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JEWISH AND CHRISTIAN TEXTS IN CONTEXTS AND RELATED STUDIES Executive Editor James H. Charlesworth Editorial Board of Advisors Motti Aviam, Michael Davis, Casey Elledge, Loren Johns, Amy-Jill Levine, Lee McDonald, Lidia Novakovic, Gerbern Oegema, Henry Rietz, Brent Strawn
Princeton-Prague Symposia Series on the Historical Jesus Edited by James H. Charlesworth and Petr Pokorný 1 Jesus Research: An International Perspective The First Princeton-Prague Symposium on Jesus Research Prague 2005 2 Jesus Research: New Methodologies and Perceptions The Second Princeton-Prague Symposium on Jesus Research Princeton 2007 3 Jesus Research: The Gospel of John in Historical Inquiry The Third Princeton-Prague Symposium on Jesus Research Princeton 2016
Jesus Research The Gospel of John in Historical Inquiry Edited by James H. Charlesworth with Jolyon G. R. Pruszinski
T&T CLARK Bloomsbury Publishing Plc 50 Bedford Square, London, WC1B 3DP, UK 1385 Broadway, New York, NY 10018, USA BLOOMSBURY, T&T CLARK and the T&T Clark logo are trademarks of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc First published in Great Britain 2019 Paperback edition published 2020 Copyright © James H. Charlesworth and contributors, 2019 James H. Charlesworth has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as Editor of this work. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publishers. Bloomsbury Publishing Plc does not have any control over, or responsibility for, any third-party websites referred to or in this book. All internet addresses given in this book were correct at the time of going to press. The author and publisher regret any inconvenience caused if addresses have changed or sites have ceased to exist, but can accept no responsibility for any such changes. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. A catalogue record for this book is available from the Library of Congress. ISBN: HB: 978-0-5676-8134-8 PB: 978-0-5676-9611-3 ePDF: 978-0-5676-8135-5 ePUB: 978-0-5676-8138-6 Typeset by Deanta Global Publishing Services, Chennai, India
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Contents List of Abbreviations Notes on Contributors Preface Introducing the Focus of the Third Princeton-Prague Symposium: John in Jesus Research James H. Charlesworth
vii xvi xvii
1
Part One John and the Synoptics in Jesus Research
1 2
Why the Gospel of John is Fundamental to Jesus Research Paul N. Anderson Reflections on Matthew, John, and Jesus Dale C. Allison Jr.
7 47
Part Two Literary and Rhetorical Approaches for Jesus Research in John
3 4
Some Methodological Considerations Regarding John, Jesus, and History Harold W. Attridge How and in What Ways Does John’s Rhetoric Reflect Jesus’ Rhetoric? George L. Parsenios
71 85
Part Three Johannine Relationships to Early Traditions, Josephus, and Archaeological Data
5 6 7 8
The First Edition of John’s Gospel in Light of Archaeology and Contemporary Literature Urban C. von Wahlde John 2:20, “Forty-Six Years”: Revisiting J. A. T. Robinson’s Chronology of Jesus’ Ministry R. Alan Culpepper Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel’s Depiction of the Baptist Craig S. Keener Can Archaeology Help Us See Jesus’ Shadows in the Gospel of John? James H. Charlesworth
99 142 155 168
vi
Contents
Part Four Johannine Tendenzen, Theology, and History
9 History in John’s Portrayal of Jesus Jan Roskovec 10 Jesus and the Historical Implications of John’s Temple Cleansing Michael A. Daise
11 Jesus of Nazareth in the Gospel of John Petr Pokorný
189 203 223
Part Five Summaries of Symposium Discussions
12 Allison, Anderson, Culpepper, and Attridge: Discussion of Papers I Nathan C. Johnson and Maurice J. P. O’Connor
237
13 Charlesworth and Parsenios: Discussion of Papers II Brandon L. Allen 14 Pokorný, von Wahlde, and Keener: Discussion of Papers III
241
James M. Neumann 15 Roskovec, Daise, and a Developing Consensus: Discussion of Papers IV Jolyon G. R. Pruszinski
247 251
Part Six Appendices Notes Jesus Research and the Gospel of John: Selected Bibliography Jolyon G. R. Pruszinski Modern Author Index Scripture Index Ancient Sources
263 323 352 357 369
List of Abbreviations General ch(s).
chapter(s)
ET
English translation
fn.
footnote
L
Luke’s special material
LXX
Septuagint
M
Matthew’s special material
n.
note
Q
Quelle (German for source)
Modern publications AASF
Annales Academiae scientiarum fennicae
AB
Anchor Bible
ABD
Anchor Bible Dictionary. Ed. D. N. Freedman. 6 vols. New York: Doubleday, 1992
ABRL
Anchor (Yale) Bible Reference Library
ADPV
Abhandlungen des Deutschen Palästina-Vereins
AGJU
Arbeitzen zur Geschichte des Spätjudentums und Urchristentums
AJEC
Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity
ALUOS
Annual of Leeds University Oriental Society
ASOR
American Schools of Oriental Research
ATANT
Abhandlungen zur Theologie des Alten und Neuen Testaments
ATR
Anglican Theological Review
BA
Biblical Archaeologist
BAR
Biblical Archaeology Review
BBR
Bulletin for Biblical Research
BDAG
W. Bauer, F. W. Danker, W. F. Arndt, and F. W. Gingrich, Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature. 3rd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000.
viii
List of Abbreviations
BECNT
Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament
BETL
Bibliotheca Ephemeridum Theologicarum Lovaniensium
BibInt
Biblical Interpretation
BInS
Biblical Interpretation Series
BJS
Brown Judaic Studies
BN
Biblische Notizen
BNTC
Black’s New Testament Commentaries
BRev
Bible Review
BT
The Bible Translator
BZNW
Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft
CBA
Catholic Biblical Association
CBET
Contributions to Biblical Exegesis & Theology
CBQ
Catholic Biblical Quarterly
DIWA
Diwa: Studies in Philosophy and Theology
DJD
Discoveries in the Judaean Desert
DSD
Dead Sea Discoveries
ECC
Eerdmans Critical Commentary
ECL
Early Christianity and Its Literature
ETL
Ephemerides Theologicae Lovanienses
EvQ
Evangelical Quarterly
EvT
Evangelische Theologie
ExpTim
Expository Times
FRLANT
Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments
HBS
Herders biblische Studien
HBT
Horizons in Biblical Theology
HNT
Handbuch zum Neuen Testament
HTCNT
Herders Theological Commentary on the New Testament
HThKNT
Herders Theologischer Kommentar zum Neuen Testament
ICC
International Critical Commentary
JBL
Journal of Biblical Literature
JETS
Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society
JSHJ
Journal for the Study of the Historical Jesus
JSNT
Journal for the Study of the New Testament
JSNTSup
Journal for the Study of the New Testament: Supplement Series
JTS
Journal of Theological Studies
List of Abbreviations KEK
Kritisch-exegetischer Kommentar über das Neue Testament (Meyer-Kommentar)
LCL
Loeb Classical Library
LEC
Library of Early Christianity
LNTS
Library of New Testament Studies (formerly JSNTSup)
LS
Louvain Studies
NA28
Novum Testamentum Graece, Nestle-Aland, 28th ed.
NCB
New Century Bible Commentary
NCBC
New Cambridge Bible Commentary
NHC
Nag Hammadi Codices
NIB
The New Interpreter’s Bible. Edited by Leander E. Keck. 12 vols. Nashville: Abingdon, 1994-2004.
NICNT
New Interpreters Commentary on the New Testament
NIV
New International Version
NJB
New Jerusalem Bible
NovT
Novum Testamentum
NovTSup
Supplements to Novum Testamentum
NRSV
New Revised Standard Version
1
ix
NPNF
Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Series 1
NTAbh
Neutestamentliche Abhandlungen
NTD
Das Neue Testament Deutsch
NTL
New Testament Library
NTOA
Novum Testamentum et Orbis Antiquus
NTS
New Testament Studies
NTTS
New Testament Tools and Studies
ÖTK
Ökumenischer Taschenbuchkommentar zum Neuen Testament
OTP
The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. Edited by James H. Charlesworth. 2 vols. New York: Doubleday, 1983-1985.
PEQ
Palestine Exploration Quarterly
PNTC
Pelican New Testament Commentaries
POC
Proche-Orient Chrétien
QRT
Quaker Religious Thought
RB
Revue biblique
RBS
Resources for Biblical Study
RevQ
Revue de Qumrân
RNT
Regensburger Neues Testament
SANT
Studien zum Alten und Neuen Testament
x
List of Abbreviations
SBFLA
Studii biblici Franciscani Liber Annus
SBL
Society of Biblical Literature
SBLDS
Society of Biblical Literature Dissertation Series
SBLECL
Society of Biblical Literature Early Christianity and Its Literature
SBLRBS
Society of Biblical Literature Resources for Biblical Study
SBLSP
Society of Biblical Literature Seminar Papers
SBLSymS
Society of Biblical Literature Symposium Series
SBT
Studies in Biblical Theology
SIJD
Schriften des Institutum Judaicum Delitzschianum
SNTS
Society for New Testament Studies
SNTSMS
Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series
STAC
Studien und Texte zu Antike und Christentum
STDJ
Studies on the Texts of the Desert of Judah
SUNT
Studien zur Umwelt des Neuen Testaments
SymS
Symposium Series
TANZ
Texte und Arbeiten zum neutestamentlichen Zeitalter
TDNT
Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. Edited by Gerhard Kittel and Gerhard Friedrich. Translated by Geoffrey W. Bromiley. 10 vols. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1964-1976
THKNT
Theologischer Handkommentar zum Neuen Testament
TLG
Thesaurus Linguae Graecae: Canon of Greek Authors and Works. Edited by Luci Berkowitz and Karl A. Squitier. 3rd ed. New York: Oxford University Press, 1990.
TLZ
Theologische Literaturzeitung
TNTC
Tyndale New Testament Commentaries
TynBul
Tyndale Bulletin
UNT
Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament
WBC
Word Biblical Commentary
WMANT
Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und Neuen Testament
WUNT
Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament
ZBK
Zürcher Bibelkommentare
ZNW
Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und die Kunde der älteren Kirche
ZTK
Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche
List of Abbreviations
Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Gen
Genesis
Exod
Exodus
Lev
Leviticus
Num
Numbers
Deut
Deuteronomy
Josh
Joshua
Judg
Judges
Ruth
Ruth
1-2 Sam
1-2 Samuel
1-2 Kgs
1-2 Kings
1-2 Chr
1-2 Chronicles
Ezra
Ezra
Neh
Nehemiah
Esth
Esther
Job
Job
Ps
Psalms
Prov
Proverbs
Eccl
Ecclesiastes
Song
Song of Songs
Isa
Isaiah
Jer
Jeremiah
Lam
Lamentations
Ezek
Ezekiel
Dan
Daniel
Hos
Hosea
Joel
Joel
Amos
Amos
Obad
Obadiah
Jonah
Jonah
Mic
Micah
Nah
Nahum
Hab
Habakkuk
Zeph
Zephaniah
Hag
Haggai
xi
xii
List of Abbreviations
Zech
Zechariah
Mal
Malachi
New Testament Matt
Matthew
Mark
Mark
Luke
Luke
John
John
Acts
Acts
Rom
Romans
1-2 Cor
1-2 Corinthians
Gal
Galatians
Eph
Ephesians
Phil
Philippians
Col
Colossians
1-2 Thess
1-2 Thessalonians
1-2 Tim
1-2 Timothy
Titus
Titus
Phlm
Philemon
Heb
Hebrews
Jas
James
1-2 Pet
1-2 Peter
1-2-3 John
1-2-3 John
Jude
Jude
Rev
Revelation
Old Testament Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha 1-2-3 En
1-2-3 Enoch
1-2-3-4 Macc
1-2-3-4 Maccabees
Jub
Jubilees
PssSol
Psalms of Solomon
TJos
Testament of Joseph
TLevi
Testament of Levi
List of Abbreviations
xiii
Dead Sea Scrolls 1QS
(1Q28)
Serek Hayaḥad or Rule of the Community
4QMMT
(4Q394-399)
Miqṣat Ma‘aśe ha-Torah or Some Works of the Torah
Rabbinic Texts ’Abot R. Nat.
Abot de Rabbi Nathan
b.
Babylonian Talmud
B. Bat.
Baba Batra
Eccl. Rab.
Ecclesiastes Rabbah
‘Erub.
‘Erubin
Gen. Rab.
Genesis Rabbah
Lev. Rab.
Leviticus Rabbah
m.
Mishnah
Num. Rab.
Numbers Rabbah
Sanh.
Sanhedrin
Šeqal.
Šeqalim
Sipre Dev.
Sipre Devarim (on Deuteronomy)
t. Yad.
Tosefta Yadayim
Tg. Ps.-J.
Targum Pseudo-Jonathan
Apostolic Fathers 1 Clem.
1 Clement
Haer.
Irenaeus, Adversus haereses
Exc.
Clement of Alexandria, Excerpta ex Theodoto
Cels.
Origen, Contra Celsum
Comm. Matt.
Origen, Commentarium in evangelium Matthaei
Dem. ev.
Eusebius, Demonstratio evangelica
Hist. eccl.
Eusebius, Historia ecclesiastica
Vit. Mos.
Gregory of Nyssa, De Vita Moysis
Steph. 2
Gregory of Nyssa, Encomium on Saint Stephen
Glaph. Gen.-Deut.
Cyril of Alexandria, Glaphyra in Pentateuchum
1 Apol.
Justin, Apologia i
xiv
List of Abbreviations
Nag Hammadi Codices Ap. John
Apocryphon of John
Gos. Eg.
Gospel of the Egyptians
New Testament Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha Acts Pil.
Acts of Pilate
Gos. Thom.
Gospel of Thomas
LivPro
Lives of the Prophets
Papyri and Ostraca P.Egerton
Egerton papyrus
P.Herc.
Herculaneum papyri
Greek and Latin Works Agr.
Tacitus, Agricola
Ann.
Tacitus, Annales
Ant.
Josephus, Jewish Antiquities
Ben.
Seneca, De Beneficiis
Brut.
Cicero, Brutus
Dial.
Seneca, Dialogi; or Tacitus, Dialogus de oratoribus
Exc.
Clement of Alexandria, Excerpta ex Theodoto
Haer.
Irenaeus, Adversus haereses
Her.
Philo, Quis rerum divinarum heres sit
Hom. Jo.
John Chrysostom, Homiliae in Joannem
J.W.
Josephus, Jewish War
Life
Josephus, The Life
Lives
Eunapius, Lives of the Philosophers and Sophists
Lucil.
Seneca, Ad Lucilium
Mem.
Xenophon, Memorabilia
Migr.
Philo, De migratione Abrahami
Nat.
Pliny, Naturalis historia
List of Abbreviations Or.
Orations (Dio Chrysostom, Lysias, etc.)
Progymn.
Theon, Progymnasmata
Tract. Ev. Jo.
Augustine, In Evangelium Johannis tractatus
Vit. Isid. patr.
Philotheos Kokkinos, Vita Isidori Patriarchae
xv
Notes on Contributors Dale C. Allison Jr.
Princeton Theological Seminary
Paul N. Anderson
George Fox University
Harold W. Attridge
Yale University
James H. Charlesworth
Princeton Theological Seminary
R. Alan Culpepper
Mercer University and University of the Free State, Bloemfontein
Michael A. Daise
College of William and Mary
Craig S. Keener
Asbury Theological Seminary
George L. Parsenios
Princeton Theological Seminary
Petr Pokorný
Univerzita Karlova v Praze
Jolyon G. R. Pruszinski
Princeton Theological Seminary
Jan Roskovec
Univerzita Karlova v Praze
Urban C. von Wahlde
Loyola University of Chicago
Summaries of discussions Brandon L. Allen
Princeton Theological Seminary
Nathan C. Johnson
Princeton Theological Seminary
James M. Neumann
Princeton Theological Seminary
Maurice J. P. O’Connor
Princeton Theological Seminary
Preface Scholars living in Prague and Princeton, joined by other experts on the Gospel of John, convened in Princeton in the spring of 2016. The symposium focused on one question: “Should John be included in the study of the historical Jesus (Jesus Research)?” The following chapters are the edited proceedings of that symposium. I am grateful to Petr Pokorný for collegiality that dates from 1966 when we first met during the annual meeting of Studiorum Novi Testamenti Societas and for collaboration in launching and organizing the Princeton-Prague Symposia. More recently his colleague in Prague, Jan Roskovec, has labored to make these sessions enjoyable and profitable. Should John be included in the study of the historical Jesus (Jesus Research)? Almost all experts who seek to understand the historical Jesus focus only on the Synoptics (Mark, Matthew, Luke). The members of the symposium came to a consensus: The Gospel of John preserves traditions that are independent of the Synoptics and often are as reliable as any known traditions for understanding the historical Jesus. John should be used in Jesus Research. Another consensus that evolved during the sessions was surprising. While John does preserve independent traditions that are intermittently reliable and are fundamental in comprehending the historical Jesus from Nazareth, the version of John known to us, and which reached its present form near the end of the first century CE, shows signs of knowing one or more of the Synoptics. The consensus arose in many discussions but was not the focus of this symposium. For insights, see the Part 5: Summaries of Symposium Discussions and especially the comments by Daise, Attridge, Anderson, Pokorný , Charlesworth, and Culpepper. For this volume, my assistants and I have basically followed the SBL Handbook of Style (second edition) guidelines, with a few notable exceptions. Abbreviations for the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha and Apocrypha conform to the standards employed in previous Jesus Research volumes and the OTP. Abbreviations for Qumran-related documents conform to those employed in the Princeton Dead Sea Scrolls Project critical editions. Rabbinic texts are italicized. Further, proper names ending in the letter “s” receive only an apostrophe when appearing in the possessive. Members of the Princeton Theological Seminary Biblical Department chaired the sessions, so special appreciations are due to Professors George Parsenios, Heath Dewrell, Lisa Bowens, and Clifton Black. All members of the symposium are grateful to Princeton Theological Seminary, the Centre for Biblical Studies in Prague, Czech Republic, and the Foundation on Judaism and Christian Origins for funding these symposia. I am grateful to Linda Wall, Lamar Barden, Lea Berkuz, and Dr. John Hoffmann for special advice and support. I am indebted to Aron M. Tillema, Heidi M. Biermann, and Grace M. Rakow for helping me edit these chapters. My PhD student,
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Preface
Jolyon G. R. Pruszinski, served me well during the year that we polished these papers for publication. Dr. Craig Barnes, president of Princeton Theological Seminary, opened the symposium; we are all appreciative of his support and help. James H. Charlesworth Princeton Easter 2017
Introducing the Focus of the Third Princeton-Prague Symposium: John in Jesus Research James H. Charlesworth
Why scholars Jettison John in Jesus Research Almost all specialists devoted to Jesus Research ignore the Gospel of John and focus only on the Synoptics: Matthew, Mark, and Luke. The justification for this focus comes from the following assumptions. First, John is the last of the four Gospels and thus cannot preserve authentic traditions from Jesus. Second, John is dependent on one or more of the Synoptics; thus, his work is derivative. Third, John is highly developed theologically and belongs to about 100 CE; thus, the Gospel is far too late in comparison to Mark to preserve reliable historical data. Fourth, John is not interested in history; he has written a spiritual masterpiece that recasts all early traditions. Fifth, being blinded by the complexities that characterize the Gospel of John and the daunting task of collating all four Gospels might be too cumbersome for some scholars and cause anachronistic conflations. Sixth, the work of scholars devoted to the study of the historical Jesus has been almost solely devoted to the Synoptics. Luminaries like E. P. Sanders, N. T. Wright, and J. D. G. Dunn exclude John from vision. All the above six reasons are taken as valid for ignoring John in Jesus Research. Each is sufficient in itself to keep John out of historical work, many experts conclude, in order that reconstructions may not be based on interpretations but facts. The present symposium explores whether the Gospel of John should be included in Jesus Research.
Rethinking these reasons to ignore John In the last decade, scholars have found each of these assumptions misleading and misinformed. First, John is the last of the four Gospels in its present form, but there were at least three previous editions. The first edition most likely antedates 70 CE and there are sources, like the Signs Source, that take us back even earlier, as U. C. von Wahlde reminds us. Second, one of the new insights shared by those in the seminar is that while it is unlikely that John depends on one or more of the Synoptics, he does seem to know at least one of the Synoptics or the traditions that shaped them. Also, it is widely
2
Jesus Research
acknowledged that John, even if he were dependent on Mark, had access to independent traditions that have as good a case to be historically reliable as any pericope in the Synoptics. As Michael A. Daise and R. Alan Culpepper will show, John’s chronology seems to be mirrored in some passages in Mark. Third, John may be highly theologically developed, yet the ἐγὼ εἰμὶ pronouncements are not John’s invention. The phrase is found, for example, in the ending of Mark. Neither is John’s rhetoric entirely unique. It has clear Greek and Jewish precedents, as George Parsenios demonstrates. Nor must we forget what was learned by Redaktionsgeschichte: Marxsen proved Mark was a developed theological work. Bornkamm showed how theologically sophisticated Matthew is. Conzelmann helped us grasp the theological profundities of Luke-Acts. Each Evangelist is not only an editor he is a theologically sophisticated bearer and shaper of historical traditions. Thus, John no longer sticks out as a Gospel devoid of historical nuggets because it is shaped by theological Tendenzen. All our sources, including 1 Macc and Josephus, are theologically shaped so that one could conclude that Judaism has no historical compositions to compare with Herodotus, Thucydides, or Polybius. And the latter historiographer often appealed to “mythical fate.” As Petr Pokorný indicates, Jesus’ proclamation of the Kingdom of God can be heard in echoes in John. And Jan Roskovec demonstrates how John’s portrayal of Jesus is not fancifully created Christology. Fourth, if John is not interested in history, why did he write a “Gospel” about Jesus? Why did he show so much interest in John the Baptizer? History is at least evident in the conflict between Jesus’ disciples and the sect of John the Baptizer, as B. W. Baldensperger announced long ago in 1989 in his Der Prolog des vierten Evangeliums. Craig S. Keener suggests how in John the presentation of John the Baptizer has historical elements. Hence, John’s portrait of Jesus fits pre-70 CE Judaism. While John obviously did not compose a history of Jesus or a biography of Jesus, he did preserve historically reliable data. Archaeological studies and discoveries prove how amazingly accurate is John’s narrative, as I will attempt to show. Fifth, it is extremely difficult to collate the Synoptic Gospels, like Mark, Matthew, and Luke, with a more independent Gospel, like John. Should we then always take the well-trodden way and focus on only the first three, overlooking that Matthew and Luke copy Mark and do not transmit independent witnesses? Sixth, excluding John because most recent scholars have tended to do so may be an example of the blind leading the blind; after all, Friedrich Schleiermacher in 1832 concluded that John is our best source for reconstructing the historical Jesus. Maybe the tendency to follow the crowd today is an example of being myopically focused on the present while we are striving to imagine the past. As George L. Parsenios indicates, behind John’s advanced rhetoric we may catch the sound of Jesus’ rhetoric.
Why John must be used in Jesus Research The most recent Jesus Research intersects with Johannine research, and it is imperative to open the windows so the light of new insights might fill the halls of the “School of John,” to use the term provided by Alan Culpepper. As so many Johannine experts
Introducing the Focus of the Third Princeton-Prague Symposium
3
have demonstrated, John contains history. As Paul N. Anderson illustrates in this symposium, the Gospel of John is fundamental in Jesus Research. As Dale C. Allison shows, despite their highly developed rhetoric, Matthew and John must not be ignored in the study of the historical Jesus. Harry W. Attridge indicates how we might find historical knowledge in John. Finally, the leading axiom in historiography is that all pertinent sources must be used. As Polybius pointed out: “For since many events occur at the same time in different places, and one man cannot be in several places at one time, nor is it possible for a single man to have seen with his own eyes every place in the world and all the peculiar features of different places, the only thing left for an historian is to inquire from as many people as possible, to believe those worthy of belief and to be an adequate critic of the reports that reach him” (Historia 12:4.4–5 [Patton, LCL]). Thus, we come here from different areas of our globe to see how and in ways it may be possible to obtain knowledge about the historical Jesus from the Fourth Evangelist. We “believe” John “worthy of belief,” not only theologically but, in some passages, also historically. We consider it possible that behind the highly developed rhetoric may be an eyewitness who “has seen with his own eyes” places and events definitive for the man from Nazareth.
Fascination with the Gospel of John in earlier decades The Fourth Evangelist knew that the past must be imagined to be present or it is lost. Many decades ago, I would sit with my legs crossed, hands on them, before a large radio set in an immense wooden cabinet. For years, every Monday to Friday, at 5:00 p.m., I heard the same words pouring out of the speaker: “Out of the past comes the thundering hoof beats of the great horse Silver.” I was mesmerized. Silver must be at least as tall as a one-story building. The Lone Ranger must be a spectacular hero. He controlled the monstrous beast and brought justice to the Wild West. Then, in third grade, my mother bought the family tickets to see the Lone Ranger. I would see him live in Miami’s Orange Bowl. The walk took about forty-five minutes northward from the Methodist parsonage. I remember skipping along. When I saw that ordinary horse and that imposter who was a simple human, I was disappointed. That was not the “great horse Silver.” That was not the mystical Lone Ranger. I could not criticize my imagination so I ridiculed the world. It smashed my expectations with pseudo-creatures and imposters. I plodded homeward drearily that day. A year earlier, at Jacksonville Beach, my second-grade teacher had begun each day asking us to memorize good English. We recited after her: “In the beginning was the Word. The Word was with God. And the Word was God.” I was too young to ponder protological Christology, yet I did wonder about something challenging called “the Word.” Something seemed strange about the opening of John. The Word was in the Beginning. What did these words mean?
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Jesus Research
The shock of preadolescent thought shook me, giving me shivers. What was John telling me? My fascination with John opened my eyes to ceaseless wonders. Then, I looked to my left and peered into the wide eyes of the massive rattler that was stuffed in a bottle on the shelf in the classroom. Such times never leave me. Newton felt, ultimately, that he had been only a little boy running in and out of the waves, picking up sea shells. I too can recall classmates in Jacksonville Beach running with greyhounds darting among foamed capped waves. Long ago in the faint past, imagination and wonder, and a peering serpent, helped shape my memories of beginnings. Looking ahead into the less dim future, I hope to finish my study of John: The Genius in the New Testament. The little boy is gone. We never see childhood passing; it does not dissipate like smoke. It simply is no longer there. The large brown radio is also no more. Those events of long ago, however, are not so different from what we now face as mesmerized adults. Supermassive black holes are no longer a theory; they seem to be at the core of all galaxies, generating them. While there is no colossal white Silver, we may ponder something more gigantic: apparently a black hole close to us could be devouring again, leading us to ponder “in the beginning,” and the conceivability of the asyndetic conundrum “the Word Flesh became.” In summation, perhaps theology is the mature human’s capacity to listen and to wonder. Princeton Passover, Easter 2016
Part One
John and the Synoptics in Jesus Research
1
Why the Gospel of John is Fundamental to Jesus Research Paul N. Anderson
The constellation of the Johannine riddles—theological, historical, literary—and their implications for understanding the Jesus of history as well as the Christ of faith, and thus the historical and religious basis of Western civilization, comprises arguably the most difficult set of biblical critical issues and discussions in the modern era. Just as John’s theological tensions precipitated and contributed to the most intensive and extensive of theological discussions in the patristic era (circa 90–451 CE),1 so John’s literary and historical tensions have contributed to the most intensive and extensive literary and historical biblical discussions in the modern era. Understandably, the issues are complex. The discussions are multidisciplinary; the implications are momentous. That is why this study is needed and why it is needed now.2
Brief overviews of scholarship Over the last century and a half, two platforms have ruled the day among critical scholars engaged in Gospel studies and Jesus Research: the dehistoricization of John and the de-Johannification of Jesus. These terms might overstate the issues a bit, in that many first-rate scholars have taken exception to particular issues along the way, and even those holding such views might acknowledge any number of exceptions. Overall though, as the work of the Jesus Seminar asserted, these two platforms are touted as foundational for modern critical scholarship in researching the Jesus of history rather than the Christ of faith. The problem, however, is that each of the planks upon which such platforms are constructed is flawed. Good points abound in critiquing a traditional view here and there, but simply to question a thesis is not to have proven its antithesis; that takes more work. A brief overview of scholarship within Jesus Research and Johannine studies is thus in order as an introduction to the subject at hand.3
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The first three quests for Jesus4 Formative within the emergence of these critical platforms is the historic debate between Friedrich Schleiermacher and David F. Strauss in the nineteenth century quest for Jesus. In general terms, Schleiermacher, in his Halle lectures on Jesus and his later book on the subject,5 argued that between John and the Synoptics, John’s presentation of Jesus is the most reliable because it shows a deeply penetrating understanding of Jesus and his mission—the sort of knowledge that represents first-hand acquaintance with the subject of the Gospels: Jesus of Nazareth. Conversely, the Synoptic Gospels (he takes Matthew to be the first—the standing view during his time) present a fragmentary picture of Jesus, reflecting the gathering of bits of traditional material in second-hand, editorial ways. Challenging this approach, Strauss6 argued in his first book that while there appears to be historical material in the Gospels, much of it betrays the influence of contemporary religions. Therefore, miraculous and wondrous elements in the Gospels root not in the facts of history but in the incorporation of wondrous elements characteristic of mythic contemporary religions and folkloric embellishments. In his second book, Strauss drove two wedges in his focused attack against Schleiermacher. First, he forced a divide between theology and history; if a narrative shows theological interest and character, it cannot be regarded as historical. Second, because John is different from the Synoptics and theological in its thrust, the quest for Jesus must side with the Synoptics to the exclusion of John. Thus, the Jesus of history must be divorced from the Christ of faith if one is to rescue biblical studies from their traditional encumbrances, liberating their reasoned use in the modern era. While nineteenth century critical scholarship did not share this view entirely, traditional confidence in John’s historical contribution to the quest for Jesus overall lost out to its distinctive presentation of Jesus over and against the Synoptics. Along these lines, Strauss’ paradigms largely became the foundational bases for the first three quests for Jesus over the next century and a half. The nineteenth century quest came to settle on Mark as the basis for Matthew and Luke, although with Wrede’s7 questioning of Mark’s historicity, the quest was somewhat abandoned rather than looking to John as an informative alternative. This phase has been overstatedly called the “No Quest” for Jesus phase. While Bultmann and some others sidestepped the historical quest of Jesus as a factor of diminished confidence in Mark’s historicity as the first Gospel and subjective results of so-called objective quests, the next phase of gospel-critical scholarship nonetheless focused on the history of gospel traditions as a means of informing the history of Jesus and his ministry.8 This led to source-critical investigations of gospel traditions, aided by form and redaction-critical analyses and history-of-religions comparisons. Assuming (correctly, most scholars believe) that Matthew and Luke made use of Mark, the inference of an unknown Q source was advanced as an attempt to explain their similarities beyond their Markan connections. Some Q theorists also sought to identify such a source as the early form of Matthew in Hebraic language, as referenced by Papias in Eusebius (Hist. eccl. 3.39), although that view has not carried the day critically. With these advances in Synoptic studies, the quest for sources underlying the Johannine narrative got well underway within the twentieth century and beyond, bolstered by these other critical methodological advances.
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Launching a new stage in Jesus Research, the “New Quest” for Jesus, so named by James Robinson,9 began in 1951 following Käsemann’s calling for a sustained study of Jesus as a first century Jew.10 Despite the Gospels’ presentations of Jesus of Nazareth in religious terms, attempts were made to distinguish the historical figure of Jesus from emerging religious trappings, both Jewish and “Christian.” As a minimalist approach, seeking to make use of only that which is fairly certain, scholars of the second half of the twentieth century sought to exclude anything that seems overtly “Christian” or characteristically Jewish from presentations of Jesus in the Gospels, privileging also material that is multiply attested and cohering with majority-view impressions of his ministry. Of course, these four criteria (dissimilarity, embarrassment, multiple attestation, coherence) function to exclude anything distinctive in Matthew or Luke, and especially in John, bolstered by the fact of John’s highly interpretive presentation of Jesus. Thus, siding with Reimarus two-and-a-half centuries earlier, since John’s narrative begins with a Christological hymn and includes distinctive I-am sayings of Jesus, these features justify the exclusion of John from Jesus studies. Käsemann’s own approach to the Gospel of John was to virtually ignore all of its mundane and incarnational features, arguing that its presentation of Jesus was that of God striding over the earth,11 whose feet rarely touched the ground. Thus, John’s dehistoricization made it easier to focus on the Synoptics primarily, simplifying the task in albeit distortive ways. With the advent of social-scientific, anthropological, politico-religious, and cognitive-critical analyses of Judaism in its first century Mediterranean contexts, what N. T. Wright12 described as a “Third Quest” for Jesus emerged in the 1970s. In looking at the Jewishness of Jesus and seeing him as a transformer of Judaism into its best self, viewing Jesus as challenging purity laws and religious codes in the name of an authentic Jewish vision of faith and practice produced new insights into the Jewishness of Jesus and the rest of the New Testament writers, including Paul. As a more generous approach to ascertaining historical knowledge of Jesus and his ministry, this new set of investigations into the life of Jesus took seriously his work alongside other first century messianic prophets and Jewish leaders, seeking to understand psychological and sociological aspects of Jesus’ ministry more fully. Lest their work be considered less than critically compelling, however, Third Questers have, overall, been content to leave John out of their studies so as to not jeopardize the reception of their portraitures of Jesus of Nazareth. This is understandable, but it also bespeaks the timidity and inadequacy of modern Jesus scholarship overall. As a means of pushing back against these more exploratory approaches to Jesus Research, though, a reassertion of New-Quest skepticism took form in what was called “the Renewed Quest” for Jesus by Robert Funk and John Dominic Crossan, reasserting a parsimonious approach. From the mid-1980s on, Robert Funk and the Jesus Seminar worked to consolidate the findings of the New Quest for future generations, lest the previous generation’s skeptical stances on a variety of issues be lost.13 Presenting to the general public what critical scholars believed about the Jesus of history—over and against traditional, churchly views—the Seminar played to the media, claiming the mantle of New Testament scholarly opinion for itself. Over its first decade of operation, papers were presented on each of the sayings and deeds of Jesus in the New
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Testament, which were then voted on by the membership. Marbles denoting black (no way, no how), grey (possibly, but probably not), pink (could have said or done that), and red (probably said or did that) were cast after each element, and the votes were tabulated mathematically. The results were published in the volumes of the Jesus Seminar, affirming only 18 percent of the material in the Gospels goes back to the Jesus of history (red or pink). Marcus Borg14 put it more positively: “at least this much” goes back to Jesus, by means of these evaluative criteria. Within that venue, the primitiveness of the Q tradition was linked to the Gospel of Thomas, leading scholars to judge that the sayings of Jesus in the second century Gnostic gospel were far superior in terms of historicity over and against the presentation of Jesus in Mark or any of the other canonical Gospels. Simultaneously within that project, the Gospel of John suffered the most programmatic exclusion from historicity and Jesus studies for over a century. As a result, even the semblance of a Johannine feature within one of the Synoptic Gospels was deemed to make it unreliable historically; thus, Johannine verisimilitude came to be seen as a basis for rejection in terms of Jesus-research historicity. However, if all worthy sources for Jesus Research are being utilized, why has the one canonical gospel tradition claiming firsthand contact with Jesus been programmatically excluded from the venue? This anti-Johannine thrust of modern Jesus scholarship exposes several fallacies, calling for incisive skepticism and critical correction. First, because the Synoptics are theological as well as John, and because John shows evidence of historical memory as well as theological development, a more nuanced approach deserves consideration. Second, given that Matthew and Luke used Mark, the difference is not necessarily three against one; rather, differences often reflect distinctive presentations of Jesus and his ministry between Mark and John—two highly individuated perspectives. Third, if every source is open for historical-Jesus consideration, however, including the Gospels of Thomas, Philip, and Truth, what is to be made of the one canonical Gospel claiming first-hand knowledge of Jesus and his ministry—what are the critical bases for rejecting that claim altogether? Fourth, as criteria for determining gospel historicity—by function and design—served to exclude Johannine contents and perspectives from the historical quest for Jesus, do the results point to John’s ahistoricity, or do they simply reflect the results of applying biased, anti-Johannine criteria? A fifth fallacy applies positivism to verification but not to falsification; “not necessarily” can never imply “necessarily not.” To simply question a traditional view is not to demonstrate its opposite; that requires evidence, which on nearly all default proposals regarding the origin and character of the Johannine tradition, remains lacking. By means of these and other operations, John’s historicity has been challenged programmatically, and yet, they are individually and collectively fallacious in either their design or their operation. This also explains why overly skeptical approaches to Jesus Research have failed to convince some audiences; after all, simply to challenge a view is not to disconfirm it compellingly.15 Since the turn of the new millennium, however, the unsustainability of excluding the Gospel of John from Jesus Research, while including everything else, evoked a backlash. Given that most historical-Jesus scholars in the twentieth century could not also claim to be Johannine scholars, leading Johannine scholars began to weigh in on the discussions, calling for a new quest for Jesus—one that included the Gospel of John
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rather than ignoring it. In 2001 the John, Jesus, and History Project got underway at the national SBL meetings, looking at these three seemingly incompatible subjects in conjunction with each other and testing the durability of modern platforms and their constitutive planks. I might call this the beginnings of a Fourth Quest for Jesus,16 in that new criteria for determining historicity are required if the Johannine tradition is to be included in the mix. Then again, while this cursory overview of historical-Jesus Research accounts for some of the reasons the Gospel of John has been sidestepped in the historical quest of Jesus, John’s theological, historical, and literary riddles create their own multitudinous perplexities for Johannine scholars, as well. Therefore, a brief overview of Johannine critical scholarship is also in order, as Johannine scholars themselves are not in one accord as to John’s composition, authorship, development, or historical character.
Issues and developments in Johannine scholarship Overlapping historical-Jesus studies, but somewhat independent of them, Johannine studies have forged their own trajectories over the last century or more. A first approach, really a “new look” at the traditional view of John’s origin and character, that John’s Gospel represents an independent eyewitness account of Jesus’ ministry and thus has its own historical account to share, has developed in a variety of ways. Building on Lightfoot’s earlier defense of the traditional view, B. F. Westcott17 argued a concentric set of inferences, beginning with an independent memory of Jesus, written by a Jew, of Palestine, one of the Twelve—and even one of the three closest disciples to Jesus, and finally John the son of Zebedee. More conservative approaches have tended to build in this direction, as shown in the critical-yet-traditional commentaries of Morris, Carson, Michaels, Köstenberger, and others. However, such riddles as the supposed early death of John the son of Zebedee, the apparent finalizing of the Gospel by an editor who added material, John’s highly theological and distinctively Johannine material, John’s omission of important Synoptic content, and John’s differences with the Synoptics called for critical alternatives to the traditional view. Interestingly, one of the main reasons for doubting the traditional view is the purported early death of John the son of Zebedee. This concern, which emerged in the late nineteenth century, is based on the claim that Philip Sidetes (fifth century) and George Hamartolos (ninth century) cited an unknown testimony of Papias, that John had died early and thus could not have written any of the works bearing his name. Upon this view, alternative theories of John’s composition were launched, but a closer look debunks that claim. What Philip and George say is that James and John suffered martyrdom, building on Mark 10:3839, where Jesus asserts that they will drink his cup and be baptized with his baptism. Upon reading the fuller writings of Philip and George, however, neither claims that James and John died at the same time or that John died early. James did, martyred in 44 CE, but both of these authors locate John’s witness in Ephesus, coinciding with the reign of Domitian (81–96 CE). Put pointedly, no one believed that John died early until the modern era; it is a modern myth, and a false one, at that.18 A second twentieth century approach to the Johannine riddles was forged by Rudolf Bultmann in his 1941 commentary on John, whose influence continues to be of
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considerable significance, even decades later. While Bultmann believed very little could be known with certainty regarding the Jesus of history, his analysis of the history of the Synoptic traditions and his magisterial commentary on John stand out as the zenith of modern diachronic literary-critical and historical-critical paradigms. By combining form-critical analysis, history-of-religions awareness, stylistic-contextual analysis, and theological Tendenz-criticism, Bultmann claims to have reconstructed hypothetical sources underlying the canonical Gospels in ways that identify literary strands and layers within each tradition. Especially his The Gospel of John: A Commentary19 is unsurpassed in any field of biblical studies for its critical acumen, theological sensitivity, and existential reach. Thus, John’s historicity is present but fragmentary, calling for analyses of particular details rather than an overall historical perspective on the ministry of Jesus. While most scholars have been finally unconvinced about his identifying of three major sources underlying John, followed by the Evangelist’s organizing into a narrative whole, which was later disordered and augmented (and wrongly reordered) by an ecclesiastical redactor, Bultmann’s theological and exegetical insights along the way continue to instruct interpreters along theological, historical, and literary lines. In his, albeit, traditional approach to the Gospel of John, Ramsey Michaels declared20 that the most helpful resource in writing the successor to Leon Morris’ commentary was Bultmann’s commentary. Again, in addressing the Johannine riddles thoroughly, though often ineffectively, Bultmann’s work is unsurpassed. A third twentieth century approach to John’s historicity envisions John as dependent on the Synoptics. For those less enthralled with imagining hypothetical sources underlying John, one fact is clear. The Fourth Evangelist expands theologically upon material in his own narrative. Signs grow into (or are anticipated by) discourses; mundane details are accompanied by spiritual associations; the narrator comments upon theological implications of what is done or said—even if uttered unwittingly; biblical allusions abound. Given the Evangelist’s theologically expansive work, and if it can be assumed that he knew at least Mark and perhaps the other gospel traditions, might a good deal of John’s material simply reflect theological expansions upon Mark and the Synoptics? This is an understandable inference, and B. H. Streeter, in constructing an overall Synoptic Hypothesis, inferred that such an operation accounts for at least some of John’s similar-yet-distinctive presentation of Jesus. This trajectory was followed by C. K. Barrett,21 the Leuven School, and several others—seeing John as expanding upon Synoptic traditions theologically—and thus of little or no independent historical value. It is largely a theological expansion upon historically prevailing Synoptic traditions. A fourth critical approach argues for an independent Johannine tradition, whether or not its author was the son of Zebedee or a member of the Twelve. Whoever the author might have been, John’s independence from the Synoptics was argued by P. Gardner-Smith,22 and its account of Jesus’ ministry as a historical tradition parallel to the Synoptics was established by C. H. Dodd.23 Raymond Brown24 and Rudolf Schnackenburg25 began with inferring the Evangelist to be the apostolic son of Zebedee, although their theories of composition later evolved into accepting the possibility of John’s author being an eyewitness source who was not one of the Twelve. The view that the Evangelist was John the Elder was argued by Martin Hengel26 and Richard Bauckham,27 and other inferences of alternative eyewitness origins of John’s material
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were argued by Ben Witherington (Lazarus),28 James Charlesworth (Thomas),29 Esther De Boer (Mary Magdalene),30 Urban C. von Wahlde (an unknown eyewitness and other Johannine leaders),31 and others. Therefore, John’s presentation of Jesus represents an individuated-though-developed memory of Jesus’ ministry, to be considered historically alongside Synoptic accounts as a distinctive memory of Jesus, whoever the author might have been. In 1968 A. M. Hunter described this development as “the new look at the Fourth Gospel,” in which the historical character of John’s autonomous memory of Jesus is once more receiving critical consideration among leading New Testament scholars, albeit reflecting the Evangelist’s paraphrastic reworking of his historical tradition.32 A fifth approach has been to sidestep controversial issues of John’s originative history and to focus on its developing history and evolving situation as a two-level, history-and-theology approach to John’s origin and character.33 If the Johannine narrative was delivered in a situation where tensions with local synagogue leadership developed somewhere in the later mission to the Gentiles, might that explain John’s distinctive presentations of Jesus as the Messiah/Christ? Argued by Raymond Brown,34 J. Louis Martyn,35 and others, John’s presentation of Jesus at least bespeaks the history of the tradition’s contextual development, so that is the place to begin when seeking to account for its distinctive presentation of Jesus. Thus, theological and contextual concerns go some distance toward accounting for expansions on Jesus as fulfilling the typologies of Moses and Elijah, as well as embodying aspects of the true Israel.36 Ernst Käsemann37 argued that the main target was institutional Christianity; Peder Borgen38 argued that the target was the Docetists; Richard Cassidy39 saw the Roman presence under Domitian as formative. Then again, the presence of one contextual crisis does not eliminate the likelihood of others; thus, Wayne Meeks, Moody Smith, and Raymond Brown argued for a larger dialectical situation within Johannine Christianity, and the Johannine Epistles, and to a lesser degree the Apocalypse, facilitate reconstructions of the Johannine dialectical situation.40 Within this approach, though, originative history is all too easily eclipsed by inferences of later history, which seems to go against the thrust of the Evangelist’s work. As such, the interest in the history of the Johannine situation somewhat eclipsed the New Look at John, forged by C. H. Dodd and others a generation earlier. A sixth approach to John’s riddles involves a new-literary approach, simply focusing on the text we have—as it is—however it was written and by whom. On this score, the 1983 analysis of Alan Culpepper41 on the literary anatomy of the Fourth Gospel has been the most significant single Johannine monograph over the last three decades or more, and the plurality of Johannine critical studies since then have been new-literary analyses, ranging from plot, rhetoric, characterization, reader-response, dialogical, irony, typology, and symbolism analyses. Some studies have applied new literary critical theory to the Johannine text; others have sought to appreciate John’s literary design and artistry in the context of contemporary literature—Jewish, Greco-Roman, and Synoptic. Similarities and differences with comparative analysis are equally instructive along these lines. While new-literary studies are conducted ostensibly independently of historical interests, comparisons and contrasts with Synoptic traditions inevitably call for inferences regarding tradition development and implications for historical
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analyses of the Gospels’ subject: Jesus of Nazareth. Thus, while these studies might not be motivated by historical interests, they often have implications for understanding originative and developing histories of the narrative. After all, historical narrative is crafted rhetorically, as is fictive narrative, so a literary-critical analysis in itself cannot escape historical implications along the way.
Jesus in the Johannine perspective: A Fourth Quest for Jesus From these brief overviews of Jesus and Johannine scholarship it is clear that these two venues of research have continued within their own trajectories, but often doing so as silos without engaging each other’s research or findings. The value of noting key developments within these two fields of research, however, is to account for the lack of engagement between them, setting the stage also for a sense of the work to be done if any headway is to be made along these lines. If the recent interest in the Fourth Gospel as a resource for Jesus Research might be called a Fourth Quest within Jesus studies, perhaps a return to John’s originative history and character might be called the Renewed Quest in Johannine studies. And, the nexus of these two fields can be seen in the integration of Johannine and Jesus scholarship emerging since the beginning of the third millennium.
Johannine and Jesus scholarship today: A paradigm shift in the works The critical question is whether these moves are critically robust, given the complexity of the data being analyzed. If every resource is to be used in conducting Jesus Research, how can the Fourth Gospel be excluded from the venture? In 2010 James H. Charlesworth published an important essay, calling for and noting already a paradigm shift within Jesus Research—moving from ignoring John to including John in the historical quest of Jesus.42 In this programmatic essay, Charlesworth notes five scholars who declare that John is off-limits for Jesus studies, demonstrating the fixity of the older paradigm. He then poses ten points of critique, followed by featuring five scholars, whose works demonstrate the measured use of John within Jesus studies, showing that a paradigm shift is already underway. In the final pages of his essay, he notes the contributions of the John, Jesus, and History Project as seminal within that transition, and this is a worthy judgment indeed. Begun in 2001, this collaborative venture held at the national SBL meetings from the period 2002–16 has garnered an e-list of over 500 scholars from around the world, addressing systematically the constellation of issues related to the dehistoricization of John and the de-Johannification of Jesus. Assuming these two platforms as givens within critical biblical scholarship, questions follow as to how robust they are and what the evidentiary bases might be for whatever views are held. As a result, its five triennia have addressed a steady progression of issues, inviting presentations from a wide variety of perspectives, seeking to include top scholars from around the world who are welcome to argue any case they wish, providing they substantiate claims they
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make with evidence. Responses to essays are also invited as seems fitting to the issues being engaged. Attendance at the meetings has been strong, and over 180 scholars will have presented in these sessions by the project’s culmination. While the inquiry has only just begun, the project’s various approaches to central issues have developed as follows. (1) Critical assessments of critical views were gathered, including five substantial literature reviews, a variety of diverse methodological approaches to the issues, and a case study showing the historical plausibility of the itinerary of Jesus in John over and against the Synoptics (2002–04). (2) Aspects of historicity were explored in the three main sections of John: chs. 1–4, 5–12, and 13–21 (2005–07). (3) Glimpses of Jesus through the Johannine Lens were gathered regarding the Passion narrative, Jesus’ works, and Jesus’ teachings in John (2008–10). (4) Papers on archaeology and the Fourth Gospel were gathered from leading archaeologists around the world (2009–11). (5) Explorations of methodologies for conducting Johannine historiography were gathered over several sessions. (6) Portraitures of Jesus within the Johannine narrative were gathered over several sessions. (7) Various reviews of important books and commentaries were gathered over several sessions. (8) Special sessions were organized addressing such relevant issues as historicity, Qumran, and the Dead Sea Scrolls (2007), the historical situation of the Johannine Epistles (2011), celebrating the contributions of C. H. Dodd and Raymond Brown (2013), and investigating John and Judaism (2015). (9) A host of papers were gathered on Jesus Remembered in the Johannine Tradition, both intra-traditionally and inter-traditionally (2011–16). (10) Papers were gathered on Jesus Remembered in the Johannine situation (2014–16). Most of the findings of these presentations have or will find their way into published form as follows. In print: ●
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John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 1: Critical Appraisals of Critical Views, SBL Symposium Series 44. Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, S.J., Tom Thatcher, eds. Atlanta: SBL Press, 2007. John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 2: Aspects of History in the Fourth Gospel, Early Christianity and Its Literature 2. Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, S.J., Tom Thatcher, eds. Atlanta: SBL Press, 2009. Qumran and the Dead Sea Scrolls: Sixty Years of Discovery and Debate, Early Judaism and Its Literature 32. Mary Coloe PBVM and Tom Thatcher, eds. Atlanta: SBL Press 2011. Engaging with C. H. Dodd on the Gospel of John: Sixty Years of Tradition and Interpretation. Tom Thatcher and Catrin H. Williams, eds. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013. Communities in Dispute: Current Scholarship on the Johannine Epistles, Early Christianity and Its Literature 13. Paul N. Anderson and R. Alan Culpepper, eds. Atlanta: SBL Press, 2014. John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 3: Glimpses of Jesus through the Johannine Lens, Early Christianity and Its Literature 19. Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, S.J., Tom Thatcher, eds. Atlanta: SBL Press, 2016. John and Judaism, Resources for Biblical Studies 87. R. Alan Culpepper and Paul N. Anderson, eds. Atlanta: SBL Press, 2017.
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In process (some details subject to change): ●
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Portraits of Jesus in the Gospel of John, Library of New Testament Studies. Craig Koester, ed. London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2018. Archaeology and the Fourth Gospel (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, ed. Paul N. Anderson, est. 2019). John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 4: Jesus Remembered in the Johannine Tradition (ed. Paul N. Anderson et al., est. 2019). John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 5: Jesus Remembered in the Johannine Situation (ed. Paul N. Anderson et al., est. 2020). John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 6: Methodologies for Determining Johannine Historicity (ed. Paul N. Anderson, est. 2021).
Additional book-length collections organized by the John, Jesus, and History Steering Committee and its members over its fifteen-year history include (1) edited volumes by Tom Thatcher and sometimes others on Jesus in Johannine tradition, thirty-six essays by senior and emerging Johannine scholars worldwide on their most important convictions regarding Johannine issues, treatments of orality and media-culture studies in relation to the emergence of gospel traditions, and a celebration of John’s literary anatomy and diverse approaches to its character and function;43 and (2) the Johannine Monograph Series, edited by Paul Anderson and Alan Culpepper, getting back into print some of the most important of Johannine monographs over the years— with new critical forewords describing the flow of Johannine scholarship in relation to that volume.44 (3) In addition to these contributions, members of the Steering Committee have their own important contributions to make, from a variety of angles and perspectives, and the quest for Jesus in bi-optic perspective cannot be monological in its exercise. Other scholars also have their own approaches to the issues, and as Mark Allan Powell45 has noted, this significant ground-shift has made it evident that the Gospel of John can no longer be ignored within the historical quest for Jesus. The question, of course, is how to approach the issues involved. Any way forward will need to consider both the perils of using and not using John in the historical quest for Jesus, a strategy for analyzing John alongside the Synoptics, criteria for determining Johannine and Synoptic historicity, and a means of thinking about gospel historicity in ways that include gradations of plausibility in constructing a critical understanding of the subject: Jesus. Mindful of the foibles involved, the perils of using and not using John in historical-Jesus Research are worth considering.
Perils of using John in Jesus Research: Daunted by the Johannine riddles The distancing of the Gospel of John from historical interests, especially involving the quest for the Jesus of history over and against the Christ of faith, is understandable. After all, when engaging the multiplicity of Johannine riddles, numerous perils abound!
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These historical riddles largely have to do with John’s similarities with, and differences from, the Synoptics, as well as John’s highly theological thrust. On Synoptic-Johannine differences, some of these issues can be harmonized, but others cannot. The scholar must choose between the two traditions, and John most often loses out to the other three. On aspects of theology, John’s Logos-hymn to the preexistent Christ, wondrous signs, and high-Christological material function to eclipse aspects of John’s mundane representations of Jesus and his ministry. After all, the rhetorical emphasis on Jesus’ being the Messiah (Christ) and the Son of God calls into question the disinterested objectivity of the narrator, raising doubts about the overall enterprise as well as particular details. Therefore, the following perils cannot be ignored if one attempts to use John in Jesus Research.
Differences of inclusion Differences in inclusion between John and the Synoptics are problematic in both directions. If John really does represent first-hand memory of Jesus and his ministry, how could it possibly have omitted some of the most notable features of Jesus’ ministry? While these riddles are more fully spelled out elsewhere,46 a suggestive overview illustrates the challenge. Synoptic presentations missing from John include: ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●
Birth narratives, followed by genealogies of Jesus’ heritage The baptism of Jesus by John, followed by John’s arrest and death The temptation of Jesus in the wilderness The calling of the Twelve Jesus’ extensive preaching on the Kingdom of God and its character Jesus’ teaching his followers by means of parables Jesus’ healing of lepers and women Jesus’ casting out of demons Jesus’ dining with sinners, tax collectors, and Pharisees Jesus’ sending out his disciples by twos in ministry The transfiguration of Jesus and the appearances of Moses and Elijah An extended journey to Jerusalem through Jericho Beatitudes and fulfillments of the Law Woes to Scribes and Pharisees The institution of a remembrance meal at the last supper The cursing of a fig tree An apocalyptic discourse
Here the critical question cannot but follow: if John represents a historical memory of Jesus and his ministry, how could it not include so many of the basics featured in Mark and its Synoptic counterparts? Of course, there are many other scenarios and reports in the Synoptics that have gone missing in John, but these are some more notable omissions in John. Likewise, a good number of features in John are not found in the Synoptics, and here the question cuts in the opposite direction. If indeed John’s
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presentation of Jesus’ ministry is rooted in historical memory, how could these features have not been known and included by the other gospel writers? After all, if they had been known, surely they would most likely not have been omitted. Johannine elements of Jesus’ ministry missing from the Synoptics include: ● ● ● ● ●
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The early ministry of John the Baptist before being imprisoned Disciples of John leaving him and following Jesus The wedding miracle at Cana Multiple trips to Jerusalem before the final one Extended dialogues with the likes of Nicodemus, the Samaritan woman, religious leaders in Jerusalem, Peter, the sisters of Lazarus, Pilate, Mary Magdalene, Thomas, and others Traveling through and staying in Samaria, garnering a Samaritan following Healings in Jerusalem: the lame man and the blind man Confrontations by leaders in Jerusalem, leading to extended engagements I-am sayings connecting a predicate nominative with the identity of Jesus Long discourses about Jesus’ being sent from the Father The raising of Lazarus from the dead Consternation by Caiaphas over a Roman backlash and the sacrificing of Jesus Jesus’ washing his disciples’ feet Peter’s role at various points in the narrative The presentation of the Beloved Disciple as being in close relationship with Jesus Topographical and sensory details: about the Temple, Jacob’s Well, the Samaritans’ worship site, five porticoes, Gabbatha, the stone pavement, spices used for the burial, distances, elevations, temperatures, smells Political dynamics in relation to the Roman presence Jewish customs and terms explained to Hellenistic audiences
Of course, multiple similarities also abound between John and the Synoptics. The beginning of Jesus’ ministry is likened to that of John the Baptist, Jesus calls a cadre of disciples to be involved with him in his ministry, he performs healings on the Sabbath, he embraces the disenfranchised while challenging religious authorities, he is engaged combatively by religious authorities, a feeding/sea-crossing set of events is remembered, Peter makes a pivotal confession, a momentous visit to Jerusalem involves an ironic triumphal entry; Jesus clears the Temple, teaches in Jerusalem, is anointed by a woman, holds a last supper with his disciples, departs to a garden, is betrayed by Judas and arrested, is beaten and maltreated, is denied by Peter, a disciple severs the ear of another at which Jesus commands the putting away of the sword, Jesus is tried in Jewish and Roman settings, is sentenced to death, is crucified, and is reported to have been encountered in the post-resurrection experiences of his followers. Therefore, between John and the Synoptics, multiple similarities and differences abound, and these must be evaluated critically in terms of their plausible historicity.
Differences of presentation A second problem with seeing John as a historically rooted tradition is that it differs with the Synoptics in significant ways that cannot simply be harmonized. In these and
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other instances, the tendency of historical scholars is to go with the Synoptic majority over and against John; and while the criterion of multiple attestation can indeed affirm the likelihood of a detail or theme being more historically likely, it cannot serve effectively as a means of rejecting the lone account or presentation in Matthew, Luke, or John. Further, if Matthew and Luke are making use of Mark, even similar-thoughdifferent renderings of Mark may merely imply their modifications of Mark rather than independent corroborations of historical memory. Along these lines, because John is so pervasively independent of the Synoptics, perhaps presenting alternative views with intentionality, multiple attestation as a basis for determining John’s ahistoricity is deeply flawed. The contest, most foundationally, is between John and Mark, and if Mark represents an amalgam of material ordered for narratological reasons, Mark’s sequence of events itself might be more conjectural than chronological. Problematic Differences in Chronology and Itinerary: ●
Aspects of Chronology − The ministries of Jesus and the Baptizer (Jesus begins ministering before John was thrown into prison in John; after John was thrown into prison in the Synoptics) − The timing of the Temple incident (early in John; later in the Synoptics) − The number of Passovers during Jesus’ ministry (three in John; one in the Synoptics) − The timing of the last supper (Passover eve in John; a Passover meal in the Synoptics) − The timing of the crucifixion (noon in John; 9:00 a.m. in Mark)
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Aspects of Jesus’ Travels − Visits to Jerusalem (at least four times in John; once in the Synoptics) − Largely ministering in the North: Galilee (Synoptics); largely ministering in the South: Judea (John) − Samaria: to be avoided (Matthew), to be traveled through and engaged (John and Luke) − Traveling with his disciples (largely Synoptics) and sometimes alone (largely John)
Of course, Jesus could have cleansed the Temple twice, but did he, really? The events seem very similar in their presentation. Along these and other lines, one cannot have it both ways. One must go with either the Synoptics or John. Then again, just because Jesus made a final trip to Jerusalem, this does not mean it was his first visit. The fact that he was not arrested immediately upon his celebrated entry—in John or the Synoptics— suggests (with John) that he was a known entity among the Roman guards.47 Then again, other differences in presentation are also worthy of consideration, especially when two or more of the Synoptics corroborate each other in distinctive ways. For instance, not only does Mark present Jesus as teaching in parables about the Kingdom of God, but Matthew and Luke do as well. The Johannine Jesus does not, however, and his words are often difficult to distinguish from those of the narrator or John the Baptist. This seems a legitimate case wherein the form and content of Jesus’
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teaching the Synoptics are closer to the Jesus of history, and John’s presentation of Jesus’ teachings coheres with the thought and language forms of the Evangelist. Additionally, several other aspects of Jesus’ ministry in terms of style and emphasis are also worthy of consideration. Therefore, the following distinctive presentations of Jesus’ ministry require critical analysis when comparing and contrasting John and the Synoptics. Problematic Differences in Jesus’ Teachings and Ministry: ●
Aspects of Jesus’ Teachings − Featuring parables (Synoptics); featuring I-am sayings (John) − Jesus speaks in short, pithy sayings (especially in Mark); Jesus expands into long, drawn-out discourses (John) − Jesus teaches largely about the Kingdom (Synoptics); Jesus teaches about the King and his life-giving work (John) − Messianic secrecy is asserted by Jesus (especially in Mark); messianic openness is displayed (extensively in John) − Jesus claims to fulfill the Law of Moses by pointing to its radical center (Synoptics); Jesus claims that Moses writes of him (John) − Jesus reduces the Ten Commandments to two: loving God and loving neighbor, calling also for the love of enemies (Synoptics); Jesus issues a new commandment: love one another (John) − Jesus teaches that the Son of Man will return before the apostles have died (Synoptics); Jesus never said that the Beloved Disciple would not die before he returned (John)
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Aspects of Jesus’ Ministry: Operations and Concerns − Jesus is baptized by John (Synoptics); Jesus’ baptism is not narrated, and he himself did not baptize, although his disciples did (John) − Jesus dines with sinners, tax collectors, and Pharisees (Synoptics); Jesus engages a Samaritan woman and is offered hospitality in Samaria (John) − Jesus performs healings of lepers and exorcisms of demoniacs (Synoptics); he does neither of these in John but is accused of having a demon by Jerusalem leaders − Jesus sends his disciples out in twos to perform ministry (Synoptics); Jesus travels mostly with his disciples (John) − Jesus performs miracles primarily in the north (Galilee, Synoptics); Jesus performs miracles/signs in the South (Judea, John) − Jesus institutes a meal of remembrance (Synoptics); Jesus ordains serving one another at the last supper (John) − The pivotal confession is made by Peter (Synoptics); momentous confessions are made by Nathanael and Martha (John) − Jesus ministers and travels with male disciples (Mark); Jesus engages women meaningfully in his ministry (John)
Some of these differences, of course, can be harmonized. Just because Jesus preached in parables about the Kingdom of God, this does not mean that he said nothing of himself. Then again, the Jesus of the Synoptics seems self-effacing—very much unlike
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the self-presenting Jesus we have in John. The Synoptic Jesus dines with sinners and tax collectors, but this commensality with the marginalized is missing from John. The Matthean Jesus forbids travel to Samaria, but John’s Jesus not only ventures through Samaria, but, the woman at the well becomes the apostle to the Samaritans and that mission is successful. In both John and the Synoptics Jesus performs healings on the Sabbath, but John does not present Jesus as an exorcist or a healer of lepers. Are these simply omissions by John, or do we have a different and less historically connected understanding of Jesus here displayed? Of course, the theological slants and rhetorical interests of the gospel narrators are also factors in the differences in presentation between John and the Synoptics, so these must be considered as well.
Differences in theological slant and narration Foundational differences are also clear when one considers the sort of Jesus that is presented in Mark and the Synoptics when held in sharp relief against the sort of Jesus presented in John. Some of these differences are factors of arrangements of material and emphases made; others are factors of narrative designs and stated purposes. Theological and Narrative Differences: ●
Theological Designs and Emphases: − Jesus comes preaching the Kingdom and repentance (Mark and the Synoptics); Jesus teaches the essentiality of being born from above and led by the Spirit (John) − The urgency of Jesus’ ministry is highlighted (Mark); more extended engagements with his followers are narrated (John) − Moses and Elijah forecast Jesus’ Messiahship in the work of John the Baptist and on the Mount of Transfiguration (Mark and the Synoptics); John denies being Elijah and the Prophet (Moses) and has no Transfiguration scenario, as Jesus fulfills both the typologies of Moses and Elijah (John) − Faith is required for miracles to happen (the Synoptics); the signs of Jesus lead people to faith (John) − The value of the feeding is that people ate and were satisfied (Mark and the Synoptics); the value of the feeding is not that people ate and were satisfied— they failed to see the feeding as a revelatory sign (John) − The martyrdom of the sons of Zebedee is foretold by Jesus (Mark); the martyrdom of Peter is foretold (John) − Jesus affirms Peter’s authority and institutes structural leadership (Matthew); Peter affirms Jesus’ authority, and Jesus emphasizes the availability of the Holy Spirit to all (John) − Jesus teaches his disciples to pray (Matthew and Luke); Jesus prays to the Father on behalf of his disciples (John)
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Implicit and Stated Purposes of Authors: − The virgin birth of Jesus shows his divinity (Matthew and Luke); the Logos hymn shows the Son’s agency from the Father as the incarnate Word (John)
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While not all of these parallels between John and the Synoptics are entirely close, they do display remarkable contrasts in their presentations of Jesus of Nazareth. Indeed, they could reflect different perspectives on the historical figure of Jesus—likely factors of different emphases in the preaching of the apostles and subsequent ministries. On the other hand, the questions raised by these differences raise precisely that question: how far have the departures in the preaching, teaching, writing, gathering, and editing of accounts of Jesus and his ministry strayed from a close and fitting representation of who he was and what he came to do, rather than reflecting the developing understandings of Jesus in the second or third generations of the Jesus movement?
Impossibilities of harmonization For these and other reasons, it is understandable why including John in the historical quest of Jesus is fraught with problems and headaches. Indeed, the three-dozen Johannine riddles outlined in fuller detail elsewhere show why the best scholars in the world still find themselves in contention over how to approach John’s composition, development, and purpose(s), let alone how to integrate one’s understanding of the Johannine Jesus with his presentations in the Synoptics. While some differences can be harmonized, and need to be, others defy harmonization. Therefore, one must at times choose between John and the Synoptics, and critical scholars have largely sided with the Synoptics over and against John. Among these dichotomies, did Jesus speak in parables about the Kingdom, sending his disciples out in twos, healing lepers and delivering the afflicted from demons, and calling twelve disciples to be his followers? If one says, “yes” to these issues, one has sided with the Synoptics against John—worthy judgments, in my view. However, if one infers Jesus ministered for more than one year (perhaps two or three), performed signs in Jerusalem as well as Galilee, traveled to Jerusalem several times during his ministry, ministered alongside John the Baptist for a time, and angered the Jerusalem authorities before his final visit, one has just sided with John’s historicity over and against that of Mark and the Synoptics—also worthy judgments in my view.48 On a variety of issues, presentations of Jesus in John and the Synoptics corroborate each other in independent ways. On a good number of other issues, however, the critical scholar cannot have it both ways; one must side with John or the Synoptics, not both. Lest it be inferred, however, that including John in the quest for Jesus is motivated by traditional or conservative interests, the following facts invite pause. First, just as traditional views have numerable problems to them, critically, the standard answers posed by critical scholars have new sets of problems that make the dehistoricization of John and the de-Johannification of Jesus untenable critically. Some good points are made, but more nuanced views are needed. Second, what if John is found to be historically preferable on a number of matters over and against the Synoptics? How
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would traditional or conservative scholars deal with John being right and the three Synoptic Gospels being wrong—one against three? Such a venture is not motivated by conservative interests; it is required by critical inquiry. Further, one can appreciate why some conservative scholars have caved in and embraced the expulsion of John from canons of historicity, locating it within repositories of theology. They can still hold to their theological uses of John—embracing the Johannine Christ of faith, without challenging a more facile synthesis of Synoptic-based Jesus Research—befriending the Synoptic Jesus of history. However, such an approach sidesteps the critical facts that John’s tradition includes a plethora of mundane and historically grounded content, and that some of John’s presentation of Jesus bears greater plausibility than Synoptic corollaries. Therefore, despite the perils of using John in the quest for Jesus, the perils of not using John are far greater critically. If all legitimate sources are to be utilized, this calls for a new quest for Jesus.
Perils of not using John in Jesus Research: Engaging the Johannine riddles One of the considerable advances made by the Jesus Seminar since the mid-1980s is their endeavor to make use of all ancient resources available in the historical quest of Jesus. In particular, the special focus on the Gospel of Thomas, cohering with corroborating themes in the canonical Gospels, extended the potential database of materials to be accessed in garnering an inclusive approach to the venture. However, the greatest weakness of the Jesus Seminar had to do with its methodological approach—excluding John from the canons of historicity, and even seeking to rid the Jesus-research database of all Johannine semblances simply because of an anti-Johannine bias on account of John’s assumed ahistoricity. But what if John’s tradition does contain some or a good deal of historical memory? If so, the dehistoricization of John and the de-Johannification of Jesus are fraught with new sets of critical problems, from beginning to end, and these must be corrected if there is to be any critical sobriety in the historical quest of Jesus. This is especially the case given the limitations of Markan historicity.49 (1) The first problem with these moves is the hyperextended juxtaposition of history and theology, as though one cannot include the other; even Strauss’ leveraging of that dichotomy was confessedly motivated by theological interest.50 (2) The second problem is the fact that Mark and the other Synoptics too are steeped in theological interests, so their approaches cannot be taken at face-value as objectively historical any more than John’s can. (3) John contains a good deal of mundane material that appears to reflect historical memory and content, despite its theological thrust; and, some of John’s high-Christological material is added later, not a part of the original narrative. (4) At least some of John’s material either corroborates or corrects Synoptic presentations of Jesus—arguably for historical reasons, not theological ones. (5) At least some Synoptic presentations of Jesus either corroborate or modify our understandings of John’s presentation of Jesus, even though John was probably finalized last. (6) As a result, new criteria for determining historicity must be developed for critical use, finding ways of including John’s witness alongside the Synoptics if the critical quest for
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Jesus is to proceed as a historically adequate critical venture. If all sources are going to be used in the historical quest of Jesus, a way must be found to make use of the Gospel of John.
John, the most mundane of the Gospels While John is in some ways the most theological of the four canonical Gospels, it is also the most mundane among their number.51 Like Mark, John provides a bridge between Jewish language and customs reflecting primitive memories of Jesus and his ministry, and their later deliveries in Hellenistic settings. Further, John includes more topographical and archaeologically corroborated references than all the other Gospels combined—canonical or otherwise. John’s spatial and temporal references also cohere with grounded understandings of Palestine, unlikely to have been fabricated a thousand miles away in an Asia Minor setting, and it is an empirical fact that John references a good deal of detail that shows signs of sensorially derived information. So, the empirical fact of John’s empirical details defies claims to its narrative’s eclipse by theological perspectives and interests. Therefore, if John’s story is rooted in theological investments alone, rather than first-hand memory of Jesus, how does one account for John’s grounded features as the most mundane of the Gospel narratives about Jesus? First, note the grounded phenomenology of John’s rendering of Galilean, Samaritan, and Judean knowledge for audiences of a diaspora and Hellenistic setting. Aramaic and Hebraic names are both preserved and translated for non-Jewish audiences: Peter’s Aramaic nickname is given, Kēphas (1:42), the Hebraic Golgotha is translated (as it is in Mark 15:22) as the “Place of the Skull” (John 19:17); Rabbi means “teacher” (1:38); Messias is translated “Christ” (the word for “anointed one” 1:41; 4:25); the nickname for Thomas, is given as Didymus (the word for “twin,” 11:16; 20:24; 21:2); Mary Magdalene references Jesus in Aramaic, Rabbouni (translated as “teacher” 20:16); and the Sea of Galilee is identified by its Greco-Roman name, “Tiberias” (6:1; 21:1). These Aramaic and Hebraic terms would not have been transposed within a Hellenistic setting if they had not been a part of the earlier Johannine tradition (contrastive to Luke, which is mostly dependent upon Mark), and they would not have needed translation if they had not been rendered in a Greek-culture setting (contrastive to Matthew, which was delivered in a highly Jewish setting). In that sense, John and Mark are similar in that they display Palestine-rooted memories of Jesus’ words and works delivered later in cross-cultural settings. If these grounded features were concocted or invented in a Greco-Roman setting such as Ephesus, the narrator would first have had to travel to Palestine to get a feel for the ethos of the scenes and scenarios reported; they are clearly cross-cultural in their origin and delivery. Second, John’s narrator explains Jewish customs and measurement features to distant audiences, seeking to account for developments and turns within the narrative. The capacity of the stone jars used for Jewish purification practices is described (holding about two or three metrētēa—twenty or thirty gallons, 2:6); Jews do not share drinking vessels with Samaritans (4:9); the day being the Sabbath meant no doing of work (5:9; 9:14); the Jewish leaders could not enter the Roman palace if they wished to eat the Passover, thereby avoiding Gentile-contact impurity (18:28); the Jewish leaders did
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not want dead bodies left on the crosses during the Sabbath, as this would be defiling (19:31); Jesus’ followers prepared his body according to Jewish burial customs (19:40). And, values and weights are noted: the feeding and the perfume were valued at 200 and 300 denarii (6:7; 12:5), and the weight of the embalming spices was a hundred pounds (19:39). Likewise, several distance measurements are referenced, corresponding with known realities: the middle of the lake is described as 25 or 30 stadia (three or four miles, 6:19), Bethany is just under two miles from Jerusalem (15 stadia, 11:18), and the boat to which Jesus presented himself after the resurrection was 200 pēchōn from shore (a hundred yards, 21:8). These sorts of details display first-hand familiarity with Jewish customs, measurements, distances, and other features rendered for distanced audiences somewhat removed from Palestine itself. Third, topographical and geographical knowledge is supported by the facts on the ground as well as archaeological research. John’s baptizing work is described as “across the Jordan” (in Bethabara, not Bethany, in some ancient manuscripts; 1:28; 3:26; 10:40) and in Aenon-near-Salim, as there is much water there (3:23); Sychar (the site of Jacob’s Well) and Mount Gerizim (a Samaritan site of worship, 4:4-6, 20) are known to the narrator; Jesus and others travel “up to” Jerusalem (2:13; 5:1; 11:55; 12:20) and “down to” Capernaum (2:12); the Sheep Gate in Jerusalem is mentioned as a known location reference (5:2); in Jerusalem Jesus teaches in the Temple near its treasury (7:14, 28; 8:20; 18:20) and near Solomon’s portico (8:20; 10:23); the Pool of Bethzatha is described as having five porticoes (suggesting two pools with a column down the middle, 5:2); the Pool of Siloam is a purification pool (confirmed by archaeologists just over a decade ago 9:1-9); the Kidron is known to be a winter-flowing stream (18:1); the house and courtyard of the High Priest are described with familiarity (18:13-15); the Praetorium of Pilate is mentioned (18:28, 33; 19:9) as well as the stone pavement (lithostrōtos in Greek), though a different name is given in Hebrew (Gabbatha, meaning “ridge of the house,” 19:13); Jesus was crucified outside the city (19:20, corroborated by Heb 13:12); and Jesus is buried in an unused garden tomb (19:41-42, corroborated by Luke 23:53). Fourth, the Evangelist is familiar with places from which people hail, reflecting personal knowledge and connectedness with individuals seemingly known during the ministry of Jesus. Philip, Andrew, and Peter were from Bethsaida—a royal Greek city (1:44; note that Greeks are introduced to Jesus by Philip, 12:21); Nathanael is purported to have hailed from Cana of Galilee (2:1, 6; 21:2); some of Jesus’ teaching took place in the Capernaum Synagogue (2:12; 4:46; 6:17, 24, 59); Judas is described as being from Kerioth in Judea (6:71; 12:4; 13:2); Bethany is the home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus (11:1, 18; 12:1); Mary of Magdala features prominently (19:25-26; 20:1; 18); Joseph of Arimathea provides a burial place (19:38). Thus, many people are identified by their geographic place of origin in John. Additionally, special knowledge of relations between persons is referenced generously. Andrew and Peter are described as brothers (1:40, 44; 6:8; 12:22); “those of Zebedee” are mentioned in the last scene (21:2); Peter is identified as the son of Jonas (1:42; 21:15, 16, 17); the anonymous disciple loved by Jesus is a key figure in John’s narrative (13:23; 19:26, 27; 20:2; 21:24); Annas is the father-in-law of Caiaphas (18:13, 24), the high priest that year (11:49; 18:13, 14, 24, 28); the servant of the high priest is Malchus (18:10); Jesus’ brothers (7:3, 5, 10), father (1:45; 6:42), and mother (2:3; 6:42; 19:25) are mentioned; the family of Lazarus
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is described extensively in John 11; and John the Baptist and his followers witness to Jesus as the Messiah/Christ extensively (1:6-8, 15, 19-35; 3:22-30). Fifth, given John’s claims to first-hand historical knowledge of Jesus and his ministry, the fact that knowledge related to all five senses is attested to in its narrative requires critical consideration instead of being dismissed perfunctorily on account of John’s high-Christological material. John’s distinctive material could indeed be concocted and made to seem realistic as a function of verisimilitude, but the demonstration of such is different from simply asserting it as a conjecture. Given that the Beloved Disciple is remembered as being close to Jesus (13:23-25), is present at the cross and entrusted the care of Jesus’ mother (19:16-42), accompanies Peter to the tomb of Jesus (20:1-10), points out the Lord to Peter on the lake (21:1-7), and is presented as someone of whom Peter is jealous, though apparently deceased at the time the Johannine narrative is finalized (21:18-24), the witness of that unnamed figure deserves critical consideration in seeking to discern the character and origin of the Johannine witness. Or, to put it in the words of James Charlesworth: “Whose witness stands behind the Fourth Gospel?”52 Regardless of who the eyewitness or the unnamed leading disciple might have been, John’s editor and Community attest to their conviction that his testimony is true (19:34-35; 21:24), thus implying a known-though-departed leader’s memory and rendering of the ministry of Jesus.53 Therefore, just as John’s material includes the most elevated and theological presentations of Jesus among the four canonical Gospels, John also is the most mundane and grounded among them. John’s empiricism is thus an empirical fact. So, until an alternative view is established, the Johannine editor’s claims that the Johannine narrative reflects an individuated memory of Jesus’ ministry must be taken seriously as a narratival attestation with implications for understanding more about its subject, Jesus of Nazareth. While John’s Prologue affirms a preexistent view of the Father’s Son as the divine Logos, the bulk of the Johannine narrative conveys political, religious, sociological, and experiential concerns—the perspectives rooted in points, not stars.54 John’s reflections are existential every bit as much as they are transcendent, neither of which controverts the originative claims and epistemic character of its individuated memory of Jesus.
The Johannine Prologue: A communal affirmation of the narrative While nearly all critical scholars agree that the Johannine Prologue reflects a worship community’s affirmation of belief in the central elements of John’s story of Jesus, fewer have considered the implications of its later development in relation to the more mundane narrative.55 John 1:1-18 is more similar in its form and its content to 1 John 1:1-4 than it is to the rest of the Gospel’s narrative, and just as the prologue to the first Johannine Epistle reflects a community’s affirming response to the Johannine story of Jesus, so does the Gospel’s Prologue. Given that John 21 is clearly added to the first ending of the Gospel by an editor, who also explains that he is not the author of the narrative, attributing that contribution to the deceased, dearly Beloved Disciple (21:2324), a likely inference is that the author of the Epistles served as the final editor of the Gospel (with Bultmann, here). As a result, a robust theory of Johannine composition
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must accompany critical judgments as to what features of John’s narrative are rooted in historical memory and claim and which are rooted in theological development and attestation. Neither critical Jesus Research nor critical Johannine scholarship has effectively addressed John’s composition factors as a basis for making distinctions between John’s historical claims and theological interests. Here some of the issues presented in the Johannine Epistles provide clues to the Gospel’s interests and operations. More specifically, if the Johannine situation is dealing with aspects of church unity, engaging the world, denials of Jesus as the Christ, and denials of Jesus having come in the flesh, these features account for at least some of John’s distinctive portrayal of Jesus in the narrative.56 Therefore, if the later Johannine material (siding here with Lindars,57 Ashton,58 Brown,59 Smith,60 and others) included John 1:1-18, 19:34-35, chapters 6, 15–17, and 21, and a few other asides, the following issues are clarified. First, John’s Prologue is not the first stroke of the quill, signaling a divine-Logos presentation of Jesus in the narrative. That was added later, whereas the original beginning of John is more like Mark—beginning with the ministry of John the Baptist about Jesus’ being the Jewish Messiah. Therefore, some of the primary reasons for excluding all of John’s narrative from historicity-consideration are based upon the flawed inference that the Prologue sets the stage for the Gospel’s narration, when it was clearly added to enhance the reception of the narrative, reflecting a later and more developed theological set of understandings, representing Johannine Christianity’s faith commitments. So, John’s Prologue says more about the history of the Johannine situation than it does the Jesus of history, and it should not be used for or against historical-Jesus studies in relation to John’s story of Jesus; preexistent divinity claims are not a part of John’s original narrative. Rather, the original beginning of John’s narrative is more mundane, focusing on John the Baptizer—more similar to Mark 1:115 than to Heb 1:1-4. Second, what is apparent in the first edition of John’s narrative is that its material does indeed seek to prove that Jesus is the Messiah-Christ, fulfilling the prophecies and typologies of Moses and Elijah. Here we see some pushback against Synoptic views: John is neither Elijah nor Moses; Jesus is. And, Jesus’ challenges to Sabbath regulations and religious opposition in the name of Moses and the Law are substantiated by the claims that Moses wrote of Jesus (Deut 18:15-22). When both the narrator and Jesus declare that his proleptic word has come true, this shows that he indeed fulfills the Prophetlike-Moses typology and that Jesus is the Mosaic Messiah/Christ (John 2:22; 13:19; 18:9). Virtually all of the Son-Father relationship references are made with reference to Jesus’ prophetic agency, rooted in this Mosaic typology, not a Gnostic RedeemerMyth or even metaphysical claims about the divinity of the Son.61 Those discussions developed later, but John’s foundational presentation of the Son’s representation of the Father coheres closely with the parable of the vineyard owner’s rejected son in Mark 12, and to see it as originating in high-Christological perspective is anachronistic and wrong. Therefore, John’s original five signs of Jesus (assuming John 6 and 21 were added later), complementing the five books of Moses, are designed to invite belief in Jesus as the Messiah-Christ, availing the gift of life in his name (20:31).
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Third, John’s later material shows evidence of several issues in the Johannine situation that are being addressed in the meantime. While the earlier Gospel narrative is designed to convince audiences that Jesus is the Jewish Messiah, not all believe, and some depart from the Community, plausibly returning to the Synagogue. Their interest may have been preserving Mosaic monotheism, and hence the claim that if they deny the Son, they will lose the Father (1 John 2:18-25). Apparently, this uneven reception among “his own” is attested in the later reflection of the Gospel’s Prologue (John 1:10-13). Therefore, John’s high-Christological material serves this apologetic interest, and should be understood in that way. In John’s later material, though, we also find the most incarnational and anti-docetic thrust of John’s narrative. Apparently addressing those who refuse to believe Jesus came in the flesh (1 John 4:1-3; 2 John 7), the Gospel’s Prologue asserts “We beheld his flesh” (John 1:14), wherein the glory of God is paradoxically revealed. Likewise, Jesus’ disciples must ingest his flesh and blood if they expect to retain the gift of eternal life, although swallowing that message is a hard thing to do (6:51-67). In the world, Jesus’ followers will suffer tribulation (15:2627; 16:33), and an eyewitness attests to having seen water and blood pouring from the side of the crucified Lord (19:34-35). The martyrological death of Peter is foretold, and Jesus’ followers are called to be faithful, no matter what the cost (21:15-24). Aside from high and low aspects of John’s Christology presented in the Prologue, the ambivalent presentation of Jesus’ signs is also worth considering. On one hand, John’s signs are embellished; on the other hand, they are also existentialized. While some of them defy naturalistic explanations and are therefore problematic for causeand-effect approaches to historiography, it is also interesting that the narrator presents Jesus as rebuking the seeking of signs (4:48; 6:26), and those who have not believed are especially blessed (20:29). The point here is that John’s high and low Christological elements reflect early and late understandings of Jesus within the Johannine tradition, reflecting also developments within the Johannine situation. Therefore, while the Gospel’s Prologue does indeed contain theological affirmations of Jesus’ divinity, it does not eclipse the more mundane, historical content within the narrative, which may be serviceable in the historical quest of Jesus. Likewise, just because the Gospel of Thomas asserts that one must become a male to enter the Kingdom (Gos. Thom. 114), this does not mean the entire collection is a product of Gnostic speculation alone. What is true about the Johannine tradition is that both early and late material appears to contain high and low presentations of Jesus, so the critical scholar must seek to make sense of the narrative’s particular material on its own terms before judging John’s story of Jesus to be historical or ahistorical, overall.
Mimesis or memory? Given that John possesses more nonsymbolic illustrative details than any of the other Gospels, one inference among those swayed by John’s theological thrust is to infer that these details have been added, not as indications of first-hand contact with terrain and historical events, but as mimetic imitations of reality. While John’s verisimilitude certainly could have been added to make the story more graphic for later audiences, the fact is that Mark also possesses a good deal of this type of detail alongside John.62
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If the inference is that this was a convention employed by contemporary authors, the case could be a worthy one. After all, Philostratus, in his Life of Apollonius of Tyana, renders a graphic narrative, so it is sometimes assumed that John’s narrative is simply fictive and not rooted in historical memory based upon a contemporary convention.63 When analyses of the four canonical Gospels are performed on this very issue, however, the likelihood of such a convention being applied to John’s narrative falls apart, and it does so for three reasons. First, the canonical Gospels are closer to John than narratives about Apollonius two centuries later, so that is the closer genre comparison. Second, when analyses of Mark and the Gospel traditions making use of Mark (Matthew and Luke) are compared, they tend to omit details included in Mark, generalizing the detail instead of adding detail. Matthew and Luke will add units of narrative, but they overall omit names, places, and graphic details, sometimes adding generalizing statements about Jesus’ fulfilling all righteousness (Matt) or teaching his followers and others about the Kingdom (Luke). Therefore, if it is argued that the character of John’s prolific inclusion of detail is to be informed by contemporary parallels, the results point more directly in the direction of first-hand memory as opposed to fictive mimesis. Third, some of these details featured by John and Mark (200 and 300 denarii, green grass / much grass) are not repeated by Matthew and Luke, so if some sort of contact is to be inferred between the Markan and Johannine traditions this points to oral-tradition contact rather than written-tradition influence. A thorough set of analyses between Synoptic parallels with John 6 and 18-19 shows that John and Mark appear to possess independent memories of Jesus’ ministry, despite impressive contacts. This likelihood is suggested by the fact that there is a good deal of nonsymbolic, illustrative detail in John’s rendering of these events in Jesus’ ministry, and by the fact that neither Matthew nor Luke tends to add details to their treatments of Mark.64 As a result, the strongest critical inference is that despite John’s theological thrust, John’s narrative is a dramatized history rather than a historicized drama. The latter is disconfirmed based upon the closest parallels: Matthew’s and Luke’s uses of Mark.
John in relation to Mark: An alternative history? Johannine scholarship has debated the relation of John to Mark in a number of ways, but several aspects of that relationship are important to establish.65 First, it is wrong to compare the developing Johannine tradition as knowingly alongside all three finalized Synoptic traditions; they probably were not gathered until a half-century or so after John’s narrative was finalized. Therefore, John’s tradition must be compared and contrasted with each of the Synoptic traditions, allowing inferences to emerge from the particulars of that analysis, beginning with Mark. Second, the contacts between John’s and Mark’s traditions cannot be simplistically assessed as factors of the completed documents; a longer dialectical history of intertraditional contact is more likely. That being the case, various forms of contact between oral and written traditions deserve critical consideration in developing an adequate approach. Third, because John shows no identical similarities with Mark, it cannot be said to be dependent upon Mark, nor can it be claimed that John is totally unaware of and independent of Mark. Most likely
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is the view that John’s narrator was familiar with Mark, perhaps heard as a narration in one or more meetings for worship (with Mackay).66 If such were the case, John’s earlier developments show signs of being written for hearers of Mark, explaining John’s departures from Mark as well as muted echoes.67 Therefore, John follows Mark’s pattern but produces an alternative history as an augmentation of Mark, and to some degree as a corrective to Mark. John’s first edition is likely the second Gospel narrative, drawn together around 80–85 CE. Fourth, John’s later material seems to harmonize John’s narrative with Mark and the other Gospels, after the death of the Beloved Disciple, likely drawn together around 100 CE. Assuming that John’s narrative developed independently of Mark, but with at least a general awareness of its influence, John’s presentation of Jesus and his ministry likely provides an alternative history, to be considered alongside Mark as the second Gospel, though its initial influence seems to have remained local. In addition to the discernible “interfluence” between the oral stages of the pre-Markan and early Johannine traditions,68 John’s presentation of Jesus should be seen as differing from Mark because of its historical interest rather than as a result of ignorance or theologized embellishment. First, John’s story of Jesus plausibly augments Mark’s narrative chronologically and geographically. With apparent awareness of Mark 1:14, which asserts that Jesus’ ministry begins after John was thrown into prison, John 3:24 clarifies that the beginning of Jesus’ ministry in the Johannine narrative includes events that transpired before John was thrown into prison. Hence, the Johannine presentation of a less programmatic calling narrative and engagements with the Baptist and his followers explicitly augments Mark’s abrupt beginning. In addition, the reference to the first and second signs of Jesus in John 2:11 and 4:54 reflects John’s chronological augmentation of Mark in presenting two miracles performed before the healings and exorcisms of Mark 1. This action is corroborated by Matthew in its ordering the Capernaum healing from afar before the healing of Simon Peter’s mother-in-law in Matt 8. The other three signs in John’s earlier material augment Mark geographically. In addition to miracles done in Galilee and on the way to Jerusalem, Jesus also performed signs in Jerusalem and Bethany, which also explains the opposition of Judean leaders, which is nonetheless palpable in Mark’s narrative despite his not being reported as having visited until his visit at the culmination of his ministry. Matthew again corroborates John’s accounts, knowingly or otherwise, in reporting that Jesus performed healings in Jerusalem’s Temple precinct upon the blind and the lame (Matt 21:14). Jerusalem miracles of Jesus are only found in John 5 and 9. Luke also includes a second account of Jesus’ raising a young man from the dead, a lesson about two sisters, Mary and Martha, and a parable about a poor dead man named Lazarus (Luke 7:11-17; 10:38-42; 16:19-31), suggesting at least some contact or familiarity with the Johannine tradition. If John’s first edition were performed alongside Mark’s rendering of Jesus’ ministry, it would clearly have been understood as presenting an alternative account, filling in some of Mark’s chronological and geographical lacunas. Second, John seems to correct several additional features of Mark’s chronology and itinerary, including presentations of Jesus’ reception in the north. Explicitly, as Jesus himself had said (in Mark 6:4), that a prophet is not without honor except in his
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hometown, look how the Samaritans and Galileans received him (John 4:41-45)! Further, the Galileans had seen Jesus’ earlier sign performed in Jerusalem at the beginning of his ministry—not the end—at the cleansing of the Temple. This accounts for why Jerusalem leaders were scheming to put Jesus to death already upon his second visit, not simply a culminative response at the end of his ministry (John 5:18 vs. Mark 14:55). Given that Papias cites the opinion of the Johannine Elder that Mark’s rendering of Peter’s preaching is adequate but in the wrong order, it may be assumed that John’s presentation of an early Temple cleansing and multiple trips to Jerusalem reflects an alternative chronological history of Jesus’ ministry as a knowing corrective to Mark, not a theological fabrication. Further, the nearness of the Passover in John 2:13; 6:4; 11:55 palpably reflects political concerns rather than theological exposition, and John’s two- or three-year ministry of Jesus is more historically plausible than Mark’s singlePassover itinerary. John’s presenting the last supper as happening the day before the Passover is also more likely than Mark’s presenting the event as a cultic Passover meal (John 13:1; 19:14; Mark 14:12-14). And, John’s referencing the sixth hour as the time of the crucifixion might be a correction to Mark’s less realistic reference to the third hour, given Mark’s reporting a rather extensive number of things that transpired beforehand (John 19:14; Mark 15:25). In that sense, John’s rendering of the last days of Jesus is more realistic than that of Mark. If the Johannine narrator were familiar with Mark’s ordering and timing of events, these features of the Johannine rendering of Jesus’ ministry should be seen as attempts to set the record straight chronologically and realistically, not theologically. Interestingly, along these lines, Mark actually corroborates some of John’s alternative chronology. For one thing, while Mark references only one Passover, Jesus’ ministry in Mark extends over at least two spring seasons. In addition to the final events in Jesus’ ministry, the green grass of Mark’s feeding narrative (Mark 6:39) reflects the event’s association with an earlier springtime. For another, despite the last supper being presented as a Passover meal in Mark, Jesus is not crucified on the Passover but on the day before the Sabbath (assuming the Passover was on the Sabbath that year, Mark 15:42; John 19:31), thus bolstering confidence in John’s alternative dating. Further, the Temple incident in John, where Jesus is reported to have said something about the destruction of the Temple—causing consternation among the Jerusalem populace—is referenced twice in Mark, despite not having been narrated in Mark. In Mark 14:5759 false witness at Jesus’ trial claim Jesus had spoken about destroying the Temple (apparently referencing the event described in John 2:19), and on the cross, passersby in Mark 15:29 not only repeat Jesus’ reference to the Temple’s destruction, but they also reference his claim to rebuilding it in three days as mentioned only in John 2:19. Mark’s story of Jesus thus appears to convey familiarity with events narrated only in John, so some cross-influence (to use Raymond Brown’s term) appears likely between these two traditions. Therefore, not only do John’s chronological differences from Mark imply a corrective interest, but some of Mark’s material also appears to support John’s rendering independently. Third, if John’s early narrative can be seen as developing alongside Mark’s presentation of Jesus and his ministry, it should be seen as reflecting a dialectical engagement of Mark. Affirming the larger elements of Jesus’ ministry, involving collaboration with
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that of John the Baptist, the gathering of followers, teachings about the spiritual character of God’s workings in the world, healing on the Sabbath, popular reception, resistance from religious leaders, traveling to Jerusalem, culminating in the last days in Jerusalem, John’s rendering of Jesus’ ministry also displays several contradistinctive elements. Whereas the Synoptic rendering emphasizes the Kingdom, messianic secrecy, Jesus’ commands over forces of nature, programmatic elements of disciples’ ministries, formalized sacramentology, the leadership of twelve male disciples, the martyrdom of James and John, and the imminence of the parousia before apostles’ deaths, the Johannine rendering emphasizes the leadership of the King, messianic disclosure, the existential character of Jesus’ signs, familial and Spirit-based aspects of disciples’ ministries, informal ecclesial presentations, the leadership of women and nonmembers of the Twelve, the martyrdom of Peter, and the wrongful representation of Jesus’ words about the parousia despite the apostles’ deaths. Even pointedly, John the Baptist is presented in Mark as fulfilling the typologies of Elijah and the Prophet Moses, whereas in John he denies being such. These typologies are fulfilled by Jesus in the Fourth Gospel, and thus in these cases John’s theological understanding of Jesus and his ministry accounts for at least some of its dialectical engagements of Mark. John’s presenting a theologically interested set of dialectical alternatives to Mark, however, need not imply ahistoricity. Rather, John’s less formal ecclesiology, positive presentation of women in leadership, existentialized view of miracles, and a present eschatological interest may indeed be closer to the ministry of Jesus of Nazareth than their Synoptic counterparts.69 Whatever the case, John’s presentation of Jesus and his ministry appears to have developed alongside Mark in a non-duplicative way, and this can be seen in the selection of materials as well as in the narrator’s first closing statement in John 20:30-31. The reference to Jesus’ having performed many signs in the presence of his disciples should be understood as “I know Mark’s out there; stop bugging me for leaving things out; but these things are written so that you might believe.” By the time the rest of John’s narrative is finalized, the later rendering includes the feeding, sea-crossing, discussion, and Peter’s confession in John 6, thus harmonizing John’s story of Jesus with the Synoptics. It also provides centripetal appeals for unity, counteracting centrifugal tensions within the Johannine situation (John 15-17), and Peter is rehabilitated in John 21, also around a charcoal fire, despite having denied Jesus around the same in John 18. Nonetheless, aware of criticisms for not including other familiar stories of Jesus and his ministry, a defense of John’s alternative presentation is made by the final editor in John 21:25: “Look, if we would have included everything Jesus said and did in the Synoptics and elsewhere, there’d not be enough libraries, let alone enough books to describe these reports—we’re being selective, here, on purpose.” Thus, John’s earlier and later endings defend its augmentation of Mark and the Synoptics against questions raised as to its distinctive character. Interestingly, these facts of John’s similarities to and differences from Mark cohere entirely with John the Elder’s opinion of Mark’s narrative, as represented by Papias around 130 CE (Eusebius, Hist eccl. 3.39):70 Mark, having become the interpreter of Peter, wrote down accurately, though not indeed in order, whatsoever he remembered of the things done or said by
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Christ. For he neither heard the Lord nor followed him, but afterward, as I said, he followed Peter, who adapted his teaching to the needs of his hearers, but with no intention of giving a connected account of the Lord’s discourses, so that Mark committed no error while he thus wrote some things as he remembered them. For he was careful of one thing, not to omit any of the things which he had heard, and not to state any of them falsely.71
While many scholarly commentaries have been offered on this famous paragraph, the connection between its content and the opinion of the Johannine Elder has gone largely unnoticed critically. Further, they cohere with the phenomenology of the JohannineMarkan analysis above in three significant ways. (1) Mark’s narrative is said to be fairly acceptable, but its order is flawed; thus, the Johannine narrative sets the record straight in ways that are largely plausible and are even confirmed by other material in Mark. Further, if Mark was gathering his material in pericopes and snippets, the single visit to Jerusalem may simply reflect Mark’s culminative ordering of events—placing all engagements with religious authorities, the Temple incident, and the last days of Jesus at the very end—for conjectural reasons rather than chronologically informed ones. It takes no historical knowledge to simply assume that the Temple incident led to Jesus’ arrest, trial, and death, but even in Mark Jesus is not arrested immediately after his triumphal entry to Jerusalem. This seems unlikely, and Mark’s chronology is every bit as problematic as John’s is on that score.72 (2) Mark represents Peter’s preaching pretty well, but it was crafted to meet the needs of Peter’s audiences rather than as a fair representation of Jesus’ true intentions. This might be a reference to emerging church structures, male leadership, and an imminent parousia before the death of the apostles; whatever the case, it also appears to reflect a Johannine critique of Petrine renderings of Jesus’ teachings as license to do the same. Therefore, the Johannine Evangelist and redactor may also have paraphrased Jesus’ teachings in their own words, following other precedents—even among the Twelve—providing rather intentional connectives between paraphrastic Jesus’ sayings and related actions. (3) The Johannine Elder clarifies that Mark’s problematic duplicative accounts are forgivable because he was simply trying to be conservative—seeking to leave nothing out. Therefore, two feedings instead of one, multiple healings of the blind and the lame, the casting out of demons and the healing of lepers, even Jesus’ teachings in parables about the Kingdom—these need not be repeated in an independent narrative in the Johannine opinion as cited by Papias. Thus, John’s critique of Mark’s duplicative presentation is reflected in the first edition’s non-duplicative presentation of Jesus and his ministry, as all five of those miracles are not found in Mark. Rather, John’s presentation of Jesus and his ministry offers an augmentation, corrective, and complement to Mark as an alternative history rooted in an individuated gospel tradition rather than speculative theology or fictive narration.
John’s influence upon Luke (and perhaps Q) When assessing the character and origin of distinctive similarities between Luke and John, and also between Q and John, the issues are a bit different.73 While John appears
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to have been finalized last among the canonical Gospels, a common inference among scholars is that John depended on other traditions that had been finalized previously. That approach, however, faces several problems. (1) Just because John is finalized late, this does not imply that its material originated late and only late. Some of it was likely delivered earlier—in written or oral form, or both—and various traditions likely had different histories of contact and engagement with other traditions, including the Johannine. (2) There are no identical similarities between John and the Synoptics; thus, even Barrett is forced to admit that if John made use of Synoptic traditions, it was not in the literary-dependency way that Matthew and Luke made use of Mark. Therefore, not only is it highly unlikely that John is dependent upon Mark, it is even less likely that John depended on Luke; few if any of Luke’s primary features are found in John (birth narratives, temptation scene, Nazareth sermon, parables of the Good Samaritan or the Prodigal Son, etc.). (3) Given that Luke depends on Mark, the places where Luke and John do agree suggest that Luke departs from Mark in Johannine directions as the most plausible inference. Bailey argued that Luke and John may have shared a common source, but that source is imaginary, and there is no evidence or hint of its existence. Thus, the strongest critical inference (with Lamar Cribbs)74 is that because Luke departs from Mark at least six dozen times in ways that coincide with John, the Johannine formative tradition appears to have been familiar to Luke, at least partially, perhaps in oral stages of formation. This may even be suggested directly in Luke 1:2, in which Luke expresses gratitude for what he has received from eyewitnesses and servants of the Logos. Therefore, because several sorts of Johannine content are discernible in Luke, over and against what Luke has garnered from Mark, the strongest critical inference is that the Johannine tradition influenced Luke in several ways. It could be that these contacts came from a source other than the Johannine tradition, but they certainly cohere with what we find in John, and the most plausible critical inference is that some form of the Johannine tradition played a role in Luke’s additions to and departures from Mark. (1) Note the Johannine inclusion of material and detail: the “right” ear of the servant was severed (John 18:10; Luke 22:50); Satan enters Judas (John 13:27; Luke 22:3); the tomb is one in which no one had ever been laid (John 19:41; Luke 23:53); Peter arrives at the tomb and sees the linen cloths lying there (John 20:5; Luke 24:12). (2) Note the presence of Johannine events and persons by Luke: Jesus travels through Samaria in ministry as well as Galilee (John 4:4-42; Luke 17:11); sisters Mary and Martha are introduced, having similar roles (John 11:1-45; 12:1-11; Luke 10:38-42); a living dead man named Lazarus is added to Luke’s narrative in parabolic form (John 11:1-12:17; Luke 16:19-31); a great catch of fish is introduced within a calling narrative (John 21:114; Luke 5:1-11). (3) Luke departs from Mark’s presentations in ways cohering with John’s: Luke omits Mark’s second feeding and relocates the confession of Peter after the feeding of the 5,000, not the 4,000 (John 6:68-69; Luke 9:20); Peter’s confession in Luke, “the Christ of God,” conflates “the Christ” in Mark with “the Holy One of God” in John (Mark 8:29 and John 6:69; Luke 9:20); Luke changes the head anointing to a foot anointing, coinciding with John against Mark (Mark 14:1-11 and John 12:1-8; Luke 7:36-50); Luke moves the servanthood motif to the last supper, where it is in John (John 13:1-17; Luke 22:24-30). (4) Luke adds Johannine themes to Jesus’ teaching—themes
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not found in Mark: the Holy Spirit will teach believers what they need to know and say (John 14:26 Luke 12:12); women make confessions in John and Luke (John 11: 27; Luke 11:27); Samaritans are reported as receiving Jesus’ ministry with gratitude (John 4:39-42; Luke 17:16; Acts 8:7-8, 13-17); Jesus refers to “my Kingdom” only in John and Luke (John 18:36; Luke 22:30). These and over fifty other instances where Luke departs from Mark and coincides with John could simply be coincidences. If, however, they reflect intertraditional contact, the strongest inference is that Luke demonstrates a good deal of familiarity with the Johannine story of Jesus in his incorporation of Mark, incomplete though that knowledge appears to have been.75 The Q tradition is more problematic, though, for several reasons. As the Q document or tradition itself is a hypothetical reality, so its character and existence are themselves in question. It could be, for instance, that the non-Markan double tradition reflects Luke’s use of Matthew as well as Mark, suggesting Luke’s later finalization. That, of course would also augur for Luke’s familiarity with the Johannine tradition, rather than John’s familiarity with Luke. Further, it is nearly impossible to know which direction influence may have traveled, and if contact happened during the oral stages of these traditions, it could be that cross-influence, or “interfluence,” may characterize the reality more effectively than a simplistic source-critical view. Whatever the case, several interesting features cohere between the triple tradition without Mark. (1) Similar narrative elements include: the one coming after John will baptize with the Holy Spirit (Matt 3:11; Luke 3:16; John 1:26); John’s baptisms are across the Jordan (Matt 3:13; Luke 3:3; John 1:28; 10:40); the healing in Capernaum is from afar (Matt 5:5-13; Luke 7:1-10; John 4:46-54); the Jerusalem leaders seek to destroy Jesus (Matt 11:18-19; Luke 19:47; 5:18; John 7:25, 30; 8:59; 10:31; 11:53). (2) Jesus teaches about discipleship: the harvest is plentiful, and the laborers are few (Matt 9:37-38; Luke 10:2; John 4:35); to those who ask and it shall be given (Matt 7:7-11; Luke 11:9-13; John 14:13-14; 15:7; 16:24); a servant/disciple is not above one’s master (Matt 10:24-25; Luke 6:40; John 13:16; 15:20). (3) Echoes of themes abound: Abraham is referenced as father (Matt 3:9; Luke 3:8; John 8:39); entering through the narrow gate is key (Matt 7:13-14; Luke 13:23-24; John 10:7); the shepherd cares for the sheep (Matt 18:10-14; Luke 15:37; John 10:1-18); the prayer of Jesus is momentous (Matt 6:9-13; Luke 11:1-4; John 17:1-17). (4) The Father-Son relationship is key: the Father and the Son’s mutuality of knowing is pivotal (Matt 11:27; Luke 10:22; John 3:35; 7:28-29; 10:14-15; 13:3-4; 17:13, 22-25); the one receiving/hearing Jesus receives/hears the one who sent him (Matt 10:40; Luke 10:16; John 13:20; 12:44-45; 5:23). Most telling here is that the Johannine Father-Son relationship apparently has been embraced by Q, raising the question as to whether either John’s tradition or a parallel memory of Jesus underlay the double tradition referred to as Q. Or, it could have gone back to Jesus, who legitimated his words and works on the basis of a divine commission—described in a variety of ways among the gospel traditions.
John’s dialectical engagement of Matthean influence While the first edition of John appears to have built around Mark, earlier stages of engagement—perhaps during the oral stages of the pre-Markan and early Johannine
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traditions—appear also to have had some contact. Raymond Brown referred to the engagement of preachers traveling in ministry appearing to underlie some of these contacts as cross-influence (cf. Peter and John traveling together in ministry through Samaria in Acts 8, for instance); I call it “interfluence.” It also appears that some “interfluentiality” might also have been operative during later phases of the Johannine tradition’s development in relation to the Matthean tradition. Again, the lack of explicit textual contacts makes it unlikely that John is depending on Matthew or that Matthew is depending on John in a textual-literary way, but there does appear to be some engagement between these two traditions, plausibly in the later stages of their development. In terms of Matthean engagement of the Johannine narrative or themes, Matthew shows knowledge of the healings of the blind and the lame in Jerusalem’s Temple district, reported only in John 5 and 9 (Matt 21:14). Matthew also locates the healing from afar in Capernaum before the healing of Simon Peter’s mother-in-law, perhaps reflecting familiarity with the Johannine claims regarding the first and second signs of Jesus, as though they preceded the healing of Peter’s mother-in-law as reported in Mark 1. Matthew’s presentation of Christ being present in the midst of those who gather in his name (Matt 18:18-20) echoes the fuller Johannine presentation of Christ’s ongoing presence at work through the Holy Spirit in the gathered Community of his friends (John 14-16). Matthew also reinforces the theme of Jesus’ fulfilling the Prophet predicted by Moses in Deuteronomy (Matt 21:11), as John’s Jesus declares that Moses wrote of him (John 4:46), and there are twenty-four parallels between Deut 18:15-22 and the Father-Son relationship in John. Matthew’s and John’s presentations of Jesus as the Jewish Messiah also reinforce each other in the mission to Jewish and Gentile audiences, so some of these similarities could reflect indirect contacts from a shared ethos of Christian identity and outreach rather than direct intertraditional engagement. John’s engagement with the Matthean tradition reflects also a bit of familiarity with the Matthean text or awareness of how some of its teachings on ecclesiology were being used by contemporaries in the late first century situation. In particular, it seems likely that the primacy-loving Diotrephes of 3 John was applying the structure-imbuing thrust of Matt 16:17-19 and the accountability-managing themes of Matt 18:15-17 in ways strident. This is not a matter of dependence, though; it more closely resembles a dialectical and corrective engagement by the Johannine leadership. On several fronts, the Johannine presentation of Jesus offers an alternative to the presentation of Jesus’ will for the church in Matt 16:17-19. Confessions in John are made by women, not by members of the Twelve (Nathanael and Martha); blessedness follows from obeying Jesus and believing without having seen, not from making the correct confession; flesh and blood must be ingested by Jesus’ followers: an invitation to martyr-faithfulness; images for the church are more fluid and dynamic: sheep and shepherd, vine and branches; the apostolic commission extends to a multiplicity of followers, not a Petrine constriction; and, Peter affirms Jesus’ authority rather than having his authority (and that of those who follow in his wake) affirmed by Jesus. Put sharply, Peter returns the keys of the Kingdom to Jesus, according to John 6:68-69, where they belonged all along. In these ways, John’s presentation of Jesus and his will for the church puts forward a more primitive ecclesial vision of leadership and organization, despite being finalized last among the Gospels.76
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An inclusive quest for Jesus requires the use of John In the light of these features, and if all worthy sources are to be included in the historical quest of Jesus, it is critically irresponsible that the one Gospel claiming first-hand memory of Jesus should be programmatically omitted from the enterprise. After all, if Luke made use of John in his understanding of Jesus, why shouldn’t modern scholars? John indeed has highly theological material in it, but it also has more mundane and grounded material than all the other Gospels put together. The Johannine Prologue and some of its high-Christological rhetorical features must be distinguished from more historically grounded material within the narrative, but even the Prologue asserts the flesh-becoming itinerary of Christ, the Word (with Bultmann, John 1:14). And, it must be remembered that John’s story of Jesus is rendered through the paraphrased and personally adapted teaching of the Beloved Disciple, as all remembered narrations do, so some of that material must be assessed in cognitive-critical and contextual perspective. Thus, in comparing John’s story of Jesus with the Synoptic traditions, individually and collectively, particular judgments of historicity are facilitated. Agreeing that John should be used within Jesus Research, however, is only part of the battle; the real test follows with seeking to discern how to make use of John within Jesus Research, alongside the other gospel traditions and available resources.
Making use of John in the critical quest for Jesus: A call for second criticality If John is to be used within the historical quest of Jesus of Nazareth, how ought scholars proceed within that quest? John ought to be seen as an independent Jesus tradition, which, though theologically developed, nonetheless has its own story to tell in terms of historical memory and witness. That tradition, however, developed within particular contexts, and the Evangelist’s way of telling the story of Jesus within that setting played a formative role in that process. In making use of John within a new quest for Jesus, however, new criteria for determining historicity must be established, allowing more textured perspectives on Jesus in bi-optic perspective. If all sources are to be used, John must be included; but if John is to be included, finding ways to do so effectively is required. In negotiating tradition and criticism, it is not only second naïveté that is welcomed, but second criticality is required. After all, there is considerable disagreement among critical analysts, and simply to raise a question about a view (traditional or otherwise) is not to overturn it. Thus, criticism must be challenged critically as well as tradition.77
John as an alternative memory of Jesus and his mission among the Gospels While the Gospel of John is different from the other canonical Gospels, it deserves to be considered alongside them. Mistaken, however, is the view that John was initially developed with all three Synoptics in view, when knowledge along those lines did
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not become available for several decades—perhaps even a decade or more after the completion of John’s narrative. Most likely, though, is that John’s narrator had the Gospel of Mark in view, although probably not in written form. That being the case, John’s early stages as a written tradition appears to have had Mark in mind, written as an alternative rendering of Jesus’ ministry, thus augmenting, complementing, and correcting Mark in modest ways. John’s first edition thus includes five signs of Jesus— showing him to be the Jewish Messiah, cohering with five books of Moses—a Jewishrhetorical design replicated also in Matthew’s five discourses of Jesus. The first two signs in John augment Mark’s rendering of Jesus’ ministry chronologically; the three Judean signs of Jesus in John augment Mark geographically. Put otherwise, Matthew and Luke built upon Mark; John built around Mark. John’s later material, including the signs in John 6 and other content, harmonizes John with the other Gospels. Therefore, John is different from and similar to the Synoptics on purpose, arguably with some degree of knowing intentionality.
John’s presentation of Jesus in cognitive-critical perspective If John and Mark are considered foundational for the two primary trajectories remembering Jesus and his ministry, a key factor in their similarities and differences is the likelihood that at least two followers of Jesus had distinctive ways of telling stories of Jesus and his ministry.78 While it cannot be known who these particular followers of Jesus were, and several tradents may have been involved in the developing and furthering of these traditions, an underdeveloped feature of gospel traditions is the link between the ministries of the preachers and teachers and ways they presented the ministry of Jesus. From a cognitive-critical perspective, distinctive presentations of Jesus’ teachings and works likely cohered with the interests and capacities of those who furthered them, and this will have affected their distinctive renderings of Jesus’ words and works. For instance, while all nine of the Johannine themes and images represented in John’s distinctive I-am sayings are also found in the Synoptics, the Fourth Evangelist likely adapted them in Christocentric ways.79 It could also be that differing first impressions of Jesus and his ministry facilitated these associative links. While the Markan Jesus refers to the burning bush (Mark 12:26), and Jesus makes absolute I-am sayings in Mark as well as John (Mark 6:50; John 6:20), at least one of the disciples might have associated an identification saying (egō eimi = It is I) with a theophanic text (egō eimi = I am). If the latter association, typified in the Johannine seacrossing scenario, reflects the experience and perspective of the Johannine trident, it is easy to understand how Ricoeur’s surplus of meaning might have led to the Johannine rendering of Jesus and his ministry in exalted Christological ways. Likewise, while Jesus may indeed have linked faith to the seeing of miracles, the Synoptic preachers likely furthered the implication to explain the relative dearth of miracles in later experience: if miracles do not happen it is not God’s fault; it is the fault of humans and their lack of faith. And, if the role of Peter in the Acts of the Apostles is any indicator of the sorts of power-ministries some apostles are remembered as having exercised, one can imagine such a legacy continuing in the presentation of Jesus and his ministry by them and their followers. Conversely, the relative dearth
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of miracles in early Christian experience is alleviated by the Johannine Evangelist’s pointing to the existential meaning of Jesus’ signs, over and against their wondrous value. Therefore, blessed are those who have not seen, and yet believe (John 20:29). When comparing Petrine (pre-Markan) and Johannine traditions, individuated impressions of Jesus’ ministry likely extended from the days of the apostles to the eras following their departures and deaths. And, a good deal of these individuated perspectives can be seen in the similarities and differences between John and Mark in particular—likely resulting from a set of cognitive-critical factors, a subject requiring further critical inquiry.
The developing memory of Jesus and his mission within the Johannine situation The Johannine memory of Jesus developed in its own individuated ways quite independent of the Synoptic traditions, although there may have been several forms and levels of intertraditional dialogue along the way. In the first phase of the Johannine situation, in Palestine before the Evangelist moved to a diaspora setting around 70 CE, two sets of socioreligious dialogues are apparent. The first involved tensions between Jewish leaders in Jerusalem and Judea and followers of the Galilean prophet, Jesus. These north-south tensions are reflected in the presentation of the Ioudaioi as loving the praise of humans rather than the glory of God, challenging Jesus’ authority, and holding to Temple and synagogue codes of religious operation (Sabbath laws, religious festivals, etc.). These tensions reflect memory of Jesus’ ambivalent reception in Jerusalem as well as the same among his followers. The second set of dialogues during this phase (30–70 CE) reflects tensions between followers of Jesus and followers of John the Baptist. Here John plays the role of the key witness to Jesus’ being the Messiah, not he himself. Therefore, John’s presentation of the Jerusalem-based leaders’ opposing Jesus and the Baptist’s affirming Jesus connects Jesus and his ministry with the needs of the emerging Johannine situation. In that sense, one level of history speaks to another in meaningful, supportive ways. The second phase of the Johannine situation (70–85 CE) follows a transition to a setting within the Gentile mission, and there is no better site to infer than the traditional setting of Ephesus and Asia Minor, for which there is ample second century attestation. In early Christian memory, Ephesus has no competitors as the developing setting of Johannine Christianity. Here again two dialectical engagements present themselves within the Johannine writings and related literature. First, ambivalent engagements with leaders of the local Jewish population are apparent. Here the authority of Moses and scripture is debated—perhaps even deuteronomic texts, in particular. Whereas the Son’s relation to the Father is challenged on the basis of the oneness of God in Deut 6, the authenticity of Jesus is defended by the Johannine leadership as fulfilling Deut 18: Moses wrote of Jesus; he is the prophet Moses predicted, confirmed by his word coming true. A second crisis during this period emerges with the ascendency of Domitian as emperor (81–96 CE), in that he required public respect for the empire in the form of emperor laud. Throughout the Roman Empire, but especially in Ephesus, in its competition with Pergamum for neokoros status, non-Jewish subjects were
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required to show their respect for the imperial presence by either confessing Caesar as lord, or offering incense to his image, or both. Hence, the confession of Thomas, “My Lord and my God!” in John 20:28 would have been a pointed challenge to the Roman presence in the second and third phases of the Johannine situation. It was during this phase that the Johannine narrative was drawn together as an apologetic, both to show that Jesus was indeed the Jewish Messiah (the five signs of Jesus cohere with the five books of Moses), and also to show he was to be followed and served as Lord, even amid hostilities in the world. The third phase of the Johannine situation (85–100 CE) shows evidence of two further crises, although previous dialectical tensions continued. The first involved the docetizing response of Gentile believers in Jesus to growing pressures to stay engaged with culture and society in support of local customs and festivals accentuated by the imperial presence. As a means of legitimating assimilation with culture, non-Jewish believers in Jesus might have argued that because he was divine he did not suffer; therefore, his followers need not be expected to do the same. In corrective response to creeping Docetism, the Johannine Evangelist reminds later audiences of Jesus’ earlier teachings on the way of the cross. Put in different ways, but still cohering with the thrust of this theme in Mark 10:38-39 and elsewhere, Jesus’ followers are called upon to be willing to ingest the flesh and blood of Jesus; the bread he offers is his flesh, given for the life of the world. That nourishment emboldens followers in later generations to count the cost and to commit themselves to martyr-willingness in the face of emerging challenges and hostilities. Therefore, later additions to the narrative remind audiences that physical water and blood came forth from the side of Jesus, and that the Word became flesh, in whose presence the glory of God is paradoxically revealed. The second crisis during this phase reflects dialectical engagements with Christian church leaders in the area. If the likes of Diotrephes, “who loves primacy” in 3 John 9-10, have been excluding Johannine ministers from their churches in the interest of asserting a hierarchical (and Petrine) approach to order and governance, this accounts for the later emphasis in the Johannine narrative (especially in chs. 6, 15–17, and 21) upon a Spirit-based approach to Christ’s leadership within the gathered Community of believers. Therefore, while John is likely the last of the four canonical Gospels to have been finalized, its egalitarian and familial ecclesiology reflects a more primitive understanding of church governance—argued in the name of a historical memory of the charismatic Prophet from Galilee within a later, cosmopolitan setting. The importance of considering the history of the Johannine situation in longitudinal perspective is that it helps one appreciate the historical contexts within which John’s historical memory of Jesus was developing and delivered. Within such a setting, exorcisms and leper-healings might not have been as helpful in telling the story of Jesus and his ministry. Likewise, Kingdom sayings emerging within Synoptic memories of Jesus’ teachings might not have been as potent in their reach as connecting later audiences existentially with ways that Jesus fulfills the essence of life-producing bread and water, darkness-dispelling light, death-defying life, and the living shepherd and vine as the way forward for all seekers of truth in a Hellenistic setting. One can even discern two distinctive purposes between the first edition of John’s narrative and its final compilation following the death of the Beloved Disciple. The first edition leads
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people to believe that Jesus is the Jewish Messiah—an apologetic thrust; the later material calls for followers of Jesus to abide and remain in him and his Community—a pastoral thrust. Thus, even what it means to “believe” in Jesus shows some development between the earlier and later stages of John’s story of Jesus. In both of these concerns, the Johannine memory of Jesus of Nazareth is crafted in such ways as to address the needs of emerging situations as understood by the Johannine narrator and editor— over and against other Gospel narratives—as an alternative (and needed) history of Jesus. And, that’s what all historiography does. It connects memories of the past with the needs of the present; there is no such thing as non-rhetorical historiography.
Revised criteria for determining Gospel historicity In the task of including John’s story of Jesus in Jesus Research, new criteria for determining historicity must be introduced. Multiple attestation, dissimilarity, rationalistic naturalism, and circular coherence have functioned to marginalize the Johannine witness as having any historical value at all, but if all worthy sources are to be included, new criteria must be devised. These criteria should allow for including worthy Johannine and Synoptic material, while also helping the historian distinguish between earlier and later understandings of the past. It also is important to make judgments in terms of gradations of certainty, not simply to force an either-or judgment, when a more nuanced perspective is required. Therefore, in contrast to the either-or approach of the Jesus Seminar, designed to throw judgments into sharp relief at times for effect, a more measured approach would allow a middle ground (sometimes issues are simply “possible”—not entirely problematic or plausible), still averting claims to certainty on either end of the spectrum. Therefore, gradations of certainty, and a new set of criteria for determining gospel historicity include the following:80 Gradations of certainty (%) Certainly not Unlikely Questionable Possible Plausible Likely Certain
1–14 15–29 30–44 45–54 55–69 70–84 85–99
The importance of using a more nuanced approach to measuring gradations of certainty in assessing the likelihood of particular features is that it opens up the middle in terms of what might be “possible” and “plausible,” as well as what might be “possible” though “questionable.” It also distinguishes “certainly not” from “unlikely” and “likely” from “certainly.” Most errors among analysts tend to be factors of moving to the extremes as a result of not affirming something closer to the middle: “plausible” is wrongly taken to imply “certain,” and “questionable” is wrongly taken to imply “certainly not.” And, explaining why a judgment fits within any of the gradations along the continuum reduces equivocation and clarifies the basis upon which one’s judgments can be
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evaluated critically by others. Bases for those judgments, however, must be adequate for the task, and following are a more fitting set of criteria for determining gospel historicity—if all worthy sources are to be consulted—including the Gospel of John. New Criteria for Determining Historicity: ●
●
●
Corroborative Impression versus Multiple Attestation. A huge problem with the criterion of multiple attestation is that by definition it excludes everything that might be added to Mark’s account of Jesus’ ministry by other gospel traditions and writers. Further, if Mark was used by Matthew and Luke, then triple-tradition material may simply denote their uses of Mark rather than reflecting independent attestations of a historical memory or event. And, if anything within John—or for that matter, in Matthew or Luke—is intended to augment or correct Mark, it is automatically excluded from consideration, even if the basis for such a judgment is flawed. A more adequate approach looks for corroborative sets of impressions, wherein paraphrases, alternative ways of putting something, or distinctive renderings of a similar feature inform a fuller understanding of the ministry of Jesus. Such an approach would thus include the Johannine witness rather than excluding it programmatically. Primitivity versus Dissimiliarity or Embarrassment. While the criteria of dissimilarity and embarrassment might keep one from mistaking later Christian views for earlier ones going back to Jesus, they also tend to distort the historiographic process itself. What if apostolic Christians and their successors actually did get something right in their memories of Jesus? Or, what if Jesus of Nazareth actually did teach conventional Jewish views during his ministry? The criterion of dissimilarity would thereby exclude such features from historical consideration, allowing only the odd or embarrassing features to be built upon. Even if such data is unlikely to be concocted, to exclude other material from the database of material creates an odd assortment of portraiture material, which if used, is likely to create a distorted image of Jesus. And, while embarrassing features might be less likely to have been concocted, does a collage of unseemliness really represent a subject better than an assortment of honorable and less honorable features? A more adequate way forward is to identify primitive material, seeking to distinguish it from its more developed counterparts. This may include Palestine-familiarity features, Aramaic and Hebraic terms, primitive institutional developments, and other undeveloped material less influenced by the later mission to the Gentiles. Critical Realism versus Dogmatic Naturalism or Supranaturalism. Just as dogmatic supranaturalism is an affront to historical inquiry, so is dogmatic naturalism— especially when it functions to exclude anything that might approximate the wondrous in gospel narratives. John’s Prologue was probably added to a later or final edition of the Gospel, so its cosmic perspective should not eclipse or distort the more conventional features of John’s narrative, just as the birth narratives of Matthew and Luke should not eclipse their more mundane features. Rather, political realism, religious anthropology, and social-science analyses should provide helpful lenses for understanding the perception of Jesus as a Galilean
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prophetic figure in all four Gospel traditions. After all, John’s narrative begins in ways similar to Mark’s, launched by the association of Jesus with John the Baptist, and it concludes with his arrest, trials, and death in Jerusalem at the hand of the Romans. Therefore, historical and critical realism acknowledges the historical problem of wondrous claims, but it also considers cognitive, religious, political, and societal aspects of realism that might account for such impressions. Open Coherence versus Closed Portraiture. Two central flaws in coherence-oriented criteria for determining historicity in the quest for Jesus include the circularity of the approach and the closed character of its portraiture. On one hand, the Gospels form the primary database for determining a coherent impression of Jesus of Nazareth; on the other, those same Gospels are evaluated on the basis of information contained within them. Further, scholars too easily build a view of what cannot represent a feature of Jesus’ ministry based upon the narrowing down of what he must have done and said.
What results from a more nuanced approach to gospel historicity is that degrees of plausibility can be inferred and assessed with greater acuity and discernment. Most significant for historical-Jesus studies is the impression that David Strauss faced when he wrote his third edition of the Das Leben Jesu. Here Strauss came to doubt his doubts as to John’s ahistoricity, although he later changed his mind and reverted to his absolutist skeptical stance in his subsequent editions—a factor in Baur’s insistence on his larger revisionist program. However, if John is likewise seen today as an autonomous Jesus tradition developing alongside the other accounts but not dependent on them, it comes to serve as an independent attestation of Jesus and his ministry as well as something of a dialogical engagement of the Mark-based accounts. That being the case, some features of Jesus’ ministry are most robustly represented in the Synoptics, while the Johannine presentation of Jesus and his work might be historically preferable in other ways. Further, in a number of cases John and the Synoptics cohere in distinctively attested ways, and these corroborative accounts serve as independent attestations of Jesus and his ministry, thus bolstering a more textured set of understandings than simply drawing upon the Synoptics alone. Put otherwise, the Synoptic witness to Jesus is corroborated independently by a contemporary source, not extra-canonically but intra-canonically: the Gospel of John. Given that the four canonical Gospels were not grouped together until the mid-to-late second century CE, an independent source of verification need not be extracanonical.
What is meant by “history?” A dialogical approach An interesting fact is that gospel historiography in the modern era has been subjected to standards of assessment that are by no means applied to any other subject in ancient history. This is understandable, as their subject, Jesus, is arguably the most important single figure in Western history—perhaps in world history. The stakes indeed are high. On the other hand, because of the tendency for advocates and adversaries to claim too much and too little, both fideism and skepticism abound. A more realism-friendly approach to gospel historicity, however, deserves to make use of memory theory,
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perspective theory, social science analysis, cognitive-critical studies, and rhetorical analysis as interdisciplinary means of appreciating the overall perspective of the Gospels in the light of critical realism. Given that several sorts of dialogues are at work in even the canonical Gospels’ presentations of Jesus, these dialectical realities require consideration in determining the character of their historicity, or the lack thereof. First, multiple impressions of Jesus and his ministry surfaced among his followers and non-followers, evoking dialogues between earlier and later experiences and perspectives. Second, those impressions developed in the ministries of Jesus’ followers and their followers, addressing dialogically the needs of emerging audiences. How could it be otherwise? Third, as units of material became transmitted in written forms, or purveyed by others, stories of Jesus at times engaged and co-opted rhetorical tropes as a means of furthering the appeal of the Jesus narratives—including appeals to Jewish Scripture and employments of religious conventions within contemporary societies. Fourth, as units were gathered into overall gospel narratives, oral and written traditions were ordered and crafted into gospel forms, connecting earlier reports of Jesus and his ministry with the needs of later audiences. Fifth, as gospel traditions engaged each other, literary assimilation was made of earlier traditions (especially Mark for use by Matthew and Luke; there is no evidence of non-Johannine traditions underlying John) in the construction of later renderings of Jesus’ ministry. Sixth, in addressing needs of later audiences, dialogues within traditions and between them, albeit in distinctive ways, led to the productions of the Gospels following Mark. Therefore, the Gospels and Jesus must be analyzed in bi-optic perspective, as such an approach takes into consideration the varying levels and forms of dialogue germane to the canonical renderings of their subject and his work. These features are elemental to the critical analysis of gospel traditions in assessing their origins, character, and developments. By focusing on corroborative impression, perspectives emerging from similar presentations of Jesus, even if not identical or in multiple sources, can still provide plausible and likely understandings of what Jesus said and did. By focusing on primitivity, earlier impressions of Jesus can be established as plausible bases upon which to construct views that include later developments while also noting their departures from earlier memories. By focusing on critical realism, exaggerated claims of supernaturalism can be distanced from political, religious, sociological, economic, and psychological realities serving to contextualize reports and claims jarring against reasoned sensibilities. By focusing on open coherence, varying impressions of Jesus can be drawn together into a synthesized whole rather than creating distorted portraitures of Jesus based on incorporating only parsimonious certainties at the expense of a wealth of impressions reflecting plausible information about Jesus of Nazareth. These more nuanced and measured approaches might run the risk of making some errors, far greater critical errors have accompanied the one-sided positivism of modernistic Jesus studies at the expense of more critically adequate quests for the Jesus of history.81 The robust promise of the critical enterprise is that it invites critical engagement and analysis in seeking to devise and employ the best tools possible in service to the scientific inquiry being conducted.
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Conclusion: The Gospels and Jesus in bi-optic perspective In establishing a genuinely adequate “quest for Jesus,” ways must be found to include the Johannine witness, alongside other traditions, although critically so. If second and third century resources are going to be used in the interest of an inclusive and comprehensive approach, and if the venture is to be respectable critically, ways of accessing Jesus-tradition material in the one Gospel claiming first-hand memory of Jesus and his ministry, albeit theologically developed, must be found. And yet, the way is fraught with landmines, detours, and potholes, requiring an overall theory addressing the multiplicity of the Johannine riddles.82 Given that Mark and John may be seen as the Bi-Optic Gospels, representing two individuated perspectives on Jesus from the earliest stages of their traditions through the latest stages, approaching Jesus in bi-optic perspective seems the best approach, critically. As a set of ways forward, the following questions seem worthy of consideration, for making advances in terms of second criticality. (1) Beginning with Mark’s narrative and the plausibly inferred traditions underlying it, what can be known of Jesus from this first narrative rendering of Jesus and his mission, followed by the contributions of Matthew and Luke? (2) Assuming the author of John’s initial narrative rendering of Jesus and his ministry has at least some familiarity with Mark, how might it represent John’s following, augmenting, and perhaps correcting Mark? (3) Assuming some sort of dialectical engagement between the Johannine and Synoptic traditions, how might John have influenced or been engaged by other traditions, reflecting intertraditional dialogues regarding understandings and meanings of Jesus and his ministry? (4) How might John as an independent source of verification of and challenge to the Synoptics help critical scholars refine their understandings of Jesus and his ministry, providing a sense of corroborative impression in addition to John’s dialectical engagement of other traditions? (5) How might similar-though-different presentations of Jesus among the gospel traditions provide a fuller and more textured sense of historical memory, availing a greater sense of critical realism regarding political, religious, economic, sociological, and psychological dynamics related to the historic ministry of Jesus? (6) Using John and other Jesus-tradition witnesses as resources, how might a fuller understanding of Jesus and his ministry be thus garnered by approaching Jesus and the Gospels in bi-optic perspective, based on a larger set of theories related to the dialogical autonomy of the Fourth Gospel? (7) In expanding the analysis of worthy Jesus-tradition material beyond the canonical Gospels, how does John’s witness to Jesus also extend to contributions of the Pauline, Petrine, and general letters of the New Testament, as well as noncanonical sources, including the Gospels of Thomas, Philip, and Truth, and also the Muratorian Fragment, Tatian’s Diatesseron, and the Shepherd of Hermas? (8) In making use of the Gospel of John in the quest for Jesus, how might the most important contributions of the nineteenth century quest for Jesus help us reengage the works of Schleiermacher, Neander, Baur, Strauss, and others—accounting for their insights in the light of more adequate views of historicity? (9) In finding a place for the Gospel of John within the New and Renewed Quests for Jesus and the Renewed Look at the Fourth Gospel, how might the Judaism of Jesus, and a focus on
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Johannine primitivity provide a source of independent verification and falsification in analyzing the Synoptic witness to Jesus and his ministry? (10) By including the Gospel of John within the social- and cognitive-scientific studies of the Third Quest for Jesus, how might John’s contribution to socioreligious, political, economic, and psychological understandings of Jesus and his ministry facilitate discernment of originative and developing memories of Jesus among all gospel traditions—including John? Given that lopsided positivism of verification has contributed to false negatives and distorted positives in the modern quests for the Jesus of history, the first three quests for Jesus have produced incomplete and inadequate understandings of Jesus. As a result of the fact that portrayals of Jesus have built upon partial representations of reconstructed information about Jesus, modern Jesus studies have produced skewed portraitures of Jesus and his ministry. Given the critical inadequacies inherent to the dehistoricization of John and the de-Johannification of Jesus, the critical way forward is clear. Albeit fraught with new challenges and complexities, the Gospel of John can no longer be excluded from historical-Jesus Research if all worthy sources are to be utilized. The question, of course, is how to do so, and that will require addressing the Johannine riddles, developing an understanding of John’s character and origin, devising adequate criteria for determining Johannine and Synoptic historicity, coming to understand the Gospels and Jesus in bi-optic perspective, and also finding more adequate ways of envisioning historical memory itself as a correction to its modernistic distortions. Within the new millennium this work is already begun, and thus there is no need to call for a Fourth Quest for Jesus. Given the advancements of the John, Jesus, and History Project, the Princeton-Prague Symposia, the Enoch Seminar,83 and the new critical work of New Testament scholars internationally, such an enterprise is already well underway.
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Reflections on Matthew, John, and Jesus Dale C. Allison Jr.
A personal journey I read C. H. Dodd’s Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel at a very young age, before I went off to graduate school.1 The book worked its magic on me. I found it both fascinating and convincing. Of course, back then I was too young to engage Dodd critically and to find flaws, so it is no surprise that I found him persuasive at every turn. My studies during graduate school changed nothing, at least with respect to this subject. Two of my teachers were W. D. Davies and D. Moody Smith. The latter was more than inclined to find independent traditions throughout the Fourth Gospel, and the former was Dodd’s student and good friend, and he was loyal to him when it came to the Fourth Gospel. Unsurprisingly, I ended up writing my dissertation in the robust conviction that John was an autonomous source of traditions about Jesus. Soon after finishing my dissertation, I began to work on a commentary on Matthew. This involved, among other things, studying not only all the parallels in Mark and Luke but also all related passages in John. I found, at that time, nothing in Matthew’s first nine chapters to challenge my faith in John’s independence from the Synoptics. It was different when I reached chapter 10. In Matt 10:24-25, Jesus says, “A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master; it is enough for the disciple to be like his teacher, and the servant like his master. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household.” The problem this caused for me becomes apparent when one sets this text beside its counterparts in Luke and John.
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Matt 10:24-25
Luke 6:40
John 13:16
John 15:20
A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his lord; it is enough for the disciple to be like his teacher, and the servant like his lord. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household.
A disciple is not above his teacher, but every one when he is fully taught will be like his teacher.
A servant is not greater than his lord; nor is he who is sent greater than he who sent him.
A servant is not greater than his lord. If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you.
Οὐκ ἔστιν μαθητὴς ὑπὲρ τὸν διδάσκαλον
οὐκ ἔστιν μαθητὴς οὐκ ἔστιν δοῦλος ὑπὲρ τὸν διδάσκ μείζων τοῦ αλον· κυρίου αὐτοῦ οὐδὲ δοῦλος ὑπὲρ τὸν οὐδὲ ἀπόστολος κύριον αὐτοῦ. κατηρτισμένος μείζων τοῦ ἀρκετὸν τῷ μαθητῇ ἵνα δὲ πᾶς ἔσται ὡς ὁ πέμψαντος γένηται ὡς ὁ διδάσκαλος διδάσκαλος αὐτοῦ. αὐτόν. αὐτοῦ καὶ ὁ δοῦλος ὡς ὁ κύριος αὐτοῦ. εἰ τὸν οἰκοδεσπότην Βεελζεβοὺλ ἐπεκάλεσαν, πόσῳ μᾶλλον τοὺς οἰκιακοὺς αὐτοῦ.
οὐκ ἔστιν δοῦλος μείζων τοῦ κυρίου αὐτοῦ. εἰ ἐμὲ ἐδίωξαν, καὶ ὑμᾶς διώξουσιν.
Over against Luke, the lines in Matthew and John share three features. (a) John 13:16 and Matt 10:24 speak of a servant (δοῦλος) and his master (κύριον). (b) John 13:16 (“a servant is not greater than his master; nor is he who is sent greater than he who sent him”) and Matt 10:24 (“A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master”) are double-membered statements with the same formal structure: “is not . . . nor” (οὐκ ἔστιν . . . οὐδέ). (c) The application in John 15:20 (“If they persecuted me, they will persecute you”) is similar to the application in Matt 10:25 (“If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household”). Both verses draw a parallel between opposition to Jesus and opposition to his followers. The problem for me was obvious. Matt 10:24-25 and Luke 6:40 are variants of the same saying (one which many have assigned to the lost sayings source, Q),2 but the resemblances just noted are confined to John and Matthew. So if, as I remarked in a footnote, the relevant material in Matthew is redactional—a possibility raised by the shorter Lukan parallel—it would be hard to deny a literary relationship between Matthew and John.3 My response in the commentary was simply to appeal to “Dodd’s careful investigation,” which, I affirmed, had shown that John 13:16 and 15:20 are not easily reckoned to be adaptations of Matt 10:24-25.4 I left it at that, without elaboration, and without signaling that my confidence in John’s independence had been a bit shaken.
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Matt 28:9-10
John 20:14-18
And behold, Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And approaching they took hold of his feet and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not fear. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee, and there they will see me.”
Saying this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why do you weep? Whom do you seek?” She, supposing him to be the gardener, said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabboni!” (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, “Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, and to my God and your God.’” Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord;” and she told them what he had said to her.
Καὶ ἰδοὺ Ἰησοῦς ὑπήντησεν αὐταῖς λέγων· χαίρετε. αἱ δὲ προσελθοῦσαι ἐκράτησαν αὐτοῦ τοὺς πόδας καὶ προσεκύνησαν αὐτῷ. τότε λέγει αὐταῖς ὁ Ἰησοῦς· μὴ φοβεῖσθε· ὑπάγετε ἀπα γγείλατε τοῖς ἀδελφοῖς μου ἵνα ἀπέλθωσιν εἰς τὴν Γαλιλαίαν, κἀκεῖ με ὄψονται.
Ταῦτα εἰποῦσα ἐστράφη εἰς τὰ ὀπίσω καὶ θεωρεῖ τὸν Ἰησοῦν ἑστῶτα καὶ οὐκ ᾔδει ὅτι Ἰησοῦς ἐστιν. λέγει αὐτῇ Ἰησοῦς· γύναι, τί κλαίεις; τίνα ζητεῖς; ἐκείνη δοκοῦσα ὅτι ὁ κηπουρός ἐστιν λέγει αὐτῷ· κύριε, εἰ σὺ ἐβάστασας αὐτόν, εἰπέ μοι ποῦ ἔθηκας αὐτόν, κἀγὼ αὐτὸν ἀρῶ. λέγει αὐτῇ Ἰησοῦς· Μαριάμ. στραφεῖσα ἐκείνη λέγει αὐτῷ Ἑβραϊστί· ραββουνι, ὃ λέγεται διδάσκαλε λέγει αὐτῇ Ἰησοῦς· μή μου ἅπτου, οὔπω γὰρ ἀναβέβηκα πρὸς τὸν πατέρα· πορεύου δὲ πρὸς τοὺς ἀδελφούς μου καὶ εἰπὲ αὐτοῖς· ἀναβαίνω πρὸς τὸν πατέρα μου καὶ πατέρα ὑμῶν καὶ θεόν μου καὶ θεὸν ὑμῶν. Ἔρχεται Μαριὰμ ἡ Μαγδαληνὴ ἀγγέλλουσα τοῖς μαθηταῖς ὅτι ἑώρακα τὸν κύριον, καὶ ταῦτα εἶπεν αὐτῇ.
Today, were I to revisit the issue, I would observe (a) that Dodd failed to address the common application, in John 15:20 and Matt 10:25, in opposition to Jesus’ followers; (b) that Matthew, given his love of parallelism and the word “Lord” (κύριος),5 might well be responsible for the expanded, double-membered statement in 10:24; (c) that, in the judgment of the members of the International Q Project Committee, the words and phrases in Matt 10:24-25 without counterpart in Luke 6:40 did not belong to Q and so are secondary,6 a verdict which, if accepted, would be consistent with Matthean authorship of some or all of those words and phrases;7 (d) that Matthew’s broken parallelism, with its transition from the dative to the nominative—“for the disciple” (τῷ μαθητῇ) to “the servant” (ὁ δοῦλος)—perhaps hints at a secondary expansion; (e) that John’s unexpected use of “apostle” (ἀπόστολος)—he uses the word only once— would be less surprising were he working with Matt 10, which features both “apostle” (ἀπόστολος: 10:2) and the cognate verb, “send” (ἀποστέλλω: 10:5, 16, 40); (f) that there are additional minor agreements between John 13:16 and 15:20 and their Johannine contexts and the context of Matt 10:24-25;8 and (g) that even if one doubts that the words and phrases found in Matthew but not Luke are Matthean redaction, that by itself does not exclude the hypothesis of John’s use of Matthew: John could still
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know the tradition via Matthew, whatever the pre-Matthean history. These six points are, I admit, not enough to demonstrate that Dodd was wrong.9 They do suffice, however, to show that he was not obviously right. When I moved on to the third volume and the commentary on Matt 19-28, I once again came up against a passage that gave me pause about Dodd’s major thesis. This was the brief story in 28:9-10, where Mary Magdalene and “the other Mary” (28:1), after having discovered the empty tomb and setting out to go on their way, encounter the risen Jesus. The account is quite similar to the narrative in John 20:14-18. Both of these reports (a) come after the discovery of the empty tomb and an angelophany (Matt 28:2-7; John 20:12-13); (b) record Jesus’ first resurrection appearance; (c) involve Mary Magdalene; (d) refer in one way or another to touching Jesus (Matthew: “took hold of his feet”; John: “do not hold me”); and (e) have Jesus commanding the woman or women to go and speak to “my brothers” (Matthew: ἀπαγγείλατε τοῖς ἀδελφοῖς μου; John: πρὸς τοὺς ἀδελφούς μου . . . ἀγγέλλουσα). We have here two versions of the same story. When seeking, in my commentary, to account for these parallels, I offered that, “in part because of the paucity of common words, it is best to regard Matt 28.9-20 (cf. Mark 16.9) as a shortened version of a story which has been taken up and expanded in John 20.11-18. . . . The differences can be explained in terms of Matthean and Johannine editing.”10 At the same time, I called attention to two articles of Frans Neirynck in which he argued that John here depends on Matthew.11 I did not agree, and even today John 20:11-18 is not, it seems to me, clearly dependent upon Matthew. Still, I remember pondering Neirynck’s articles for a long time and realizing, once more, that the case for John’s knowledge of Matthew was better than I had been wont to imagine. Despite knowing that Dodd’s position was under heavy assault,12 that is where matters stood for me until a few years ago, when I had occasion to go back and reread Dodd’s chapter on “Sayings Common to John and the Synoptics.”13 I quickly noticed something that I had not noticed before, and that I did not recall anyone else remarking upon. Of the fourteen sayings Dodd reviews, more than half have their sole or closest counterpart in the First Gospel. In addition, more than once Dodd concedes that the hypothesis of John’s acquaintance with Matthew presents itself for consideration. Beyond the parallel between Matt 10:24-25 and John 13:16, already introduced above, he discusses the following: (a) John 12:25: “He who loves his life loses it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” Relatives of this saying appear in Matt 16:25; Mark 8:35; Luke 9:24; and 17:33. The closest parallel, however, lies in Matt 10:39: “He who finds his life will lose it, and he who loses his life for my sake will find it.” In Greek: John 12:25: ὁ φιλῶν τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ ἀπολλύει αὐτήν καὶ ὁ μισῶν τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ . . . φυλάξει αὐτήν Matt 10:39: ὁ εὑρὼν τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ ἀπολέσει αὐτήν καὶ ὁ ἀπολέσας τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ . . . εὑρήσει αὐτήν
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Both of these have “the” (ὁ) + nominative singular masculine participle + “his life” (τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ) + “and” (καί) + form of the verb “to lose” (ἀπόλλυμι) + “his life” (τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ) + verb in the future active indicative third person singular + “it” (αὐτήν). John 12:25, Dodd observes, is “very close indeed” in “form” to Matt 10:39; and “in both, the simpler expressions, ὁ φιλῶν . . . ὁ μισῶν, ὁ εὑρών . . . ἀπολέσας, have a certain neatness, as compared with the cumbrous compound expressions in the others.”14 By contrast, the comparable lines in Mark and Luke feature repeated “whoever” (ὃς ἐάν) and open with two verbs: “wants . . . to save” (Mark 8:35; Luke 9:24), “seek . . . to preserve” (Luke 17:33). (b) John 13:20: “Truly, truly, I say to you, the one who receives any one whom I send receives me; and the one who receives me receives him who sent me.” This is strongly reminiscent of Matt 10:40: “The one who receives you receives me, and he who receives me receives him who sent me.” As with John 12:25 and Matt 10:39, the structural parallelism is remarkable. John 13:20 the one who receives any one whom I send (ὁ λαμβάνων ἄν τινα πέμψω) receives me (ἐμὲ λαμβάνει) the one who receives me (ὁ δὲ ἐμὲ λαμβάνων) receives the one who sent me (λαμβάνει τὸν πέμψαντά με) Matt 10:40
the one who receives you (ὁ δεχόμενος ὑμᾶς) receives me (ἐμὲ δέχεται) the one who receives me (ὁ ἐμὲ δεχόμενος) receives the one who sent me (δέχεται τὸν ἀποστείλαντά με)
Before going on to argue that John’s use of Matthew is less likely than his use of oral tradition, Dodd remarks: “Although the vocabulary differs, the sense is the same, and the structure of the two passages is closely similar. In each case we have two members in parallelism, each with protasis and apodosis.”15 (c) In John 20:23 we read: “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” Almost every commentator on this verse recalls Matt 18:18—“Truly, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven”—and its twin (addressed to Peter) in 16:19—“whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” The interpretation of these two Matthean texts is disputed, and the Evangelist may well have not taken himself to be writing about forgiveness, which is the topic in John. In any case, the formal parallelism between John and Matthew is, once again, close:16 John 20:23 if you forgive the sins of any (ἄν τινων ἀφῆτε τὰς ἁμαρτίας) they are forgiven (ἀφέωνται αὐτοῖς) if you retain (the sins) of any (ἄν τινων κρατῆτε) they are retained (κεκράτηνται)
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whatever you bind on earth (ὅσα ἐὰν δήσητε ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς) shall be bound in heaven (ἔσται δεδεμένα ἐν οὐρανῷ) and whatever you loose on earth (καὶ ὅσα ἐὰν λύσητε ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς) shall be loosed in heaven (ἔσται λελυμένα ἐν οὐρανῷ)
(d) Again in John 16:23-24 we read: “Truly, truly, I say to you, if you ask anything of the Father, he will give it to you in my name. Hitherto you have asked nothing in my name; ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full” (cf. 15:16). And again in John 14:13-14 we read: “Whatever you ask in my name, I will do it, that the Father may be glorified in the Son; if you ask anything in my name, I will do it.” Dodd compares these verses with Matt 21:22 (“whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith”) and notes: “In form the sentences are closely similar. In sense they are fundamentally identical.” He then, after reviewing the details, concedes: “The phenomena could, it seems, be explained on the hypothesis that John had Matthew before him.”17 (e) Likewise in John 3:3 we read: “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born anew, he cannot see the Kingdom of God.” We find a similar passage in 3:5: “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the Kingdom of God.” According to Dodd, “The saying [in John] is singularly close to Matt. xviii. 3 [‘Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the Kingdom of heaven’], even down to the introductory formula.”18 Putting them in Greek side by side establishes his point: John 3:3
ἀμὴν ἀμὴν λέγω σοι, ἐὰν μή τις γεννηθῇ ἄνωθεν οὐ δύναται ἰδεῖν τὴν βασιλείαν τοῦ θεοῦ
John 3:5
ἀμὴν ἀμὴν λέγω σοι, ἐὰν μή τις γεννηθῇ ἐξ ὕδατος καὶ πνεύματος οὐ δύναται εἰσελθεῖν εἰς τὴν βασιλείαν τοῦ θεοῦ
Matt 18:3 ἀμὴν λέγω ὑμῖν ἐὰν μὴ στραφῆτε καὶ γένησθε ὡς τὰ παιδία οὐ μὴ εἰσέλθητε εἰς τὴν βασιλείαν τῶν οὐρανῶν
Although insisting that “there are some features [in John 3:3, 5] which may give us pause,” Dodd admits one “explanation that lies to hand is that John has taken over the aphorism from Matthew and adapted it to his own purposes; and this might be the true explanation in this instance.”19 (f) John 10:15: “The Father knows me and I know the Father” (γινώσκει με ὁ πατὴρ κἀγὼ γινώσκω τὸν πατέρα). This famously has a parallel in Matt 11:27 (“no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son”: οὐδεὶς ἐπιγινώσκει τὸν υἱὸν εἰ μὴ ὁ πατήρ, οὐδὲ τὸν πατέρα τις ἐπιγινώσκει εἰ μὴ ὁ υἱός) and Luke 10:22 (“no one knows who the Son is except the Father, or who the Father is except the Son”: οὐδεὶς γινώσκει τίς ἐστιν ὁ υἱὸς εἰ μὴ ὁ πατήρ, καὶ τίς ἐστιν ὁ πατὴρ εἰ μὴ ὁ υἱός). John agrees with Luke in that both have the same verb, γινώσκω (“know”). Matthew has the closely related compound, ἐπιγινώσκω (“know”). Yet if Matthew were John’s source,
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the appearance of γινώσκω (“know”) would be expected, for while γινώσκω (“know”) occurs over fifty times in the Fourth Gospel, ἐπιγινώσκω (“know”) does not appear once. Of more significance then is the fact that the formal structure of John 10:15 is closer to Matthew than to Luke, as one can see at a glance. John 10:15
Matt 11:27
Luke 10:22
accusative “me” nominative “Father” nominative “I” accusative “Father”
accusative “Son” nominative “Father” nominative “Son” accusative “Father”
nominative “Son” nominative “Father” nominative “Son” nominative “Father”
(g) In John 17:2 we read: “You have given him power over all flesh” (ἔδωκας αὐτῷ ἐξουσίαν πάσης σαρκός). In Dodd’s view, the “affinities” of this with Matt 28:18 (“All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me”: ἐδόθη μοι πᾶσα ἐξουσία ἐν οὐρανῷ καὶ ἐπὶ [τῆς] γῆς) are “manifest,” and “in meaning the two passages are closely similar.”20 He supposes that both depend ultimately upon the vision of the one like a son of man in Dan 7:14 (LXX: “authority was given to him”: ἐδόθη αὐτῷ ἐξουσία). Space prohibits detailed examination of the texts just introduced. The main point here, however, is that the evidence for John’s dependence upon Matthew is more substantial than I once thought. Upon realizing this and taking into account my belief that Matthew was likely written a bit before the final edition of John, as well as the knowledge that the First Gospel was quite popular from an early time,21 I began to think about going over to the other side.22
Some suggestions Psychologists speak of confirmation bias. This is our human tendency to notice things that confirm what we already believe and to ignore or play down whatever does not harmonize with our preconceptions. In the words of T. C. Chamberlin, once we adopt a theory, there is an unconscious selection and magnifying of the phenomena that fall into harmony with the theory and support it, and an unconscious neglect of those that fail of coincidence. The mind lingers with pleasure upon the facts that fall happily into the embrace of the theory, and feels a natural coldness toward those that seem refractory. . . . There springs up, also, an unconscious pressing of the theory to make it fit the facts and the facts to make them fit the theory. . . . The search for facts, the observation of phenomena and their interpretation, are all dominated by affection for the favored theory until it appears to . . . its advocate to have been overwhelmingly established. The theory then rapidly rises to the ruling position, and investigation, observation, and interpretation are controlled and directed by it.23
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I have experienced this cognitive bias in my work with John and Matthew. It used to be that, when I ran across a parallel, I would not muse upon it at length but quickly pass on to something else. Since gaining some distance from Dodd, however, I have slowed down and begun to ask myself whether something I have noticed might be evidence for literary influence. Here are, in brief, five examples: (a) If one plugs τὸ φῶς τοῦ κόσμου into TLG, the first and earliest entry is Matt 5:14, where Jesus tells his disciples, “You are the light of the world” (ὑμεῖς ἐστε τὸ φῶς τοῦ κόσμου). The second and third entries are, respectively, John 8:12, where Jesus declares, “I am the light of the world” (ἐγώ εἰμι τὸ φῶς τοῦ κόσμου), and John 11:9-10, where he says, “If any one walks in the day, he does not stumble, because he sees the light of this world (τὸ φῶς τοῦ κόσμου). But if any one walks in the night, he stumbles, because the light is not in him.”24 All other examples of this precise phrase in Greek literature come from Christians familiar with both Matthew and John.25 In other words, τὸ φῶς τοῦ κόσμου has no attestation before the First and Fourth Gospels or apart from them. Does this suggest a literary link? One could propose that our two Evangelists independently took up a traditional Jewish expression. Rabbi Johanan ben Zakkai is “the light of the world” ( )נר עולםin ’Abot R. Nat. 25:5. Rabbis are “the light of the world” ( )אורו של עולםin b. B. Bat. 4a. Jerusalem is “the light of the world” ( )אורו של עולםin Gen. Rab. 49:5. It would not be incredible, then, that one Evangelist attached the expression to Jesus (John 8:12) while the other attached it to his disciples (Matt 5:13). One hesitates, however, to adopt this explanation, for Matthew and John have in common more than a phrase. They also exhibit a structural parallel. Both Matt 5:14 and John 8:12 share this form: personal pronoun + a present form of “be” (εἰμί) + “the light of the world” (τὸ φῶς τοῦ κόσμου): Matt 5:14 you are the light of the world (ὑμεῖς ἐστε τὸ φῶς τοῦ κόσμου) John 8:12 I am the light of the world (ἐγώ εἰμι τὸ φῶς τοῦ κόσμου)26 It is not surprising that commentators have sometimes brought these two lines together.27 Furthermore, it is scarcely difficult to envisage the Fourth Evangelist, because of his repeated characterization of Jesus as light,28 rewriting Matthew’s sentence so that its subject is not the disciples but Jesus.29 Indeed, one could view John 8:12 as a correction of Matt 5:14, akin to what the Evangelist did when, in contrast to episodes known from the Synoptics, he insisted that Jesus carried his own cross (John 19:17) and that he did not ask to be spared from the hour of his passion (John 12:27). All this matters because many modern scholars reckon the opening words of Matt 5:14a to be redactional.30 Their reasons, which are several, are compelling. (i) There is no Synoptic parallel. (ii) 5:14a (“You are the light of the world”) has been formulated to correspond to 5:13a (“You are the salt of the earth”: ὑμεῖς ἐστε τὸ ἅλας τῆς γῆς), which also has no Synoptic parallel. (iii) The two imperatives are part and parcel of Matthew’s careful architecture of the Sermon on the Mount. They characterize those who live according to the demands of chapters 5–7 and so serve
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as the general heading for everything that follows.31 (iv) Not only does Matthew like both “light” (φῶς: Matt: 7x [redactional in 17:2]; Mark: 1x; Luke: 7x) and “world” (κόσμος: Matt: 9x; Mark: 2x; Luke: 3x), but the second person plural, “you are” (ὑμεῖς ἐστε), carries forward the second person plural of vv. 10–11 (ἐστε . . . ὑμᾶς . . . ὑμῶν . . . ὑμῶν). (v) The best guess is that Matthew creatively manufactured 5:14a out of the traditional parable about lighting a lamp (cf. Luke 8:16; 11:33), just as he creatively manufactured 5:13a out of a traditional metaphor about salt (Mark 9:50; Luke 14:34-35). What follows? If Matt 15:13a is, as it seems to be, editorial, this ups the odds, given the striking resemblance with John 8:12, that the latter betrays knowledge of the former. (b) According to Mark 15:43, Joseph of Arimathea was “a respected member of the council, who was also himself looking for the Kingdom of God.” Luke 23:50 is similar: Joseph was “a member of the council, a good and righteous man.” Matt 27:57, however, characterizes Joseph as Jesus’ disciple: “He had become a disciple of Jesus” (αὐτὸς ἐμαθητεύθη τῷ Ἰησοῦ). This must be Matthew’s redactional work. Not only does the promotion to pre-Easter discipleship go beyond anything implicit in Mark—Matthew’s presumed source here—but the verb, μαθητεύω, is characteristic of the First Evangelist.32 In addition, turning Joseph into a disciple is consistent with Matthew’s desire to create and enhance the parallels between Jesus and John the Baptist, for the latter was buried by his disciples (14:12: “his disciples [οἱ μαθηταὶ αὐτοῦ] came and took the body and buried it”).33 What then should we make of the fact that John also turns Joseph into a pre-Easter disciple of Jesus? In John 19:38 we read: “After this, Joseph of Arimathea, who was a disciple of Jesus (ὢν μαθητὴς τοῦ Ἰησοῦ), but secretly, for fear of the Jews, asked Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus, and Pilate gave him leave. So he came and took away his body.” In my commentary on Matthew, I relegated discussion of this agreement to a brief footnote: “If this [John 19:38] is independent of Matthew then it indicates that Matthew’s ἐμαθητεύθη owes something to non-Markan tradition. But Curtis thinks John here knows Matthew.”34 This seems, in retrospect, wholly inadequate (although I did have the good sense to use the conditional “if ”). There is no reason, other than John’s presumed independence from Matthew, to imagine that Matthew’s ἐμαθητεύθη owes anything to tradition. Only here, moreover, does John immediately qualify μαθητής with τοῦ Ἰησοῦ, “a disciple of Jesus.” Matthew’s parallel is ἐμαθητεύθη τῷ Ἰησοῦ, “become a disciple to Jesus.”35 Is it not hard to avoid the inference that Matthew has, directly or indirectly, here influenced John—especially when one adds that John also concurs with Matthew in asserting that the tomb was “new” (καινός: Matt 27:60; John 19:43)?36 (iii) Jesus sits on a mountain five times in the canonical Gospels. Two of these occasions—Mark 13:3 and Matt 24:3, where Jesus sits on the Mount of Olives and speaks “privately” with a select group of disciples—do not concern us. The three other occasions appear in Matthew and John:
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Matt 4:23–5:1, introduction to the Sermon on the Mount
Matt 15:29-31, introduction to the feeding of the 4,000
John 6:1-3, introduction to the feeding of the 5,000
And he went about all Galilee . . . healing every illness and every infirmity among the people. So his fame spread . . . and they brought him all the sick, those suffering with various diseases and pains, demoniacs, epileptics, and paralytics, and he healed them. And many crowds followed him. . . . Seeing the crowds, he went up to the mountain, and when he sat down his disciples came to him.
And passing on from there, Jesus went along the Sea of Galilee; and going up to the mountain, he sat down there. And many came to him, bringing with them the lame, the maimed, the blind, the dumb, and many others, and they put them at his feet, and he healed them, so that the crowd marveled, seeing the dumb speaking, the maimed healthy, the lame walking, and the blind seeing; and they glorified the God of Israel.
After this Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, which is the Sea of Tiberias. And a great crowd followed him, because they saw the signs which he performed on those who were diseased. Jesus went up on the mountain, and there sat down with his disciples.
Καὶ περιῆγεν ἐν ὅλῃ τῇ Γαλιλαίᾳ . . . θεραπεύων πᾶσαν νόσον καὶ πᾶσαν μαλακίαν ἐν τῷ λαῷ. Καὶ ἀπῆλθεν ἡ ἀκοὴ αὐτοῦ . . . καὶ προσή νεγκαν αὐτῷ πάντας τοὺς κακῶς ἔχοντας ποικίλαις νόσοις καὶ βασάνοις συνεχομένους [καὶ] δαιμονιζομένους καὶ σεληνιαζομένους καὶ παραλυτικούς, καὶ ἐθερ άπευσεν αὐτούς. καὶ ἠκ ολούθησαν αὐτῷ ὄχλοι πολλοὶ. . . . Ἰδὼν δὲ τοὺς ὄχλους ἀνέβη εἰς τὸ ὄρος, καὶ καθίσαντος αὐτοῦ προσῆλθαν αὐτῷ οἱ μαθηταὶ αὐτοῦ.
Καὶ μεταβὰς ἐκεῖθεν ὁ Ἰησοῦς ἦλθεν παρὰ τὴν θάλασσαν τῆς Γαλιλαίας, καὶ ἀναβὰς εἰς τὸ ὄρος ἐκάθητο ἐκεῖ. καὶ προσῆλθον αὐτῷ πολλοὶ ἔχοντες μεθ’ ἑαυτῶν χωλούς, τυφλούς, κυλλούς, κωφούς, καὶ ἑτέρους πολλοὺς καὶ ἔρριψαν αὐτοὺς παρὰ τοὺς πόδας αὐτοῦ, καὶ ἐθεράπευσεν αὐτούς. ὥστε τὸν ὄχλον θαυμάσαι βλέποντας κωφοὺς λαλοῦντας, κυλλοὺς ὑγιεῖς καὶ χωλοὺς περιπατοῦντας καὶ τυφλοὺς βλέποντας· καὶ ἐδόξασαν τὸν θεὸν Ἰσραήλ.
Μετὰ ταῦτα ἀπῆλθεν ὁ Ἰησοῦς πέραν τῆς θαλάσσης τῆς Γαλιλαίας τῆς Τιβεριάδος. ἠκολούθει δὲ αὐτῷ ὄχλος πολύς, ὅτι ἐθεώρουν τὰ σημεῖα ἃ ἐποίει ἐπὶ τῶν ἀσθενούντων.ἀνῆλθεν δὲ εἰς τὸ ὄρος Ἰησοῦς καὶ ἐκεῖ ἐκάθητο μετὰ τῶν μαθητῶν αὐτοῦ.
That John’s verses betray a knowledge of Matthew seems to me, in this case, well-nigh inescapable: the list of agreements is too long and substantial for any other thesis. (a) In each instance, Jesus goes up and sits on a mountain (Matt 5:1: ἀνέβη εἰς τὸ ὄρος, καὶ καθίσαντος αὐτοῦ; Matt 15:29: ἀναβὰς εἰς τὸ ὄρος ἐκάθητο; John 6:3: ἀνῆλθεν δὲ εἰς τὸ ὄρος Ἰησοῦς καί . . . ἐκάθητο). The common structure is compound verb of movement
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with ἀν- + “on the mountain” (εἰς τὸ ὄρος) + “sat” (καθίσαντος or ἐκάθητο). (b) In both Matt 15:29 and John 6:3, Jesus sits “there” (Matthew: ἐκάθητο ἐκεῖ; John: ἐκεῖ ἐκάθητο). (c) In all three cases, he does so in Galilee, and in Matt 15:29 and John 6:1, by the Sea of Galilee. (d) Crowds are present all three times (ὄχλοι in both Matthean texts, ὄχλος in John). (e) These crowds have “followed” Jesus (ἠκολούθησαν αὐτῷ ὄχλοι in Matt 4:25; ἠκολούθει δὲ αὐτῷ ὄχλος in John 6:2). (f) In Matt 5:1 and John 6:3, “his disciples” are with him (Matthew: οἱ μαθηταὶ αὐτοῦ; John: τῶν μαθητῶν αὐτοῦ). (g) All three texts refer to Jesus healing the sick. (h) Matt 15:29-31 is the preface to the feeding of the four thousand. John 6:1-3 is the preface to the very similar feeding of the five thousand. (i) Given the tradition that Moses sat on Mount Sinai, Matt 5:1 and 15:29 contribute to the Evangelist’s extensive Moses typology37 while John 6:1-3 introduces a chapter that highlights the similarities and differences between Jesus and Moses. Dodd, after noticing several of the agreements between Matt 15:29-31 and John 6:1-5, wrote: “It is surely clear that if John had any Synoptic model here it was not Mark but Matthew.”38 He suggested, however, as “a more plausible hypothesis,” that the shared features, which “crop up throughout the Gospels in various connections, were combined in a partly similar way both in a tradition known to Matthew and in a different stand of tradition lying behind John.”39 The problem with this argument is that the image of Jesus sitting on a mountain in Galilee does not “crop up throughout the Gospels in various connections.” It is confined to two verses in Matthew and one in John. Furthermore, the Matthean notices of Jesus sitting on a mountain are part and parcel of an elaborate Moses typology and are commonly judged to be redactional creations.40 The implication is obvious.41 Before considering the next passage, it is worth recalling how B. H. Streeter, who thought John used Mark but not Matthew, dealt with the agreement just noted. “At first blush,” he wrote, “we seem at last to have found definite evidence that John knew Matthew.”42 He thought the best way out was through textual emendation. He speculated that “he went up on the mountain and sat down there” stood in Matthew’s copy of Mark. This allowed him to write the following: If a line beginning with ἀνὰ μέσον [which appears in Mark 7:31] was followed by one beginning ἀνάβας [which appears in Matt 15:29], an omission by homoioteleuton would be easy. Or suppose, as in א, the average line in an early copy of Mark had 13-14 letters. It might read:
ΑΝΑΜΕΣΟΝΤΩΝΟΡ ΙΩΝΔΕΚΑΠΟΛΕΩΣ ΑΝΑΒΑΣΕΙΣΤΟΟΡ ΟΣΕΚΑΘΗΤΟΕΚΕΙ Two lines, both beginning with Α Ν Α and ending with Ο Ρ, form an attractive invitation to homoioteleuton to a copyist inclined to that error.43
If Streeter’s assessment drove him to such an imaginative conjecture, maybe Streeter should have changed his assessment.
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(iv) The declaration, in John 8:12, that Jesus is the light of the world, could be, I suggested above, an amendment of Matt 5:14, where the disciples are the light of the world. I have wondered whether the same phenomenon might help explain John 1:21, where the Baptist, upon being asked, “What then? Are you Elijah?,” responds: “I am not.” Matthew twice has Jesus identify John with Elijah, first in 11:14 (“if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah who is to come”) and again in 17:12-13 (“I tell you that Elijah has already come, and they did not know him, but did to him whatever they pleased. . . . Then the disciples understood that he was speaking to them of John the Baptist”). This equation is, to be sure, implicit in Mark (9:13), and Luke 1:17 likens the two figures (John will go before Jesus “in the spirit and power of Elijah”). Matthew, however, is the only extant first century source explicitly to identify John with Elijah, and by doing so twice he is emphatic on the point. The commentators frequently have struggled here to harmonize John and Matthew.44 They have not succeeded. Maybe that is because, in this particular, the author of the Fourth Gospel deliberately set himself against the First Gospel.45 (v) Modern commentators often regard John 12:28 (πάτερ, δόξασόν σου τὸ ὄνομα: “Father, glorify your name”) as, in Raymond Brown words, “The Johannine form of the petition in the Lord’s Prayer, ‘Hallowed be your name.’”46 This is not the only verse in John which seems to reflect knowledge of the Lord’s Prayer. Dodd put the following parallels side by side, urging that they “presuppose a homiletical treatment of the several petitions of the prayer”:47 Matt 6:9-13
John 17:11; 6:32; 17:15
“Our Father . . . make your name holy” (Πάτερ ἡμῶν . . . ἁγιασθήτω τὸ ὄνομά σου)
“Holy Father, keep them in my name” (πάτερ ἅγιε, τήρησον αὐτοὺς ἐν τῷ ὀνόματί σου)
“Give us today our daily bread” (τὸν ἄρτον ἡμῶν τὸν ἐπιούσιον δὸς ἡμῖν σήμερον)
“My Father will give you the true bread from heaven” (ὁ πατήρ μου δίδωσιν ὑμῖν τὸν ἄρτον ἐκ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ τὸν ἀληθινόν)
“but in order to keep them from (the) evil “but deliver us from (the) evil (one)” (one)” (ἀλλ’ ἵνα τηρήσῃς αὐτοὺς ἐκ τοῦ (ἀλλὰ ῥῦσαι ἡμᾶς ἀπὸ τοῦ πονηροῦ) πονηροῦ) Dodd denied “that John needed to learn his Paternoster out of the Gospel according to Matthew.”48 Against this exegesis, one can hardly press the fact that Luke lacks “but deliver us from (the) evil (one).” Matthew’s form of the Lord’s Prayer, with its near perfect parallel in Did. 8:2, may have been widespread, and we cannot establish the redactional origin of “but deliver us from (the) evil (one).” Yet this is not the last word. John 12:28, with its echo of the Lord’s Prayer, immediately follows a verse in which Jesus says, “Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, for this purpose I have come to this hour.” The words sound like a forthright denial of what the Synoptics relate happened in Gethsemane.49 This is so suggestive
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because, while the story of Gethsemane appears in all three Synoptics, Matthew rewrote Mark so that Jesus’ words unmistakably hark back to the Lord’s Prayer: The Lord’s Prayer in Matthew, 6:9-13 Gethsemane in Matthew, 26:36-46 “Our Father” (πάτερ ἡμῶν)
“My Father” (πάτερ μου)
“Your will be done” (γενηθήτω τὸ θέλημά σου)
“Your will be done” (γενηθήτω τὸ θέλημά σου)
“Do not bring us to the test” (μὴ εἰσενέγκῃς ἡμᾶς εἰς πειρασμόν)
“That you not come to the test” (μὴ εἰσέλθητε εἰς πειρασμόν)
Did Matthew and John independently move from Gethsemane to the Lord’s Prayer? Or do we have here a sign of Matthew’s influence upon John?
Some clarifications (a) The evidence that John is not independent of Matthew is, in my judgment, more than suggestive.50 Some scholars not in Dodd’s camp, however, have focused on John’s knowledge of Mark and Luke. C. K. Barrett here represents the judgment of many. He urged that John had read both Mark and Luke. He offered no explanation for leaving Matthew out of account, and a review of his arguments leaves this reader puzzled. Part of Barrett’s case was a list of ten incidents that occur in the same order in Mark and John.51 Barrett could equally, however, have done exactly the same thing with Matthew, because all ten incidents are also in the First Gospel, and again in the same sequence. Barrett further presented a list of verbal parallels between Mark and John that occur in identical order. Yet most of these are not exclusive to Mark and John, and one could just as readily compile a list, of comparable length, of such parallels between Matthew and John.52 I do not contend that John did not know Mark. I think he did.53 Yet much of the apparent evidence for John’s acquaintance with Mark can be viewed equally as evidence for his acquaintance with Matthew, and one wonders why Barrett neglected this evident fact.54 Perhaps he was influenced by B. H. Streeter’s once well-known discussion, which discounted John’s use of Matthew.55 Or perhaps he was influenced by the theory of Markan priority and assumed, without much reflection, that if Matthew and Luke used Mark, it is a good bet that John did so also. However that may be, it stands to reason that, since most of Mark is in Matthew, and since many of the events in the Second Gospel appear in the same order in the First Gospel, most of the evidence Barrett musters is equivocal: it points no more to Mark than to Matthew. Put otherwise, much of the data cited for Markan influence upon John can be taken, if one is so inclined, as evidence of Matthean influence upon John. (b) If John is not independent of Matthew, the circumstance can be explained in at least five different ways: (i) the Fourth Evangelist had Matthew in front of him as he wrote; (ii) he had personally read the First Gospel but did not have it to hand when
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composing; (iii) he had once heard Matthew read; (iv) he had heard Matthew read more than once; (v) he had never heard or read Matthew, but someone who contributed to his tradition (whether oral or written) had read or heard the Gospel, which accordingly affected him indirectly.56 Given the limitations of our data, that is, given how little we really know, I do not see how to find the truth in this matter. Although I doubt that John had Matthew before him as he wrote,57 the other possibilities strike me as plausible. All that I feel safe observing is that Dodd was simplistic to suppose that, if Matthew influenced John, it must have been because John wrote with Matthew on his desk. Regularly, after noting that a passage in John has parallels not only in Mark but also in material unique Matthew and/or Luke, Dodd deemed it “incredible” that the Evangelist turned from one Gospel to another as he wrote.58 Dodd also used the word “motiveless” for such a scenario59 and regarded the hypothesis that John created a “mosaic” out of the other Gospels as “too improbable . . . to be seriously entertained.”60 The situation, however, looks different if we entertain the possibility of secondary orality, that John used a source influenced by Mark, Luke, and Matthew.61 Once the First Gospel had appeared—perhaps not long after 8062—and as soon as people who were still passing on oral traditions heard it read, it presumably influenced their recitations. An even simpler hypothesis—although it is not the better hypothesis for that reason alone—is that John had read or heard Matthew, Mark, and Luke but wrote his Gospel without them to hand. Human memory often conflates or mixes details from closely related incidents.63 It would be wholly unremarkable if, let us say, when John composed his version of the feeding of the five thousand, bits and pieces from several versions he had heard found a place in his telling. That would not be a compositional method but the common shuffling of recall. Dodd envisaged and rejected something like this scenario when he wrote of the possibility that John “had made himself so familiar with the earlier Gospels . . . that reminiscences of all came unbidden into his mind as he composed his own work.” Although granting that there is “no way of disproving such an hypothesis,” Dodd claimed that recent criticism had reduced the time between the publication of John on the one hand and Matthew and Luke on the other. He then opined: It seems unlikely that there was any one Christian centre where, in the short time since their publication, all three Synoptic Gospels had attained, together, such a position that it would be natural for a writer to use all three as equipollent sources, and still more unlikely that they had held this position long enough for him to have soaked himself in them so thoroughly as this hypothesis requires.64
This is unpersuasive. Nothing requires that John had “soaked” himself in the other Gospels or that he thought them “equipollent sources,” only that he or a contributor to his tradition had heard them. Beyond that, we should not underestimate the extent of the lines of communication among even distant churches of that period;65 and if, as is not uncommon, one dates Mark to circa 70, Matthew and Luke to circa 80, and John to circa 90, surely this allows enough time for influences from the Synoptics to have
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made their way to John. Mark became known to both Matthew and Luke in perhaps a decade or even less.66 (c) I have spoken throughout of John’s Gospel, without further clarification. There are, however, a number of theories about the compositional stages through which the Fourth Gospel passed,67 and some of their proponents have maintained that one Synoptic or another made its influence felt only at a secondary or late stage.68 I cannot discuss those theories here. Yet, from one point of view, maybe not much hangs upon them, because whatever view one takes of John and the Synoptics, it is self-evident that the Fourth Gospel contains much that is not from Matthew, Mark, or Luke. The Synoptics say nothing about the pool by the Sheep Gate called Bethzatha (John 5:2) or the pool of Siloam (9:7) or the portico of Solomon in the Temple (10:23) or the distance between Jerusalem and Bethany (11:18) or the Kidron valley and its garden (18:1) or the Stone Pavement called in Hebrew Gabbatha (19:13). Taken together, these items suffice to establish that John’s Gospel contains, independently of the Synoptics, Jewish Christian memories from Jerusalem.69 While these are the most obvious pointers to extra-Synoptic tradition, there are many more. Only John purports—and perhaps rightly remembers—that John and Jesus stayed in or near Bethany beyond the Jordan (1:28; 10:40), that Peter was a native of Bethsaida (John 1:44), that Jesus had a follower named Nathaniel (John 1:45-49; 21:2), that Jesus went to Jerusalem for major feasts more than once (John 2:13; 5:1; 7:10; 10:22-23), that John the Baptizer was active at Aenon-near-Salim (John 3:23), that Jesus baptized (John 4:1-2), that many of his disciples ceased following him long before the last week in Jerusalem (6:66), that he was slandered as a Samaritan (8:48), and that that he went to a town named Ephraim (11:54). Aside from whether we see history in one or more of these items, it is clear that John, even if he knew the Synoptics, knew more than the Synoptics. Moreover, the nature of the items catalogued in the previous two paragraphs is quite telling. They are, in every case, ancillary. Not one of them is, so to speak, something that someone remembered for its own sake. The distance between Bethany and Jerusalem was never the punch line of an apothegm. Nor did preachers or storytellers ever have, as their chief rhetorical point, the circumstance that the Baptizer once found himself near Salim. Rather—and just as we find them in John—these items must have been part and parcel of stories about Jesus or the Baptizer; and since they are not part and parcel of Synoptic stories, they must come from non-Synoptic sources. Presumably they are small pieces of greater wholes.
The historical Jesus (a) A problem arises, however, as soon as one infers that John drew upon nonSynoptic sources as well as the Synoptics. It has to do with the much-beloved criterion of multiple attestation, according to which the likelihood of a saying or event going back to Jesus rises as the number of independent witnesses to it rises. In dealing with material unique to John, multiple attestation is, by definition, inoperable, for we have in every case singly attested items. So those who prize this criterion and hesitate to
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render a judgment on the basis of a single witness will not be able to do anything with the relevant texts in John. Those who wish to employ multiple attestation would, one might think, be in a better position when the same saying or story appears in John and a Synoptic Gospel. But a problem appears here too. As an illustration, consider the feeding of the five thousand. What if (as I now do) one detects the influence of Matthew and Mark in John’s version? To what extent, if any, is John independent here? Did he know a nonSynoptic version of the multiplication miracle into which he blended elements from the Synoptics? Or did John here have nothing to hand but the Synoptics? The problem comes up with every story and saying common to John and the Synoptics.70 It is exceedingly difficult to decide whether John’s story of Jesus in the Temple (2:14-22) contains independent tradition or derives wholly from the Synoptics without remainder.71 The same is true of the anointing at Bethany (John 12:1-8), the entry into Jerusalem (John 12:12-19), and much else, including all of the shared sayings.72 Sometimes, as with the healing of the official’s son in John 4:46-54 (cf. Matt 8:5-13; Luke 7:1-10) or the resurrection appearance to Mary Magdalene (see above), the differences between John and the Synoptics may suggest independent tradition.73 Still, one cannot assume, as so many have been wont to imagine, that the criterion of multiple attestation is fulfilled whenever John has a parallel to something in the Synoptics. At an earlier point in my career, I would have found this fact unwelcome. Since I wanted to find the historical Jesus, I wanted the criterion of multiple attestation to work for as much material as possible. That desire may, in truth, be largely why I adhered to Dodd for so long, and why I was so late in coming to see signs of the Synoptics in John. In recent times, however, I have become accustomed to relying less and less upon the criterion of multiple attestation, at least with regard to individual sayings and stories.74 My tendency of late has been instead to focus upon topics and motifs and types of sayings that reappear again and again throughout the tradition. The idea is to uncover repeating patterns and then to tell the most persuasive stories about them, that is, to try to explain why they exist in the first place.75 The strategy is designed to overcome the large uncertainties that more often than not attend determining the authenticity of individual sayings or events. For this purpose, John’s Gospel—which, despite Synoptic influence, contains much that is unique—becomes just another source. It adds its testimony, for example, to any number of possible—and, in the following cases, exceedingly probable—assertions about the historical Jesus: He was closely associated with John the Baptizer (1:6, 15, 19-42; 3:22–4:3; 5:31-38; 10:40-41), had a band of twelve disciples (6:67, 70-71; 20:24), was a miracle worker (2:1-11; 5:2-9; 9:1-12; 11:28-44), came into conflict with religious authorities (4:1-3; 7:32, 45-52; 9:13-34; 11:45-53; 18:1-32), was crucified in Jerusalem during Passover season (12:1; 13:1; 18:39; 19:14), emphasized love in his teaching (13:1-35; 14:15-17; 15:12-17), addressed God as “Father” (11:41; 12:27-28; 17:1, 5, 11, 21, 24, 25), favored the locution, “the Son of Man” (1:51; 3:13-15; 5:27; 6:27, 53, 62; 8:28; 12:23, 34; 13:31-32), liked to preface avowals with “amen” (3:3, 5; 5:19, 24-25; 6:26; 13:16, 20, 21; 14:12), had a lofty self-conception (e.g., 3:10 ff.; 4:10, 14, 26; 5:17 ff.;
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6:32 ff.; 7:16 ff.; 8:12, 42; 9:5, 39; 10:7-9 ff., 30, 34-38; 11:25-26; 12:32, 44-50; 14:6 ff.; 15:1 ff.; 16:15, 23; 17:2-3; 18:5 ff.), employed aphoristic formulations (3:8, 29; 4:37; 11:0-10; 12:24, 25; 15:13; 16:21),76 prophesied suffering for his followers (15:18-25; 16:1-4, 16-24), spoke about the Kingdom of God (3:3, 5), believed in the resurrection of the dead (5:28-29), and did not run from his death or otherwise resist it (10:11-18; 12:23-27; 15:12-13; 16:5-10; 18:10-12). One might object that all the above observations do not amount to much, because we would know everything enumerated above without John. Such an objection would, however, be short-sighted. The points of general concord between John and the Synoptics, which are scarcely confined to shared sayings and stories, go far beyond the items just enumerated. Moreover, given how different John otherwise is from them (a fact to which I shall return), the agreements are significant. If they did not exist, if John were wholly other, we would almost certainly be faced with a catastrophic memory failure in at least one source; and surely that would make us wonder more than we already do about all our sources. But such agreements do exist, and they are the proof that, no matter how creative and different the Fourth Evangelist was, his work nonetheless incorporates a great deal of tradition, and in fact, I would affirm, much memory. (b) Memory, however, is not, for our immediate purposes, a clear-cut concept. The criteria of authenticity have habituated us to thinking in terms of simplistic antitheses— authentic versus not authentic, historical versus unhistorical. But fictions need not be pure fictions. Many of the legends about Saint Francis no doubt catch his character, and although Heraclitus never said exactly, “You cannot step into the same river twice,” the aphorism aptly sums up one of his central ideas. Nils Dahl once wrote that when a “word or occurrence found a place within the tradition about Jesus [it] indicates that it agreed with the total picture as it existed within the circle of the disciples.”77 This is a sensible claim, and it means that even stories that do not reproduce historical events may tell us about Jesus because they incorporate features his followers knew to be congruent with what he was all about. Fiction can build upon and incorporate facts. Memory and legend can be entangled. It follows that historians of Jesus should not, without further ado, set aside a narrative even if they doubt that it recounts a particular event in Jesus’ life. Consider in this light John 11 and the raising of Lazarus. John Meier’s investigation of the story comes to three main conclusions.78 First, John did not invent it: there was a pre-Johannine tradition. Second, that tradition “goes back ultimately to some event involving Lazarus, a disciple of Jesus.”79 Third, although we no longer can tell what actually happened, “this event was believed by Jesus’ disciples even during his lifetime to be a miracle of raising the dead.”80 Meier may well be right on all three accounts. I do not claim to know. What I do claim is the following: Whatever its origin, and even if Jesus had no friend named Lazarus, the report of Jesus raising Lazarus is not devoid of memory but, in several ways, remembers rightly. For, aside from John 11, yet in accord with John 11, we have every reason to believe that Jesus had disciples who sometimes addressed him as “rabbi” (11:8), that he was at least once in the vicinity of Jerusalem (11:1), that people held him to be a healer (11:21-22, 32), that some believed he had cured the blind
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(11:37), that some, including Jesus himself, thought he could raise the dead (11:11, 38-44), that Jesus addressed God as “Father” (11:41), that he expected the resurrection of the dead (11:23-26), that some of his contemporaries hoped him to be a messianic figure (11:27), and that he approached Jerusalem in the expectation that he might die (11:16). So even if the story about Lazarus is not, in the ordinary sense, historical, even if it does not contain one word that Jesus spoke or narrate one thing that he did, it is not altogether misleading. For in multiple particulars, and whatever its tradition history and origin, it incorporates memories of Jesus and preserves an impression of the sort of person some took him to be. One might, if so inclined, call it historical fiction. It is much the same with other stories in John whose historicity we may doubt or of which we can form no opinion. This should not surprise, for if, as we have seen, John as a whole often reinforces patterns found elsewhere, the same must be true for many of its parts. (c) Beyond reinforcing patterns common to multiple sources, how else might John contribute to the quest? Many would respond that the Fourth Gospel records independent traditions which we can authenticate, traditions which might then supplement or correct the Synoptic testimony. In theory, for instance, one could give reasons to suppose that, as John 3:22 alone relates, Jesus did, in fact, baptize; or that, as John 13:1-20 alone has it, at the last supper he washed the feet of his disciples; or that, as John 19:38-42 alone recounts, Nicodemus had a hand in Jesus’ burial; or that, as John 12:24 has it, Jesus really said, “Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” The difficulty here, speaking for myself, is that, after decades of readying the relevant books and articles, I have yet to run across robust arguments to establish any of these claims. I hasten to add that I also have yet to encounter compelling arguments to the contrary, arguments that move me to deny with assurance any of these things. Although both those who find less history in John than I do and those who find more history than I do may deem me too cautious in such matters, I remain agnostic about a great deal, and more often than not unpersuaded by the guild’s attempts to establish yea or nay.81 Time and time again I have rather recalled Origen, who confessed how exceedingly difficult it can be to show that some recorded event took place, even if it did take place.82 This does not necessarily bring us to a dead end, however. Some have contended that, in a few intriguing particulars, John makes more historical sense than the Synoptics and so should be preferred to them. According to Moody Smith, an item in John may be reckoned historical when it (1) accords with the Synoptic portrait yet does not appear there; (2) does not promote distinctively Johannine themes; and (3) is plausible within the context of Jesus’ ministry.83 Smith’s strongest candidate is John’s version of Jesus’ appearance before Jewish authorities (18:19-24). As is well-known, this is “remarkably spare and inconclusive” compared with Mark 14:55-65. The latter, furthermore, not only less plausibly “amounts to a full-scale trial concluding with a guilty verdict” but also stands in tension with several rules set forth in m. Sanhedrin.84 The case is substantial, which is why Smith is not alone in judging John’s account of Jesus’ trial to be “superior” and “much more likely than that in the Synoptics.”85 I am inclined to agree with this—yet not without appending the caveat of Nils Dahl: “The
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greater historical probability is no certain proof that old, authentic tradition has been preserved. The impression of historical accuracy could be the result of improvement by the redactor.”86 I am further inclined to follow Smith in favoring John’s chronology, although with less assurance. The Fourth Gospel has Jesus go to Jerusalem on multiple Passovers while the Synoptics tell of one trip only, implying that the public ministry lasted no more than a year. Smith asks: “Did Jesus gather disciples, teach, gain fame as a miracle worker, and arouse opposition that led to his death in less than a year?” He answers: “Perhaps, but the traditional, longer (Johannine) time frame makes considerable sense, particularly if we take into account a period in which Jesus worked under the influence of John the Baptist, as the Fourth Gospel may imply. . . . That Jesus visited Jerusalem more than once during his public activity is intrinsically probable.”87 The last sentence certainly sounds reasonable. Jesus was a pious Jew, and pilgrimage to Jerusalem was a staple of Jewish piety, especially during Passover, the Festival of Booths, and the Festival of Weeks (cf. Exod 23:17; 34:23; Deut 16:16). “It is probable that most Palestinian Jews made at least one pilgrimage a year.”88 I not only tentatively side with Smith here but also entertain seriously the possibility that, as John 2 has it, the so-called cleansing of the Temple occurred earlier in the ministry.89 If Jesus created ill will among some important people in Jerusalem by his provocative actions in the Temple and then departed, this would explain why, later on, when he decided to return to the city, he expected (as all four Gospels purport) an inimical reception. Is this not more sensible than imagining that Jesus knew in advance what people who had never met him were going to make of him?90 Furthermore, and again in accord with John, if Jesus, as seems likely, prophesied the destruction and rebuilding of the Jerusalem Temple,91 it makes good sense that he did so within the Temple precincts (John 2:19). In line with this, even though Mark offers no original context for the prophecy,92 Jesus is quoted as speaking of “this Temple” (τὸν ναὸν τοῦτον, 14:58). The demonstrative pronoun would be appropriate in a prophecy whose Sitz im Leben was the Temple.93 Still, this does not mean that John accurately records the number of visits to Jerusalem during the public ministry. Furthermore, and as in so many other cases, many will not think we have in any of this moved from the possible to the probable. Here is part of E. P. Sanders’ case for the shorter Synoptic chronology: Josephus’ references to other prophetic figures are compatible with very short careers. They offered “signs of deliverance” in the desert, crowds followed them, and the Romans quickly sent troops. . . . Further clues make the short ministry of the Synoptics somewhat more likely than John’s. Jesus seems to have been itinerant, and his close followers gave up their normal occupations to be with him. We hear of outside support (Luke 8:1) . . . , but nevertheless none of the material explains how the small group lived, where its members slept, or who paid the bills. . . . It is at least slightly easier to explain this general absence of information on the hypothesis of a short ministry, one that was based on improvising ways and means. A longer ministry implies more organization, and one would expect to find more signs of that in the Gospels.94
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I cite Sanders not because I agree with him but because his observations are typical of so many of our arguments. Time and again, they intrigue but fall short. They introduce possibilities rather than compel. And this is the case, in my judgment, with most of Smith’s proposals regarding Johannine historicity.95 Not that I am sure he is wrong about any of them; I am just not sure he is right. I remain, then, in the middle, undecided. Sadly, I understand why John Meier has recently admonished us: “Blessed are those with modest expectations, for they shall not be disappointed.”96 (d) There is, however, another way in which I find John to be a valuable historical witness. It has to do with Jesus’ eschatological expectations. I am among those who believe that he hoped that the resurrection of the dead, the general judgment, and the utopian Kingdom of God were at hand. On my view, Luke 19:11 is historically truthful when it has the disciples, on their way to Jerusalem, supposing that the Kingdom was to appear immediately; and I believe they thought this because Jesus hoped it. Furthermore, I do not believe this was for him a marginal idea. Rather, eschatological expectations were central to his ministry and self-conception.97 Now I cannot develop or defend this view here, only observe the following: If the earliest Jesus tradition featured a Naherwartung, we would expect certain consequences, because we know what has happened in other times and places when fervent eschatological expectations have given way to normal time, when people have had to cope with prophetic disappointment. Again and again, groups wrestling with a disjunction between expectation and experience have done the same things. They have reinterpreted prophecies so that non-fulfillment becomes fulfillment or partial fulfillment. And they have projected unfulfilled prophecies into the future. And they have insisted that oracles were initially misunderstood. And they have spiritualized eschatological language so that it characterizes the present as opposed to the future.98 All of these strategies appear in John, where they are indeed, to my mind, clear as day. Here are six illustrations: ●
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John 2:19-22, Jesus’ words in the Temple: although, according to the Evangelist, people heard him say that he would destroy the Temple in Jerusalem and raise up another—something that would make good sense within a Jewish eschatological scenario99—Jesus’ followers, after his resurrection, came to understand that he had rather been cryptically referring to his own body.100 John 5:21-29, on the resurrection of the dead: While the dead, both those who have done good and those who have done evil, will rise on the last day (5:2829), resurrection does not just belong to the future, for “as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whomever he will. . . . Truly, truly, I say to you, anyone who hears my word and believes him who sent me, has eternal life and does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life” (5:21-24).101 John 12:23-26, Jesus’ response upon learning some Greeks are looking for him: Here he declares, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.” In Dan 7:13-14, the one like a son of man is given glory when he comes on the clouds of heaven; and in the Synoptics—also with allusion to Dan 7:13-14—Jesus the Son of Man will come with glory when he returns.102 What is still future in the Synoptics
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is, in John, fulfilled in the crucifixion. Elsewhere in the Fourth Gospel, the old prophecies of Jesus coming again are interpreted as realized either in his continued presence with his own or his coming for them at death (14:3, 18, 23, 28). John 12:27-36, on Jesus’ death: Jesus proclaims, in v. 31, “Now is the judgment of this world, now shall the ruler of this world be cast out” (cf. 16:11). This combines two traditional eschatological expectations—that the end will bring a judgment and destroy the powers of evil—and moves them to the cross, where they come to pass. John 16:16-24, on sorrow turning to joy: After Jesus says, “A little while, and you will no longer see me, and again a little while, and you will see me,” the disciples ask, “What does he mean by this ‘a little while’?” (16:18). C. H. Dodd rightly perceived the historical situation behind these verses: “There is sufficient evidence that, in some quarters at least, the interval between Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection on the one hand and His second advent on the other was expected to be very short; and it was believed that He said it would be. But by the time this Gospel was written the short interval—τὸ μικρόν—was expanding unexpectedly. What had Christ really meant?”103 John 21:20-23, Jesus and the Beloved Disciple: some believers in Jesus interpreted one of his sayings to mean that the Beloved Disciple would not die before the second coming; but that is not what Jesus really said: they were wrong.104
John is, among other things, a full-scale response to the delay of the parousia, and this fact confirms the picture of Jesus that one should infer from the Synoptics. That is to say, if the Synoptics tell us that Jesus promoted a certain brand of eschatology, the Fourth Gospel in its own, indirect way confirms this, for it displays the signs of what happens when religious folk have to deal with eschatological disappointment.105
Final remarks We should be leery of the word “consensus” when it becomes, as it often does, an excuse to quit thinking. For the same reason, we should welcome informed, intelligent people who question the conventional wisdom on this or that subject. So I have been quite interested in the recent books and articles pushing us to pay more attention to John as a source for the historical Jesus. They have given us much to ponder. At the same time, I confess, despite all that I have learned, that my Jesus looks more Synoptic than Johannine. I have at least three reasons for my view.106 First, I am confident that the Synoptics do a much better job of informing us about Jesus’ eschatological expectations as well as about his fondness for speaking of “the Kingdom of God” than does John, and this for me is not a marginal fact. Second, I remain convinced that Jesus often employed narrative parables and won much of his fame as a successful exorcist, and that these two things find no place in John is a problem.107 Third, the exalted and publicly proclaimed Christology of John’s Jesus has to be a secondary development. While Jesus was probably the center of his own eschatological scenario,108 the more restrained Synoptic figure must be closer to pre-Easter history than the Johannine figure who
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keeps no messianic secret, who often sounds like the writer of 1 John, and who recurrently discusses the Son’s relationship to the Father.109 That Jesus said “Before Abraham was, I am” (John 8:58) or “I am the living bread which came down from heaven” (6:51) or “I and the Father are one” (10:30) is no more likely than that he referred to the Torah as “your law” (8:17, 34) or “their law” (15:25). In these three very important respects, then, John is secondary. Nonetheless, the fact scarcely entails that the Fourth Gospel holds no memories. John clearly does, in multiple ways and through independent channels. Indeed, in some particulars, such as Jesus’ encounter with the high priest and the length of the public ministry, it appears to remember better than its canonical companions. One possible explanation for this, as well as for the accurate topographical data, is that the Beloved Disciple, whoever he may have been, was not a fictional invention of the Evangelist but a pre-Easter follower of Jesus who contributed to John’s tradition. Is this enough, however, for us to embrace Paul Anderson’s “bi-optic perspective”?110 One understands the rhetorical purpose of the phrase, which is to prod us to pay more attention to John when thinking about the historical Jesus. For two reasons, however, I hesitate. The first has to do with the prefix “bi-,” which denotes “two.” In introducing his approach in one publication, Anderson quotes William Temple: “It is well to remember that where there is a divergence between the Synoptics and St. John, it is not a case of three witnesses against one; for in this respect St. Mark governs the Synoptic tradition. . . . The divergence then is between the Second Gospel and the Fourth.”111 Although this is true for some matters, it is not true for all, and it is not true for the textual circumstances I just gave as my reasons for, in important particulars, preferring the Synoptics over John. Imminent eschatological expectation, repeated use of the phrase, “the Kingdom of God,” parables and exorcisms, and less dramatic Christological pronouncements do not just characterize Mark over against John. They also characterize Q over against John, M over against John, and L over against John. In these matters it is four against one, not one against one. It is important not to forget this perspective. Second, not all eyes are equal. Some people have 20/20 in both eyes, others 50/50 in both. Again, some have different levels of visual acuity in their different eyes whereas others have cataracts. So how is it with John and, let us say, Mark? A scholar allergic to using John as an historical source for Jesus might say that John is something like legally blind. A scholar favorably disposed to John might, to the contrary, contend that Mark and John see equally well—maybe both are 20/40—but exhibit different points of view. Yet a third scholar might suggest that, whereas Mark has, let us say, 20/50 vision, John has 20/100. All this is, to be sure, silly. Our similes cannot be quantified. The simple point, however, which is that some eyes see better than others, stands, and we need to keep that in mind also.
Part Two
Literary and Rhetorical Approaches for Jesus Research in John
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Some Methodological Considerations Regarding John, Jesus, and History Harold W. Attridge
With all that has been written in the last decade or two about John, Jesus, and History, what more can one add? Jim Charlesworth asked me to contribute something about “methodology” for uncovering historical “facts” from the pages of the Fourth Gospel, but allowed me to pursue that question as I might. This chapter will not repeat what is common knowledge, the kind of positivistic historical methodology that has long governed the “Quest for the Historical Jesus.” John Meier has summarized that well.1 Nor is it necessary to repeat the claim that the “literary turn” in Johannine studies has raised provocative questions about the historical quest. Adele Reinhartz and Coleen Conway have made that point.2 Seeking history in John remains, as Moody Smith has aptly said, a “problem.”3 So this chapter will raise some critical questions about the program of seeking historical data from John, not arguing that the task is impossible, just that it has serious pitfalls. These are easy enough to ignore, but at the questers’ peril. An observation about the generic character of the Gospel will provide a test case of how the Gospel treats historical claims.
The principle: Question of genre The observation, put somewhat simply, is that the Evangelist is not interested in writing history, at least as we tend to understand it in our various modern quests. I have argued this position elsewhere4 and will not repeat the argument in detail. A summary will suffice. The general consensus about the literary genre of the Gospel is that it fits somehow into the genre of biography. That claim is reasonable enough,5 but it is useful to remember that biography may be understood as a subset of the larger genre of historiography. Moreover, as several recent scholars have argued,6 the Fourth Gospel has features that resemble elements of historiographical literature. Often these features, such as unique geographical data, are cited as evidence of the Gospel’s historicity or at least of the presence of historical data. A consideration of how the Gospel works generically cannot, however, stop with the observation of such features shared with
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historiographical literature. A full account of the Gospel’s genre should take stock of how genres are treated in the first century. As classicists and students of Jewish literature alike have noted, there is a great deal of flexibility and adaptation in the appropriation of generic models. Genres, in other words, are regularly “bent.”7 Such “bending” often took the form of an author positioning his work at the opposite of an idealized construct of what the genre had come to be. An important element of the Fourth Gospel’s bending or adaptation of historical biography is its dramatic quality. This feature has often been named by modern scholars, interested in the Gospel’s literary features.8 Attention to “dramatic” features is not merely a function of modern literary sensitivity. The ancient discourse about what “proper history” should be, regularly invoked a dichotomy between serious critical history, aimed at an accurate account of the facts of the past on the one hand, and, on the other, emotionally effective history that would have an impact on its readers. The highly dramatized account of the life of Jesus that the Fourth Gospel offers is a “bending” of the gospel genre, exemplified, for instance, by the Gospel according to Luke, which presents at least a veneer of critical historiography. Our Evangelist in effect says, “No, that is not the way to tell the story of Jesus.” A truly effective gospel must engage its reader (or listener) in a serious way. Such engagement takes place in the kinds of encounters that the Gospel describes9 and in its complex use of provocative devices, such as the character of the Beloved Disciple. That figure is both an ideal to be emulated and a riddling eyewitness who draws a reader back into the text in search of his identity. In that process the reader may encounter another, more perfect witness.10 This approach to writing a gospel as highly dramatized history is not incompatible with an account that provides a window onto actual history, but its primary focus is not on the recording of facts of the past. Indeed facts, like genres, can be “bent” for dramatic effect.
A test case: Where is Jesus from? If this description of the Gospel’s generic strategy is correct, our Evangelist (or our team of evangelists, if the Gospel is composed over time) is interested in telling the story of Jesus in order to enable the kind of transformative encounter described in the Gospel itself. This has implications for our quest to construct the history of Jesus and the movement that he generated. A simple test case is the question of where Jesus is from. This, in principle, is a historical fact that should be recoverable. If we believe Mark, Jesus is from Nazareth (Mark 1:9). Mark in fact regularly labels him a Nazarene (1:24; 10:47; 14:67; 16:6), which might have some esoteric meaning, but most likely simply means an inhabitant of the Galilean town.11 That town was then his “native place” (πάτρις, Mark 6:1), where his nameless father, his mother Mary, and his brothers and sisters lived (Mark 6:3). Matthew and Luke supplement the data in Mark by reporting the name of the father, or at least the earthly father, of Jesus, Joseph.12 And they also provide an additional report about the site of his birth, his πάτρις in a very specific sense. It was not Nazareth, but, of course, Bethlehem, which handily fulfills a scriptural prophecy,
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at least in Matthew’s version (Matt 2:6, citing Mic 5:1, 3). In Luke the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem fulfills not prophecy but constitutes typology (Luke 2:4, 15); the city of David is the place where shepherds appropriately come to worship their newborn king. As for Jesus being a Nazarene (or more precisely, a Ναζωραῖος), Matt 2:23 at least explains that label as the fulfillment of a mysterious scriptural prophecy, perhaps an interpreted verse from Judges (Judg 13:5, 7; 16:17) or Isaiah (Isa 11:1).13 So much for the data of the Synoptic Gospels. Before turning to John, what do we make of all of this? Do we accept the birth in Bethlehem as a fact later connected with scripture or a scripturally generated legend, whoever first concocted it? If we go with the former, why do we do so? Bethlehem was indeed the native town of Jesus because the claim has multiple attestation? But what if Francis Watson et al. are right and Luke is simply a rewriting of Matthew?14 Or, if we go with the traditional two-source theory, we might hold that Matthew and Luke derive from the same early Jewish-Christian tradition.15 Then we have two witnesses, Mark, who knows nothing of Bethlehem, and Matthew, who probably invents it or may welcome it as the birthplace of Jesus. It is not necessary to solve this problem now, but the Synoptic data and their problems might be relevant to the question of the origins of Jesus in John. At first blush, John would seem to follow in the footsteps of Mark or the tradition represented in Mark, with the addition of the name of Jesus’ father, a detail not mentioned in Mark. Among the first disciples of Jesus is Philip, who comes from Bethsaida. The name of Philip’s home town, by the way, is one of those bits of unique data that turn up in John. At John 1:45 Philip tells Nathanael that he has found the one of whom Moses and the prophets spoke, “Jesus, the son of Joseph, from Nazareth.” Nathanael, of course, utters his famous putdown of Nazareth, “What good indeed can come from Nazareth!”—a stinging one-liner. So, by the end of the Gospel’s first chapter readers seem to know where Jesus is from and what his father’s name is. They will be reminded of these data in the words of the Ioudaioi in 6:42, and in the opinion of Pilate, who has Jesus crucified as “Jesus the Nazorean, King of the Jews” (19:19).16 But is this information, to put the question in Platonic terms, just δόξα, “opinion,” rather than ἐπιστήμη, “knowledge,” or as John might put it, ἀλήθεια, “truth”? What we know is what Philip, the Ioudaioi, and Pilate, think about Jesus. Are Philip and the Ioudaioi right? Nazareth does not serve as the setting for anything in the Fourth Gospel. Nearby Cana does, and Capernaum, which is a major venue in the Synoptics, makes cameo appearances in John. Jesus goes there after the wedding (2:12); from a distance he cures an official’s son there (4:46), and he delivers his “Bread of Life” homily in a synagogue in Capernaum, where, the Gospel tells us, he used to preach (6:17, 24, 59). Is there any historical data in any of those reports? Perhaps, but space does not permit considering that question here. The Gospel shows that Jesus was sometimes at least active in Galilee, though the bulk of his activity takes place in Jerusalem. The question of Jesus’ native place resurfaces at the end of chapter four, after his productive visit to Samaria. The Evangelist reports that Jesus left Samaria and went to Galilee, telling us Jesus did so because he “witnessed that a prophet has no honor in his homeland (ἐν τῇ ἰδίᾳ πατρίδι)” (4:44). When Jesus arrived, the Galileans received him, having seen all that he did in Jerusalem at the feast, a reference to the “signs” in Jerusalem mentioned, but not reported, at 2:23.
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The report at the end of chapter four leaves the reader, and most commentators, scratching their head. Jesus knows the proverb about prophets without honor and presumably thinks it to be true. So he leaves Samaria. Does that move, plus the fact of a warm welcome in Galilee, imply that Jesus is a Samaritan? That is unlikely, in view of his dialogue with the thirsty Samaritan woman (4:9), who identifies him as a Ioudaios. Moreover, he has just been warmly welcomed in Samaria, recognized as “savior of the world” (4:42). So the prophet without honor in his homeland has been warmly received in Galilee and Samaria. Perhaps Jesus is portrayed as testing the proverb. Knowing its truth, and having been recognized in Samaria, he realizes that Samaria cannot be his true “homeland.” So he tries Galilee, where, after all he had family. That makes an interesting story line, and one might even test the hypothesis that it is historically true, but it is hardly compatible with the portrait of Jesus sketched in the Gospel, where he regularly has a deep, even preternatural knowledge of what is going on. He should surely know what is his πάτρις. Another obvious option is that the proverb perhaps refers to Judaea, although readers have no reason to suspect that at this point, unless, of course, they had been reading Matthew and Luke. Yet even in Judaea, according to 2:23, many believed in him, having seen the signs he performed. So one could argue that at least at this point no region of ancient Israel would count as the “homeland” where Jesus was not honored. Perhaps what is going on here is the result of blundering redactional activity. Cam von Wahlde offers such an explanation. He finds that the Galilean origin of Jesus, in 1:46, as well as 7:41, 52, to which we shall return, is a feature of the first edition of the Gospel and notes that it seems to be confirmed by 4:1 and the notice that follows. He discussed the possibility that the proverb at 4:44 refers to Judaea, but rejects that, arguing: “We find other problems. In both the first (cf. 4:1, 3) and second editions (cf. 7:1) Jesus experiences hostility in Judea. But then it is difficult to know in what sense Judea was Jesus’ ‘native country.’”17 Indeed! So how do we explain the text? Von Wahlde suggests: “As we saw in the Note to v. 44 [scil. a prophet without honor], the verse has close parallels in the Synoptics. This fact strongly suggests that its insertion here was intended to echo the Synoptics. Yet as is the case with some other attempts to echo the Synoptics, the author has not understood the original meaning of the material and the insertion results in confusion. This is the work of the third author.”18 Along the way to assessing our text as a historical source, it will be necessary to test the hypothesis of a clumsy secondary or tertiary author or editor. But first, the plot thickens. Data on the origins of Jesus continue after he feeds the multitudes and preaches his Bread of Life homily. In John 7:1, after all the happenings in Capernaum, Jesus appears “walking about” (περιεπάτει) in some unspecified venue in Galilee, not in Judaea, where the nasty Ioudaioi are seeking to kill him. Those Ioudaioi, of course, had been offended by Jesus’ healing of a paralytic and the claims he made on the basis of the healing in chapter 5. Wherever Jesus is strolling at the beginning of chapter 7, his brothers are present. They tell him to go off to Judaea and show off for his disciples (7:3). What are they thinking? Do they know that the situation in Judaea is dangerous and do they nonetheless have confidence that a show of divine power there will convince the Ioudaioi that their brother is legitimate? Are they, like the post-Resurrection James, supporters of Jesus? Or are they rather like the relatives (if that is what οἱ παρ᾽ αὐτοῦ
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means) at Mark 3:21 who think that Jesus is a little crazy (ἐλεγον γὰρ ὅτι ἐξέστη). That extremely skeptical note, which only appears in Mark, leads to the Synoptic story of the reaction of Jesus’ mother and brothers, who are concerned and somewhat embarrassed by Jesus’ preaching (Mark 3:31-32). Jesus reacts negatively to their concern, even to the extent of redefining his true family as those who do God’s will (Mark 3:33-35). The theme continues in chapter 6 when Mark adds, after listing the names of Jesus’ family, that the inhabitants of Nazareth were “scandalized” by him (ἐσκανδαλίζοντο ἐν αὐτῷ, Mark 6:3; Matt 13:57, but not Luke). The reference to those who were scandalized no doubt included the relatives. Mark’s unflattering portrait of Jesus’ family is softened in Matthew and Luke.19 The portrait of the family of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel keeps some of the tone of the Markan account. The suggestion of the brothers in John 7:3-4 should probably be read as laced with sarcasm or perhaps even venom. In effect they say, “Sure, go show off to your disciples in Jerusalem. We’ll see how that goes!” This reading of the exchange between Jesus and his brothers meshes with the deceptive action of Jesus that follows, when he secretly goes up to Galilee, having told his brothers that he was not going (7:10). The action reinforces the sense that all is not harmonious among the sons of Joseph. The situation between Jesus and his brothers also seems to prove the truth of the proverb of 4:44 that a prophet is not honored in his “native place.” It would make sense that such a place is where the family resides, and where the dishonoring brothers reside, that is, right there in Galilee. Yet the Gospel never names the native place. The studied vagueness about the geographical reference continues. Does the Evangelist simply assume readers know what he has in mind from the reference to Nazareth in chapter 1? Or is the lack of specificity a continuation of the ambiguity encountered earlier? The identity of the “native place” was decidedly murky in chapter 4 and it remains ambiguous at the beginning of chapter 7. The question of where Jesus is from pops up again later in the chapter, when Jesus appears teaching in the Temple at the Feast of Tabernacles (7:14). After his initial response to hostile opposition (7:14-18), Jesus presents a defense (7:19-24) of his healing on the Sabbath, which was reported in chapter 5. The folk in Jerusalem react, noting the plot to do away with him (7:26), reminding the readers, in case they had forgotten, that Jesus is in hostile territory. The Jerusalemites, however, go on to wonder if the rulers (οἱ ἄρχοντες) know Jesus to be the Messiah (7:26).20 The Jerusalemites reject that possibility because they know where Jesus is from, and one is not supposed to know where the Messiah is from (7:27).21 The principle that the crowd establishes certainly seems relevant to the quest for the historical datum of Jesus’ point of origin, but it also raises other issues. So a brief digression is necessary.
Another form of historical inquiry: The history of contemporary Judaism The opinion of the crowd at John 7:27 seems to reflect the notion of a “hidden Messiah,” however that is to be understood. It is worth pausing for a moment on this verse before continuing to explore what the Gospel suggests about the origins of Jesus. The detour is needed because the conversation about the verse raises another sense in which one
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might explore “history” in the Fourth Gospel. So far this chapter has been focused on Jesus and history, but the Gospel has also been treated as a source for other kinds of historical information. Can the Gospel indeed provide reliable information about first century Jewish beliefs and practices, whatever it might reveal about Jesus? That it does so in some of its details is clear. The famous stone jars of Cana is a prime example. Archaeological discoveries in Galilee dating from the late Second Temple period show a marked preference for stone vessels in areas settled by Judaeans after the expansion of Hasmonean hegemony in the late second century BCE.22 Thus details of the Johannine narrative, perhaps derived from a source, find confirmation in other kinds of data and thus provide at least historical verisimilitude. The accounts of the pools of Jerusalem in chapters 5 and 9 provide similar data.23 But are all cases of unique data in John the same? John 7:27 seems to provide evidence that some Jews thought that the origins of the Messiah would be unknown. Enhancing that sense is the tone of the verse, which is phrased to suggest that the notion is a truism, something so self-evident that no one would question it.24 At least commentators have taken it that way. Thyen, following Bauer, refers to the statement as a “jüdische Schulmeinung.”25 But how does one know that the notion of a hidden Messiah was as common in the “schools” as stone jars were in first century Galilee? Most commentators cite the same bits of textual evidence: 1 En 48:6; 62:7; 4 Ezra 7:28; 13:26, 32, 51-52;26 2 Bar 29:3; 39:7; 72:2; and especially Justin, Dial. 8.4; 110.1.27 Consider the last text. Justin’s Trypho argues: “If the Messiah has come to be and is present somewhere, he is unknown and does not even understand himself nor does he have any power, until Elijah comes, anoints him, and makes him known.”28 Trypho’s argument, as Raymond Brown suggests, may reflect speculation about the Son of Man as a mysterious heavenly figure found in 1 Enoch and 4 Ezra. Brown’s comment on what the verse contains is instructive: “This type of messianism (scil. what is suggested by John 7:27) is much closer to the hidden-Son-of-Man expectations of Enoch than to the standard Davidic expectations associated with Mic v. 2, and may really represent a conflation of the two strains.”29 So, if Brown is correct, what the crowds are saying is not exactly what would be in the “schools” of the first century; it is a Johannine adaptation of some Messianic expectation. Some commentators connect Trypho’s statement with a Rabbinic attestation of the so-called hidden Messiah motif,30 citing b. Sanh. 97a–99b as a prime example. The passage, which has interesting parallels with Justin, merits attention. This portion of the tractate Sanhedrin explores opinions about eschatological beliefs and when the “fallen tabernacle of David” (Amos 9:11) might be restored. The Talmud’s collection may do many things, but generally it tends to downplay any easy access to eschatological assurance. One of the stories (98b) tells of an encounter between R. Joshua b. Levi and Elijah, who was supposed to reveal who the Messiah is, a motif familiar from the NT and from Justin’s Dialogue. That Elijah just shows up and has a chat with the rabbi is one of the many humorous touches to this story. The rabbi asks the prophet when the Messiah will come. Elijah tells Rabbi Joshua to go and ask him personally, suggesting that the rabbi can find the Messiah sitting among the poor lepers at the gate, where they are taking
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care of one another’s bandages. The Messiah is doing his work carefully, one bandage at a time, no doubt so as not to be overly burdened with work if he is called into action. Rabbi Joshua asks him when he will formally come on the scene. The Messiah answers, “Today.” The rabbi, surprised and disappointed, goes off and complains to Elijah that the Messiah, in promising him a portion of the world to come right now, lied to him. The prophet responds, “Today, if you hear his voice,” alluding to Psalm 95. Elijah’s move recalls what the author of Hebrews does in citing that Psalm. It is up to Rabbi Joshua to hear the voice of the Messiah and do his part to bring the Kingdom of Heaven into reality in the here and now. This tale of the “hidden Messiah” then is a marvelous example of a story undermining eschatological expectation. A tradition of some sort is adapted for a homiletic purpose. Many commentators note the difficulty of correlating any form of the “hidden Messiah” motif to John 7:27. Barrett, like Brown, suggests that John “probably used the well-known Jewish belief but adapted it to his own thought of a supernatural, heavenly redeemer, the Son of Man.” Yet Barrett does not tell us how he knows that it was a “well known Jewish belief ” that the origins of the Messiah would not be known. Barrett further suggests that John has “theologized” or “re-theologized” a concept that had become “secularized,” whatever that means. He explains that the secret origin “is, or should be, equivalent to the admission that all human judgement about it is, and is bound to be, inadequate.”31 Here Barrett hits the nail on the head about what the whole episode is saying and it will be necessary to attend further to that point. But first, what about the “jüdische Schulmeinung” or “well known Jewish belief ” that the origins of the Messiah would not be known? Craig Keener’s commentary correctly notes that the Jewish tradition about the hidden Messiah “applies not to his original location but to his place of concealment just before making himself known publicly.”32 That is the case with Justin, and, in a different way, with the Rabbinic tale from Bavli Sanhedrin. That is not what John 7:27 says. So, the Jerusalemites in John are not saying what Trypho said, nor are they articulating the kinds of doubts that the Talmud contains about the human ability to know when the Son of David will come. The explicit claim of the Jerusalemites is that the origin, the “native place,” of the Messiah when he appears would be unknown. Trypho’s understanding was that the Messiah would not know that he was a Messiah until Elijah pointed it out to him. A legend of that sort may underlie some early Christian interpretations of Jesus’ baptism by John, or, more likely in my opinion, the statement by Trypho may simply be a Christian interpretation of the story of Jesus’ baptism.33 In any case, Trypho’s scenario that even the Messiah would not know that he is the Messiah is definitely not part of the Evangelist’s construal of Jesus. If the notion of a “hidden Messiah” lurks in the background, the Evangelist has reshaped it for his dramatic purposes by focusing on a point that the “hidden Messiah” motif does not highlight: the point of origins. In relating the Fourth Gospel to this tradition, instincts of Brown, Barrett, and other commentators are correct. The “Evangelist” is responsible for framing a motif that suits his narrative purpose; he is not simply recording Jewish tradition. So this little excursus offers a potential takeaway for our purposes in this conference: What the Evangelist does for elements of Jewish eschatological tradition, he also does
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for information about Jesus, whatever its source. And like the Rabbinic authors of Bavli Sanhedrin, he shapes things he inherits, often with a good bit of wit, to meet the needs of his dramatic tale.
More on the origins of Jesus So, let us return to the main menu, the quest for the “native land” or “fatherland” of Jesus. Whatever its background, the conversation among Jesus’ listeners in Jerusalem at John 7:26-27 establishes two things. The people of Jerusalem think they know where Jesus is from and they certainly know that the place where the Messiah comes from will be a mystery. Articulating this principle begins to shed some light on the ambiguities about the place of Jesus’ origin already encountered, but the Gospel will continue to tease out possibilities. Jesus’ immediate response at 7:28 makes the overarching Johannine theological position clear. Crying out loud (ἔκραξεν), he tells the crowds that they know him and where he is from (κἀμὲ οἴδατε καὶ οἴδατε πόθεν εἰμί). There is more than a hint of sarcasm here and the phrase might be read as a question: “So you know about me, do you?” He goes on: he did not come from himself (καὶ ἀπ’ ἐμαυτοῦ οὐκ ἐλήλυθ α). This remark too is laced with sarcasm; who apart from some figures in Gnostic cosmogonies “come from themselves”?34 Finally Jesus says, the Father who sent him is true and of that Father the crowd is ignorant (ἀλ λ’ ἔστιν ἀληθινὸς ὁ πέμψας με, ὃν ὑμεῖς οὐκ οἴδατε). In case his interlocutors did not get it the first time, Jesus restates the principle in v. 29 in positive terms: He knows the Father, he is from the Father, and it is the Father that sent him (ἐγὼ οἶδα αὐτόν, ὅτι παρ’ αὐτοῦ εἰμι κἀκεῖνός με ἀπέστει λεν). This is familiar Johannine territory. That Jesus is grounded in the very being of the Father has been a repeated theme of the Gospel (1:1, 14; 5:20, 26, 43), along with the claim that the Father sent him (3:16-17, 34; 5:23-24, 30, 37-38). Quite unlike Trypho’s hidden Messiah, Jesus knows who he is and where he is from and he constantly repeats this claim. His truest homeland is the Father’s heavenly home. Of this tale of origins the Jerusalemites, despite the testimony of Jesus, remain ignorant. At this point most readers savor the ironic twist in the encounter thus far. The crowds claim to know where Jesus is from, but because they, like Nicodemus, the Samaritan woman, and the well-fed disciples before them, are thinking only in earthly terms, they do not know what they think they know. The fact that they do not really know where the one who is the Messiah is from illustrates the truth of their apparently proverbial principle, carefully shaped for us by the Evangelist in v. 27.35 In their misperception of a theological claim, as in the case of the cynical Caiaphas (11:50), lurks what the Evangelist takes to be a profound truth. So far, so good, and so far so characteristic of the Gospel, and it is hardly a controversial point that this Gospel uses irony to make theological claims, but the story does not end at v. 29. Yet the simple historical question of what was Jesus’ native land remains open. Does the rest of the account provide any more information that modern historians might find valuable?
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The account of Jesus in Jerusalem at the luminous Feast of Tabernacles continues. His enemies seek to seize him, but it is not yet time (7:30). Some from the crowd believe in him; the Pharisees and high priests are worried (7:31-33). The suspense builds as Jesus bides his time before departing (7:34-36). On the last day of the festival, Jesus cries out once more and invites people to believe in him and become a source of living water (7:37-39), bringing into the mix another strand of Johannine symbolism.36 The Evangelist is not done with the question of Jesus’ origins. Jesus’ invitation leads to another round of contention on that topic (7:40-43). Some in the crowd respond thinking that he is “the prophet”; others “the Christ” (7:41). The next question that the people ask is particularly relevant to our current quest. At 7:41 they say, “The scripture does not say that the Messiah will come from Galilee, does it?” (μὴ γὰρ ἐκ τῆς Γαλιλαίας ὁ Χριστὸς ἔρχεται). The question, expecting a negative answer, confirms what the reader suspected, but what was not made explicit in v. 27, that the crowd believes that Jesus came from Galilee. But, birthers that they are, they then pose another question implying that a Galilean origin disqualifies Jesus from Messianic status. Their new question, unlike the first expects a positive answer: “Does not Scripture say that (the Messiah) must be of the lineage of David and be from David’s village, Bethlehem?” (7:42).37 There are two claims here that are supposed to have a scriptural foundation. The crowd could have cited many texts to support the Messiah’s Davidic descent, including 2 Sam 7:12-13; 22:51; Ps 18:50; Isa 11:1; Jer 33:15; Ps 89 (LXX 88):4-5; PssSol 17:4. The key issue, however, is the second claim, about the place from which the Messiah was supposed to come. The crowd no doubt found its information on this point in the same text, that Matthew cited, Mic 5:1. Had the Evangelist read Matthew or was he, and the crowd, simply familiar with a Jewish Messianic interpretation of Micah? We may never know. In any case, there was, says the narrator (v. 43), a “division” (σχίσμα) in the crowd, just as in the interpretative tradition over what the Evangelist is up to here. There are various ways to read the literary dynamics, the ironic narrative rhetoric, of this episode. Which way one chooses largely depends on the way in which the readers see the Evangelist playing with intertexts. The first possibility is that the Evangelist thinks that the tradition represented by Mark is correct. Jesus was a Galilean. The crowd, by assuming that the Messiah had to be born in Bethlehem, on the basis of Mic 5:1, showed their ignorance, on a natural level, of the origins of Jesus. Their factual ignorance matched the spiritual ignorance or blindness displayed in their unwillingness to admit Jesus’ claims about his heavenly origin. The second possibility is that the Evangelist thinks that the tradition represented by Matthew (and Luke), whether he knew that from Matthew and Luke or not, is correct. The crowd was wrong to assume that Jesus was a Galilean. Their assumption that the Messiah had to be born in Bethlehem, on the basis of Mic 5:1, was correct, but their unwillingness to entertain the possibility that the prophetic text was fulfilled in Jesus showed their ignorance, on a natural level, of his origins. Their factual ignorance matched the spiritual ignorance or blindness displayed in their unwillingness to admit Jesus’ claims about his heavenly origin. Another highly unlikely alternative is to reconcile the two options by finding a “Bethlehem” in Galilee. Bruce Chilton has proposed such a solution, focusing on the
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city of Bet Lahm about 10 kilometers west of Nazareth in the territory of the tribe of Zebulon (Josh 19:15).38 But that would not, of course, be a city of David. Some commentators defend the first possibility sketched above and see the Evangelist defending a traditional understanding about Jesus as a Galilean.39 Some further defend that as historically accurate. Lindars,40 for instance, finds more evidence of this belief in the citation of Isa 9:1 in Matt 4:15, which he takes to be an attempt to defend a Galilean origin for Jesus, although Matthew himself clearly finds scriptural warrant for Bethlehem as Jesus’ birthplace. Some commentators find it highly unlikely that the Evangelist is unaware of the Bethlehem tradition,41 and, defending the second position,42 see elaborate irony at work. Through the ignorance of his characters the Evangelist reveals important truths.43 What is a reader to make of the ambiguity here, particularly if that reader is familiar with other Gospels, as Richard Bauckham argues?44 One might, like Schnackenburg, remain undecided.45 Or perhaps, one might wonder whether the carefully structured ambiguity is itself a psychagogic device. When learned and insightful commentators divide so decidedly as they do on this point, when scholars of all stripes are hung to dry on a crux interpretum, it is time to step back and think about the ironic narrative rhetoric that confronts us in this text. Bauckham is probably right on the general principle: The Evangelist knows the Synoptics and presumes some awareness of what other Gospels say about Jesus in his narrative, although he also feels quite free to adapt and use Synoptic material in a fashion that serves his purpose. Wherever it came from, this passage (vv. 40–42) probably does exhibit knowledge not simply of Jewish expectations, but of the claim about Jesus made in Matthew and Luke that Jesus was born in Bethlehem. The prologue signals concern with the issue of where Jesus was from when it says that the story of Jesus is a tale of Jesus “coming to his own” and his own “not receiving him” (1:11). The tale of his rejection by those in Judaea, those from whom salvation is supposed to come (4:22), is particularly poignant. The plot describing that rejection reaches a preliminary climax at the end of the Feast of Tabernacles, although the rejection will become even more pronounced in what follows. Wherever Jesus was originally from, his rejection in Judaea is theologically significant. The Ioudaioi were “his own,” but is that because he was “from” Judaea? Perhaps, but can we be sure? The irony is indeed complex. The crowd is hopelessly confused about where Jesus is from. But the dialogue in this chapter does not enable the reader to discern definitely which of the competing traditions is correct. In the interaction of the text and its (implied) reader there is ironic play on knowledge and ignorance at work. That play sheds light on the ambiguity encountered at the end of chapter 4. The fact that Jesus, “a prophet,” as some Jerusalemites now describe him (7:40), is rejected in Judaea could lie behind the ambiguous application of the proverb about dishonored prophets in 4:44. But in chapter 7 Jesus is rejected by his Galilean brothers as much as by the fickle Judaean crowds. The interplay between the earlier saying and the elaborate irony of this chapter suggests that the insertion of the saying in chapter 4 is not a blunder but part of a larger narrative strategy, a strategy designed to keep the reader guessing. The Evangelist probably knows a tradition, probably the texts of Matthew and Luke, that the birth of Jesus took place in Judaea and uses it to good effect in his development
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of the theme of where Jesus was from. But, at the end of the day, he does not positively confirm that tradition. He does not provide a clear and definitive answer to the question of where Jesus is from in a physical sense. Instead, he invites readers of his Gospel who may come to it either with Markan or Matthean/Lukan presuppositions to put themselves in the position of the crowds in Jerusalem. He asks, “By embracing one or another claim about Jesus’ physical origin are you, like the believers on the Temple grounds, missing the basic point?” The historical fact does not, at the end of the day, matter. What counts is to recognize that Jesus was sent by the Father. His homeland, his Fatherland, his πάτρις, is his Father’s heavenly abode, which, in another twist of Johannine irony, will soon become an earthly abode (14:23). Why then does John play this ironic game with the theme of Jesus’ origins? Scoring a major Christological point is certainly part of the project, but is there aught else? Apologetics may be part of the picture. If the Evangelist knows not simply the alternative traditions that Jesus was from Galilee or from Judaea, but also knows the sources in which those traditions appear, Mark and Matthew/Luke, he may want to deflect criticism that those sources cannot both be correct by relativizing their factual claims. That move might be compatible with a serious concern for historical accuracy about Jesus. It simply constitutes a recognition that accuracy is not to be realized on this point. Yet scoring an apologetic point, however worthwhile it may be, is not engaging the reader in a dramatic way and so is probably not all that the Evangelist is doing. Another possibility is that he is making not simply a Christological claim, but also an important epistemological point. At one level he is juxtaposing two contradictory principles about the physical homeland of Jesus. Both cannot be correct; neither can be definitively affirmed. Hence the logical thing to do would be to suspend judgment on the matter. This is precisely the kind of argument that ancient Skeptics made about all sorts of claims of fact or metaphysics. Keener, commenting on 7:27, notes in passing the similarity to skeptical arguments, but does not make much of it as a principle that John is interested in following.46 What would overcome the skepticism is not historical fact, but divine revelation. Jesus himself provides that revelation, with the oft made claim of v. 28 that he is from the Father. If the Evangelist is making this kind of theoretical, epistemological point, he would not seem to be particularly interested in historical data for their own sake. The Evangelist is, however, engaging the reader in a rather dramatic fashion. The story does what a Socratic dialogue, the inspiration for the ancient Skeptics, regularly does. Despite its various ironic plays, the story excludes neither of the alternatives about where the Messiah is supposed to be from and what lineage he has. The unresolved tension leaves the reader in a state of aporia. She does not know of a certitude the right answer to the question or what precise bit of ironic reading she should favor. She is, remarkably enough, led to the same state as that of the Jerusalemites described in v. 26. To judge from the situation of the reader, those Jerusalemites were ironically correct even when they were wrong. Not only do they not know where Jesus is from on the physical level, neither does the reader, but that cloud of unknowing is, as the text insists, a sine qua non for a more profound knowledge. The complex, ironic story engages the reader and leads her, perhaps, to a moment of insight.
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There is at least one more strategic option that is worth considering, though I fear it has a similar result for historical reconstruction as did the first two. Where someone is “from” is not only a matter of Christology, it is also a matter of soteriology. It is something of concern to the audience of the Gospel. The principle that where one is “from” determines where one is going, what Lee Keck called the “of-ness principle,”47 is established in the dialogue with Nicodemus. That dialogue seems to promote a kind of determinist framework for thinking about soteriology. Yet the same chapter also establishes a counter-principle, that one can have a new point of departure, a birth ἄνωθεν, which seems to deny that origin is destiny. The Evangelist plays off the tension between these two principles throughout the first half of the Gospel, before finally suggesting a kind of resolution. One’s assent to or denial of the offer of relationship to God, a decision that reflects what one really loves, determines the outcome. Another essay has worked out the details of that conceptual play elsewhere and it need not be repeated here.48 It is important simply to keep in mind that the topic under discussion fits into a larger conceptual motif in the Gospel. The antithesis between Galilee and Judaea found in the opinions of the Jerusalemites about the expected origin of the Messiah is also a contrast that formally frames the first half of the Tabernacles story. The contrast is apparent at the start of the story when Jesus is located in Galilee, not wanting to go to hostile Judaea (7:1). The antithesis resurfaces in the final scene of chapter 7, where Nicodemus, the leading Pharisee last seen in chapter 3, reappears. Nicodemus returns to the scene as the high priests and Pharisees are consulting over what to do about Jesus (7:45-52). In a testy dialogue with their servants the leaders deny what the crowd had once suspected (7:26), that some of them believed in Jesus (7:48). Nicodemus then intervenes and reminds his colleagues that the Law requires that a suspect be heard from before being condemned (7:51). The leaders respond rather sarcastically, the standard tone for everyone in this chapter, and ask whether Nicodemus too is “from Galilee” (ἐκ τῆς Γαλιλαίας). They then tell him to go check the Scriptures and see that no prophet is expected to come from there, reinforcing the opinion of the crowd in v. 41.49 Irony again abounds, as it has throughout the chapter. The Jerusalem leadership may well be right on the literal level in their reference to Scripture. And they may also be right in the import of their sarcastic question. For all the ambiguity of his characterization,50 Nicodemus does seem to have some sympathy with Jesus, which will be manifest at the time of his death (19:39). As a member of the Jerusalem elite, he is obviously not physically “from Galilee,” but he is acting like the followers of Jesus who are. He is, in effect, in the process of having his point of origin, where he is “from,” reset. And if, at a deeper level, the sarcastic question of the leaders to Nicodemus is true, so too is their dismissive command to search the Scriptures. While the sacred texts will say nothing about a prophet coming from Galilee, that is not what Jesus really is. As the reader knows, he is the Son come from the Father. An Israelite in whom there is no guile might recognize that. Such a person might even be a Ioudaios in the fullest sense, one of Jesus’ own who does receive him. The development of the “where is he from” theme at the end of chapter 7 illuminates many things, including at least one use of the ever sticky term Ioudaios. The end of the chapter leaves Nicodemus in a very ambiguous position. Where will he wind up?
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Where will he finally be “from,” the reader might wonder. The play on theme of origin, of Jesus and of those whom he challenges to be his followers, leaves here a nagging doubt. In effect, it engages the reader or listener and draws her into the exploration of where she is from. Will she, like the Jesus of chapter 1, the original assumption of the crowd, and the assumption of the priestly and Pharisaic leaders, be “from Nazareth”? All might think nothing good can come from there, no prophet arise from there, but she knows better. Or will she, like the Son of David predicted in Mic 5:1, in Matthew, and on the lips of the crowd in v. 42, be “from Judaea,” where prophets and more, a more that includes “salvation,” come from? If she has been listening with half an ear open, she will know that in order to be from wherever Jesus is really from, what she needs to do is recognize him for who he is, the one from the Father. Where Jesus is from in John 7 is thus a riddle that functions as do other riddles in the Johannine drama, to engage a reader, enmesh him in reflection on claims about Jesus, expose his ignorance, and finally lead him to see the deepest truth about those claims, a truth which is not dependent on accidents of history.
Implications for the quest for historical data in John The Evangelist’s play on the question of Jesus’ physical origin runs as a skein through the Gospel’s elaborate tapestry, its arabesque. The Gospel does not present a clear and unambiguous picture about where Jesus might have called home. It challenges those who make such claims. Like the drama that it tries to be, the Gospel engages its audience and provokes them to think anew about the one in whom they believe. It asks them whether their belief is focused on the essential truth about Jesus or about some irrelevant physical fact. This is the kind of literary project that the Gospel presents, a sophisticated exercise designed to stimulate reflection and deepen belief. The Gospel may well have historical facts scattered on its pages, but it is not primarily interested in building a case on those facts. The foundation for its theological structure is an encounter with the contemporary reality of the Resurrected Christ, not a collection of artifacts from the past. Any attempt to uncover historical data from the Gospel that does not take its literary character into account stands in danger of being dramatically led astray. The first question to ask about any possible bit of data is what role it plays in the Evangelist’s dramatic program. My understanding of how John works as dramatic narrative with a psychogogical program offers a different approach to the question of historicity than what is articulated in some studies of the historical Jesus. Take for example the working hypothesis of Ben Meyer: “If the intention of the writer can be defined to include factuality and if the writer is plausibly knowledgeable on the matter and free of the suspicion of fraud, historicity may be inferred.”51 The principle is cited by Jonathan Bernier in his study of the “aposynagogos” passages, which argues for their reliability as a window into the situation of the historical Jesus.52 What social reality those passages reflect is a topic for another day. What is of interest is the principle articulated by Meyer and Bernier. Their approach to the historical value of a text such the Fourth Gospel is much too simpliste. Including factuality may be part of an author’s program, but an author can
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do many things with the facts that he knows or thinks he knows or that he thinks his readers may presuppose. More importantly, a simple binary of “avoiding fraud” and “historicity” excludes a range of ways in which an author can use information or supposed information to lead a reader to a desired outcome, in the case of this Gospel, to encounter the One from the Father, not in the past, but here and now.
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How and in What Ways Does John’s Rhetoric Reflect Jesus’ Rhetoric? George L. Parsenios
The title I have been given for this chapter is an eminently well-crafted and straightforward question, and it provides an admirably clear point of entry to the concerns of our gathering. The question is, “How and in What Ways Does John’s Rhetoric Reflect Jesus’ Rhetoric?” To answer this question, I will proceed in two phases. First, I will suggest that John is not unaware of the question here posed. By relying on certain narrative and rhetorical devices, the Gospel of John implies that when we read John, we are listening directly to Jesus. John, in this sense, wants us to believe that the rhetoric of the Fourth Gospel is an unmediated presentation of the rhetoric of Jesus. Second, I will more directly address the question posed to me, by showing two ways in which the rhetoric of the Fourth Gospel relates to the rhetoric of Jesus.1 Before I can proceed, however, I would like to recognize a preliminary matter that deserves consideration. To compare the rhetoric of John and the rhetoric of the historical Jesus is not to compare like with like. My situation is the same as that of someone comparing the twenty-eighth edition of the Nestle-Aland New Testament to Codex Sinaiticus. One item of comparison, the Gospel of John (like Sinaiticus), is an actual historical artifact. The other item, the historical Jesus (like the Nestle-Aland text), is a scholarly construct. This circumstance presents a problem for comparison, but recent scholarly work helps to transcend the problem. The latest trends in both Jesus Research and in textual criticism recognize the difficulty of searching for either an “original text” of the New Testament or for a concrete and certain portrait of Jesus, based on criteria of authenticity.2 Especially helpful and suggestive is the work of those scholars who focus their historical reconstructions not so much on specific details (e.g., “Did Jesus say this or that specific word on the cross?”) and more on broad strokes and general issues (e.g., “Did Jesus go to his death willingly or unwilling?”).3 The discussion of rhetoric that follows will, therefore, pay attention to broad and general issues of rhetoric and style, and not to specific sayings of Jesus in John.
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The silent narrator in John, Thucydides, and Plato With this preliminary matter addressed, I will argue that John is aware of the problem addressed in this chapter, that is, whether or not the rhetoric of the Fourth Gospel is, in fact, the rhetoric of the historical Jesus. The presence of the device I will discuss here suggests that John wanted us to think it was. John wants us to think that we are listening directly to Jesus. This effect is accomplished, though, not so much by a particular manner of speaking, but rather, by a particular way of creating silence. In a few key places, the Johannine narrator is silent, and this silence creates space for readers to have direct access to the speech of Jesus. We have at least the impression that we are encountering the rhetoric of Jesus. To understand how this works, we need to look more closely at the silence of the Johannine narrator. The first place where the Johannine narrator recedes from view is in John 1, in the interrogation of John the Baptist by those sent from Jerusalem. The passage is presented here with the introductory comments of the Evangelist in italics, in order to emphasize the brief moment when the narrator temporarily recedes. The passage reads as follows (1:19-22)4: He confessed and did not deny it, but confessed, “I am not the Messiah.” And they asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the prophet?” He answered, “No.” Then they said to him, “Who are you?”
Almost every question asked, and every answer given is introduced by a narrator’s framing comment such as: “He confessed and did not deny it,” or “and they asked him,” or “he said.” No such introductory comment however is made for the question, “Are you the prophet.” As soon as John answers, “I am not” to the previous line, the question “Are you the prophet?” comes rapidly—so rapidly that the narrator disappears, and for a brief moment, John and his interrogators are speaking directly to one another as though in a drama, with no intervention from the narrator. The effect on the readers is to place them directly in the presence of the speakers. We are “there.” The point of this effort is defined nicely by David Aune, when he distinguishes the histories written by authors like Thucydides from other types of historical writing, like chronographies. Aune writes: History proper is a unique historiographical genre since it is mimetic, i.e., it attempts to dramatize and interpret the memorable actions of people in time. The other four types described above collected and reported data without interpretation or dramatization. The historian, on the other hand, created the illusion that he was an observer of the events he depicts.5
I would like to suggest that the device of removing the narrator not only creates the illusion that the historian is an observer of the events, but that the reader is an observer
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as well. Thus, in John 1, the reader is made to feel like an eyewitness to the conversation between John and those sent from Jerusalem. The same thing occurs in John 14, when Jesus announces, “Arise, let us go forth,” but then we are not given any “stage directions” by the narrator. Jesus announces a departure that he does not take. Another example of the silent narrator, with similar effect, appears in the contested and confusing case of John 3. The reader struggles to understand who speaks in these verses of 3:31-36. The last mentioned speaker is John the Baptist, who is identified at 3:27, and his words clearly extend to 3:30, where he says, “He must increase, while I must decrease.” Some interpreters believe, therefore, that the Baptist continues speaking in verses 3:31-36, which reads as follows: The one who comes from above is above all; the one who is of the earth belongs to the earth and speaks about earthly things. The one who comes from heaven is above all. He testifies to what he has seen and heard, yet no one accepts his testimony. Whoever has accepted his testimony has certified this, that God is true. He whom God has sent speaks the words of God, for he gives the Spirit without measure. The Father loves the Son and has placed all things in his hands. Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life; whoever disobeys the Son will not see life, but must endure God’s wrath.
If these are the words of the Baptist, then he is setting up a distinction between himself and Jesus, in order to explain why Jesus must increase, while the Baptist decreases. As Barrett writes in regard to 3:31: “This verse carries on the thought of vv. 22-30—Jesus and John are now contrasted as ‘He that is from above’ and ‘He that is of the earth.’”6 The gravest difficulty with such a reading is that the sentiments expressed in 3:31-36 sound exactly like the words of Jesus, not the Baptist. Brown writes, for example: An even stronger case can be made for Jesus as the speaker. . . . Amid all these theories it should be clearly observed that the discourses in vv. 31-36 resemble closely the style of speech attributed to Jesus in the Gospel, and in particular it has close parallels in Jesus’ words to Nicodemus.7
In this way of reading, Jesus resumes speaking, as he had been doing prior to the words of John, but the narrator gives no notice of the change. And that last matter is the key: if Jesus is here speaking, then the reason for the confusion among interpreters is the fact that the Evangelist gives no notice of a shift back to Jesus. The narrator is silent—again. Following Aune, I would suggest that the effect of these efforts is to render the reader of the Fourth Gospel an eyewitness of the ministry of Jesus. Thucydides does precisely what John does in two famous dialogues, which I have discussed elsewhere, but which I mention here in order to show that John is not alone in suddenly rendering silent his narrator.8 Plato’s Theaetetus does the same thing. This dialogue is a particularly rich place to discuss the relevant issues, since it opens with a conversation between Euclid and Terpsion, with Euclid explaining how he came to record the conversation between Socrates and Theaetetus, even though he had not been present. He heard it described by Socrates, wrote it down, and then corrected his text later by further conversation
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with Socrates. The interesting fact is that he does not merely transcribe what Socrates tells him. He says, rather (143C): Now this is the way I wrote the conversation: I did not represent Socrates relating it to me as he did, but conversing with those with whom he told me he conversed. And he told me they were the geometrician Theodoras and Theaetetus. Now in order that the explanatory words between the speeches might not be annoying in the written account, such as “and I said” or “and I remarked,” whenever Socrates spoke, or “he agreed” or “he did not agree,” in the case of the interlocutor, I omitted all that sort of thing and represented Socrates himself as talking with them. (Trans. H. N. Fowler, LCL)
Commenting on this reality, the Duke classicist Diskin Clay has written: “In the Theaetetus, the editorial suppression of narrative links creates the illusion of dramatic immediacy.”9 Dramatic immediacy causes the readers to feel as though they are in the presence of the original speakers. The first part of my argument, therefore, is simply to say that John was aware of the desire to replicate the experience of hearing the historical Jesus. John wanted readers to feel as though they were overhearing direct conversations in real time.
The Johannine Jesus and the historical Jesus: Aphorism in rhetoric The second concern of my argument is to show that the Johannine Jesus, in discernible ways, speaks in the manner of the historical Jesus. I will show this in two different ways. First, the Johannine Jesus speaks in pointed epigrams and aphorisms that closely resemble the rhetoric of the historical Jesus. That he spoke in aphorisms seems to be one of the most certain aspects of Jesus’ ministry, finding assent from people who otherwise disagree considerably about the character of the historical Jesus. Marcus Borg, for instance, insists, The earliest forms of the parables and aphorisms are . . . the bedrock of the Jesus tradition. It is striking that the most certain thing we know about Jesus is that he was a speaker of great one-liners and a teller of stories.10
When Burton Mack excavated what he considered the most primitive traditions about Jesus in his book A Myth of Innocence, he argues that the earliest traditions about Jesus are sapiential traditions, including especially parables and aphorisms.11 All of this is part of his effort to paint a portrait of Jesus as something like a Cynic sage. But others, who see Jesus not as a Cynic sage but as an apocalyptic teacher, also see him as an aphorist. Dale Allison, for example, argues that Jesus should be understood as being much more than an aphorist, and yet he recognizes that Jesus is at least an aphorist.12 And this is where the issue begins. If it is clear that Jesus is an aphorist, it has often
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been just as clear to many scholars that this fact distances the historical Jesus from the Johannine Jesus. John Robinson writes, Yet clearly there are obvious differences in the form of Jesus’ teaching in the Synoptists and in John, so much so that doubt is often cast on whether one man could have given both. In the Synoptists the teaching is contained in separate poetic oracles, parables and apophthegms, in John in connected argument and dialogue.13
Allison quotes a similar opinion from Robert W. Funk, who says, Aphorisms and parables do not lend themselves to long speeches. By definition the sage is a person of few words. Accordingly, Jesus probably did not collect his sayings into extended discourses such as we find in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7) or in the Gospel of John.14
Where Robinson and Funk establish a sharp distinction between John and the rest of the Jesus tradition on this point, Allison has argued that the distinction is not so great. He has argued that the Synoptics are not so reliant on disconnected parables and aphorisms. Allison does not follow Funk, for instance, in separating the Sermon on the Mount from Jesus’ ministry, and he sees in the Synoptic portraits of Jesus, and in the rhetoric of the historical Jesus, a tendency toward connected arguments set around particular themes. In this way, Allison shows that John and the Synoptics (and by extension, the historical Jesus) are not so sharply different. I would like to argue from the other direction.15 My concern is not to show that the discourses of Jesus are more like John than Robinson imagines. I would like to argue that John is more aphoristic than Robinson imagines. The end goal is the same: to show that the rhetoric of the Johannine Jesus is not so distant from the rhetoric of the historical Jesus. Greek and Roman authors had been reflecting on rhetorical aphorisms and gnomic speech long before the ministry of Jesus or the production of the Gospel of John, but special attention was given to rhetorical sententiae in the early Roman Empire. A sententia (gnōmē) is a maxim that expresses some broadly held truth in a pithy, pointed style, such as the comment of Shakespeare’s Polonius, “Neither a borrower nor a lender be” (Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 3). Equally famous, and even more appropriate to our discussion, is Kipling’s phrase “East is East and West is West, and never the twain shall meet.”16 John’s Gospel does something similar to Kipling. We will see below that this similarity is not total, and that John is also very different from Kipling, but for now it will be helpful to focus on similarity. Very much like Kipling’s insistence that East is East and West is West is the comment of Jesus to Nicodemus: “That born from flesh is flesh, and that born from Spirit is Spirit” (3:6). The immediately preceding verse has already informed us that one born of flesh cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven (3:5), or, to return again to Kipling’s language: “Never the twain shall meet.” The connection to Kipling here is more than stylistic. No less than Kipling’s maxims, Jesus’ sententiae in the Nicodemus dialogue provide a rhetorical expression of division. While Kipling illustrates the divisions between England and her Eastern imperial holdings, the
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Fourth Gospel describes the divisions between people of the flesh and people of the Spirit, those “from above” and those “from below” (3:31). This rhetorical device was common in antiquity. Long before John wrote, Aristotle had introduced social distinctions into his discussion of gnōmē in various ways. Aristotle writes, The maxim, as has been already said, is a general statement and people love to hear stated in general terms what they already believe in some particular connection: e.g. if a man happens to have bad neighbors or bad children, he will agree with anyone who tells him, “Nothing is more annoying than having neighbours,” or, “Nothing is more foolish than to be the parent of children.” The orator has therefore to guess the subjects on which his hearers really hold views already, and what those views are, and then must express, as general truths, these same views on these same subjects. (Rhetoric 2.21.15, 1395b)17
Centuries after Aristotle, Tacitus (56–117 CE) does something similar with gnomic sententiae, and Tacitus’ work provides interesting parallels to what we see in John. In his recent monograph Tacitus the Sententious Historian, Patrick Sinclair has coined the elegant phrase, “Sententiae speak to those who understand.”18 The phrase neatly defines Sinclair’s approach to Tacitus, which is centered on the social function of sententiae, and especially on their power to draw social boundaries and make social connections between author and audience. Tacitus uses maxims to connect with his implied reader and to forge a common bond as he and his readers survey together the sweep of Roman history. Because I have discussed this matter at length elsewhere, I will here provide only one example of Tacitus’ technique—a comment in which he separates Romans from Jews. He writes (Hist. 5.4.1): “The Jews regard as profane all that we (nos) hold sacred, and yet permit all that we (nobis) abhor.”19 The rhetoric of John regularly relies on such sententiae to express the paradoxes and antitheses of its theological vision. The same separation that Tacitus effects between Romans and Jews is present in the verse already cited above from John 3: “That born from flesh is flesh, and that born from Spirit is Spirit” (3:6). But the gnomic style is a Johannine hallmark. In his Farewell Discourses, for example, Jesus announces, “Servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them” (13:16). He later adds, “No one has greater love than to lay down his life for his friends” (15:13).20 Such a style is especially appropriate for discussing Johannine paradoxes, such as achieving life only through death: “Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life” (12:2425).The final line quoted here (12:25) relies also on paronomasia, where the paradox that death leads to life is extended by a shift from earthly life to eternal life. Equally paronomastic is the play on the word pneuma in John 3: “The wind (pneuma) blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit (pneumatos)” (3:8). Other antithetical sententiae are personal references to Jesus, who regularly says such things as “You will search for me, but you will not find me; where I am, you cannot come” (7:33-34), and, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe”
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(20:29). This aphoristic, sententious style is a hallmark of the historical Jesus’ style of speech and is also present in the speech of the Johannine Jesus. In that sense, the rhetoric of the Johannine Jesus resembles the rhetoric of the historical Jesus. In focusing on Johannine aphorisms, I have argued somewhat differently than Linda Bridges does in a recent essay.21 Her intention was to show that John 4:35b (“I tell you, lift up your eyes, and see how the fields are already white for the harvest”) satisfies the various criteria of authenticity typically applied to the sayings of Jesus by some historical-Jesus scholars. Having demonstrated this, she argues that this aphorism of the Johannine Jesus can be believed to extend back to the historical Jesus. My concern, as I argued above, though, is not to show that this or that individual saying from the Gospel of John has its origins in the ministry of Jesus, but rather to argue that the style of the Johannine Jesus is consistent with the style of the historical Jesus. The Johannine Jesus speaks in a pointed and epigrammatic style that is thoroughly consistent with the style of the historical Jesus, and does so not in any individual saying but broadly speaking throughout the Fourth Gospel.
The Johannine Jesus and the historical Jesus: Rhetoric varies with audience A second main point of contact between the rhetoric of the Johannine Jesus and the rhetoric of the historical Jesus is the variability that both show in speaking differently to different audiences. This practice grounds both voices of Jesus—the Johannine and the historical—in the most basic canon of rhetoric as it has been enshrined in Aristotle. Aristotle defines rhetoric as a unique area of inquiry because it does not possess any content of its own. It is, rather, applicable to the content of any subject of study. He writes, Let rhetoric be defined as an ability, in each particular case, to see the available means of persuasion. This is the function of no other art, for each of the others is instructive and persuasive about its own subject: for example, medicine about health and disease, and geometry about the properties of magnitudes, and arithmetic about numbers and similarly in the case of the other arts and sciences. But rhetoric seems to be able to observe the persuasive about “the given,” so to speak. That, too, is why we say it does not include technical knowledge of any particular, defined genus of subjects. (Rhetoric 1.2.1 [1355b])
Because the same means of persuasion does not find success in every realm of human life, new discourse must be developed in order to meet new people in new settings. This is an obvious point, but one that requires emphasis at this point, since such variability is a principle point of contact between the rhetoric of the Fourth Gospel and the rhetoric of the historical Jesus. When Aristotle proceeds to define the ways in which rhetoric is applied differently to different situations, he focuses, of course, on the three main species of rhetoric: The deliberative rhetoric appropriate to the public assemblies, the forensic rhetoric of the courts of law, and the epideictic rhetoric of public displays, such as in funeral orations, and so on (Rhetoric 1.3, 1358b). These categories require
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no further explanation. What they demonstrate is that rhetoric is defined by its social contexts, and when the context changes, so must the style of rhetoric. This principle is carefully observed by the Johannine Jesus. Jesus speaks differently to different people. Most obviously, Jesus speaks one way to his opponents, and another to his disciples. To his opponents, he speaks as Jesus Agonistes, while to his disciples he speaks as Christus Consolator. Jesus Agonistes appears most plainly in chapters 5–12 of the Book of Signs, while Christus Consolator is most apparent in John 13–17. The difference between Jesus talking to his opponents in John 5–12, and Jesus speaking privately to his disciples in John 13–17 is obvious on several levels, even on the level of vocabulary. Dodd insightfully showed decades ago that the key vocabulary of John shifts as we move from the Book of Signs to the Book of Glory. In the earlier chapters of John, nouns and verbs related to life, light, and darkness appear eighty-two times, but only six times in the Farewell Discourse, while terms related to love appear thirty-one times in the Farwell Discourses, and only six times in chapters 1–12.22 The tone of the discourse obviously changes. This change in tone is even more apparent on the level of styles of argumentation, or what we might more strictly call “rhetoric.” When Jesus speaks to his opponents in chapters 5–12, for example, he has been shown to rely on the legally charged rhetoric of Deutero-Isaiah to conduct a forensic debate with Israel, employing terms like judgment, testimony, and so on.23 The legal language Jesus employs also seems closely connected to Greek and Roman forensic rhetoric.24 By contrast, the rhetoric of Jesus in the Farewell Discourses is not the rhetoric of the litigant but of the shepherd, guiding his flock. The forensic tone has become epideictic as Jesus consoles his followers on the eve of his departure.25 But the way to see the shift in Jesus’ posture most clearly is to see how common words are used in different ways, especially a word like parrēsia, frankness of speech. The term appears in several places in the Fourth Gospel, and I believe its two broad usages are useful for the present argument. When directed against his opponents, the term refers to Jesus’ agonistic posture, but with his disciples, it refers to his pastoral care. This is precisely how the term was normally used in contemporary discussion. Ancient thinkers consider boldness to be appropriate in two different contexts: in the presence of friends and in the presence of foes. Isocrates, for example, defines parrēsia as a “privilege which is openly granted to friends (philois) to rebuke, and to enemies to attack each others’ faults (amartiais).”26 The second century Epicurean Philodemus defines two similar social settings for bold speech, one in which parrēsia is directed “toward all people,” and another in which it is oriented “toward one’s intimate associates.”27 The bold speech of Jesus is separated into similar categories, since he tells the High Priest that he spoke boldly (parrēsia) before the world in his public ministry (18:20; see also 7:26; 10:24; 11:14; 11:54), and he also speaks with parrēsia (16:25) privately with his disciples, whom he calls his friends (philoi; 15:13, 14). Jesus divides his bold speech into two categories (one more public, in which there is conflict, and one more intimate, among friends) and these two categories reproduce the categories of Isocrates and Philodemus. When Jesus describes his ministry before the High Priest, he says (18:20): I have spoken openly (parrēsia) to the world. I always taught in synagogues or at the Temple, where all the Jews come together. I said nothing in secret (en kryptō).
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Jesus thus characterizes his entire ministry as being infused with frank speech. Throughout the section ranging from chapters 7 to 11, Jesus speaks (7:26; 10:24; 11:14; 18:20)28 and walks (11:54)29 among the people of Israel in a bold posture of parrēsia. He is accused at 10:24 of not speaking with parrēsia, when he is asked: “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us frankly (parrēsia),” but he quickly responds by saying: “I have told you, and you do not believe” (10:25). The problem is theirs, not his. He has not failed to speak boldly. They have failed to understand him when he did.30 But if this is how Jesus speaks to his opponents, he speaks with equal parrēsia to his friends. But it is a parrēsia of a different type. If philosophers discuss the exercise of frank speech in the presence of “all people” in general, and even among enemies, they devote even more attention to the place of parrēsia among friends (philoi). The context of friendship is the second social setting for bold speech described in the comments of Isocrates and Philodemus. Frank speech and friendship are natural and constant companions. Plutarch says of frank speech that it is a “most potent medicine in friendship (philia).”31 According to Philo, frank speech, is not only “akin to friendship” (Her. 19, 21) but even “the language of friendship” (Migr.). The Epicurean Philodemus writes, “A wise man will employ frankness (parrēsia) toward his friends (philous),”32 where the “friends” are one’s fellow followers of the teachings of Epicurus. Frankness is such a valued part of friendship, because friends want nothing but the best for each other. Friends do not hide the truth from one another, since to do so would lead to the corruption of a beloved companion. Friendship, in other words, does not lead one to avoid telling harsh truths. Friendship compels one to do so—with parrēsia. As Jesus draws his Farewell Discourses to a close, he speaks boldly in the community of his disciples, whom he has already called his friends (philoi; 15:13, 14). He now refers again to the philia that he shares with his disciples, and places this relationship in the context of frank speech as follows (16:25-27): I have said these things to you in figures of speech (paroimiais). The hour is coming when I will no longer speak to you in figures (paroimiais), but will tell you plainly (parrēsia) of the Father. On that day you will ask in my name. I do not say to you that I will ask the Father on your behalf; for the Father himself loves (philei) you, because you have loved me (pephilēkate) and have believed that I came from God.
The disciples respond by using the same alternation between speaking boldly and speaking in figures. They say: “Yes, now you are speaking plainly (parrēsia), not in any figure of speech (paroimian)! Now we know that you know all things, and do not need to have anyone question you; by this we believe that you came from God.” Jesus answered them: “Do you now believe? The hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, each one to his home, and you will leave me alone. Yet, I am not alone because the Father is with me. I have said this to you, so that in me you may have peace. In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world!” (16:29-33)
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A key element in philosophical discussions of bold speech is also present in Jesus’ comment here.33 Jesus shatters the confidence of his disciples by boldly and frankly predicting the pain and suffering that is about to befall them. They will scatter and be hated by the world (16:32). This is bold speech among friends. Jesus has hidden nothing from his friends, but tells them openly what dangers await them. The opposite of such bold speech, of course, is flattery, not only in important texts like Plutarch’s How to Tell a Flatterer from a Friend, and Philodemus’ On Frank Speech, but among the ancient philosophers in general. John Chrysostom insists that Jesus’ prediction of suffering here demonstrates precisely that Jesus is not a flatterer. Interpreting this verse, Chrysostom speaks in the voice of Jesus as follows: For, you will not be able to say that to flatter you I said only those things that would win your favor, or that my words were those of a deceiver. Indeed, if anyone were going to deceive you, he would not make predictions of this kind to you, since they are apt to influence you to change your purpose.34
And yet, Jesus does not leave the disciples lost in a sea of anxiety and suffering. He reminds them that suffering is not the end of their story when he announces: “In this world you have trouble, but take heart, I have overcome the world” (16:33). He has spoken to them boldly about their difficult future, and yet now softens the message with a statement of encouragement. A long quotation from Plutarch will show how closely this procedure embodies the bold speech of the philosophers. Plutarch writes: Since, then, as has been said, frankness, from its very nature, is oftentimes painful to the person to whom it is applied, there is need to follow the example of the physicians; for they, in surgical operation, do not leave the part that has been operated upon in its suffering and pain, but treat it with soothing lotions and fomentations; nor do persons that use admonition with skill simply apply its bitterness and sting, and then run away; but by further converse and gentle words they mollify and assuage, even as stonecutters smooth and polish the portions of statues that have been previously hammered. (How to Tell a Flatterer from a Friend, 47D)
To sum up briefly, the forensic rhetoric of Jesus Agonistes is reflected in the boldness that Jesus shows toward his opponents, while the consolatory epideictic rhetoric of Christus Consolator is reflected in the very different boldness that Jesus shows toward his disciples. The term parrēsia implies two very different postures of Jesus, depending on his interlocutors. Jesus wisely speaks differently to different people. The same point is important to keep in mind when coming to grips with the historical Jesus. This can be demonstrated most briefly if we consider Dale Allison’s response to James Robinson on the question of Jesus’ “fearsome sayings about judgment.”35 Robinson discerns a tension between two different types of sayings in Q material. Some sayings, like the Sermon on the Plain (6:27-49), the Lord’s Prayer (11:9-13), and the statement on care (12:22-31) where Jesus says, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will
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put on. Instead, seek his Kingdom, and these things will be added to you,” represent a positive, optimistic Jesus, whom Robinson feels is incompatible with the Jesus on judgment like 3:8: “Bear fruits in keeping with repentance. And do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ For I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham.” Similar sayings are in 11:49-51; 13:28-29, 34-35. To Robinson, these two types of sayings are incompatible, and the earlier more positive sayings represent a more primitive form of the tradition, which is therefore more authentically related to Jesus, while the sayings on judgment show more influence from later redaction by Jesus’ followers. In response to this assessment, Allison posits multiple audiences for Jesus’ sayings, claiming that Jesus did not speak in the same way to all people. He compares Jesus to Paul, and recognizes that the same Paul wrote the aggressive Letter to the Galatians, and the consolatory Letter to the Philippians. The same reality is present in the ministry of Isaiah, who spoke woes upon Assyria (31:8-9), but spoke differently toward Israel (9:1-7). By positing a similar distinction of audiences in the case of Jesus, Allison concludes: By reflecting upon the issue of audience, I have not established the authenticity of any of the Q sayings that Robinson assigns to the community. I have rather done something much easier, which is to make a point about rhetoric. Robinson’s argument is weaker than it first appears once we take into account the varied nature of Jesus’ audiences. A resourceful Jesus, we may think, spoke differently to his disciples than to the crowds, and differently to the crowds than to his opponents.
I submit that this same distinction applies with equal clarity to the Jesus of the Gospel of John, and affirm that, in at least this one sense, the rhetoric of Jesus in John reproduces the rhetoric of the historical Jesus.
Part Three
Johannine Relationships to Early Traditions, Josephus, and Archaeological Data
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The First Edition of John’s Gospel in Light of Archaeology and Contemporary Literature Urban C. von Wahlde
Traditionally, the Gospel of John has been looked upon as the “spiritual” Gospel, having little to contribute to the study of the historical Jesus. However, in recent years there has been a renewed interest in the Gospel as a possible source of historical information regarding the ministry of Jesus.1 The present study hopes to contribute to that work. The purpose of this present study is limited. Its purpose is to examine the earliest literary stratum of the Gospel of John to determine the verisimilitude, if not the historicity, of the material in that stratum. The examination will attempt to determine to what extent the various features of this early material reflect accurately historical circumstances at the time of the ministry of Jesus as described by the historian Flavius Josephus. The second purpose of the current analysis will be to show that this material (a) contains almost all of the significant references to customs, feasts, and topographical references in the Gospel and (b) to verify that these references are accurate and reflect the circumstances at the time of the ministry of Jesus. In the study of figures and movements in Josephus, I am concerned with verisimilitude. Does a reading of relevant material in Josephus help us to understand the context and circumstances of Jesus and his “movement” more fully? To what extent is the presentation of Jesus in the material of the Gospel’s first edition plausible in the light of what we know from Josephus’ accounts of the period? In the attention given to topography, customs, and other details unique to the Gospel of John, I am concerned with verification. There is much in the Gospel that is unique to the Gospel of John and in fact almost all of it occurs in the material of the first edition. Is this information verifiably accurate? It is regularly noticed that the ministry of Jesus of Nazareth took place during a tumultuous period in Jewish history. Such disturbances began in the years following the death of Herod the Great in 4 BCE and continued sporadically into the eighth decade of the Common Era, in the years leading up to and including the Jewish Revolt against Rome. During these periods, there were a number of individuals who claimed to be leaders of various sorts, including the traditional categories of king and prophet, and who led movements that were significant enough to be mentioned by the Jewish
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historian Josephus. I will examine these accounts and then compare them with similar elements in the portrayal of the ministry of Jesus in the first edition of the Gospel of John. While the choice of the accounts mentioned by Josephus requires no explanation for their inclusion, it is important to say something of the choice of material from the Gospel of John. In a commentary published in 2010,2 I proposed by means of detailed analysis of the Gospel that it had gone through three “editions” in reaching its final form. The purpose of the present study is to determine the accuracy and verisimilitude of the material in the earliest stratum of the Gospel. As we shall see, an additional benefit of the study is that it shows that the various types of features examined in this study appear only in this earliest material, thus providing another indication that the identification of the material of the earliest stratum is correct. We will begin with a survey of the more important movements during this period as recounted by Josephus.
Kingly, messianic, and prophetic figures in Josephus in the first century CE3 In the years following the death of Herod the Great there was considerable turmoil in Israel. Josephus mentions four figures or groups that were particularly disruptive during this period. Josephus begins his account with the comment that during this period: “The country also, in various districts, was a prey to disorder, and the opportunity induced numbers of persons to aspire to sovereignty” (J.W. 2.4.1 §343-45).4 The first group that Josephus lists is an army of 2,000 of Herod’s veterans. Josephus says little except that a group of Herod’s veterans in Idumea revolted against those who remained loyal to the office of the king. They were opposed by Achiab, the king’s cousin, but nothing more is said of the events or results of this revolt (J.W. 2.4.1). Second, Josephus lists Judas, son of Hezekiah (4 BCE). Judas begins his movement in Sepphoris, in Galilee, in the wake of the death of Herod and the absence of his son Archelaus, who was on his way to Rome to meet with Caesar. Judas was the son of Hezekiah, who is described as having been a “brigand-chief ” (archilēstēs) subdued earlier by Herod. Judas took up royal armament but was primarily intent on attacking other such leaders who aspired to kingship. He is described thus: “At Sepphoris in Galilee Judas, son of Ezechias, the brigand-chief who in former days infested the country and was subdued by King Herod, raised a considerable body of followers, broke open the royal arsenals, and, having armed his companions, attacked the other aspirants to power” (J.W. 2.4.1 §345). The third bandit leader mentioned by Josephus in this context is Simon (c. 4 BCE). He was active in Perea, and is described as “one of the royal slaves.” He also desired to be king. He traveled throughout the country together with the “brigands” (lēstai) whom he had collected. He was known chiefly for his destruction of the royal palace at Jericho “and many other stately mansions” (J.W. 2.4.2 §345). He was eventually confronted by the Roman prefect Valerius Gratus and beheaded while trying to escape.
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The fourth revolutionary mentioned by Josephus is Athronges (4 BCE). He is described as “a mere shepherd” (poimēn tis) who dared to become king.5 He had four brothers, and, “to each of these he entrusted an armed band and employed them as general and satraps for his raids, while he himself, like a king, handled matters of graver moment. . . . Their principal object was to kill Romans and royalists, but no Jew, from whom they had anything to gain, escaped, if he fell into their hands. . . . These men were making the whole of Judea one scene of guerilla warfare” (J.W. 2.4.3 §347). Athronges himself was captured by Archelaus and three of his brothers were captured by Gratus and Ptolemy. The fifth person mentioned by Josephus became active about the year 6 CE. His name was Judas, the Galilean. He is reported by Josephus to have been the leader of the “Fourth Philosophy.” These persons were said to be similar to the Pharisees except that they had “a passion for liberty that is almost unconquerable, since they are convinced that God alone is their leader and master. They think little of submitting to death in unusual forms and permitting vengeance to fall on kinsmen and friends if only they may avoid calling any man master. Inasmuch as most people have seen the steadfastness of their resolution amid such circumstances, I may forgo any further account” (Ant. 18.1.6 §21-23).6 Twice elsewhere Judas is listed by Josephus as having upbraided his countrymen “for consenting to pay tribute to the Romans and tolerating mortal masters, after having God for their Lord” (J.W. 2.8.1 §369; cf. J.W. 2.17.8 §493). This movement is notably different from the previous ones. They could perhaps be best described as engaged in nonviolent resistance. Moreover, their motivation seems to be primarily religious in that they were willing to die for the belief that their only master was God and that the Romans had no right to any power over them. In this respect, the “Fourth Philosophy” was quite different from any of these other movements. We now come to the period of time extending from the time of Jesus up to the time of the Jewish Revolt against Rome. It is noteworthy that the individuals mentioned during this period made claims to be figures with religious associations such as “prophet.” All but one of them had military aspirations. The sixth individual mentioned by Josephus as an insurrectionist is an individual only described as the Samaritan Prophet. In 36 CE, this man who had been active in various ways, attempting to gather a following among the common people, convinced a large number to go with him to Mt. Gerizim, the holy mountain in Samaria, promising that he would reveal the “sacred vessels” that had been hidden there by Moses. For reasons that are not clear from the text of Josephus, the mob is said to have followed him in arms. However, the Roman prefect Pontius Pilate met them at the base of the mountain together with cavalry and infantry and killed many and put the others to flight. Pilate took a large number of them as captives and put to death the leaders and those who were likely to become leaders. For a man who made light of mendacity and in all his designs catered to the mob, rallied them, bidding them go in a body with him to Mount Gerizim, which in their belief is the most sacred of mountains. He assured them that on their arrival he would show them the sacred vessels which were buried there, where Moses had deposited them. His hearers, viewing this tale as plausible, appeared in arms. . . .
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But before they could ascend, Pilate blocked their projected route up the mountain with a detachment of cavalry and heavy-armed infantry, who in an encounter with the firstcomers in the village slew some in a pitched battle and put the others to flight. Many prisoners were taken, of whom Pilate put to death the principal leaders and those who were most influential among the fugitives. (Ant.18.4.1 §61-63)
The seventh figure described by Josephus is Eleazar said to be a “brigand-chief ” (archilēstēs) who had been active for twenty years (c. 40–60 CE) throughout the country. He was thus one of the longest lasting and most destructive of the “bandits” ravaging the country. He was captured by the Roman procurator (52–61 CE) Antonius Felix and sent to Rome for trial. In addition, Felix crucified many of his followers or otherwise punished those who were complicit in his deeds (J.W. 2.13.2 §423). The eighth figure described by Josephus was Theudas, an “imposter” during the prefecture of Cuspius Fadus (44–46 CE). He claimed to act in the form of another Moses and promised to lead his followers across the river Jordan, which would part at his bidding, as did the Red Sea at the bidding of Moses. The movement Theudas inspired was looked upon by the Romans as dangerous, although it is not explained why. In any event, Fadus sent cavalry who surprised his followers and killed many and also took many prisoners. Theudas himself was beheaded and his head taken to Jerusalem for public display. A certain imposter named Theudas persuaded the majority of the masses to take up their possessions and to follow him to the Jordan River. He stated that he was a prophet and that at his command the river would be parted and would provide them an easy passage. With this talk he deceived many. Fadus, however, did not permit them to reap the fruit of their folly, but sent against them a squadron of cavalry. These fell upon them unexpectedly, slew many of them and took many prisoners. Theudas himself was captured, whereupon they cut off his head and brought it to Jerusalem. (Ant. 20.5.1 §53-55)
The ninth figure Josephus describes as among those causing public unrest and lawlessness is an individual known as the Egyptian False Prophet (c. 52–58 CE). As can be seen from his title, this individual claimed to be a divinely inspired prophet. He led his followers, said to number more than 30,000, from the desert to the Mount of Olives hoping to then attack Jerusalem and become king. However, the Romans under the prefect Felix overpowered them, killing many and taking others prisoners. The Egyptian himself escaped. A charlatan (goē), who had gained for himself the reputation of a prophet . . . collected a following of about thirty thousand dupes, and led them by a circuitous route from the desert to the mount called the mount of Olives. From there he proposed to force an entrance into Jerusalem and, after overpowering the Roman garrison, to set himself up tyrant of the people, employing those who poured in with him as his bodyguard. . . . The outcome of the ensuing engagement was that the Egyptian escaped with a few of his followers; most of his force were killed or
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taken prisoners; the remainder dispersed and stealthily escaped to their several homes. (J.W. 2.13.5 §425)
A tenth individual named by Josephus is Jesus, son of Ananias (62 CE). Josephus does not categorize him but simply describes his activity, which had no political or military aims but could best be described as “prophetic.” He is said to have appeared at the Feast of Tabernacles four years (i.e., 62 CE) before the beginning of the Jewish Revolt and cried out day and night: “A voice from the east, a voice from the west, a voice from the four winds; a voice against Jerusalem and the sanctuary, a voice against the bridegroom and the bride, a voice against all the people” (J.W. 6.5.3 §265-67). Not unlike the sequence of events following the arrest of Jesus of Nazareth, this individual was first arrested by influential Jewish leaders interrogated and then turned over to the Roman prefect Albinus. After additional questioning, Albinus had him scourged to the point that his bones were visible. Throughout, the man did not protest but continued his cry of woe. After scourging the man, Albinus let him go but he continued his public lament. Josephus reports that he was particularly active at festivals. He continued this for seven years and five months until one day, as he made his usual way around the city way proclaiming “Woe once more to the city and to the people and to the Temple,” he added “and woe to me” to his cry as he was killed by a Roman catapult stone (J.W. 6.5.3 §269).7 Jesus, son of Ananias, did not form a movement but acted only as an individual. Moreover, his only goal was to warn the people of Jerusalem of the impending doom from the Romans. An eleventh type of bandit-group (lēstai) active in the years preceding the Jewish War were the Sicarii, named for the short curved swords they carried concealed in their robes. They would kill their enemies in broad daylight within a crowd and then pretend to be among those shocked by the event. Their effect was to create general anxiety and panic among the people who could not predict when or where they would strike (J.W. 2.13.3 §423). A twelfth type of villain group mentioned by Josephus was made up of groups of false prophets who pretended to be inspired and misled many of the common people, taking them out to the desert and claiming to show them “signs” (sēmeia) of coming deliverance (J.W. 2.13.4 §423-25). These would seem to be similar to the movement led by Theudas. During the Roman siege of Jerusalem, when the Temple was being burned yet another false prophet urged the people to go to the Temple and receive “signs” (sēmeia) of deliverance. But they all died in the conflagration (J.W. 6.5.2 §259-61). Again he was not primarily a leader of a movement but concerned only to deliver what he considered to be a way to escape death. A thirteenth person and one of the most famous leaders during the actual revolt was Simon bar Giora, who gained fame first by success against the Romans. However the high priests opposed him for his revolutionary ways since, in the early phase of the war, they hoped to be able to negotiate a peace with the Romans. He escaped to Masada until he learned of the death of Ananus, the high priest who led the opposition to him. He returned and eventually gained control of part of Jerusalem until the city fell to Titus. He was then captured and taken to Rome and executed (J.W. 4.9.3-7.5.6).
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Although Josephus makes other, more general, references to disturbances during this period,8 the ones listed above are those that receive the most attention and detail. However, before moving on to an analysis of the earliest stratum of material in the Gospel of John, it will be useful to review what Josephus has to say about three other figures important for the period: John the Baptist, Jesus, and James, the brother of Jesus. Josephus’ descriptions of these individuals give a good context for judging to what extent his reports on such movements were uniformly hostile. In his Antiquities, Josephus provides a brief account of the ministry and death of John the Baptist: But to some of the Jews the destruction of Herod’s army seemed to be divine vengeance, and certainly a just vengeance, for his treatment of John, surnamed the Baptist. For Herod had put him to death, though he was a good man and had exhorted the Jews to lead righteous lives, to practice justice towards their fellows and piety towards God, and so doing to join in baptism. . . . When others too joined the crowds about him, because they were aroused to the highest degree by his sermons, Herod became alarmed. Eloquence that had so great an effect on mankind might lead to some form of sedition, for it looked as if they would be guided by John in everything they did. Herod decided therefore that it would be much better to strike first and be rid of him before his work led to an uprising, than to wait for an upheaval, get involved in a difficult situation and see his mistake. (Ant. 18.5.2 §81-83)9
Josephus also provides a brief account of Jesus of Nazareth. It is generally recognized that the present text has undergone Christian interpolations. The text below has been purged of what most scholars consider to be these interpolations. At this time there appeared Jesus, a wise man. For he was a doer of startling deeds, a teacher of the people who receive the truth with pleasure. And he gained a following both among many Jews and among many of Greek origin. And when Pilate, because of an accusation made by the leading men among us, condemned him to the cross, those who had loved him previously did not cease to do so. And up until this very day the tribe of Christians, named after him, has not died out. (Ant. 18.3.3 §49-51)10
Josephus goes on to comment briefly on the death of James. He is described as the brother of “that Jesus who was called Christ.” As J. P. Meier remarks, Josephus regards James as a minor character and is mentioned only because his illegal execution led to the deposition of the high priest Ananus: “[The Roman governor] Festus was now dead, and [his successor] Albinus was still upon the road. So [the high priest] Ananus assembled the Sanhedrin of judges, and brought before them the brother of that Jesus who was called Christ, whose name was James, and some of his companions. And when he had formed an accusation against them as breakers of the law, he delivered them to be stoned.”11
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The portrayal of the ministry of Jesus in the first edition of the Gospel of John In my commentary, I proposed, by means of analysis of the Greek text of the Gospel, that there were numerous characteristics by which the various literary strata within the Gospel could be determined.12 The entire first volume of the commentary was dedicated to the determination of these criteria and their resulting bodies of material. The conclusion of that study was that the Gospel had gone through three “editions” in reaching its final form. The first of the editions, that is, the oldest stratum of material in the Gospel, was a true narrative leading from an account of the baptismal ministry of John through the public ministry of Jesus to his Resurrection and appearance to Mary Magdalene. This material was not apocalyptic in its outlook and the works of power performed by Jesus were not seen as exorcisms as they were in the Synoptic Gospels. Rather those acts were modeled on the “signs” that Moses performed at the behest of Yahweh before the Egyptian pharaoh and which demonstrated that Moses had been sent by Yahweh. This stratum of material within the Gospel concludes with what is commonly known as “the first conclusion of the Gospel” (20:30-31). The following text is taken from volume 1 of A Commentary on the Gospel and Letters of John. Only the shortest of texts have not been included. Shorter gaps in the text have been indicated by marks of ellipses.13 Larger gaps have been noted explicitly.
The text of the first edition of the Gospel John 1:19-34 When Judeans from Jerusalem sent [to him] priests and Levites to ask him, “Who are you? . . . so that we may give a response to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” 23He said, “I am a voice of one in the desert crying ‘Make straight the way for the Lord,’ as Isaiah the prophet said.” 24And those sent were from among the Pharisees. 27
“The one coming after me, the laces of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie.” These things took place in Bethany-beyond-the-Jordan where John was baptizing.
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John the Baptist was a popular preacher and was concerned with religious rather than political or military matters. Yet Josephus reports that because John was able to exert such great influence over the people, Herod (Antipas) feared that this popularity could be turned to revolt and had John arrested and sent in chains to Machaerus, the Herodian fortress across the Dead Sea. It was there that John was later beheaded. What is significant here is that, although John was conducting a ministry that was entirely religious, any movement that became popular and attracted large numbers of followers was suspect. The movement did not have to give the appearance of being political/ military. Any popular movement with a charismatic leader was in danger of being quashed by Herod Antipas.
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The baptismal site, described as “beyond the Jordan,” has been located with some probability at a site now known as Wadi Al Kharrar, Jordan. There is no archaeological evidence going back to the first century that can confirm the proposal but the present site is plausible.14 To summarize: The view of John the Baptist is consistent with the view in Josephus. That is, he was a person who was a popular figure and was put to death because of it. Bethany beyond the Jordan is unique to the earliest material in the Gospel of John and is identified with some certainty. John 1:35-49 35
John was again standing, along with two of his disciples. 36Seeing Jesus passing by, he said, . . . . 37And his two disciples heard him say this and they followed after Jesus. 38Jesus, turning and seeing them following him, said to them, “What are you looking for?” They said to him, “Rabbi” (which, translated, means Teacher), “where do you stay?” 39He said to them, “Come and see.” So they went and saw where he stayed and remained with him that day. It was about the tenth hour.
40 Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter, was one of the two hearing this from John and following Jesus. 41He first found his own brother Simon and said to him, “We have found the Messiah” (which is translated Christ). 42He led him to Jesus. Looking upon him, Jesus said, “You are Simon, the son of John. You will be called Cephas” (which, translated, means Peter). 43
And he found Philip. And Jesus said to him, “Follow me.” 44Philip was from Bethsaida, the hometown of Andrew and Peter. 45Philip found Nathanael and said to him, “We have found the one that Moses (in the Law) and the Prophets wrote about: Jesus, the son of Joseph, from Nazareth.” 46Nathanael said to him, “What good can come from Nazareth?” Philip said to him, “Come and see.” 47Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him and said about him, “Look, truly this is an Israelite in whom there is no guile.” 48Nathanael said to him, “Whence do you know me?” Jesus responded and said to him, “Before Philip called you, I saw you under the fig tree.” 49 Nathanael responded, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel.” In this material, the ministry of Jesus is closely linked to the ministry of John. Jesus’ first disciples had been disciples of John. They would have been familiar with the purpose of his ministry but found the ministry of Jesus even more appealing. We know the name of one of these disciples, Andrew, but not that of the second.15 The other disciples (Peter, Philip, and Nathanael) were attracted by the words of Andrew and of each other. We do not know whether or not they were also disciples of John. The disciples acclaim Jesus in various ways, all of which are related to what might be called “standard Jewish hopes for the future.” If we look for any hint of political/military elements, it could only be in the identification of Jesus as “Son of God and King of Israel.” These titles were used of the king during the time of the monarchy and it was believed that the future leader of the people would come from the royal family of David. During the various revolts recorded by Josephus, several leaders are said to have assumed kingly power. Simon bar Giora “assumed the diadem” and Athronges “aspired to the throne” and acted “like
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a king”; the Egyptian revolutionary, although proclaiming himself a prophet, was said by Josephus to be intent on “setting himself up as a tyrant.” It is probably best to interpret Nathanael’s use of the titles in the context of the others proclaimed by the disciples rather than to think that Nathanael represented an entirely different perception of Jesus than the others. To summarize: this material presents a unique perspective on the call of the first disciples and is the first of several passages where the ministry of Jesus is compared with and linked indirectly to the ministry of John. As is the case with the description of John in Josephus, there is no indication of any political or military intentions on the part of John. The existence and location of Bethsaida is confirmed by archaeology.16 John 2:1-12 1
There was a wedding in Cana of Galilee and the mother of Jesus was there. 2Both Jesus and his disciples were invited to the wedding. 3When the wine ran out, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They have no wine.”
5 His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” 6There were six stone jars lying there used for the purification ritual of the Jews, each holding two or three measures. 7Jesus said to them, “Fill the jars with water.” They filled them to the top. 8 And he said to them, “Draw some now and bring it to the chief steward.” They did so. 9When the chief steward tasted the water become wine (he did not know where it was from, but the servants who had drawn the water knew), he called the bridegroom 10and said to him, “Everyone puts out the good wine first and when they are intoxicated, the wine of lesser quality. You have kept the good wine until now.” 11 Jesus did this as the beginning of the signs, in Cana of Galilee, . . . and his disciples believed in him. 12 After this, he went down to Capernaum along with his mother and [his] brothers and his disciples and stayed there a few days.
This is the first of the public signs of Jesus. It also represents the introduction of the term “sign,” a term that will dominate the presentation of the miracles of Jesus in the first edition. As was the case of the signs performed by Moses, the signs of Jesus will show that he is “from God.”17 Some of the revolutionary leaders during this period claimed to work signs as a proof of their divine mission so it cannot be said that the use of this term rules out any political or military agenda. The provision of wine was, from one point of view, simply a matter of supplying drink for the wedding, although the amount of symbolism elsewhere in the Gospel has led interpreters to see here imagery of the abundance associated with messianic times or in the context of the predicted messianic banquet. The author also casually indicates that the jars containing the water-made-wine were made of stone, a substance that was not able to be rendered unclean according to Jewish law. This is the only time in any of the gospels there is mention of vessels made of stone, a detail that is verified by numerous archaeological finds.18
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To summarize: The passage introduced the term “sign,” a term that was also claimed by other prophetic figures in the first century. Therefore, we must acknowledge the considerable similarity of the presentation of Jesus in this material to that of figures mentioned by Josephus. Yet there is nothing in this current passage that would suggest a revolutionary agenda on Jesus’ part. It should also be pointed out that Josephus makes no mention of any individuals actually performing signs, but only promising to do so. The mention of Cana is unique to the Gospel and is now confirmed by archaeology.19 John 2:13-3:2 13
The Passover of the Jews was near and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. 23When he was in Jerusalem at the Passover—at the feast—many believed in his name, seeing his signs that he was performing. 3:1
There was a Pharisee, Nicodemus by name, a ruler of the Jews. 2This one came to him by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you have come as a teacher from God. For no one is able to perform these signs that you perform unless God is with him.” This is the first of the three Passovers mentioned in the first edition (also 6:4 and 11:55). The material relating to Jesus’ presence at this feast is quite brief. Certainly in the present form of the Gospel, a considerable amount of material from the first edition has been omitted and replaced on account of Jesus disrupting the activity of the money changers and sellers of doves in the Temple area.20 When the material of the first edition resumes, it speaks only about the signs that Jesus had been performing during the feast. There would appear to have been a considerable number of such signs since the text says that “many were believing in him.” We do not know the number or the nature of these “signs” but if such events continued for a long enough time with sufficient effect upon the crowds, the religious authorities would certainly have taken notice. Jesus’ signs occasion a visit at night by a Pharisee by the name of Nicodemus, a member of the ruling class and presumably a person who would regularly be called to participate in the Sanhedrin. Rather than passing judgment on Jesus, he seems to come with an open mind. The fact that he comes “at night” may be an indication that he knows his openness to Jesus might not be looked upon with approval by his peers. Nicodemus makes a statement: “Rabbi, we know that you have come as a teacher from God. For no one is able to perform these signs that you perform unless God is with him.” We would be fortunate to know what the response to Nicodemus was in the first edition, but it has been replaced by material from the second edition that takes the discussion to a whole other level. We will see later in the Gospel that this is the first instance of a consistent pattern in the earliest material of Pharisees reacting to Jesus after reports of his performing signs and attracting belief on the part of the common people.21 To summarize: From what we learn in this episode, there is nothing that would indicate that Jesus’ actions or those of his followers had any similarity to those of the revolutionaries.
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John 3:22-23 22 Later, Jesus and his disciples came into the Judean countryside. He stayed some time there with them and baptized. 23John too was baptizing—in Aenon-nearSalim—because water was plentiful there. People were coming and being baptized. 25
Then a discussion arose between the disciples of John and a Judean about ritual cleansing. 26They came to John and said to him, “Rabbi, the one who was with you across the Jordan, to whom you bore witness, look, he is baptizing and everyone is going to him.” Jesus is now reported to move out from the city of Jerusalem into the Judean countryside. He is also reported to have stayed there some time and to have baptized. Staying there “some time” could well mean a matter of weeks or perhaps months, especially if he and his disciples are conducting a baptismal ministry that had attracted some success. John, who moved around the country from time to time, was now at Aenon-nearSalim and baptizing there because water was plentiful. The baptismal ministries of both John and Jesus would have required either rivers or springs because, according to the Jewish rules of ritual purification, it could only be done with such “living water” as was found in rivers, springs, or other naturally flowing water. Although the next verse does not belong to the earliest stratum of the Gospel, it is important to note that a later author, probably the final (third) author, felt compelled to note that John had not yet been put into prison. In the material of the first edition, there is no mention of the arrest of John. This is another example of just how unique some of the earliest material of John’s Gospel is compared to the Synoptics, where Jesus is said not to begin his ministry until after the arrest of John! In the context of these two baptismal ministries, a man from Judea approaches the disciples of John and asks about “cleansing” (katharizmos). The meaning of this word “cleansing” is not completely clear, nor is the meaning of the question about it. It could well refer to the traditional ritual cleansing that was necessary for keeping oneself in a proper state for approaching the Temple. It could also refer to the relative value of the baptisms of John and Jesus. The events indicate that the ministry of Jesus at this time was understood to be closely related to that of John. To summarize: This material provides much unique material about the ministry of Jesus and its relation to the ministry of John. The presentation of John continues to be in keeping with his description by Josephus. Aenon-near-Salim is mentioned only within the first edition and only in the Gospel of John within the New Testament. Its location has been identified with some probability.22 John 4:1-4 1
[when Jesus] learned that the Pharisees had heard that he was baptizing and making more disciples than John 3he departed from Judean territory and returned again to Galilee. 4He had to pass through Samaria. These verses are significant for three reasons. First, we read that Jesus continues his baptizing ministry and is so successful that he is making more disciples than John,
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information that is unique to the Gospel of John. According to Josephus, John’s ministry was so successful that Herod Antipas had him arrested. Thus the portrayal here fits well with the picture presented by Josephus. Second, at this point in the ministry Jesus senses hostility from the Pharisees. This is not unlike the suspicion that John the Baptist’s activity generated among the Pharisees according to 1:19-24. This hostility is sufficiently great that Jesus feels compelled to leave Judea and return to Galilee. In the material of the first edition, we see that when Jesus senses danger, he moves away from it. In the second edition, he escapes danger miraculously.23 Third, it is at this point in the Gospel as we now have it that a later author inserts a comment denying that Jesus himself was baptizing. As striking as this statement is, it is in some ways even more striking that a later editor felt compelled to deny that Jesus was baptizing, while still allowing three statements affirming it to stand! The principles of composition and editing that would consider this an appropriate procedure are certainly radically different from any sort of editorial principles in use today. But, to be clear, in these few verses from the first edition, we have been told that Jesus himself (along with his disciples) has been baptizing and making more disciples than John and that the Pharisees have become sufficiently suspicious and actually hostile to him that he feels compelled to leave Judea and return to Galilee. We are not told what precipitated the hostility of the Pharisees at this point but we do know the Pharisees had manifested a similar suspicion of and resistance to the activity of John the Baptist. However, they had apparently concluded that John did not pose a threat and they no longer pursued him as they had done earlier as had been reported in 1:19-24. The declaration that Jesus had to pass through Samaria is somewhat ambiguous. It is not factually true that the only route to Galilee from Judea was through Samaria. There was another route that led from Jerusalem down to the Jordan near Jericho that allowed persons to pass northward on the west side of the Jordan, without actually going through Samaria. In some respects, that alternate route was often preferred because travel through Samaria could be dangerous. For an account of a deadly attack on Galileans heading southward through Samaria toward Jerusalem for Passover one year, see Josephus, J.W. 2.12.3 §415.24 Others have interpreted the necessity of passing through Samaria as “divine necessity,” that is, that it was part of the divine plan that Jesus pass through Samaria and so have a successful ministry among the Samaritans. There is no material in the first edition that expresses the kind of double meaning that this second interpretation involves, and so I would understand the statement as simply indicating that the more westerly route to Galilee did indeed, unavoidably, pass through Samaria. To summarize: The picture of hostility to Jesus, growing because of his popularity, is certainly in keeping with the portrayal of Herod’s hostility to John simply because of John’s popularity. However, if we look at this trip from the perspective of what we know from Josephus, the fact that Jesus chose to travel through Samaria would seem to be unusual, given the regular hostility of the Samaritans to both Galileans and Judeans.
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John 4:5-39 5
So he came to the Samaritan town called Sychar, near the field that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. 6Jacob’s well was there. Jesus, tired from his traveling, sat down at the well. It was about the sixth hour.
7
A Samaritan woman came to draw water and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” His disciples had gone into the town to buy food. 9The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, who are a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a Samaritan woman?” For Jews do not associate with Samaritans. 8
16 He said to her, “Go, call your husband and come back.” 17The woman responded and said to him, “I do not have a husband.” Jesus said to her, “You say well that you have no husband. 18You have had five husbands and the one you have now is not your husband. This you have said truthfully.” 25
The woman said to him, “I know the Messiah is coming, the one called Christ. When he comes, he will announce all things to us.” 26Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one speaking to you.” 27
At that moment, his disciples returned and marveled that he was talking with a woman. Nevertheless, no one said, “What are you inquiring about?” or “Why are you speaking with her?” 28So the woman left her water jar and went into the town and said to the people, 29“Come, see a person who told me everything I have done. This man isn’t the Christ, is he?” 30The people went out from the town and were coming to him. 39
From that town many of the Samaritans believed in him because of the word of the woman who witnessed, “He told me everything I have done.” The account of Jesus’ stop at the well of Jacob and his conversation with the woman is without parallel in the New Testament. Like so many other episodes of the first edition, we are dealing with material unique to this literary stratum. This early material seems deliberately intent on showing that Jesus attracted a popular following by his signs wherever he went. Although the incident was developed considerably by the author of the second edition, in the first edition, the account is quite jejune. Jesus reminds the woman that she has had five husbands and that the man she is living with at the present is not her husband. The revelation of this knowledge alone becomes the basis for her belief. Even in the final form of the Gospel, which includes Jesus’ offer of living water to the woman, and her subsequent misunderstanding of Jesus’ words and their discussion about the proper place of worship concluding with Jesus’ prophetic words, it is the fact that Jesus knew her marital history supernaturally that she reports to the crowds (cf. v. 39). It is a major motif of this early material that people from a variety of places and social levels were attracted to Jesus. This is one surprising, and quite unexpected, example. To summarize: The only feature of this episode that is unusual is that it occurred in the first place. That Jesus, a Jew, would attract such a following among Samaritans would have to be judged unusual from what we know of Samaritan-Jewish relations. There are two topographical references in this passage that are unique to the earliest stratum of material within John’s Gospel: Sychar and Jacob’s Well. Jacob’s Well is attested
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throughout antiquity and up to the present. However Sychar has been disputed. The most reasonable identification is with the town of Aschar about five kilometers from the base of Mt. Gerizim.25 John 4:43-54 He departed from there into Galilee. 44. . . 45the Galileans welcomed him, having seen all that he had done in Jerusalem at the feast, for they too had come to the feast. 46
So he came again into Cana of Galilee where he had made water wine. And there was an official whose son was ill in Capernaum. 47This man, hearing that Jesus had come from Judea into Galilee, came to him. 49The official said to him, “Sir, come down before my little boy dies.” 50Jesus said to him, “Depart. Your son lives.” The man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him and he departed. 51 While he was still on his journey down, his servants came to meet him saying that his son was alive. 52He found out from the servants the hour at which the son began to recover. They said to him, “Yesterday at the seventh hour the fever left him.” 53The father remembered that was the very hour when Jesus said, “Your son lives,” and he himself believed and his entire household. 54 This was, again, the second sign that Jesus performed, coming from Judea to Galilee.
The second sign (cf. 4:54) that Jesus performed on his trip north took place in Cana, where he had performed his first public sign.26 It results not only in the belief of the official but also of his household.27 It is perhaps the fact that the man was of elevated social status that is meant to show that Jesus also had a following among that sector of society. To summarize: There is no indication that the healing led to any sort of public display either positive or negative. As we have seen above, Cana is to be identified with Khirbet Cana. John 6:1-4 1
Jesus departed to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, of Tiberias. 2A large crowd was following him because they had seen the signs that he was performing upon the sick. 3Jesus went up the mountain and sat there with his disciples. 4Passover, the feast of the Jews, was near.
The reader will notice that I have reversed the order of chapters 5 and 6. This is done because it is almost certain that this was the order in the earliest version of the Gospel and the order was reversed by the author of the second edition.28 Jesus now moves from the west side of the Sea of Galilee (known in the Gospel as the Sea of Tiberias) to the east side. There is a “large crowd” now following Jesus because of the signs that Jesus was performing on the sick. Presumably the healing of the official’s son would have been one of the signs the crowd had seen. For reasons that we are not told, Jesus goes up “the” mountain with his disciples.29 It is then that we are told that the Passover was near.
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To summarize: The portrayal of Jesus continues in an almost stereotyped way, but there is nothing to indicate any violent or political intentions. The reference to the Sea of Galilee as being “the Sea of Tiberias” appears only in the Gospel of John.30 John 6:5-14 5
So Jesus, lifting up his eyes and seeing that a large crowd was coming toward him, said to Philip, “Where will we buy bread that these may eat?” 7Philip answered him, “Two hundred denarii worth of bread would not be sufficient for them so that each may have a small [amount].” 8One of his disciples, Andrew the brother of Simon Peter, said to him, 9“Here is a young boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are these for so many?” 10Jesus said, “Have the people recline.” There was considerable grass in the place. The men then reclined, about five thousand in number. 11Then Jesus took the loaves; and, having given thanks, he distributed them to those reclining; the same with the fish, as much as they wanted. 12 When they had enough, he said to his disciples, “Gather together the remaining pieces, so that nothing may be lost.” 13So they gathered them up, and they filled twelve baskets with fragments of the five barley loaves that were left over from those who had eaten. 14The people, seeing the signs that he performed, said, “Truly this is the Prophet who is coming into the world.”
What is important for the present occasion is the fact that, after the feeding of the crowd, they declare that Jesus is “the Prophet who is coming into the world.” In and of itself, this acclamation does not indicate that the crowd perceives Jesus as a political/military leader. However, it seems clear that the author of the second edition did understand the crowd’s reaction that way, for he illuminates v. 14 by his addition in v. 15: “But Jesus, knowing that they were about to come and to take him by force so they might make him king, again went up the mountain alone, by himself.” Here we have a close parallel to what happened in the case of Simon bar Giora and Athronges, although in those cases, it was the leader himself who claimed the kingship. Nevertheless, the author of the second edition shows that actions such as Jesus’ feeding of five thousand people could result in movements that had political/military aims, something that is mirrored in the reports of Josephus. To summarize: From the reaction of the second author to the feeding, it is apparent that such an action in the “desert” could be construed by followers as having military or political aims. However, there is no indication that any such movement actually took place. And it is clear, from the later addition to the text, that Jesus rejected any such intentions. John 6:16-21 16
When it was becoming evening, his disciples went down to the sea 17and, embarking in a boat, started across the sea to Capernaum. It had already become dark. 18and the sea was stirred up because a high wind was blowing. 19Having rowed about three or three-and-a-half miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea, coming near the boat; and they became afraid. 20But he said to them, “It is I; do not be afraid.” 21They then wanted to take him into the boat and immediately the boat arrived at the place where they were heading.
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This episode does not require much comment. It is a “private” event destined only for the disciples. Jesus is able to walk on the water in spite of the fact that a storm is raging. In addition, after Jesus is taken into the boat it arrives at the place where it was heading, the town of Capernaum. There is no doubt about the location of Capernaum and no discussion is needed. The town appears both in the Gospel of John and in the Synoptics.31 John 5:1-9 1
Later, there was a feast of the Jews and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. 2In Jerusalem, near the Sheep Gate, there is a pool (called, in Hebrew, Bethesda) that has five porticoes. 3 A crowd of sick, blind, lame, and paralyzed were lying in these porticoes. 5There was a certain man there who had been sick for thirty-eight years. 6Seeing this man lying there and knowing that he had been sick a long time, Jesus said to him, “Do you wish to be healed?” 7The sick man answered him, “Sir, I do not have someone to put me in the pool when the water is stirred up. By the time I get there, another has entered before me.” 8Jesus said to him, “Get up, pick up your pallet, and walk.” 9And immediately the man was healed and took up his pallet and began to walk. This miracle takes place at the Passover which is mentioned in 6:4 as being “near.” It takes place at the Pool of Bethesda, a large pool that was first recovered beginning in the 1960s.32 However only recently has it been recognized as a miqveh, a large pool converted and expanded from what had been a reservoir into a pool for ceremonial washing to restore ritual purity.33 This pool along with the similar Pool of Siloam (see 9:7) are identified by archaeology but they are mentioned only in the earliest version of John’s Gospel in the New Testament. It is the only miracle that has no statement of belief after it nor is it described as a “sign.” There seems to be no notable symbolism in the miracle itself and no indication of any reaction to the miracle in what is left from the first edition.34 To summarize: The material exhibits the same features as the other “signs” except any mention of belief has been removed by the author of the second edition. It also contains specific accurate topographical information unique to this body of material. John 7:1-27 2
Tabernacles, the feast of the Jews, was near.
(There is a gap of twenty-four verses) “Do you think the rulers truly know that this man is the Christ? 27But we know where this man is from. When the Christ comes, no one is to know his origin.” The next scene takes place at the Feast of Tabernacles. This is the only material within the New Testament in which there is any indication of Jesus’ activity at a Feast of Tabernacles. At the beginning of the feast, the common people are speculating about the identity of Jesus. They wonder what the religious authorities think: Do they actually know that Jesus is the Christ? But then they raise the problem of the “unknown messiah.” When the Christ comes, no one is to know his origin. Of course, the unspoken fact is that they know Jesus is from Galilee.
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John 7:31-32, 40-52 31 From among the common people, however, many believed in him; and they said, “When the Christ comes, will he perform more signs than this man?” 32The Pharisees heard the common people murmuring these things about him, and the chief priests and the Pharisees sent Temple police to seize him.
(There is a gap of eight verses) 40
Some of the common people, . . . said, “This man is truly the Prophet.” 41Others said, “This is the Christ,” but they said, “But the Christ is not to come from Galilee, is he? 42 Does the Scripture not say that the Christ comes ‘from the seed of David’ and ‘from Bethlehem’, the village where David was?” 43Then a division arose in the common people because of him. 44Some of them wanted to seize him, but no one laid hands on him. 45
So the Temple police returned to the chief priests and Pharisees, and they said to the Temple police, “Why have you not brought him in?” 46The Temple police responded, “No person ever spoke like this man before.” 47The Pharisees responded to them, “Are you too deceived? 48Has any of the rulers or the Pharisees believed in him? 49But the common people, who do not know the Law, are damned.” 50
Nicodemus, the one who had come to him before and who was one of them, said to them, 51“Our Law does not judge a person without first hearing from the person and knowing what the person has done, does it?” 52They responded and said to him, “Are you too from Galilee? Search and see that the prophet does not come from Galilee.” This next scene is a long, and important, one. Jesus is still at Tabernacles. It is difficult to know just how numerous “many” is, but we read that “many of the common people” believe in Jesus. This would seem to indicate that there was substantial public reaction to Jesus. Likewise it is clear that the public’s belief is entirely on the basis of Jesus’ signs. On the face of it, this is the sort of reaction that one could well expect from the followers of one of the messianic figures of the period. The people’s perception is that the number of signs performed by Jesus is quite large, such that they would certainly be what was expected of “the Christ.” The public tumult is so great that, when the Pharisees hear the people reacting this way, the chief priests and Pharisees send the Temple police to arrest Jesus.35 This is the first public action taken against Jesus. It is not the result of a decision of the Sanhedrin; it will be some time before that takes place. This was more informal. But it is also the first time that we hear of the Pharisees and the chief priests taking action together. We know from Josephus, that this sort of unusual joint action of the chief priests (who had the normal authority of “power”) together with the Pharisees (whose power was normally that of “influence”) was an historical reality that took place only in times of crisis.36 While the events described here might not seem to constitute a crisis, the fact that the chief priests are enlisting the aid of the Pharisees indicates that it is perceived as a threat by the religious authorities. The scene now shifts to the common people and we find out that some of them declare Jesus to be “the Prophet.” Others claim he is “the Christ.” But this is not the end of it, others point out that the Christ is not to come from Galilee but from Bethlehem, the village of David. As a result, a substantial division arises, to the point that some of them want to seize Jesus, but nobody does. The reference to “some” here would seem at first to refer to the common people, but in the following verses we hear that the Temple
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police now return to the chief priests and Pharisees without arresting Jesus, so it is likely that those who wanted to seize Jesus but did not do so were the Temple police. At any rate, the Temple police return without Jesus, and the chief priests and Pharisees demand to know why. The police respond that no one has ever spoken like “this man.” Quite a sharp retort for underlings of the religious authorities! But the Pharisees ask them sarcastically “Have you too been deceived? Have any of the rulers or the Pharisees believed in him? The common people are cursed”—they do not know the Law and how it determines such issues. With this disparaging remark about the common people, most scholars see a reflection of the authorities’ attitude toward the ’am ha-aretz, the Hebrew term meaning “people of the land.”37 Once again we see an instance of a cultural term in common use at the time reflected in the material of the first edition but only there. But Nicodemus reminds the other rulers that the Law should not judge a person without a face to face interrogation. But they chided Nicodemus suggesting that he might be from Galilee and so be prejudiced in favor of Jesus. They conclude by telling Nicodemus to search the Scriptures and he would see that “the Prophet” (like Moses) is not said to come from Galilee. If we compare this scene with those narrated by Josephus, we see a considerable number of similarities. There is the public acclamation of Jesus during the feast. Such public demonstrations were common during the feasts, according to Josephus. There is the crisis-provoked coalition of the Pharisees with the chief priests. Again, we see instances of this sort of coalition in Josephus.38 There are also the first signs that the actions of the religious authorities are ineffectual: the crowds and even the Temple police are swayed more by Jesus than by the religious authorities. To summarize: This scene in 7:31-52 is important for a number of reasons. As we have seen, it describes a major public approbation of Jesus although there is some lingering dispute about whether he fulfills the criteria for either of the major figures that were the object of hoped-for restoration: the Prophet like Moses and the Christ. The situation is sufficiently critical that the chief priests join with the Pharisees to take action. But when they send their police to arrest Jesus, the police themselves are so impressed by Jesus that they do not do so. The religious authorities then show their disregard for the common people and when Nicodemus questions the propriety of the other authorities’ actions, he is dismissed, ridiculed and told to search the Scriptures and he would see that his view was not supported by them. John 9:1, 6-17, 24-34 1
And going farther along, he saw a person blind from birth. (There is a gap of five verses) 6 He spit on the ground and made mud from the spit and spread the mud on his eyes 7 and said to him, “Go and wash in the Pool of Siloam” (which is translated Sent). So he went off, and washed himself, and returned seeing. 8The neighbors and those who had noticed that he was a beggar before said, “Is this man not the one who used to sit and beg?” 9Others agreed that it was he. Others said, “No, but he looks like him.” The man said, “I am he!” 10So they said to him, “How [then] were your eyes opened?” 11The man
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responded, “The man named Jesus made mud and covered my eyes and told me ‘Go to the Pool of Siloam and wash.’ So having gone off and washed, I could see.” 12And they said to him, “Where is that man?” He said, “I do not know.” 13 They took the man who had been blind to the Pharisees. 14For it was on a Sabbath that Jesus made mud and opened his eyes. 15So the Pharisees interrogated him again, how it was that he gained his sight. But he said to them, “He put mud upon my eyes and I washed and I see.” 16Then some of the Pharisees said, “This man is not from God because he does not keep the Sabbath.” [But] others said, “How is a sinful person able to perform such signs?” And there was a division among them. 17 Therefore, they said to the blind man again, “What do you say about him since he opened your eyes?” He said “He is a prophet.”
(There is a gap of seven verses) 24
So, for a second time, they called the man who had been blind and said to him, “Give glory to God. We know that this man is a sinner.” 25So the man answered, “Whether he is a sinner, I do not know. One thing I know: that I was blind and now I see.” 26So they said to him, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?” 27 He said to them, “I told you already and you did not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Perhaps you too want to become his disciples?” 28And they berated him and said, “You are a disciple of that fellow; we are disciples of Moses! 29We know that God has spoken to Moses but we do not know where this one is from.” 30 The man responded and said to them, “This is what is surprising, that you do not know where he is from, and he opened my eyes. 31We know that God does not hear sinners; but, if a person is God-fearing and does his will, he listens to the person. 32Never has it been heard that anyone has opened the eyes of a person born blind. 33Unless this man was from God, he would not be able to do anything.” 34They responded and said to him, “You were born completely in sin and you teach us?” And they threw him out.
The account of the man born blind reveals yet another dynamic in relation to the signs of Jesus. The man is cured by Jesus putting mud on his eyes and telling him to go to the Pool of Siloam to wash it off. The Pool of Siloam was a large public miqveh intended to renew ritual purity. It is located at the extreme southern end of the city. The full extent of the pool and its purpose were discovered by archaeologists quite recently, in the year 2005.39 The pool is mentioned only in the Gospel of John, another of the accurate references unique to this material within the New Testament. As the Gospel itself explains, never before had it been heard that the eyes of one born blind had been opened. It is the most remarkable “sign” up to this point in the Gospel. But it becomes a matter of contention and the neighbors of the man at first doubt that it is really the blind man. Then they want to find out how it happened. As was the case with the cripple in chapter five, at first the man does not know who it was that cured him. So the neighbors take the man to the Pharisees because it was a Sabbath when this took place. They also ask how he gained his sight and he explains. This causes a division of opinion among the Pharisees also. Some say that he cannot be from God because he does not keep the Sabbath; others say that a sinner would not be able to work such signs. Incredibly they ask the man what he thinks and he declares that Jesus is a prophet. After a gap in the narrative, we see that the man is back before the
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Pharisees and the man has a debate with them. Eventually he asks them whether they want to become Jesus’ followers and they berate the man declaring they are disciples of Moses. Finally the man repeats the standard logic that a man who works such signs must be from God because God does not hear sinners. At that the Pharisees express outrage that a person born in sin would dare to teach them and they dismissed him abruptly. To summarize: The discussion of the healing transpires only in religious terms: What is to be thought of a man who violates the Sabbath but by doing so, performs such remarkable healings? There is no indication of any political or military inclinations on the part of any of the actors. This Pool, the public miqveh at the southern limits of the city, corresponding to the Pool of Bethesda at the northern end, is mentioned only in this earliest stratum of material and nowhere else in the New Testament. John 10:40-42 40
And he went off again beyond the Jordan to the place where John was first baptizing, and he remained there. 41And many came to him and said, “On the one hand, John performed no sign; and, on the other, everything John said about this man was true.” 42And many believed in him there. After a considerable gap in the text, Jesus is reported to have moved across the Jordan to the place where John was first baptizing. And he drew a crowd there. The people reflected on the fact that this was the place that John baptized and that while John did not perform signs, everything John said about Jesus turned out to the true. And so many came to belief in Jesus there also. To summarize: Here is another mention of the fact that Jesus performed signs but John did not. In addition, there is another of the stereotyped references to belief in Jesus on the part of many. John 11:1-46 1
There was a certain person who was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, from the village of Mary and Martha, her sister. 3So the sisters sent to him saying, “Master, behold, the one you love is ill.” . . . then he remained two days in the place where he was. . . . he said, “Lazarus our friend has fallen asleep but I go to wake him up.” 12So the disciples said to him, “Master, if he is asleep, he will be saved.” 13Jesus was speaking about his death. But they thought that he was speaking about ordinary sleep. 14Then Jesus said to them openly, “Lazarus has died.” (There is a gap of three verses) 17
So when Jesus arrived, he found him in the tomb for four days already. 18Bethany was near Jerusalem, about fifteen stadia away. 19So many Judeans had come to Martha and Mary to console them about their brother. 20When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went to meet him. Mary was seated in the house. 21Martha then said to Jesus, “Master, if you had been here my brother would not have died. 22[But] even now I know that whatever you ask God for, God will give to you.” (There is a gap of six verses)
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28 She went off and called Mary her sister, saying secretly, “The teacher is present and is calling for you.” 29The sister, when she heard this, got up quickly and went to him. 30 Jesus had not yet come into the village but was still in the place where Martha had met him. 31So the Judeans who were with her in the house and consoling her, seeing Mary get up quickly and depart, followed her, thinking that she was going to the tomb to weep there. 32 So Mary, when she came to the place where Jesus was, seeing him, fell at his feet, saying to him, “Master, if you had been here my brother would not have died.” 33So, when he saw her weeping and the Judeans who accompanied her weeping, Jesus was deeply disturbed in spirit and was shaken 34and said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Master, come and see.” 35Jesus wept. 36So the Judeans said, “Look how much he loved him.” 37But some of them said, “Was not this man, who opened the eyes of the blind man, able to prevent this man from dying?” 38 Jesus, once again deeply disturbed within, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay in front of it. 39Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Master, he is already giving off a stench, for it is the fourth day.” 41So they removed the stone.
(There is a gap of two verses) He cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come forth!” 44Then the dead man came out, bound hand and foot in burial wrappings, and his face was wrapped in a face cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unwrap him and let him go.” 45
So, many of the Judeans, those who had come to Mary and who had seen the things he had done, believed in him. 46But some of them went off to the Pharisees and told them the things Jesus had done. The account of the raising of Lazarus, even without the additions by later authors, is a long one. It takes place in Bethany, a town well-known even today, a short distance east of the city of Jerusalem beyond the Mt. of Olives. The miracle is also the greatest of those performed by Jesus. But while it results in the belief of many who witness it, some report the event to the Pharisees. There is nothing about this miracle taking place on a Sabbath so the intent of those who report it can only be a concern for the disruption such events cause. We see the use of the Greek word Ioudaioi in this episode with the specific meaning of “Judeans” (inhabitants of the region of Judea) rather than the more general use often translated “Jews.” This use is evident from the fact that these people are said to come from nearby Jerusalem. It is significant that when Jesus orders that the stone be removed from the tomb, it is not a matter of rolling the stone away. The Greek verb is airein (to take away) rather than apokulein (roll away). The choice of verb is significant, however; for, of over 900 tombs found in the area around Jerusalem from the time of Jesus, only two have rolling stones: the tomb of the Queen of Adiabene and the “tomb” (memorial) of Herod in Jerusalem.40 There were two common forms of tomb closure in the first century. One form of closure was a rectangular, mushroom-capped stone that fit into a short, and somewhat narrow, opening into the tomb with flanges extending beyond the edges of
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the opening on the outside. This design was intended to prevent the entry of vermin. The second type of closure was a small slab that covered the opening to the tomb but did not extend into the entrance itself.41 The fact that Jesus orders that the stone be taken away seems to indicate that the closure referred to was of the “mushroom cap” type. In any event, it did not refer to a stone that can be rolled away.42 Thus the Greek of this text gives one more minor indication of a historically correct term unique to this early material in the Gospel of John. To summarize: We see two instances of terminology that is both specific and accurate but is not found in the other editions of the Gospel. The town itself is mentioned also in the Synoptic Gospels. John 11:47-53 47
So the chief priests and the Pharisees convened the Sanhedrin and said “What are we to do because this man performs many signs? 48If we allow him thus, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and will destroy our place and our people.” 49One of them, Caiaphas, the chief priest that year, said to them, “You know nothing! 50Nor do you realize that it is beneficial for us that one person die for the people lest the entire people be destroyed.” 53So from that day, they took counsel to kill him. We now hear of the beginning of formal proceedings against Jesus. There is remarkable verisimilitude in this passage to what we know from Josephus. First, the notice of joint action by the Pharisees and chief priests is, as we have seen, an historically verified action taking place in times of severe crisis. Second, we note that the chief priests and Pharisees are now concerned about the public interest that Jesus’ signs are causing, not about his alleged violations of the Sabbath. Their grounds for condemning Jesus are that they fear, if Jesus is permitted to continue, the Romans will come and destroy the Temple and the people. Third, the nature of this reason given for putting Jesus to death resonates well with the tenor of the times. In Josephus’ account of the death of John the Baptist, we had seen that it was for very much the same reason that Herod Antipas had John the Baptist put to death. It was not that John had done anything wrong, but there was always the possibility that anyone so popular could turn that popularity into political or military gain. Here the Pharisees fear that the Romans will be concerned about such popularity and react against the entire nation. Thus in this text Jesus is presented as “a victim of circumstances” rather than as dying as a direct result of his teaching or as a sacrifice. This is truly remarkable. Such a statement in a Gospel qualifies for the criterion of “dissonance,” if not “embarrassment”! Fourth, from the time of Herod’s death in 4 BCE up to the time of the revolt against Rome in 66 CE, things were unsettled in Palestine and there were many uprisings. The Romans sent soldiers from their permanent encampment at Caesarea to Jerusalem every year during the feasts, especially Passover, precisely to prevent the possibility of uprisings. It was close to Passover when Jesus raised Lazarus and so the religious authorities, knowing the practice of the Romans coming to Jerusalem at just that time, take preemptive action precisely to prevent a Roman response to Jesus’ popularity (for a similar situation, see Josephus, Ant. 20.5.3 §57-61).
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Fifth, the language attributed to Caiaphas, that “the Romans will come and destroy our (holy) place and the nation” (eleusontai hoi Rōmaioi kai arousin hēmōn kai ton topon kai to ethnos), resonates remarkably closely with the language of the time. We see a close resemblance to these words in the final cry of Jesus, son of Ananaius, “Woe once again to the city and to the people and to the Temple” (aiai palin tē polei kai tō laō kai tō naō) (Josephus, J.W. 6.5.3 §269). Although the wording is not exact, the ideas are identical except for the added concern for “the city.” Also, at the time of the revolt, Agrippa II counseled the Jews that if they revolted, the Romans “will burn the holy city to the ground and exterminate your race” (kataphleksein men tēn hieran polin, anairēsein de pan hymōn to phylon) (J.W. 2.16.4 §479). Again, the wording is different but the ideas are the same.43 Sixth, we also see that the reason given by Caiaphas (“It is better for one man to die for the people lest the entire nation be destroyed”) was an actual ethical issue debated by the rabbis. The issue derived from the account in 2 Sam 20, in which Sheba son of Bichri was being attacked by Joab. A woman from the city arranged for the death of Sheba to avert both the attack and the destruction of the entire city. As Harold W. Attridge has recently showed, the issue of whether choosing expediency over principle was ever acceptable was debated frequently in the Mishnah, Tosefta, Jerusalem Talmud, and Genesis Rabbah.44 Although complicated by varying circumstances and applications, the result was generally that principles were more important than expediency. There is no way to know if the readers of the Gospel would have known of such formal debates,45 but for those who had considered the issue, it would have been clear that Caiaphas, who should have known better, is being presented here as one who was rejecting even his own tradition and espousing a position that was morally offensive.46 To summarize: we see another reference to the unusual joint action by chief priests and Pharisees, indicating that a crisis is at hand. The reason for putting Jesus to death is in some ways quite amazing; it is not at all a religious reason but one of political expediency. Even the wording of Caiaphas’ justification bears great similarity to what we know from debates recorded shortly after the time of Jesus. John 11:54-57 54
So Jesus no longer moved openly among the Judeans but departed from that place to the region near the desert, to a city by the name of Ephraim, and he remained there with his disciples. 55
The Passover of the Jews was near and many from that region went up to Jerusalem before the Passover to purify themselves. 56So they sought out Jesus and said to one another, standing in the Temple, “What do you think? He will not come to the feast, will he?” 57The Pharisees and chief priests had given orders that, if anyone should know where he was, the person should provide information so they might seize him. We had read in 4:1 that Jesus left Judea and returned to Galilee when the Pharisees became a threat to his baptizing ministry.47 Now after the decision to put him to death, Jesus once again goes into hiding at the edge of the desert in the town of Ephraim.
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Although unique to John within the NT, Ephraim is mentioned several times in the Hebrew Scriptures as well as in the Mishnah and Talmud. See, for example, 2 Sam 13:23; 2 Chr 13:19; 1 Macc 11:34.48 Josephus mentions it in connection with the movements of Vespasian in the Judean hill country (J.W. 4.9.9). Nevertheless, the precise location has not been identified. It is sometimes identified with Et-Taiyibeh about twelve miles north of Jerusalem. Recently excavators at Kirbet el-Maqatir, nine miles north of Jerusalem have proposed that as the location. We also hear that pilgrims are going up to Jerusalem early to purify themselves. This is a reference to the need for those who were in a state of major uncleanness, such as corpse impurity, to undergo the seven day process involving washing and sprinkling with the ashes of the red heifer to regain ritual purity and thus be able to eat the Passover on the fourteenth of Nisan (Num 19:11-12). The remark is yet another that is incidental to the narrative but which provides a specific and accurate—and once again unique to this material in the entire New Testament—knowledge of such a practice. Pilgrims could double or triple the size of the crowds in Jerusalem.49 They are wondering if Jesus will come to the feast. The Pharisees and chief priests had made public their intent to arrest Jesus and had even asked for people with information to report to the authorities. Clearly the people think that, if Jesus comes to the feast, he will be arrested. To summarize: There is much specific, accurate, and unique material in these verses. They also provide a very likely background against which Judas decides to inform the officials about Jesus’ whereabouts. Such a request for the populace to inform on Jesus is not found elsewhere in the Gospels. John 12:1-2 1
So six days before Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus resided, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. 2They held a dinner for him there . . . and Lazarus was among those reclining with him. Pilgrims needing ritual cleansing from corpse impurity demanded seven or eight days; Jesus’ arrival in Bethany, six days before Passover, would be one or possibly two days later. A dinner is given at the house of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. It is curious that Lazarus is mentioned as being at the dinner and is perhaps intended to indicate that this was the first “public” appearance of Lazarus since being raised from the dead. John 12:9-11 9 [The] large crowd of Judeans knew that he was there and they came not only because of Jesus but so that they might see Lazarus whom he raised from the dead. 10 The chief priests planned to kill Lazarus also 11since because of him many of the Judeans were going off and believing in Jesus.
The scene contains two of the most bizarre comments in any of the Gospels: that when the public heard about the dinner, they not only came to see Jesus but to see Lazarus who had been raised from the dead. This is the kind of remark that has nothing to do with theology but is a detail that suggests not only the superficiality of the belief
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of some but also that the belief in Jesus had mushroomed among the people coming for Passover. It is hardly the kind of deep religious commitment that the Gospel is concerned with and seems to justify the statement we will read in 12:19: “Look the world is going after him!” This statement about the crowds wanting to see Lazarus is followed by an equally strange comment on the part of the chief priests, that they now wanted to kill Lazarus also, because he was the occasion for so many believing in Jesus. The fact that these statements are included in the earliest stratum of material would seem to give a significant boost to the conclusion that they were historical since there would be little reason to make up such events. John 12:17-19 17
So the crowd that was with him when he called Lazarus from the tomb and raised him from the dead was bearing witness. 18Because of this [also] the crowd went out to receive him, because they heard that he had performed this sign. 19So the Pharisees said to one another, “You see that you can do nothing. Look, the world is going after him!” In the present state of the Gospel, the account of the so-called triumphal entry into Jerusalem together with remarks about how the disciples later came to see how that entry related to the fulfillment of Scripture intervene prior to 12:17. However when we consider only the material of the first edition, we read of two crowds acclaiming Jesus. The first crowd is identified as the one that was with Jesus when he raised Lazarus. This is the crowd referred to in 11:19-47, some time ago, since the meal for Lazarus had already intervened. The second crowd, referred to in 12:18, goes out (from Jerusalem) to meet him “because they heard that he had performed this sign.” This would seem to refer to the crowd that is referred to in 12:9, that is, the one that had gone out to see not only Jesus but also Lazarus. But then we must ask why the crowds are referred to (again) at this point since they do not seem to advance the narrative. Given the fact that there is a gap in the narrative of the first edition, the best conclusion seems to be that these verses and the two crowds were the version of the “triumphal entry” as it appeared in the earliest material. Thus, the first crowd could be understood as the one coming to Jerusalem from Bethany and proclaiming Jesus and then the second crowd would be coming out from Jerusalem to join in the acclamation. In any event, the most important statement of the passage is the one made by the Pharisees: “You see that your efforts are useless. Look, the world is going after him!” The Sanhedrin has decreed that Jesus be put to death, but their efforts to have him arrested had so far been in vain and the public acclamation of Jesus is reaching a crescendo. To summarize: Almost all of this material is unique to John but quite plausible and verisimilar. It may well preserve a different and unique version of the public acclaim given to Jesus as he comes into Jerusalem for the feast. It also exhibits the feeling of helplessness on the part of the Pharisees to do anything about Jesus’ popularity.
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John 12:20-22 20
There were some Greeks among those going up to worship at the feast. 21So these approached Philip, the one from Bethsaida in Galilee, and they were asking him saying, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” 22Philip came and spoke to Andrew. Andrew and Philip came and spoke to Jesus. The exact location of this next scene is unknown but it is certainly related to the public acclamation of Jesus in Jerusalem, in the time leading up to Passover. Just who the Greeks are is also difficult to say. It would appear that they were non-Jews, both by race and by religion, non-Jews who respected the Jewish religion and took part in its rituals to some degree without full conversion. Josephus makes reference to such individuals when he states that “foreigners” who were present for the service of Passover could not actually take part in the Passover meal (J.W. 6.9.3). These individuals are sometimes referred to as phoboumenoi, or “(God)-fearers.” They approach Philip, one of Jesus’ disciples with a Greek name, and ask to see Jesus. For unknown reasons, Philip first gets Andrew and together they approach Jesus. And then the material of the first edition breaks off. We can only speculate about the purpose of the complete (original) passage, but if we seek to understand it in the context of the previous material from the earliest version, the most likely explanation would be that this was portrayed as yet another instance of a group coming to believe in Jesus. This time the believers were from outside the Jewish nation. To summarize: Once again we are dealing with material unique to the earliest material in the Gospel. It was not unheard of for non-Jews to admire the religion of the Jews so much that they would come to Jerusalem for Passover even though they were not true converts. The material again presents unique information and describes historically verifiable practices. John 12:37 37
But even though he did so many signs before them, they did not believe in him.
Although this is one of the shortest bits of material from the first edition, it is clearly marked as such by the presence of the term “signs.” There is no indication of who the “they” are in the actual text. However, in the context of the earliest stratum there can be no doubt that the statement refers to the chief priests and Pharisees. The first edition had taken pains to show that large numbers of common people in all sectors of society had seen Jesus’ signs and had come to believe. There were disputes about whether his being from Galilee ruled him out as the Messiah or The Prophet and not all believed in Jesus. Even some who had seen the raising of Lazarus did not become followers but reported him to the Pharisees. Nevertheless, as a general judgment, it would be the chief priests and Pharisees, who discussed the qualifications of Jesus again and again, who did not come to believe. And this statement almost surely refers to them. No summary is necessary. There is a major gap in the narrative of the first edition at this point.
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John 18:1-11 18:1 Jesus went out with his disciples across the winter-flowing Kidron, where there was a garden that Jesus and his disciples entered. 2 Judas, who handed him over, also knew the place because Jesus met there many times with his disciples. 3So Judas, taking the cohort and the attendants of the Pharisees and chief priests, came there with lanterns, torches, and weapons. 4So Jesus . . . went out and said to them, “Whom do you seek?” 5They answered him, “Jesus the Nazarene.” He said, “I am he.” Judas, the one who handed him over, was standing among them. 10 So Simon Peter, having a sword, drew it and struck the servant of the high priest and cut off his right ear. The name of the servant was Malchus. 11So Jesus said to Peter, “Put your sword into its sheath. The cup that the Father has given me, should I not drink it?”
At this point, there is a major gap in the material of the first edition. Nothing remains of the account of Jesus’ last meal with his disciples, nor is there any indication that Jesus had any final teaching and instruction for the disciples. Whatever had been present is now replaced by material from the second and third editions. The material of the earliest version resumes here with Jesus going out from the city, across the “winterflowing” Kidron to the garden along the hillside.50 Moreover, as is well-known, it rains in Jerusalem only between the months of October and March and so the reference to the Kidron and the fact that it is “winter-flowing” are yet other incidental but accurate indications of the author’s knowledge of Jerusalem and its seasons. Although references to the Kidron valley abound in the Jewish Scriptures, this is the only reference in the New Testament. As is regularly the case with a text that has been fragmented by later editing, Judas “who handed him over” is introduced without notice. In the material of the earliest stratum (as it remains in the present Gospel), Judas had not been mentioned previously. As a result we learn nothing about how or when Judas had decided to hand Jesus over. If we are to judge from what we do know of the earliest material, it may well have been that the readers are to understand that Judas had responded to the authorities’ request that if anyone knew where Jesus was that the person should inform the religious authorities (cf. 11:57). This is, in fact, just was Judas has done. Moreover he has told them where they might be able to capture him with a minimum of public reaction. It is often remarked by scholars that the notice that a “cohort” of Roman soldiers came to the garden to arrest Jesus seems excessive and unrealistic. A cohort might be as many as 480 soldiers. While we cannot be sure that the cohort would have been at full strength, it was nevertheless a formidable force. But was it excessive? In the light of our study of the ministry of Jesus as it is portrayed in the first edition, there are reasons to think not. Toward the end of Jesus’ public ministry, the issue for the chief priests and Pharisees was the growing popularity of Jesus and the large crowds that followed him. It was now less than a day before the beginning of Passover and the very time when a public revolt against the Romans, inspired by the Exodus, could be expected. The fact that there were Roman troops in Jerusalem at the time was due to the fact that
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the Romans always expected trouble at Passover and the Prefect, in this case Pilate, always moved from Caesarea to Jerusalem together with considerable troops precisely to quell any disturbance that would erupt during the festival (cf. Josephus, Ant. 20.5.3; J.W. 2.12.1). In an echo of the Johannine account, Josephus reports a disturbance in Jerusalem at the time of Passover shortly after the death of Herod. Supporters of Judas and Matthias, who had torn down the golden eagle from the Temple (cf. Ant. 17.6.2), were recruiting followers in the Temple. Archelaus sent in a tribune in command of a cohort to quell the disturbance. The crowd becomes incensed and stones the soldiers reportedly killing the majority of them and wounding the tribune (J.W. 2.1.3; cf. Ant. 17.9.3). If there was a crowd with Jesus in the garden—and the Roman officials would have had no way of knowing—it could easily take a cohort to control the situation and to secure Jesus’ arrest. As it turned out, when Judas and the arresting forces arrive at the garden, there are only a few men with Jesus, perhaps a dozen. Jesus goes out and asks the arresting party whom they are looking for and when they say they are looking for Jesus he identifies himself as that person. J. Taylor has noticed the curious statement that Jesus “went out” to meet them and has argued that this probably indicates some detailed knowledge of where the events took place that night.51 The garden where Jesus was staying was in fact an olive grove. Taylor points out that there was (and still is) a large cave in the hillside that was the site of an olive press, for extracting oil from the olives during the harvest. The rest of the year the cave probably would have remained vacant. At the time of Passover in Jerusalem, the nights are cool and there is regularly a heavy dew. As a result, if Jesus and his disciples were to spend the night on the hillside, they would probably have sought the cover and protection of the cave. The fact that Jesus “comes out” to meet the arresting party is best explained by this scenario: he was coming out of the cave. We need to keep in mind that in this earliest material, there is no mention of Jesus kneeling in prayer with some of the disciples at a distance, as is presented in Luke’s Gospel. In the scene presented here, both Jesus and his disciples are inside the cave and Jesus hears the noise of the approaching soldiers and goes out to find out what is happening. This mention of “going out” is perhaps another of the unconscious details that have so often marked the material of the first edition and provide it with such a strong sense of, if not the recollection of an eye witness, certainly of one who had accurate information. The next event is the action of Peter who took out his sword and cut off the right ear of the high priest’s servant, whose name was Malchus. Again we find more detail in this Johannine notice than we do in any of the other accounts. Malchus, the servant, is named only in John. Peter, the one who cut off the ear, is also named only in John. And finally only in John and Luke is it specified that the severed ear was the servant’s right ear. The words of Jesus are quite simple and do not present elaborate theologizing. Jesus will accept the destiny that the Father has given him.
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The question, of course, regards the intent of Peter’s action. Was this an indication that at least some of Jesus’ followers could think of armed resistance to the Romans? Such an action would seem folly given the presence of a cohort of Roman soldiers! Yet Jesus’ words to Peter do not imply that the action was foolish but only of Jesus’ desire to accept the cup given him by the Father. Peter is portrayed as willing to fight here; yet a short time later, he will be denying that he even knew Jesus.52 To summarize: Again we have the sense that we are dealing with an account that has much information that is hardly essential to the narrative but which spontaneously provides considerable evidence of being accurate. Some uncertainty remains concerning the meaning we are to take from Peter’s action. There is a substantial gap between 18:11 and 18:19. John 18:19-27 19
So the high priest asked Jesus about his disciples and about his teaching. 20Jesus answered him, “I have spoken openly to the world. I always taught in the synagogue and in the Temple, where all the Jews gather, and I have said nothing in secret. 21 Why do you ask me? Ask the listeners what I said to them. These certainly know what I said.” 22As Jesus was saying these things, one of the attendants standing nearby slapped Jesus, saying, “Do you answer the high priest in this way?” 23Jesus answered him, “If I have spoken in an evil way, bear witness about the evil. If I have spoken properly, why do you strike me?” 24
So Annas sent him bound to Caiaphas, the high priest.
So they said to him, “Are not you also one of this man’s disciples?” He denied it and said, “I am not.” 26One of the servants of the high priest, a relative of the one whose ear Peter cut off, said, “Did I not see you in the garden with him?” 27Again Peter denied it. And right then a rooster crowed. The scene commences with Jesus appearing before the high priest, who is later identified as Annas. Annas had been high priest from 6 CE to 15 CE. However, he remained an immensely powerful individual and was the father of five sons who became high priests and was the father-in-law of Caiaphas, the reigning high priest. The hearing before Annas would have had no official status but was an indication of the amount of unofficial power he still commanded. Annas asks Jesus about his teaching but Jesus insists that he has always spoken openly and that, if there is a question about it, it was possible to ask anyone who heard him. At that, one of the attendants slapped Jesus, accusing him of insulting Annas; but Jesus simply responded that if he had spoken the truth why was he being struck. There is no more of the hearing before Annas recorded in the Gospel. Annas now sends Jesus to Caiaphas. We hear nothing of that hearing. The text of the earliest stratum resumes with a group of servants questioning a person who is unnamed at the beginning of the passage but who is implicitly identified in the next verse as Peter. First, Peter denies that he is a disciple of Jesus. Then another servant who was a relative of Malchus, whose ear Peter had cut off, says that he saw Peter in the garden but again Peter denies it. Then a rooster crows.
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Interestingly, in what remains of the earliest stratum of material, there is no mention of a prediction of Peter’s denial, nor a mention of a third denial, nor, finally, is there a notice that the events were a fulfillment of a prophecy. To summarize: The author in this passage has moved the narrative along, but has given us very little significant information other than the fact that Jesus was brought before Annas before being brought before Caiaphas. The mention of a hearing before Annas is unique in the New Testament. Caiaphas is mentioned in connection with the trial of Jesus elsewhere only in Matthew (26:3, 57). Both Annas and Caiaphas together are mentioned elsewhere only in Luke’s dating of the beginning of the ministry of John the Baptist (3:2). John 18:28-29, 33-35 28
So they led Jesus from Caiaphas to the Praetorium. It was early in the morning and they themselves did not go into the Praetorium so they would not be ritually defiled but might eat the Passover. 29So Pilate came out to them and said, “What accusation do you bring against this man?” 33 So Pilate went back into the Praetorium again and called Jesus and said to him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” 34Jesus answered, “Do you say this of yourself or did others speak to you about me?” 35Pilate answered, “Am I a Jew? Your people and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What did you do?”
The Praetorium was, by Roman definition, wherever the Roman governor stayed when lodged in a particular place. Although it was once thought that the Roman prefect lodged at the Fortress Antonia, it is now generally agreed that he stayed at Herod’s palace on the west side of the city just south of the Joppa gate. Jesus is said to be taken to the Praetorium early. The Greek word proï (“early”) could have the specific meaning of “the last watch of the night” that occurred between 3 a.m. and 6 a.m. We know from ancient sources that Roman officials began their official duties quite early in the day, close to sunrise, so this may well be yet another of the incidental but accurate details of the first edition material.53 In this material we also see the first indication of the chronology of the Passion that is unique to John. This trial is taking place on the morning of the day before Passover, not on Passover itself, as it is portrayed in the Synoptics. The Johannine chronology has been discussed considerably.54 Without entering into a detailed discussion, it is useful to point to two factors that make the Johannine chronology more likely. First, it is intrinsically unlikely that the Jewish religious officials such as Annas and Caiaphas would interrupt the celebration of Passover (i.e., the very time of the meal that was to be presided over by the head of the household) to convene the Sanhedrin. Second, if the practice of the release of a prisoner at the time of Passover is historical (and we cannot be certain that it is), such a release would make more sense if it took place the day before Passover since the prisoner would then be able to celebrate the Passover with his family. In addition, such a release would be done for political purposes, to assuage the anger of the crowds against the Romans. A release on the day of Passover would defeat the purpose of the release since all the people would be at home keeping the Passover and would not know of the release.
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Yet another detail that we learn from this material is that the Jewish officials did not enter the Praetorium since Romans were presumed to be unclean by corpse impurity and entering such a building would render Jews ritually unclean and so unable to eat the Passover meal.55 This is mentioned only in this material within the New Testament. Pilate accedes to the religious sensitivities of the Jews and comes out to meet the authorities and to inquire about the accusation brought against Jesus.56 However, the original response of the authorities has been removed and replaced with a response by one of the later authors. Yet, it would appear that the accusation was that Jesus claimed to be “King of the Jews” since it is this claim that Pilate brings to Jesus when Pilate reenters the Praetorium. Jesus asks whether Pilate himself brings this concern or whether others were bringing it. Pilate asks sarcastically whether he himself was a Jew and reminds Jesus that his own people and the chief priests have handed him over. Pilate is curious what Jesus could have done to warrant this treatment. But the material breaks off at this point. However, the central point is clear: Jesus is being accused of political wrongdoing and ultimately of sedition.57 To summarize: We continue to encounter details that are peripheral to the action yet accurate and specific (the time of day Jesus is brought before Pilate, the concern of the Jews not to incur ritual impurity by entering the Praetorium) indicating a thorough knowledge of circumstances of the trial and the Jewish regulations regarding defilement. There is now a gap of three verses. John 18:38b-19:4 39
“But you have a custom that I release one person to you at Passover. Do you want me to release the king of the Jews to you?” 40They cried out again saying, “Not this one, but Barabbas.” Barabbas was a bandit. 19:1
So then Pilate took Jesus and scourged him. 2And the soldiers, weaving a crown out of thorns, put it on his head and wrapped him in a purple cloak, 3and they kept coming up to him and saying, “Hail, King of the Jews,” and slapping him. 4And again Pilate came out and said to them, “See, I am leading him out to you, so that you may know that I find no guilt in him.” The next we hear of events in the earliest material, Pilate has gone out of the Praetorium and is addressing the Jewish officials again. This time he mentions what was evidently a custom at the time: that the Roman governor would grant amnesty to a Jewish prisoner at Passover. There is no extant evidence of this custom yet it is likely for two reasons.58 First the historical accuracy of the earliest material in all other instances we have encountered is quite remarkable. This should incline us toward accepting this as historical although there is no specific evidence that it was (or that it was not) historical. Second, the enactment of this custom would be much more likely on the day before Passover (so that the individual would be able to celebrate the feast with his family) rather than on the day of Passover itself. This plausibility and fit is itself something of an indicator of the event’s plausibility, if not historicity. However, “they” shouted for Barabbas who was a bandit rather than for Jesus. The interpretation of this scene is so overlaid with theological reflection that it is difficult
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to see the original meaning. In this study, we are comparing what is known of the public life of Jesus with other messianic claimants around that time. The Greek word for “bandit” is lēstēs but it regularly referred to persons that would be called “outlaws.” To put this title/charge in context, Josephus describes Judas, son of Hezekiah as an archilēstēs, an “arch-lēstēs,” a “bandit/revolutionary of the first-rank.” He describes Simon of Perea as one who kept the company of robbers (lēstai). As we have seen, these individuals had political aims that they hoped to achieve by violent means. Barabbas who was being released rather than Jesus was this sort of person.59 Pilate then had Jesus scourged. This was a common practice by Roman governors. At times it was the sole punishment inflicted. For example, Josephus reports that Jesus, son of Ananias, was scourged “to the bone” (J.W. 6.5.3 §267) and then released. Next, Jesus is mocked as a king by the Romans, forcing a crown made of thorn branches onto his head and wrapping a purple cloak around him. When that was done, Pilate brought Jesus out of the Praetorium again and declared that he found him not guilty. To summarize: The actions of Pilate play out in a way that is consistent with what we hear from Josephus. Although some would argue that Pilate was so ruthless that it would be unlikely for him to release without a death sentence someone brought before him, it is true that in the year 62 CE, Albinus had Jesus, son of Ananias scourged and released. John 19:5-6 5
So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple cloak. And he said to them, “Behold the man!” 6When therefore the chief priests and the attendants saw him they cried out saying, “Crucify him, crucify him!” So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the cloak and Pilate presented him to the Jewish authorities and the chief priests and their attendants called out for him to be crucified. John 19:13-16 13
So Pilate, having heard these words, led Jesus out and sat on the official’s chair in the place called Lithostrotos (but in Hebrew, Gabbatha). 14It was the preparation day for Passover, about the sixth hour. Pilate said to them, “Am I to crucify your king?” The chief priests answered, “We have no king but Caesar.” 16So he handed him over to them to be crucified.
At that, Pilate led Jesus (further?) out to the place known as Lithostrōtos.60 This term means “stone pavement.” The term, appears twice in Josephus (J.W. 6.1.8 §202; 6.3.2 §232) where it appears to have a generic meaning that is, “pavement created by laying stone” rather than referring to a specific location known as “The Stone Pavement,” as it apparently does in the Johannine account. In John 19:13, it denotes a specific large area paved with stone and suitable for a larger gathering of people. It was located
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outside the Praetorium, a location that would agree with the description of the area outside Herod’s palace. The Hebrew name is given as Gabbatha, a term that is not a translation but rather a word that means “Raised Place” but evidently used to refer to the same location. Herod’s palace was located at the highest point in the city and this is where Pilate would be lodged. Josephus confirms the details of this “raised place” when he describes the area of the three towers (Hippicus, Phasael, and Mariamme) as “raised” with the palace adjoining them: “But while such were the proportions of these three towers, they seemed far larger owing to their site. For the old wall in which they stood was itself built on a lofty hill, and above the hill rose as it were a crest thirty cubits higher still; on this the towers stood and thus gained immensely in elevation. . . . Adjoining and on the inner side of these towers, which lay to the north of it, was the king’s palace” (Josephus, J.W. 5.4.4 §53-55). Again we see evidence of an accurate knowledge of the topography of Herod’s palace reflected in the Hebrew name for the area. This identification of the Lithostrōtos also by its Hebrew name is unique to this material within the New Testament. Pilate comes out to what was evidently an area able to hold larger crowds, where the bēma, the chair used in rendering official Roman decisions, had been placed. Pilate takes his place on the bēma and once again he asks if the religious authorities indeed want him to crucify “their king.” This scene in the Gospel bears a close resemblance to the gathering of the crowd before the bēma of the Procurator Florus to beg for mercy following a riot (Josephus, J.W. 2.14.8 §441). Again the description gives every indication of being authentic. When the Jewish authorities are questioned by Pilate, they respond that they have no king but Caesar. This was a statement that would have evoked strong feelings among Jews in the first century. We saw above in our review of Josephus’ statements about Judas the Galilean that he was reported to constantly upbraid his fellow Jews “for consenting to pay tribute to the Romans and tolerating mortal masters, after having God for their lord” (J.W. 2.8.1 §369). A statement such as is attributed to the religious authorities here would be the very antithesis of this attitude and would be a betrayal of the deepest convictions of the Jewish people. By now it is about the sixth hour, that is, about noon. The proceedings against Jesus together with his scourging and mockery have lasted about six hours. To summarize: We are able to confirm the accuracy of various elements of the scene. The area called the Lithostrōtos is unique to this material in the New Testament. In addition, the Hebrew term for the same place is confirmed by Josephus’ description of the area where the palace/Praetorium was situated. In addition, the technical term for the official chair of the procurator is used. The scene of Pilate addressing the crowd from the bēma is paralleled closely by the scene described by Josephus in which Florus addresses a Jewish crowd some years later. Finally, the description of the Jewish crowd gathered before the bēma of Pilate chanting “we have no king but Caesar” takes on a new level of meaning in the light of Josephus’ report of John of Galilee revolting precisely to oppose such a view. Josephus reveals a clearer picture of how emotional that topic was and how the original readers of this material would have understood it!
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Finally we encounter two unique terms: Lithostrōtos and Gabbatha, terms that appear only here in the New Testament. John 19:16b-22 19:16b
So they took Jesus away. 17And he went out, carrying his own cross, to what is called the Place of the Skull, (which is called in Hebrew Golgotha), 18where they crucified him and with him two others, one on each side, with Jesus in the middle. 19
Pilate wrote an inscription and placed it on the cross. It read “Jesus the Nazarene, the King of the Jews.” 20Therefore, many of the people of Judea read this inscription because the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city. And it was written in Hebrew, Latin, and Greek. 21So the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, “Do not write ‘The King of the Jews’ but that he said, ‘I am King of the Jews.’” 22Pilate responded, “What I have written, I have written.” The tradition common to all the Gospels is that Jesus was crucified with two others. The place is identified as “the Place of the Skull” and in Hebrew “Golgotha.” Both the Greek and the Hebrew translation also appear in Mark and in Matthew. Pilate wrote an inscription for the cross that read “Jesus the Nazarene, the King of the Jews.” It was written in Hebrew, Latin, and Greek and many people read it since the place of crucifixion was near the city. The chief priests asked him to change it to read “I am King of the Jews” but Pilate refused. John 19:25 25 But Jesus’ mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary the Magdalene stood by Jesus’ cross.
The only followers of Jesus that are at the cross are his mother, Mary the wife of Clopas and Mary “the Magdalene.” According to the best ancient authorities, Clopas was the brother of Joseph, the father of Jesus. His name appears only here in the New Testament. Although the mother of Jesus is not ever named in the Gospel, from other sources we know that her name was also Mary, raising to three the number of women with this name gathered at the cross. The identification of the third Mary as “the Magdalene” is unusual. It was the custom for women to be identified in relation to their husband, as is the case with the previous Mary, the wife of Clopas. This convention suggests that this Mary was not married. It is regularly thought that “Magdalene” denotes the town that she was from. J. Taylor suggests that the name of Mary’s home town was Migdal-Nunyia,61 about one mile north of Tiberias rather than the present town of Magdala.62 To summarize: Even in this short passage we see a unique reference to the Mary identified as the wife of Clopas. John 19:31 31
So the Judean bystanders, since it was Preparation Day, lest the bodies remain upon the cross on the Sabbath (for that Sabbath was a solemn day), asked Pilate . . . they be taken away.
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From this statement, we learn that there were more people gathered at the cross than just the four women mentioned above. Because they are observant Jews, these bystanders want the body of Jesus, whom we now learn has died, to be buried before sunset. He could not be buried the next day since that day was not only the Sabbath but also Passover. The fact that Pilate would allow the release of Jesus’ body so soon seems to indicate another sort of willingness to accommodate Jewish sensitivities. John 19:39-42 39
Nicodemus, who came to him first at night, came . . . , bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing one hundred litras. 40So (he) took the body of Jesus and bound it with burial cloths together with the spices as is the burial custom of the Jews. 41There was a garden in the place where Jesus was crucified and in the garden was a new grave in which no one had yet been laid. 42So, because it was the Preparation Day of the Jews and the tomb was nearby, (he) placed Jesus there. We now hear of Nicodemus for the third time in the Gospel. He alone is mentioned as preparing the body of Jesus for burial and for placing him in a new tomb nearby. It was a custom in the first century to carve tombs in the walls of abandoned quarries. This suggests that Jesus had been crucified in an abandoned quarry and the rock which is venerated today as the site of crucifixion has a large crack making it unsuitable for quarrying. Another remarkable detail found only in this material within the New Testament is that there was a garden in the place. Even this seemingly minor detail of the account has been corroborated by both literature and archaeology. Josephus refers to the Gennath Gate as the starting point of the second wall on the north side of Jerusalem (J.W. 5.4.2 §45). The name “Gennath” means “garden” the site as described by Josephus corresponds closely to the site of the crucifixion as located in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. This alone confirms the detail from the Gospel. However, N. Avigad discovered a gate precisely in this area thus also confirming the location by archaeology.63 Nicodemus is said to bring one hundred litras of myrrh and aloes. This would equal about 70 pounds in the American system of weights, seemingly a large amount but not impossible. Myrrh was a fragrant resin that was also known to be used by Egyptians for burial purposes. There is some dispute about the meaning of “aloes.” Some scholars have thought that it refers to a variety of sandalwood that was used for perfuming, but this was not normally used for burial. Others have suggested that it refers to what is known as aloe-wood. According to Herodotus, this latter was mixed with myrrh and used by Egyptians for embalming because it reduced the stench of decay. We read that there was a garden in the place. This is another detail mentioned only in the first edition within the New Testament. We are reminded once again that it is the day before the Passover. By now it was late in the afternoon with sunset and the beginning of Passover near. John 20:1 1 On the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb while it was still dark and saw that the stone had been taken away from the tomb.
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Mary Magdalene is the first to come to the tomb. As was mentioned in the context of the stone at the entrance of Lazarus’ tomb (cf. 11:39), John gives a correct description of the removal process, “taking the stone out” rather than “rolling it away.” There is some doubt about the meaning of “Magdalene” here. There is no evidence of a first century town by the name of “Magdala.” Interest in the name has increased in recent years since the discovery of a substantial town together with a first century synagogue near the present day town of Migdal.64 John 20:11b-16 She bent down into the tomb 12and she saw two angels clothed in white seated where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and one at the feet. 13And they said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken my master and I do not know where they have put him.” 14 Having said these things, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, and did not know that it was Jesus. 15Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom do you seek?” Thinking that it was the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you took him, tell me where you have put him; and I will take him away.” 16Jesus said to her, “Mary.” Turning around, she said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni” (which is translated Teacher).
The fact that Mary is described as “bending down” reflects an awareness on the part of the author that the openings of such tombs were low and narrow to make sealing the tomb easier to prevent vermin from entering the tomb. It is once again an instance of specific knowledge that is not necessary to the scene and unique to the Johannine account. The fact that Mary is said to see two angels, on at the head and one at the feet, is also an indication that the body had been placed in an archisolium niche rather than in a kokh-type niche.65 When Mary first sees Jesus, she does not recognize him and thinks that he is the gardener.66 She asks that, if he removed the body, could she have it to take it away. Then Jesus addresses her as Mary and she recognizes him. She calls out to him “Rabbouni.” At this point, the text of the earliest material breaks off and we learn nothing else of the post-Resurrection events in the first edition. To summarize: we read of Mary bending down to see into the tomb and we read again of John’s unique reference to the place as a “garden” and that perhaps Jesus was the gardener. John 20:30-31 30
On the one hand, Jesus performed many and varied signs before [his] disciples that are not written in this book; 31but, on the other, these have been written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God. Remarkably, the conclusion of the earliest stratum of the Gospel has been preserved although it was later modified to include the theological convictions of the later author.67 As had been the case throughout, the miracles are referred to as signs and
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attention is called to their number and variety. Their purpose is also clear: they were intended to bring about belief that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of God.68 And with that the material of the earliest stratum of the Gospel ends.
Conclusions regarding the material of the first edition of the Gospel of John Now that we have reviewed the first edition of the Gospel in the context of first century Israel, we are in a position to make some more general observations regarding the material.
Verification: The accuracy of the information that can be evaluated 1. It is striking to note, in retrospect, that this document contains no teaching of Jesus. Of course it is possible that the teaching sections were edited out at the time of the second edition because there are allusions to Jesus’ teaching. In 18:19-21, during Jesus’ hearing before Annas, he is asked about his teaching and Jesus replies that he has always taught openly and that Annas could find out Jesus’ teaching by asking anyone who heard him. Nothing was said in secret. Nicodemus was said to have come to Jesus by night and questioned him. Although there is no response remaining in the material now preserved in the larger Gospel, we can presume that Jesus gave him an answer. But aside from these oblique references, there is no indication of teaching. 2. Yet if one reads through the material of the first edition without stopping at chapter and verse divisions, one gets the sense of a complete narrative, recounting the deeds of Jesus, from the gathering of his first disciples through to his death and Resurrection. He moves from town to town, he visits Jerusalem for the major feasts, he works signs and crowds of people come to believe in him. We read of mounting hostility and Jesus’ attempts to avoid it up to the time of Passover after the raising of Lazarus. And then there is the conclusion that states that this has been a record of the signs of Jesus. Even as it appears in its fragmentary form, it remains completely true that this document is a record of the signs, not the teaching of Jesus. 3. What then is the genre of this document? In the strictest sense, it could be classified as an aretalogy, that is, a narrative recounting the miraculous deeds of a divine figure; but it is clearly couched in a format that is Jewish. The wondrous deeds of Jesus are patterned on the deeds of Moses at the time of the Exodus and are meant to show that “God is with him.” In 1 Cor 1:22, Paul makes a statement about what aspects of Christianity were immediately appealing to, and expected by, Jews and Greeks. Paul says: “For Jews demand signs” and the similarity of what the first edition material provides and what the Jews are said to expect is remarkable.
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As John 20:30-31 says: “These [signs] have been written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God.” This was the purpose of this document; this was what was desired by Jews.69 4. What else can be said of the character of this document? It would appear that this document did not have a view of the death of Jesus as being sacrificial or atoning. I have cautioned about drawing conclusions on the basis of the absence of material in a document that has been obviously edited and portions removed. However, with that caution, it does appear that in this document Jesus’ death is being presented as a tragedy rather than as a sacrifice. Jesus is not put to death because of his message; he is executed out of expediency, in order to prevent military action against the nation by the Romans. 5. Another feature that becomes evident from a review of this first edition material is that it is thoroughly Jewish but it is not apocalyptic in any sense. There is no dualism, no reference to a world of demons that would affect or control activity in this world, nor does this material say anything about judgment or the end of the world. 6. It is also significant that, in a Gospel that is often described as presenting a picture of the history of the Johannine Community rather than the ministry of Jesus, this edition contains none of the material (often anachronistic to the ministry) that is pointed to as picturing the circumstances of the Community.
The matter of verification The examination of the earliest material in the Gospel of John has yielded a clear and consistent picture. There is nothing in this material that is either anachronistic to the ministry or that gives any indication of being unhistorical. The knowledge of Judea and the city of Jerusalem is detailed and accurate and almost always unique to the material we have examined. Such details are listed below. The fact that this knowledge is revealed even in matters of no consequence for the overall message of the Gospel is another indication of its authenticity. The writer of this document was a person that was intimately familiar with Judea in the first century. He was undoubtedly a Jew. It is also significant for understanding the composition of the Gospel to point out that almost all such details are unique to the first edition of the Gospel (see Table 5.1). The document also contains a number of details that confirm the author’s familiarity with customs and regulations of the Jewish community in the first century. These are listed below. As was the case with the topographical information described above, the first edition of the Gospel contains a considerable number of details that are specific, accurate and at the same time unique to this material (see Table 5.2).
Verisimilitude: The comparison with the accounts in Josephus All of the elements above can be verified. When we turn to the accounts in Josephus, we can discover whether Jesus and the “movement” that gathered around him
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Table 5.1 Locations Unique to the Earliest Stratum of the Gospel Not Only within the Gospel but within the Entire New Testament Bethany-beyond-the-Jordan Cana (unique to the first edition and chapter 21) Aenon-near-Salim Jacob’s Well Sychar Sea of Tiberias (unique to the first edition and chapter 21) Pool of Bethesda Pool of Siloam Bethany Ephraim Winter-flowing Kidron Jesus staying in a cave on the hillside The Lithostrōtos The Hebrew name for the Lithostrōtos Golgotha The tomb of Jesus close by Table 5.2 Accurate Knowledge of Jewish Customs and Practices Not Mentioned Elsewhere in the New Testament Water jars made of stone for purification Knowledge of and reference to the ’am ha-aretz Passover meal must be eaten in ritual purity Seven days needed to purify from corpse impurity Jesus taken to the Praetorium “early” Entering the house of a Gentile (i.e., the Praetorium) renders a person unclean and unable to eat the Passover the next day Mary “bending down” to see into the tomb Proper understanding of tomb closure (“remove stone”) is portrayed in such a way as to fit well into the historical circumstances of the first century. We can learn something by grouping the individuals and their aspirations. In the early days of the century, soon after the death of Herod the Great, the would-be leaders aspired to kingship (Judas, son of Hezekiah; Simon of Perea and Athronges). However, from the mid-50s, the tendency was for individuals to claim the title of prophet. Eight of the individuals described by Josephus are said to have led armed groups. Three of the individuals led groups that were nonviolent: Judas the Galilean, Theudas, and the false prophet. In the eyes of Josephus, four of these pretenders to kingship are lēstai (thieves, bandits, leaders of bands of outlaws). Still others are leaders who are killed or attacked by Romans for fear of their movements, even though they are not explicitly said to have political or military aspirations. This would be true of John the Baptist and Theudas.
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Important for our purposes is the fact that Josephus’ descriptions make it clear that John the Baptist, Jesus of Nazareth, and his brother James were of a very different type of leader and none of the labels used for the other leaders are applied to them. Josephus had labeled these other figures “imposter,” someone “who made light of mendacity,” or “charlatans.” He labels Jesus “a wise man” who was condemned to the cross “because of an accusation made by the leading men among us,” and a man “whose followers have not died out to this day.”
A comparison with the views of R. A. Horsley on Josephus It must be said that the appraisal of these movements that I have put forth, based on the descriptions by Josephus, differs considerably from that of R. Horsley who has written extensively on Jesus in the context of popular movements in the first century. Horsley summarizes his convictions regarding the relevance of the accounts in Josephus as providing a context for understanding the movement associated with Jesus as follows: “The mission of Jesus is framed by the widespread revolts against the Roman and Jerusalem rulers in 4 BCE and the great revolt of 66–70 CE. Jesus and his movement emerged in just this historical context. Thus a survey of both the scribal texts and protests and the popular movements of resistance and renewal may help elucidate Jesus’ mission, the role(s) he adapted, and the movement that focused on him.”70 While I would agree with this general intent, my reading of Josephus would find his accounts somewhat more diverse and nuanced than Horsley would. For example, Horsley explains that Josephus had a hostile attitude toward popular movements because of his status as one of the elite of society and the accounts need to be read while keeping this in mind. Horsley states: After the tyrannical oppressive rule of Herod, who had been installed by the Romans as “King of the Judeans,” the people were eager to have a king from among their own ranks who would lead them in throwing off the yoke of Roman rule, just as David had led their ancestors in beating back the Philistines. Far from looking to aristocratic families for leadership, the people focused on charismatic figures of humble origins. Hezekiah had been a popular brigand-chieftain in Galilee whom the young military strongman Herod had killed, evoking an outcry among the people. So it is very likely that the son of such a popular hero could have quickly emerged as the acclaimed leader of the uprising in Galilee.71
If we quote Josephus on the death of Hezekiah, we read: “Herod, energetic by nature, at once found material to test his metal. Discovering that Ezekias, a brigand-chief (archilēstēs), at the head of a large horde, was ravaging the district on the Syrian frontier, he caught him and put him and many of the brigands (lēstai) to death. This welcome achievement was immensely admired by the Syrians. Up and down the villages and in the towns the praises of Herod were sung, as the restorer of their peace and possessions” (J.W. 1.10.5 §95). Horsley so adjusts his interpretation of Josephus’ “hostile attitude” to common people that he understands the facts to be the opposite of what Josephus says.72
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From the period immediately before the Jewish War, Horsley lists the Samaritan Prophet, Theudas, and the Egyptian Prophet, and then describes them and their movements as “clearly nonviolent.”73 Unless we ignore completely Josephus’ description of the Samaritan and the Egyptian prophets, this statement by Horsley cannot stand. According to Josephus, in response to the appeal of the Samaritan Prophet: “His hearers . . . appeared in arms. . . . But before they could ascend, Pilate blocked their projected route up the mountain with a detachment of cavalry and heavy-armed infantry, who in an encounter with the firstcomers in the village slew some in a pitched battle and put the others to flight. Many prisoners were taken, of whom Pilate put to death the principal leaders and those who were most influential among the fugitives” (Ant. 18.4.1 §63). This is hardly nonviolence! Josephus describes the Egyptian prophet as leading 30,000 (probably an exaggeration but meant to indicate considerable crowds of) followers to the Mount of Olives, “to force an entrance into Jerusalem, and after overpowering the Roman garrison, to set himself up tyrant of the people, employing those who poured in with him as his bodyguard. . . . The outcome of the ensuing engagement was that the Egyptian escaped with a few of his followers; most of his force were killed or taken prisoners” (J.W. 2.13.5 § 425). The Egyptian prophet also has military and political aims and is hardly nonviolent. Only Josephus’ description of Theudas suggests that he had no political or military goals. Even if we grant that Josephus did have his prejudices, and just about all scholars recognize this to be true to some degree, when we examine his attitude toward the leaders of popular movements in the first century, it is clear that he does not see all the movements he describes as essentially the same. In addition to the fact that Josephus sees considerable difference between the various leaders of popular movements, it would seem that we are able to judge the extent of Josephus’ “distortion” of the facts (or lack thereof) by the way he describes John the Baptist, Jesus, and James. As we have seen, these three are portrayed in ways that are quite different from the way he portrays other popular leaders. This would indicate that Josephus does not “paint them all with the same brush.” It remains true that the reports of Josephus provide a remarkably useful context for evaluating the verisimilitude of the ministry of Jesus as portrayed in the material of the earliest version of the Gospel. Here we may summarize our findings.
1. John the Baptist. Josephus presents the ministry of John as radically different from any of the insurrectionist movements he describes. John’s ministry was such that he gained great popularity but Josephus does not consider him to have ever been a threat. Rather he was a victim of the suspiciousness of Herod Antipas who feared that anyone as popular as John could possibly become a threat and so had him imprisoned and executed. 2. Jesus of Nazareth, the person. Josephus presents his evaluation of Jesus in terms that bear no resemblance to his evaluation of the insurrectionists. 3. The Ministry of Jesus of Nazareth. The most remarkable similarity in the ministry of Jesus occurs in connection with the events surrounding Jesus’ condemnation. i. Within the historical context of the first century, the ministry of Jesus could be classed as one of the many popular movements of the time. This is clear. Jesus was not an “authorized” individual, just as was the case with John the Baptist.
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Yet he gained a large popular following, a fact that is stressed again and again in the material from the Gospel of John. At the same time, in the earliest stratum of material in the Gospel, there is no indication that the “Jesus movement” had any political or military aims. The only possible exception would be the action of Peter in the garden, but that was ambiguous at the start and it is rejected by Jesus in any case. At the same time, it is useful to note that at the time of the second edition, material is added that makes it clear that there were some who had political aims and that Jesus rejected them. The first of these was his rejection of the crowds’ attempts to make him king following the multiplication of the loaves (6:15). The second was the portrait of Jesus entering Jerusalem before the final Passover on a donkey (12:12-16). ii. In John 11:47-50, we find the (only) account of the official condemnation of Jesus by the Jewish Sanhedrin that had been convened by the chief priests and Pharisees under the high priesthood of Caiaphas. Although the religious authorities had opposed Jesus because he violated the Sabbath,74 their reason given in the official decision is not religious but political. The likelihood that this could well have been the actual reason for Jesus’ condemnation is strengthened by the fact that this was precisely the reason reported by Josephus for putting John the Baptist to death. iii. We have also seen two instances in Josephus of just what the enmity of the Romans would mean for the Jewish nation if someone like Jesus was allowed to continue. The Romans would destroy (a) the city; (b) the Temple; (c) the nation/the people. Although the wording in each instance is different, the ideas are remarkably similar—almost identical. What is being expressed here in the Johannine text was the common concern of those in Jerusalem who were faced with the possibility of Roman military action for events considered hostile. iv. While we may easily take the statement of Caiaphas at the meeting of the Sanhedrin (that it is better for one person to die) to be a casual comment, it is very likely that it would have been seen as something quite different by its original readers. We have seen that there is considerable debate recorded among the writings of the later rabbis about the propriety of such a principle. We have seen that it was based on a discussion of 2 Sam 20 and so would undoubtedly have been a matter for debate long before the time of the rabbis. If the common people were not familiar with the technicalities of such debate, they would have been a least generally familiar with the issues involved. But for the religious leaders, greater knowledge would be presumed. With the quote of this principle of expediency, the Johannine writer is placing Caiaphas on the wrong side of the debate at a time when he is acting in his official capacity in a capital case. Thus we see that the Johannine writer is not just repeating a casual comment but showing Caiaphas as sacrificing basic ethical principles to achieve the death of Jesus. v. In the actual trial before Pilate, we see another statement by the Jewish authorities that would have been perceived as a betrayal of their deepest convictions about the kingship of Yahweh. The nonviolent movement of Judas the Galilean had as its primary purpose complete resistance to the notion that
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anyone other than Yahweh could have mastery over the nation. The statement of the chief priests in 19:15 would be a complete rejection of that conviction. In addition to these more significant similarities, we have also seen others. It was typical for public figures to receive acclaim at feasts when the crowds in Jerusalem were larger. It was common for the Romans to send troops to Jerusalem during the major feasts to prevent any public uprisings. The description of Barabbas as a lēstēs fits well the tenor of the times. We have also seen the practice of Roman officials addressing a Jewish audience from the bēma as happens in the Passion account in the earliest material of the Gospel.
Historicity: Is there a “Tilt”? We have now examined the topographical information of the Gospel and found it to be precise and accurate. We have seen detailed information about customs and practices that have also been verified. Again none of these details were required by the narrative. Finally we have seen a considerable number of parallels to events and practices as recorded by Josephus. These indicated that what is being reported by the author of the earliest material in the Gospel of John is consistent with events and practices at the time.75 We have asked about verification and verisimilitude. In both cases we found a remarkable confirmation of the details in the Johannine account. There is nothing in this early material that would suggest it was false or inaccurate. Rather the opposite is the case. Now we must broach the question of historicity. Does this amount of verification and verisimilitude mean that the earliest material as a whole is an accurate historical portrayal of the ministry of Jesus? Did Jesus really perform such signs? Such a conclusion would be reckless based only on the evidence presented in this study. Nor can we, on the basis of this material, make a judgment concerning the nature of the deeds (“signs”) reportedly performed by Jesus. At the same time, given the amount of verifiable material and the extent to which that material can be determined to be accurate, I believe that there emerges something of a “tilt” in our attitude toward the possible historicity of this early material. By this I mean that the accuracy that we have discovered about much of the material in the earliest stratum of the Gospel should, I contend, give us encouragement and a certain optimism to devote more study to the possible historicity of the other material in this stratum of the Gospel. The accuracy of what we have discovered should lend considerable weight to the exploration of the historicity of this material.76 At the same time, if the material of the second edition is the result of Christian prophecy, a likelihood that cannot be pursued here, then we have an explanation of the great amount of material that is verifiable and verisimilar and at the same time an explanation of why we should not expect to find material of that orientation in the second edition. Together these factors reveal the considerable value of studying the Gospel from the point of view of its various levels of composition.
6
John 2:20, “Forty-Six Years”: Revisiting J. A. T. Robinson’s Chronology of Jesus’ Ministry1 R. Alan Culpepper
During the academic year 1980–81, while I2 was on sabbatical in Cambridge working on Anatomy of the Fourth Gospel, I attended Cambridge’s New Testament Seminar, which met “fortnightly” in the Divinity School, and was fortunate to hear John A. T. Robinson on several occasions. On May 5, 1981, he gave a lecture on “The Chronology of Jesus’ Ministry,” which became chapter 3 of The Priority of John, published posthumously in 1985.3 His intention was to prepare a shorter version of this monograph for the 1984 Bampton Lectures, but he did not live to do so. I was intrigued with his argument that the chronology of Mark can be fitted into John’s chronology but not vice versa. Robinson’s views on John have been cited by various contributors to the work of the SBL John, Jesus, and History Seminar, but his basic argument has not been reconsidered. Most scholars apparently agree at least with his opening sentence: “The chronology of the ministry of Jesus is one of those areas where it might seem that by now only fools would step in” (123). A full examination of the chronology of Jesus’ ministry and the plausibility of John’s chronology, especially the calendrical and astronomical arguments for particular years and dates, requires much more scope than is available here.4 Still, in the following pages I will summarize Robinson’s basic argument(s) briefly and then focus on the interpretation of the reference to forty-six years in John 2:20, which is a major premise in Robinson’s chronology.
Robinson’s chronology of Jesus’ ministry At the outset, Robinson summarizes “the general impression” purveyed by authors of textbooks on the Synoptics and John:
1. “The Synoptics and John give hopelessly divergent pictures, of a one-year and of a three-year ministry respectively”;
2. “If priority is to be given it must be given to the Markan outline”; 3. “The order of the material in all the Gospels is determined more by topical and theological interest than by topographical or chronological information”;
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4. Therefore, “we must be content to remain agnostic,” “it does not matter much anyhow,” and “the early church itself neither knew nor cared about such points” (123). In his characteristic fashion Robinson then set about to falsify each of these assertions. The first is “simply not true”: both the Synoptic and the Johannine accounts presuppose a two-year ministry. Further, as we have already indicated, Robinson’s basic premise is as follows: If one starts from the priority of the Synoptic evidence it is true that one cannot construct any sustained or coherent chronology of the ministry of Jesus. . . . On the other hand, if one starts from the Johannine framework, the Synoptic material can not only be fitted in but be made intelligible to itself. (124, 125)5
Second, “the presumption of the priority of the Synoptics over John must be questioned,” and where the two are incompatible, John is to be preferred “on the strength of the evidence” (124). Further, the early church took for granted a great deal more knowledge than we have (e.g., Acts 10:37-43; 26:26), and therefore the chronology of Jesus’ ministry remains important both for scholarship and for faith. Citing Scott Holland, Robinson observes that “the Synoptic chronology is a mystery to itself, full of hints which are not self-explanatory. Above all the Synoptists are saying to us in all sorts of subtle ways of Jesus in Jerusalem, ‘He has been here before’” (125).6 Among other intimations, Holland cites Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem: “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” (Matt 23:37; Luke 13:34). Robinson contends further that the Synoptic account of Jesus’ ministry cannot fit into a “Galilean springtime” (126). The only allusion to the spring season is the reference to green grass at the feeding of the five thousand in Mark 6:39. John notes an abundance of grass (John 6:10) and locates the feeding shortly before Passover, late March or early April. If Mark is correct in placing the plucking of the ears of grain earlier, which must come from the harvest season in May or June, there is a year in Mark 2-6 and another year before the final Passover in the passion narrative (126–27). Encouraged by these hints of a two-year ministry in the Synoptics as well as the references to three Passovers in John, Robinson begins to establish John’s chronology of Jesus’ ministry and fit the Synoptic chronology into it. At the end of the chapter, Robinson connects the chronology with specific dates based on his determination that John’s placement of the cleansing of the Temple early in Jesus’ ministry is more probable than the Synoptic placement at the end of the ministry—the only time in the Synoptics that Jesus is in Jerusalem—and the calendrical and astronomical arguments in favor of the determination that Jesus was crucified in April of the year 30. Based on these links between the relative chronology of events in John’s account and identifiable dates, Robinson finds that Jesus’ ministry extended from the appearance of John the Baptist in the autumn of 27 to the crucifixion in April of 30 CE.
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The cleansing of the Temple A major point for Robinson’s chronology is the date of the cleansing of the Temple. Here Robinson affirms John’s chronology with its early placement of the Temple cleansing. In support of John’s chronology he offers the following arguments:
1. John is correct in placing the Temple cleansing in the pre-Passover period, when
2. 3. 4. 5.
6.
7.
the tables of the money-changers, who converted the annual half-shekel tax, were set up in the Temple (from the 25th of Adar, three weeks prior to the feast, according to Šeqal. 1:3), rather than during the Passover itself. The Synoptists have no option but to put it late, since they record only one trip to Jerusalem (128). Mark’s connection between the Temple cleansing and the determination of the authorities to do away with Jesus “looks like his own editorial connection” (11:18). The incident is not brought up at Jesus’ trial. Jesus’ saying about the destruction of the Temple would surely have been remembered more clearly if it had been uttered just days before the trial.7 In response to the challenge to his authority in Mark, Jesus counters with a question about John the Baptist’s baptism. Robinson asks, if the cleansing occurred at the end of Jesus’ ministry, “why should the authorities still fear the people’s response to him [John] when he has been out of the picture for so long?” (129). In John’s chronology, when the Baptist is still active, the question is immediately relevant. Jesus, as the coming one of Malachi’s prophecy, came suddenly to the Temple to purify it (Mal 3:1-3, 8f.). Jesus’ authority was the same as John’s: “The authority behind the one is the same as the authority behind the other” (128). The cursing of the fig tree, symbolic of the fate of Israel, must have occurred in early spring. It too reflects the Baptist’s influence, and may have been a prophetic enactment of his warning: “Prove your repentance by the fruit it bears . . . . Every tree that fails to produce good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire” (Matt 3:8-10; Luke 3:8-9). John supplies an incidental date that confirms the placement of the Temple cleansing early in Jesus’ ministry (John 2:20): the Jews say the Temple had been under construction for forty-six years. Based on Josephus’ report that Herod the Great started the rebuilding of the Temple in the eighteenth year of his reign (Ant. 15.380), Robinson calculates the reference is to 27–28 CE, which is “entirely consistent with the Johannine placing, but too early for the Synoptic” (131).
Because of the importance of the reference to forty-six years in John 2:20 for establishing the date of the Temple scene and the dates of Jesus’ ministry,8 we will examine it in detail, returning to Robinson’s arguments at relevant points below.
“Forty-six years” as a marker for the beginning of Jesus’ ministry The reference to “forty-six years” in John 2:20 is one of the most specific chronological references in the Gospels, and is therefore often used in calculating the chronology
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of Jesus’ ministry, but the meaning of this verse is not as transparent as it appears. Consider the following assessments by current interpreters. Bruce E. Schein writes: “John gives a date from which the events of the Gospel can be arranged. In 2:20, the Temple is described as in the forty-sixth year of its construction . . . it is possible to reconstruct from this peg a rough chronological sequence of events as the Gospel now stands in the canon.”9 In contrast, John P. Meier opines: “Granted all the question marks that a study of John 2:20 unearths, my opinion is that we cannot use John 2:20 to fix an exact date for the first Passover of Jesus’ ministry.”10 Francis J. Moloney also highlights this ambiguity: “As the period of forty-six years does not fit the facts . . . , the figure has been given various symbolic interpretations: Jesus’ age, the numerical value of the name ‘Adam,’ Gnostic numeric speculations, etc. The exact number of years need not trouble the reader.”11 Given the importance of this datum in Robinson’s chronology, and these widely varying estimates of its significance, let us revisit the debate over the interpretation of John’s reference to forty-six years and consider each of the factors related to its interpretation. The investigation will proceed by discussing seven key questions.
What does Josephus tell us about the construction of Herod’s Temple? Our only literary chronological information about the construction of the Temple comes from Josephus, and his references require clarification because he reports two dates for the beginning of work on the Temple: “It was at this time [Augustus’ visit to Syria in 20 BCE], in the eighteenth year of his reign, after the events mentioned above, that Herod undertook an extraordinary work, (namely) the reconstructing of the Temple of God at his own expense” (Ant. 15.380). And: “Thus, in the fifteenth year of his reign, he restored the Temple and, by erecting new foundation-walls, enlarged the surrounding area to double its former extent” (J.W. 1.401). The two references are inconsistent, and the first question concerns the date or event from which Josephus begins counting: Herod’s appointment as king in Rome (40 BCE) or his assumption of the throne in Jerusalem (37 BCE)? A third relevant reference in Josephus fixes the completion of the construction of the naos: “Into none of these courts did King Herod enter since he was not a priest and was therefore prevented from so doing. But with the construction of the porticoes and the outer courts he did busy himself, and these he finished building in eight years. The Temple itself (naou) was built by the priests in a year and six months” (Ant. 15:420-421). Harold W. Hoehner summarizes and then rejects Thomas Corbishley’s theory, published in 1935, that the discrepancy between Josephus’ dates (the eighteenth year or the fifteenth year?) can be reconciled by recognizing “that the first reference is reckoning from the time when the Roman Senate pronounced Herod king in 40 B.C. while the second reference is reckoned from the time he actually became king in 37 B.C.”12 Corbishley calculated that Herod began work on the Temple in 23/22 BCE (in the eighteenth year after 40 BCE and the fifteenth year after 37 BCE) and that it took eight years to build the Temple, which brings the date to 16/15 BCE, yielding a date forty-six years later of Passover 30 CE.13 Hoehner rejects Corbishley’s theory for
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three reasons: (1) the eighteenth year is corroborated by the reference that it coincided with the arrival of Augustus in Syria (Josephus, Ant. 15:354); (2) Corbishley assumes without any basis that Josephus computed the years from 37 BCE but his sources computed from 40 BCE;14 and (3) his computation is invalid; if one begins in 23/22 BCE, adds eight years for the building and then forty-six years, one arrives at 32/33 CE, not 30 CE.15 Corbishley’s effort to maintain the accuracy of both of the dates Josephus reports was a valiant failure. It is now widely agreed that the reference to the fifteenth year is mistaken because Josephus’ reference to the visit of Augustus to Syria excludes the fifteenth year and confirms the eighteenth year. Still, Josephus’ mistaken report in J.W. 1.401, stands as another caution and reminder that ancient chronological reports are often in error. Based on the reference to Caesar’s visit to Syria in the eighteenth year of Herod’s reign, Finegan concludes that “Josephus was evidently numbering the regnal years of Herod from his taking of Jerusalem in 37 B.C.”16 Finegan explains: “If the eighteenth year of Herod (beginning presumably on Nisan 1 . . .) corresponded with 20 B.C., Josephus was evidently numbering the regnal years of Herod from his taking of Jerusalem placed in 37 B.C.,”17 at the same time as the visit of Augustus to Syria, so in the eighteenth year, Nisan to Nisan, that is, 20/19 BCE. From this report Finegan calculates: “If, then, the priests, acting under Herod’s directive, began their work on the Temple proper in 20/19 B.C. and built it in one year and six months, they must have finished the ‘Temple itself ’ in 18/17 B.C.”18 The entire Temple complex, however, was not completed until the procuratorship of Albinus in 62–64 CE, when over 18,000 laborers were laid off (Josephus, Ant. 20:219). With these reference points in mind, we may turn to the report in John 2:20. The first issue to be addressed is how this verse should be translated.
How should John 2:20 be translated? English translations have shown a consistent preference for translating John 2:20 as a reference to the period during which construction of the Temple had been in process:19 Then sayde the Iewes: xlvi. yeares was this Temple abuyldinge: and wylt thou reare it vp in thre dayes? Then said the Jews, Forty and six years was this Temple in building, and wilt thou rear it up in three days? The Jews then said, “This Temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?” The Jews said, “This Temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and you will raise it up in three days?” They replied, “It has taken forty-six years to build this Temple, and you are going to raise it in three days?”
Tyndale New Testament, 1534 KJV, 1611/1769 NRSV, 1989
NAB, revised edition 2011 NIV, 2011, U.S.
The use of the aorist in this verse is problematic on any reading, but taking it as a constative aorist (viewing the period of construction as a whole) is more likely than
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the consummative aorist (identifying the period of time since the construction was completed). Often cited is Ezra 5:16: “Then this Sheshbazar came and laid the foundations of the house of God in Jerusalem; and from that time until now it has been under construction, and it is not yet finished.” Translators and commentators invariably took the aorist as constative before the observation was made that the Jews were speaking of the naos rather than the hieron: Beasley-Murray
Hoskyns Barrett
“Not a completed act lying in the past, for the building operations continued on the Temple until A.D. 63; rather a past process viewed from the present.”20 “The aorist stands intractably in the text” and hence must be translated “was built.”21 “‘This sanctuary was built in forty-six years.’ It seems impossible to translate otherwise. . . . The whole process is summed up and viewed as a single act.”22
Barrett then calculates that forty-six years brings us to 27/28 CE and concludes from these facts that one of the following inferences must be drawn:
(a) Grammar must be strained and the sentence translated, “Building, which is still in progress, has been going on for forty-six years.”
(b) Building had temporarily come to a halt; possibly something which might be called naos (over against hieron) had been completed, though Josephus’ account of the building operations does not suggest this. (c) John mistakenly supposed that the Temple had been completed, either calculating or conjecturing the period since it had been begun. Of these possible inferences, (c) seems to be the “most probable.”23 An alternative interpretation was proposed by scholars working on the problems of New Testament chronology. After reviewing the issues, including Jack Finegan’s argument that naos refers to the sanctuary proper rather than to the whole temple, Hoehner concludes: “Therefore, the Jews were asking Jesus how He would be able to raise up in three days the temple edifice which had stood for forty-six years.”24 Daniel B. Wallace presents this argument as follows: There are several problems with this [taking the aorist as constative], however, including the meaning of naos in John, the use of the dative’s temporal referent, and the use of the aorist . . . . First, the NT normally makes a distinction between the hieron and the naos: the hieron refers to the Temple precincts (including the courts while the naos refers to the holy place or sanctuary proper. If that distinction obtains in John 2:20, then the aorist verb oikodomēthē would refer only to the sanctuary. Notably, the sanctuary was completed in c. 18-17 BCE. Forty-six years would be 29-30 CE. Second, the dative . . . most naturally refers to a point in time, rather than an extent of time. This would fit well with a completion date of the
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sanctuary (“was built [at a point in time] forty-six years ago”). Third, there is some difficulty with taking the aorist to speak of an action that was still in process (“the Temple has been [in the process of being] built for the past forty-six years”). The imperfect would be more natural, but not at all required. These strands suggest that the aorist is more naturally taken as consummative. If so, and if this pericope occurred in the first year of Jesus’ ministry (as its location in John 2 suggests), then Jesus was probably crucified three years later, in 33 CE.25
Wallace adds a further suggestion as to how the Jews’ response still makes sense in context: To argue that “this Temple has stood for forty-six years, yet you will raise it up in three days” seems to be a non sequitur. This is not as weighty as it first appears, however. All that is required is an understanding of an implicit point: if it has stood for a long time, it is well built. Hence, how could Jesus rebuild it in three days?26
This suggested implication that the length of time the Temple has stood confirms that it was well built and therefore could not be rebuilt in three days is neither obvious nor persuasive, however. First, if John had wanted to communicate that the Temple had stood for forty-six years, or was forty-six years old, he could have chosen a different verb. Second, if the intended meaning were that the Temple had been built forty-six years ago, he could have used a construction similar to the one Paul used when he referred to “a person in Christ who fourteen years ago (πρὸ ἐτῶν δεκατεσσάρων) was caught up to the third heaven” (2 Cor 12:2). Third, the rhetorical situation, where the Jews are responding to Jesus’ claim to build the Temple in three days, demands that the contrasting reference to forty-six years is also a reference to the time it took to build (actually rebuild) the Temple.
How should the years be calculated? Before proceeding further, a survey of scholarship on this issue leads to the mystifying observation that even when scholars agree that the forty-six years should be reckoned from 20/19 BCE, they do not reach the same calendar year(s). Schein noted John’s importance for chronology while concluding that the Temple scene in John 2 occurred at Passover, 28 CE: Because of this interest in time, we should not be surprised that John gives a date from which the events of the Gospel can be arranged. In 2:20, the Temple is described as in the forty-sixth year of its construction. . . . Reckoning from this, the date of the cleansing of the Temple in John’s Gospel would be Passover, A.D. 28. . . . If the Gospel is treated as a whole, no matter what theory of editing is used, it is possible to reconstruct from this peg a rough chronological sequence of events as the Gospel now stands in the canon.27
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Others have counted differently and suggested conclusions or factors influencing their calculations: 26/27 CE “Around 26 or 27.”28 Calculating from 20 BCE arrives at “about A.D. 26.”29 26 CE, so if Jesus was born in 4 BCE he was 30.30 27 CE, calculating from 19 BCE.31 26 or 27 CE.32
Anderson Hoskyns Lindars O’Day Smith
Presumably these scholars are counting the first year (20/19 BCE) as “1” rather than “0.” 27/28 CE Bernard Brown Haenchen
Keener Schnackenburg
Thompson
“Either 27 A.D. or 28 A.D.” 33 “A.D. 27/28, or more exactly the Passover of 28.”34 “Passover of the year 28.” Haenchen cites Irenaeus, Haer. 2.22.5, that the presbyters had some information that Jesus was 40–50 years old. He may have sought to invalidate Gnostic speculations regarding the number 30, the years of Jesus’ life.35 “Most likely close to 28.”36 27–28 CE (Passover 28 CE). The date supports John’s chronology, placing the cleansing of the Temple at the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry.37 “Forty-six” years would put this conversation between Jesus and the Jews in 27–28 CE, two years before the probable date of Jesus’ crucifixion in 30 CE.38
These dates, ranging from 26 to 28, arise from differences in how the years are calculated rather than from matters of interpretation, and, as Koestenberger suggests,39 the differences in calculation may have to do with the fact that there is no 0 CE The following chart leads us to identify the Passover in John 2 as the Passover of 28 CE (recognizing that all ancient dates are approximations): BCE 20/19 0
BCE/CE 19/18 1
18/17 2
… 2/1 … 18
1/1 19
CE 1/2 20
… …
26/27 45
27/28 46
29/30 CE
(Counting from 18/17 BCE)
Koestenberger
“Forty-six years later is A.D. 29/30 (there is no year 0), which places Jesus’ first Passover in the spring of A.D. 30.”40 “After 18/17 B.C., forty-six years brings us to A.D. 29/30,”41 or spring 30 CE. Finegan accepts the three-plus-year ministry of Jesus in John, fixes the reference in John 2:20 to spring of 30 CE, and Friday, April 3, 33 CE as the date of the crucifixion. Jesus’ first Passover in Jerusalem was in the spring of 30 CE.42
Finegan, 349
Hoehner
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In summation, the three standard calculations can be attributed to differences in whether one counts the first year (20/19 BCE) as “1” rather than “0,” yielding a date of 26–27 CE; counts the first year as zero (with no 0 CE), yielding a date of 27–28 CE; or begins counting from 18/17 BCE, yielding a date of 29–30 CE.
How significant is John’s use of naos? John uses naos only in 2:19-21, where it appears to refer to the sanctuary proper. Everywhere else John uses hieron (2:15; 7:14; 8:59), all in contexts where the whole Temple complex seems to be meant. For our purposes, the questions are whether John’s use of naos in John 2:19-21 is significant, and whether it has any bearing on the reference to forty-six years. Four alternatives are possible. First, one may argue that in the New Testament the usages of the two argue that in the New Testament usage the two terms are not semantically distinct.43 Second, even if elsewhere they are distinct, the variation in words for Temple (as well as other terms) is characteristic of the Evangelist, so the distinction in meaning cannot be pressed. Third, the terms are distinct but the distinction is not significant for chronology; naos is “appropriate to the ambiguity of the Temple/ body imagery,” as in 1 Cor 6:19.44 Naos also occurs in the Synoptic parallels to this saying (Matt 26:61; 27:40; Mark 14:58; 15:29). Fourth, the distinction is significant for chronology because the naos was completed in a year and a half, while the rest of the Temple was still under construction until 63 CE, and this would have been known (by the Jews, in the tradition, by the Evangelist, and/or by the readers). The last point is relevant because the distinction in terms is relevant for chronology only if one assumes that it is known that the naos was completed in a year and a half, as Josephus later reported, and therefore the forty-six years is calculated from its completion in 18/17 BCE rather than the start of its construction in 20/19 BCE. Given the location of this saying in the argument in John 2:20, where the stronger response to Jesus’ claim would have been that it had taken forty-six years to build the Temple, it seems that the distinction in the use of the terms should be accepted, but not the argument that the use of naos rather than hieron is significant for chronology. It is not likely that John was counting from the completion of the naos.
Did the Temple incident occur at the beginning or end of Jesus’ ministry, or both? Before considering the relevance of the reference to forty-six years for the date of the Temple scene, it is important to entertain once again the question of whether John’s chronology, or that of the Synoptics is more accurate—whether Jesus “cleansed” the Temple at the beginning or the end of his ministry, or both times. All three views have current advocates. Barnabas Lindars pressed the argument that John moved the Temple scene from the end of Jesus’ ministry, where it occurs in the Synoptics and in the early tradition, to the beginning of his ministry for thematic reasons.45 By placing the Temple scene early John was able to make the raising of Lazarus the climactic sign of Jesus’ public
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ministry, so Jesus literally lays down his life for a friend, and the scene at Lazarus’ tomb foreshadows Jesus’ own death, tomb, and Resurrection. The change of sequence also sets up the trial motif in John, whereby the trial of Jesus extends throughout his ministry in the exchanges between John and the authorities. Paul N. Anderson, arguing for John’s early date, appeals to Papias’ critique of Mark’s order and suggests that “given the likelihood of at least some familiarity between the Johannine Evangelist and perhaps a public reading of Mark, John’s presentation of an early Temple cleansing may have been designed to set the record straight. This is what Papias appears to have been getting at, and John’s distinctive presentation appears intentional—corrective as well as augmentative.”46 Robinson added the argument that the Synoptics retain evidence of the association of the Temple scene with John the Baptist, hence increasing the likelihood that it occurred early in Jesus’ ministry.47 The force of this argument is weakened by several factors, however. First, the Gospel traditions do not attribute any saying about the Temple to John the Baptist. Second, while a connection may be suggested by the fact that Jesus responds to the chief priests’ question about his authority by asking them about the baptism of John (Mark 11:27-33), even here the question is couched in the past (imperfect) tense—“Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” (Mark 11:30)—as one would expect following the death of John. Third, to argue that Jesus cleansed the Temple early in his ministry because he was influenced by John early in his ministry but he would not have done so later requires that one embrace the thesis that there were two distinct phases to Jesus’ ministry. And finally, one should remember that we are not talking about a long period of time in any case but only a difference of two years for the date of the Temple cleansing: 28 CE or 30 CE. Faced with the dilemma that the Gospels record two very similar scenes in the Temple, one at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, and one at the end, some interpreters argue that both accounts are correct: Jesus cleansed the Temple twice. Leon Morris notes that the majority of John 1-5 is a block of non-Synoptic material.48 Donald Carson rejects the argument that Jesus would not have been able to get away with cleansing the Temple a second time, noting that the second cleansing occurred some two years later then the first.49 Allan Chapple developed a systematic sequence of arguments. First, the accounts of the cleansings are “simply not similar enough to be different versions of the same event.”50 Second, the rationales that have been proposed for why John would begin his account of Jesus’ ministry with the Temple scene are open to challenge.51 Third, Chapple adduces seven details that fit the early date. One of these is the reference to forty-six years, but his counting of the years is incorrect.52 Fourth, Jesus’ actions and words in the Temple in John 2 fit an early stage in his ministry.53 Finally, Chapple contends that the arguments against an early Temple event are not persuasive.54 In my opinion, it is unlikely that there were two Temple scenes historically, one reported in the Synoptics and one in John. The gospel tradition contains numerous instances of various versions of Jesus’ sayings and works, and in some instances doublets of the same tradition are even reported in the same gospel. Furthermore, Lindars’ argument still carries the day. Of the three candidates for the event that precipitated the arrest of Jesus (the celebration at his entry into Jerusalem, the “cleansing of the Temple,”
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or the raising of Lazarus), the most plausible is the Temple incident. One must still reckon with John’s thematic development and the justifiable suspicion that the raising of Lazarus, which is reported nowhere else, is the product of the Johannine tradition.
Is John correct in recording this saying in the context of the Temple incident? Regardless of one’s judgment on the placement of the Temple scene and the merits of the Johannine and the Synoptic chronologies, one must also ask whether the saying about the destruction of the Temple and rebuilding it in three days was originally attached to the Temple scene, as in John, or detached from it, as in the Synoptics. Brown suggested a separate tradition for the saying and the cleansing of the Temple as a solution to the difference in the placement of the Temple scenes in John and the Synoptics: On his first journey to Jerusalem and to the Temple at the beginning of his ministry Jesus uttered a prophetic warning about the destruction of the sanctuary. The Synoptics give evidence that later on this warning was recalled and used against Jesus, although they never tell us at what precise moment the warning had originally been given. On the other hand, it seems likely that Jesus’ action of cleansing the Temple precincts took place in the last days of his life.55
Separating the saying about the destruction and rebuilding of the Temple from the cleansing of the Temple may offer a plausible way forward, but J. Murphy-O’Connor suggested the reverse of the sequence Brown proposed: the Temple scene must be placed very early in his career, inspired by John the Baptist, while Jesus’ Temple sayings, if authentic, likely stem from the second phase of his ministry.56 Four observations can be made here. First, the reference to forty-six years is directly related to the saying about the destruction of the Temple and Jesus’ claim that he will build it in three days, but it did not necessarily occur at the cleansing of the Temple. It responds to Jesus’ saying about destroying the Temple, not to his act of overturning tables and driving out the money changers. Second, in the Synoptics this saying is connected metaphorically with building “a temple not made with hands,” a reference to the eschatological Temple or the Christian community.57 Third, John’s Christological interpretation of the saying in relation to “the temple of his body” fits John’s emphasis on Christology and John’s development of the Temple motif,58 and is therefore probably John’s interpretation of this traditional saying. Fourth, even if the saying was originally not a part of the cleansing of the Temple, a setting in or near the Temple seems likely, especially in view of the assertion “destroy this temple” (John 2:19). The tradition history of the saying is probably complicated. The occurrence of a different form of the saying in the Synoptics means that a saying about the destruction of the Temple was present early in the tradition, perhaps something like Jesus’ declaration in Mark 13:2: “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” On the basis of the parallel in Mark and Jewish eschatological expectations, the destruction of the Temple may have been anticipated as
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a prelude to the building of an eschatological Temple. The reference to “temple” (cf. the temple/body—ναὸς/σῶμα metaphor in 1 Cor 6:19) and the destruction and building a new temple suggested a metaphorical analogy to Jesus’ death and Resurrection in three days, so the phrase “after three days” (διὰ τριῶν ἡμερῶν; Mark 14:58) or “in three days” (ἐν τρισὶν ἡμέραις; Mark 15:29; John 2:20) was added. John then interpreted the saying Christologically—Jesus was speaking of the temple of his body (ἔλεγεν περὶ τοῦ ναοῦ τοῦ σώματος αὐτοῦ; John 2:21)—and inserted it in the Temple scene, which he placed at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. If the response to Jesus in John 2:20 is the product of some such process, then in assessing the importance of the reference to forty-six years for the chronology of Jesus’ ministry, we are not dealing with the ipsissima verba of those who questioned Jesus in the Temple but with a late development in the Johannine tradition.
Synthesis: What can be learned from this reference for a chronology of Jesus’ ministry? Because the interpretation of John 2:20 and its reference to forty-six years involves so many factors, a review of what we have found to this point may be helpful. First, although Josephus provides two dates for the beginning of the construction of the Temple, we can be reasonably sure that he places it in the eighteenth year of Herod’s reign, counting from 37 BCE—hence, 20/19 BCE. Second, English translations are in agreement in translating the aorist in John 2:20 as a constative aorist, meaning that the construction has taken forty-six years, and is presumably ongoing. Finegan, Hoehner, and Wallace, however, adopt an alternate interpretation, that since naos denotes the sanctuary, which Josephus reports was competed in a year and a half (18/17 BCE), the verse should be translated as claiming that the Temple has stood for forty-six years. The suggested implication that it is therefore well built and could not be rebuilt in three days is not convincing. Moreover, an appeal to the length of time it took to build the Temple would be a far stronger response to Jesus than the claim that it has stood for forty-six years. Third, although various calculations have been offered based on counting from 20/19 BCE, this datum translates to 27/28 CE, therefore Passover 28 CE. Fourth, the distinction in the use of the two terms for Temple should be accepted, but not the argument that the use of naos rather than hieron is significant for chronology, that is, that one should count from 18/17 BCE. Fifth, on balance, it is more likely that the cleansing of the Temple occurred late in Jesus’ ministry and was moved to the beginning of the ministry by John for thematic reasons. Sixth, Brown’s suggestion that the Temple saying may derive from an earlier scene in the Temple, while the cleansing of the Temple occurred at the end of Jesus’ ministry offers an attractive solution. The reference to forty-six years leads us to Passover in 28 CE, while John’s record of three Passovers then places Jesus’ death in 30 CE. From this line of argument we may conclude that while the reference to forty-six years fits well with Josephus’ reports regarding the construction of the Temple, and unrelated arguments for 30 CE as the date of the crucifixion, an abundance of caution is still warranted. Various interpretive issues are interrelated, so the chain of inferences is long and open to various alternative interpretations.
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Finally, Meier notes that the dates that we can establish with some degree of probability cluster at the beginning and end of Jesus’ ministry, but he rejects the further step of filling in a plausible outline of the ministry: “Once the two years of ministry begin, we are largely in the dark chronologically speaking.”59 Meier stresses this point because exegetes who “arrive at some vague chronological outline . . . proceed to fill the gaping hole of the public ministry with a table of neatly arranged events from John and the Synoptics—the events being meshed together according to some homogenized order and decked out with hypothetical dates.”60 Therefore, he concludes, “To use either John or the Synoptics as a chronologically reliable grid for the discrete events of the public ministry is to confuse theological artistry with historical fact.”61 In a footnote Meier comments: “That, I think, is the basic flaw in such erudite works as John A. T. Robinson’s The Priority of John.”62
7
Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel’s Depiction of the Baptist Craig S. Keener
The Fourth Gospel, like Mark and some examples of the apostolic preaching in Acts, begins the Gospel narrative with John the Baptist.1 Already in this Gospel’s Prologue (and possibly partly in the service of Johannine polemic against a Baptist sect),2 the Baptist3 functions as a witness to Jesus. Yet the Fourth Evangelist does not create his Baptist material from whole cloth.4 If, as many scholars conclude, the Fourth Gospel offers an independent eyewitness tradition for the ministry of Jesus,5 we can expect that it will provide some genuine information not contained in the Synoptics. By “independent” I do not suggest that the Fourth Gospel’s producers lacked awareness of the existence of other Gospels such as Mark—an ignorance that I contend would be well-nigh impossible among late first century Christians. Rather, the Beloved Disciple’s narrative appears to be written without direct consultation of such sources, because many sources were available (see Luke 1:1-2) and the Beloved Disciple is the Gospel’s special source.6 Claims such as John 19:35 make little sense apart from asserting that they come from an eyewitness.7 Thus we may evaluate its claims based, not on whether they are attested in other sources, but by whether they are consistent with other sources, even when, as is normally the case, they are framed in Johannine idiom. Johannine and Synoptic claims about the Baptist frequently overlap, offering special opportunity to discern the degree of freedom with which some of the early sources adapted their material. Given limited space, I will focus more on the parallels in substance (which are valuable for historical considerations) than on the differences in presentation (of greater interest for Johannine theology). After general considerations, this chapter will turn to topographic notes; Christological material paralleled in Mark and/or Q (at some length, 1:26-34); the distinctive Johannine lamb announcement (1:29, 36); and finally the Baptist sending his disciples to Jesus.
General considerations Some claims about the Baptist are not seriously disputed. Given Josephus’ testimony, scholars scarcely ever doubt that John baptized in water.8 Likewise,
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John’s location in the wilderness (Matt 11:7//Luke 7:24) is hardly disputable; he preached somewhere, and he could have safely drawn crowds ( Ant. 18.118) as long as he did nowhere else.9 The wilderness afforded him the only place for public baptisms not sanctioned by establishment leaders.10 (Further, Mark’s 1:4-5 association of the “wilderness” and the Jordan River presupposes a tradition familiar with Palestinian topography.)11 The Baptist’s martyrdom is also well-attested. Once arrested, John was imprisoned in the fortress Machaerus.12 Machaerus was in Perea, the region “across the Jordan” where the Fourth Gospel places much of John’s public ministry (1:28; 3:26; 10:40). Even outside Palestine, Machaerus was known as one of the strongest fortresses of Judea.13 Just as the Synoptic tradition may have abbreviated the overlap between Jesus and John, Josephus appears to have simplified the account of John’s martyrdom. Whereas his execution appears to quickly follow John’s arrest in Josephus, Mark (6:17, 21) and Q (Matt 11:2//Luke 7:18) both suggest that Antipas kept John imprisoned for some time before executing him.14
Expectations Some other matters, however, demand more careful deliberation. Where John covers the same ground as the Synoptics (e.g., 1:30-33; 12:25), it is clear that he usually develops earlier tradition in Johannine idiom. He indicates that he employs his material very selectively, and that he possessed a sufficient amount of it to choose what he found most appropriate to his purpose (20:30-31; cf. 21:25). A choice between Johannine theology and tradition is therefore often forced. Usually, however, we lack means to evaluate his specific claims externally. How we approach claims in a given pericope, therefore, will depend largely on the default expectations we bring to his work as a whole. If this Gospel is ancient biography, as most scholars today argue,15 we should expect that the Evangelist believes that he reports truth about genuine events in Jesus’ life, however he has framed them. Ancient biographies depended on prior information, usually fairly substantive and fairly accurate when reported about a figure from the previous generation or two. Nevertheless, some biographers—apparently including this Evangelist—adapted that information more flexibly than others.16 Inductive examination of individual pericopes provides more information in some cases than in others, since supporting evidence for various claims in the Fourth Gospel varies widely. Here I can offer only suggestions regarding these claims’ plausibility, evaluation of which ultimately depends on prior assumptions about this Gospel’s and its source(s)’ reliability. Plausibility does not constitute proof, and certainly no Johannine scholar questions at least extensive homiletical reframing in Johannine discourse. Nevertheless, plausibility is valuable if we have other grounds for viewing the Fourth Gospel as a legitimate and relatively independent witness to the historical Baptist and Jesus. Ultimately, any assessment of individual pericopes in the Fourth Gospel depends partly on our overall estimation of reliable historical tradition in this Gospel, and vice versa.
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Method Because I believe that the information in this Gospel does in fact reflect the Beloved Disciple’s eyewitness testimony about Jesus, yet I also believe that this tradition takes substantial homiletic liberties especially in discourse material, I expect the traditions to reflect both historical substance and substantial theological reworking.17 (The Beloved Disciple might also have been personally a disciple of the Baptist, but this remains uncertain; although some associate the unnamed disciple of 1:35-40 with the Beloved Disciple, this Gospel hosts many anonymous characters.)18 We cannot expect the majority of an independent witness’s testimony about the Baptist to appear in other extant sources, particularly when those sources are quite limited. Josephus provides only four paragraphs about John, and even the Synoptics devote much more attention to Jesus than to John. Nevertheless, the Fourth Evangelist’s portrait of the Baptist, though consummately Johannine, retains consistency with the Synoptic portrait at key points. (Differences in language are not paramount; paraphrase was a common exercise and verbatim recitation was not essential.)19 Significant overlap with Synoptic testimony suggests that the author of the Fourth Gospel does not fabricate John’s witness from whole cloth, but adapts existing traditions. Such parallels suggest that the narrative material without extant parallels may predate this Gospel as well, since the author could hardly anticipate which of many early sources (cf. Luke 1:1) might remain extant.
Connection between John and Jesus Like the Synoptics, the Fourth Gospel indicates a connection between John and Jesus. Despite Josephus’ silence on the matter (not surprising given his sparse treatment of both figures), some connection between the two is indeed quite likely. Josephus denounces most other first century prophetic figures, except for Joshua ben Hananiah, as false prophets and political threats. Here, however, two popular prophets of Israel’s restoration lead nonviolent movements and both face martyrdom, perhaps only a year or a few years apart. In Josephus, John appeals to the masses and appears a political threat (Ant. 18.116-119).20 Jesus’ ministry fits the same pattern; most scholars recognize the multiple attestation of themes in the Gospels such as Jesus’ concern for the marginalized and his alienation from various elites. The likeliest construction also favors both John and Jesus being eschatological prophets, and chronologically they are too close together to assume mere coincidence; many of John’s crowds became crowds following Jesus once John was imprisoned (and perhaps some of them before). Further, would the Gospels feel a need to connect Jesus with John if no connection existed? Granted, they subordinate John to Jesus (esp. Matt 11:10-11//Luke 7:27-28; Mark 1:7-8; Matt 3:14; John 1:15); but it would be far simpler to avoid mentioning him, or, if they needed to mention him, to denigrate him, as some Gospels (esp. Matthew and John) do at points with the popular Pharisees. Yet Jesus approves of John’s ministry (Matt 11:9-11//Luke 7:26-28; Mark 11:30; cf. Matt 21:32//Luke 7:29-30).
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Certainly Jesus’ baptism by John meets the criterion of embarrassment.21 Especially after Mark, all the Gospels tend to pass over Jesus’ baptism proper fairly rapidly; it was an established rhetorical principle that the narrator “should narrate most concisely whatever is likely to distress the audience.”22 The Fourth Gospel’s wholesale omission of it is, as often noted, surely intentional; rhetorical practice normally focused only on matters essential to the narrator’s purpose.23 Against some, there is no hard evidence that Jesus was technically a disciple in the sense of a student who followed John regularly (as in Matt 11:2//Luke 7:18-19; Mark 2:18; 6:29; Luke 11:1; John 1:35; 3:25; 4:1). Many were baptized by John (Mark 1:5; Josephus, Ant. 18.117) without being disciples in this narrower sense. Nevertheless, Jesus may well have been an adherent of John’s movement more generally;24 his clear association with John suggests that John’s message influenced Jesus and paved the way for his mission.
An eschatological prophet Josephus’ depiction of John as a preacher of righteousness (Ant. 18.117) fits his role as a prophet of Israel’s renewal, revealing divine truth to Israel (cf. John 1:31). But the eschatological portrait of John in the Gospels, while agreeing on these points with Josephus, fits historical plausibility better than does the more philosophic portrait in Josephus, who has adapted the figure of John for more hellenized readers.25 Because the Fourth Gospel’s portrayal of the Baptist serves the Gospel’s agenda does not mean that the Baptist historically never testified to Jesus. The Synoptics indicate that the Baptist testified to Jesus, although the Fourth Gospel underlines this witness more thoroughly. That Josephus does not mention such a component of the Baptist’s ministry is hardly surprising, since he regularly plays down messianic ideology or casts messianic-type figures in a negative light.26 Indeed, all our sources emphasize only those aspects of the Baptist’s ministry most useful to their presentation; unlike the Synoptics, Josephus tones down the prophet of eschatological judgment (as he tones down the eschatological character of the Essenes), essentially reducing John “to a popular moral philosopher in the Greco-Roman mode, with a slight hint of a neoPythagorean performing ritual lustrations.”27
Did John endorse Jesus and/or a coming one? Christian sources naturally emphasize John preparing the way for Jesus. External evidence supports this portrait in at least two ways. First, the relative chronology of these two prophetic figures and the likely connection between John and Jesus (discussed further below) suggests that, deliberately or not, John’s ministry paved the way for that of Jesus. Second, if John is an eschatological prophet, it would not be surprising for his message to include a coming exalted restorer figure of some sort.28 In view of biblical promises, the Baptist’s respect for a coming king (e.g., Isa 11:1-4; Dan 7:14) who would, like most kings, judge, makes sense on the historical level. (So do his later doubts that Jesus was fulfilling that role, in view of his mere healings and apparent lack of baptizing in fire; cf. Matt 11:3//Luke 7:19.)29
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Overlapping ministries (John 3:22-26) In 3:27-36, the Baptist testifies for Jesus, as in the opening of the Gospel (1:6-9, 15, 19-36), offering a characteristically Johannine discourse full of Johannine Christology. The narrative context of the discourse, by contrast, offers some information about Jesus’ ministry that may correct or supplement our information from the Synoptics, especially regarding two key points: an overlap between the ministries of Jesus and John, and Jesus’ disciples baptizing during his ministry. The chronological overlap between the ministries of Jesus and John in the Fourth Gospel contrasts starkly with the neater, distinct phases of ministry in Mark (Mark 1:14).30 Matthew and Luke seem to follow Mark’s picture of Jesus’ ministry following the Baptist’s, but the Fourth Gospel’s messier picture may be more accurate on this point. Granted, I generally prefer Mark’s chronology (e.g., regarding the Last Supper) to John’s; but in the case of overlap in John’s and Jesus’ ministries, Mark may have simplified the picture too much by separating their ministries chronologically.31 It seems likelier that an author would edit their ministries into successive stages, fitting Jesus’ theological outlook in Q (Matt 11:11-13; Luke 16:16),32 rather than the reverse. The Fourth Gospel’s depiction of historical overlap between the two ministries here is plausible. The Synoptics allow for little overlap between John and Jesus, presenting Jesus as John’s successor and the fulfillment of his message. One might suppose that the Fourth Evangelist overlaps Jesus with John because his story world extends the ministry of Jesus to two or three years. For an apologetic against followers of the Baptist, however, the chronology followed in Synoptic tradition would have worked well enough. (The Evangelist apparently knows the tradition circulated through Mark; 3:24 seems to respond explicitly to it.) The Evangelist’s aside, “John was not yet in prison” (3:24), serves several functions. First, it notifies members of an audience perhaps familiar with the Markan tradition that the author of the Fourth Gospel is not unaware that John would be imprisoned; it simply had not happened at this point in Jesus’ ministry, as one might gather from the Synoptic abbreviation (Mark 1:14). Second, it serves as a prolepsis for those familiar with that tradition; the Gospel must mention it here because it will not be narrated later.33 Finally, the aside sounds much like an aside in Jer 37:4, augmenting the prophetic identity of John and the reliability of his witness. Although specified only in the Fourth Gospel, the assumption that Jesus represents an intermediate connection between John’s baptism and that of the later church (John 3:22, 26; 4:1) is also a reasonable inference. Because Christian baptism is presupposed in our earliest sources (Paul, for example Rom 6:3-4; 1 Cor 1:14-17) and our depictions of the earliest events (Jesus’ post-Resurrection commission in Matt 28:19; the first Christian sermon in Acts 2:38), it seems more likely that Jesus, who moved in the Baptist’s circle, actually instituted the rite, than that later urban Jerusalem Christians or Galilean Christians more chronologically and geographically distant from the Baptist would have done so. If John demanded immersion as a sign of repentance and Jesus regarded him as a prophet, presumably he would have carried on the same tradition.34
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The Evangelist is careful to report that Jesus himself did not practice baptism (John 4:2), which might help explain why it does not appear in Synoptic tradition. Baptism by Jesus’ followers at this stage would have appeared to outsiders as merely a continuation of the Baptist’s practice by one of his former disciples. Various Baptistic sects, most notably the Essenes, may have competed in the wilderness,35 and some may have challenged the character of the Baptist’s immersions, as in John 3:25.36 That some of John’s and Jesus’ disciples also experienced rivalry (3:26) would not be surprising. Although followers of the Baptist who did not join Jesus’ movement probably remained potential competitors later (cf. Acts 19:3), including in the Fourth Evangelist’s milieu, some rivalry could have begun early. (Indeed, once past figures had attained the status of public heroes, the literary tendency was often to reduce the tensions between the schools.)37
John’s topography: Bethany (1:28) and Aenon (3:23) The specific place-name Bethany (or the less likely variant Bethabara) beyond the Jordan (1:28) has little purpose except as an historical observation.38 That much of the Baptist’s ministry occurred in Perea “beyond the Jordan” (1:28; 3:23; 10:40) fits other historical evidence; although reports place the influence of John’s itinerant ministry in both Judea and Galilee as well, Herod Antipas apparently captured John in Perea (and certainly detained him there).39 The actual site is unknown; “Not even Origen could find it.”40 (Bethany “beyond the Jordan” differs from the Bethany of John 11:1; 12:1.)41 Some suggest that it means the area of Batanea in Philip’s tetrarchy rather than a town.42 According to a common reconstruction,43 “Aenon” (“springs”) near Salim (3:23), the place with much water, is probably near the modern Ainun (“little fountain”); though Ainun lacks water, many springs remain in the region. Most significantly, this location lies east of Mount Gerizim and the ancient Shechem, which had become the leading center of Samaritan habitation.44 This means that Jesus’ ministry in “unclean” Samaria (4:9) in a sense follows his predecessor’s precedent of ministering near that region.45 Early Christian texts from Luke’s as well as John’s tradition indicate that Jesus was more open to Samaritans than were most of his Jewish contemporaries (Luke 10:33; 17:16; Acts 1:8), perhaps inspiring the success of the later Samaritan mission (Acts 8:5-25; 9:31; 15:3).46 The Evangelist lacks theological incentive to create Aenon. Historically at least three reasons suggest that the Baptist baptized in this region: First, he could draw adherents from Galilee as well as Judea.47 Second, a location near Perea, with its many Nabatean inhabitants, would render politically sensitive his denunciation of Antipas’ affair with Herodias. That affair had led to severely damaged relations with the Nabatean kingdom, whose ruler Antipas had carelessly insulted by preferring Herodias to that king’s daughter he had planned to divorce.48 Third, John was probably executed at Antipas’ fortress Machaerus, near this region.49
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Synoptic Christology: Witness to Another (1:19-34) To some extent, the Judean inquirers (1:19-25) reflect prior information; prior information certainly appears in claims about the Baptist as Isaiah’s wilderness herald (1:23), the greater one’s sandals (1:27), one ranked before the Baptist (1:30), and the one who receives and baptizes with the Spirit (1:32-33), as well as probably the Baptist’s confession of Jesus as God’s Son (1:34).
Judean inquirers (1:19-25) Outsiders’ questions about the Baptist’s identity here (John 1:19-20, 25) reflect earlier tradition. Earlier tradition confirms that some wondered whether he was the Messiah (Luke 3:15) and that he responded that one mightier than he would come after him to bestow the Spirit (Matt 3:11; Luke 3:16). The Evangelist’s narrative interests are clear in his depiction of the Baptist’s questioners. Thus, for example, the claim that the “Pharisees” sent priests and Levites (John 1:24; cf. 1:19) updates memory with language more relevant to the author’s own day.50 This is not to deny that Jerusalemites might have investigated John’s ministry. If John drew the crowds that both Josephus and the Synoptics suggest that he did,51 the Judean elite would want to investigate him before other sources might lead to the governor’s concern.52 It was possible to hear political implications in the Baptist’s message,53 and Josephus provides many examples of “false prophets” who stirred unrest and thus invited Roman intervention.54 Yet Luke 3:15 places the priests’ question here more narrowly on the hearts of “the people.” At the same time, the Fourth Gospel is not alone in suggesting that some prominent Jerusalemites came to John; in Matthew, Luke’s “crowds” approaching the Baptist (Luke 3:7) become “Pharisees and Sadducees” (Matt. 3:7; cf. 21:32). Introducing “Pharisees” is a Matthean redactional tendency,55 so the Fourth Gospel’s Jerusalemites may be simply a coincidence. Still, it is tempting to ask whether both authors’ redaction preserves some independent memory here of such a visit. John 1:19 offers this Gospel’s only mention of “priests” (in contrast to the narrower “high priests”) and its only mention of “Levites.”56 Priests and Levites gradually lost most of their political power base after the Temple’s destruction, so their role of ensuring stability here is less easily explained as Johannine adaptation than that of his “Pharisees.”57 Some features of the exchanges appear suggestive. Early Christian tradition clearly gave Jesus the role of eschatological prophet (see, for example Acts 3:22; 7:37), but the distinction between that prophet and Elijah in John 1:21 may suggest something other than mainstream Christian theology behind this passage.58 That John’s questioners later also ask why he would baptize if he is not the Messiah, Elijah, nor the Prophet (1:25) might presuppose broader knowledge of a messianic baptism (cf. Acts 1:5; 11:16), though the Fourth Evangelist has not yet mentioned this (John 1:33). The Baptist’s denial that he is Elijah is more difficult to evaluate. The Baptist’s apparel in Mark 1:6 suggests an obvious allusion to Elijah (2 Kgs 1:8), and if the historical John saw himself as a forerunner, he may have seen himself as an Elijah (cf. John 1:23; Mal 4:5). Continuing to subordinate the Baptist, the Fourth Gospel is cautious even
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regarding the role of Elijah that John seems to have played in pre-Markan tradition (cf. Mark 9:13; Matt 17:12-13; Luke 1:17). Still, the Baptist undoubtedly understood any correspondence to Elijah only in a figurative sense, possibly permitting a denial such as this one.59
Preparing the way (1:23) All four Gospels apply Isa 40:3 to the Baptist, but only the Fourth Gospel places the citation on John’s own lips. Some commentators have suggested that the wider gospel tradition originally derived the citation from the Baptist’s own usage, derived in turn from his sense of mission.60 That he applied the text to himself is plausible in view of his activity, which he presumably considered in scriptural terms (though ironically this Gospel omits the Elijah paradigm for the Baptist found in Mark 1:2, 6; Matt 11:10//Luke 7:27). Some scholars suggest that the Fourth Gospel here reflects an independent tradition about the Baptist since this Gospel, unlike the Synoptics, does not follow the Septuagint reading of Isaiah here.61 John often is eclectic in his text citations, however,62 and the divergence from the Septuagint here can be overplayed.63 What can be stated with certainty is that a wilderness pietist could apply the text to himself: the Qumran Community applied it to their own mission.64 Whereas they used the text to justify total seclusion from the rest of Israel,65 the Baptist here applies it more appropriately to his mission to Israel.
The greater one’s sandals (1:27), ranked before the Baptist (1:30) The Baptist’s testimony that his chronological successor would be greater than he (1:15, 27, 30) is good Johannine theology—yet also reflects earlier tradition. The Synoptics also testify that he humbled himself before the one whose climactic, eschatological ministry was to chronologically follow his own ministry (Mark 1:7). His self-abasement regarding the greater one’s sandals appears in Mark and probably Q (Mark 1:7; Matt 3:11; Luke 3:16).66 The minor variations, to be expected in ancient settings of oral transmission, do not affect the point: “loosening” and “carrying” sandals both convey the same image of servility, hence function identically on the semantic level.67 (Indeed, together these images constitute the two primary illustrations of slaves’ services in rabbinic texts.)68 Despite the Fourth Evangelist’s nod toward preexistence in John 1:30, historical tradition stands behind the saying about the superior one coming after the Baptist (Matt 3:11; Mark 1:7; Luke 3:16). The much more compressed Markan narrative connects in one logion the mightier coming one with the Baptist’s unworthiness to untie his sandals, as well as the Baptist’s water-baptism versus the greater Spirit-baptism (Mark 1:7-8; Matt 3:11; Luke 3:16), components scattered more widely in the Fourth Gospel (John 1:26, 27, 30, 33). “One who comes after me” may refer simply to a temporal succession of prophets, but many scholars think it reflects traditional early Christian language for “following after” in discipleship, suggesting that Jesus was among the Baptist’s disciples.69 (On this reading, Jesus is John’s disciple in 1:27, but John is not worthy to be even Jesus’ slave,
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much less his disciple.) Some scholars suspect that the Synoptics suppress a tradition of Jesus being John’s disciple; this is necessarily an argument from silence, as already noted, but only the Fourth Gospel even informs us that their ministries were partly concurrent, the Baptist beginning as the more prominent (3:22-24, 26, 30; contrast Mark 1:14). “Coming after” may, however, simply reflect eschatological nuances concerning the expected “coming one.”70
Jesus the Spirit-bearer (1:32-33) The title “holy spirit,” frequent in Judaism by this period, frames this Gospel’s pneumatology as a large inclusio (John 1:33; 20:22; cf. 14:26). Yet despite the Evangelist’s deployment of this title in his literary design, at least the first of these references clearly is not his invention (Mark 1:8; Matt 3:11; Luke 3:16). Where he can be checked against other extant sources, the Fourth Evangelist again makes his point by adapting available tradition rather than by fabricating what suits him. The Fourth Evangelist may adapt various elements of the baptism narrative for use elsewhere. As the Fourth Gospel might transfer the transfiguration (Mark 9:3) to Jesus’ entire ministry (John 1:14), so the rending of the heavens (found in Mark 1:10) might apply to Jesus’ whole ministry in John 1:51. Whereas Mark may use the message of the heavenly voice to frame Jesus’ entire ministry with the shadow of the passion (Mark 1:11; cf. 9:7), a heavenly voice in the Fourth Gospel announces Jesus’ passion more directly (John 12:28-29). Meanwhile, this Gospel substitutes the Baptist’s prophetic attestation for the original heavenly voice. By contrast, the descent of the dove resembles the dove’s descent in Mark 1:10— though the Fourth Gospel characteristically specifies that the dove, like Christ in the Fourth Gospel’s pervasive vertical dualism (e.g., John 3:13; 6:31), comes “from heaven” (1:32).71 What is most distinctive of this Gospel is that the Spirit remains on Jesus, suiting language used elsewhere in the Gospel for mutual indwelling and continuous habitation (e.g., 14:23). The Evangelist includes not only the coming of the Spirit on Jesus but also the Baptist’s proclamation about the Spirit-baptizer (1:33). Although Mark and the Fourth Evangelist report the Baptist’s proclamation about the coming one baptizing in the Spirit, Q, apparently independently and earlier, attests the Baptist’s saying in a longer form that includes a judgment-baptism in fire as well (Matt 3:11//Luke 3:16).72 Given the Baptist’s emphasis on repentance and the Essene association of the Spirit with eschatological purification,73 the claim that he proclaimed such an eschatological baptism is quite plausible.74 The image of a Spirit-baptism that supersedes a mere waterbaptism fits the comparison between outpoured water and the Spirit in the biblical prophets (Isa 32:15; 44:3; Ezek 36:25-27; 39:29; Joel 2:28-29; Zech 12:10).75 Scholars have more often disputed whether the Gospels accurately reflect the original meaning of John’s prophecy. Following the Q form, some scholars have suggested that the Baptist’s “holy spirit” may extend the image of wind separating the wheat from the chaff, hence applying to a fiery wind that would purge Israel of its sinners.76 That a wordplay may lie behind the phrase is plausible, although three reasons suggest that even in the original saying “spirit” implied especially God’s Spirit: the phrase “holy
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spirit” is much more widely established in early Judaism with reference to the Spirit of God; both fire and wind can represent the purifying spirit of Yahweh in the Hebrew Bible; and all streams of tradition in which the saying is extant include the baptism in the Holy Spirit (Mark 1:8; Matt 3:11; Luke 3:16; John 1:33), although three of the four Gospels can speak of “God’s Spirit” in the context (Mark 1:10; Matt 3:16; John 1:32).77 Contrasted with fiery judgment in Q (Matt 3:11; Luke 3:16), “holy spirit” may there refer to the purificatory aspect of the Spirit in early Judaism stressed in Essene circles.78 The Baptist’s proclamation of the eschatological Spirit is consistent with his role as a prophet of Israel’s renewal; biblical prophets had regularly connected the outpouring of God’s Spirit with Israel’s restoration (e.g., Isa 44:3; Ezek 36:24-28; 37:14; 39:28-29; Joel 3:1-2; 4:1 [ET 2:28-29; 3:1]).
God’s Son/Chosen One (1:34) The Baptist’s acclamation of Jesus based on the Spirit’s descent probably evokes the testimony of the heavenly voice at Jesus’ baptism that is also reported in the Synoptics (Mark 1:11; cf. 2 Pet 1:17). Whichever reading one takes concerning his testimony— “chosen one”79 on the grounds that later scribes copied “son” from the Synoptics,80 or “son” on somewhat better textual attestation and usual Johannine usage81—the claim probably originally recalls the heavenly voice.82 The Fourth Gospel therefore again echoes early and probably widely known traditions without needing to explicitly advertise this echoing.
A uniquely Johannine title: God’s lamb (1:29-36) Whereas the Johannine Christology of the Baptist’s witness in 1:23-34 is mostly found also in Mark or Q, the image of the sin-bearing lamb (1:29, 36) is much more distinctively Johannine and therefore invites a different sort of exploration. Scholars have proposed four main backgrounds for the lamb of 1:29: apocalyptic lambs; the lamb of Isa 53:7; and Passover and sacrificial lambs (I treat these last two proposals together). On the first reading, the Baptist announced an apocalyptic lamb, like the eschatological horned lambs of the messianic era in 1 Enoch.83 In this case, the Baptist’s public confession in 1:36 (as opposed to the relative clause in the possibly unattested confession of 1:29, which defines the lamb’s mission in terms of sin-bearing) could make historical sense in the context of the Baptist being an eschatological prophet. The evidence for this position is weak, however.84 Apocalyptic lambs before John the Baptist appear only in materials from portions of 1 Enoch (chs. 89–90; see 89:45; 90:38), and probably bear no specific function worthy of special attention by the Baptist or the Fourth Gospel.85 That is, why only the lamb image and not other apocalyptic animals?86 Even the exalted lamb in an apocalyptic work from a Johannine Community (Rev 5:6, 13; 6:16; 7:10) lacks allusion to the lambs of 1 Enoch; Revelation’s lamb may be a Passover lamb that delivers God’s people from the plagues (cf. 5:6, 9; 7:1-8, 17).87 Others have found here the language of Isaiah’s suffering servant.88 Whether a messianic reading of the servant passages was known in this period is debated,89 but it
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became the prevailing interpretation in early Christian sources (e.g., Acts 8:32; 1 Pet 2:22-24). (Some also suggest an original Aramaic term that could mean either “lamb” or “servant,”90 but this seems unlikely here.)91 Such an allusion would explain the sinbearing role of the lamb (Isa 53:4),92 and this is the only use of ἀμνός in the Septuagint of Isaiah. Nevertheless, the term does appear some ninety times in the Septuagint overall, most often with reference to sacrificial lambs. Other scholars see the primary background as a (sacrificial) Passover lamb,93 although combinations with other aspects like the suffering servant remain feasible.94 The Paschal lamb may appear here also as a sacrificial lamb,95 “taking away the world’s sins.” (Early Judaism understood Passover lambs as sacrificial.)96 That the Fourth Gospel may later portray Jesus’ death in terms of the Passover lamb (18:28; 19:36) suggests that the Gospel’s emphasis lies here.97 (In its distinctive chronology, Jesus dies on Passover; the Temple cleansing that belonged in the Synoptic tradition to his final Passover opens his public ministry, framing his whole ministry with the shadow of the passion week and its Johannine association with Passover.) This fits other early Christian images (e.g., 1 Cor 5:7; 1 Pet 1:19; Rev 5:6; 7:14), which presumably derive from some common source. At the same time it fails to elaborate in some of the more direct ways found in some other early Christian circles (cf. e.g., Rom 3:25; 5:8-9; Heb 10:10) and even Johannine circles (1 John 2:2; 4:10). If we evaluate the Fourth Gospel in terms of the Synoptics, this appears to be one of the least plausible of its claims about the Baptist; taken on its own terms, however, this claim is no more striking than Q’s implication that Jesus will baptize in fire and in God’s Spirit. Certainly the confession of Jesus as God’s lamb is Johannine theology, as already noted.98 As with some other Christological confessions in the context, however, it need not be this Gospel’s pure creation. If the Baptist acknowledged one greater than he, whose slave he was unworthy to be, who would baptize in the Spirit, and on whom he witnessed the Spirit descend (details that appear in all four extant Gospels), another significant, distinctive Christological confession is not implausible. If here, as elsewhere, the author interprets earlier tradition, one must ask if there is a plausible background for the image in the immerser’s own milieu. Given the probable failure of Dodd’s appeal to apocalyptic lambs, it seems more likely that if this Gospel preserves authentic tradition, the author is expressing the Baptist’s messianic confession in the author’s own words.99 One suggestion is a link between the lamb image and an expected new Moses,100 although this depends especially on an isolated and likely later Targumic text. In any case, traditions about the Baptist offer potential tantalizing links to lamb images; the Baptist could have drawn on these, or the Evangelist or his tradition could have done so. If the Baptist defined his mission in terms of Isa 40:3, as in John 1:23, he would have envisioned himself as a herald of the new exodus (Isa 40:9; 52:7), perhaps thinking of Israel having atoned for her own sins (Isa 40:2) but perhaps also, as in the Maccabean martyr tradition (2 Macc 7:37-38; 4 Macc 6:27-29; 17:21-22), of another atoning for Israel’s sins. One within the servant Israel could suffer for Israel as a whole (Isa 49:5; 53:4-7), and this could be described as a lamb (Isa 53:7). Further, John’s mission involved washings for purification from sin (Mark 1:4; Ant. 18.117). The Q image of baptism in the Spirit and fire, or possibly originally wind
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and fire, also indicates an expectation of eschatological cleansing.101 Eschatological cleansing associates water and the Spirit in Ezek 36:25-27, a passage frequently developed in sources familiar in wilderness sectarian circles.102 The Baptist’s eschatological expectation clearly involved the removal of Israel’s sin, whether or not the specific image of lamb is the Evangelist’s contribution. Both Q and Mark connect this eschatological purification with an exalted one103 whose way John prepares (Matt 3:11//Luke 3:16; Mark 1:8). In Mark,104 the heavenly voice105 evokes the call to Abraham to sacrifice his beloved son Isaac: Mark 1:11: “ὁ υἱός μου ὁ ἀγαπητός, ἐν σοὶ εὐδόκησα” Gen 22:2: “τὸν υἱόν σου τὸν ἀγαπητόν, ὃν ἠγάπησας”
Although God ultimately provides a better sacrifice than a lamb (a ram, Gen 22:13), the coming sacrifice twice appears as a lamb (22:7-8), perhaps foreshadowing for ancient Israelites the Passover lamb that would die in place of the firstborn (Exod 12:3-5, 21; 13:13). Yet the Fourth Gospel, for all its emphasis on the Father’s love for his Son (John 3:35; 10:17; 15:9; 17:24), does not recount this heavenly voice, so any connections would be implicit in the Evangelist’s tradition, not in the Fourth Gospel itself. Such connections allow for the possibility that even though the author capitalizes on the theology of the claim, it may stem from prior information related to the preaching of the Baptist.
Transfer students (1:35-42) Although the Fourth Evangelist is well aware of the historical tradition of the Twelve (6:71),106 he shows no interest in recounting the occasion of their call (Mark 3:13-19; Matt 10:1-4; Luke 6:12-16) or the Synoptic call stories of the fishermen (Mark 1:16-20; Matt 4:18-22; Luke 5:1-11; although the writer is well aware that some are fishermen and may know the Lukan story—John 21:3-6). Some suggest that the readiness of those disciples to abandon their livelihoods on the occasion depicted in Mark (or to lend Jesus use of their boat in Luke) may make more sense historically if they had encountered Jesus on a prior occasion as this narrative in John would suggest.107 Here the Baptist points the first disciples to Jesus, although as in the Synoptics Jesus also calls his own (1:43).108 At the most, lacking external corroboration, one may investigate the plausibility of the narrative. Would the Baptist have actually referred disciples to Jesus (1:36)? Generally disciples were to follow their own rabbis exclusively.109 Yet biographers report exceptional occasions in which teachers who became impressed with other teachers would refer their students to them, as when Antisthenes recommended that his own disciples become with him fellow-disciples of Socrates.110 Other stories of referrals are also told; when Zeno sought a teacher like Xenophon’s Socrates, a bookseller pointed out Crates and said, “Follow that man,” and Zeno became his disciple.111 If the Baptist
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recognized Jesus as the object of his witness about the mightier one, as the Synoptics suggest, it is inherently likely that he would defer to Jesus. Andrew’s commitment to his family’s fishing cooperative with Zebedee’s family (Mark 1:20; Luke 5:10) makes it unlikely that he was a full-time follower of the Baptist. He could, however, be an adherent of John’s movement. Since one could follow a teacher seasonally, perhaps the Baptist could accept “disciples” who only came and listened to him during the daytime when he was in the area. Whereas the Perean Bethany (1:28) placed the Baptist within range of Judean questioners a few days earlier (1:19), the narrative presupposes that he is now nearer the lake of Galilee, for his disciples could hardly have followed Jesus home (cf. 1:45-46) from the Perean Bethany in a single day (1:39).
Conclusion Clearly the Fourth Evangelist frames all his material in his distinctive idiom. Nevertheless, the Baptist material in the Fourth Gospel reflects some material (e.g., about the Spirit-bearer) that is clearly pre-Johannine, and other material (such as matters of topography) that is probably pre-Johannine. Some other elements (such as the lamb of God) are clearly Johannine, yet even these may be at least conceivably Johannine adaptations of pre-Johannine information.
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Can Archaeology Help Us See Jesus’ Shadows in the Gospel of John? James H. Charlesworth
Influential and gifted scholars dedicated to the study of the historical Jesus—Jesus Research—have argued that only the Synoptics should be used in such explorations. They reject the Gospel of John as too late, dependent on the Synoptics, and far too sophisticated Christologically to preserve history. The consensus seems to be that no one should dare go against the diverse phalanx of prestigious scholars like F. C. Baur, E. Renan, J. Weiss, G. Bornkamm, E. P. Sanders, N. T. Wright, J. D. G. Dunn, J. Klausner, D. Flusser, G. Vermes, and J. D. Crossan.1 I am convinced, nevertheless, that the Gospel of John is not irrelevant in the study of the historical Jesus, despite the claims of such distinguished experts in Jesus Research. Following the insights of Raymond E. Brown, it is now widely perceived that the Gospel of John had an author and more than two editors, and these writers preserved some traditions that are historically reliable.2 Brown was following the pioneering work of E. Schwartz, J. Wellhausen, and H. H. Wendt, and allowed for the uniformity of style proved by E. Schweizer3 and E. Rucksthul.4 Brown was impressed by the independence so obvious in John and the evidence, amassed by R. A. Culpepper, that the community behind the composition of John suggests the existence of a Johannine School.5 The result is clear: As Francis J. Moloney argues,6 though John displays a highly advanced and amazingly sophisticated Christology that does not mean the author and editors do not preserve early, reliable, and insightful traditions that are necessary for understanding the life and teaching of Jesus from Nazareth. The author and editors had access to sources independent of Matthew, Mark, and Luke (the Synoptics) as P. Gardner-Smith,7 C. H. Dodd,8 and D. M. Smith showed.9 It is no longer accurate to claim John is dependent on the Synoptics.10 Likewise, John may have known the final form of Mark, if he inherited the literary form of “gospel” from Mark (as Brown surmised),11 but that does not mean he was dependent on Mark’s view or his chronology of Jesus’ life. In some ways, John’s chronology seems preferable, since Mark also indicates that Jesus had been in Jerusalem and knew it well before his last week. Moody Smith rightly pointed out that John preserves passages that have as much credence for being historical as any in the Synoptics, and that Jesus’ repeated visits to Jerusalem are “historically much more plausible than the competing Synoptic account.”12
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John is indeed highly developed and sophisticated, but that does not indicate it is late, as Jesus and Paul were early, antedated John, and are clearly theologically advanced. Being late, sophisticated, and highly advanced Christologically seems to indicate to too many Johannine experts a reflection of supersessionism and a touch of Anti-Judaism or Anti-Semitism. The greatest developments were already made in Early Judaism, as proved by the Self-Glorification Hymn, the Prayer of Manasseh, the Thanksgiving Hymns, and Philo’s complicated allegorical hermeneutic. Those who work closely on the Apocrypha, the Pseudepigrapha, and the Dead Sea Scrolls are often amazed at the theological brilliance, erudite poetry, and apocalyptic sophistication preserved in early Jewish compositions. Despite the claims of the influential Ernst Käsemann,13 John’s work is in no way Docetic—though the first edition does seem naively Docetic. And John is not AntiJewish. Those mentioned in John who were afraid of being denied permission to worship, as faithful Jews, in a synagogue, prove the thesis that John is one of our most Jewish gospels and some of those in the Johannine School desired to continue to worship in the synagogue. Quoted frequently, but without insight, to prove John’s dependence on the Synoptics and lack of historical data is Clement of Alexandria’s judgment that “last of all” John “composed a spiritual Gospel” (Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 6.14). On the one hand, we should not begin our search for history in the Gospels by depending only on second century CE theological claims. On the other hand, Clement was not disparaging real history in John; he was saluting John’s theological and Christological profundity.14 As John Painter has shown, “history” and “theology” are not opposites and John as “the spiritual Gospel” does not undermine the origin of Johannine tradition in a very early traditional memory that provides an independent access to Jesus from Nazareth.15 Those who join this symposium concur that it is now time to recognize that John must be used in Jesus Research. To ignore John because most scholars devoted to the study of the historical Jesus focus only on the Synoptics is simply the blind leading the blind. The first axiom of historiography is that we must use all pertinent sources, including the putative “Signs Source.”16 Even though John significantly recasts Jesus’ message for his own time, the Gospel is historical because of its first century setting, long period of evolving through editions, and the fact that redaction demands something received from an earlier period to edit. My presuppositions are the following: First, the Gospel of John shows evidence of editing and expansion, so that the final work with 7:53–8:11 is late second century CE. The definitive edition without this pericope but with 1:1-18 dates from 90–100 CE.17 The earliest edition may have been completed in Jerusalem before 70 CE.18 Second, the ideas and dualism in the Dead Sea Scrolls, transmitted through many possible channels from John the Baptizer to the members of the Johannine School,19 illustrate that Johannine terminology and symbolism originated in pre-70 CE Palestine.20 Third, the edition of John that dates from the end of the first century shows two horizons; one is of the time of Jesus and the later one is focused on problems with Jews who control a synagogue and portrayed as hostile to the Palestinian Jesus Movement and are defined as “Pharisees.” Thus, the present chapter will focus on two fairly recent archaeological discoveries in Jerusalem and their importance for recovering aspects of Jesus life according to the
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Gospel of John.21 For those who judge, or assume, that John is characteristically a late theological work permeated with a high Christology and far removed from the Jewish world that shaped the life and mind of Jesus, the insights obtained through scientific archaeological explorations will be a surprise. Christian historians and theologians are becoming energized anew by these refreshing insights and stimuli for reexaminations. In the following discussion, I will attempt to show why Bethzatha (John 5) and Siloam (John 9) are not Christological creations by the Fourth Evangelist. Each installation has been unearthed near the remains of Herod’s Temple and now we can know that each was described accurately by the Evangelist. Together, they serve as windows through which we may peer into a Jerusalem not described by any ancient historian, including Josephus. The freshness of the new reflections on excavations may be placarded by the fact that I did not highlight Bethzatha or Siloam in The Millennium Guide for Pilgrims to the Holy Land (2000). In chapters 5 and 9, the Fourth Evangelist focuses on Jesus’ instructions. He is in Jerusalem. He has ascended to the Holy City, as a Jew faithful to Torah regulations. Why is Jesus in the Holy City? A pilgrimage to Jerusalem is demanded by Deut 16: Three times a year all your men must come before the LORD your God ( )פני יהוה אלהיךat the place he will choose ()במקום אשר יבחר: at the Festival of Unleavened Bread ()בחג המצות, and at the Festival of Weeks ()ובחג השבעות, and at the Festival of Booths ()ובחג הסכות. But no one may come into the presence of the LORD without an offering. (Deut 16:16; my translation)
For the author of Deuteronomy, the chosen place—“the place he will choose”—is only Jerusalem. In Jesus’ time, many rabbis relaxed this requirement, due to the widespread areas in which Jews lived. Most likely Jewish males came to understand the stipulation was for once in a lifetime. Yet, the Galilean Jesus is portrayed by the Evangelist John to be in Jerusalem more than once, perhaps more than three times. Thus, when the Evangelist refers to “a feast [or festival] of the Jews,” in John 5:1, we should ask: “Which one?” He offers no information. Why? Perhaps he wants the reader to focus only on Jesus. Perhaps he did not know. Perhaps he wanted to reduce the references to Passover so the Passover setting of Jesus’ Last Supper would not become de rigeur. The Evangelist does, however, know Jewish custom—as has become so obvious from recent research. Most commentators on John are probably correct to surmise that the Evangelist is thinking about Passover when he describes Jesus’ Last Supper. What can be known about the two large pools in Jerusalem that were significant in Jesus’ day (or before 70 CE)? As one descends southward from the Damascus Gate one can turn left, at the first major fork, and proceed eastward up the so-called Via dolorosa. Before the next city gate (the Sheep Gate) one can enter St. Anne’s Church and observe the remains of the Bethzatha Pool. It was excavated in the nineteenth century. Returning to the fork, one can walk southeasterly to the Pool of Siloam, which is now south of the Turkish walls of the city. The walk divides the city, especially in the south, into two ridges. Until recently, the Pool of Siloam was lost under debris from the destruction of the area by Titus’ Roman army in 70 CE.
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Bethzatha: The upper pools of Jerusalem During the time of King Hezekiah (Iron II), a pool existed north of the Temple. Note the description of a pool according to 2 Kgs 18: But the king of Assyria sent his commander-in-chief, his quartermaster, and his field-commander with a great army from Lachish to King Hezekiah in Jerusalem. They came there and stood at the channel of the Upper Pool ()בתעלת הברכה העליונה which is on the road to the Laundryman’s Field. (2 Kgs 18:17; my translation)
Isaiah also knew about the location of a pool where what is now Bethzatha is located: “Then the king of Assyria sent his field commander with a large army from Lachish to King Hezekiah at Jerusalem . . . the commander stopped at the aqueduct of the Upper Pool, on the road to the Washerman’s Field” (Isa 36:2; also see 7:3; NIV). Thus the history of a pool north of the Temple can be traced back to at least the eighth century BCE (the time of Hezekiah and Isaiah). Most likely a dam had been built across the Beth Zeta Valley; it collected rain water flowing from the northwest (where the Russian Church is today) into a reservoir. No springs exist in this area, so we should contemplate a pool for collecting rain water. Most likely about 200 BCE a second dam was added in the southern portion of the northern pool, creating a second pool just south of the older one. The pool most likely supplied water for the Temple and perhaps to those who dwelled nearby, including those in the Baris (it would become the Antonia Fortress).22 All eagerly await Dr. Shimon Gibson’s definitive publication on the Pool of Bethzatha (Bethesda) in a supplement to Proche-Orient Chrétien. He has devoted his life to the archaeology of Jerusalem and has unpublished data.23 The early Greek manuscripts of John give two names for the Pool. The first name is Βηθεσδά (Codex Alexandrinus, Codex Ephraemi Rescriptus, Codex K, Diatessaron, Didymus). The meaning of Bethesda is easy to comprehend; in Hebrew or Aramaic it means “House of Grace [or Mercy].” This reading was preferred by Stephanus and placed in the Textus Receptus of 1550. It most likely explains Jerome’s much earlier rendering; the Vulgate has Bethsaida but that is the name of a town on the northeastern shore of the Lake of Gennesaret (Sea of Galilee). Bethesda is also the accepted reading by the Greek Orthodox Church. In Syriac, beth ḥesdo ( )ܒܝܬ ܚܤܕܐprovides two distinct meanings: “House of Disgrace” (where the invalids were) and “House of Grace” (appreciation to God for healings). The less corrupt reading is Bethzatha (Βηθζαθά); it is supported by Codex Sinaiticus, Codex Bezae, Codex Regius, Minuscule 33, and Eusebius. This place name appears in the text of the twenty-eighth edition of Nestle-Aland. Βηθζαθά was also preferred by Tischendorf in his eighth edition and by Westcott and Hort in 1881. The noun provides no transparent meaning. Obviously, the text denotes the “house of ” something, but there is no Semitic word for “zatha.” It appears to be the name of the region of “the new city” just north of the Temple; this suggestion is supported by Josephus’ reference to “the hill Bezetha” in J.W. 5.246 or a village called “Berzetho” (var. Bethzetho) in Ant. 12.397. He reports that this area encompasses the “new city” (τῆς καινῆς πόλεως; J.W. 5.247).24 Most likely, Jews gave numerous names to this area north of the walls of Jerusalem at
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that time. The author of 1 Macc calls the area north of the Temple “Beth-zaith” or “Bethzetho” (Βηθζηθώ), “Berzetho” (Βηρζηθώ; LCL), or “Bezeth” (Βηζέθ [Lucian Βαιθζαρά]): “Then Bacchides withdrew from Jerusalem and encamped in Beth-zaith. And he sent and seized many of the men who had deserted to him, and some of the people, and killed them and threw them into a great pit” (NRSV; 1 Macc 7:19). Most likely, “Beth-zaith” is the area the Evangelist John calls “Bethzatha.” Perhaps it means “the House (or Place) of Zatha.” That expression could denote olives, as we know from Aramaic ;זייתSyriac ܙܝܬܐ, Arabic zait, and Ethiopic zaḭt. These Semitic nouns mean “orchard,” “olive,” and “olive tree.” I surmise that Beth-Zatha means “Place of the Olive Orchard.” It is now best to reread John 5, thinking about archaeology and historiography: After these events, Jesus went up to Jerusalem for a feast of the Jews. Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate (ἐπὶ τῇ προβατικῇ) a pool (κολυμβήθρα), which in Hebrew (Aramaic) is called Bethzatha and which is surrounded by five porticoes. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie, (especially) the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been ill for 38 years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him: “Do you want to be healed?” The sick man answered him: “Sir, I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.” Then Jesus said to him: “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” And at once the man was healed. He picked up his mat and walked. The day on which this took place was a Sabbath, and so the Jews said to the man who had been healed: “It is the Sabbath; the law forbids you to carry your mat.” But he replied: “The man who made me well said to me, ‘Pick up your mat and walk.’” So they asked him: “Who is the man who told you to pick up (the mat) and walk?” The man who was healed had no idea who it was, for Jesus had withdrawn into the crowd in that place. Later Jesus found him in the Temple and said to him: “See, you are well again. Sin no more or something worse may happen to you.” The man went away and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had healed him. (John 5:1-15; my translation)
No one should doubt that this story shows the editorial work and Tendenzen of the Evangelist John. If we stop with this observation and focus only on rhetoric and Christology we will enter the world of Johannine symbolism but we will miss the local color and the exceptional knowledge the Evangelist has of Jerusalem’s topography and architecture. Why has the Evangelist John poured so much detail into John 5:2-3? Recall the text: Ἔστιν δὲ ἐν τοῖς Ἱεροσολύμοις ἐπὶ τῇ προβατικῇ κολυμβήθρα ἡ ἐπιλεγομένη Ἑβραϊστὶ Βηθζαθὰ πέντε στοὰς ἔχουσα. ἐν ταύταις κατέκειτο πλῆθος τῶν ἀσθενούντων, τυφλῶν, χωλῶν, ξηρῶν.
Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate (ἐπὶ τῇ προβατικῇ) a pool (κολυμβήθρα), which in Hebrew (Aramaic) is called Bethzatha and which is surrounded by five porticoes. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie, (especially) the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. (my translation)
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The author informs us that there is a large pool in Jerusalem; kolymbēthra denotes a large pool. The Evangelist cannot be referring to “a swimming pool,” because the area near the Temple is sacred. It is near a place defined by sheep. Probatikē denotes something related to sheep. If the Greek text denotes a sheep pool, it cannot be a place for washing sheep. The laws of purity prohibit that designation, if the water is for those who wish to be cured and to later enter the Temple. The excavated pools are far too deep for washing a sheep. Perhaps the Greek ἐπὶ τῇ προβατικῇ denotes the gate through which sheep enter Jerusalem for sacrificing. In the 1960s, I remember seeing sheep gathered outside only this gate; it is the one closest to the area in which sheep graze to the east. The Sheep Gate today is also called the Lion’s Gate (because of lions carved above the outside gate) and Stephens’ Gate (because once this was the desired route to St. Stephen’s Monastery or École Biblique). This area, north of the Temple, was mentioned by Nehemiah: “Then Eliashib the high priest with his brothers the priests arose and rebuilt the Sheep Gate; they consecrated it and hung its doors. They consecrated (the wall) to the Tower of the Hundred and the Tower of Hananel” (Neh 3:1; cf. Neh 3:32 and 12:39; my translation). The Fourth Evangelist notes that the area has five porticoes. In this area are gathered many sick suffering from many calamities, including blindness, lameness, and dryness of skin (including all kinds of skin diseases). Along with others, I have noted caves for healing that date back into Hasmonean and Hellenistic times, suggesting this area was a location for healing cults.
The old tendency For 2,000 years New Testament scholars have searched for spiritual nourishment by claiming to perceive a brilliant Christological creation in John 5. Their blind focus on Christology led to a failure to perceive that the Evangelist may be describing, quite accurately, an architectural feature of pre-70 CE Judaism. Moving past the claim of the nineteenth century that there is “not the slightest evidence that can identify” the area near the Sheep Gate with Bethzatha,25 New Testament theologians were correct to point out that a pool called “Bethzatha” or “Bethesda” is not mentioned in ancient (pre-70 CE) descriptions of Jerusalem. We do not find the location in the early descriptions of Jerusalem by Pseudo-Hegesippus and Josephus. The mention of sheep is of little help, since there is no “gate” mentioned in John (probatikē is an adjective and the translator must supply a noun). Some critics assume that the Evangelist used imprecise words, but perhaps his descriptions were very familiar to the audience of the first edition of John. Dispensing with J. H. Bernard’s conclusion that Bethzatha is in the Kidron and south of the Temple and connected with the Gihon,26 we are left to contemplate some type of pool near some place associated with sheep in the northern exterior of Jerusalem. One can thus understand why theologians surmise that perhaps John created the place, “House of Grace,” to emphasize the “grace” supplied by the Christ. Moreover, five porticoes seem to indicate a pentagon—and such a building never existed in antiquity. Clearly, the Evangelist was not one so devoted to ancient architecture as Vitruvius, who
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composed the Ten Books on Architecture. What could the Evangelist have in mind? Some theologians imagined that by mentioning “five porticoes” most likely John was symbolizing the failure of the Pentateuch (the five books of Moses) to save. Beside the five porticoes, Jesus alone can save those calling for help. Now, we know this exegesis and homiletic is misinformed. As we turn to the new insights and archaeological discoveries, we should continue to be sensitive to the theological approach to Scripture. The Evangelist is symbolically clarifying that Jesus alone provides healing and life. But this exegesis does not demand that the Evangelist John created the pools for narrative Christology and rhetorical force.
The new insights: Archaeology and John Problems appear with the pure theological interpretation to any biblical writing. Theologians admit that the text had a context but the context they wish to focus on is their own; habitually they leave out of focus the originating context with its challenging and ambiguous phenomenology. The Evangelist John is gifted with symbols but he also stressed Jesus’ humanity, claiming that “the Word flesh became,” and portrayed Jesus as tired, thirsty, and crying. The final redactor attempts to remove any lingering Docetic Christology that appears apparent in the earliest edition. John presents a heavenly message and Jesus is clearly from above. But, the reader should not be carried away with an apocalyptic vision that portrays Jesus as one only from above. Jesus’ presence on earth and his humanity, or fleshliness, should not be missed. To claim that Jesus and not the Pentateuch can provide healing misses the fact that there is no Anti-Moses polemic in John, as M.-E. Boismard demonstrated in Moïse ou Jésus.27
Archaeology and the history of Bethzatha Despite the claim in 1929 that the site of Bethzatha “is still doubted,”28 Conrad Schick (who came to Jerusalem in 1846)29 discovered a pool, most likely Bethzatha, during excavations at Beth-Zatha in 1863–76 and in the period 1886–1900.30 Here are Schick’s publications on Siloam: “The Aqueducts at Siloam,” Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly Statement 18 (1886): 88–91. “Second Aqueduct to the Pool of Siloam,” Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly Statement 18 (1886): 197–200. “Recent Excavations at Shiloah,” Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly Statement 22 (1890): 257–90. “The ‘Second’ Shiloah Aqueduct,” Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly 23 (1891): 13–19.
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The area was more fully excavated in 1984 by Marie-Joseph Pierre and JourdainMarie Roussée.31 I first visited the site in 1968 with Pierre Benoit who was intimately knowledgeable about Jerusalem and its archaeology. He pointed out how archaeology and biblical research sometimes intersect. It is certain that two pools, both trapezoids, are represented by the name “the Pool of Bethzatha.” The pools are separated by a bedrock causeway that boasted columns. The smaller northern pool is about 53 by 40 meters.32 It seems to be a reservoir. The larger southern pool is about 47 by 52 meters. Both pools are constructed from bedrock, mortar, and stone. Note S. Gibson’s scientific description and date: The two basins would have been surrounded by porticoes on the four sides, with an additional portico extending across the barrier wall separating the two basins. The plastered barrier wall separating the two parts of the pool was partly hewn into the rock and partly built of alternating courses of headers and stretcher ashlars with smoothed exteriors, typical of Second Temple building ventures in Jerusalem. It was clearly a well planned building initiative and one may suggest this took place before the construction of the new quarter on the Bezetha Hill and most likely at the time of Herod the Great, perhaps circa 25 BC, when the major building activities relating to the rebuilding of the Temple Mount were first initiated.33
One reaches the bottom of the southern pool by a steep series of stone steps.34 The massive steps and construction indicate that the large pool was built during the time of Herod the Great. The series of steps followed by a landing indicate that the southern pool is a miqveh, a Jewish ritual bath to remove moral or ritual impurity.35 The upper northern pool served as an otsar (reservoir providing “living water”). The ones who wanted to be ritually pure would go to the landing which had water and fully immerse themselves. Afterward the Jew could ascend to the Temple to worship. In light of modern excavations we may better approximate the history of the two Bethzatha pools north of the Temple Mount. Apparently before the first century BCE caves that were natural in this area (whose contours are in some places still visible) were converted into baths. These may well have been pagan shrines dedicated to Asclepius and Fortuna (m. Zabim 11:5). The votive offerings, serpents, and the ophidian Bethzatha Vase prove to many experts that Asclepius was celebrated here because of his alleged powers to heal. The Asclepian was represented by serpents that symbolized new life and healing.36 Before the time of Herod the Great, these pagan shrines were outside Jerusalem’s walls and the center of holiness in the Sanctuary (and thus they would not be a concern to the legalists who compiled such works as the Temple Scroll).37 During the two centuries before 70 CE, Jerusalem tripled in size. The Hasmoneans continued Hezekiah’s expansion of the city to the West (the Upper City) and under Herod “the new city” expanded to the north of the Temple; that is, the location of Bethzatha.38 Archaeological research has made it obvious, however, that the major expansion of Jerusalem during Jesus’ time was due to the recognition of the cosmic centrality of the Temple; and that demanded massive miqva’ot for ritual purity. At least the southern pool at Bethzatha became a miqveh; and it extends far to the south and underneath, undetected by most observers, the buildings of St. Anne’s Church.
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In its early stages, the healing pools would have been attractive to the Greeks and later the Romans residing nearby. From about 200 BCE, Greek (Seleucid) soldiers lived in the “Baris,” which is virtually the site of Herod’s “Antonia” Fortress.39 This fortress was taken by the Hasmonean Simon; two centuries later, after a riot in the Temple, Paul was imprisoned there (according to Acts 21-22). In 41 CE, eleven years after Jesus’ crucifixion outside Jerusalem’s walls, Agrippa repaired the northeast section of Jerusalem and either built a new wall or repaired and raised an earlier one, incorporating the area within Jerusalem’s walls. Thus, during Jesus’ time the pools were outside the walls of the Holy City and for some Jews no laws (halakot) would have been broken by carrying a mat that had been a bed. The authors and compilers of the Temple Scroll emphasize that one must be pure within the Holy City which is defined as an extension of the holiness in the “Sanctuary.” The Copper Scroll has also added to the science of Bethzatha. The work was not produced at Qumran. It is later and supplies valuable data on topography. The one passage that may mention the site has frustratingly imprecise chiseling. I subscribe to Puech’s reading “in the building of the two reservoirs” (האשר)ו(חין באשוח/ ;בבית א3Q15 11.12).40 The text of 3Q15 should be interpreted as a Semitic a dual, “two reservoirs” (האשר)ו(חין/ ;)אBethzatha has two pools; each is a mikva’ot. With Puech, I wish to be cautious; he comments: “The location of this site at Bethesda is not completely certain, although the mention of byt beforehand might be appreciably in its favour.”41 If the one who inscribed the Copper Scroll refers to Bethzatha (Bethesda), he would have known it during the time of Jesus, and a reference to a building with two reservoirs makes eminent sense. Moreover, the author comments that one of the pools is the “smallest ()ימומית.” That fits what we know now from archaeology. Again, Puech is helpful: “The dual/plural and the mention of a smaller or larger adjoining basin recalls the installation at Bethesda where the smaller of the two reservoirs is the one to the north but where there are also other smaller basins which would be easier to enter.”42 Some ancient manuscripts contain an addition to John 5: “Waiting for the moving of the water; for an angel of the Lord went down at certain seasons into the pool, and troubled the water.” No text critic would find it difficult to judge these words to be additional. They are not attested in the major witnesses. Why would a scribe (or scribes) add them? Clearly, the answer is to supply details and explain the supernatural. Reflecting on the topography, I can imagine that the water most likely appeared disturbed in the lower pool when water overflowed from the upper pool and surprisingly “troubled” the water in the lower pool; in antiquity, however, the better explanation would be that the water was disturbed by an angel sent from above. One can now see a large rectangular opening in the northern wall of the southern pool; it would allow water to explode unexpectedly from the upper, northern pool. Those waiting to be healed would not be able to see the opening, probably controlled by priests, because it would be under the level of the water in the southern pool.43 Many exegetes imagine that the Evangelist John is mirroring a conflict between Jesus and Asclepius. In The Good and Evil Serpent, I present reasons why this is an apt insight; in the Preface I indicate that my research “will clarify how the Asclepius story threatened the ‘Jesus Gospel.’”44 Asclepius was a human physician who became a god. He lived among humans, was noted for healing miracles, raised the dead, died, and
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lived (or was raised) again. Jesus’ story is strikingly similar. Most likely the Evangelist John knew about the Asclepius story and wanted to stress that Jesus is the one who heals, the one who is from above, the one who is Savior. The latter term is on target; both Jesus and Asclepius were hailed as the “Savior,” Soter.45 More details lead to the supposition that some polemic is hidden within John’s highly edited account. At Bethzatha a Roman period shrine to Asclepius has been exposed; the building may be Hadrianic or later, but there is no reason to suppose Asclepius was revered here only after Jerusalem became Aelia Capitolina sometime after 136 CE. Both Asclepius and Jesus were considered divine, and ὑγιὴς γενέσθαι. “Do you want to be healed?” (John 5:6) is atypical of the Gospels, but it appears in accounts of Asclepius. Finally, the votive offerings, the Bethzatha Cup with its Asclepiad serpents,46 and the metal serpents found within Bethzatha prove that Asclepius was revered at Bethzatha and probably during Jesus’ time.47 I do not think one should date all of them to the period after 70 CE; the archaeological evidence of Greek influence is pervasive in ancient Palestine long before 70 CE as we know from the Samaritan papyri and the excavations of Upper Jerusalem. In summary, the precise site of Bethzatha is finally clear. It is indicated by Josephus, the Copper Scroll, and most importantly, by excavations just west of the present Sheep Gate. The five porticoes are the five areas covered by pillars: the north, the east, the south, the west, and the area between the two pools. The site was certainly a place for healing long before Jesus, as Hasmonean and probably Hellenistic evidence is present. Are some scholars correct to argue that theology needs neither historical research nor archaeology? Why should primary data be ignored or feared? When biblical theology is informed by historical and archaeological research, the full force of the message to us takes on the power once felt when hearing the Evangelist’s words. Jesus is from above. He is the perfect healer. And he is the only Savior. This message would have been most appealing for Jews within Jerusalem before 70 CE, but it also spoke to the needs of Greeks and Romans.
Pool of Siloam: “The lower pool of Jerusalem” Many scholars and theologians know about a Pool of Siloam. It has been shown to pilgrims for centuries, often as they exit Hezekiah’s Tunnel. This pool south of the present walls of Jerusalem, where the Hinnom Valley meets the Kedron Valley, may have originated in the time of Isaiah: “You have seen the breaches in the City of David that they are many; and you have collected the waters from the Lower Pool ( ;הברכה התחתונהIsa 22:9; cf. 22:11; my translation).” This pool, called Hezekiah’s Pool or the Siloam Pool, was also known to Nehemiah and was discussed previously and will prove important to us below. It is imperative to distinguish between the preexilic pool and the Herodian pool; the latter was unknown until recently and is only partly uncovered. The oblique references to “Siloam” in the Lives of the Prophets are ostensibly to the time of Isaiah but it is evident that the author is writing from a later date (LivPro 1:1-13). The author of this pseudepigraphon clarifies, like the Fourth Evangelist, that “Siloam” means “sent,” but that does not indicate any relationship between the two documents.
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The steps leading up to the Temple mentioned by Nehemiah, however, may well be beneath portions of the Herodian monumental stairway that has just been unearthed. Recall Neh 3:15, “Shallum son of Col-hozeh, the leader of the Mizpah district, repaired the Fountain Gate. He rebuilt it, roofed it, set up its doors, and installed its bolts and bars. Then he repaired the wall of the Pool of Siloam ( )ברכת השלחby the king’s garden, and he rebuilt the wall as far as the stairs that descend from the City of David (my translation).” As everyone familiar with Hebrew knows, and as was pointed out by the Evangelist John, “the Pool of Siloam” receives its name from the verb שלחwhich means “he sent”; in modern Hebrew the place is called בריכת השילוח, “the Pool of Shiloah.” For the biblical theologian, the water, “living water,” that is pure and alone can purify, was sent there by God from heaven (and not from the Gihon Spring). John knows the etymology and makes a play on it. As the water is sent, so Jesus is sent into the world. Hence, the man is healed. Again it is propitious to recall John 8:59–9:12: At this, they picked up stones to stone him, but Jesus hid himself, slipping away from the Temple grounds. As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life. As long as it is day, we must do the work of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” Having said this, he spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man’s eyes. “Go,” he told him, “wash in the Pool of Siloam” (this word means Sent). So the man went and washed, and came home seeing. His neighbors and those who had formerly seen him begging asked, “Isn’t this the same man who used to sit and beg?” Some claimed that he was. Others said, “No, he only looks like him.” But he himself insisted, “I am the man.” “How then were your eyes opened?” they demanded. He replied, “The man they call Jesus made some mud and put it on my eyes. He told me to go to Siloam and wash. So I went and washed, and then I could see.” “Where is this man?” they asked him. “I don’t know,” he said. (NIV; italics mine)
No one who knows Johannine theology would miss the paronomasia. Jesus is the Light that brings light into darkness. The Pool of Siloam means “Sent” as Jesus is sent. Confrontation with Jesus opens the eyes of the blind. While the man, at this stage in the story, does not know Jesus’ origins, John writes so all may know the truth. Surely this account is historical; it is a Christological interpretation of the story. Has the Fourth Evangelist created a scene for Christological purposes, or has he based his Christological thoughts on an actual site? The Old Tendency was to focus only on Christology.48 Too many exegetes assume that the words “the Pool of Siloam” are entirely a Johannine creation. After all, the Evangelist emphasizes that this word means “sent.” Preachers and some exegetes claim that the account was John’s creation in order to make a beautiful play on “sent.” In John, God is the One who sends and Jesus is sent into the world.
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Such exegetes could point out that the Pool of Siloam, shown for centuries to pilgrims, dates from the fifth century CE and cannot be taken back to Jesus’ time. They assumed that no pool existed in the area and the setting was a creation for rhetorical effect to give a basis for John’s rhetoric. Theologians and evangelists have argued that there is a parable in this chapter. A man has been born blind, but Jesus, as the Light of the world, gives sight to all the blind, especially those who see but cannot perceive. Polemics have been fashioned to show that the Light of the Torah is dimming and the Pharisees are men who can no longer see. Books are then filled with the claim that John is anti-Jewish or even antiSemitic. The old covenant has been replaced by a New Covenant. It is easy to see supersessionism shaping the interpretation of texts.
The new: Archaeology and John As previously noted, a well-known pool, also called the Pool of Siloam, cannot be the pool mentioned in John. It is associated with Eudocia, the empress of Byzantium, who had a church built there about 450. The church was destroyed during the Persian invasion of 614. The water flowing into Eudocia’s pool flows from the only spring within Jerusalem, the Gihon Spring. The Spring is connected to the Pool by a tunnel built by King Hezekiah (2 Kgs 20:20). Only recently, another pool has been located to the southeast of the well-known Pool of Siloam. In 1898, Bliss and Dickie exposed fives stone steps at this site, but they did not recognize that they had uncovered part of the Herodian Pool of Siloam.49 The founder of the École Biblique, Father Vincent, in the early 1900s and other early archaeologists opined that the area labeled as “Birket el-Hamra” was the Arabic name for an area in which an ancient pool could be located. In 2004 and 2005, Ronnie Reich and Eli Shukron were called to explore large stones that had been unearthed by bulldozers driven by workmen who were repairing a sewer pipe that had burst. In 2005, I was in Jerusalem and spent time with them during the early phase of the excavations.50 What has been unearthed and exposed for us to study and ponder? The following are now revealed: First, one can see three groups of four or five steps each and then a horizontal area or plaza; the pattern is repeated so that one who wished to immerse could do so fully when water receded during the dry season. This construction characterizes a miqveh during the time of Herod the Great. Second, early Roman and Herodian pottery was discovered. Third, four coins of Alexander Jannaeus (103–76 BCE) were recovered, but these are not definitive for dating since they are the most common coins found in the Holy Land (I have acquired more than fifty of them and found one). Fourth, in a corner of the pool archaeologists discovered about a dozen coins, all dating from the First Jewish Revolt. These coins prove that the pool was covered shortly after 70 CE during the destruction of the area by the Roman troops directed by Titus, the future emperor.51 Fifth, a massive structure, approximately 225 feet long, has been discovered. The large pool is constructed like smaller miqva’ot (Jewish ritual baths) that surround the Temple area. The flowing waters and the “living waters” from the Gihon Spring served as an otsar for the miqveh. Here at Siloam, at
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Bethzatha, at Qumran, and elsewhere, flights of four or five steps are separated by landings so that Jews may immerse themselves. Reich and Shukron succinctly explain the phenomenology of immersion implied by the series of steps and platforms evident in the architecture: This practical architectural feature allows Jews to use the water in the pool up to the level of the exposed platform; that is, when the water was high in the pool the Jews would proceed to the first platform, when it was very low, they would descend to a lower platform. The Jews most likely felt comfortable and safe as they descended or ascended.52
There should be no doubt that the Herodian Pool of Siloam served as a miqveh for ritual cleansing. Its massive size (over 50 meters) provided space for the thousands of pilgrims, from all over Palestine and from as far away as Spain and Parthia, who had to be purified in a miqveh before entering the Holy Temple. A monumental stairway, perhaps over 20 feet wide, constructed with Herodian stones and framed by Herodian ashlars, leads from this miqveh up to the Temple. The largest area of the pool is to the south under a garden owned by the Greek Orthodox Church. Hopefully the Greeks will allow archaeologists to expose the full miqveh which is the Herodian Pool of Siloam. Archaeologists and biblical experts now affirm that this Pool of Siloam is the one indicated by the author of John. Most likely, the reference was in the first edition of John.53 One can now imagine Jesus’ direction as he left the Temple. He was proceeding south, perhaps out of the Huldah Gates which are still outlined in the Herodian southern wall. He meets a man who is blind. He heals him and tells him to descend into the Pool of Siloam and be purified. Later, so purified, the man may for the first time in his life enter the Temple (the blind were excluded since they might touch something that would bring upon them a curse; see 4QMMT, Temple Scroll). No reason should prohibit us from agreeing that the steps on which we can walk today are those that Jesus and other Jews had walked on before 70 CE. The precise setting may be discerned from the Jewish liturgical calendar. During the period of the Second Temple and the Feast of Tabernacles, pilgrims brought offerings up to the Temple. These consisted, primarily, of fresh dates, figs, grapes, olives, and pomegranates. The celebrants most likely began at the recently excavated Pool of Siloam and ascended up the monumental staircase on which one may now walk. The procession was accompanied probably by dancing and musical instruments. The ceremonial procession is called Simhat Beit HaShoevah, “The Rejoicing of the WaterDrawing” (m. Yoma 26b). While the author may not have this precise time in mind, he may well have expected his readers to make some connections. He uses a metaphor from the waters of Siloam and the Feast of Tabernacles explicitly in John 7:2. He has Jesus declare in Jerusalem that he is “the living water.” On the last day of the Feast of Tabernacles, in the Temple, Jesus shouted: “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink. As the Scripture says, ‘Out of his54 interior shall flow rivers of living water’” (John 7:37-38). The paronomasia is evident when one recalls Jesus’ words to the
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Samaritan woman: “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water (ὕδωρ ζῶν)” (John 4:10 [NRSV]).55 Since the 1960s, archaeologists and historians have discovered many early miqva’ot to the west and south of the Temple Mount,56 each needs “living water” ()מים חיים. The author, who assumed his first readers knew all that we are learning, was convinced that Jesus is the “gift of God” and he alone provides to all who believe “living water” that “will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life” (4:14). Yet, Christology is grounded in secular history. At least the earliest author of John well knew the places in which Jesus healed the sick. As Urban C. von Wahlde states: “the accuracy of the Johannine information is clearly established.”57 These reflections help illustrate how archaeology can help us improve exegesis and theology. If Christian theology is grounded in a story that is historical, and hence can be falsified, we should examine all facts with openness and appreciation for the data left us by many who died when Jesus’ world disappeared in flames. Archaeological research helps us enter the world imagined in the story edited by John. We also enter into the narrative and begin to perceive the mixing of fact and interpretation. John is clearly editing traditions and bringing out his own Christological insights, but his traditions are often early and grounded in a world and stones that are only now revealed to us after 2,000 years. We can progress up the stairs toward the Huldah Gates of the Temple and feel more powerfully, and phenomenologically, the progression of one who sees and progresses from “I do not know” (John 9:12), through “He is a prophet” (9:17) to a full confession that Jesus is the Son of Man who has come into the world for judgment (9:35-39). The latter confession is most likely an echo of the Son of Man traditions in 1 En 37-71; only in this document is the Son of Man introduced as the eschatological and heavenly judge; and the author, like Jesus, refers to the Son of Man in the third person.58
Summary Both the southern Pool of Bethzatha and the Pool of Siloam are miqva’ot. Notice the judgment of the leading expert on miqva’ot, Ronnie Reich: I believe that at the Siloam Pool, as well as the Pool of Bethesda to the north (which had steps on one side, just like ordinary miqva’ot, but was filled with surface runoff ), people also ritually immersed.59
Each of these miqva’ot receives “living water” from a separate otsar to the north. From the Pool of Bethzatha to the Pool of Siloam, among others, many miqva’ot for ritual cleansing have been discovered; some are in exposed excavation areas and many are underground where workers are exposing Herodian layers. To the west and to the south of the Temple’s retaining wall are massive cisterns for pilgrims who prepared to enter the Temple. The largest miqva’ot in ancient Palestine are probably the Pool of Siloam and Pool of Bethzatha. Such insights raise many questions, in particular this one: What was Jesus’ attitude to miqva’ot?
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The Sea of Galilee contained “living water” and so it, as well as the Jordan River, provided “living water” for ritual bathing. This fact helps explain the many baptizing groups and the work of John the Baptizer. In Jerusalem Jesus seems to advise those whom he healed to immerse in a miqveh. Why? In the search for answers to such questions we learn how to improve exegesis. Now we are more sensitive to the fact that the man healed by Jesus had entered into a miqveh. Why? Jesus “found him in the Temple” (John 5:14). To enter the Temple the man who had been ill for thirty-eight years must have previously entered a miqveh; and Jesus would also have to have immersed himself in a miqveh. The Fourth Evangelist wants the reader to comprehend that Jesus, the Light of the world whom God sent into the world, now sends the previously blind man, after a lifetime of exclusion, into the Temple, “my Father’s house.”
Conclusion: Symbolism based on history Many who began to read this chapter and were influenced by some leading commentaries on John probably would have assumed my claim that the Gospel of John must be used in Jesus Research is novel and idiosyncratic.60 It is neither. It rides upon something like a tsunami that has arisen within academia. Positioned on the highest point of the new wave is the SBL “John, Jesus, and History Project” headed by Paul N. Anderson and Tom Thatcher and a steering committee including Alan Culpepper, D. Moody Smith, Mary Coloe, Jamie Clark-Soles, and Felix Just. Among those who can perceive history behind Christology in John are such leading scholars as E. Schwartz, J. Wellhausen, H. H. Wendt, Francis J. Moloney, P. Gardner-Smith, C. H. Dodd, Marianne Meye Thompson, Ray Brown, Paula Fredriksen, Urban C. von Wahlde, Mary Coloe, John A.T. Robinson, Jaime Clark-Soles, Helen K. Bond, John Painter, Gail R. O’Day, Craig S. Keener, Craig Evans, and Colleen M. Conway.61 In the preceding discussion, we have seen the dangers of the purely theological approach to texts. It may have served “the Church” well in the past, but now some of our earliest evidence comes from unexpected archaeological discoveries. Focusing only on Christology results in a failure to grasp the full meaning of the authors’ and editors’ kerygmata and Christological affirmations. It fails to realize the purpose of the Evangelists and especially the claim in the second or third edition of John that “the Word Flesh became.” Exegetical studies not informed by scientific explorations and archaeological research may also tend inadvertently to support Docetism—the greatest Christian heresy. With the above reflections and insights, we have glimpsed the ways archaeology may help us avoid erroneous or insufficiently informed exegesis. It also helps us obtain fresh insights. The old tendency continues in many seminaries and universities, often masquerading as Christological exegesis or the pure rhetorical approach to the New Testament. It is understandable why theologians and exegetes tend to be afraid of archaeology: they have never immersed themselves in the land of Israel. As Mordechai Aviam states: “To truly know a piece of land, one has to live, feel, and walk almost every square meter.”62 They have never participated in topographical explorations and scientific
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excavations. They may have observed the hostile debates that frequently erupt within archaeological symposia and been frightened to enter such events. I have heard historians admit that they shun theologians because they do not think and simply posit what they claim to be in a text. I have heard archaeologists state that historians do not ponder archaeological work and float sentences like clouds in the sky. I have heard philologists state that theologians, historians, and archaeologists cannot be trusted since the precise ancient meaning of a word is unperceived. None of us should be afraid of theologians, historians, archaeologists, or philologists. Theology devoid of history is in danger of becoming meaningless myth. History without the insights of archaeology can be subjective speculation. Philology without attention to the full meaning can present meaningless etymologies. In the previous pages we have caught a glimpse of how theology and Christology may benefit from history and archaeology. A new paradigm seems to be appearing. Archaeologists expose facts, data, and challenging images that are frequently much closer to Jesus than any extant text. In summation, those who imagine John cannot contain reliable history because of its hermeneutic and sophistication should study how the Qumranites conveyed their history through the hermeneutic of fulfillment in the Pesharim.63 I note a growing perception of a dated and false dichotomy. Leading scholars know how to avoid the either-ors; both archaeology and theology are important. Johannine scholars are now recognizing that some of the earliest traditions in the Gospels are in John. We have explained that John knows more about some aspects of Jerusalem’s architecture than any ancient author who describes Jerusalem. Just because PseudoHegesippus and Josephus do not mention the Pools of Bethzatha and the Pool of Siloam does not mean they were not there. The absence of notation is not the absence of reality. Archaeology and lucky accidents reveal to us both pools as Herodian miqva’ot. My historical reconstruction is similar, in some ways, to some of Martin Hengel’s “hypothetical” comments. In particular, Hengel rightly suggested that the one who stands behind John was born in Jerusalem around 15 CE, was a member of the priestly aristocracy, and was an eyewitness “in personal contact with Jesus,” witnessing Jesus’ fate “in Jerusalem in close quarters.”64 The study of Jewish jurisprudence indicates the superiority of John’s account of Jesus before “the high priest.” Only Annas can be present; the ruling high priest, Caiaphas, must be in the Temple, in the Chamber of Hewn Stones, purifying himself for the upcoming Passover. Thus at the end of the confrontation in the high priest’s house, Annas, the former high priest and father-in-law of Caiaphas (18:13), must send Jesus to the “high priest (18:24).” I am convinced that the Evangelist John was probably not the eyewitness of Jesus’ ministry. Yet, some oral and written sources preserved in John do bear the hallmarks of an eyewitness as the final form of John counters Luke, Mark, and Matthew. I remain convinced that the first edition of John may have been written by an eyewitness of Jesus’ last days and perhaps much of his ministry. The fresh and challenging meaning of the earliest kerygmata is grounded in history. The Fourth Evangelist really knows Jerusalem. He comprehends the importance of miqva’ot and stone vessels (John 2).65 Perhaps he should be trusted; perhaps he is the
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only Evangelist whose work derives from an eyewitness or the edited work of an eyewitness. We will be divided on such possibilities, but we should not miss the obvious: Johannine symbolism is not created; it is intermittently grounded in history. In conclusion, it is clear that archaeological discoveries help us perceive more clearly the shadows of the historical Jesus within the narrative of John. This Gospel is imperative for an improvement of Jesus Research, but I do not wish to suggest that we should resurrect Friedrich Schleimacher’s 1832 conclusion that John is our best source for reconstructing the life and teachings of Jesus. The first author of John was astoundingly familiar with pre-70 CE Jerusalem. That insight is certain now both with the discovery of Herodian construction and architecture not seen since 70 CE, and the massive miqva’ot at the Pools of Bethzatha and Siloam. The evidence increases with the archaeological evidence of the massive pavement (lithostrōton) in Herod’s Western palace, the location of “the house of the high priest,” and other incidental details, so it is clear the author of the first edition of John knew Jerusalem by heart before it was destroyed by the Roman army in 70 CE. The historicity of what occurred there is conveyed not only by memory but also by John’s way of conveying an electrifying story.66 When we stand on the carved stones placed at Bethzatha and Siloam, or on the massive ashlars of Herod’s palace, all placed there by Herod’s builders long before Jesus’ birth, we are situated where Jesus and those in the stories met. Thus, we have in the Gospel of John not only history and tradition, but interpreted tradition that, with the aid of the Paraclete (John 16:12-13), stimulates thought about history and eternity. I am persuaded from the papers and decades of conversations with many participants in the Princeton-Prague Symposia that most will concur with my conclusion. Archaeology can help us see Jesus’ shadows in the Gospel of John.
Selected Bibliography67 General Amit, David. Ritual Pools from the Second Temple Period in the Hebron Hills. M.A. thesis, Hebrew University, 1991 [in Hebrew]. Bahat, Dan. The Jerusalem Western Wall Tunnel. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 2013; see pp. 102–5 for images and a discussion of “the Southern Miqveh. ” Charlesworth, James H. “Biblical Archaeology: Good Grounds for Faith.” U.S. Catholic 59 (July 1994): 14–19. Charlesworth, James H. “Had die Archä ologie Bedeutung fü r die Jesus-Forschung?” Evangelische Theologie 68 (2008): 246–65. Charlesworth, James H. “The Historical Jesus in the Fourth Gospel: A Paradigm Shift?” Journal for the Historical Jesus 8 (2010): 3–46. Charlesworth, James H., ed. Jesus and Archaeology. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006. Charlesworth, James H., ed. Jesus and Temple: Textual and Archaeological Explorations. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2014. Charlesworth, James H. “Jesus Research and Archaeology.” Pages 439–66 in The World of the New Testament. Edited by Joel B. Green and Lee Martin McDonald. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2013.
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Charlesworth, James H., “Jesus Research and Near Eastern Archaeology: Reflections on Recent Developments.” Pages 37–70 in Neotestamentica et Philonica: Studies in Honor of Peder Borgen. Edited by D. E. Aune, T. Seland, and J. H. Ulrichsen. Supplements to Novum Testamentum 106. Leiden: Brill, 2003. Charlesworth, James H. The Millennium Guide for Pilgrims to the Holy Land. North Richland Hills, TX: BIBAL Press, 2000. Charlesworth, James H. “Revealing the Genius of Biblical Authors: Symbology, Archaeology, and Theology.” Communio Viatorum 46 (2004): 124–40. Charlesworth, James H. with Michael Medina. Walking Through the Land of the Bible: Historical 3D Adventure. Jerusalem: Magnes, 2014. Charlesworth, James H. with Walter P. Weaver, eds. What Has Archaeology to Do with Faith? Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1992. Crossan, John Dominic. “The Relationship Between Galilean Archaeology and Historical Jesus Research.” Pages 151–61 in The Archaeology of Difference: Gender, Ethnicity, Class and the ‘Other’ in Antiquity: Studies in Honor of Eric M. Meyers. Edited by Douglas R. Edwards and C. Thomas McCollough. Boston: ASOR, 2007. Crossan, John Dominic, and Jonathan L. Reed. Excavating Jesus. New York: HarperCollins, 2001. Reed, Jonathan L. Archaeology and the Galilean Jesus. Harrisburg: TPI, 2000. Regev, Eyal. “Ritual Baths of Jewish Groups and Sects in the Second Temple Period.” Cathedra 79 (1996): 3–20 [in Hebrew]. Reich, Ronny. Mikva’ot (Jewish Ritual Baths) in the Second Temple Period and the Period of the Mishnah and Talmud. PhD diss., Hebrew University, 1991 [in Hebrew]. Reich, Ronny. “Ritual Baths.” Pages 430–31 in The Oxford Encyclopedia of Archaeology in the Near East. Vol. 4. Edited by Eric M. Meyers. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997. Reich, Ronny. “Miqwa’ot at Khirbet Qumran and the Jerusalem Connection.” Pages 728–33 in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Fifty Years After Their Discovery. Edited by Lawrence H. Schiffman and Emanuel Tov. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society and the Shrine of the Book, Israel Museum, 2000. Reich, Ronny. “They are Ritual Baths.” Biblical Archaeology Review 28 (2002): 50–55. Taylor, Joan E. Christians and Holy Places: The Myth of Jewish-Christian Origins. Oxford: Clarendon, 1993. Von Wahlde, Urban C. “Archaeology and John’s Gospel.” Pages 587–618 in Jesus and Archaeology. Edited by James H. Charlesworth. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006. Wilkinson, John. Jerusalem as Jesus Knew It: Archaeology as Evidence. London: Thames and Hudson, 1978. Yadin, Yigael, ed. Jerusalem Revealed. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1975.
Pool of Bethzatha Charlesworth, James H., “Anguine Iconography in the Studium Biblicum Franciscanum Museum and Biblical Exegesis.” Liber Annuus 49 (1999): 431–42; Plates 5 and 6. Charlesworth, James H. “An Asclepian Cult in Jerusalem?” Pages 108–06 in idem, The Good and Evil Serpent. The Anchor Yale Bible Reference Library. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2010. Duprez, Antoine. Jé sus et les dieux gué risseurs. Paris: J. Gabalda, 1970. Gibson, Shimon. “The Pool of Bethesda in Jerusalem and Jewish Purification Practices of the Second Temple Period.” Proche-Orient Chré tien 55 (2005): 270–93.
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Jeremias, Joachim. The Rediscovery of Bethesda. Louisville: Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, 1966 [German original published in 1949]. Murphy-O’Connor, Jerome. The Holy Land. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008; page 29. Strange, James F. “Beth-Zatha,” ABD 1.700-701. von Wahlde, Urban C. “The Pool of Bethesda – Reservoir or Miqveh?” BAR, forthcoming. Wilson, Charles W. “Bethesda,” A Dictionary of the Bible, ed. William Smith and John Mee Fuller (1893 [2nd ed.]) 1.409-11.
Pool of Siloam Reich, Ronny. “The Pool of Siloam.” The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy Land 5.1807. Reich, Ronny, and Eli Shukron. Israel Exploration Journal 57 (2007): 153–19. Reich, Ronny, and Eli Shukron. “The Shiloah ̣ Pool from the Days of the Second Temple in Jerusalem.” Qadmoniot 38 (2005): 91–96, 8 images [in Hebrew]. Reich, Ronny, and Eli Shukron. “The Siloam Pool in the Wake of Recent Discoveries.” New Studies on Jerusalem 10 (2004): 137–39. Shanks, Hershel. “The Siloam Pool: Where Jesus Cured the Blind Man.” BAR 31 (2005): 16–23.
Part Four
Johannine Tendenzen, Theology, and History
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History in John’s Portrayal of Jesus Jan Roskovec
Growing consensus: “That” and “What” It took some time before the Fourth Gospel made it into (historical) Jesus Research as a relevant source. The ancient characterization by Clement of Alexandria that it is a “spiritual Gospel”—presenting some deeper or higher meaning of the “deeds” recorded by the Synoptics—has retained vital influence through the ages.1 A pivotal turn was brought about by the thorough study of C. H. Dodd who made a convincing case for essential literary independence of the Gospel of John from the Synoptics.2 As a consequence, the basic possibility that the Gospel of John contains historically valuable information was opened. Indeed, after closer scrutiny performed on the assumption of its independence, it has yielded a substantial amount of data that would correct, or even change any historical reconstruction of Jesus’ ministry based solely on the Synoptic material. Today, we can certainly speak of a “changing tide” or a “paradigm shift,”3 and perhaps even of having already established the utility of the Gospel of John for any serious attempt at historical reconstruction of Jesus of Nazareth.4 There are several pieces of information coming from John that may contribute both additional material, complementing the picture based on the Synoptics, and contradictory information, possibly correcting that picture. With no ambition of exhaustiveness, and in a rather abbreviated form, a list of these may look as follows:
1. Overall chronology of Jesus’ ministry as lasting longer than one year, as in Mark, and including Jesus’ activity in Judea and his repeated visits and activities in Jerusalem. It is supported in a cumulative way by a series of considerations. (a) On a general note, Jesus’ crucifixion is better explained if the disturbance he had been known to have caused was confirmed by a longer period of time and Jesus’ presence in Judea and Jerusalem. (b) It is more likely that the straightforward scheme of one journey from Galilee to Jerusalem, which makes the backbone of Mark’s story and is preserved by the other two Synoptics, is a simplification of a more complex reality than vice versa. (c) Archaeological evidence shows there were close ties between Lower Galilee and Judea.5 (d) The surprising “foreknowledge” of the Jerusalem locale shown by Jesus according to
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Mark (Mark 14:12-16) would have had a more realistic and historical basis if Jesus and his disciples had been there before.6 Special chronology of the passion week. While all four Gospels agree that Jesus was crucified on Friday in close proximity to the feast of Passover (Pascha), they differ in the precise dating: the Synoptic chronology presents the Friday as the feast day, that is, 15th Nisan, whereas John has Jesus die on the “day of preparation,” that is, 14th Nisan (John 19:14). It is difficult, perhaps impossible, to reconcile this difference.7 The Johannine version would undermine the Synoptic understanding that the Last Supper was a seder meal, but it is to be preferred: First, it is very difficult to imagine that an execution would take place on a major religious festival. Second, the haste felt even from the Synoptic accounts (cf. Mark 14:2) is understandable only before the feast day. Third, Pilate’s custom of releasing a prisoner (Mark 15:6 par.) makes much better sense if it was meant to let the released one celebrate the feast, that is, take part at the seder meal. Fourth, there is nothing in the Synoptic accounts of the very Last Supper suggesting that it was a seder. This identification entirely depends on the context of the passage. John’s description of the procession of the narrative of Jesus seems to make much better sense historically than the Synoptic one. John does not present a trial before the sanhedrin, but just a preliminary consultation that took the decision about Jesus in absentia (John 11:47-53). After his arrest, he is only interrogated by the high priest (emeritus), obviously in preparation for the trial before Pilate. Although the depiction of the trial itself (John 18:28–19:16) is clearly a creation of the Evangelist, it does contain elements that may contain a simple historical recollection: The scrupulosity of the “Jews” about ritual purity (John 18:28) and their contention that they do not have the right of capital punishment (John 18:31).8 Jesus’ relationship to John the Baptist and his disciples. In the Fourth Gospel, the significance of John the Baptist for Jesus’ ministry is much stronger and their public activities are depicted as parallel (John 3:22-24; 4:1-2). This picture of only gradual separation of Jesus’ movement from that of the Baptist looks quite logical and the Synoptic depiction is easy to imagine as a result of simplification and perhaps suppression of the role of the Baptist. The topography of pre-70 CE Galilee and especially Jerusalem seems to have been captured in John in a number of details that do not appear in the Synoptics. The stone vessels in Cana (John 2:6),9 the pools of Bethzatha (John 5:2), and Siloam (John 9:7),10 probably used as ritual baths,11 the place of Jesus’ interrogation after his arrest (John 18:13, 15, 24),12 the stone pavement on a “high place” in front of Herod’s palace on the western part of Jerusalem that may have been used as Praetorium (John 18:28; 19:13), that is, the site where according to the Gospel of John Jesus’ trial took place and the sentence over him was pronounced.13 The remark that the place of Jesus’ execution was outside the walls of the city (John 19:17) seems to be quite incidental, but has been confirmed by archaeological findings.14 Some named persons among the adherents of Jesus are only known through the Gospel of John, notably Nathanael of Galilean Cana (John 21:2) and Nicodemus of
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Jerusalem. Neither of these names is a priori suspect of not being authentic. Even the Greek name Nicodemus should not cast doubts upon the authenticity, as there is evidence that a member of Jerusalem Jewish aristocracy could bear such name.15 7. General characteristics of Jesus stressing his Jewishness, not weakened by the presence of the Greek element. Jesus is described by the Gospel of John as a devout Jew, regularly traveling to Jerusalem to celebrate the pilgrim feasts there—this is the common (and only) reason for all Jesus’ visits to Jerusalem. The presence of the stone vessels for ritual purification in the place of the wedding in Cana where Jesus is present as an invited guest (or maybe a relative [John 2:2-6]) suggests that Jesus was moving in a milieu of the careful practice of Jewish religion. In the conversation with the Samaritan woman, Jesus stresses explicitly that “salvation is from the Jews,” only to announce himself as Messiah a little later (John 4:22-26). Although he is publicly known by the cognomen “of Nazareth” and is regarded as a Galilean accordingly (John 1:45-46; 7:41-52), the Evangelist, by clear hints, reminds the reader of the tradition of Jesus’ Bethlehem origin. He uses the saying about “a prophet having no honor in his own country” (John 4:44) in a context that makes it clear that Jesus’ patris cannot be Galilee (as in the Synoptic version, Mark 6:4) because it is immediately stated that “the Galileans received him” (John 4:45). The obvious conclusion is that the “homeland” where Jesus has “no honor” must be somewhere else, and the whole of the Johannine narrative makes it very clear that this land is Judea. A second hint, pointing in the same direction, is given by two passages in John 7. There, the question of Jesus’ messianic identity is exposed to two tests—both of which Jesus, in the opinion of the arguers, fails. According to the first group, the Messiah should come of unknown origin—but the place of Jesus’ origin is generally known, viz. in his name (John 7:27). The other group refers to the Scriptural tradition of a Davidic Messiah, born in Bethlehem—which rules out the possibility of a Messiah from Galilee (John 7:41-42). If the reader, however, is aware of the tradition of Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem—as is made probable by what we have seen in chapter 4—he/she would easily understand that in fact, Jesus meets both the tests: those who think to know his place of origin are mistaken, as well as those who think he cannot be of Davidic origin.16 This (Judean) Jewishness of Jesus is complemented—rather than disturbed—by the presence of the Greek elements in the closest surrounding of Jesus: The Greek names among his adherents, known already from the Synoptic tradition (Andreas, Filippos, Petros), are supplemented by the mention of Nicodemos—and also by the unique episode of Jesus’ conversation with Greek-speaking Jews from the diaspora (John 12:20–26). The cohabitation of Judaism with some elements of Hellenistic culture is something that fits quite well into our picture of pre-70 CE Palestine.17 This list could certainly be extended and filled out with details and arguments,18 but it shows clearly enough that the amount of Johannine material that deserves to be taken seriously in terms of history is quite substantial, and consequently that the historical layer in the Fourth Gospel cannot be neglected.
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The question: “How” and “Why?” The real issue is methodological: How do we employ these pieces of information? Their main qualification for being considered in historical reconstruction is their plausibility and the problem is that historically plausible does not eo ipso mean historically true. Even if something in the Gospels dovetails well with what can be verified historically (i.e., from other sources, written or excavated), it can still be just a good fabrication, for example, a secondary creation of a backdrop for a scene that was passed without it. To be sure: the notion of plausibility cannot be avoided in any historical research, and all the less so in research trying to penetrate such distant times with relatively limited attestation, as is the case with Jesus Research. Indeed, we are asking about a “plausible Jesus”19 and in many cases cannot do more. At the same time, however, the application of this criterion requires caution. It is easily observed that history is not—at least in most cases—presented “innocently” in the Gospel of John, that is, just in passing, without being instrumental for the purpose20 of the Evangelist. If it was the case that John really was not interested in history, as Clement thought, the pieces of history identified in the Fourth Gospel in spite of its alleged general concern to depict Jesus as a heavenly being could be more securely considered as authentic, preserved perhaps just as a primitive substratum of the tradition, out of some reverence for its antiquity. This would certainly be a happy situation for a historian, but it definitely is not the case. In the Gospel of John, most data that can claim historical plausibility can at the same time be, with more or less effort, recognized as vehicles of some symbolic (i.e., theological) meaning. This, at least in theory, throws a hint of suspicion at the historicity of these pieces of information: were they not created or at least adjusted for the purpose of the meaning they seem to carry?
1. If a single—although not straightforward—journey of Jesus from Galilee to Jerusalem in the Markan outline may be a theologically motivated scheme, the same may be true for John’s more complex scheme of Jesus “shuttling” between Galilee and Judea / Jerusalem. There is clearly a common pattern behind it: Jesus always goes to Jerusalem to celebrate one of the pilgrim feasts and his stay there always involves a conflict with “the Jews.” This is obviously the pattern of his last stay in Jerusalem as we know it also from the Synoptics. It is in Jerusalem (and in the Temple) where he starts his public activity by claiming that God is his Father (John 2:16; after signaling a distance to his mother in Cana [2:4] and leaving her and his brothers in Capernaum, that is, in Galilee) and pointing to his death and Resurrection (2:19-22). The reader will understand that this and all other of Jesus’ trips to Jerusalem actually anticipate or foreshadow the last one. This pattern is one of the instruments that John uses to emphasize the concentration of the whole of Jesus’ mission to his “elevation” (John 3:14; 8:28; 12:32) or “glorification” (7:39; 11:4 [ambiguous!]; 12:16, 23), that is, his crucifixion (and Resurrection). 2. Johannine chronology of the passion week, according to which Jesus dies on the “day of preparation,” synchronizes his death with the death of the Passover lambs that were slain in the Temple.
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3. In the presentation of Jesus’ story, John is clearly interested in the trial before Pilate. This scene is clearly an artificial composition in which the ritual scruples of the “Jews” make it possible to create two scenes with Pilate shuttling between them. With a clear hint of irony, the narration follows Pilate, who obviously dislikes Jesus’ accusers more than the accused, how he gradually slips under their influence and submits to their will.21 This is clearly a tendentious presentation—no matter whether the main “tendency” is to emphasize the guilt of the Jews or rather to show that it is not the will of either Jesus’ judge or his accusers that eventually prevails in this trial. 4. The description of the relationship between Jesus and the Baptist is also loaded with Johannine theological concepts. John emphasizes close analogy between the two,22 only to point out the contrast: the Baptist bears witness to Jesus by denying any messianic claims through a negative form of Jesus’ typical words (ἐγὼ οὐκ εἰμὶ, John 1:20 ff.); Jesus is said to have baptized (John 3:22) but the explicit reference to an “abundance of water” exclusively in connection with the activity of the Baptist is probably meant to indicate that Jesus’ baptizing did not require water, as he was “baptizing with the Holy Spirit,” just as the Baptist himself predicted (John 1:33). 5. The topographical data, by their archaeological confirmation, are shown to have a sound historical basis. But the uncertainty remains: Are they primary or secondary “stage settings” of the episodes? Sometimes they also have connotations of at least possible “added meaning.” The locale of Cana is apparently of special significance in John: two (numbered) “signs” and one “Johannine” disciple of Jesus are connected with this Galilean village (John 2:1, 11; 4:46, 54; 21:2). Does this have to do with the memory of Jesus’ activity in Galilee, for some reason lost or suppressed in the Synoptic tradition, or rather with the memories of a postEaster location of the disciple circles standing behind the Johannine tradition? However, if there were adherents of the Jesus movement (early Christians?) in Cana, is it not indirect evidence of Jesus’ previous activity there? Bethzatha (John 5:1 ff.) was a well-known place in Jerusalem and John connects to it a story with core elements strikingly similar to the Synoptic story situated in a private house in Capernaum (Mark 2:1 ff. par.). For some reason, John does not share the Synoptic impression that (Petrine?) Capernaum was the center of Jesus’ Galilean activities, and the “medical” environment of Bethzatha serves in John’s version of the story as a silent explanation for why in the following story and dialogues no one seems to pay any particular attention to the fact that a healing occurred there. Did John (or his source) move the story to another stage setting, or does the memory of an unexpected healing performed by Jesus at the public pool belong to the authentic tradition of his Jerusalem activities? In the case of Siloam (John 9:1 ff.), the Evangelist explicitly points out the translation of the name (v. 7), indicating that the motif of “sending” may be important for the meaning of the event. Again, there is a “rival” story in Mark with a similar element (healing of a blind man with the use of saliva, Mark 8:22-26), and again, it has an explicit and different—Galilean—local setting: Bethsaida. Johannine Siloam is a historically plausible and symbolically significant piece of specific information in a story that
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otherwise has no clear local anchoring. As for the places of Jesus’ interrogation, trial, and execution, they basically concur with the Synoptic data, except that they are more specific. In this case, the impression is strong that the narrator behind the Johannine version was simply well acquainted with the Jerusalem of Jesus’ last days and was able to fill in the details (either from the eyewitness testimony to the particular events or from general knowledge of the places). 6. Although there is a general tendency in the tradition to fill in names for originally anonymous persons,23 this is certainly not the case with either Nathanael or Nicodemus; their stories in John do not supply names for episodes of otherwise unnamed actors. Both seem to be parts of stories about people that were known to their original tradents, that is, historically authentic. At the same time, however, both Nathanael and Nicodemus have special places in the narrative strategy of the Evangelist. Nathanael is pronounced by Jesus as a “true Israelite” (John 1:47) and becomes thereby something of a model. He appears in the special “disciple” episodes at the very beginning and at the very end of the Gospel, both times in the Galilean setting (chs. 1 and 21). Within this Galilean “arc,” there is a Jerusalem inclusio in John’s structure, and this is marked by the figure of Nicodemus. He is also Jesus’ disciple (of sorts) and appears in connection with Jesus’ crucifixion (i.e., his “elevation”): in Jesus’ first visit to Jerusalem, right after his programmatic pronouncement “about the temple of his body” (John 2:18-22; Nicodemus turns up in ch. 3) and in Jesus’ last visit to Jerusalem, organizing his burial (John 19:3942).24 Again, it is difficult to discern in these stories what is history and what should be assigned to the literary creativity of the Evangelist (or his sources). 7. Jesus’ Jewishness as well as his contact with the Hellenistic culture can on the whole be quite safely taken as historically authentic. But what about the particularities that we find in the Gospel of John? Can we take the hints to Jesus’ Bethlehem birth as an independent confirmation of this tradition? Quite clearly, John is theologically interested in stressing Jesus’ Judean origin, as it adds sharpness to the paradox: “He came to his own and his own did not receive him” (John 1:11, εἰς τὰ ἴδια ἦλθεν, καὶ οἱ ἴδιοι αὐτὸν οὐ παρέλαβον). And the contact with “the Greeks” may be taken as proleptic signal of the Christian mission to the “nations.” To sum up: while nothing can be detracted from the observation standing behind Clement’s characterization of John as a “spiritual Gospel,” which can be translated into the technical language of New Testament scholarship as portraying Jesus explicitly in the perspective of “high Christology,” it should not be understood as implying John’s lack of interest in the “bodily matters” (τὰ σωματικά), that is, in history. Indeed, it is quite clear that John is interested in conveying historical (or historically plausible) data about Jesus and that he does so not marginally or incidentally. History is a vital part of the portrayal of Jesus that he wants to present. After all, this is the plain meaning of the programmatic statement in the prologue of the Gospel (John 1:14) that probably should capture the whole of Jesus’ earthly existence in three words: “the Word flesh became” (ὁ λόγος σὰρξ ἐγένετο).25
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The question is: “why does John weave history so resolutely into his ‘godly’ depiction of Jesus—and how does he do it?” Or perhaps rather in the reverse order: from following how he proceeds, some guesses can be made as to why. Understanding John’s general approach to history (memory) may then be helpful in assessing the pieces of information in the Fourth Gospel that are commended by their plausibility. Did John “bend” and perhaps sometimes “invent” history better to suit his purposes? Or did he, rather, “theologize” on the basis of the history that he found in his traditions (sources) and faithfully retained? Naturally, one option does not entirely exclude the other, but can we find some prevailing controlling principle? Can we trace some consistency in John’s way of handling historically “interesting” data?
The paradox: Jesus’ words and deeds In Synoptic research, the established way to the “how” of an evangelist is source criticism, distinguishing between “tradition” and “redaction.” This approach does not work well with the Gospel of John. Quite probably, the Fourth Evangelist did work with sources of some kind, but it is difficult to be more specific about them with certainty. While we are lacking the possibility of comparison that we have for the Synoptics, the criteria for identifying any sources in the Gospel of John are very hypothetical and subjective. With the Fourth Gospel, the only sound basis to start with seems to be its final form. We can suppose the sources behind it, but we cannot identify them in the rather compact text of the Gospel. Therefore, we will call “the Evangelist” the author of the final redaction of the Fourth Gospel and look at what he intends with the material composed in the form we have it in quite congruent manuscript evidence. One distinction, however, is quite easy to make: John resembles the Synoptic Gospels in composing his portrayal of Jesus out of two basic types of material, Jesus’ deeds and his words. For John there is a sharp contrast that can be observed between these two elements of his depiction of Jesus. What was perceived by Clement as a “spiritual” reflection about the significance of Jesus and what the current technical language of biblical scholarship would call “high Christology” is in the Gospel of John conveyed nearly exclusively through Jesus’ words. In John, the words of Jesus are presented in extensive speeches that generally, by their length, may more realistically evoke the authentic practice of Jesus’ teaching in longer orations, and perhaps may even contain some authentic elements characteristic of Jesus’ language.26 On the whole, however, their formulation is clearly the work of the Evangelist. The main topic of Jesus’ speeches in the Gospel is Jesus himself—his identity as “the Son of the (heavenly) Father,” his mission as the one who “has come from the Father” and must “do the work of the Father,” and so on. Quite pertinently these speeches are characterized as “revelatory.” They are only acceptable if understood as a communication of God himself. With respect to this (as well as to the other of his special emphases) John does not leave the reader without a clue and lets Jesus state it plainly: “The word that you hear is not mine, but is from the Father who sent me” (John 14:24).
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The narrative parts of the Gospel of John, on the contrary, represent Jesus—quite consistently—as very earthly a figure, extraordinary perhaps, but extraordinary within the range of the common human experience of “unusual.” These two basic aspects of Jesus’ activity (what he says and what he does) are intentionally brought into contrast by the Evangelist. This contrast is probably the main device of John’s portrayal of Jesus, that is, of Johannine Christology. In other words, not the “high Christology” as such, but this contrast between the God-like speech of Jesus and his “earthly,” commonplace representation in the narration is the true specific emphasis of the Fourth Gospel. This, of course, needs to be further clarified, specified, and verified.
The misunderstanding The intentionality of this contrast is confirmed by analysis of the Johannine use of irony and misunderstanding that has long been recognized as a characteristic technique of the Gospel of John.27 It is not difficult to observe that the misunderstanding that regularly arises in Jesus’ encounters with both his opponents and his adherents is not caused somehow by reduced perceptiveness or lesser intelligence of those people. Jesus’ partners in dialogue are regularly—and understandably!—puzzled by the fact that while they are facing a “teacher” from Nazareth they hear the voice of God’s selfrevelation. This is beyond their acceptance: Either Jesus’ claims must be understood in some weakened, “figurative” sense or in terms of blasphemy. Two examples speak for many. At the beginning of the passage that serves for the reader as a kind of “hermeneutical” clue to the whole of the Fourth Gospel, and its Christology, Nicodemus comes to Jesus with an assertion regarding Jesus’ identity: “Rabbi, we know that you have come from God as a teacher; for no one could perform the signs that you do unless God were with him.”28 This captures quite precisely the general Christological outlook of the Gospel of John: Jesus has indeed come from God and has come to teach (about God: ἐξηγήσατο, John 1:18). His teaching comes from his most intimate closeness to God and the “signs” he performs point to this true identity. At the same time, however, the pronouncement of Nicodemus can also mean no more than that Jesus is perceived as simply a “rabbi” of extraordinary power which is manifested in his wonder-provoking deeds: a “godly man,” perhaps in the manner of the prophets of old. This is probably what Nicodemus means, thus offering the reader a description of what those who encountered Jesus had before their eyes. Jesus does not refuse this pronouncement—rightly understood, it is correct—but at the same time he alerts Nicodemus to the fact that such right understanding, that is, truly seeing the reality he is bringing about,29 comes only with a thorough existential change described by the radical metaphor of a “new birth.” It is a typical case of Johannine misunderstanding: a more or less right description of what is perceived, only deprived of the understanding of its real meaning that consists in an unexpectedly literal sense. The ability to see this meaning, however, is “supernatural.”
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In this respect the reaction of the “Jews” to Jesus’ words about the “bread from heaven” (John 6:41 ff.) is quite telling: “Then the Jews began to complain about him because he said, ‘I am the bread that came down from heaven.’ They were saying, ‘Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, “I have come down from heaven”?’” Here again, the addressees of Jesus’ claim simply describe what they have before their eyes: “Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know”—an ordinary human being. This seems effectively to exclude his having a heavenly origin, representing some kind of spiritual reality that the metaphor of “heavenly bread” clearly is suggesting. In the following discourse, Jesus asserts this claim by pointing to the very “earthly” reality of his death and expresses its function as the means of giving life by using the extremely provocative language of cannibalism (John 6:53-58). Here too, Jesus’ true significance must be discovered through the unbearable paradox of what can be described in a very mundane narrative and the meaning that is ascribed to it by Jesus’ word. This literary strategy is based on the differentiation between the perspectives of the reader and those of the characters who appear and act in the inner world of the text. The readers, although they are to some extent represented in the text by its characters, stand by definition above the text. They listen to the narrator, follow his hints, and so on. John lets his readers hear directly the voice of divine revelation in Jesus’ words and at the same time has them look at Jesus through the eyes (and hear him through the ears) of those who encounter him in the narrated world of the text. These characters hear the same words the readers do, but they hear them from the lips of someone they see as belonging quite naturally to their world. And their world, the narrated world of the Fourth Gospel, is Palestine around 30 CE. Their misapprehending reactions are reported in order to alert the reader to that “unbearable” contrast. They do take notice of something special about Jesus, but it is specialness within the range of what may be generally expected. It is certainly not the kind of specialty that would account for the “God-like” revelatory language spoken by the Johannine Jesus. Their puzzlement thereby confirms the “earthiness”—or historical plausibility—of the Jesus they encounter.
The signs To say that the narrative parts of the Gospel of John present Jesus in the low, earthly mode invites an obvious objection: How does such a perspective come to terms with the Johannine miracle stories? They constitute a major part of the narrative in the Gospel—indeed, in the first concluding note (John 20:30 ff.) the Evangelist characterizes probably the whole of his book as a record of Jesus’ signs (σημεῖα). Can we then read the texts showing Jesus as a miracle worker as realistic representations of his humanity? We have just mentioned that in the Gospel of John Jesus’ miracles are called “signs,” that is, they are understood as showing Jesus’ significance, revealing his true identity— naturally the same identity that is proclaimed in his speeches. In the aforementioned concluding note, the purpose of recording the “signs” is stated as “so that you may
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come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God” and throughout the book it is clear enough that to “see a sign” means to come to faith.30 It is quite widely accepted that in recounting these stories, John tends to strengthen the miraculous element in them. In certain perspective, it is truly the case: ● ●
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The amount of wine that Jesus produces in Cana (John 2:1-11)31 is enormous. The distance at which Jesus heals the son of the royal officer from Capernaum (John 4:46-54) is substantially longer than in the Synoptic versions of this story,32 as the father meets Jesus in Cana. The paralytic healed at the pool of Bethzatha (John 5:1-9)33 had not been able to find help for a very long time, thirty-eight years. Before the feeding of the multitude (John 6:1-15)34 Philip explicitly states that even 200 denarii would not suffice to buy the bread that is needed. The blind man healed by Jesus (John 9:1-7)35 is explicitly said to have been born blind. The dead Lazarus brought to life by Jesus (John 11:1-44)36 had been buried for four days, so that the decay of his body had already begun.
In all these stories Jesus appears to the reader as someone in possession of supreme power, indeed, as a superterrestrial being. This makes it all the more surprising that it is obviously not perceived by those who participate in the narrated events—the “insiders” of the stories. And all the stories are recounted in such a way that they make the reader quite easily aware of this different perspective: ●
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In Cana Jesus does not seem to have appeared in public at all, he remains somewhere in the background. The “main steward,” apparently speaking for all other participants of the banquet, does notice a certain irregularity, but only consisting in the unusual order of serving wine. He is surprised by the better quality of the latter wine. This may be unexpected, abnormal, and perhaps even “unnatural,” but it would not be regarded as “supernatural.” It is also a nice example of Johannine irony when the ἀρχιτρίκλινος ascribes the supply of wine to the bridegroom: the reader can see that he is wrong (the wine was supplied by Jesus), and yet right (by supplying the wine, Jesus has shown himself to act as the “true” bridegroom). The healing of the son of the royal officer from Capernaum is narrated as a rather private affair between Jesus and the father. The distance from Cana to Capernaum may be perceived by the reader as magnifying the range of Jesus’ healing power, but within the story it clearly has a different function. It makes it impossible for anyone to experience the synchronicity of Jesus’ word and the actual healing. In Cana the father hears the word of Jesus, assuring him with the life of the son, but has no evidence of its effect. In Capernaum his servants observe the relief of the illness, but have no evidence of its cause. Both the pronouncement of life and the event of recovery are extraordinary, but would not be regarded as “supernatural.” The “miracle” consists in their interconnection and that is possible only in retrospect.
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The healing of a paralytic at the pool of Bethzatha is followed by a longer passage of mainly speeches, in which the meaning and significance of that deed is investigated (this will be characteristic also for all other miracle stories in the Gospel). It is quite striking that in this follow-up, none of the participants pays any attention to the fact that a healing had taken place. Only Jesus, the Evangelist (the Narrator) and the healed one himself speak about “healing,”37 but the others, presenting themselves as careful keepers of the Law, understand Jesus’ word just as inappropriate instruction, commanding what is prohibited. The elaborate description of the scene as a kind of sanatorium that John puts at the beginning of the episode might explain the lack of interest in the fact that Jesus’ command was a word of healing. In such a place, the occurrence of a healing probably was not all that unexpected. Only the Johannine version of the feeding of the multitude relates the reaction of the people (John 6:14-15). They want to take hold of Jesus and “to make him king,” because they have recognized in him “the prophet that [was] to come” and the narrator explicitly states that they came to such opinion as they “saw the sign that [Jesus] had done.” Their “seeing the sign,” however, is shortly afterward disproved by Jesus himself: in fact they did not see the sign, but only ate their “fill of the loaves” (John 6:26). This probably captures well the basic impression of the people: They have indeed experienced an extraordinary event, but nothing overwhelmingly exceeding the limits of earthly existence. Their rather pragmatic reaction, an attempt of some political action to enforce enthronement of a wonder-prophet, shows that they do not feel that they have encountered a superterrestrial, heavenly being. The story about the healing of the man born blind is told with the elements of a comedy. Various groups of people that take part in the discussions following the event of healing and who react to it are quite persistent in looking for some “natural” explanation: Either the healed one is someone else, or his impairment was in fact not of the kind it seemed to be. Repeatedly, the question being asked is of “how it happened” (πῶς ἠνεῴχθησάν σου οἱ ὀφθαλμοί; John 9:10, 15, 19, 26) and it repeatedly receives a simple answer, just describing the procedure: “He put mud on my eyes.” The ironical point of the narrator is obvious: By stubbornly asking the wrong questions, the interrogators show a strange kind of blindness and refuse to see what they have before their eyes. But again, this attitude of theirs is apparently permitted by what happened: the miraculous element was obviously not strong enough to rule this attitude out. Jesus’ miraculous deeds in the Gospel of John occur in increasing magnitude. And yet, as Jesus’ deeds take on “strength,” the lack of impression they leave on the participants (or at least on some of them) is all the more striking. The climax of this line of development is raising Lazarus from the dead. In this story the scheme is strained beyond any limits of historical credibility. The event itself, bringing to life someone who had been buried for four days, is definitely beyond the scope of conceivable human experience.38 Yet even here, John lets the people react as if nothing so very special happened. They form two groups, thus quite illustratively representing ambiguity that is characteristic for all (known) human
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experience: “Many of the Jews . . . who had . . . seen what Jesus did, believed in him, but some of them went to the Pharisees and told them” (John 11:45-46). We can see that John is quite consistent in emphasizing this ambiguity in the narrative (or descriptive) part of his material. Jesus as seen through the eyes of his contemporaries inside the story of the Gospel is a historically plausible Jesus—even the Jesus working miracles. In Jesus people do encounter something (someone) strange, perhaps unexpected, but nothing of the kind that would lead them directly and unequivocally to the recognition of Jesus’ real identity. They encounter a man from Nazareth, not a “God walking over the Earth” (Käsemann). His deeds are certainly not conspicuous enough to offer sufficient support to the claim made in his words—this itself may well be historically accurate representation. This is probably the core of the Johannine concept of “signs.” The term σημεῖον is used in the Synoptic passages where Jesus is asked to legitimate his claim by some special deed that would provide evidence of heavenly backing for his activity.39 Obviously his miracle-working activity was not perceived as such evidence.40 It is probably in polemic against such perception—and in line with Jesus’ Synoptic (Q) reply to the Baptist41—that John consistently calls Jesus’ miracles “signs.” It is clear that to “see a sign,” it is not sufficient to be a participant-observer of some of Jesus’ extraordinary deeds: To “see a sign” is to penetrate to the proper meaning of the event, to understand how it points to the reality of the “Kingdom of God.” The ability of such sight is not a natural capacity of men, emphasizes Jesus to Nicodemus (John 3:3, 5). Of equal importance, however, is that it still is a sight, that is, an understanding of the meaning of something that can be observed, of some event that has a historical aspect.42 In John “seeing a sign” is a representation of the act of faith, that is, right recognition of Jesus’ true identity.43 Quite decidedly, this representation emphasizes that such recognition of faith is not reached through some “otherworldly” introspection, but through finding the true meaning of the earthly events effected by Jesus—of his history. This recognition always has the form of a paradox. It is counterintuitive. John is apparently convinced that this belongs to the nature of Christian faith in general, and therefore writes his book—as a record of a representative collection of “signs” that would sufficiently serve the faith (John 20:30-31). Christian faith is, according to John, in an essential way bound to history—to the Jesus of history. He invites his readers to listen to the godly words of Jesus, the supreme “exegete” of God (John 1:18), but he quite consistently puts these speeches permeated with “high Christology” on the lips of Jesus as he was—plausibly enough—encountered and perceived by his contemporaries.
Plausible and historical Jesus I hope to have shown here that the historically plausible depiction of Jesus is part of the main authorial strategy of the Fourth Evangelist. Accordingly, the historical material that has been identified in his Gospel is by no means some fossil or petrified residue of
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the primitive layers of Johannine tradition, preserved just out of pious respect to the ancient memories. Rather, it is a functional device of John’s portrayal of Jesus and his Christology. What follows from this observation for the question of using the Fourth Gospel as a resource for historical issues in the Jesus Research? Caution, in the first place. If respect for primitive traditions were the only or main reason for preserving them in John, the chances of their historical authenticity would be high. If, however, the historically credible depiction of Jesus plays so vital a role in John’s Christology, it is exposed to suspicion that the history in John is not really authentic. It may not be based on a memory connected from the very beginning to the respective pieces of Jesus tradition, but may have only been secondarily added in order to serve the theological (Christological) purpose of the Evangelist. Virtually all the details with a high amount of historical probability detected in John have (at least possibly) also some symbolical meaning. And we simply cannot be sure about the source of the historically plausible information that we detect in John. It may well have been just a generally good and precise knowledge of the milieu of Jesus’ ministry in Palestine, and particularly in Jerusalem. Certainly, the paradoxical connection between content and vessel of godly speech sounding from the lips of the Galilean wonder-worker and teacher Jesus of Nazareth is an artificial creation of the Evangelist. Surely, the speeches themselves are artificial compositions of the Evangelist (and/or his tradition), and the same applies to the narrative in the present form. But what about the historical elements that the Evangelist employs within the scheme? Each of the potential candidates for historical authenticity that has been detected in the Gospel certainly has to be pondered on its own. At the same time there are some general considerations, following from what has been said here, that speak in favor of placing some elementary trust in the parts of John that appear historically plausible as being in fact genuine pieces of history. First of all, the emphasis of the historically plausible Jesus that we have observed in the Gospel would make little sense in an environment with no or little access to such historical information. It is much more probable that such emphasis on the importance of the earthly Jesus for the Christian faith would emerge among those who were in possession of trusted and reliable memories, guaranteed by the eye witnesses, as both main Johannine writings actually claim (John 19:35; 21:24; 1 John 1:1). Fabrication of artificial plausibility, even if based on a genuine general historical knowledge, would contradict in principle the claim to present Jesus in his distinctively earthly existence—which is, taken seriously, the meaning of “became flesh” (σὰρξ ἐγένετο) in John 1:14. Second, creative reworking and historical fidelity do not necessarily exclude each other. The mere fact that something is ascribed some symbolic meaning, that it fits well into certain “Tendenzen,” should not be automatically taken as a reason for suspicion that history is being bent in the interests of ideology. It can well be that the interpretation is genuinely based on the history, and that a “deeper” meaning is drawn from what “just happened.” Indeed, we can quite easily observe that John is employing such a technique of “multilayer” meaning.44
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And, third, we may consider the relationship of the Fourth Gospel to the previous three Gospels. In not a few cases, John supplies information that is alternative to the Synoptics. If the author of the Gospel of John, and his readers, did know the other Gospels, which is more than probable, he must have had some good reason for “correcting” those older writings that surely already enjoyed certain authority. The best conceivable reason would be the confidence that he (his tradition) “knew better.”
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Jesus and the Historical Implications of John’s Temple Cleansing Michael A. Daise
John’s Temple incident and Jesus Research Jesus’ rout of vendors and money-changers from the Temple addresses one of the most pressing questions to be posed of Jesus: What was his posture toward the Jerusalem cult? “Any historical treatment of Jesus of Nazareth,” writes Jostein Ådna, “must include a discussion of his relationship to the Temple in Jerusalem”;1 and most prominent among the loci to be considered in such a discussion is the story traditionally called Jesus’ “cleansing of the Temple.”2 The value of this episode for Jesus Research has been much debated and primarily turns on two issues: one is its placement in the sequence of Jesus’ public ministry; the other, its traditio-historical pedigree relative to the Synoptic Gospels. With regard to the first (John’s placement of the episode), Matthew, Mark, and Luke set the event at the conclusion of Jesus’ public ministry, just prior to the Passover in which he is crucified. John, by contrast, has it at the beginning of that ministry, during an earlier Passover (not indicated in the Synoptics) at which he launches his mission to the populace at large. Most believe the Synoptics have it right and that John relocated the story. Some, however, are convinced otherwise, contending either that John has it right (and Jesus issued his protest at the onset of his ministry),3 that both had it right (and Jesus “cleansed” the Temple twice) or that both got it wrong (and Jesus performed the act “at a time different from that indicated by either of the Gospels” [Mark or John]).4 All of this is to say that the import of John’s Temple cleansing for Jesus Research has partly turned on the timing of the incident in Jesus’ public ministry. Is John’s placement of it at the onset of that ministry historically plausible? With regard to the second issue (the relation of John’s source to Synoptic tradition), the question has concerned the criterion of multiple attestation. Does John’s account of the Temple incident betray dependence upon a non-Synoptic tradition, which, thereby, attests to the event independently?5 Addressing this question involves linguistic analysis,6 but it has particularly targeted the features (rather than vocabulary) in John which differ from the Synoptics, assessing their import on a two-edged assumption: first, that, if a Johannine difference from the Synoptics reflects a Johannine Tendenz, it is best explained as John’s reworking of Synoptic tradition; second, that, if it does not reflect such a Tendenz,
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it is better explained as John’s dependence on a tradition which circulated independently of the Synoptics and which, therefore, doubly attests to the event.7 Proceeding this way is believed to yield a twofold historiographical “payoff.” On a fundamental (positivist?) level (already noted above), it can buttress the “historicity” of the story against charges that it is fiction.8 On a more nuanced plane, however, it can offer a second perspective on the event which, when negotiated against the Synoptic versions (the criterion of coherence), allows some modest conclusions to be made about the nature and purpose of the act. So Mark Matson concludes that the deed was essentially eschatological: The final test was coherence. The basic elements of the event in John resemble closely those in the Synoptics: the tipping of tables, the disruption of sellers, the presence of moneychangers. This basic agreement is strong evidence for the historical existence of the basic features of the story. More than that, however, we can see common features which suggest that the traditions underlying both John and the Synoptics point to the same kind of action: Jesus was acting out a prediction of eschatological destruction of the Temple, as well as envisaging both a new Temple and a new age in which all nations would worship with Israel.9
The Johannine account revisited On this assumption a number of exegetes have been quick to identify John’s differences from the Synoptics in this episode as non-Johannine and, therefore, as indicators of an independent tradition. James McGrath identifies three features which are “usually listed” as “neither derived from the Synoptics nor likely added by the Gospel’s” composer: the “whip of cords,” “which serves no obvious Johannine purpose,” the “oxen and sheep,” and the references to Zech 14:21 and Ps 69:10 (rather than Isa 56:7 and Jer 7:11), which similarly “do not connect in an obvious way with the author’s own perspective on the event.”10 Ådna would add John’s depiction of Jesus pouring out the “coinage” of the money-changers, as well as his description of Jesus expelling the pigeon sellers with the demand, “Take these things hence.”11 And, aside from the episode’s placement (which he ascribes to John), Matson seems to concede just one difference between John and the Synoptics to Johannine theological concerns—and that, only a potential variance: the removal of the phrase “made without hands” in the logion at John 2:19, should John have depended on Mark 14:57-58 (which Matson rejects).12 Indeed, the conclusion that many, if not all, of John’s differences from the Synoptics in this episode are non-Johannine (and therefore not derived from the Synoptics) is vividly expressed by Paula Fredriksen in her recent study of the Temple incident and Jesus’ death. The Synoptics and John, she writes, place the incident at radically different points in their respective stories, and each gives Jesus different lines to speak. For these reasons, I assume their independence. That is, I do not think that John read Mark and then decided to disconnect Mark’s story about Jesus’ action from events in Jesus’ final week, bump the episode forward, change Jesus’ speech—although not Jesus’ point—and then heighten the drama by adding stampeding quadrupeds.13
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This assessment of the peculiar features in John’s Temple cleansing is not altogether illfounded. Matson is likely correct, for instance, that it is difficult to detect a Johannine Tendenz in John’s portrayal of Jesus ousting the pigeon sellers by directive rather than muscle.14 A closer look at the episode’s relation to the Fourth Gospel’s narrative and theology, however, shows that by-and-large this judgment overreaches the evidence— that is, that the ratio of Johannine to non-Johannine features falls much more toward the former than has been appreciated. Moreover, the verbal and thematic rapport which exists between the Temple cleansing and Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem at John 12:12-16 brings into relief an affinity with the Synoptics that renders notions of an early Temple incident (or independent tradition) highly improbable. This discussion hopes to demonstrate these points by revisiting the episode’s distinctive features with a more careful eye toward John’s literary prowess and theology.15 Could more of these elements serve Johannine interests than some exegetes have claimed? To address this question John’s distinctive features will be recounted in some detail, then assessed in a sequence which will show that (1) most of them indeed serve John’s literary and theological designs and that (2) in a putative earlier tradition John’s Temple cleansing (similar to the Temple cleansing in the Synoptics) may have come immediately after Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. From such observations it will be concluded that (a) the placement of John’s Temple incident at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry should not be taken as a serious historical option and (b) the peculiar features of that incident should not be mistaken for a non-Synoptic attestation to the event.
The distinctive features of John’s Temple incident John’s Temple cleansing coincides with its Synoptic counterparts in fundamental structure. It differs from them, however, in numerous details and, as noted above, includes a second pericope and logion which appear at other points in the Synoptic narratives, as well as in the Gospel of Thomas.16 Its peculiar features number no less than fifteen. The most salient has already been noted:
1. In the Synoptics the Temple incident occurs at the close of that ministry, just prior to the Passover in which Jesus dies; in John it occurs at the beginning of that ministry, during an earlier Passover in which Jesus launches his mission to the populace. In the first of the two pericopes17 are nine more distinctive features.
2. Where the Synoptics have Jesus casting people out immediately after entering the Temple, John has him pause, so as to “find” the vendors and money-changers conducting their business: “In the Temple he found (εὗρεν) those selling oxen, sheep and pigeons, and the money-changers sitting.”18 3. Where the market in the Synoptics (particularly, Matthew and Mark) consists of pigeon sellers and money-changers, the market in John also includes sellers of oxen and sheep.
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4. Where Matthew and Mark depict Jesus casting out both buyers and sellers—and
5. 6.
7. 8. 9.
Luke has him doing so only to sellers—John has him casting out either a. the oxen and sheep only or b. the oxen, sheep, money-changers and (with Luke) sellers.19 Where the Synoptics tell nothing of the means by which Jesus performed this act, John describes him making and using “a whip of cords.”20 Where Matthew and Mark have Jesus overturn both the tables of the moneychangers and the seats of those selling pigeons, John has him overturn the tables and spill the coinage (τὸ κέρμα) of the money-changers, and further has him remove the pigeon sellers only by demand: “And to those selling the pigeons he said, ‘Take these things hence.’”21 Where Mark has Jesus forbidding anyone from carrying a vessel through the Temple,22 John (with Matthew and Luke) describes no such prohibition. Where in the Synoptics Jesus issues his scriptural reference to all, in John it is only to the pigeon sellers: “And to those selling the pigeons he said, ‘Take these things hence; do not make my Father’s house a house of merchandise.’”23 Where in the Synoptics Jesus quotes a conflation of Isa 56:7 and Jer 7:11 that targets thievery (and, for Mark, Jewish exclusivism), in John he alludes to Zech 14:2 (reading כנעניas “merchant” rather than “Canaanite”) and targets commerce in general.
Mark 11:17 (Isa 56:7; Jer 7:11)24
John 2:16 (Zech 14:21)25
And he was teaching and saying to them, “Do not make my Father’s house a house “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called of merchandise.” a house of prayer for all nations’? But you have made it a den of robbers.”
10. And where in the Synoptics the pericope ends with either Jesus’ quotation (Matthew and Luke) or perhaps a collusion to destroy him (Mark),26 in John it is followed by a commentary saying that upon this act his disciples “remembered” Ps 69:10a as being fulfilled: “His disciples remembered (ἐμνήσθησαν) that it is written, ‘Zeal for your house will consume me.’”27 In the pericope following the Temple act in John28 come five further differences from the Synoptics.
11. In the Synoptic Gospels the demand for Jesus to legitimate his actions (Legitimationsfrage) does not immediately follow the Temple incident, but occurs after some time and developments have passed:29 in Matthew those developments are further healings, a confrontation with opponents over his popularity, an overnight stay at Bethany, and the cursing of the fig tree;30 in Mark, an overnight stay outside the city and the cursing of the fig tree;31 and in Luke, a conspiracy to assassinate him and (it is assumed) several days teaching in the Temple.32 In John, by contrast, the demand occurs on the heels of the Temple incident and has that incident alone in view.33
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12. In the Synoptics the demand for legitimation is put to Jesus specifically by chief priests, elders, and (except for Matthew) scribes; in John it is issued by “the Jews” at large: “The Jews then answered and said to him, ‘What sign do you show us?’”34 13. In the Synoptics these interrogators ask Jesus to disclose the authority on which he acts: “On what authority do you do these things? Or who gave you this authority to do these things?”35 In John they ask him for a “sign” to justify his deeds: “What sign (σημεῖον) do you show us, that you do these things?”36 14. In the Synoptics Jesus evades answering his interlocutors’ question by returning a query about John the Baptist which they decline to answer in public; in John, by contrast, Jesus answers their question with a logion37 that a. in Matthew, Mark, and Luke-Acts appears in slightly different form amid other contexts but that b. in John throws his interrogators into confusion. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke-Acts the idea of Jesus destroying the current Temple and building a new one is articulated in Jesus’ trial before the Sanhedrin, Jesus’ crucifixion and Stephen’s trial before the Sanhedrin; and in those scenes it is falsely ascribed to Jesus and to Stephen. In John and the Gospel of Thomas, by contrast, that notion is spoken by Jesus himself, albeit with the modifications that (a) in Thomas the Temple (identified as “this house”) will not be rebuilt and (b) in John the Jews (rather than Jesus) will do the destroying. Destroying and building the Temple in the Synoptic Gospels Jesus’ trial before the Sanhedrin (Matthew and Mark) The chief priests and the whole Sanhedrin were seeking false testimony against Jesus, that they might put him to death; and they were not finding any, though many false witnesses came forward. But at last, two, coming forward, said, “This one claimed, ‘I am able to destroy the sanctuary of God and to build it in three days.’”38 And some, having stood up, were bearing false witness against him, saying, “We heard him saying, ‘I will destroy this sanctuary made with hands and in three days will build another not made with hands.’”39
Jesus’ crucifixion (Matthew and Mark) And those passing by were vilifying him, wagging their heads and saying, “You who would destroy the sanctuary and build it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross!”40 And those passing by were vilifying him, wagging their heads and saying, “Ha! You who would destroy the sanctuary and build it in three days, save yourself by coming down from the cross!”41
Stephen’s trial before the Sanhedrin (Luke-Acts) And they stirred up the people, the elders and the scribes; and having come upon him, they seized him and led him to the Sanhedrin. And they set up false witnesses who were saying, “This man does not cease speaking words against this holy place and the law. For we have heard him saying that this Jesus of Nazareth will destroy this place and change the customs which Moses handed down to us.”42
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Destroying and building the Temple in the Gospel of Thomas and the Gospel of John Gospel of Thomas §71
Gospel of John 2:19
Jesus said, “I shall destroy [thi]s house, Jesus answered them and said, “Destroy this sanctuary, and in three days I will raise it.” and no one will be able to build it.”43 Further, once this saying is spoken by Jesus in John, it is mistaken by the Jews to be referring to the renovated Herodian Temple, then explained by a commentary to be signifying the death and Resurrection of Jesus’ body: “The Jews said to him, ‘This sanctuary was built over forty-six years, and will you raise it in three days?’ But he was speaking about the sanctuary of his body.”44
15. Finally, where in the Synoptics the pericope on the demand for Jesus’ legitimacy concludes with Jesus’ response to his interlocutors (or in Mark perhaps a collusion by chief priests and scribes to destroy him),45 in John the commentary which explains his logion as referring to his body continues, declaring that upon his Resurrection his disciples would again “remember”—this time both that logion and the scripture: “When therefore he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered (ἐμνήσθησαν) that he was saying this; and they believed the scripture and the word which Jesus spoke.”46
John’s Temple incident in the Fourth Gospel’s narrative and theology The examination of these features begins with the second pericope (John 2:18-22), then roughly moves backward to the disciples “remembrance” at John 2:17, 21-22, the juxtaposition of the two pericopes (John 2:13-17/18-22), the literary/ theological relationship of John 2:13-22 with John 12:12-16 and, finally, the features of the first pericope (John 2:13-17).
The second pericope (John 2:18-22) Features serving John’s interests are most notable in the second pericope (the demand for Jesus to legitimate his actions) and in the two references to the disciples’ “remembering,” which occur in the commentaries at John 2:17 and John 2:21-22. Regarding the second pericope, there appear at least three: that the interrogators are cast as “the Jews” at large (rather than as specific groups among them) reflects John’s penchant to collapse distinctions of office, class, sect, and the like into the broader term οἱ Ἰουδαἶοι; that those interlocutors mistake Jesus to mean the Herodian Temple (rather than “the sanctuary of his body”) reflects the Johannine convention of having an ambiguous saying from Jesus (double entendre) taken wrongly by those with whom he is speaking (Mißverständnis);47 and that those interlocutors demand a “sign” (rather than the identity of Jesus’ commissioning authority) aligns with the
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Evangelist’s theologically driven practice of calling Jesus’ works of power by the term σημεῖον.48 This last point has been challenged by Matson on at least two bases: that the difference between Mark’s reference to Jesus’ “authority” (ἐξουσία) and John’s reference to a “sign” (σημεῖον) is “too great to be explained by literary dependence”; and that “it is hard to see how (such a) change fits John’s theological interest.” Matson acknowledges the key role played by “signs” in the Fourth Gospel, but observes that this particular “sign” is among those which are deemed pre-Johannine because “they lack the traditional meaning that John gives to the word.”49 A similar case is made by Rudolf Schnackenburg, who contends that, since the “sign” at John 2:18 (like σημεῖα in the Synoptics) is demanded “by sceptics” rather than identified by Jesus or the Evangelist, it is meant to be “a preternatural event to accredit Jesus’ mission” rather than a manifestation of “the majesty and saving power bestowed upon” Jesus himself.50 To the contrary, however, this “sign” is clearly identified as the kind done by Jesus and espoused by the Evangelist when in the following verses Jesus and the commentary define it as his Resurrection: “‘Destroy this sanctuary, and in three days I will raise it.’ . . . He was speaking about the sanctuary of his body.”51 Not only does that deed manifest “the majesty and saving power” bestowed on Jesus in the Fourth Gospel (as Schnackenburg would have it for “signs”); it fits hand-in-glove with the way the Johannine σημεῖα unfold in the narrative. One of the key techniques by which John invests his theology into this term is the sequence into which he places the featured “signs” in the narrative: during Jesus’ public ministry they unfold in an order of increasing difficulty, running roughly in a crescendo from changing water into wine (the wedding at Cana) to raising another man from the dead (Lazarus).52 By having Jesus define his own Resurrection as the “sign” sought by the Jews at John 2:18, John is following suit with this practice by forecasting that Jesus’ raising of another man from the dead (Lazarus) will, itself, be surpassed by the more difficult task of raising himself from the dead (the sanctuary of his body) at the end of the story.53 As such, the “sign” demanded by the Jews at John 2:18 does, indeed, follow “the traditional meaning that John gives to the word,” to quote Matson, and thereby serves the broader Christology of the Gospel.
A “geistgewirkte Erinnern” Regarding the references to disciples “remembering” at John 2:17 and John 2:2122 (hereafter called “remembrance” formulae), it should first be noted that, to be understood correctly, they must be examined in connection with a third mention of such “remembrance,” which closes Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem at John 12:16. After the account of that entry that describes Jesus being greeted with Ps 118:25-26 and riding into Jerusalem in fulfillment of Zech 9:9,54 it comments, “His disciples did not recognize these things at first; but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered (ἐμνήσθησαν) that these things had been written about him and that they did these things to him.”55 This verse is the only other place in John where Jesus’ disciples are said to “remember” (μιμνήσκεσθαι) something; and, as such, it strongly suggests that
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a proper grasp of the first two instances (in John 2) requires a consideration of it (in John 12), as well. In the first instance the disciples “remember” the fulfillment of Ps 69:10 at Jesus’ Temple cleansing; in the second, they “remember” both the fulfillment of Jesus’ logion on the sanctuary of his body and “the scripture,” which may refer to the Bible in general, an individual but unspecified verse in it,56 or (more specifically) the quotation of Ps 69:10 just prior to it at John 2:17;57 and in the third instance they “remember” the fulfillment of Ps 118:25-26 and Zech 9:9 at Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem: ●
●
●
His disciples remembered (ἐμνήσθησαν) that it is written, “Zeal for your house will consume me” (Ps 69:10).58 When therefore he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered (ἐμνήσθησαν) that he was saying this; and they believed the scripture and the word which Jesus spoke.59 The next day a great crowd, having come to the feast and having heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, took palm branches and went out to meet him. And they were crying out, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord, the King of Israel” (Ps 118:25-26).
And Jesus, having found a young donkey, sat upon it, as it is written, “Fear not, daughter of Zion. Behold your king is coming, sitting upon the colt of a donkey” (Zech 9:9). His disciples did not recognize these things at first; but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered (ἐμνήσθησαν) that these things had been written about him and that they did these things to him.60
With this understood, it can further be noted that these “remembrance” formulae are tethered to the Fourth Gospel’s pneumatology.61 The locus on which the connection turns is John 14:25-26, where during the Farewell Discourse Jesus tells his disciples they will be given what Martin Hengel has dubbed “das geistgewirkte Erinnern,” a Spirit-wrought recollection after Jesus’ return to the Father62: These things I have spoken to you while abiding with you. But the Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, that one will teach you all things and will remind you [ὑπομνήσει ὑμᾶς] of all that I have said to you.
The items to be recalled according to these verses are not passages of scripture per se, such as the disciples “remember” at John 2:17, 22 and John 12:16. They are teachings of Jesus: “that one will . . . remind you of all that I have said to you,” says Jesus in
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John 14. Two factors, however, suggest that both are meant—and, therefore, that the pneumatology of John 14:25-26 extends to the disciples’ “remembrance” of the quotations in John 2 and 12. First, the references to the disciples’ “remembrance,” themselves, blend the two. The “remembrance” at John 2:22ab refers, not to a biblical quotation, but to Jesus’ logion at John 2:19; yet, besides being lexically and thematically associated with the “remembrances” at John 2:17 and 12:16 (which do refer to biblical quotations), it is immediately followed by a line (John 2:22c) that treats the disciples’ later belief in this logion alongside their tandem belief in “scripture”: “When therefore he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered (ἐμνήσθησαν) that he was saying this; and they believed the scripture (τῇ γραφῇ) and the word (τῷ λόγῷ) which Jesus spoke.” Second, two (if not all three) of the disciples’ recollections are dated to the same time at which the Spirit was to remind the disciples of these matters according to John 14:25-26—that is, after the Resurrection. This is clear in John 2:22 and John 12:16, where the disciples are said to have remembered “when . . . [Jesus] was raised from the dead” and “when Jesus was glorified,” respectively. As for John 2:17, no such marker appears, and this has been taken by some to indicate a remembrance that occurred “in the actual situation” rather than after the Resurrection.63 Elements of the context in which this formula is set, however, suggest otherwise: it is lexically and thematically tied to the other “remembrance” formulae, which do date their quotations after the Resurrection; it lies in close proximity to one of those formulae, John 2:22ab; and (as noted above) its quotation may be one-and-the-same with the “scripture” mentioned at John 2:22c, which is explicitly made an object of the disciples’ faith after the Resurrection. Such factors suggest that the absence of any chronological marker at John 2:17 may rather reflect an ellipsis, a deliberate omission of information that is expected to be supplied from elsewhere. That is, the disciples’ “remembrance” at John 2:17 may lack post-Resurrection language simply because the Evangelist expected it to be inferred from John 2:22 (and perhaps from John 12:16).64 As such, the recollection ascribed to the disciples at John 2:17, 22, and John 12:1216 is, indeed, part of the recollection they were promised to receive from the Spirit at John 14:25-26.65 For the issue at hand, this means that the two “remembrance” formulae in John’s Temple cleansing episode (with the quotations and logion to which they refer) are tied to the Fourth Gospel’s pneumatology; and thus, like the three features of the second pericope treated above, that they also serve the Fourth Gospel’s style and theology.
The contiguity of the pericopes If these “remembrance” formulae (with their quotations and logion) are Johannine, they carry a feature which suggests John was responsible for placing the question about Jesus’ legitimacy immediately after the Temple cleansing. It was noted above that John’s placement of that question differs from the Synoptic location: where in the Synoptics it comes after some time and developments have passed from the Temple incident, in John it occurs immediately after that event and has that act alone in view (distinction #11 above). The variance has been explained by some as
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due to Synoptic (specifically, Markan) rather than Johannine redaction; that is, it has been proposed that both pericopes were contiguous in a source common to Mark and John, and that Mark broke it apart while John retained it intact.66 The quotation “remembered” by the disciples at John 2:17, however, suggests it may have been the other way round.67 The quotation is Ps 69:10a (LXX 68:10a). It was deemed by Victor Eppstein to be a failed attempt at casting the Temple cleansing as fulfilled prophecy, “a gesture of frustration and quite pointless in context.”68 Its role in John’s account, however, is, in fact, critical; and its relevance for the relation of John 2:18-22 to John 2:13-17 lies with an anomaly in the tense of its verb: where the Hebrew Bible and LXX read preterites— “zeal for your house (has) consumed me” (אכלתני/κατέφαγέν με)—John’s rendering has a future—“zeal for your house will consume me” (καταφάγεταί με). Alternate readings in several LXX and NT manuscripts remove the difference by changing one tense or the other, but likely betray scribal attempts to harmonize the two Testaments.69 And, if it is assumed that the modification occurred by authorial intention (rather than human error or happenstance), exegetical solutions to date labor under heavy difficulties. One, offered by Rudolf Bultmann, explains the tense change as the Evangelist’s attempt to make the passage appear as fulfilled prophecy;70 and this emerges in a different key with the suggestion by C. K. Barrett that John’s future tense may, in fact, reflect an accurate translation of the Hebrew, since “the future is a possible rendering of the Hebrew perfect.”71 As pointed out by Maarten Menken, however, this explanation cannot be sustained, since preterites in similar Johannine quotations are not so altered.72 A second hypothesis argues that the tense change was made to fit the Fourth Gospel’s depiction of Jesus’ Temple cleansing as the ultimate cause of his demise. It, in fact, reflects a long-standing interpretation of Ps 69:10 at John 2:17, but has been pointedly applied to the future καταφάγεται by Menken. In it that verb, “consume” (κατεσθίειν), does not mean “to possess the emotions,” as it normally would. It rather denotes “to effect consequences that end in reprisal”; and, as such, the rendering “Zeal for your house will consume me” signifies that the ardor which Jesus displays for the Temple at John 2 will provoke retaliation from his enemies by John 20.73 As Menken argues it, this proposal rests on two premises. The first is that such a reading reflects the meaning of the verse in its original context: Ps 69:10a is deemed to be in synonymous parallelism with Ps 69:10b: “the reproaches of those who reproach you [God] fell upon me.” Inasmuch as this second colon articulates repercussions experienced by the psalmist for his actions, the first colon too, it is argued, should be understood to do the same. “The parallelism between vv. 10a and 10b,” writes Menken, “makes it likely that the same thought has been expressed in v. 10a: the option in favour of God, now called zeal for God’s house, has brought him the misery he describes (cf. vv. 2–3, 15–16).”74 The second premise is that such a reading of the verse matches the early Christian use of Ps 69 for Jesus’ Passion. Elsewhere in the Fourth Gospel, as well as at other loci in the New Testament, Ps 69, in general, and Ps 69:10b, in particular, are referenced (it is claimed) to interpret Jesus’ suffering and death:75
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Ps 69 in the Gospel of John Ps 69:5
John 15:22-25/Ps 69:5 They increased If I had not come beyond the hairs of and spoken to them, my head, those who they would not have hate me without sin; but now they cause; my enemies have no excuse for who persecute their sin. . . . If I had me unjustly grew not done among strong. That which them the works I did not seize I which no other did, would then repay they would not have (emphasis added). sin; but now they have seen and hated both me and my Father. But it is that the word written in their law might be fulfilled, “They hated me without cause” (emphasis added).
Ps 69:22
John 19:28-30/ Ps 69:22 And they gave gall After this, Jesus, as my food, and for knowing that my thirst they gave all things were me vinegar to drink finished, that the (emphasis added). scripture might be accomplished, said, “I thirst.” A jar full of vinegar was there; so, wrapping a sponge full of the vinegar around hyssop, they brought it to his mouth. When he received the vinegar, therefore, Jesus said, “It is finished;” and bowing his head, he gave up his spirit (emphasis added).
Ps 69 Outside the Gospel of John Ps 69:10
Romans 15:3/Ps 69:10b
Hebrews 11:24-26/ Ps 69:10b
For zeal for your house consumed me, and the reproaches of those who reproach you fell upon me (emphasis added).
For, indeed, Christ did not please himself; but, as it is written, “the reproaches of those who reproach you fell upon me” (emphasis added).
By faith Moses . . . refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, having considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he looked toward the reward (emphasis added).
Since Ps 69 at these junctures is used for the reprisal Jesus experienced from his opponents, the same is inferred for the quotation of Ps 69:10a at John 2:17—“zeal for your house will consume me” is taken to mean Jesus’ ardor in the Temple provoked retaliation that would later bring his demise. These premises, however, are vulnerable to challenge along three lines: The sense of the verb “consume” in Ps 69; the bearing of references to Ps 69:10b on John’s quotation of Ps 69:10a; and the relation of Jesus’ Temple cleansing to his death in the Fourth Gospel. With regard to the first—the sense of the verb “consume” in Ps 69—Menken assumes that the cola in Ps 69:10 relate to each other in synonymous parallelism. They
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can, in fact, however, be read in synthetic parallelism, as cause-to-effect rather than articulation and rearticulation: For zeal for your house consumed me, and (therefore) the reproaches of those who reproach you fell upon me. As such, the “reproaches” that fall upon the psalmist in v. 10b are not one-and-thesame with the “consuming” he experiences in v. 10a. Rather, they are repercussions of the “zeal” for God’s “house” which took control of him in that preceding colon, and this, in turn, gives the verb “consume” the sense of “possessing the emotions” rather than “effecting consequences that end in reprisal.” With regard to the second line of challenge—the bearing of references to Ps 69:10b on John 2:17/Ps 69:10a—if the reading of Ps 69:10 in its original context is as just described (i.e., in synthetic rather than synonymous parallelism), early Christian references that apply Ps 69:10b to Jesus’ Passion have no necessary connection to the meaning of Ps 69:10a at John 2:17. Put another way, that Paul applies the one (v. 10b) to Jesus’ suffering and death76 does not mean John could not have applied the other (v. 10a) solely to his disposition during the Temple cleansing. And with regard to the third line of challenge—the relevance of Jesus’ Temple cleansing to his death in the Fourth Gospel—in John (unlike the Synoptics)77 Jesus’ Temple cleansing is not the impetus for his death: the reaction to it at John 2:18-22 does not include a desire to kill him; and, conversely, the expression of such a desire elsewhere in the Gospel is evoked by other factors: his healing on the Sabbath, his professed parity with God, his potential provocation of Rome and his claim to royalty.78 Paul Anderson contends that the “earlier offense” of the Temple cleansing is implied in the Jews’ designs to kill Jesus for healing on the Sabbath and calling God his Father in John 5:16-18,79 but this begs the question. The text traces the hostilities explicitly to these two latter offenses alone;80 and no basis exists for inferring a third factor from a previous point in the narrative. Rudolf Schnackenburg, himself an advocate of the dominant hypothesis, admits that in John “Jesus’ action (in the Temple) has no recognizable after-effects” and that the incident “which gives the final impulse to the decision on Jesus’ death” is, in fact, “the raising of Lazarus.”81 As such, this point— together with the previous two—suggests that the dominant explanation for καταφάγεται at John 2:17/Ps 69:10 is as problematic as it is widespread. To press further, one might consider with Barrett that reading the quotation this way is “a very strained interpretation” and, further, that “there seems . . . to be no good reason why the Psalmist and John should not both have spoken of consuming zeal.”82 A less encumbered solution may be found along two other lines, and, for the issue at hand, one of them suggests that the placement of the question about Jesus’ legitimacy (John 2:18-22) directly after the Temple incident (John 2:13-17) also serves Johannine interests.83 The line in question sees Jesus’ Temple act in John 2 as proleptic of a metaphorized temple act to occur later in the narrative, and, as such, it understands the tense change from preterite to future as signaling that the “zeal” which “consumed” Jesus for the first act in John 2 “will consume” him yet again for another act in subsequent chapters. That is, as zeal for his Father’s house “consumed” Jesus at the onset of his ministry, so will it do once more at the culmination of that ministry. This hypothesis, itself, develops along two trajectories. One, less relevant here, is that the temple for which Jesus will have “consuming zeal” is the indwelling of the Father and Son in the believer through the Spirit. This turns on the observation that the
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“Father’s house” (τὸν οἶκον τοῦ πατρός μου) which Jesus purges at John 2 appears in metaphorized form at John 14:1-2 (έν τῇ οἰκίᾷ τοῦ πατρός μου) as the place with “many rooms” (μοναὶ πολλαί) which Jesus will prepare for his disciples through his death and Resurrection. The use of “room” (μονήν) again at John 14:23 to describe the Father and Son “coming” to the believer, as well as the idea that Jesus’ “coming” occurs through the advent of the Paraclete,84 suggest that between John 2 and the Farewell Discourse the institution of “Temple” has been transferred from the brick-and-mortar edifice built by Herod to the believing disposition of “spirit and truth” forecasted at John 4:21-24. 85 In light of this development it is proposed that John changed the psalmist’s verb tense at John 2:17 from “zeal . . . has consumed me” to “zeal . . . will consume me” in order to indicate that the ardor by which Jesus purges the Jerusalem Temple at the onset of his ministry will be the same impetus that drives him to “prepare” the Spirit-wrought indwelling of the Godhead in the believer through his Passion and glorification.86 The second trajectory, pertinent here, concerns Jesus’ logion and its explanation at John 2:18-22. Like the first trajectory, it sees Jesus’ Temple act in John 2 as proleptic of metaphorized temple act to occur later in the narrative. But where the first trajectory defined that metaphorized temple as the pneumatic indwelling of the Father and Son in the believer at John 14:1-2, this second one sees it as the “sanctuary” (ναός) of Jesus’ body raised at his Resurrection according to John 2:19-21: “Jesus answered and said to them, ‘Destroy this sanctuary and in three days I will raise it.’ . . . But he was speaking about the sanctuary of his body.” In a way similar to the first trajectory, then, it is proposed that John changed the psalmist’s verb tense from “zeal . . . has consumed me” to “zeal . . . will consume me” in order to indicate that the ardor by which Jesus purges the Temple in Jerusalem will be the same fervor by which he raises his own body from the dead.87 In such light John’s placement of the question about Jesus’ legitimacy directly after the Temple act can be readily seen to serve his literary and theological purposes in the narrative. The verb in the quotation which closes the Temple act is altered to suggest that Jesus’ disposition in committing that act will drive him to perform a similar deed later in the Gospel, and Jesus’ logion about the sanctuary of his body, which immediately follows, defines that deed as his self-Resurrection. Literarily and theologically John is declaring that the “zeal” which “consumed” Jesus to purge the Temple in Jerusalem at John 2 “will consume” him again to raise the sanctuary of his body from the dead at John 20. This implies that the differing placements of the two pericopes in John and the Synoptics are due to Johannine rather than (or at least as well as) Markan redaction and, as such, that this divergence from the Synoptics—no less than the ones treated above—reflects Johannine interests.
The Temple cleansing and the entry into Jerusalem An Inclusio As for the peculiar features in the first pericope (Jesus’ act in the Temple), they are best assessed through the lens of a literary relationship that exists between the full Temple cleansing episode at John 2:13-22 and Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem at John 12:12-16. It has already been noted that these passages share the only three references to the
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disciples “remembering” (ἐμνήσθησαν) in the Fourth Gospel. To this may be added a resonance that occurs between Jesus’ allusion to Zech 14:21 at John 2:16 and other elements in John 12:12-16. Zech 14:21 closes a description of eschatological judgment on Jerusalem which (inter alia) includes two motifs: Yahweh establishing himself as king “over all the earth” and the nations being pressed to make annual pilgrimage to worship Yahweh on Sukkot: And the Lord will become king over all the earth; on that day the Lord will be one, and his name one. . . . And anyone who remains among all the nations that come against Jerusalem shall go up year by year to worship the king, the Lord of hosts, and to celebrate the festival of Sukkot. And if it happens that any among the clans of the earth do not go up to Jerusalem to worship the king, the Lord of hosts, there will be no rain upon them. And if the clan of Egypt does not go up and does not come, then upon it shall come the plague with which the Lord strikes the nations that do not go up to celebrate the festival of Sukkot. Such shall be the penalty for Egypt and the penalty for all the nations that do not go up to celebrate the festival of Sukkot.88
Both these motifs, kingship and Sukkot, are distinctive features of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem at John 12:12-16; and, as such, they suggest a thematic connection with John 2:16 alongside the linguistic link made by the “remembrance” formulae at John 2:17, 22 and John 12:16. They are readily seen at two places in the passage: the quotation of Zech 9:9, which proclaims, “Behold your king is coming, sitting upon the colt of a donkey,” and in the quotation from Ps 118, which would have been recited during Sukkot.89 In themselves, however, these elements do not signal a deliberate or unique echo of Zech 14: Hallel psalms, of which Ps 118 is part, would have been rehearsed at all three haggim, not just Sukkot, and Zech 9:9 is as much a part of the Matthean entry scene as it is the Johannine.90 More telling, though, are two further items in the passage: the epithet “King of Israel,” inserted into the quotation of Ps 118:25-26, and the “palm branches” with which the crowd greets Jesus. Unlike Matthew and Mark (but similar to Luke) John replaces Ps 118:26 with the title “King of Israel” in his quotation of Ps 118:25-26: “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord, the King of Israel.”91 And unlike all three Synoptics John has the crowd greet Jesus with one of the “four kinds” of ritual flora prescribed in Leviticus for observance of Sukkot. Where Matthew has the people do this by cutting generic “branches from the trees” (κλάδους ἀπὸ τῶν δένδρων)92 and Mark similarly has them do so by cutting “rushes . . . from the fields” (στιβάδας . . . ἐκ τῶν ἀγρῶν),93 John has them taking “palm branches” (τὰ βαΐα τῶν φοινίκων) as they go out to receive him—one of the flora listed in Lev 23:40-41. The next day a great crowd, having come to the feast and having heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, took palm branches (τὰ βαΐα τῶν φοινίκων) and went out to meet him. . . .94 And on the first day you shall take the ripe fruit of a tree, palm brushes (κάλλυνθρα φοινίκων), thick branches of a willow tree and branches of a chaste tree from a channel, to rejoice before the Lord your God seven days of the year.95
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Since these two motifs are key features of Zech 14, to which Jesus alludes in John’s Temple cleansing incident, they suggest a thematic link between John 2:13-22 and John 12:1216, running alongside the linguistic and theological one forged by the “remembrance” formulae. This, in turn, suggests some type of literary relationship between them. One such relationship is epanalepsis. Strictly speaking, epanalepsis is “the repetition of the beginning at the end”;96 but, while that dynamic may operate at the micro level of clause or sentence,97 it may also do so at the macro level of passage or complete work (as do the terms and themes in question here), in which case the usual designation is the Latin inclusio.98 Inclusios or epanalepses generally operate through some type of interaction between their opening and concluding components, and they have been observed to do this in several different ways: creating symmetry, bringing closure, evoking emotion, lending emphasis.99 Their role in any given text, however, seems ultimately to reside with the authorial intention and broader context of that text and, as such, is best discovered through case-by-case exegesis. Since the components in question here occur at the onset (John 2) and culmination (John 12) of Jesus’ public ministry, their function might aptly be conceived as the second option listed above, “bringing closure”: for the “remembrance” formulae, it may signify that the Spiritwrought recollection which the disciples received upon Jesus’ glorification shed scriptural light on the gamut of Jesus’ public life; for the eschatological allusions to Zech 14, it may indicate that the enthronement which Jesus claimed while entering Jerusalem at the end of his ministry was anticipated when he rid the Temple of livestock, vendors and money-changers at the beginning of that ministry.
A putative tradition? Further, however, it is arguable that at one point in John’s tradition, or composition history these two passages were juxtaposed. That is (more precisely), that John 2:13-22 followed directly on John 12:12-16, unfolding in a sequence of three pericopes: Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem (John 12:12-16), his cleansing of the Temple (John 2:13-17) and his defense of his authority (John 2:18-22). The prospect was seriously considered by Raymond Brown. Commenting on the disciples’ “remembrance” of Ps 118:25-26 and Zech 9:9 at John 12:16, he wrote: In xii 16 we are told that this theological insight was not gained at the time of the entry, but only after the resurrection. It is interesting that in ii 22 we have a similar statement pertaining to the cleansing of the Temple and Jesus’ identification of his body as the temple. Is this repetition an echo of the fact that these two scenes were once joined in John even as they are in the Synoptics?100
The possibility was picked up more forcefully by Barnabas Lindars101 and is buttressed further by the factors observed here. The three references to the disciples’ “remembrance” in John 2:13-22 and John 12:12-16 are the only ones of their kind in the Gospel; and Jesus’ allusion to the “house of merchandise” at John 2:16 resonates with similar allusions to kingship and Sukkot in John 12:12-16. Moreover, when these two passages are adjoined, as suggested here, they create a triptych of “remembered” scriptural fulfillments which further implies literary design. At John 12:16 the disciples “remember” (ἐμνήσθησαν) Jesus’ fulfillment of Ps 118:25-26 and Zech 9:9
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at his entrance into Jerusalem; at John 2:17 (which would immediately follow) they “remember” (ἐμνήσθησαν) his fulfillment of Ps 69:10a at his cleansing of the Temple; and at John 2:22 they “remember” (ἐμνήσθησαν) his fulfillment of “scripture” (perhaps Ps 69:10a) and his own self-predicted Resurrection—all after his glorification.102 Jesus’ Entry into Jerusalem and Temple Cleansing (John 12:12-16 / John 2:14-22) Episode
Synthesis
Quotations
Entry into The next day a great crowd, having come to the feast Jerusalem, and having heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, John 12:12-16 took palm branches and went out to meet him. And they were crying out, “Hosanna! Ps 118:25-26 Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord, the King of Israel.” And Jesus, having found a young donkey, sat upon it, as it is written, “Fear not, daughter of Zion. Zech 9:9 Behold your king is coming, sitting upon the colt of a donkey.” His disciples did not recognize these things at first; but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered (ἐμνήσθησαν) that these things had been written about him and that they did these things to him. Cleansing And in the Temple he found those who were selling of the Temple, oxen, sheep and pigeons, and the money-changers John 2:14-17 sitting. And having made a whip of cords, he cast them all out of the Temple, the sheep and oxen, and he poured out the coinage and overturned the tables of the money-changers. And to those selling the pigeons he said, “Take these things hence; do not make my Father’s house a house of merchandise.” Legitimation of Jesus’ actions, John 2:18-22
His disciples remembered (ἐμνήσθησαν) that it is written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.” Ps 69:10 The Jews then said to him, “What sign do you show us, that you do these things?” Jesus answered and said to them, “Destroy this sanctuary, and in three days I will raise it.” The Jews said to him, “This sanctuary was built over forty-six years, and will you raise it in three days?” But he was speaking about the sanctuary of his body. When therefore he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered (ἐμνήσθησαν) that he was saying this; and they believed the scripture and the word which Jesus spoke.
From these factors the following might be concluded:
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1. Jesus’ Temple cleansing and entry into Jerusalem share (a) references to the disciples’ “remembering” that reverberate with Johannine pneumatology and (b) allusions to Zechariah 14 that do the same with Johannine eschatology. 2. The placement of these episodes in the current form of the text creates an inclusio around Jesus’ public ministry, wherein certain elements in Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem “bring closure” to counterparts introduced in Jesus’ cleansing of the Temple: specifically, they connote that (a) the Spirit-wrought recollection received by the disciples upon Jesus’ glorification shed light on the gamut of Jesus’ public life; and that (b) the eschatological enthronement claimed by Jesus at the climax of his public ministry was anticipated when he routed the Temple of livestock, vendors and money-changers at the onset of that ministry. 3. And the triptych of “remembrance” formulae that would be created if these two episodes were juxtaposed lends further support to the hypothesis that in a putative, earlier tradition they were of a piece.
Placement and independence This literary relationship between John 2:13-22 and John 12:12-16 carries implications by which the remaining features of John’s Temple cleansing can now be assessed. Two of them follow from the prospect that both passages initially existed as a single unit. This is, of course, a speculative enterprise; but the possibilities are worth noting and, so, will be teased out before treating the text as it presently stands. The first implication concerns the placement of the Temple cleansing. As noted above, a major question facing historical inquiry into this incident has to do with the time at which it occurred. The Synoptics set it at the conclusion of Jesus’ public ministry; John, at the beginning. And while most scholars are persuaded that the Synoptics have it right, some are convinced that either John has it right, that both are correct or that both are inaccurate. If the Johannine version of the event originally came on the heels of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, as would be the case were these passages initially juxtaposed, it would support the consensus view in the debate. It can be assumed that Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem would have initially appeared at the end (rather than the beginning) of Jesus’ public ministry, as it is now; and whether the Temple cleansing was juxtaposed to that entry in an earlier edition of the Gospel, then relocated to chapter 2 in a later recension,103 or whether it was split from the entry and placed in chapter 2 at the onset of writing, its position at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry would represent an editorial choice, not an historical awareness. This scenario does not address all arguments waged in favor of John’s placement for the event;104 nor does it by any means establish the Synoptic placement of the incident as fact, for, as Matson has rightly notes, “The Synoptic writers were themselves theologians who shaped the raw material available to their own ends.”105 It does, however, suggest that entertaining the Johannine placement may be a distraction for historiographical work and that the point of departure for the question should be the timing of it found in Matthew, Mark, and Luke. The second implication concerns the independence of the Johannine account. Is John’s Temple cleansing drawn from a tradition unconnected to the Synoptics, thereby
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making it a second attestation to the event? Or has it been hewn from the Synoptics, themselves, or from a source common to both, thereby adding no corroboration to the accounts in Matthew, Mark, and Luke? If such a putative tradition as is being entertained here did exist, two factors point toward the scenario implied in the latter question—that is, that John’s account derives from Synoptic tradition. First, as has in part been argued above (and will continue to be argued below), most of the distinctive features in John’s version of the incident can be ascribed to Johannine Tendenz. That the inquiry into Jesus’ legitimacy is made by “the Jews” rather than by specified Jewish leaders; that their dialogue with Jesus unfolds as double entendre leading to Mißverständnis; that the Jews seek a σημεῖον from Jesus rather than a verbal reference to his authorization; that both pericopes of the episode are closed by “remembrance” formulae invested with the Fourth Gospel’s pneumatology; that the anomalous verb “will consume” in the quotation of Ps 69:10a at John 2:17 accounts for John’s choice to place the Legitimationsfrage immediately after the Temple cleansing; that the eschatological allusion to Zech 14 in Jesus’ directive to pigeon sellers echoes through his entry into Jerusalem;106 and (to be articulated below) that the peculiar elements of the Temple scene, itself, dramatize the two scriptural references that close it, Zech 14:21 and Ps 69:10a—all of these features betray John 2:13-22 to be so replete with Johannine thought and idiom that little is left to ascribe to a non-Synoptic tradition. Second, were this episode to come immediately after Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, it would form a unit of tradition quite like the Synoptic counterparts of these pericopes. As it stands now, John’s version of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem already shows affinities with those counterparts: its employment (like all three Synoptics) of Ps 118:25-26;107 its pairing of that quotation (like Matthew) with Zech 9:9 (albeit in reverse order);108 its reduction of Ps 118:25 (like Matthew and Mark) into “Hosanna.”109 Were that account immediately followed by the Johannine Temple cleansing, the full unit would unfold in a sequence that is also quite similar to the Synoptic narratives: Matt 21:1-27
Mark 11:1-33
Luke 19:28–20:8
Entry into Jerusalem
Entry into Jerusalem Cursing of the fig tree (next day) Cleansing of the Temple Lesson of the fig tree (next day) Question on legitimacy
Entry into Jerusalem Lament over Jerusalem Cleansing of the Temple
Cleansing of Temple Cursing of the fig tree (next day) Question on legitimacy
Question on legitimacy (a later day)
John 12:12-16; 2:14-22 Entry into Jerusalem
Cleansing of the Temple
Question on legitimacy
These factors certainly allow that John might have reworked a source similar to, but independent of, the Synoptic Gospels.110 But, if assessed with Ockham’s razor, they
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are more elegantly explained as reflecting Johannine redaction of either the Synoptics, themselves, or of a source common to them and John. Relative to the Synoptic account of Jesus’ Temple cleansing, this renders John 2:13-22 a derived, not independent, attestation to the event.
The first pericope (John 2:13-17) But whether John 2:13-22 and John 12:12-16 once existed as a single tradition or always circulated as discrete episodes, their current relationship in an inclusio carries further implications for the peculiar features of John’s Temple cleansing. At the very least it demonstrates that the references to Zech 14:21 and Ps 69:10a at John 2:1617 do, indeed, serve the Evangelist’s purposes. It was noted above that some exegetes have ascribed these references to a non-Synoptic tradition, because, while they differ from the references cited in Matthew, Mark, and Luke (Isa 56:7; Jer 7:11), they “do not connect in an obvious way with the author’s own perspective on the event.”111 The inclusio with Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, however, reveals them to play roles in overarching eschatological (Zech 14) and pneumatological (Ps 69) themes that bracket the Book of Signs. And, as such, it assigns them to the Evangelist’s designs and disqualifies them as indicators of an independent testimony to the event. But further, the inclusio also brings most of the distinct details in John’s description of the act itself (John 2:13-15) within the compass of Johannine Tendenz. Those details are typically (and rightly) seen as “dramatizing” devices by exegetes who ascribe John’s Temple cleansing to an independent tradition.112 In fact, however, the very items they dramatize are the two scriptural references at John 2:16-17. The inclusion of “oxen and sheep” in the market,113 the notice of the money-changers’ “coinage” along with their tables, the narrative pause to have Jesus “find” (and, therefore, to underscore the presence of) the vendors and money-changers when he arrives and the concern to depict Jesus casting out the oxen, sheep (and perhaps money-changers and sellers)— all give palpable expression to Jesus’ charge at John 2:16 that these dealers had turned the Temple into Zechariah’s “house of merchandise.” And the detail of having Jesus rout these merchants and their goods by making a “whip of cords” at John 2:15 (while perhaps “called for” by the oxen and sheep)114 graphically displays the Evangelist’s subsequent comment that, by observing him do this, his disciples perceived him to exhibit the “zeal” for his “Father’s house” written in Ps 69:10a.115 Inasmuch as Jesus’ allusion to the “house of merchandise” is part of an eschatological echo of Zech 14 that resonates throughout the other component in this inclusio, and insofar as the Evangelist’s reference to the disciples’ “remembrance” of Ps 69:10a forms part of a pneumatological triptych that (with the “remembrance” at John 2:22) also extends to that later passage, one can infer that most of the distinct features in John’s depiction of Jesus’ act in the Temple are also theologically driven. They are, quite plausibly, narrative creations, designed to dramatize the Johannine eschatology resonating from Zech 14:21 and the Johannine pneumatology resonating from Ps 69:10a.
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Conclusion At the beginning of this chapter it was noted that Paula Fredriksen suspects a nonSynoptic tradition behind John’s Temple cleansing, largely because it seems improbable he would have changed a Synoptic version so considerably. The Synoptics and John, she writes, place the incident at radically different points in their respective stories, and each gives Jesus different lines to speak. For these reasons, I assume their independence. That is, I do not think that John read Mark and then decided to disconnect Mark’s story about Jesus’ action from events in Jesus’ final week, bump the episode forward, change Jesus’ speech—although not Jesus’ point—and then heighten the drama by adding stampeding quadrupeds.116
This study, however, suggests John did just that. Of the fifteen features in John’s account that differ from the Synoptics, some eleven or twelve can be ascribed to Johannine literary idiom or theology;117 and the verbal, as well as thematic, ties that operate between the Temple cleansing episode and Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem suggest the two passages may once have been of a piece, unfolding in Synoptic-like sequence. Such a conclusion does not bar John’s version of the event from having historical value for Jesus Research. As Jan Roskovec notes in his contribution to this symposium, for instance, nothing prohibits John’s Tendenz, itself, from being historically informed— “creative reworking and historical fidelity do not necessarily exclude each other.”118 It does, however, suggest that such value is not to be found in the multiple attestation of an alleged, non-Johannine tradition, which circulated independently of the Synoptics. The distinct features in John’s Temple cleansing are by-and-large Johannine; the episode is quite adequately explained as John’s reworking of a Synoptic source.
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Jesus of Nazareth in the Gospel of John Petr Pokorný
The problem The focus of my investigation is the contribution of the Johannine writings, especially the Gospel according to John, to contemporary Jesus Research. This is the matter of interest with all Early Christian texts and their various theologies. We are interested in them because they are the first witnesses to the impact of Jesus in history. Even the fragmentary references to Jesus in non-Christian texts were written because he was so important for his early followers. And since he had such a surprising influence we must interpret (a) the expressions of his impact and (b) the person of Jesus himself. The Johannine concept of Jesus represents the apex of theological reflection1 within the canonized Christian texts and can be considered a bridge to future Christian dogmatics. The more important concern for our purposes, however, is to ask how it is derived from or influenced by the Jesus of history.
The key role of the earthly Jesus Principally, the earthly Jesus is proclaimed to play the key role in Johannine theology. This can be demonstrated by the hymn in John 1:1-18 in which Jesus is presented and praised as an incarnation of the preexistent Word (logos) of God, the mediator of creation. This is underscored in the opening of the Gospel by the words “in the beginning” (en archē) as in the Septuagint Book of Genesis. It is a bold reflection on the expansive nature and import of Jesus’ existence as deduced from the experience of Christian faith. This motif of Christian theology has its origin in Paul (1 Cor 8:6) and is developed in Col 1:15-16 and Heb 1:1-4. It suggests that Jesus, through his life, revealed the meaning of the universe. He descended (John 3:13) from above (this is in most cultures the key position) to the world (kosmos). He is especially the truth, the life. In his self-revelations (“I am”) he appears like a deity. This is similar to some of the speculations about the Gnostic Heavenly Man (anthrōpos), but it differs from the Gnostic concept by proclaiming that the universe is a creation of the Only God.2
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And yet, at the same time Jesus is an earthly being: “And the Word became flesh (sarx)” (John 1:14); he weeps (11:25), he is troubled and experiences fear (12:27; 13:21 = reinterpretations of the Gethsemane scene), and dies a human death. For the author of the Fourth Gospel, the divine existence of Jesus as Word did not exclude his full humanity. He was not a half-god and a superman (hero). He is one with God through the Spirit (John 1:33-34) and he is a full human being, as the, much later, Chalcedon creed (451 CE) tried to express. The humanity of Jesus plays a principal role in the Fourth Gospel. However, we must ask how much reliable historical information about Jesus the author had at his disposal.
The problem of wonders The dialectical concept of Jesus’ full divinity and full humanity is rather easier to think than to express in a narrative text. Undoubtedly, the Jesus of history as a charismatic human being did extraordinary deeds. In the Gospel of John they are exaggerated, like the raising of Lazarus four days after his death (John 11:17, 39). This ability beyond human capacity prevents a full identification of the Johannine earthly Jesus with the Jesus of history. It is different from the acts of raising of the dead presented in the Synoptic Gospels which are performed only shortly after the individual has died. These miracles could be regarded as resuscitations. The author of the Fourth Gospel obviously used some popular traditions about Jesus as miracle-worker that were unknown to or rejected by the other Gospel writers and reinterpreted them according to his theology. According to this tradition, the naturalistic miracles of Jesus are a revelation of divine truth for humans since miracles are accessible to the human senses (John 20:30-31). The miracles attract attention to Jesus and may become the first step toward faith. This does not correspond to the later dogmatic statement about the incarnation of God’s Son. Incarnation means that Jesus Christ gave up his divine abilities (“emptied himself ”—Phil 2:7), whereas in the Gospel of John the earthly Jesus does extraordinary deeds in order that “fleshly” humans, who are unable to understand the divine truth, may be attracted and subsequently enabled by the Spirit to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God (John 20:31).3 And through him, as the divine Logos, they may recognize the way of salvation. Nevertheless, the miracles, though a means of opening communication with God, are not considered a direct evidence of God. They are called signs (sēmeia) of divine care for humans. The author of the Gospel did not doubt their actuality, but they are only signs as such: for example, the changing of water into wine at Cana (John 2:111) and the feeding of the crowd by bread (John 6:1-15; cf. Mark 6:30-44; 8:1-10 par.) serve as an interpretation of Christian sacral meals and the speech about the bread from Heaven (John 6:22-59) is an expansion of the story about the one bread in the boat (i.e., Jesus as source of life) from Mark 8:14-21. The raising of Lazarus from death is a demonstration of the power of God who “raises the dead and gives them life” (John 5:21),4 representing God’s new creation. That they point toward the divine power becomes obvious when Jesus’ resurrection itself is being attested in the same way. Jesus as the Risen Lord came to meet his disciples and appeared in the house though
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the door was closed (!) and displayed to them his pierced side. Thomas, who earlier expressed his doubts, is exhorted to put his hand into the pierced side of Jesus, but he (obviously without doing it) confesses his faith: “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:28). Jesus says that Thomas believed because he has seen Jesus as crucified and still alive (John 20:29a). This is not a reproach, but rather a statement.5 The sign achieved its aim. It evoked faith. Thomas is a paradigm of the apostle as witness of the Resurrection. The second sentence of the Risen Lord in this scene—“Blessed are those who have not seen and yet came to believe” (20:29b)—refers to later generations whose faith will be based on the apostolic testimony only6 and may perform “greater works” (14:12), probably the pagan mission. Thus, all the paradoxical stories about Jesus’ deeds (erga) are “signs” pointing beyond themselves. They are a means to grasp the truth, a revelation of God descending to the world. They do not intend to describe the life of Jesus. They try to offer an insight into his deeds. It is a risky strategy, since the narrative naturally does have a diachronic dimension, but the Johannine image of Jesus is built upon contemporaneity of his humanity and divinity.
Jesus speaking in parables Another approach of the Evangelist in interpreting the “heavenly” truth (John 3:12) is the use of metaphorical language in Jesus’ speeches. Jesus’ pronouncements in these speeches create the appearance of a divine being claiming authority over all creation. His “I am” proclamations include high Christology (a reflected Christian confession) transposed into the first person. After one of his speeches on the Spirit, Jesus speaks metaphorically about death and Resurrection, as of sorrow that will turn into joy, and calls his speeches parables or allegories (paroimiai—John 16:25). At the same time, the image of a woman who, in pain, gives birth to a child—obviously alluding to the spiritual birth of Jesus’ followers—repeats the theme that was emphasized in the dialogue with Nicodemus (John 3:1-15). The disciples understand that Jesus speaks in images, but they still appreciate when he speaks plainly (parrēsia) in order to mediate better between the world and God, the heavenly Father (16:28-29). This does not mean that they did not understand his words, but they long for a guarantee that the images have a real basis. Nevertheless, in the Johannine literary strategy the speeches of Jesus are intended predominantly for the reader, who, unlike the disciples, from the beginning knows the truth about Jesus as the mediator between the heavens and the earth (John 1:1-18). The speeches of Jesus offer him a deeper insight into the mystery of God’s love descending to the human world.
The testimony7 Another frequently employed term in the Gospel of John is “testimony” (martyria) and “to testify” (matryreō). This denotes a forensic and/or rhetorical category. In the Law (Mosaic and Roman), and in many antique historical documents, two independent
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testimonies confirm the facticity of an event or a thing. But the special function of a testimony concerning personal relations is to confirm the import and significance of what is being testified. The witness guarantees such a testimony by his own existence.8 This specific feature of an engaged testimony prevails in the Gospel of John. The key role of Jesus for human salvation is attested by—and witnessed to in—the Scriptures (5:31-40), by his own deeds (5:36), and by God as his Father (5:37; cf. 8:12-20). What appears to the reader or hearer of the Fourth Gospel as a whole is a catalog of testimonies drawn from a network of witnesses of diverse character. Only John the Baptist (5:31-32) is a witness that can be verified as an historical personage, that is, by Mark and Flavius Josephus. The categories “signs,” “parables,” and “testimonies” often overlap (e.g., a sign can be a parable) and suggest to the reader that the Fourth Gospel is predominantly interested in expressing the meaning of what happened through the life story of Jesus. Through analogies and interrelated “signs” the text of the Gospel points toward God as revealed through Jesus as his Word (John 1:18). The knowledge of God (expressed repeatedly through the verb ginōskō) is evoked by the related events and its content is Jesus as an earthly man (sarx) in his unity with God as Father.9 It does not mean that through his intervention humans would be removed from this world as it is, for example, in the Valentinian Gospel of Truth (NHC I 17:15-21) in which the world is an error (planē). In the Gospel of John the world is God’s creation (John 1:3) and through the mission of Jesus its destiny is being fulfilled: it is the realm in which God’s glory (doxa) can be discovered (theatrum gloriae Dei). The visible traces of the Jesus of history do not play any apparent role here. However, the reader does learn of the Gospel writer’s awareness that his interpretations point toward the Interpreted One, and that Interpreted One is Jesus of Nazareth, a Jewish prophet and teacher from Galilee.
Earthly Jesus in Johannine theology The categories of “sign,” “parable,” and “testimony” attract human attention by rejecting the natural phenomena of the human world (e.g., the reanimation of the dead, bread from heaven, testimony from God), while at the same time pointing behind the literary surface to a deeper context, speaking about God and Jesus as his revelation. This is not just any descriptive, “absolute,” language. It is, to express it in the terms of Paul Ricoeur, a “re-descriptive,” or better, “metaphoric” language10 that best expresses the ideas of the Evangelist. This perception does not seem to help us in our quest for the historical Jesus. But still the fact that in the Gospel of John the metaphorical (or more generally “symbolic”) language is explicitly denoted as such, invites the reader and hearer to distinguish the expressions of meaning from the fact or event to which they relate.11 In the Fourth Gospel the spatial categories of the heavens and the world overshadow the concrete person of Jesus. But still, we must realize that what is surprising here is the fact that it was Jesus of Nazareth who remained the key person in this mythical project. The exaggerated stories of the Fourth Gospel about Jesus’ miracles and his speaking as a divine being underscore the role of a single man from Galilee, a remote Roman
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province. This is a shocking testimony about his pre- and post-Easter impact on his disciples and on those who “have not seen and yet have come to believe.” As we have demonstrated, the author of the Fourth Gospel has developed several literary strategies to emphasize and interpret the role of Jesus. Some of them relativize diachronic time and complicate issues of orientation in history (realizing eschatology: for example, John 5:25). This may be a handicap in understanding the Fourth Gospel. However, the various interpretations all stressed the import of the one who is the protagonist of all the stories. His story, with its chronological narrative form, is the essential frame of all the interpretations. The striking hint toward the Jesus of history in the Gospel of John is the fact that Jesus as a mortal human being (who is at the same time the revelation of God)—in spite of all the peculiarities of the Johannine concept of time—is linked with a particular time and place in history—his kairos. The structure of the Fourth Gospel respects the time and the diachronic structure of the life of Jesus of Nazareth. This means that Jesus’ presence in faith and in Spirit is inseparably bound up with memory and remembrance: “The Holy Spirit . . . will remind you of all that I have said to you”; John 14:26; cf. 12:16). Here the role of the Spirit is stressed, but at the same time limited: the Spirit is not entitled to proclaim any new teaching or revelation. He mediates between Jesus, the incarnated Word of God, on one side and humans on the other (John 16:13). This insight does not mean that the Fourth Gospel conserved the ipsissima verba of Jesus, it indicates only that God’s decisive revelation is limited to the time of Jesus12 and that all the content of the Gospel of John as a literary work is an attempt to interpret the intention of the earthly Jesus who is the “exegesis” of the invisible God (John 1:18). Some stories, like the meeting and conversation with the women of Samaria (4:1-42), are entirely the author’s construction. However, they attempt to reproduce the intentions of the historical Jesus. The invitation to keep and recall belongs to every important event in history. And since the critical research of history is the contemporarily qualified means of recall, it functions in the exegesis of the biblical text—a function that has a theological dimension. This is the theological dimension of the critical research of history. It is, at the same time, a fully secular and a “holy” work.
Jesus of Nazareth: Fragments of historical evidence Since the Gospel writer concentrated on interpretation, he preserved the evidence of the Jesus of history only in fragments, scattered in the flow of his figurative narrative. But the fact that he obviously did know the Gospel of Mark, some of the oral sources of the other Synoptic Gospels, and in several cases he even quoted another tradition or version, supports the conclusion that he (a) indeed had access to some other independent older traditions13 and (b) that in some cases he considered his special traditions more valuable than those from the Synoptic Gospels. This fact as such does not mean that such traditions are historically more valuable,14 but still in some cases it can be demonstrated by means of critical exegesis. The results mostly concern secondary problems of Jesus Research, so that to speak of a “Fourth Quest”15
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is hyperbole. Nevertheless, it is not an insignificant chapter of Jesus Research and the article by James H. Charlesworth in the Journal for the Study of the Historical Jesus is not only a program for future research, but also a review of the results already reached.16 I pick only some of them to illustrate the situation. It is interesting that the Gospel of John mentions several visits of Jesus to Jerusalem linked with Jewish feasts as they follow in the year (2:13-15; 5:1; 7:10; 10:22; 12:12). In this way the author upset the geographical structure of the Markan portrayal of Jesus’ story (activity in Galilee, passion in Jerusalem) that he must have known. At the same time this dating shortens the estimated duration of Jesus’ public activity to about thirteen months from spring 29 CE (John 2:13 Passover) till Easter 30 CE.17 Thomas Knöppler recognizes many hapax legomena in the story about the cleansing of the Temple (John 2:14-16). Perhaps this discovery provides support for an argument in favor of the pre-Johannine origin of this tradition.18 The dating of the Friday of Jesus’ death to the first day of Passover (John 19:31) is important. It is the day on which the Easter lambs were sacrificed. However, according to Mark, he died on the second day and the first day he ate the lamb with his disciples. Both datings could be motivated theologically, the Johannine one by identifying Jesus with the Easter lamb, the Synoptic one by transforming the Easter meal into the foundation of the Christian Eucharist.19 H. Förster20 stresses the role of the Samaritans in the Gospel of John and, by analysis of John 4:5, demonstrates that the Samaritans are considered as descendants of Jacob through Joseph (John 4:5), that is, as Jews. This corroborates the Matthean information and the common exegetical opinion that Jesus, as a prophet and teacher, intended to reform Israel and that his mission was centripetal, that is, limited to Israel (Matt 10:56) and oriented toward preparing it for the eschatological pilgrimage of nations to Zion (Matt 8:11). The previous reflections disclose fragments of a possible Johannine contribution to Jesus Research. There are however two theologically important motifs in the Fourth Gospel which are of special import for Jesus Research—(a) the stories linked with the name of Jesus of Nazareth, the Galilean, which appear at key points in the Gospel, and (b) the problem of Jesus and John the Baptist.
Jesus of Nazareth The key text with which we may open this decisive portion of our contribution is the arrest of Jesus in John 18:3-11. The important role of Jesus’ self-revelations, opening with the “I am. . . .” statement is generally acknowledged: the Messiah (4:25-26), the bread of life (6:35, 41, 48, 51), the light of the world (8:12; 9:5), the gate for the sheep (10:7, 9), the good shepherd (10:11, 14), the Resurrection and the life (11:25), the way, the truth, and the life (14:6), and the true vine (15:1, 5). Yet these “I am” statements have their climax in the thrice repeated “I am” confirming the Revealer’s identification with Jesus of Nazareth when he was arrested. Many commentaries consider it differently: a formal confirmation of personal and not a self-revelation. However, in the Johannine project this is obviously the key to all the preceding “I am” statements.21 Who is the
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Messiah and what does he intend? Who is the bread of life, the light of the world, and so on? This was revealed through the life and story of Jesus of Nazareth. Here is the explicit key to the Christology of the Fourth Gospel, the link between earth and heaven: in the presence of many witnesses Jesus confirms his identity as Jesus of Nazareth.22 The fact that those who came to arrest Jesus stepped back after his “I am” and fell to the ground (John 18:6) indicates the impact of this word.23 For us it means, first of all, that the incarnation in the flesh (sarx) proclaimed in John 1:14 relates to a person of history, a concrete Jesus from Galilee. The second conclusion concerns methodology: since Nazareth and Galilee are markers of Jesus’ earthly identity, the narratives in which they appear may belong to the memory of the Jesus of history. These are, of course, memories from a selected piece of tradition, but principally it is a less developed and reflected tradition than the rest of the material used by the Gospel writer. Therefore, in the future experts should go through the text of the Fourth Gospel looking for references and allusions to “Nazareth” and “Galilee” and their context.
The story of Jesus of Nazareth In John 1:45-46, Philip speaks about Jesus, the son of Joseph from Nazareth as the One “about whom Moses in the Law and also the Prophets wrote.” And Nathanael expresses his doubts: “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” However, Jesus calls him a true Israelite, “in whom there is no deceit” (1:47) and after a short dialogue Nathanael calls Jesus “the Son of God” and “King of Israel” (1:49). This short story demonstrates several things: (a) that faith in Jesus originates from personal encounter, in which Nathanael recognizes Jesus’ divine mission and Jesus reveals himself as mediator between heaven and earth (4:51). The context of our story also confirms (b) Jesus’ true identity is “Jesus [the] son of Joseph from Nazareth” (1:45), or, more briefly, “Jesus of Nazareth” (18:5, 7; 19:19).24 As such he was known in his setting, even by those who did not believe in him. (c) No messianic hopes, promises, or expectation were linked with Nazareth in Galilee, so that Nathanael’s doubts legitimate him as a true Jew. (d) The early Christians and possibly Jesus’ followers expressed already during his life his role against the background of some Jewish expectations (Jesus as King of Israel and Son of God, obviously in the sense of Ps 2:7).25 (e) The Johannine concept of the role of Jesus as mediator between heaven and earth is a new interpretation of those early confessions. The related passage in John 7:40-52 opens with a dispute concerning the messianic hopes (the expectation of the promised prophet26 or Messiah) and ends with the statement of Jesus’ adversaries according to which no prophet is to arise from Galilee.27 Such opinion is expressed also by some people from the crowd who heard Jesus’ words (7:41b-42). Their argument is that the Messiah should come from Bethlehem, the village (!) of David (cf. 2 Sam 7:12; Mic 5:2). Jesus does not declare this to be a false statement. Earlier commentators considered it indicative of a Jesus’ irony. He knew that he was born in Bethlehem, but since his divine origin was decisive for understanding his mission, he did not polemicize28 and reacts by a further self-revelation: he is the light of the world (8:12-20).29
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One argument of these exegetes is that in the Fourth Gospel the testimony of Scripture is decisive and that even Nathanael was praised by Jesus as one who knew that the Messiah had to originate from Bethlehem.30 Such an argument ignores the fact that the Johannine Jesus has his own way of interpreting Scriptures: “You search (eraunate)31 the Scriptures because you think (dokeite) that in them you have eternal life; but it is they that testify on my behalf ” (5:39). According to this saying not every search of Scripture leads to Jesus. Moreover, Jesus, since he represents the heavenly Father, is not bound by individual commandments of the Law; he gives his authentic interpretation of Law. When his adversaries objected to his healing on the Sabbath, he replied: “My Father is still working, and I also am working” (5:17). His origin in God is decisive, and his “I am” confirms the question about his earthly identity. Further, it is not in the Scriptures that there is eternal life, but in Jesus of Nazareth,32 who represents God himself. Already in the first chapter we read a saying which defines the hierarchy of values: “The Law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth Jesus Christ” (1:17). Later Philip says to Nathanael: “We have found him about whom Moses in the Law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth” (1:45). Obviously, the prophets did not write about Jesus of Nazareth. “John” may have Deut 18:15-18 in mind. But principally, all the prophecies of the Scripture which speak about the Messiah, or a similar figure that represents the hope of Israel, are here considered to refer to Jesus of Nazareth. To “believe in his [Jesus’] name” (John 2:23) and to believe the Scripture (John 2:22) obviously means to believe that Jesus of Nazareth is the Messiah and the way, the truth, and the life. The contemporary commentaries, from the last fifty years, mostly suppose that the author of the Fourth Gospel knew the tradition about Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem. However, theologically considered, it is not significant compared to Jesus’ origin with God.33 As to the historical value of this information concerning Jesus, only a few commentators dare to draw the conclusion that John 7:40-44 is a serious argument against the validity of the tradition about Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem, which is questioned already in Mark 12:35-37. We have mentioned that “John” did know earlier traditions about Jesus, and that, according to them, the Messiah, from the earliest Christian confessions, was Jesus of Nazareth. The birth of the Messiah in Bethlehem is a postulate of his adversaries. The Gospel writer may have known the legends about Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem, but in 7:40-44 he distances himself from them.34 The exegesis of John 7:40-44 is closely linked with the interpretation of John 6:4144. The “Jews,” who obviously well understood the messianic content of his metaphoric speeches, question whether his authority is given by God himself by pointing out his father and mother, since they know them. This is in their eyes an argument against his divine origin. Jesus does not disprove their arguments but speaks about his heavenly Father who teaches humanity and can evoke faith. The literary structure of the polemic is similar to John 7:40-44: Jesus is being attacked with information questioning his messianic mission. These facts are obviously correct, since Jesus explicitly confirmed his identity as Jesus of Nazareth who at the same time is the Savior of (other) humans (John 18:4-9: “I am . . . if you are looking for me, let these men go”). To suppose that he knew about his virgin birth but ironically did not use it as an argument against
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his adversaries cannot save the historicity of that teaching.35 If the Gospel writer knew it and still did not use it in the dispute, it would mean that for him these facts were insignificant. According to Irenaeus of Lyon (Haer. 3.11.1), the Fourth Gospel was written against the Gnostic teacher Cerinthus who argued against the divine origin of Jesus by mentioning his human origin (1.26.1). Since Cerinthus was teaching in Ephesus (1.3.4), where the Gospel of John in its preserved version may have originated, it is possible that “John’s” theology was intended to cope with him36 or, more probably, with opponents whose argument Cerinthus took over.37 Jesus’ birth from a virgin and in Bethlehem are narratives with theological, spiritual, and literary impact and value, however, they are interpretations expressing the role of Jesus of Nazareth from the point of view of Easter experience. We have to be aware of this fact in order that we may appreciate their contribution for forming Christian piety. As soon as we would consider them as information about history we miss their intention. “John” may have known them, but he did not reproduce them. The Apostle Paul, Mark, the Gospel writer of John, and his predecessors in authorship of texts that later were incorporated into the New Testament documents, did not know them. Obviously, the older traditions that the author of the Fourth Gospel had at his disposal did not know these legends either. They spread quickly, at least as quickly as the Gospel of Mark, since both the authors of the Gospel of Luke and Matthew used them together with Mark as sources for the biographies of Jesus. They are the literary Gospels, each in its own way. Luke employed two separate stories (chapters 1 and 2). Matthew produced a literary unit opening his Gospel. Luke brought Jesus to Bethlehem on the occasion of the census. Matthew reconciled the Bethlehem story with the fact that Jesus was from Nazareth by having him run away because of Herod: from Bethlehem to Egypt and from Egypt to Nazareth. “John,” who wrote the Gospel in its received shape, later than both Matthew and Luke, must have at least heard about it, but their presentation of the messianic profile of Jesus was alien to him. He, decently, rejected it by putting it into the mouth of Jesus’ adversaries. It is very possible that in this way he tried to build a social identity for his community as separated from the emerging mainstream church. And it is a testament to the freedom of faith of the mainstream church that later included the Gospel of John within its canon. John’s theological rejection of the legends about Jesus’ birth may be, among other factors, motivated by his knowledge about their later appearance.
Jesus of Nazareth as the crucified Messiah and Savior of the world Until now we focused on the role of the name “Jesus of Nazareth” in the text segments preceding the final “I am” of Jesus in chapter 18. Now we will discuss John 19:19 in which the name occurs for the last time. It is the inscription on the cross (lat. titulus): “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews” (John 19:19).38 Taken out of context, it could confirm the confession of Nathanael of Jesus as the King of Israel (1:49). However, here it indicates the crime for which Jesus of Nazareth was sentenced and the inscription is
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a part of a mockery (cf. John 19:3). It marked the Christian culture through portrayals of Iesus crucifixus including the initial letters of the Latin version: INRI. According to John 19:21, the chief priests demanded Pilate change the inscription and write that Jesus said “I am the King of Jews,” but Pilate as representative of Roman power insisted on his decision: “What I have written I have written.” The inscription, mentioned already in Mark (“King of Jews” 15:26), is obviously authentic, since Jesus’ followers had no reason to invent it. However, the scene as such is most probably a construct of the author or editor of the Gospel: Jesus enters Jerusalem as the expected king (John 12:12-15)39 and Pilate unconsciously expresses the truth which he himself had queried (18:38): The inscription in three languages— Hebrew, Latin, and Greek—proclaims Jesus’ messianic identity to the whole world. Hebrew was the language of the Scriptures, Latin of the Roman Empire, and Greek the lingua franca of the Mediterranean civilization. Jesus on the cross is paradoxically demonstrated as “the Savior of the world” (John 4:42).40 What the Fourth Gospel offers in addition to this is the preceding dialogue between Pilate and Jesus in John 18:33-38. Pilate interrogates him about his kingship and Jesus declares that his Kingdom is not of this world, but later (19:11). He informs Pilate that his (Pilate’s) power has been given to him “from above,” that is, that Pilate performs his office within the ultimate sphere of the Kingdom of Jesus. Obviously, what is discussed here is the relation of the Kingdom of God that Jesus proclaimed41 to the representatives of power in the world (kosmos). The earthly power is not identical with the Kingdom of Jesus. Its autonomy is relative, and the rulers are responsible to the only God, whose Word is Jesus. Attitudes toward interactions with the earthly political power were some of the main problems that Jesus had to cope with. His saying concerning the tribute to Caesar was obviously an important part of his teaching. It is attested in Mark 12:13-17 and taken over by Matthew and Luke, by the Gospel of Thomas in logion 100, in Justin 1 Apol. 17, 2 and in a changed version also in P.Egerton (frag. 2r) 11, 14. The Pauline expositions concerning relations to the governing authorities, including the problem of taxes (Rom 13:1-7; cf. Titus 3:1-2 or 1 Pet 2:13-17), develops the same tradition, which is rooted in Jesus’ life. The Gospel of John elaborates it through dialogue, but the intention is essentially the same. It is not difficult to deduce what has been preserved. First, it is the fact that Jesus, during his public activity, attracted the attention of people as a possible political Messiah and that this was the likely cause of his arrest and crucifixion. That the members of the Temple hierarchy were also against him and were involved in the charge follows from their necessary cooperation with Roman authorities as regents of the autonomous territory of the Temple. Second, a key facet of the record is that Jesus refused the role of a political Messiah and coped with this temptation all the time of his public activity. And third, he was simultaneously convinced concerning a particular, intimate relation of God’s rule to earthly power. God is neither the patron nor the opposer of the earthly rulers; he is the Judge of them. This was a considerably demanding attitude, complex both existentially and intellectually. Most of the religious groups of that time, especially the emerging mystery religions, avoided any reflection on social problems and political power. For Paul, respecting the earthly authorities—a secular activity—is at the same time a part of “living sacrifice” and “spiritual worship,”42
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a means of transforming the world. Respect for the authorities was both derived from and limited by the “fear of God”—the Judge of earthly rules. The Johannine group, or school, did not develop direct political activities. It was a limited group. But it preserved the tradition about the indirect political impact of Jesus’ teaching and preaching, which is particular to the Hebrew and Christian religions. Profiled religious groups in the Gospel are portrayed mostly as holding simple views. The spiritual piety of the Johannine group would fit a dualistic solution. And the fact that the Fourth Gospel presents such a complex view of Jesus’ relation toward political power supports the conclusion that what is being interpreted is the heritage of Jesus himself. It was a consequence of his teaching about the Kingdom of God. This is an important contribution of the Fourth Gospel to our contemporary Jesus Research. It is more important than, for instance, confirming or disconfirming his multiple visits to Jerusalem.
Jesus and John the Baptist43 The Johannine depiction of Jesus’ relation to John the Baptizer is consequential for interpretation of Jesus’ intentions. On the one hand, “John” refers to the baptism of Jesus by the Baptizer very indirectly, proclaiming him the Son of God (John 1:29-34). On the other hand, we read that Jesus baptized together with John (3:22-24), but later he parted from him and went to Galilee. This confirms what could be indirectly deduced from the Synoptic Gospels: Jesus was a disciple of John the Baptist, the prophet, and reformer of Israel, but after a time of cooperation he separated from him.44 The cause was obviously a shift of emphasis in his teaching. John tried to reform Israel and amend individual humans by reminding them of the coming Judgment of God. Jesus, rather, stressed the Gospel of the Kingdom of God. This follows also from the source Q (Luke 7:31-35: Matt 11:16-19): John the Baptizer and the Son of Man are on the same level, on the same side, but differ with respect to why the people reproach them. For John it is for his asceticism, reminding them of the wrath of God. For Jesus it is for the joy in anticipation of the meal in the Kingdom of God. In Q (Luke 7:31-32 / Matt 11:16-17) it is weeping for John and dancing for Jesus. We have to interpret the joyous proclamation of Jesus against the background of the message of the dour John the Baptizer in order to recognize its specific features as Gospel in the fullest sense.
Part Five
Summaries of Symposium Discussions
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Allison, Anderson, Culpepper, and Attridge: Discussion of Papers I Nathan C. Johnson and Maurice J. P. O’Connor
The discussion session, which occurred on the morning of Thursday, March 17, 2016, was devoted to the first four papers given at the symposium: those by Dale C. Allison, Paul N. Anderson, R. Alan Culpepper, and Harry W. Attridge. Dr. Allison’s paper, given the previous evening, on Wednesday, March 16, 2016, considered “Reflections on Matthew, John, and Jesus.” Dr. Anderson presented on “Why the Gospel of John Is Fundamental to Jesus Research.” Dr. Culpepper’s paper was titled, “John 2:20, ‘FortySix Years’: Revisiting J. A. T. Robinson’s Chronology of Jesus’ Ministry.” Dr. Attridge wrapped up the opening session with “Some Methodological Considerations Regarding John, Jesus, and History.” The following description of the conversation attempts to represent a sense of the dialogue through paraphrases of the points made by participants. The discussion was chaired by Dr. George L. Parsenios. U. C. von Wahlde (UCvW) to Harry W. Attridge (HWA): John 4:44 in context is awkward. And further, the anointing by the woman in chapter 12 is awkward (feet are wiped—what is going on here?). The Synoptic account appears to be better. HWA: Perhaps John is distorting the facts for a literary purpose? So, these aren’t interpolations, but literary twists.
UCvW: The Passion Narrative has the dividing of the clothing in the parallelism (19:24; Ps 22:19). This seems to be a misunderstanding of how parallelism works (cf. Matt 21, where Jesus supposedly rides a donkey and a colt). Also, why is Jesus baptizing? This has an awkward relationship to the Synoptics. Why would this be added except to contrast with the Synoptics? HWA: I don’t have a problem with some interpolations in John. But there are places where the baptism is different. Jesus isn’t baptized. This seems to be a correction of the tradition that Jesus is baptized since it is a baptism of repentance. So Jesus baptizes but isn’t baptized—a relationship to the Synoptics that also plays with the traditions (thus showing that John likely
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UCvW: Harry, did you discuss John 6:42? (“And they were saying, ‘Is this not Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, “I have come down from heaven”?’”) HWA: No, I didn’t, but this is an example of ignorance on what is assumed to be physical knowledge. And there’s a theological point being scored that such knowledge (where one is from) is irrelevant in the face of heavenly knowledge in John.
Dennis Zhernokleyev to HWA: There’s a way to push your argument further. There is an instrumental use of irony. Dramatic irony is used in this way. There’s a more universal, metaphysical irony, in the scene of the empty tomb. At the end, irony takes the whole game out. The empty tomb is not a new sign revealed, but at the end the sign game is over. Isn’t John radically apophatic and denying the kataphatic value of the Gospel and historicity? HWA: I think there are ways to interpret irony, but I think some come up short (dramatic irony that is weak). How far to push that I don’t know. Because John does affirm event: the Word became sarx. That’s an event. The word becomes sarx to become Word again. There is apophatic knowledge in John (as in Philo, who says only God’s existence can be known, not his essence, and the names are catachresis, they don’t name him in his essence). John seems to know this apophatic tradition, but this is different than apophaticism in late antiquity. The Thomas episode shows that Jesus is theos and kyrios, though if John knows Philo, then this would have to do not with the essence but with existence.
Paul N. Anderson (PNA) to HWA: Does your work apply to followers of John the Baptist, and for engaging John 6 (i.e., dialogical engagement with Mark)? HWA: I like finding dialogical relationships with Mark, but I think that this is only playing to Mark. John is not just correcting historical records, but is saying that putting your money on the Synoptics is not the way to live your life. PNA: Jesus wasn’t completely rejected up north (as in John), but has some success. . . . Is there implied irony in that the audience of John should know the birth narratives, or are they innocent? HWA: Conversion narratives are a theme here. I thought I was going to defend the Judean origin of Jesus (“He came to his own and his own rejected him” seems to suggest Bethlehem and Judea as origin). But no, John doesn’t even clear this up, but affirms that we can’t know where the Messiah comes from.
R. Alan Culpepper to HWA: Questioning the Judah-Galilee split in the Resurrection appearances in the Synoptics (Mark 16:7 vs. Luke/Matthew), is John rejecting not only the question of the origins of Jesus, but also the question of the origins of the church?
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HWA: John 21 is helped here by this. I hadn’t thought of it. If we end at chapter 20, there’s not much to point to a Galilean origin. Not sure.
Dale C. Allison (DCA) to HWA: Harry you made a tantalizing comment about multiple editions in the first century and how this applies to John. Expand. HWA: “Edition” is a post-Guttenberg way of speaking. We have texts, and there are many layers that are difficult to separate. Some of the layers are done by the same painter’s hand! These texts grow and develop. In the classics world, we have scholars who are aware of this. Some of the ancients even complain about these rolling texts. PNA: John 4:2: Is this really an interpolation, or the author’s way of correcting himself or misperceptions of his narrative?
George L. Parsenios: Work in Progress on Cicero and others look at how they talk about the publication of their works (Pliny, and circulating the text among friends). The friends add on to the text. This is tantalizing for John, but it is difficult to take it further. Craig S. Keener (CSK): Yes, you could even get oral feedback. Did this happen in preaching (as Raymond Brown thought)? HWA: No. Probably more in a salon setting, as with Pliny’s friends.
Lisa M. Bowens to HWA: Can you talk more about conversion as a resetting of origin? And can you talk about this with the Samaritan woman? HWA: All of the encounters between Jesus and his interlocutors are transformative in some ways. She is transformed and becomes a missionary, the first missionary to the Samaritans. Is she functioning at the end of the narrative? Is she functioning in the right way? Does she fully “get” Jesus? It seems like she gets it. She’s not just a simple descendent of Jacob, but a follower of Jesus.
PNA: On the Samaritan, John seems to have familiarity with Matthew (Matt 10:5: “Don’t go into a city of the Samaritans”). Is he pushing back on Matthew? HWA: Could be. Could be pushing back on Luke too. Luke has Jesus going from between these areas, unlike John. There’s a dissertation on the mental map of people in the first century. You could go between Samaria and Judea to get to Jerusalem. Luke has this sort of knowledge, but John’s version is not based on Luke’s mental map—Jesus goes through Samaria to Jerusalem.
James H. Charlesworth (JHC): In the Temple, people accuse Jesus of being a Samaritan and having a demon (John 8:48); he denies the demon, but not being a Samaritan. Is there a Samaritan tradition for Jesus? Jesus was accepted in Samaria, which is strange because he is also accepted in Galilee.
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HWA: Concerning demons, there aren’t any demons in John, none that Jesus casts out. You “have a demon” means you are conceptually wrong on this point (e.g. Judas having Satan). It is not true that Satan really enters Judas, it is that Satan puts it into his heart. John is the rationalist, against Luke, on Judas here. CSK: And “prince of this world” (John 12:31; 14:30; 16:11)? HWA: It is not clear if that is supernatural or natural. Is it like Revelation, where Babylon can be Satan and a world power?
Jan Roskovec: And “cast out” (John 12:31)? HWA: It’s a reinterpretation of exorcism categories, yes, but not an exorcism.
After a brief break for coffee, discussion resumed UCvW to DCA: Can I ask about “being the light of the world”? You saw this as a parallel. This is true. But do you think the ideas are the same? DCA: I think that John was uncomfortable with disciples being the light; Jesus is the light. So John is correcting. UCvW: I think they are verbally similar but on the idea level different. DCA: Exactly. UCvW: And the parallel “all authority has been given to me”? In Matthew, the authority is exercised by giving them authority to preach and baptize. In John, authority is for giving eternal life. Verbal similarity, but again, different ideas. DCA: Never thought about that. Daniel 7 is present here (in Matt 28:18), but that doesn’t solve anything . . . . PNA: Matthew and John are different. But the Historical Jesus, maybe he actually taught this. We could have two independent traditions going back to the Historical Jesus. JHC: Virtually all ceramic lamps before 70 CE were made in Jerusalem. This connects to God as “light” in the Temple. PNA: And as in Isaiah, where Israel is a “light” to the nations. Judah being its best self is represented as being a light to the world. HWA: So, we have a connection between “light” in Matthew and in John. John 11:9-10 needs to be in the conversation. There’s a play on light there: “The light is not in him” (John 11:10). Light in Matthew is in the eyes, and “if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light” (Matt 6:22). Jesus is the light in us and outside us in John. So John is playful with the Synoptic sayings. PNA: Those who reject Jesus in John, they are like those in Plato’s allegory of the cave; they don’t want to be exposed. This is true in John 3; John 1 too. “Of-ness,” how does this relate to some perceiving Jesus but not as him being “of ” their own? Is there a dualism of origin and dualism of motivation? HWA: John sets up this “riddle” (riffing on PNA’s work) and resolves it as: What one loves determines where you are from.
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Charlesworth and Parsenios: Discussion of Papers II Brandon L. Allen
The second discussion session of the Symposium occurred on the afternoon of Thursday, March 17, 2016, following papers from James H. Charlesworth and George L. Parsenios. Dr. Charlesworth spoke on the question “Can Archaeology Help Us See Jesus’ Shadows in the Gospel of John?” Dr. Parsenios’ paper dealt with the question “How and in What Ways Does John’s Rhetoric Reflect Jesus’ Rhetoric?” The following description of the conversation attempts to represent the sense of the dialogue through paraphrases of the points made by participants. The session was chaired by Dr. Heath Dewrell. Discussion directly following paper by James H. Charlesworth. Paul N. Anderson (PNA): Thanks so much Jim. I was impressed by your 2000 conference in Jerusalem on “Archaeology and Jesus” and, namely, that over half of the papers presented were from the Gospel of John. While unintentional, it got me to thinking more about details in John, thinking about using John as a historical resource, and how they could align with archaeological and historical features that have more or less been overlooked. Thank you, once again, for your contribution. James H. Charlesworth (JHC): I have to confess it was Jewish scholars who had convinced me of this. They would often say, not being Johannine scholars, and to their benefit, “if you really want to know something about Jerusalem before 70 CE, read John.” They aren’t reading it Christologically or kerygmatically, but historically. So I would urge all of us as professors to read it in every way, be it rhetorically (in terms of humor, irony, riddles, etc.), Christologically, theologically, and historically. For example, the number “38” in John perhaps exists to arrest the reader, but is a detail I wouldn’t call historical. However, John has more architectural detail than even Josephus. He seems to know, as I showed you in another lecture, where Caiaphas’ house is and where Pilate is. I urge you to read the passage again in light of jurisprudence, John’s account cannot be a trial, and there cannot be an interrogation from the High Priest, for he must be in the Temple being purified! Ananus is very powerful, he was the High Priest from
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6-15 CE; now in the thirties, he is a most powerful man, his son-in-law, is Caiaphas, the officiating high priest. Today we all know that we refer to President Clinton as our President, even though he is not currently our President. The same idea applies to President Bush. In the same way, you refer to Ananus as the High Priest, and John gets it right. He says, “Caiaphas was High Priest that year, and the High Priest asked Jesus . . . .” It’s not Caiaphas! It’s the father-in-law, Ananus. The story isn’t confused; we have a seamless story here that makes sense if you know Jewish jurisprudence. John Hoffman (JH): One thing I find difficult to reconcile is that we are talking about two huge mikva’ot, two pools, and if I understand correctly, the worshipper-to-be goes in naked along with a thousand other pilgrims, and I haven’t seen any evidence for a shower curtain or a barrier. JHC: The holes were in one of the images. You have the steps, and in one of the steps you have holes in which tent poles may have been placed. Wealthy persons would go into the tent and change their clothes, go down into the water, and move the tent poles closer to the receding water and bring them back up when needed. JH: There are so many pilgrims though, it seems impractical. I don’t know if there’s an answer to it, I just can’t reconcile two men jumping naked into a pool. JHC: There are three possible explanations: We haven’t found the blindfolds (laughing from the audience), they went in nude, or the third which I prefer, is that they probably put a loincloth on. But remember crucifixion was almost always nude. You cannot say always, but most of the time.
U.C. von Wahlde (UCvW): In the Mishnah, when it talks about what interposes when someone is entering the mikveh, it describes certain kinds of bands, for example on the head, the hair, certain kinds of garments. In those cases, the garment prevents true purification, while other times you can go into the water with a garment on, provided the water has full access to the body. According to the Mishnah. JHC: Well, Cam (UCvW) is one of the authorities on this, accompanying me at Bethzatha and together at Siloam. He’s a confidant in this, knowing things I wish I knew. I love your explanation and your statement at the end is exactly what I would do. Jews have different rules. I would also say, when you go to Herodian Jericho there are many miqva’ot, and perhaps you had to have one for the rigorous legalistic Pharisee and his wife, one for the more apocalyptically oriented Pharisee and for his wife, and the Sadducees would have to have as many as they want and so on and so forth. We can probably add Essenes to the list as well. We have found miqva’ot at Qumran. Since you raised this, I also want to say, I may be wrong, but that when the people in this room go to the bathroom they go into a room that says either “Men” or “Women.” In antiquity, as we know from Beit Shean, males and females sat there together, and you would pull your garment over your head and then use
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the brush. Moreover, I would say today we have a nightmare! I notice this at airports. Women are standing in line to go to the bathroom. Why are they so slow? Men just go in and there’s no line. In antiquity, they solved the problem. They go in together and they go out together. This is where everybody goes. I think that can help us and our sensitivities. And I would say there is a difference between Athens, Alexandria, Jerusalem, Samaria, and other cities.
Discussion directly after paper by George L. Parsenios. PNA: Thank you, George. I like what you are doing on many levels. You point out a flaw in reasoning, for example, that Jesus couldn’t have used more than one form. The fact is Jesus probably didn’t just string aphorisms together for hours on end. He probably had some longer discourses. However, in John’s discourses, you have aphoristic speech. In some of this material, if it weren’t in John and in one of the Synoptics, the Jesus Seminar would probably have said that this is a likely saying of Jesus. For example, Linda Mckinnish Bridges has just written an essay in John, Jesus, and History, Volume 3 that claims that these kinds of sayings would fit what we think the historical Jesus said. In John though, they tend to be included within a larger narrative or discourse as opposed to those one-off kind of sayings. So, that’s just really helpful to look at that. A question about your overall point: if you have the Matthean Jesus who often has the formula, “You have heard it said . . . well I say unto you.” If you have this kind of contrasting, corrective-of-the-religious-authorities kind of Jesus, could you say more about how you see that similar feature, although using different language, in the Gospel of John? I’m trying to apply a corroborative impression of Jesus, who, in both Synoptic and Johannine perspective, is correcting what people think they know is right, yet coming out in different ways. George L. Parsenios (GLP): Yes, the Johannine Jesus corrects people all the time. PNA: Correct. The Allegory of the Cave kind of thing about people who want to stay in the dark and don’t want the falsity of their notions to be exposed. That kind of an aspect. GLP: Right. John 3! They don’t come to me so that they’re not elegxthēsontai. PNA: Exactly. Yes. GLP: Right, well he’s certainly teaching them how to read Scripture in the Bread of Life discourse. It isn’t Moses, but “my Father.” I’m struggling to find anything exactly like the example you gave. In my understanding of John, John knew, read, and for lack of a better word, “riffs” on the Synoptics. When he does so, he does so in a variety of ways and makes creative use of the material. Ray Brown used a wonderful phrase that says John makes explicit where the Synoptics are implicit. This can, of course, be debated, but one of the things you get is that all of Jesus’ life is a trial, with legal language throughout his life in a way that in the Synoptics is not untrue, but when his opponents argue with him they are trying to trip him up. See, for example, when his opponents ask Jesus whether one should pay taxes to Caesar. In the Synoptics they’re trying to trip him up, but in John it’s a trial. It’s a little
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Harry W. Attridge (HWA): Thank you, George. That’s a very helpful distinction to make. A couple of questions angular to what you’re doing. First of all, on voices of the narrator coming and going, what do you make of what’s going on in John 3? GLP: I would call Harry Attridge and ask, “What’s going on in chapter three?”
Laughing from the rest of the audience HWA: Right, we fly from the voice of Jesus speaking to either the voice of Jesus speaking on a different register or something or in the middle of Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus somewhere around fourteen or fifteen . . . . GLP: But in a way that sounds a lot like John the Baptist. HWA: Right. This sometimes seems like the opposite in some ways of what you point out, for example, in Plato or Thucydides—the narrator disappearing. GLP: I’m not sure what that means, but even if that’s what’s happening, we aren’t told that’s what is happening. I guess that’s my point. HWA: So is that of a piece with what you are saying with the disappearing narrator? GLP: I would say so.
HWA: Okay, one other question about the aphorism idea, do you have any particular theory about all the “amen, amen” sayings in John? GLP: Can you be more specific? HWA: Lindars suggests that a lot of these “amen, amen” sayings were in fact old traditional sayings of Jesus which were then reframed by John. GLP: Yeah, it’s slightly modified, but it sounds a little Synoptic too. I would agree. Were you hoping for more? HWA: I was just curious whether you had any particular theory about the “Amen, amen.” GLP: I haven’t thought about it, no. Dale C. Allison: At the beginning of m. Avot, somebody has passed on a bunch of aphorisms from the Rabbis of old (Simeon ben Yochai, etc.). And it struck me, as I was listening to you and trying to recall those aphorisms, they are not paradoxical, most don’t involve word-plays, and it struck me that if you were to look formally at these aphorisms and those in John and the Synoptics, that two of them go together and the others are different sorts of aphorisms. This is off the top of my head, but formally, I think you may be right. That is, we don’t just have aphorisms in both sources, but perhaps they may be structurally or rhetorically very similar, because we have other aphorisms that don’t look like them. GLP to HWA: I suppose that relates to what you said as well when you said it’s “of a piece.”
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JHC: Using my own language, I’m going to make four comments with the first two trying to summarize your point: The intrusive narrator is removed so that we stand before Jesus. Is that what I hear you’re saying? GLP: Yes.
JHC: The second one: The aphoristic Jesus in John contains echoes of the historical Jesus. Correct? GLP: Yes.
JHC: These are the two questions I have then. The first, we find in John and the Synoptics an authoritative Jesus with a very high self-esteem. It’s not only in John. I’m just wondering whether that might be another link. It was David Flusser who startled me when he said that Jesus and Hillel had elephantine egos. I was shocked until I realized they probably should have. I thought about it more [as similar to] when Michael Jordan spoke, and if he says: “I’m a pretty good basketball player,” then he’s not representing what we saw. That was helpful. The fourth, and of course we can find time for a drink and to follow this up, but the confrontational Jesus is not only in John, but in the Synoptics and probably in history. It’s hard to say this in front of people who follow him, but Jesus can be almost horrifically confrontational. He wasn’t such a peaceful, gentle person and we wouldn’t expect him to be, but if he believes himself right, then he has to be confrontational. I’m just curious, would you follow that? GLP: I can only think of something Dale Allison and Joel Marcus write about when they say that Jesus contains within himself all of the poles of human experience, and that makes him a sort of paradoxical figure. The sort of majesty of his divine reality is in the humiliation upon the cross, and all the struggles of the human experience. He contains all of this. But you’re right, a very confrontational figure. JHC: It was the conservative F. F. Bruce who would say to me: “There are horribly hard sayings from this man.” And then Bruce wrote a book on the hard sayings of Jesus. I think if we have our eyes open, have the narrative removed, we won’t find what was there when we were in Kindergarten. Actually, I like the confrontational Jesus when you read more about the Bar Kitros family and others, there was a need for a powerful voice to take on everyone. It cost him, true, but . . . .
Craig S. Keener: This is something also off the top of my head, but I figure if the great Dale Allison can do it, maybe I can try too. I read them at very different times and so I didn’t make the comparisons, but Plato and Xenophon had a symposium and I thought I remembered some parallels between them, but do you know if any scholars have made Synoptic-type comparisons between those to see how much overlap there is between them?
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GLP: You have now goaded me into noting something Schleiermacher said, that Xenophon’s Symposium is equivalent to the Synoptics and Plato’s is to John. I don’t take credit for that, but I’ll let you decide. People have, of course, made comparisons with the life of Socrates. But I am thinking of the commentary on Plato’s Symposium by Kenneth Dover who regularly refers to Xenophon’s Symposium. I cannot think of one right now that makes a connection to the Synoptics though. HWA: Yeah, there are also Symposia that are modeled on one another. PNA: Mark 3. Parables are not given to illustrate the Kingdom, but to separate insiders from outsiders and in Matthew and Luke they nuance it a little bit. In the great discourses in John though, Jesus uses parables to evoke cognitive dissonance. People, even Jesus’ followers, often respond to Jesus with, “Say something clearly!” And one may ask why John’s narrative doesn’t have parables in that form, maybe some of his followers objected to how and what Jesus said in them. GLP: Interesting. Even if it’s not on the subject of parables, certainly Jesus says things that puzzle people, hence the Nicodemus dialogue. I see a psychagogic goal in all this, especially with the Samaritan woman. And that’s another rhetorical exercise. I’m trying not to use the words like “condescension” or “adaptability,” but I think 1 Corinthians 9, “I become all things to all people” is the Johannine Jesus. He talks one way to his opponents, one way to his disciples, and yet another to the Samaritan women early in her understanding. He talks differently to the Jews in chapter 2. This is a sort of psychagogy, I think. And I don’t think it’s unrelated to what you’re talking about with parables. HWA: There’s a recent dissertation in Brill on this point. GLP: Yes, it was written under me, written by Jason Sturdevant. HWA: Ah! Yes, I believe it was “The Adaptable Jesus of the Fourth Gospel: The Pedagogy of the Logos” (Brill, 2016). GLP: I should have cited him, but I simply channeled him! Alright, thank you very much everyone.
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Pokorný, von Wahlde, and Keener: Discussion of Papers III James M. Neumann
The third discussion session of the Symposium occurred on the morning of Friday, March 18, 2016, following papers from Petr Pokorný, Urban C. von Wahlde, and Craig S. Keener. Dr. Pokorný spoke on “Jesus of Nazareth in the Gospel of John.” Dr. von Wahlde shared insights on “The First Edition of John’s Gospel in Light of Archaeology and Contemporary Literature.” Finally, Dr. Keener explored the issue of “Historical Tradition in The Fourth Gospel’s Depiction of the Baptist.” The following description of the conversation attempts to represent a sense of the dialogue largely through paraphrases of the points made by participants. The session was chaired by Dr. Lisa M. Bowens. Paul N. Anderson (PNA): Maurice Casey’s Is John’s Gospel True? argues that John is not true because it is anti-Semitic, and portrays the Jews as enemies of Jesus. How does von Wahlde’s work either challenge or support Casey’s work? Urban C. von Wahlde (UCvW): “In contrast to those who see a subtle blending of divergent views, I think there are two views that are juxtaposed. I believe a good part of the material from the second edition and of 1 John [were] composed under the belief that what the [author(s) was] saying was [under the inspiration] of the Holy Spirit.” So to respond to Casey, what they were saying can be true without being factual. From their perspective, it was true because the Holy Spirit inspired it. They come to a depth of realization that they did not have before. I find that statement in 11:46–48, about some of the people who saw the raising of Lazarus, uses almost the same words (about the Romans wiping out the Temple) as Josephus when he talks about what will happen when the Romans come. But this is very different from the second edition material, containing the statements about “the Jews.” I am not convinced that John is anti-Semitic.
Harold W. Attridge (HWA) to UCvW: “Some of the things fall down along the lines that you described, although I think there are places where the lines are blurrier than
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you suggest.” For example, I refer to the first mention of Ioudaioi in 1:19–28. There is a tension in all of these texts between the geographical and religious senses of Ioudaioi. The Pharisees start out being the opposition, but by the end it’s the Ioudaioi. This seems like an intentional development on John’s part. “I think you’re on to something;” but I do not think the picture is quite right. In some passages the Ioudaioi are clearly Jews in the religious sense, bashing Jesus over the head for religious reasons (not only political). Does John deliberately leave out Narzōraios at the crucifixion? There may be intentional interaction with the Matthean text at this point. Petr Pokorný: I agree with Attridge on the point above. But Jesus is still Jesus of Nazareth in John. Jan Roskovec: Nearly everything in John has two meanings. Ambiguity of what we call historical facts. In the 18th chapter it is the people who come to arrest Jesus who call him Narzōraios. This is similar to John expressing his theology through Caiaphas. UCvW: Let me draw attention to an interesting article on Mary Magdalene by Joan Taylor—she argues that in Luke there are places in which he indicates that some of the names given to people like Peter (or Boanerges) were nicknames. Mary Magdalene is identified in Luke as “Mary who was called Magdalene.” Migdal was a tower, among other towers, used for various things. One of which was to see fish near the shore in Galilee. In that case, is it designating her home town? Probably not. Maybe she was like a tower—in other words, it expresses her character in some way. Narzōraios could be functioning the same way. Expressing a characteristic rather than geography. HWA: I think that John is playing off of the Matthean designation of Jesus that plays off of “Nazer.”
Craig S. Keener: Two questions: 1.) what would happen if one started with different terms? Such as agapaō, ginōskō, oida, etc. 2.) When you have to explain some inconsistencies among the elements in the editions, do you have to explain them as redactional? Some of the elements taken to be from one edition have contextual features that look like they belong to the other edition. How do we explain this? UCvW: In the story of the Samaritan woman: I am of the opinion that there was an original story in which Jesus said to the woman, “You’ve had five husbands,” and she says “Wow . . . I see you are a prophet.” She goes into town and says, “There’s a guy out here who told me everything I ever did,” and they come out to see, and many believed in him. What’s unusual is that at the end you get another crowd, and they say “You are truly the savior of the world.” That’s a very soteriological statement, obviously. And yet there’s been no soteriology in anything before that. One of the issues is soteriology. I believe that second edition was [very] Jewish, and [very] based on soteriology in the Old Testament. In the Old Testament it’s the Holy Spirit that takes away sin. [There are] constant references to being cleansed of sin by the action of the Spirit, and also at Qumran. I think there was a part of the development
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of the Johannine tradition that said, “Jesus was the deliverer of the Spirit,” that’s clear. No other gospel talks about the Spirit during the ministry the way the Gospel of John does. I remember Ray Brown constantly saying there are these two sets of texts where Jesus is saying I’m going away, and [there is] misunderstanding: “Where are you going? The diaspora? Are you going to kill yourself? What’s going on?” And 1 John really is very heavily into Jesus dying for our sins. And I think that’s right and I think 1 John was saying, “This will either amaze you or disgust you.” But that saying in 1 John 5, “He came not in water only but in water and in blood” the water is, I think Community jargon for giving the Holy Spirit. He came to give the Holy Spirit, and there was a group that said “That’s all he did and then he went back to heaven and the Holy Spirit did everything.” It is a very non-Christian interpretation, but it is very Jewish, because everybody was expecting the eschatological outpouring of the Spirit, and when the Spirit came, this is what it was going to do: teach you everything. Notice [in] the Gospel of John, in spite of the emphasis in 1 John on remembering what you heard from the beginning, (not quite true, but Bultmann was headed in the right direction when he said he’s a revealer without a revelation, because the Holy Spirit was going to teach them everything) the Holy Spirit was to so transform the individual that they would never again sin, he would take away sin and would provide for the future where they would not sin again. It has been modified, and rightly so, but by and large, the Gospel of John, aside from the love commandment, has no reference to specific ethical instructions. There is a mimetic ethics, but I think that is from the third edition. Where is that concept most fully developed? [You find it] in 1 John. It is reflected in the Gospel, but it was developed in 1 John and then added to the Gospel. [With respect to the different terms and consistency of language use] I took my cue from Spicq . . . who tried to find consistency and didn’t. But Ioudaioi occurs 46 times, so it’s a good test word.
James H. Charlesworth: “As far as I know, there’s only one place where we have a migdal. We found where the first century port was in Migdal. You couldn’t see any fish from there. It’s not Byzantine, but early Roman. But we think there’s a fist of rock out on the Sea of Galilee where they had a huge fire to warn fishermen not to proceed further south.” Petr [Pokorný] and Cam (UCvW) referred to 5:17. John knows debates in Judaism better than anyone else. In 5:17 he says I am going to work because my Father “continues to work.” It doesn’t make any sense. But in Gen 2:2 in the Hebrew, it says God completed his work on the seventh day; but this is answered in the Septuagint, in which he completes his work on the sixth day and rested on the seventh. There was a debate ongoing about the meaning of the Hebrew. Jesus seems to have known these debates, and 5:17 displays this debate in pre-70 CE Judaism. He works on the Sabbath because God is still working too. UCvW: Going back to yesterday’s discussion: I found a place where they go into the mikva’ot with clothes on. Interesting parallel in the Mishnah’s section on mikva’ot sections 8.5 and 9.5. If you’re wearing clothing that does not allow water in, you’re unclean, but if the clothing is loose enough to let water in, no problem.
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PNA: A comment in support of Dr. Roskovec’s paper. Clement’s statement, which is that the Synoptics are somatica and John is spiritual, was mistranslated in English by McGifford in 1885. He translated somatica “facts.” It’s not “facts,” it’s the “body stuff ” as Jan pointed out. And this led to a misunderstanding of the Gospel of John as not being factual. Body and Spirit is what Clement was saying. We don’t follow Clement’s statement that Matthew was the first of the Gospels, and if you don’t follow him on that, you shouldn’t follow him, as mistranslated, to suggest that John is not factual.
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Roskovec, Daise, and a Developing Consensus: Discussion of Papers IV Jolyon G. R. Pruszinski
This final session of discussion for the Princeton-Prague Symposium occurred on the afternoon of Friday, March 18, 2016. It addressed not only topics related to the final two papers, given by Jan Roskovec: “History in John’s Portrayal of Jesus,” and Michael A. Daise: “Jesus and the Historical Implications of John’s Temple Cleansing,” but dealt most significantly with the overall impressions and insights that developed in response to the whole body of work presented at the symposium. The session was chaired by Dr. C. Clifton Black. The transcript of this final discussion has been edited for clarity. C. Clifton Black (CCB): [Moderating. Extends welcome. Explains procedure. Invites questions.] Professor Attridge. Harry W. Attridge (HWA): Thank you for the two interesting papers. Lots of little questions. I have one question first of all for Craig [Keener]. How does the lamb take away sin? Craig S. Keener (CSK): There are a whole bunch of different views on that and I don’t have a particular one. I think it’s aireō . I think it’s just carrying away sin. It doesn’t really get into some of the things we have in 1 John where you have—I think you have—not hilasterion, is it hilasmos, that you have in 1 John 2? It doesn’t go into that kind of detail. I do see it on the Johannine theological level. I see 1:29 is probably linked with the depiction in John chapter 19 where Jesus is, where I think there is, a pascal lamb. HWA: I think that’s quite right. I think it’s kind of an inclusio isn’t it. But what’s the problem with that? A pascal lamb to take away sin . . . . CSK: Actually it looks like, in Josephus they do use, it does use sacrificial language. Even in the Septuagint of Exodus it does use sacrificial language with regard to the pascal lamb. HWA: But does sacrifice necessarily imply removal of sin? CSK: Not necessarily, no. HWA: This is what I think is strengthening your argument, I think this is definitely a Johannine thing that is thrown out there but I think it is another
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one of these Johannine riddles, because a lamb to take away sin should be the tamid. And you might think during the course of the whole business especially when he’s cleansing the Temple that he is putting himself up as a tamid offering but he doesn’t. At the end of the day he puts himself up as a pascal offering, or the Gospel presents him as such. And is this a kind of conceptual play on how it is that Jesus takes away the sin of the world, not by some kind of sacrificial act, the like of which is envisioned in something like Second Maccabees or even in Isaiah, but as the pascal lamb takes away sin? How does that happen? By God’s gracious act of bringing people together and leading them in an exodus. Unless you want to argue that there’s a kind of YomKippurization of Passover, which some people have, but I don’t think there is. I think what you have here is an interesting conceptual play and yet another example of John toying with tradition in an interesting way. You buy that? CSK: It depends on how much it costs. I think so.
[Laughter] HWA: That’s the price of admission.
John Hoffmann (JH): The tamid is the burnt offering right? HWA: No, the tamid is the daily offering. The hattat offering would be an offering for sin. There was a set of explicit offerings for sin. And the tamid is sometimes associated with the hattat offerings. So there are specific offerings that are made to take away sin and one might say that Jesus died for us like one of those offerings in some sort of sacrificial metaphor. But if you say, like Paul, that Christ our Passover has been sacrificed, you are not immediately calling up a sacrifice of atonement for sin, you are calling up a sacrifice that liberates or that marks a people. Basically it marks a people, right? And enables them to be in God’s grace.
JH: Was there a continual Passover offering then, once we’re finished with the Passover and the Exodus? They continued the Passover offering as well as the tamid right? HWA: Yes every year. JH: That’s interesting. HWA: The initial instinct of a lot of early Christians was to say Christ’s death was a sacrificial act, and we know that sacrifice takes away sin. But when you start to think of it that’s a bit of a problem isn’t it? And that problem has bedeviled systematic theologians for the last 2,000 years. Does God need to kill his son in order to assuage guilt or something? What’s going on here? And I think it bothered people. Like the author of the Fourth Gospel. It bothered people like the author to the Epistle to the Hebrews. And they came up with different solutions. And those different solutions do not rely on a simple or a semplice notion of how sacrifice works. They do involve some interesting conceptual
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plays. And I think we have one going on here. So this is again not so much an interest in history but an interest in making sense of things.
Paul N. Anderson (PNA): Just to pick up on Hebrews 10: “The blood of bulls and goats cannot take away human sin, God gave this to humanity as a gift.” So it’s a revelational kind of presentation there in Hebrews. So I’m not so sure that Passover motifs in John are sacrificial, overtly, in presentation. I might see the Passover here as more an impending crisis in Jerusalem, more political. The kind of thing that Caiaphas is worried about: Rome is going to come and take away our place and nation. But Harry’s question raises a question for me in thinking about “lamb.” Well how about “lamb” in Revelation? How does the war of the lamb redeem the world? Does that have anything to do with what John the Baptist is saying about the lamb of God? CSK: And of course that’s one reason Dodd talked about the apocalyptic lamb especially with connections in Johannine literature. It is a different term between amnos and arnion, but that probably doesn’t make too much difference. Whoever wrote John 21 uses the other term from the one in Revelation. But in Revelation I see it as a pascal lamb also because of the plagues invoking the Exodus plagues so much, especially the plagues associated with the trumpets and bowls and anger, in chapters 8–10 and then chapter 16. So I see the blood of the lamb protecting God’s people there as if it were a Passover lamb. James H. Charlesworth (JHC): Well there are two very different terms. In John you have amnos: ide ho amnos tou theou. It is put in the mouth of John the Baptizer. In Revelation you have arnion. Now arnion, with one exception, is always a baby lamb. Then the question is “what is the blood on the arnion?” Well it’s his blood, he’s been slain. He’s not the one that slays. The blood is his. And this is developed very nicely by one of our [former] students, Professor Loren Johns.
CCB: I saw Professor Culpepper’s hand. R. Alan Culpepper (RAC): I ask permission to take the conversation in a little different direction. Something has been stewing in me in the whole of this conference. I want to express appreciation to all the participants here for the level of discussion and quality of the papers. But I’m really quite taken by the direction of the sort of common conversation about John and the Synoptics that we’ve had. Just to recall briefly, we started with Dale’s paper that John knows not only Mark but Matthew. Paul has been pushing us for some time on a bi-optic approach to gospel tradition. Harry looks at the tradition of the origin of Jesus, and John is in dialogue in the recasting of the issues of origin, not only with Mark but with Matthew and perhaps Luke also. This morning Jan ended his paper that John is correcting the Synoptics. I worked on “forty six years” and offered a speculative tradition history that that saying at least is not independently Johannine but goes in stages of development. Now Michael, looking at the other aspects of this Temple scene, concludes it’s primarily derivative. Those things that appear to be Johannine, are Johannine Tendenz, [but] the basic tradition is
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derivative. This strikes me as a very significant coalescing of viewpoints. I don’t think we’re denying that there is some independent tradition in John, but it is certainly getting complicated to find it. We’re at a conference on the historical Jesus and we keep going back tracing tradition to the Synoptics. And we are departing from Gardner-SmithDodd et al. up through Moody Smith, at least moving a bit beyond Moody it seems to me. And on the American scene I don’t know that I’ve been at a conference where there’s been this much sort of common sentiment of John’s, won’t say interaction [with], but dependence [upon] the Synoptic tradition if not the Synoptics themselves. And in terms of a conclusion of the conference, rather than something about the recovery of the historical Jesus from Johannine tradition, I’m going home saying that there is a new wind blowing in American Johannine scholarship in terms of John’s relation to at least Synoptic tradition if not the Synoptics themselves. Am I over-reading the situation? And if not what do we think is going on in terms of this change of sentiment and of how we understand John’s intent and purposes in terms of this recasting of material from a common gospel tradition? CCB: I’m taking the questions in the order in which I see the signals. Yes sir. Jan Roskovec (JR): I think this is quite important. So I don’t want to interfere. My question was on something quite different. So I’d rather hear the opinions on that. JHC: Alan mentioned it to me earlier and I think it is one of the [consensuses] that we inadvertently found. You also said, Alan, that we are positing something quite different than the Leuven School. I think we’ve made a major contribution. I think many of us have said that John is independent, but he seems to know at least one of the Synoptics but that he’s not necessarily dependent on it. I think that’s what I’ve heard, but each of you should kind of speak to it. CCB: Professor Keener has indicated that he wishes to respond to Professor Culpepper. CSK: Part of the issue is that when we talk about historical Jesus scholarship . . . historical Jesus scholarship today usually engages the Synoptics. And also most of us agree that Mark is early, probably the strong majority of us would agree that Mark is the earliest of the surviving Gospels. So when we talk about John’s historical reliability it makes the most sense to compare what we have in John with these earlier sources, so it kind of drives us in that direction having to make those comparisons. When I was working my way through John’s Gospel, there was a certain section where I found consistently, not just coincidentally, but consistently, it looked like John was responding to prior tradition. Like the passion narrative as we have it in the other Gospels, like in Mark 14 where Jesus says “the one who dips with me,” which might be an act of rebellion, when you compare it with what is going on with different order. In any case, in John, of course, he [Jesus] gives him [Judas] some [bread himself], in John 13. Also in Mark 15, Simon carries the cross but in John 19 it’s Jesus who carries the cross. In that case normally the convict did carry the cross. It’s still very different. The day of the Passover, moving it
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from the Passover meal signifying Jesus’ death to Jesus’ death actually being at the time of the Passover offering and just a number of other examples like that. Of course, Jesus’ carrying the cross also fits “I lay my life down, nobody takes it from me.” It just looked like he was playing on the traditional passion narrative. Even the secrets of the Temple cleansing, we often have spoken over the past century of Mark being a passion narrative with an extended introduction. By moving the Temple cleansing forward it looks to me like John may have been overshadowing the whole of the public ministry with the passion week. I see it more in the passion narrative than I do in some other parts of the Gospel, very consistently. CCB: Professor Anderson, did you want to speak to this? PNA: Something in a resource that I’ll send everyone in a pdf draft of it when it comes out in a couple of months: John, Jesus, and History Vol 3: Glimpses of Jesus through a Johannine Lens. It’s in three parts: passion, works, teachings. What I felt that I had to do as one of the editors, introducing the three parts, is introducing each part with comparing John and the Synoptics where I tried to find all of the parallels and itemize them in each of those three parts in three sections. One: multiple attestations or parallels, and I listed all the ones that I could find. Then [second] I listed places where John is really at odds with Mark in particular, so you have to choose either Mark or John. And the third category is material that is in John and not in the Synoptics: independent material. And that could be a database for raising these kinds of questions and thinking therefore about the analysis that may be helpful to us all. JHC: I think it would be very powerful that we were able to say that the Princeton-Prague symposium here in 2016 came up with a major consensus, and I think we are feeling it but we didn’t expect it . . . how does that sound to everybody? HWA: Just on that point, I was blown away by the fact that so many people were thinking along the same lines. I thought I was going to be a voice crying in the wilderness, with the truth of course!
[Laughter] RAC: I think that is part of the surprise here. If this had been a conference on John and the Synoptics then you’d say “well we’d all move in this way.” The conference wasn’t even on that theme primarily but it has come up as a kind of subtext of the other papers. JHC: It’s what you learn in astrophysics. If you want to see a star you don’t look at it. You have to look to the side of it and then you see. So it’s kind of like what we’ve done is that we’ve been looking at the historical Jesus and how we might find it in John and bingo we saw something that is there blinking in front of us: John seems to know some of the Synoptic traditions. PNA: And what I’ve been having to tell my authors for the last 15 years in John, Jesus and History, is “I know there are literary issues here, but what can you say, or not, about Jesus?” It’s been so hard to push people to try and make
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some kind of judgment on why and how this might or might not relate to Jesus. RAC: It strikes me that if this is something serious and not just a minor blip on the academic discussion it really puts again the question to us, why John wrote and why he wrote in this way. And is he simply spiritualizing the Synoptics? Do we go with Hans Windisch? He’s correcting the Synoptics? Is this a kind of midrash on the tradition akin to the Leuven approach? Is it something about the nature of the early situation? It really does push the question that if you come to the consensus that John actually is in dialogue with the common Synoptic tradition or the Synoptics themselves then what is he doing? And there you can list the parallels or you can list the points in common. That of itself doesn’t really tell you. I think then we’re back to Jan’s question. How is he doing this? Why? For what purpose? What to make of the parallels? PNA: And the language that I would use is autonomy, instead of independence. It’s dialogical and many levels of the dialogical: dialectical thinking, dialogical gospel relations, dialogical situation about the human-divine dialogue in revelation, so I’ve been using “dialogical autonomy” as a way of talking about overall Johannine theory. CSK: I think that is helpful. It just seems incredible that somebody could be writing in the last decade of the first century or thereabouts and not know about the existence of other gospels and yet be using the gospel form. JR: I just wanted to add to it. I wasn’t all that surprised that the question about the historical Jesus is leading into the question of the relationships between the Gospels because already from the point of view of the history of the research, most of what has been written on the literary relation between the Gospels was in the very beginning incentivized by the question of the historical Jesus. And when you ask about the historical Jesus you have to ask about the nature of the sources related to these questions. So I think it is not a vicious circle but it is a circle of interpretation that we have to go through again. So I wasn’t all that surprised. But in the end we cannot do very much more than be clearer about the nature of our sources of the historical developments which led to different portraits of Jesus. We cannot form the historical portrait of Jesus. CCB: Professor Pokorný . Petr Pokorný : I think there is one question we need to take into consideration that may help us. We have to ask whether the Gospel writer John (the last writer) intended to comment on the other Gospels or to replace them. Like Matthew intended to replace Mark or Luke intended to replace Mark. Whether John intended to create a perfect spiritual Gospel, or better, he [pre]supposed the other Gospels, at least some of them (he didn’t yet know what would be canonized), and intended to give his spiritual commentary. Then we have to suppose that he supposed that the reader [also knows] some of the information included in the other Gospels. This could lead us some steps further. CCB: Yes sir.
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PNA: Something in my paper that I didn’t comment on: When we look at Papias and Eusebius we notice that it is the elder who is being quoted. The Johannine elder. See that nobody has noticed that. And it’s three critiques of Mark. [Point one:] Pretty good but in the wrong order; Maybe the Temple cleansing (sorry Michael no), it was early not late. To and from Jerusalem. Dating of the Last Supper. A chronological corrective to Mark that’s replicated in the Johannine narrative as we have it. Point two: well not exactly accurate, historically, but Peter is preaching according to the needs of the situation, therefore critique as license. If Peter can paraphrase it, we can paraphrase it. Point number three: Mark made no mistake including all he did, but he simply wanted to leave nothing out. He was being conservative. Therefore there is a concern about duplications. Therefore one beating not two. One healing of the blind. One healing of the lame. Therefore a desire to be non-duplicative. Therefore these three critiques of Mark are exactly what [are] presented in the Gospel of John, and maybe therefore John is different on purpose. My greatest critique about Matthew not being written by a disciple is that it is too close to Mark. It’s not enough like John. And yet scholars will say “oh well John is too different therefore it’s not an eyewitness tradition,” but maybe it’s different because it does reflect an independent tradition. CSK: If Papias in fact bears witness to a Johannine stream of thought there, it still wouldn’t guarantee that it’s correct in terms of the historical Jesus, it would just mean that Papias liked the Johannine stream of thought that also received Papias. PNA: Or the way that I would put it is that there Papias is repeating a Johannine critique of Mark which is a historical critique, that’s all. Not just theology only. Yes Mark is pretty good, but that’s not the best way to do it, here’s a better way to do it from a historical perspective. CCB: Professor Attridge. HWA: I have one comment on this larger question and then another question, if I may. We’ll see if we’re ready to move on from this. I guess my question would be that we shouldn’t be too dichotomous in thinking about how texts relate to one other in the first century. It may not be that this Gospel is trying to displace or eliminate other Gospels. It’s doing something different. I don’t think we can reduce it to the kind of historical critique that Paul [Anderson] wants to see reflected through Papias. I think there are all sorts of things going on in this text. And the author, or authors if there [is] more than one, uses [his] sources in interesting and creative ways to make a variety of points. Some of them are historical, some theological, some in dialogue with other early Christian sources. So to think that this author is bound to displace or be in dialogue with something canonical I think is an anachronism. CSK: I know you are coming back with another question, just a comment. In Luke 1 where he mentions other works that have been done before, in connection with that I was looking at a number of ancient prefaces as we mentioned earlier and, some of them . . . they respond to the earlier works in different ways. They differentiate, normally, their own work from previous
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CCB: Harry did you have a follow-up? HWA: I have a question for Michael if I may. If people want to continue on the grand scheme of things fine. I hear your objection. Let me ask you one thing. I like especially your notion that what is going on in 2:17 is somehow foreshadowing something else that is going to happen somewhere else in the Gospel. As in so many cases maybe it is foreshadowing a number of things that are going to be happening in the Gospel. Would you consider the possibility that what is being foreshadowed is 6:51? PNA: “The bread that I give is my flesh for the life of the world.” Michael A. Daise (MAD): I’ll tell you this. I haven’t considered it until now, would you elaborate? HWA: You draw a dichotomy between consumption as being physically eaten up by the process versus being emotionally involved with the process. I go back to being physically eaten up by the process, in every sense in which it’s being deployed in 6:51. And so one might think, if one were being totally playful here, that zeal for my father’s house, when it is put in your hearts, will consume me [literally], with my flesh and my blood, in whatever way that happens. MAD: So, the zeal applies to the belief. That sounds . . . . HWA: It preaches! MAD: Right yes. I hadn’t thought along those lines because my concern was just to get it back to Jesus being beside himself, so I was far removed from applying it to . . . . HWA: A footnote maybe. JR: I would have a remark to the same thing. Thank you for your nice presentation of that. It made me think. I think that maybe there is one argument that should be taken into account for the traditional understanding of this observation as participation in Jesus’ death on the cross. The thing is that this quotation that comes in verse 2:17 comes directly after Jesus is saying . . . “don’t make the house of my father a house of iniquity.” Now this is the first place in the Gospel of John where Jesus himself expresses this high Christology, and “father” now in 5:18, [and] this is the first place where the explicit intention to kill Jesus is expressed, that “the Jews” want to kill him. The reason is that he calls God his father. So one of the reasons that the Gospel of John gives for Jesus’ crucifixion is that he’s calling upon his father. It’s precisely what he did in the Temple. So that’s why . . . I’m not saying that
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it is so, but it has to be considered I think, that it can be taken in favor of interpreting this quotation as an anticipation. MAD: Essentially what you are saying is implicit in the language Jesus uses, as he alludes to Zechariah 14:21, is this parity with God. JR: No, no. He is saying it explicitly. In 2:17 he speaks about “the house of my father.” MAD: But that would be implicit in the future tense of the verb, so that when it says “will consume me” . . . JR: Yes that’s right. MAD: What that embraces also is a claim to parity with God which happens in the Temple. JR: Yes because what he is doing is he is commenting, by what he is saying, he says “well this is the house of my father,” it means the LORD is my father, and that is the first instance when in the Gospel the question of Jesus being killed is expressed, the reason is, because of his father. MAD: So zeal then would include this claim. JR: This claim, yes I think it would. MAD: So then you can read “zeal will consume me” as being “that claim will result in reprisal.” JR: It is the explanation of that zeal. He is zealous for the house because it is the house of his father. That’s why he is so sensitive. CSK: It’s a Psalm often associated with the passion narrative in early Christian circles, and also the esthiō , the cognate katesthiō that’s used here in John 6 that was just pointed out, it also, just the idea of how often John uses double entendre, that this could be both. MAD: [Yes] it could. Now with regard to its use in the passion narrative, I do treat that a bit in the paper. It’s the second colon, not the first, that’s used, and “the reproaches of those who reproached you have fallen on me,” and that’s what’s used. And what’s inferred is that the Psalmist be read in the synonymous parallels. So that the reprisal that occurs in 69:10b is simply stated in another way in 69:10a. But you can look at that verse where I’m arguing this as a synthetic rather than a synonymous parallel, in which case “A” could be cause to the effect of “B,” which makes all the references to 69[:10]b in the passion arguably irrelevant to what John is doing. And there, with Barrett, I’m saying there’s no reason why both the Psalmist and John can’t be consumed. But yeah, I appreciate that. And especially (I presented a paper at the CBA a year and a half ago; I presented this kind of thing there, and some[one] mentioned double entendre), thank you for your comments here.
CCB: And now the conversation must necessarily spill over into the coffee break. Please join with me in thanking Professor Keener and Professor Daise. I believe we stand in adjournment until four o’clock.
Part Six
Appendices
Notes Chapter 1 1 On the history of John’s contributions to Christological and theological discussions in the patristic era, see T. E. Pollard, Johannine Christology and the Early Church (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1970); Maurice F. Wiles, The Spiritual Gospel: The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel in the Early Church (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1960); Anthony Casurella, The Johannine Paraclete in the Early Church: A Study in the History of Exegesis (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1983); Paul N. Anderson, The Christology of the Fourth Gospel: Its Unity and Disunity in the Light of John 6, WUNT 2/78 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1996; repr. Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2010). 2 For an analysis of the character and origin of thirty-six of the key Johannine riddles, see Paul N. Anderson, The Riddles of the Fourth Gospel: An Introduction to John (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 2011). My analysis of the strengths and weaknesses of twelve planks of the two established critical platforms regarding John, Jesus, and history, suggesting why this study is needed, and why it is needed now, was first published in Paul N. Anderson, The Fourth Gospel and the Quest for Jesus: Modern Foundations Reconsidered, LNTS 321 (London: T&T Clark, Bloomsbury, 2006), 25–41, and then in John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 1: Critical Appraisals of Critical Views, Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, S.J. and Tom Thatcher, eds., SBL Symposium Series 44 (Atlanta: SBL, 2007), 13–70. 3 For additional reviews of the literature, see Paul N. Anderson, “On Jesus: Quests for Historicity, and the History of Recent Quests,” QRT 94 (2000): 5–39, and the four literature reviews in Anderson et al., John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 1, 75–101, 109–20, 121–32, 133–59. 4 Of course, there are many ways of categorizing the epochs of Jesus Research, including dividing up the nineteenth century into two periods and seeing the early twentieth century as a Jesus-traditions quest, but this is a workable way to consider some of the major movements in the field. 5 Friedrich Schleiermacher, The Life of Jesus, ed. Jack Verheyden, trans. S. MacLean Gilmour (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975). 6 David F. Strauss, The Christ of Faith and the Jesus of History: A Critique of Schleiermacher’s The Life of Jesus, ed. and trans. Leander E. Keck (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977). 7 William Wrede, The Messianic Secret, trans. J. C. G. Greig (Cambridge: Clarke, 1971). 8 Dale C. Allison, Jr., “The Secularizing of the Historical Jesus,” Perspectives on Religious Studies 27.2 (2000): 135–51, notes, for instance, no fewer than ninety books on Jesus between 1907 and 1953, with only one year missing a significant book on Jesus that year. Bultmann’s skepticism regarding history, however, came to prevail among many New Testament scholars overall, until it was challenged in the early 1950s by his student, Ernst Käsemann. 9 James M. Robinson, The New Quest of the Historical Jesus (London: SCM, 1959).
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Notes to pages 9–12
10 Ernst Käsemann, “The Problem of the Historical Jesus,” in his Essays on New Testament Themes, SBT 41, trans. W. J. Mongtague (London: SCM, 1964), 15–47. His inaugural lecture at Göttingen in 1951 on this subject was delivered again at Marburg in 1953 for a reunion of alumni and published the following year in ZTK 15 (1954): 125–53. 11 Disagreeing diametrically with Bultmann’s incarnational view of the Johannine Evangelist’s thrust, Ernst Käsemann, The Testament of Jesus: A Study of the Gospel of John in the Light of Chapter 17, trans. G. Krodel (Philadelphia: Augsburg Fortress, 1968), repr. The Johannine Monograph Series 6 (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2017), saw John’s narrative as naïve Docetism. 12 N. T. Wright, “Towards a Third Quest? Jesus Then and Now,” ARC: The Journal of the Faculty of Religious Studies, McGill University, Montreal, Canada 10.1 (1982): 20–27. 13 Robert W. Funk, Roy W. Hoover, and the Jesus Seminar, The Five Gospels: The Search for the Authentic Words of Jesus (New York: Polebridge Press, 1993). See also Robert W. Funk and the Jesus Seminar, The Acts of Jesus: The Search for the Authentic Deeds of Jesus (San Francisco: Harper, 1998). 14 See my analysis: “On Jesus: Quests for Historicity, and the History of Recent Quests,” QRT 94 (2000): 5–39; see also the response by Marcus Borg, “The Jesus Seminar from the Inside,” QRT 98 (2002): 21–27. 15 Thus, second criticality is required in biblical scholarship, not simply second naïveté; cf. Paul N. Anderson, From Crisis to Christ: A Contextual Introduction to the New Testament (Nashville: Abingdon, 2014), x–xii. 16 Paul N. Anderson, “A Fourth Quest for Jesus … So What, and How So?” The Bible and Interpretation (July 2010): http://www.bibleinterp.com/opeds/fourth357921.shtml. 17 Brooke Foss Westcott, The Gospel according to St. John, 2 vols. (London: Murray, 1908; repr., Grand Rapids: Baker, 1980). Impressive also is the newly published commentary and essays on the Johannine Question by J. B. Lightfoot, The Gospel of St. John: A Newly Discovered Commentary, The Lightfoot Legacy Set, Vol. 4, ed. Ben Witherington, III and Todd D. Still (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2015). 18 Cf. Philip Sidetes (History, codex Baroccianus 142) and George Hamartolos (Chronicon, codex Coislinianus 305); so argued in Anderson, Riddles of the Fourth Gospel, 104–05. 19 Rudolf Bultmann, The Gospel of John: A Commentary, trans. G. R. Beasley-Murray, R. N. W. Hoare, and J. K. Riches (Oxford: Blackwell, 1971), repr. The Johannine Monograph Series 1 (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2014). In my Foreword to the 2014 publication (i–xxviii), I consider Bultmann’s commentary on John to be the most significant New Testament monograph in the twentieth century, second only, perhaps, to Schweitzer’s Quest of the Historical Jesus. 20 J. Ramsey Michaels, The Gospel of John, NICNT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010). 21 C. K. Barrett, The Gospel according to St. John, 2nd ed. (London: SPCK; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1978); see also Thomas L. Brodie, The Quest for the Origin of John’s Gospel: A Source-Oriented Approach (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993). 22 Percival Gardner-Smith, Saint John and the Synoptic Gospels (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1938). 23 C. H. Dodd, Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1963). 24 Raymond E. Brown, The Gospel according to John, 2 Vols., AB 29-29A (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1966–70).
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25 Rudolf Schnackenburg, The Gospel according to St. John, 3 Vols., trans. Kevin Smyth (London: Burns & Oates; New York: Seabury, 1968–82). 26 Martin Hengel, The Johannine Question, trans. John Bowden (Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1989). 27 Richard Bauckham, The Testimony of the Beloved Disciple: Narrative, History, and Theology in the Gospel of John (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007). 28 Ben Witherington, III, “What’s in a Name? Rethinking the Historical Figure of the Beloved Disciple in the Fourth Gospel,” in John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 2: Aspects of Historicity in the Fourth Gospel, eds. Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, S.J., and Tom Thatcher, ECL 2 (Atlanta, GA: SBL Press, 2009), 203–12. 29 James H. Charlesworth, The Beloved Disciple: Whose Witness Validates the Gospel of John? (Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1995). 30 Esther A. De Boer, Mary Magdalene: Beyond the Myth (London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 1997). 31 Urban C. von Wahlde, The Gospel and Letters of John, 3 Vols., ECC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010). 32 Archibald M. Hunter, According to John: The New Look at the Fourth Gospel (Louisville: Westminster, 1968). 33 For several crises in the Johannine situation over several decades, see Paul N. Anderson, “Bakhtin’s Dialogism and the Corrective Rhetoric of the Johannine Misunderstanding Dialogue: Exposing Seven Crises in the Johannine Situation,” in Bakhtin and Genre Theory in Biblical Studies, ed. Roland Boer, Semeia Studies 63 (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2007), 133–59. 34 Raymond E. Brown, Community of the Beloved Disciple (New York: Paulist, 1979). 35 J. Louis Martyn, History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel, 3rd ed., NTL (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2003). 36 Wayne A. Meeks, The Prophet-King: Moses Traditions and the Johannine Christology, NovTSup 14 (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1967), repr. Johannine Monograph Series 5 (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2017). 37 Käsemann, The Testament of Jesus. 38 Peder Borgen, Bread from Heaven: An Exegetical Study of the Concept of Manna in the Gospel of John and the Writings of Philo, NovTSup 10 (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1965 and 1981), repr. Johannine Monograph Series 4 (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2017). 39 Richard J. Cassidy, John’s Gospel in New Perspective: Christology and the Realities of Roman Power, 3rd ed., Johannine Monograph Series 3 (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2015). 40 Wayne A. Meeks, “The Man from Heaven in Johannine Sectarianism,” JBL 91 (1972): 44–72; D. Moody Smith, Johannine Christianity: Essays on its Setting, Sources, and Theology (Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 1984); Brown, The Community of the Beloved Disciple. 41 R. Alan Culpepper, Anatomy of the Fourth Gospel: A Study in Literary Design: Foundations and Facets (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1983). 42 James H. Charlesworth, “The Historical Jesus in the Fourth Gospel: A Paradigm Shift?” JSHJ 8 (2010): 3–46. 43 Robert T. Fortna and Tom Thatcher, eds., Jesus in Johannine Tradition (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2001); Tom Thatcher, Why John Wrote a Gospel: Jesus— Memory—History (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2005); Tom Thatcher, ed., What We Have Heard From the Beginning: The Past, Present, and Future of Johannine Studies (Waco: Baylor University Press, 2007); Tom Thatcher and Stephen D. Moore,
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Notes to pages 16–27 eds., Anatomies of Narrative Criticism: The Past, Present, and Future of the Fourth Gospel as Literature, RBS 55 (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2008). Published in paperback with new substantive introductions, books either in print or in process within the Johannine Monograph Series (Eugene: Wipf & Stock) include Rudolf Bultmann, The Gospel of John: A Commentary (Vol. 1, 2014); Richard Cassidy, John’s Gospel in New Perspective (Vol. 2, 2015); D. Moody Smith, Composition and Order of the Fourth Gospel (Vol. 3, 2015); Peder Borgen, Bread From Heaven (Vol. 4, 2017); Wayne A. Meeks, The Prophet-King (Vol. 4, 2017); Ernst Käsemann, A Testament of Jesus (Vol. 6, 2017). Mark A. Powell, “‘Things That Matter’: Historical Jesus Studies in the New Millennium,” Word and World 29.2 (2009): 121–28. See also Mark A. Powell, Jesus as a Figure in History, Second Edition: How Modern Historians View the Man from Galilee (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013). See a full outline of twelve historical riddles of John in Anderson, The Riddles of the Fourth Gospel, 45–65. This case was argued compellingly by Paula Fredriksen, “The Historical Jesus, the Scene in the Temple, and the Gospel of John,” in John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 1, ed. Anderson et al., 249–76. For outlines of features most likely to be historical in all four canonical Gospels, in the Synoptics, and in John, see Anderson, The Fourth Gospel and the Quest for Jesus, 127–73. See especially James M. Robinson, The Problem of History in Mark (London: SCM, 1957). Argued in fuller detail in Paul N. Anderson, “The Jesus of History, the Christ of Faith, and the Gospel of John,” in The Gospels: History and Christology; the Search of Joseph Ratzinger—Benedict XVI, Vol. 2, eds. Bernardo Estrada, Ermenegildo Manicardi, Armand Puig I Tarrech (Rome: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 2013), 63–81. For a full outline of the mundane material in John, including archaeological and topographical detail, see Paul N. Anderson, “Aspects of Historicity in the Gospel of John: Implications for Investigations of Jesus and Archaeology,” in Jesus and Archaeology, ed. James H. Charlesworth (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006), 587–613; see also Urban C. von Wahlde, “Archaeology and Topography in the Gospel of John,” in Jesus and Archaeology, ed. James H. Charlesworth (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006), 523–86. Charlesworth, The Beloved Disciple. For a full theory of John’s composition and authorship, see Paul N. Anderson, “On ‘Seamless Robes’ and ‘Leftover Fragments’—A Theory of Johannine Composition,” in Structure, Composition, and Authorship of John’s Gospel, eds. Stanley E. Porter and Hughson Ong, The Origins of John’s Gospel, Vol. 2 (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2015), 169–218. Paul N. Anderson, “On Guessing Points and Naming Stars—The Epistemological Origins of John’s Christological Tensions,” in The Gospel of St. John and Christian Theology, eds. Richard Bauckham and Carl Mosser (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), 311–45. Paul N. Anderson, “The Johannine Logos-Hymn: A Cross-Cultural Celebration of God’s Creative-Redemptive Work,” in Creation Stories in Dialogue: The Bible, Science, and Folk Traditions (Radboud Prestige Lecture Series by Alan Culpepper), eds. R. Alan Culpepper and Jan van der Watt, BInS 139 (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2016), 219–42. For fuller treatments of several crises in the Johannine situation; cf. Paul N. Anderson, “The Sitz im Leben of the Johannine Bread of Life Discourse and its Evolving Context,”
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in Critical Readings of John 6, ed. Alan Culpepper, BInS 22 (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1997), 1–59; and “Bakhtin’s Dialogism and the Corrective Rhetoric of the Johannine Misunderstanding Dialogue: Exposing Seven Crises in the Johannine Situation,” in Bakhtin and Genre Theory in Biblical Studies; Semeia Studies 63, ed. Roland Boer (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2007), 133–59. Barnabas Lindars, The Gospel of John, NCB (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1972). John Ashton, Understanding the Fourth Gospel (Oxford: Clarendon, 1991). Brown, The Gospel according to John. D. Moody Smith, The Fourth Gospel in Four Dimensions: Judaism and Jesus, the Gospels and Scripture (Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 2008). Again, for a fuller analysis; cf. Anderson, “On ‘Seamless Robes’ and ‘Leftover Fragments.’” Paul N. Anderson, “The Having-Sent-Me Father—Aspects of Agency, Encounter, and Irony in the Johannine Father-Son Relationship,” Semeia 85, ed. Adele Reinhartz (1999): 33–57. Bultmann argued that John’s detail reflected a historicized drama rather than a dramatized history, although Matthew and Luke tend to omit Markan details rather than adding details. Cf. Anderson, The Christology of the Fourth Gospel, 187–91. Note, thus, that in Erich Auerbach’s Mimesis: The Representation of Reality in Western Literature, trans. Willard R. Trask (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1953), he does not think this feature applies to gospel traditions. So argued Robert Funk in his Honest to Jesus: Jesus for a New Millennium (San Francisco: Harper, 1996). For analyses of John 6 and 18-19, see Anderson, The Christology of the Fourth Gospel, 70–251; and Paul N. Anderson, “Gradations of Symbolization in the Johannine Passion Narrative: Control Measures for Theologizing Speculation Gone Awry,” in Imagery in the Gospel of John, eds. Jörg Frey, Jan G. van der Watt, and Ruben Zimmermann, WUNT 2/200 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006), 157–94. As none of the similarities between John 6 and Mark 6 and 8 are identical (0 out of 45, Anderson, The Christology of the Fourth Gospel, 98–104), theories of John’s dependence on Mark are totally without evidentiary basis. Therefore (with GardnerSmith, Bultmann, and Smith) John is not dependent literarily on the Synoptics. However, the work of Ian D. Mackay, John’s Relationship with Mark: An Analysis of John 6 in the Light of Mark 6–8, WUNT 2/182 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004), shows general similarities between John and Mark, and thus it cannot be claimed that John is isolated from Mark. The most plausible view, suggested by Mackay, is that the Johannine Evangelist probably heard Mark performed in one or more meetings for worship, and therefore John’s relation to Mark is autonomous-yet-familiar. Mackay, John’s Relationship with Mark. Interestingly, Richard Bauckham argues two points that may be both compelling and reinforcing. In arguing that John’s story of Jesus was written for readers of Mark, Bauckham demonstrates John’s familiarity with at least some of Mark’s narrative: “John for Readers of Mark,” in The Gospel for All Christians: Rethinking the Gospel Audiences, ed. Richard Bauckham (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), 147–71. And, in elucidating the historiographic features of John’s narrative, Bauckham demonstrates that John’s genre is that of a bios—a Hellenistic historical narrative: The Testimony of the Beloved Disciple, 93–112. From these two theses a third inference must be drawn. John’s story of Jesus is intended as a historical companion-and-alternative to Mark. Thus, John follows Mark’s pattern to some degree but sets the record straight here and there along the way. Cf. Paul N. Anderson, “Mark and John—The Bi-Optic Gospels,” in Jesus in Johannine Tradition, ed. Fortna and Thatcher, 175–88.
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68 Such details as 200 and 300 denarii (John 6:7; 12:5; Mark 6:37; 14:5), the much/green grass at the feeding (John 6:10; Mark 6:39), and some other features are common to Mark and John alone, suggesting some sort of early tradition contact, though not the sort of text-derivative relationship that Matthew and Luke enjoyed with Mark. For further details, see Anderson, The Christology of the Fourth Gospel, 187–92. 69 In terms of answerability between the Markan and Johannine traditions, see six discernible levels of dialectical engagement between these two traditions over several decades, including contrasting parallels between John and Mark: Paul N. Anderson, “Mark, John, and Answerability: Interfluentiality and Dialectic between the Second and Fourth Gospels,” Liber Annuus 63 (2013): 197–245. 70 For a fuller analysis of these three points by the Johannine Elder in Papias’ testimony, see Anderson, “The Jesus of History, the Christ of Faith, and the Gospel of John.” 71 NPNF1. 72 See the analysis of the historical inadequacy of the Synoptic and Johannine renderings of the Temple incident by James S. McLaren, “The Perspective of a Jewish Priest on the Johannine Timing of the Action in the Temple,” in John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 3, ed. Paul N. Anderson et al., 201–14. 73 For a larger analysis of John’s relation to each of the Synoptic traditions, see Anderson, The Fourth Gospel and the Quest for Jesus, 101–26, and idem, “A Bi-Optic Hypothesis: A Theory of Gospel Relations,” in Anderson, From Crisis to Christ, 102–27. 74 F. Lamar Cribbs, “A Study of the Contacts that Exist between St Luke and St John,” SBLSP (Cambridge, MA: SBL, 1973), 1–93. 75 Note also the overlooked first century clue to John’s apostolic authorship found in Acts 4:19-20 (Anderson, The Christology of the Fourth Gospel, 274–77). On this note and over six dozen ways that Luke departs from Mark in support of a Johannine direction or including a Johannine detail, see Paul N. Anderson, “Acts 4:19-20 — An Overlooked First Century Clue to Johannine Authorship and Luke’s Dependence upon the Johannine Tradition.” The Bible and Interpretation (September 2010): http:// www.bibleinterp.com/opeds/acts357920.shtml. 76 For John’s dialectical engagements with uses of the Matthean tradition, see Chapter 10 of Anderson, The Christology of the Fourth Gospel, and Paul N. Anderson, “‘You Have the Words of Eternal Life!’ Is Peter Presented as Returning the Keys of the Kingdom to Jesus in John 6:68?” Neotestamentica 41.1 (2007): 6–41. Versus the view that John was written to supplant the other Gospels (Hans Windisch, Johannes und die Synoptiker: Wollte der vierte Evangelist die älteren Evangelien ergänzen oder ersetzen? UNT 12 [Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs, 1926]), John’s finalized form is designed to be considered among the Gospels, and Matthew in particular during its later stages, with Käsemann, The Testament of Jesus, and somewhat with James Barker, John’s Use of Matthew (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015). Contra Barker, however, John is not dependent upon Matthew; John engages Matthean influence dialectically, as the above studies demonstrate, but the Johannine tradition possesses its own origin and voice. 77 So argued in my introductions to John and to the New Testament: Anderson, The Riddles of the Fourth Gospel and From Crisis to Christ. 78 Anderson, The Christology of the Fourth Gospel, 137–65, 274–77. 79 Cf. cognitive-critical analyses of historical memory and its developments within the Johannine tradition: Franz Mussner, The Historical Jesus in the Gospel of St John, Quaestiones Disputatae 19 (Freiburg: Herder & Herder, 1967; Paul N. Anderson, “The Origin and Development of the Johannine Egō Eimi Sayings in CognitiveCritical Perspective,” JSHJ 9 (2011): 139–206; Paul N. Anderson, “The Cognitive
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Origins of John’s Christological Unity and Disunity,” Horizons in Biblical Theology; An International Dialogue 17 (1995): 1–24. These gradations of certainty and new criteria for determining historicity are laid out in several places, including Paul N. Anderson and Jaime Clark-Soles, “Introduction and Overview,” John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 3, ed. Anderson et al., 1–25; cited here are pages 18–21. Consider the more generous approaches to conducting gospel historiography in Anderson, The Fourth Gospel and the Quest for Jesus, 175–90. Within an overall theory of John’s dialogical autonomy, consider the impact of discerning the epistemological origins of all 36 of John’s theological, historical, and literary riddles within the present endeavor: Anderson, The Riddles of the Fourth Gospel, 157–72. In process is the editing of the proceedings of the sixth Nangeroni Meeting held at Camaldoli, Italy in June 2016, organized by Gabriele Boccaccini and others as part of a larger set of Enoch Seminars, designed to view the writings of early Christianity in the light of Jewish Second-Temple, apocalyptic, and intertestamental writings. The working title of this collection, edited by Ben Reynolds, elucidating the Jewishness of John’s presentation of Jesus, is Reading the Gospel of John’s Christology as Jewish Messianism: Royal, Prophetic, and Divine Messiahs (anticipated in 2018).
Chapter 2 1 C. H. Dodd, Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1963). 2 So, for example, the International Q Project; see James M. Robinson, Paul Hoffmann, and John S. Kloppenborg, The Critical Edition of Q: Synopsis of the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, Mark and Thomas with English, German and French Translations of Q and Thomas, Hermeneia (Minneapolis and Leuven: Fortress/Peeters, 2000), 78–79. 3 W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison, Jr., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, 3 vols. (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1991), 2:93, note 101. 4 Davies and Allison, Matthew, 2:93, referring to Dodd, Tradition, 335–38. 5 For Matthew’s fondness for parallelism see Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:94-95. 6 Robinson, Hoffmann, and Kloppenborg, Critical Edition, 78–79. 7 For further arguments pro and con see Linden E. Youngquist, Q 6:37-42: Not Judging—The Blind Leading the Blind, The Disciple and the Teacher, The Speck and the Beam, Documenta Q (Leuven, Paris, Walpole, MA: Peeters, 2011), 295–324. 8 John 15:20 and Matt 10:23 speak of persecution (both using the verb διώκω); John 15:21 and Matt 10:22 use the expression, “because of my name” (διὰ τὸ ὄνομά μου—only here in John); John 15:18, 19, 23-25 and Matt 10:22 speak of “all” or the “world” hating (both use the verb μισέω) Jesus’ followers; and John 13:20 (“He who receives any one whom I send receives me; and he who receives me receives him who sent me”) and Matt 10:40 (“He who receives you receives me, and he who receives me receives him who sent me”) are variants of the same saying. H. F. D. Sparks, “St. John’s Knowledge of Matthew: The Evidence of John 13,16 and 15,20,” JTS 3 (1952): 58–61, already noticed all this; unaccountably I did not consult his article when working on Matt 10. (The response to Sparks by P. Gardner-Smith, “St. John’s Knowledge of Matthew,” JTS 4 (1953): 31–35, attacks Sparks’ observations one at a time and fails to
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Notes to pages 50–53 appreciate their cumulative force.) See further Gilbert Van Belle and David R. M. Godecharle, “C. H. Dodd on John 13:16 (and 15:20): St John’s Knowledge of Matthew Revisited,” in Engaging with C. H. Dodd on the Gospel of John: Sixty Years of Tradition and Interpretation, eds. Tom Thatcher and Catrin H. Williams (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013), 86–106; they take full account of Sparks’ contribution. For the case for independence see Michael Theobald, Herrenworte im JohannesEvangelium, HBS 34 (Freiburg: Herder, 2002), 139–45. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:668. Frans Neirynck, “Les femmes au tombeau. Étude de la redaction matthéenne (Matt. xxviii,1-10),” NTS 15 (1969): 168–90; reprinted in idem, Evangelica. Gospel Studies— Études dʼévangile. Collected Essays, ed. F. Van Segbroeck, BETL 60 (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1982), 273–95; idem, “John and the Synoptics: The Empty Tomb Stories,” NTS 30 (1984): 161–87; reprinted in idem, Evangelica II: 1982-1991. Collected Essays, ed. F. Van Segbroeck, BETL 99 (Leuven: Leuven University Press/Peeters, 1991), 571–97. I was aware of surveys documenting the growing rejection of Dodd’s work, surveys such as those of Frans Neirynck, “John and the Synoptics: 1975-1990,” in John and the Synoptics, ed. Albert Denaux, BETL 101 (Leuven: Leuven University Press/Peeters, 1992), 3–62, and D. Moody Smith, John among the Gospels, 2nd ed. (Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 2001), 130–70. My attention, however, was focused on other matters. For a more recent survey see Michael Labahn and Manfred Lang, “Johannes und die Synoptiker: Positionen und Impulse seit 1990,” in Kontexte des Johannesevangeliums: Die vierte Evangelium in religions- und traditionsgeschichtlicher Perspektive, eds. Jörg Frey und Udo Schnelle (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004), 443–515. Dodd, Tradition, 335–65. Ibid., 341. He goes on to assert that while “the Johannine version of the saying is closer in shape to Matthew,” it is “closer in sense to Mark and Luke.” I cannot see that this last is at all clear. Ibid., 344. See further James W. Barker, John’s Use of Matthew (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 2015), 37–61; he argues that John here rewrites Matthew. For the case to the contrary see Theobald, Herrenworte, 174–99. Dodd, Tradition, 351—and adding: “but the evidence does not compel this conclusion.” Ibid., 358. Ibid., 359. Ibid., 361 and fn. 3. In general see Édouard Massaux, The Influence of the Gospel of Saint Matthew on Christian Literature before Saint Irenaeus, 3 vols., ed. Arthur J. Bellinzoni (Macon: Mercer, 1990–3), and W.-D. Köhler, Die Rezeption des Matthäusevangeliums in der Zeit vor Irenäus, WUNT 2/24 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1987). According to Paul Foster, “The Epistles of Ignatius of Antioch and the Writings that later formed the New Testament,” in The Reception of the New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers, eds. Andrew F. Gregory and Christopher M. Tuckett (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), 185, “it is most likely that Ignatius knew Matthew’s Gospel.” According to Paul Hartog, Polycarp and the New Testament: The Occasion, Rhetoric, Theme and Unity of the Epistle to the Philippians and its Allusions to New Testament Literature, WUNT 2/134 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002), 195, Polycarp “probably” knew Matthew.
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According to Christopher M. Tuckett, “The Didache and the Writings that later formed the New Testament,” in Gregory and Tuckett, Reception, 126, “in some instances the Didache appears to reflect elements of Matthew’s redactional activity, and hence to presuppose Matthew’s finished Gospel rather than just Matthew’s traditions.” According to Rainer Metzner, Die Rezeption des Matthäusevangeliums im 1.Petrusbrief: Studien zum traditionsgeschichtlichen und theologischen Einfluß des 1.Evangeliums auf den 1.Petrusbrief, WUNT 2/74 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1995), 283, 1 Pet depends not only upon early Christian paraenetical and catechetical tradition but also Matthew. For the possibility that the author of the Epistle of James knew Matthew see Dale C. Allison, Jr., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Epistle of James, ICC (New York, London, New Delhi, and Sydney: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2013), 56–62. One should also not forget that there appears to have been a harmony of the Synoptics or at least of Matthew and Luke before the middle of the second century; see A. J. Bellinzoni, The Sayings of Jesus in the Writings of Justin Martyr, NovTSup 17 (Leiden: Brill, 1967). Cf. Ulrich Wilckens, Das Evangelium nach Johannes, NTD 4 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000), 3 (“Because, at the time of the publication of John, Matthew was the best known and most widespread Gospel writing in the early church of the East as well as the West, it would be strange if it had remained completely unknown to the Evangelist John”), and Steven A. Hunt, Rewriting the Feeding of the Five Thousand: John 6.1-15 as a Test Case for Johannine Dependence on the Synoptic Gospels, SBL 125 (New York: Peter Lang, 2011), 52 (“if Matthew’s and Luke’s churches [wherever they were] were on the mailing list for Mark’s Gospel, it is at least plausible that John’s was too”). T. C. Chamberlin, “The Method of Multiple Working Hypotheses,” Science 148 (1965): 755. Note also John 9:5: “As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world” (φῶς εἰμι τοῦ κόσμου). For example, Irenaeus, Haer. 1.1.11; Clement of Alexandria, Exc. 1.9.3; Origen, Cels. 5.10, 11; Eusebius, Dem. ev. 2.3.104; 5.29.1; Gregory of Nyssa, Vit. Mos. 2.184. One might also observe that, although the expression, “to glorify God,” was quite common, δοξάζω (“glorify”) + πατέρα (“father,” of God) was rare before the second century CE (although note LXX Mal 1:6—“a son honors [δοξάζει] his father. . . . If then I am a father, where is my honor?”—and Rom 15:6—“that together you may with one voice glorify [δοξάζητε] the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ”), and that the latter idiom is common to Matt 5:16 (“give glory to your Father in heaven”); John 14:13 (“Whatever you ask in my name, I will do it, that the Father may be glorified in the Son”); and 15:8 (“My Father is gloried by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples”). Moreover, both Matt 5:16 and John 15:8 are about God the Father being glorified precisely by the deeds of Jesus’ disciples, and John 14:13 comes immediately after a line that refers to the “works” (ἔργα) of the disciples while Matt 5:14 leads to a declaration about the “works” (ἔργα) of Jesus’ followers. Note, for example, Origen, Cels. 5.10-11; Gregory of Nyssa, Steph. 2 PG 46:729; Cyril of Alexandria, Glaph. Gen.-Deut. PG 69:424; Philotheus Kokkinos, Vit. Isid. patr. 20.8; Matthew Poole, Annotations on the Holy Bible, 3 vols. (London: Henry G. Bohn, 1846), 3:22, The Greek Testament, vol. 1: The Four Gospels (Chicago: Moody, 1958), 41. John 1:4-9; 3:10-21; 9:5; 12:35-36, 46. Cf. Benedict T. Viviano, “John’s Use of Matthew: Beyond Tweaking,” in Matthew and His World: The Gospel of the Open Jewish Christians. Studies in Biblical Theology, SUNT 61 (Fribourg and Göttingen: Academic Press/Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2007), 250–51.
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30 Cf. Ulrich Luz, Matthew, 3 vols., Hermeneia (Minneapolis, MN: 2001–07), 1:203: “it is commonly held that vv. 13a, 14a, and 16 are redaction.” 31 See Dale C. Allison, Jr., Studies in Matthew: Interpretation Past and Present (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2005), 180–81. 32 Matt: 3x: 13:52; 27:57; 28:19; Mark: 0x; Luke: 0x. 33 On the correlations between the Baptist and Jesus in Matthew see John P. Meier, “John the Baptist in Matthew’s Gospel,” JBL 99 (1980): 383–405. 34 Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:649, n. 29, the reference being to K. P. G. Curtis, “Three Points of Contact between Matthew and John in the Burial and Resurrection Narratives,” JTS 23 (1972): 440–44. Cf. Luz, Matthew, 577: “We can scarcely assume a literary dependence of John on Matthew; it is more likely that there were related oral traditions.” He too then refers to Curtis. 35 At least in this particular, it is not true that, as Luz, Matthew, 577, has it, “the wording of John 19:38 is much different from that of Matthew.” 36 Note also that the λαβὼν τὸ σῶμα of Matt 27:59 lines up with the ἔλαβον οὖν τὸ σῶμα of John 19:40. 37 Dale C. Allison, Jr., The New Moses: A Matthean Typology (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 1993), 172–80, 239–42. 38 Dodd, Tradition, 209. 39 Ibidem. Cf. P. Gardner-Smith, Saint John the Synoptic Gospels (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1948), 28: “It has been noted that Matthew places the feeding of the five thousand on a hill (Matt. xv. 29), and he says that Jesus sat down, but since few allege that John was indebted to Matthew, it follows that the details were derived from oral tradition which would certainly assimilate the two stories.” Obviously this begs the question. 40 See Allison, as in n. 37; also Robert H. Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on his Literary and Theological Art (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), 65–66, 317–18. 41 Also relevant is the odd circumstance that Jesus ascends “the mountain” in John 6:3 and then does so again in John 6:15, without anywhere in between leaving the mountain. I agree with Paul W. Schmiedel, The Johannine Writings (London: Adam and Charles Black, 1908), 51, that “the matter admits of a simple explanation: when the author was about to relate the beginning of the Feeding, he had before him [or, I would say: remembered] the beginning of the second Feeding in Matt. (xv. 29), ‘and he went up into the mountain, and there he sat with his disciples.’ At the second place, however, when he was about to pass from the Feeding to Jesus’ walking on the sea (vi. 15) he remembered that Mark and Matt., in their first story of the Feeding, said that between the two acts Jesus ascended the mountain (his language agrees very closely with Matt. xiv. 23), and so he added this and overlooked the fact that he had said nothing about Jesus’ coming down.” Cf. Ismo Dunderberg, “Johannine Anomalies and the Synoptics,” in New Readings in John: Literary and Theological Perspectives. Essays from the Scandinavian Conference on the Fourth Gospel Århus 1997, eds. Johannes Nissen and Sigfred Pedersen, JSNTSup 182 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), 117–18. 42 B. H. Streeter, The Four Gospels: A Study of Origins Treating of the Manuscript Tradition, Sources, Authorship, & Dates (London: Macmillan and Co., 1924), 413. 43 Ibid., 414. 44 See the collection of commentary in Thomas Aquinas, Catena Aurea: Commentary on the Four Gospels, Vol. IV. St. John (London: Baronius Press, 2009), 45–46.
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45 Cf. Viviano, “John’s Use of Matthew,” 251–53. The old thesis of Hans Windisch, Johannes und die Synoptiker: Wollte der vierte Evangelist die älteren Evangelien ergänzen oder ersetzen?, UNT 12 (Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs, 1926), that John wished to supplant to Synoptics, fits some of the evidence. But there are other theories. Dunderberg, “Anomalies,” posits that the Fourth Evangelist intended to write an independent Gospel, one which does not assume that readers have the Synoptics in mind. More plausible to my mind is Barker, John’s Use: “John might have wanted to supplant Matthew, but John could not reasonably expect to supplant Matthew,” 27; John intended “that his Gospel be read alongside, not instead of, Matthew’s,” 114. 46 So Raymond E. Brown, The Gospel according to John, 2 vols., AB (Garden City, NY: Doubleday & Co., 1966–70), 1:476. Cf. Rudolf Schnackenburg, The Gospel according to St John, Volume Two: Commentary on Chapters 5-12 (New York: Seabury, 1980), 387; Barnabas Lindars, The Gospel of John, NCB (London: Oliphants, Marshall, Morgan and Scott, 1972), 431; and see further Theobald, Herrenworte, 224–25. 47 Dodd, Tradition, 333. 48 Ibid., 334. 49 Note also John 18:11: “Am I not to drink the cup that the Father has given me?” 50 See also now Hunt, Rewriting, and Barker, John’s Use. 51 C. K. Barrett, The Gospel according to St. John: An Introduction with Commentary and Notes on the Greek Text, 2nd ed. (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1978), 43. His list is: Mark 1:4-8 // John 1:19-36, the work and witness of the Baptist; Mark 1:14-15 // John 4:3, departure to Galilee; Mark 6:34-44 // John 6:1-13, feeding of the multitude; Mark 6:45-52 // John 6:16-21, walking on the lake; Mark 8:29 // John 6:68-69, Peter’s confession; Mark 9:30-31; 10:1, 32, 46 // John 7:10-14, departure to Jerusalem; Mark 11:1-10; 14:3-9 // John 12:12-15, 1-8; the entry and the anointing (reversed in John); Mark 14:17-26 // John 13:1-17:26, the last supper with predictions of betrayal and denial; Mark 14:43-52 // John 18:1-11, the arrest; Mark 14:53–16:8 // John 18:12–20:29, the passion and resurrection. 52 Matt 14:27 // John 6:20 (“It is I; do not be afraid”); Matt 16:16 // John 6:69 (“You are . . . the Son/Holy One of God”); Matt 21:5 // John 12:15 (quotation of Zech 9:9); Matt 26:21 // John 13:21 (“Truly I say to you, one of you will betray me”); Matt 26:34 // John 13:38 (the cock will not crow until Peter denies Jesus three times); Matt 26:52 // John 18:11 (command to put away the sword); Matt 26:57 // John 18:13, 24 (Caiaphas called “the high priest”); Matt 27:19 // John 19:13 (Pilate sat down ἐπὶ (τοῦ) βήματος, “on the judgment seat”); Matt 27:37 // John 19:19 (“Jesus . . . king of the Jews”); Matt 27:57-62 // John 19:38-42 (Joseph of Arimathea is a disciple of Jesus and buries him in a new tomb); Matt 28:10 // John 20:17 (Jesus appears to Mary Magdalene and gives her a message to deliver to “my brothers”). 53 See Ian D. Mackay, John’s Relationship with Mark: An Analysis of John 6 in the Light of Mark 6-8, WUNT 2/182 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004). 54 Which others have not overlooked; cf. for example, Edwin A. Abbott, Johannine Vocabulary: A Comparison of the Words of the Fourth Gospel with those of the Three (London: Adam and Charles Black, 1905), 245; Neirynck, “John and the Synoptics,” 35; Wilckens, Evangelium nach Johannes, 3. 55 Streeter, Four Gospels, 395–416. Streeter himself cites predecessors for his view: Benjamin Wisner Bacon, The Fourth Gospel in Research and Debate: A Series of Essays on Problems Concerning the Origin and Value of the Anonymous Writings attributed to the Apostle John (New York: Moffatt, Yard and Co., 1910), 366–68; Eric Reed Buckley, An Introduction to the Synoptic Problem (London: E. Arnold, 1912), 271, 275; Vincent
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Notes to page 60 Henry Stanton, The Gospels as Historical Sources, 3 vols. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1903–20), 3:214–20. This is the thesis of Michael Labhan, Jesus als Lebensspender: Untersuchungen zu einer Geschichte der johanneischen Tradition anhand ihrer Wundergeschichte, BZNW 98 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1999); he speaks in this connection of “secondary orality.” Cf. Josef Pilcher, “Setzt die Johannespassion Matthäus voraus?,” in The Death of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel, ed. G. Van Belle, BETL 200 (Leuven: Leuven University Press/ Peeters, 2007), 495–505. Here some words of Streeter, Four Gospels, 397, seem to me apt: “John . . . aiming avowedly at writing, not a biography, but a message meant to burn—‘that believing ye may have life in his name’—was not likely to write, like the other Evangelists, with a copy of Mark or any other document in front of him. The materials he uses have all been fused in the crucible of his creative imagination, and it is from the image in his mind’s eye, far more vivid than the written page, that he paints his picture.” See, for example, Dodd, Tradition, 209, on the feeding of the five thousand: given the agreements, “we should . . . have to postulate the use of both Matthew and Mark as sources. This I find incredible as an account of our Evangelist’s method of composition.” Ibid., 84, on the agreements between John and Mark and John and Luke when recounting Peter’s denial. Ibid., 423. This sort of argument is still with us; cf. John P. Meier, A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus, Volume Two: Mentor, Message, and Miracles, ABRL (New York: Doubleday, 1994), 951, on the feeding of the five thousand in John: “If John depends upon the Synoptics for his story of the feeding, then we must imagine him spreading out the texts of most of the Synoptic versions on his writing desk and then choosing one phrase from one version and then another phrase from another version, without much rhyme or reason.” This was the thesis of Anton Dauer, Die Passionsgeschichte im Johannesevangelium: Eine traditionsgeschichtliche und theologische Untersuchung zu John 18,1-19,30, SANT 30 (Munich: Kösel, 1972). This thesis seems to go back to Nils Dahl, “The Passion Narrative in Matthew,” in Jesus in the Memory of the Early Church (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg, 1976), 42. Cf. also Peder Borgen, “John and the Synoptics in the Passion Narrative,” in The Gospel of John: More Light from Philo, Paul, and Archaeology: The Scriptures, Tradition, Exposition, Settings, Meanings, NovTSup 154 (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2014), 103–19, and the contributions of Labahn and Pilcher, as in n. 12 and n. 56, respectively. This is the conclusion of Luz, Matthew, 1:59. See Marigold Linton, “Transformations of Memory in Everyday Life,” in Memory Observed: Remembering in Natural Contexts, ed. Ulrich Neisser (New York: W. H. Freeman & Co., 1982), 77–91; Ulrich Neisser, “John Dean’s Memory: A Case Study,” Cognition 9 (1981): 1–22. One wonders whether Dodd assumed what Gardner-Smith, Saint John, 40, assumed, that “it is amongst oral tradition that confusion takes place.” Confusion also takes place within each human memory. Dodd, Tradition, 423–24. See Michael B. Thompson, “The Holy Internet: Communication Between Churches in the First Christian Generation,” in The Gospels for All Christians: Rethinking the Gospel Audiences, ed. Richard Bauckham (Grand Rapids, MI/Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 1998), 49–70. Although he concerns himself with the period, 30–70 CE, there is no reason to imagine that circumstances were, in the relevant respects, any different during the following decades. See further Hunt, Rewriting, 51–55.
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66 There is now however a distinct tendency to date Luke later, which raises the possibility of arguing that Luke depends upon John; see Mark A. Matson, In Dialogue with Another Gospel? The Influence of the Fourth Gospel on the Passion Narrative of the Gospel of Luke, SBLDS 178 (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2001); Barbara Shellard, “The Relationship of Luke and John: A Fresh Look at an Old Problem,” in Für und wider die Priorität des Johannesevangeliums, eds. Peter Leander Hofrichter, Theologische Texte und Studien 9 (Hildesheim, Zurich, and New York: Georg Olms Verlag, 2002), 255–80; Mogens Müller, “Luke—The Fourth Gospel: The ‘Rewritten Bible’ Concept as a Way to Understand the Nature of the Later Gospels,” in Voces Clamantium in Deserto: Essays in Honor of Kari Syreeni, eds. Sven-Olav Back and Matti Kankaanniemi, Studier i exegetik och judaistik utgivna av Teologiska fakulteten vid Åbo Akademi (Åbo: Teologiska fakulteten, 2012), 231–42. 67 See, for example, Barnabas Lindars, Behind the Fourth Gospel (London: SPCK, 1971); James H. Charlesworth, “The Priority of John? Reflections on the Essenes and the First Edition of John,” in Hofrichter, Priorität, 73–114; also the chapter in the present volume by Urban C. von Wahlde, “The First Edition of John’s Gospel in Light of Archaeology and Contemporary Literature.” 68 For example, M.-É. Boismard, A. Lamouille, and G. Rochais, Synopse des quatre Évangiles en Français Tome III: LʼÉvangile de Jean. Commentaire (Paris: Cerf, 1977), 45–48; Rosel Baum-Bodenbender, Hoheit in Niedrigkeit: Johanneische Christologie im Prozess Jesu vor Pilatus (John 18,28-19,16a) (Würzburg: Echter, 1984); Paul N. Anderson, The Fourth Gospel and the Quest for Jesus, LNTS 321 (London and New York: T&T Clark, 2006); Urban C. von Wahlde, The Gospels and Letters of John, 3 vols., ECC (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2010), 1:369–74. Anderson argues for a complex scenario in which early Johannine tradition influenced pre-Markan tradition and vice versa and in which Matthew affected the final edition of John. 69 See further James H. Charlesworth, “Can Archaeology Help Us see Jesus’ Shadow in the Gospel of John?” in this volume. How those memories were acquired is a separate issue. One recalls that Streeter, Four Gospels, 418–20, raised the possibility that the Fourth Evangelist had “a pilgrim’s knowledge.” Streeter wrote that “a Jewish Christian pilgrim any time during the first century would be able to gather much information of value,” and that “the Johannine chronology may be based on a conscientious attempt by the author to piece together scattered bits of information picked up in Jerusalem.” 70 Cf. John Muddiman, “John’s Use of Matthew: A British Exponent of the Theory,” ETL 59 (1983): 337: “If John was acquainted with the work of all three Synoptics, and yet, as is abundantly clear, retained his unique independence of mind and freedom of expression, then the use to which he put the Gospel of Matthew is probably irrecoverable in precise detail.” 71 See Michael A. Daise, “Jesus and the Historical Implications of John’s Temple Cleansing” in the present volume. 72 For the case that John 12:1-8 depends directly upon the parallels in Mark and Luke see Wendy E. S. North, “The Anointing in John 12:1-8: A Tale of Two Hypotheses,” in Thatcher and Williams, Engaging with C. H. Dodd, 216–30. 73 Although in these cases John may have had independent tradition which he rewrote in part under Synoptic influence. For the complexities involved here with John 4:4654 see Ismo Dunderberg, Johannes und die Synoptiker: Studien zu Joh 1–9, AASF Dissertationes Humanarum Litterarum 69 (Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia, 1994), 74–97.
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74 For the reasons see Dale C. Allison, Jr., “It Don’t Come Easy: A History of Disillusionment,” in Jesus, History, and the Demise of Authenticity: The Rise and Fall of the Search for an Authentic Jesus. Authenticity after the Third Quest, eds. Anthony Le Donne and Chris Keith (London and New York: T&T Clark, 2012), 173–85. 75 See Dale C. Allison, Jr., Constructing Jesus: Memory, History, and Imagination (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2010). Cf. Gerd Theissen and Annette Merz, “The Delay of the Parousia as a Test Case for the Criterion of Coherence,” LS 32 (2007): 54: “Elements which recur and correspond to one another in different independent currents of tradition and forms (and are thus numerously attested), may be due to an effect made by the historical Jesus.” 76 See further George Parsenios, “How and in What Ways Does John’s Rhetoric Reflect Jesus’ Rhetoric,” in the present volume. 77 Nils Dahl, The Crucified Messiah and Other Essays (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1974), 67. Cf. William O. Walker, “The Quest for the Historical Jesus: A Discussion of Methodology,” ATR 51 (1969): 50: “If the early Church did, in fact, create traditions about Jesus (and it surely did), it would no doubt have attempted, at least for the most part, to create such traditions as would fit ‘reasonably well’ into the general picture of Jesus which it had received through the prior traditions.” 78 Meier, Mentor, Message, and Miracles, 798–832. 79 Ibid., 831. 80 Ibid. 81 Cf. the caution of Andrew T. Lincoln, “‘We Know that His Testimony is True’: Johannine Truth Claims and Historicity,” in John, Jesus, and History, Volume 1: Critical Appraisals of Critical Views, eds. Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, and Tom Thatcher, SBL Symposium Series 44 (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2007), 190–91, after discussing whether Jesus baptized or not: “Where the evidence is so meager, as it is here in the examination of the early part of Jesus’ career, it would be presumptuous to come down firmly on one side or the other of the argument about historicity. The discussion may have some value, however, if it has indicated that even in this case, frequently held to be one of the few places where Johannine material has a greater claim to authenticity than the Synoptics, such a claim can involve no more than a possibility.” 82 Origen, Cels. 1.41 (ed. Marcovich, 42). Some have misunderstood my stance here. For example, John P. Meier, A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus, Volume V: Probing the Authenticity of the Parables, ABRL (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2016), 27, n. 28, takes me to be “skeptical about every individual saying and deed of Jesus” and so to imply that “any and indeed all of them might be inventions of the early church and/or the Evangelists.” I do not operate and never have operated from a general skepticism regarding our earliest sources; rather I have approached them with an open-minded agnosticism and a seasoned disbelief in our ability to achieve as much as we often claim to achieve. I certainly have never thought nor anywhere written that everything “might be inventions of the early church.” I instead have claimed that “the historicity of most—not all—of the events associated with Jesus and the origin of most—not all—of the sayings attributed to him will always fall woefully short of demonstration” (Constructing Jesus, 22). Ironically, my view lines up well with Meier’s own conclusions about the narrative parables: he deems only four out of more than thirty-five (in Mark, Q, M, and L) to be authenticated by his criteria and holds that “many of the parables lie in the literary limbo of non liquet” (367). In other words, the authenticity of most but not all of the parables falls short of demonstration. It was precisely this sort of limited conclusion that moved me, unlike Meier, to set aside the standard criteria in favor of something else.
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83 D. Moody Smith, John among the Gospels, 2nd ed. (Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 2001), 203. 84 Smith, John among the Gospels, 216–19. 85 So too, for example, E. P. Sanders, The Historical Figure of Jesus (London: Penguin, 1993), 67. He goes on, however: “I would like to accept John’s account of the Jewish trial because it is so much more believable than the Synoptic trial, but it would be arbitrary to choose this part if I cannot show that a good source underlines John 18:12f., 24, and I cannot,” 72. 86 Dahl, “Passion Narrative,” 44. 87 Smith, John, 204. On the difficulties, however, of using the reference to “forty-six years” in John 2:20 see R. Alan Culpepper, “John 2:20, ‘Forty-Six Years’: Revisiting J. A. T. Robinson’s Chronology of Jesus’ Ministry,” in the present volume. 88 E. P. Sanders, Judaism: Practice and Belief 63 BCE – 66 CE (London and Philadelphia: SCM/Trinity Press Intl., 1992), 127. Cf. Luke 2:41: Jesus’ parents went to Jerusalem for Passover every year. 89 For reasons of space, I here leave out of account discussion of the Synoptic texts often taken to hint at a longer public ministry—Mark 14:49 (“Day after day I was with you as I taught in the Temple, and you did not lay hands on me”); Matt 23:37 = Luke 13:34 (“How often would I have gathered your children together”); Luke 4:44 (“He continued proclaiming the message in the synagogues of Judea”). 90 Cf. the related arguments in Streeter, Four Gospels, 421, and Paula Fredriksen, “The Historical Jesus, the Scene in the Temple, and the Gospel of John,” in Anderson et al., eds., John, Jesus, and History, Volume 1, 268. 91 See n. 92. What Mark makes of the prophecy is unclear since it is second hand and attributed to “false witnesses” (14:57-59). There is no such ambiguity in John, where Jesus himself speaks the words. 92 The content of Mark 13:2 (“There will not be left here one stone upon another, that will not be thrown down”) and 14:58 (“I will destroy this Temple that is made with hands, and in three days I will build another, not made with hands”) is not the same, and the former does not give us the setting for the latter. 93 Cf. also Acts 6:14 (“Jesus of Nazareth will destroy this place”); Gos. Thom. 71 (“I shall destroy this house”). 94 Sanders, Figure, 68–69. 95 Including the relationship of some of Jesus’ disciples to John the Baptist and the trial before Pilate. 96 Meier, Parables, 369. 97 See Allison, Constructing Jesus, 31–164. 98 For an introduction to this field of study and bibliography see Lorne L. Dawson, “Prophetic Failure in Millennial Movements,” in The Oxford Handbook of Millennialism, ed. Catherine Wessinger (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011), 150–70. 99 See E. P. Sanders, Jesus and Judaism (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985), 61–76; Dale C. Allison, Jr., Jesus of Nazareth: Millenarian Prophet (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1998), 97–101. 100 Cf. also the consciousness of post-Easter reinterpretation in 16:12-13: “I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things that are to come” (cf. 14:25-26). 101 I leave aside the vexed issue of v. 25 and whether it is part and parcel of the so-called realized eschatology of vv. 21–24 or, like vv. 28–29, adverts to the general
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Notes to pages 66–71 resurrection of the dead or—in line with Origen, Comm. Matt. ed. Klostermann frag. 139 (287); Hugo Grotius, Annotationes in Libros Evangeliorum (Amsterdam: Ioh. & Cornelium, 1641), 894; Edward Gordon Selwyn, The First Epistle of St. Peter (London: Macmillan & Co., 1949), 346–50; and Heinz-Jürgen Vogels, Christi Abstieg ins Totenreich und das Läuterungsgericht an den Toten: Eine bibeltheologisch-dogmatische Untersuchung zum Glaubensartikel “descendit ad inferos,” Freiburger theologische Studien 102 (Freiburg, Basel, and Vienna: Herder, 1976), 51–58—refers to some event in the immediate future (suggestions have included the raising of Lazarus, the descent into Hades, and the story in Matt 27:51-53). Matt 16:27; 24:30; 25:31; Mark 8:38; 13:26; 13:26; Luke 9:26; 21:27. C. H. Dodd, The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1953), 396. On this saying and its relationship to Mark 9:1 see my forthcoming article, “‘Jesus did not say to him that he would not die’: John 21:20-23 and Mark 9:1,” in John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 4, ed. Paul N. Anderson (Atlanta: SBL, forthcoming). This understanding of John explains why, despite the Synoptic emphasis upon “the Kingdom of God,” John uses the term only twice (John 3:3, 5): it was for the Evangelist too closely aligned with frustrated expectations. For the reservations of others with regard to recent push to find more history in John see James G. Crossly, “Can John’s Gospel Really be Used to Reconstruct a Life of Jesus? An Assessment of Recent Trends and a Defense of a Traditional View,” in “Is This Not the Carpenter?” The Question of the Historicity of the Figure of Jesus, eds. Thomas L. Thompson and Thomas S. Verenna (Sheffield: Equinox, 2012), 163–84; Paul Foster, “Memory, Orality, and the Fourth Gospel: Three Dead-Ends in Historical Jesus Research,” JSHJ 10 (2012): 191–227; Ismo Dunderberg, “How Far Can You Go? Jesus, John, the Synoptics and Other Texts,” in Beyond the Gnostic Gospels: Studies Building on the Work of Elaine Pagels, ed. Eduard Iricinschi et al., STAC 82 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 347–66. As opposed to narrative parables, John does of course have parabolic forms; see Dodd, Tradition, 366–87. I have made this case in Allison, Constructing Jesus, 221–304. For detailed argument along these lines see Maurice Casey, Is John’s Gospel True? (London and New York: Routledge, 1996), 30–62. See among many publications his book: Anderson, Fourth Gospel and the Quest. Cf. Dodd, Historical Tradition, 432: “a stereoscopic view of the facts.” William Temple, Readings in St. John’s Gospel, First Series: I-XII (London: Macmillan & Co., 1939), xii. See Anderson, Fourth Gospel and the Quest, 127.
Chapter 3 1 John P. Meier, A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus, 5 vols. (New York: Doubleday, 1991–2016), 1:167–201. 2 Adele Reinhartz, “Building Skyscrapers on Toothpicks: The Literary-critical Challenge to Historical Criticism,” in Anatomies of Narrative Criticism: The Past, Present, and Futures of the Fourth Gospel as Literature, eds. Tom Thatcher and Stephen D. Moore, RBS 55 (Leiden: Brill, 2008), 55–76, and in the same volume, Collen Conway, “There and Back Again: Johannine History on the Other Side of Literary Criticism,” in
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Anatomies of Narrative Criticism: The Past, Present, and Futures of the Fourth Gospel as Literature, ed. Tom Thatcher and Stephen D. Moore (SBL Resources for Biblical Study 55; Atlanta: SBL, 2008), 77–91. D. Moody Smith, “The Problem of History in John,” in What We Have Heard from the Beginning: The Past, Present and Future of Johannine Studies, ed. Tom Thatcher (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2007), 311–20. Harold W. Attridge, “Genre Matters,” in The Gospel of John as a Genre Mosaic, June 2014, ed. Kasper Bro Larsen, Studia Aarhusiana Neotestamentica 3 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2015), 27–46. See Richard Burridge, What are the Gospels: A Comparison with Greco-Roman Biography, 2nd rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004); idem, “Genres of the Old and New Testaments: Gospels,” in The Oxford Handbook of Biblical Studies, eds. John Rogerson and Judith M. Lieu (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), 432–44. Most recently on the complexity of the genre in general, see Thomas Hägg, The Art of Biography in Antiquity (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012). Samuel Byrskog, Story as History – History as Story: The Gospel Tradition in the Context of Ancient Oral History, WUNT 2.106 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2000); Richard Bauckham, Jesus and the Gospels: The Gospels as Eyewitness Testimony (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006). For classicists, see Joseph Farrell, “Classical Genre in Theory and Practice,” New Literary History 34.3, Theorizing Genres II (2003): 383–408. For Jewish literature of the Second Temple period, see Hindy Najman, “The Idea of Biblical Genre: From Discourse to Constellation,” in Prayer and Poetry in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature: Essays in Honor of Eileen Schuller on the Occasion of Her 65th Birthday, eds. Jeremy Penner, Ken M. Penner, and Cecilia Wassen (Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2012), 307–322; and Carol Newsom, “Pairing Research Questions and Theories of Genre: A Case Study of the Hodayot,” DSD 17 (2010): 437–50; idem, “Spying Out the Land: A Report from Genealogy,” in Seeking Out the Wisdom of the Ancients, eds. R. Troxel, K. Friebel, and D. Margy (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005), 437–50. For an earlier use of this notion, attending primarily to the use of forms within the text, see Harold W. Attridge, “Genre Bending in the Fourth Gospel,” JBL 121 (2002): 3–21, repr. in Essays on John and Hebrews, WUNT 264 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010), 31–45. See Mark Stibbe, John as Storyteller: Narrative Criticism and the Fourth Gospel, SNTSMS 73 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992); idem, The Gospel of John as Literature: An Anthology of Twentieth-Century Perspectives, NTTS 17 (Leiden, New York, and Köln: Brill, 1993); Ben Witherington, III, John’s Wisdom: A Commentary on the Fourth Gospel (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1995); Jo-Ann A. Brant, Dialogue and Drama: Elements of Greek Tragedy in the Fourth Gospel (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2004); George Parsenios, Departure and Consolation: The Johannine Farewell Discourses in Light of Greco-Roman Literature, NovTSup 117 (Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2005). For exploration of the dramatizing technique of Johannine narration, see Kasper Bro Larsen, Recognizing the Stranger: Recognition Scenes in the Gospel of John, BibInt 93 (Leiden: Brill, 2008); and George Parsenios, Rhetoric and Drama in the Johannine Lawsuit Motif, WUNT 1.258 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010). Harold W. Attridge, “The Restless Quest for the Beloved Disciple,” in Early Christian Voices: In Texts, Traditions, and Symbols: Essays in Honor of François Bovon, eds. David H. Warren, Ann Graham Brock, and David W. Pao, (BibInt 66; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 71–80, repr. in idem, Essays, 20–29.
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11 See Adela Yarbro Collins, Mark: A Commentary, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007), 147–48. 12 Matt 1:16, 18-20, 24; 2:13, 18; Luke 1:27; 2:4, 16; 3:23; 4:22. 13 On the problems with that verse, see Ulrich Luz, Matthew 1–7: A Commentary, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007), 122–24. 14 Francis Watson, Gospel Writing: A Canonical Perspective (Grand Rapids, Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 2013), 156–68. 15 See Christoph Heil, “Jesus aus Nazaret oder Bethlehem? Historische Tradition und ironischer Stil im Johannesevangelium,” in Im Geist und in der Wahrheit: Studien zum Johannesevangelium und zur Offenbarung des Johannes sowie andere Beiträge, FS M. Hasitschka, eds. Konrad Huber and Boris Repschinski, NTAbh Neue Folge 52 (Münster: Aschendorff, 2008), 109–30, esp. 115–19. Heil’s article is in general the most useful treatment of the passages in John on the birth of Jesus, although the results of my own analysis differ from his. 16 The adjective used in the titulus, Ναζωραῖος, also appears at 18:5 (where Ναζαρηνός is a variant), and 18:7, on the lips of those who arrest Jesus. Matt 2:23 explains the term as a reference to Jesus’ birthplace. Ναζαρηνός is the form used at Mark 1:24; 10:47; 14:67; 16:6; Luke 4:34; 24:19. It is possible that Ναζωραῖος does not primarily have a geographical reference. See BDAG 664b. In that case, its use in the later chapters of John may be a studied attempt to reinforce the point of the ironic play on Jesus’ origins in chapter 7. 17 Urban von Wahlde, The Gospel and Letters of John, ECC; 3 vols. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 2:203. 18 von Wahlde, The Gospel and Letters of John. 19 The passage is paralleled in Matt 12:46–50 and Luke 8:19–21, with slight variations. 20 Is there a possible allusion to the notion articulated by Paul in 1 Cor 2:8 that none of the rulers of this world (οὐδεὶς τῶν ἀρχόντων τοῦ αἰῶνος τοῦτου) understood the mystery revealed in Christ? 21 τοῦτον οἴδαμεν πόθεν ἐστίν: ὁ δὲ Χριστὸς ὅταν ἔρχηται, οὐδεὶς γινώσκει πόθεν ἐστίν. 22 Roland Deines, Jüdische Steingefässe und pharisäische Frömmigkeit: eine archäologischhistorischer Beitrag zum Verständnis von Joh 2,6 und der jüdischen Reinheitshalacha zur Zeit Jesu, WUNT 2.52 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1993); Yitzhak Magen, The Stone Vessel Industry in the Second Temple Period (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 2002), and Yonatan Adler, “Religion, Judaism: Purity in the Roman Period,” The Oxford Encyclopedia of Bible and Religion, 2 vols. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013), 2:240-49. See also Mordechai Aviam, “Distribution Maps of Archaeological Data from the Galilee: An Attempt to Establish Zones Indicative of Ethnicity and Religious Affiliation,” in Religion, Ethnicity, and Identity in Ancient Galilee: A Region in Transition, eds. Harold W. Attridge, Jürgen Zangenberg, and Dale Martin (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007), 115–32, esp. 119. 23 In this volume see the chapter by James Charlesworth on archaeology. 24 Compare the outrageous “truisms” of Heb 6:16; 7:7. 25 Hartwig Thyen, Das Johannesevangelium, HNT 6 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005), 395, citing Walter Bauer, Das Johannesevangelium erklärt, HNT 6; 3rd ed. (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1933), 36. 26 “Just as no one can explore or know what is in the depths of the sea, so no one on earth can see my Son or those who are with him, except in the time of his day.” (Trans. Lindars.) 27 For example, C. K. Barrett, The Gospel according to St. John, 2nd ed. (Philadelphia: Westminster, London: SPCK, 1978), 322; Raymond E. Brown, The Gospel According
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to John, 2 vols.; AB 29, 29a (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1966, 1970), 1:53; Barnabas Lindars, The Gospel of John, NCB (London: Oliphants; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1972), 293; Francis Moloney, John, Sacra Pagina 4 (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 1998), 248; Michael Theobald, Das Evangelium des Johannes. Kapitel 1–12, RNT (Regensburg: Friederich Pustet, 2009), 526; Marianne Meye Thompson, John: A Commentary, NTL (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2015), 172–73. Other texts occasionally cited do not really contain the motif of a hidden or unknown Messiah. They just do not specify a place of origin. These include Isa 7:14-17; Mal 3:1, a classic text taken to refer to an eschatological prophet; Dan 7:13, the vision of the Son of Man, cited by Moloney. See also Marinus de Jonge, Jesus: Stranger from Heaven and Son of God, Jesus Christ and the Christians in Johannine Perspective, SBLSBS 11 (Missoula, MT: Scholars, 1977), 77–116. Χριστὸς δὲ εἰ καὶ γεγένηται καὶ ἔστι που, ἄγνωστός ἐστι καὶ οὐδὲ αὐτὸς πω ἑαυτὸν ἐπίσταται οὐδὲ ἔχει δύναμίν τινα, μέχρις ἃν ἐλθὼν Ἠλίας χρίσῃ αὐτὸν καὶ φανερὸν πᾶσι ποιήσῃ. Brown, Gospel, 1:53. Theobald, Evangelium, 526, cites this as a possibility behind the verse, citing Erik Sjöberg, Der verborgene Menschensohn in den Evangelien, Skrifter utgivna av Kungl. humanistiska Vetenskapssamfundet i Lund 53 (Lund: Gleerup, 1955), 72–74, and Klaus Wengst, Bedrängte Gemeinde und verherrlichter Christus: Ein Versuch über das Johannes-Evangelium (3rd ed.; München: Kaiser, 1990; 4th ed., 1992), 113–15. Brown, Gospel, 1:53: He refers the reader to Sigmund Mowinckel, He That Cometh: The Messiah Concept in the Old Testament and Later Judaism (Oxford: Blackwell, 1959; repr. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005), 304–08; Ethelbert Stauffer, “Agnostos Christos,” in The Background of the New Testament and its Eschatology, eds. W. D. Davies and D. Daube (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1956), 281–99. Barrett, Gospel, 322, citing R. H. Lightfoot, St. John’s Gospel: A Commentary (Oxford: Clarendon, 1956, repr. 1983; London: Oxford University Press, 1960), and Rudolf Bultmann, The Gospel of John (Philadelphia: Westminster; Oxford: Blackwell, 1971; ET of Das Evangelium des Johannes [KEK; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1941; with the supplement of 1966, repr. 1950–86]), 296; Thompson, John, 173: “Jesus’ point here is that while looking for his identity in terms of his parentage, or his origins, they miss the fact that he can only be known in relation to the God who sent him.” Jean Zumstein, Évangile selon St. Jean, 2 vols. (Genève: Labor et Fides, 2007–14), 1:172, cites the usual texts, and describes the hidden Messiah notion as “une tradition relativement tardive dans le judaïsme antique.” He suggests that this might have been a point of debate between Johannine Christians and Jews. Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John: A Commentary, 2 vols. (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2003), 1:718. Theobald, Evangelium, 526, notes the possibility in regard to Justin, Dial. 8.4. For the figure of the Autogenes, see Ap. John (NHC II 6.10-32); Gos. Eg. (NHC III 65.5); Irenaeus, Haer. 1.29.2. As Lindars, Gospel, 293, puts it: “As usual, there is an irony here: the people know where he comes from in the literal sense, but his real origin goes unrecognized; hence Jesus does pass the test (scil. that the origin of the Messiah be unknown).” Cf. 4:14 and 19:34. οὐχ ἡ γραφὴ εἶπεν ὅτι ἐκ τοῦ σπέρματος Δαυίδ καὶ ἀπὸ Βηθλέεμ τῆς κώμης ὅπου ἦν Δαυίδ, ἔρχεται ὁ Χριστὸς;.
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38 Bruce Chilton, “Mamzerut and Jesus,” in Jesus from Judaism to Christianity: Continuum Approaches to the Historical Jesus, ed. T. Holmen, LNTS 352 (London: T&T Clark, 2007), 17–33, esp. 30–32. 39 Heil, “Nazareth,” 119–25, notes those who see John either ignorant of or rejecting the Bethlehem tradition, including: Bultmann, Gospel, 231; Jürgen Becker, Das Evangelium des Johannes, 2 vols.; 3rd ed.; ÖTK 4.1-2 (Gütersloh: Mohn; Würzburg: Echter, 1991), 1:328–29; Klaus Wengst, Das Johannesevangelium. I. Teilband: Kapitel 1–10, 2nd ed.; THKNT 4/1 (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2001–04), 1:296. Heil himself (“Nazareth,” 130) reads the Gospel as supporting an earthly origin of Jesus in Galilee. 40 Lindars, Gospel, 302–03. 41 Heil, “Nazareth,” 120, cites Christian Dietzfelbinger, Das Evangelium nach Johannes, Teilband I: Johannes 1–12; Teilband 2: Johannes 13–21 (ZBK 4.1-2; Zürich: Theologischer Verlag, 2001), 1:227, and Walter Radl, Der Ursprung Jesu: Traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zu Lukas 1–2, Herders Biblische Studien 7 (Freiburg i. Br., 1996), 365 n. 2. Heil, “Nazareth,” 121 n. 49, notes with Ulrich Wilckens, Das Evangelium nach Johannes, NTD 4 (Göttingen: Vanenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1998; 2nd ed., 2000), 136, that knowledge of a Bethlehem tradition may only represent a Jewish expectation, not the stories told in Matthew and Luke. 42 Brown, Gospel, 1:330; yet as Heil, “Nazareth,” 122 n. 57 observes, Brown is less certain of the Evangelist’s acquaintance with the tradition of Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem in his Birth of the Messiah (New York: Doubleday, 1977), 516 n. 6; Hartwig Thyen, “Ich bin das Licht der Welt: Das Ich- und Ich-Bin-Sagen Jesu im Johannesevangelium,” in idem, Studien zum Corpus Johanneum, WUNT 2.214 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007), 213– 51, esp. 233, and idem, Johannesevangelium, 409–10. See also Keener, Gospel, 1:730, “In contrast to Jesus’ hearers in the story world, the informed reader probably knows that Jesus did after all come from Bethlehem (7:42), casting the hearers’ skepticism in an ironic light,” and cites as favoring this reading (n. 265) John Painter, John: Witness and Theologian (London: SPCK, 1975; 3rd ed.; Micham, Victoria, Australia: Beacon Hill, 1986), 72–73; F. F. Bruce, The Time is Fulfilled (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1979), 41; Peter F. Ellis, The Genius of John: A Composition–Critical Commentary on the Fourth Gospel (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1984), 8; Paul D. Duke, Irony in the Fourth Gospel (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1985), 67; Hermann N. Ridderbos, The Gospel according to John: A Theological Commentary, trans. John Vriend (Grand Rapids and Cambridge: Eerdmans, 1997; ET of Het Evangelie naar Johannes: Proeve van een theologische Exegese [Kampen: Kok, 1992]), 277. 43 Heil, “Nazareth,” 122, citing B. H. Streeter, The Four Gospels: A Study of Origins: Treating of the Manuscript Tradition, Sources, Authorship and Dates (8th ed.; London: 1953), 407; Larry Hurtado, Lord Jesus Christ: Devotion to Jesus in Earliest Christianity (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 360. 44 Richard Bauckham, The Gospels for All Christians: Rethinking the Gospel Audiences (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998). 45 Rudolf Schnackenburg, Das Johannesevangelium, 4 vols.; HThKNT 4.1-4 (Freiburg: Herder, 1965–84); ET: The Gospel according to St. John, trans. Kevin Smyth; 3 vols. (London: Burns & Oates; New York: Crossroad, 1968–82), 2:220. 46 Keener, Gospel, 719 n. 151. 47 Leander Keck, “Derivation as Destiny: ‘Of-ness’ in Johannine Christology, Anthropology, and Soteriology,” in Exploring the Gospel of John: In honor of D. Moody Smith, eds. R. Alan Culpepper and C. Clifton Black, (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1996), 274–88.
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48 Harold W. Attridge, “Divine Sovereignty and Human Responsibility in the Fourth Gospel,” in Revealed Wisdom: FS Christopher Rowland, ed. John Ashton, AGJU 88 (Leiden and New York: Brill, 2014), 183–99. 49 Lindars, Gospel, 305, finds irony here on the grounds that Isa 9:1, cited in Matt 4:1516, could be used to defend a Galilean origin for the “light of the gentiles.” 50 On the character of Nicodemus, see Raimo Hakola, “The Burden of Ambiguity: Nicodemus and the Social Identity of the Johannine Christians,” NTS 55 (2009): 438– 55; R. Alan Culpepper, “Nicodemus: The Travail of New Birth,” in Character Studies in the Fourth Gospel: Literary Approaches to Sixty-Seven Figures in John, eds. Steven A. Hunt, D. Francois Tolmie, and Ruben Zimmermann, WUNT 2.314 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 249–59. 51 Ben F. Meyer, The Aims of Jesus (Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2002), 85. 52 Jonathan Bernier, Aposynagogos and the Historical Jesus in John: Rethinking the Historicity of the Johannine Expulsion Passages, BibInt 122 (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2013), 105.
Chapter 4 1 The present chapter is greatly dependent on several other of my already published chapters on the subject of rhetoric in the Gospel of John, especially the following: “Confounding Foes and Counseling Friends: Parrêsia in the Fourth Gospel and Greco-Roman Philosophy,” in The Prologue of the Gospel of John: Its Literary, Theological, and Philosophical Contexts. Papers Read at the Colloquium Ioanneum 2013, eds. Jan G. van der Watt, R. Alan Culpepper, and Udo Schnelle, WUNT 359 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016), 251–72; “A Sententious Silence: First Thoughts on the Fourth Gospel and the Ardens Style,” in Portraits of Jesus: Essays in Honor of Harold Attridge, ed. S. Myers, WUNT 2/321 (Tübingen; Mohr Siebeck, 2012), 1–20; “The Silent Spaces between Narrative and Drama,” in The Gospel of John as Genre Mosaic, eds. Kasper Larsen, Studia Aarhusiana Neotestamentica 3 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2015), 85–98. 2 See, for example, the essays in Chris Keith and A. Le Donne, eds., Jesus, Critieria and the Demise of Authenticity (London: T&T Clark, 2012). 3 See Dale C. Allison, Jr., Constructing Jesus: Memory, Imagination and History (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2010), 1–30 for general methodological issues, and 387–434 for the willing assent to death by Jesus. 4 NRSV. 5 David Aune, The New Testament in its Literary Environment (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox, 1985), 86–87. 6 C.K. Barrett, The Gospel according to St. John: An Introduction with Commentary and Notes on the Greek Text (London: SPCK, 1956), 187. 7 Raymond Brown, The Gospel according to John (New York: Doubleday, 1966), 1:159. 8 Parsenios, “Silent Spaces,” 85–88. 9 Diskin Clay, Platonic Questions: Dialogues with the Silent Philosopher (University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2000), 26. 10 Marcus Borg, Jesus in Contemporary Scholarship (Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press, 1994), 147. 11 Burton Mack, A Myth of Innocence: Mark and Christian Origins (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2006), 68.
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Notes to pages 88–93 Allison, Constructing Jesus, 305–86. J. A. T. Robinson, The Priority of John (London: SCM Press, 1985), 303–04. See Allison, Constructing Jesus, 305. Allison, Constructing Jesus, 305–87. From Rudyard Kipling, “The Ballad of East and West.” Translated into English by George Kennedy, Aristotle: A Theory of Civic Discourse (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991). The phrase is borrowed from Patrick Sinclair, Tacitus the Sententious Historian: A Sociology if Rhetoric in Annales 1-6 (University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1995), 33. Translation modified from that of Tacitus. Histories, I-III. transl. Clifford H. Moore; Loeb Classical Library; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1925). For similar uses of the associate plural, see Agr. 43.1, 2; 45.1-2; Dial. 1; Ann. 2.18.1; 12.33. That the phrase can be understood outside of its immediate context and, indeed, outside even of Christian theology is shown by the fact that it appears in a slightly different form in Plato’s Symposium, 179b. Linda McKinnish Bridges, “The Aphorisms of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel: A Look at John 4:35,” in John, Jesus and History: Volume 3, eds. Paul N. Anderson and Felix Just, S.J. (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2016), 337–52. C.H. Dodd, The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1965), 398. See, for example, Andrew Lincoln, Truth on Trial (Ada, MI: Baker, 2000). See, for instance, George Parsenios, Rhetoric and Drama in the Johannine Lawsuit Motif (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010). The consolatory character of these chapters has been explored by Paul Holloway, “Left Behind: Jesus’ Consolation of His Disciples in John 13-17,” ZNW 96 (2005): 1–34; George Parsenios, “Paramythetikos Christos: John Chrysostom Interprets the Johannine Farewell Discourses,” GOTR 48 (2005): 215–36; Idem, Departure and Consolation: The Johannine Farewell Discourses in Light of Greco-Roman Literature, NovTSup 117 (Leiden: Brill, 2005). Isocrates, To Nicocles, 3. P.Herc. 1082 col. II.1-3; cf. David Konstan, Philodemus: On Frank Criticism (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998). The relevant passages are as follows: 7:26: “And here he is, speaking openly, but they say nothing to him! Can it be that the authorities really know that this is the Messiah?”; 10:24: “So the Jews gathered around him and said to him, ‘How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly’”; 11:14: “Then Jesus told them plainly, ‘Lazarus is dead’”; 18:20: “Jesus answered: ‘I have spoken openly to the world; I have always taught in synagogues and in the Temple, where all the Jews come together. I have said nothing in secret.’” 11:54: “Jesus therefore no longer walked about openly among the Jews, but went from there to a town called Ephraim in the region near the wilderness; and he remained there with the disciples.” Brown writes, “During the ministry, ‘the Jews’ challenged Jesus to speak in plain words (x 24), but he claimed that the real problem was that they obstinately refused to believe what he said; this answer seems to imply that he was speaking plain words during the ministry.” The Gospel according to John, 2.734. Plutarch, How to Tell a Flatterer from a Friend, 74D. Philodemus, On Frank Speech, frg. 15.
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33 See extensive discussion in David Fredrickson, “Parrêsia in the Pauline Epistles,” in Friendship, Flattery, and Frankness of Speech: Studies on Friendship in the New Testament World, ed. John T. Fitzgerald, NovTSup 82 (Leiden: Brill, 1996), 173–75. 34 John Chrysostom, Hom. Jo. 11.3 (PG 59:417-18 /Goggin, 332). 35 See the discussion in Dale C. Allison, Jr., Resurrecting Jesus: The Earliest Christian Tradition and its Interpreters (New York: T&T Clark, 2005), 50–55.
Chapter 5 1 A major force in this regard has been the “John, Jesus, and History” Section of the SBL and its publications. Another (but, in my opinion, less successful) attempt in this direction has been the book by R. Horsley and T. Thatcher, John, Jesus, and the Renewal of Israel (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013). 2 U. C. von Wahlde, A Commentary on the Gospel and Letters of John, 3 vols. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010). The earliest stratum of material in the Gospel is what is being examined in this chapter. It is this material that provides the narrative background of the Gospel. As we will see in the following study, this material has several characteristics that appear only in this material and that have a particular relevance for determining both the verisimilitude and the potential historicity of that material. 3 R.A. Horsley, “Popular Messianic Movements around the Time of Jesus,” CBQ 46.3 (1984): 471–95, put forward a study of these figures. He attempts to single out those who claimed to be king from others who were bandits and still others who led prophetic movements (473). However, Josephus does not make that distinction but refers to some would-be kings precisely as “bandits” (lēstai), for example, Simon of Perea who is described as traveling with a group of lēstai and Judas son of Hezekiah. Hezekiah himself was described by Josephus as archilēstēs and the description is certainly meant to apply to his son. Horsley restricted himself to movements after the death of Herod and at the time leading up to the Jewish Revolt. Yet as can be seen from the list above, there were several popular movements during the intervening years also. He also seems to think that movements regarding popular kingship continued throughout the entire period. However Horsley later revises this to indicate that movements of popular kingship occurred in the first period and in the second period the movements were of a “prophetic” type. See R. Horsley, The Prophet Jesus and the Renewal of Israel (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012), 89–92. 4 The texts from Josephus are given in full to facilitate reference. All translations of Jewish War are from Thackeray, LCL. 5 Some scholars suggest that the fact that he was a shepherd was seen as a parallel to the rise of David, who had been a shepherd. 6 Citations of Josephus, Jewish Antiquities use for Books 1-3: Thackeray, LCL; Books 4-6: Thackeray and Marcus, LCL; Books 7-13: Marcus, LCL; Books 14-17: Marcus and Wikgren, LCL; Books 18-20: Feldman, LCL. 7 Josephus’ report on this individual is too long to be quoted. 8 Josephus also makes references to disturbances from about the year 54, the first year of the reign of Nero (Ant. 20.8.4-5 §158-68), continuing through the time of Porcius Festus, procurator 60–62 CE (Ant. 20.8.10 §182-88). 9 J. Murphy-O’Connor, “Why Jesus Went Back to Galilee,” BRev 12.1 (1995): 20–29, follows Mark 6:17-27 (par. Matt 14:5-10) and proposes that Herod had John arrested
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Notes to pages 104–107 because he was condemning Herod for his marriage to Herodias. However, Josephus says nothing of this. See J. P. Meier, A Marginal Jew, vol. 1, ABRL (New York: Doubleday, 1991), 1.56-88, here 81. This paraphrase of Ant. 20.9.1, and a discussion of the authenticity of the reference to James, can be found in Meier, A Marginal Jew (1:56-59). For readers who are not familiar with the method used in this analysis, a few observations may be in order. First, the identification of material of the first edition is based entirely on the application of the stated (in my commentary) criteria. Second, it should be pointed out that it is quite clear from that analysis that not all of the material of the first edition has been preserved in the current Gospel. Third, one should not be surprised if material that “one would expect to be present in such a gospel” is not present. Such expectations will inevitably vary from interpreter to interpreter and are not an objective basis for the identification of material. In my Commentary I proposed twenty-eight characteristic features by which the material of the first edition can be determined, these include differences in theological terminology, in narrative orientation and in theological perspective. For a complete analysis of the material, see von Wahlde, Commentary, 1:57-135. These are gaps created in the editing process by the second author. Today there are two contenders for identification of the site. Bargil Pixner, With Jesus Through Galilee According to the Fifth Gospel (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 1996), 20–210, and Rainer Riesner, “Bethany Beyond the Jordan,” in ABD 1, ed. David N. Freedman (New York: Doubleday, 1992), 703–05, argue for a location in Batanea in the far northeast part of the country. This is a region rather than a town and the arguments are literary rather than archaeological. In addition, the source of the water in such a large area is not specified. The majority of scholars argue for a southern location, on the east side of the Jordan about five miles north of its entry into the Dead Sea, opposite Jericho, in the Wadi Al Kharrar. This is the site suggested by Origen but identified as Bethabara. The archaeological evidence is spelled out in Michele Piccirillo, “The Sanctuaries of the Baptism on the East Bank of the Jordan River,” in Jesus and Archaeology, ed. James H. Charlesworth (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006), 433–43. This is one of the enduring puzzles of the Gospel. There have been many proposals. Perhaps the most popular is that it is the “disciple whom Jesus loved.” Bargil Pixner, “Searching for the New Testament Site of Bethesda,” BA 48 (1985): 207–16, is credited with having been the first to make the case convincingly that the site should be identified with et-Tell. Nevertheless, before the excavations of R. Arav and R. Freund, there was disagreement whether the town was to be identified with et-Tell and el-Araj. Arav and Freund have been in charge of the excavations since 1987 and have authored several books regarding the site. See also U. C. von Wahlde, “Archaeology and John’s Gospel,” in Jesus and Archaeology, ed. James H. Charlesworth (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006), 523–86, here 533–38. The first to articulate this conclusion to be drawn from Jesus’ signs is Nicodemus (3:2) as we shall shortly see. But it becomes a major issue again among the Pharisees, following the healing of the man born blind (9:16, 32-33). Stone vessels have been found throughout Galilee. See Jonathan L. Reed, Archaeology and the Galilean Jesus (Harrisburg: Trinity, 2000), 44–51. On the stone vessel industry in general, see Yitzhak Magan, “Jerusalem as a Center of the Stone Vessel Industry during the Second Temple Period,” in Ancient Jerusalem Revealed, ed. Hillel Geva
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(Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1994), 244–56; idem, “The Stone Vessel Industry During the Second Temple Period,” in Purity Broke Out in Israel (Tractate Shabbat, 13b): Stone Vessels in the Late Second Temple Period, Catalogue 9, The Reuben and Edith Hecht Museum (Haifa: University of Haifa, 1994), 6–26; idem, “Ancient Israel’s Stone Age: Purity in Second Temple Time,” BAR 24.5 (1998): 46–52. For a recent account of excavations at Khirbet Kana, see Tom McCullough, “Searching for Cana: Where Jesus Turned Water into Wine,” BAR 41.6 (2015): 30–39. For a fascinating account of how the identification of biblical Cana with Khirbet Kana was erroneously transferred to Kefr Kenna between the years 1620 and 1640, see J. Herrojo, Caná de Galilea y su localización: Un examen crítico de las fuentes (Paris: J. Gabalda, 1999). See also von Wahlde, “Archaeology,” 538–42. It is important to remember that there is no trace of any such incident in the material of the first edition. Certainly such action as the disruption of the selling and money changing in the Temple would have been looked upon with extreme hostility by the religious authorities. Many scholars think that such an action by itself could well have impelled the religious authorities and/or the Romans to have Jesus punished in some significant way, perhaps by scourging. If we are looking for actions performed by Jesus that would come close to actions performed by the revolutionaries mentioned by Josephus, this is it. However, if we confine our investigation to the material of the first edition, we must disregard any report of this event. See also at 7:31-32; 9:13-17; 11:45-47; 12:9-11. Some argue for Tel Salim, where there are several springs within 300 meters of the site. The most probable location is that suggested by William F. Albright, “Recent Discoveries in Palestine and the Gospel of St. John,” in The Background of the New Testament and its Eschatology, eds. W. D. Davies and D. Daube (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1956), 153–71. This site is also favored by J. Murphy-O’Connor, The Holy Land, 5th ed. (Oxford: The University, 2008), 423, who points to the continued existence of a town by that name near Mt. Gerizim and a series of five springs near the base of Mt. Gerizim. See also von Wahlde, “Archaeology,” 555–56. Examples from the second edition include the following: in 7:30 we read: “Then they tried to seize him and no one was able to lay a hand on him, because his hour had not yet come.” The same reason is given for his getting safely away in 8:20. When people attempt to stone him (8:59), Jesus hides himself and departs from the Temple. In 10:39, the means of Jesus’ escape is less clear but apparently not “natural.”: “[So] they sought again to seize him and he escaped their grasp.” In 12:36 we read something similar: “Jesus said these things, and departing, he hid himself from them.” “Again, there was a confrontation between Galileans and Samaritans at a village called Gema, situated in the Great Plain of Samaria. A large group of Jews was going up to the festival and a Galilean was killed.” Archaeology has not been helpful in the identification of the site; however, the proximity of the town to Jacob’s Well, as well as early pilgrim reports, would argue for Aschar. See von Wahlde, “Archaeology,” 556–59. Some scholars read the Greek of v. 54 to mean that Jesus’ healing of the official’s son was simply the second sign reported in detail and not the second sign performed during the trip. However, the evidence is sufficient to warrant the reading that I have given. First, this reading provides a proper grammatical reading of the words in question. Second, Jesus’ telling of the woman’s past provokes the same kind of reaction as do his signs, namely that the woman believes and then she tells the townspeople about Jesus, and they also believe. For example, we see that the official believes and also his
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Notes to pages 112–113 household. Earlier, Andrew had believed and he got Peter; Philip believed and got Nathanael. Later many will believe after the raising of Lazarus, and, on the basis of their report, still others come to believe (cf. 11:45; 12:9-11). In addition, the formulaic statement that expresses the belief of the townspeople is found repeatedly as a reaction to Jesus’ signs. See, for example, 2:23; 7:31; 10:41-42; 11:45; 12:11, 42. Some scholars identify this “official” with the Roman centurion whose son is healed according to the similar accounts in the Synoptics. However, this is not stated in the Johannine text. In any event, the man was of sufficient social standing to have a “household.” In ch. 4, Jesus is in Cana of Galilee and has just arrived there. At the beginning of chapter 5, Jesus is said to go up to Jerusalem for a feast. However, the feast is unnamed. The only reference is to the Sabbath in 5:9a. In addition, this is the only miracle in the Gospel that has no indication of belief after the miracle. However, at the beginning of ch. 6, Jesus is said to be in Galilee, without any mention of a trip back there after the feast in Jerusalem. We also learn from 6:4 that Passover is near. Yet, there is no mention of the actual arrival of this Passover. However, if chapters 5 and 6 are reversed, all of these problems would be resolved. Scholars have observed this possibility and have provided several possible explanations including the possibility that the chapters have been accidentally reversed. But there is now an explanation that argues not only for the present order in the present Gospel but also for the reversal of the present order in the original. The reversal of order took place during the composition of the second edition of the Gospel. It can be noticed that in 5:31-40 (i.e., material of the second edition), Jesus presents a listing of four “witnesses” to the truth of his claims to have been given the two powers distinctive of God (5:19-30). These four witnesses are: (1) the witness of John the Baptist; (2) the witness of the works, not “signs,” of Jesus; (3) the witness of Jesus’ words to himself; and (4) the witness of Scripture. As I have shown in my commentary, each of the major discourses following ch. 5 develops one of the three essential witnesses (as is said in 5:34, Jesus does not have need of the human witness of John). In the discourse of 6:30-59, Jesus explains by means of an exegetical homily one instance of how Scripture witnesses to him. In the discourse of 8:12-59, he shows how his word witnesses to him (cf. the reference to the Jewish rule of witness in 8:13-18). In the discourse of 10:22-39, Jesus develops the theme of how his works witness to him (cf. 10:25, 32-33). All of this was done at the time of the second edition. However, the method of the second author now becomes clear. He reversed the order of the miracles in chapters 5 and 6. By doing so, he was able to use the feeding of the multitude to show Jesus’ ability to give bread to those in need. This narrative then serves as the foundation for his discourse on how the Scriptures witness to him. It is a remarkable organization but disrupts the original sequence of the material of the first edition. (The reversal of the order of chapters 5 and 6 also had another benefit. The second author expanded the account of the healing at the Pool of Bethesda by words of possible judgment addressed to the healed man, specifically, that if he sinned again “something worse might befall him.” Thus this “sign,” together with the sign in 4:46-54 symbolized the two powers of Jesus described in 5:1-30: the power to give life and the power to judge.) The identity and location of this mountain is not known beyond traditional claims that cannot be verified. As is the case, with the mention of “Cana,” the designation of the Sea as “of Tiberias” is introduced in the earliest material but then referenced in ch. 21. It was given this name in honor of Tiberius Caesar, probably shortly after the construction of the city of Tiberias in 20 CE. See von Wahlde, “Archaeology,” 566–68.
Notes to pages 114–121
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31 For a detailed discussion, see von Wahlde, “Archaeology,” 543–48. 32 Joachim Jeremias, The Rediscovery of Bethesda, John 5:2, New Testament Archaeology Monographs 1 (Louisville: Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, 1966), 11–12. Prior to this time, the site of the Birkat Bani Israel (The Pool of the Children of Israel), about three hundred meters to the south, had been identified as the Pool of Bethesda. 33 See for example, S. Gibson, “The Pool of Bethesda in Jerusalem and Jewish Purification Practices of the Second Temple Period,” POC 55 (2005): 270–93; Urban C. von Wahlde, “The Puzzling Pool of Bethesda,” BAR 37.5 (2011): 40–47, 65; also idem, “The Great Public Miqvaot at Bethesda and Siloam: The Development of Jewish Attitudes Toward Ritual Purity in Late Second Temple Judaism,” in Rediscovering John, ed. L. D. Chrupcala (Milano: Editioni Terra Santa, 2013), 267–82. 34 In the present version of the Gospel, the miracle has been developed in two directions. First, according to the words of Jesus to the man it is made to symbolize Jesus’ ability to judge, one of the two powers given to him by the Father. Second, when Jesus is accused of breaking the Sabbath, he provides an explanation that reveals his claim to equality with the Father. 35 “Temple police” is a common translation of the Greek word hypēretai. The meaning however is more general and can mean “attendants.” In Luke 4:20, when Jesus is finished reading the scroll in the synagogue, he rolls it up and gives it to the “attendant.” 36 I have detailed the evidence for this in my article “The Relationships Between Pharisees and Chief Priests: Some Observations on the Texts in Matthew, John, and Josephus,” NTS 42.4 (1996): 506–22. The argument for its authenticity is relatively simple: It is not a Johannine invention because it appears in Matthew; it is not a Christian invention because it appears in Josephus. In Josephus it appears in a consistent pattern, namely they join together only in times of crisis. 37 See S. Talmon, “The Judean ‘am ha’aretz in Historical Perspective,” in Fourth World Congress of Jewish Studies, ed. Shaul Shaked. 2 vols. (Jerusalem: World Union of Jewish Studies, 1967–68) 1:71-76; A. Oppenheimer, The ’Am Ha-Aretz (Leiden: Brill, 1977). 38 Josephus, J.W. 2.17.3 §411; Life 5 §21. See also von Wahlde, “Relationships,” 507–58. 39 See H. Shanks, “The Siloam Pool: Where Jesus Cured the Blind Man,” BAR 31.5 (2005): 16–23; von Wahlde, “Archaeology,” 568–70; idem, “The ‘Upper Pool,’ Its ‘Conduit’ and ‘the Highway of the Fuller’s Field’ in Eighth-Century BCE Jerusalem and Their Significance for the Pools of Bethesda and Siloam,” RB 113.2 (2006): 242–62; idem, “The New Discoveries Near the Pool of Siloam and Some Observations on Their Importance for the Gospel of John,” in John, Jesus, and History, vol. 2 (Atlanta: Scholars, 2009), 155–73. 40 Not to be confused with the actual tomb of Herod in the Herodium. 41 See for example, Urban C. von Wahlde, “A Rolling Stone That Was Hard to Roll,” BAR 41.2 (2015): 26. 42 A person needs only to see, for example, the rolling stone at the Tomb of the Queen of Adiabene, just north of the Old City of Jerusalem, to understand the difference both in construction and also in the effort used to move/remove the closure. 43 In all three cases, the identifying feature of the people is that they are an ethnos, a laos, and a phylon. These are ethnic rather than religious identifications. 44 Harold W. Attridge, “John, Jesus, and Philosophy” (paper delivered at “John and Judaism: A Symposium,” McAfee School of Theology, Mercer University, Atlanta, GA, November 19, 2015). See also Raimo Hakola, “The Counsel of Caiaphas and the Social Identity of the Johannine Community (John 11:46–53),” in Lux Humana, Lux Aeterna:
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Notes to pages 121–127 Essays on Biblical and Related Themes in Honour of Lars Aejmelaeus, Publications of the Finnish Exegetical Society 89, eds. A. Mustakallio in collaboration with H. Leppä and H. Räisänen (Helsinki, Göttingen: Finnish Exegetical Society, Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2005), 140–63. It must be remembered that the written accounts of these debates all postdate the first century. It is also important to recall that the Gospel’s statement about the words being an unconscious prophecy were not part of the earliest stratum of the Gospel. Notice that in the material of the first edition, when danger presents itself, Jesus escapes by going to another, safer place. In the later material, Jesus escapes due to some divine action (“because his hour had not yet come” (7:30; 8:20); “but Jesus hid himself and departed from the Temple” (8:59); “[So] they sought again to seize him and he escaped their grasp” (10:39); “Jesus said these things, and departing, he hid himself from them” (12:36). For other references see Hermann Leberecht Strack and Paul Billerbeck, Kommentar Zum Neuen Testament Aus Talmud Und Midrasch, V1, Part 2 (Munich: Kessinger, 1922), 546. For a full discussion, see R. Schnackenburg, The Gospel according to St. John, vol. 1 (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966); vols. 2, 3 (New York: Crossroad, 1980–82), here 2.351. There is uncertainty about the actual size of crowds in Jerusalem for feasts such as Passover. Josephus reported that just before the war, the priests counted 255,600 lambs sacrificed for Passover, estimating that a lamb was shared by ten persons; he estimated that there were 2,700,000 persons in Jerusalem for the feast (J.W. 6.9.3 §420-27). This is generally considered much too large. For a helpful discussion see E. P. Sanders, Judaism: Practice and Belief 63 BCE-66 CE (Philadelphia: Trinity, 1992), 125–28. The garden is neither identified as an olive grove, nor by its name “Gethsemane.” This is somewhat curious since the author of the first edition is usually quite detailed in his identification of the places where various events take place. We will see shortly that there are indications that Jesus (and most of his disciples) had gone into the cave in the garden, a detail that is both accurate and remarkably understated. Joan E. Taylor, “The Garden of Gethsemane: Not the Place of Jesus’ Arrest,” BAR 21.4 (1995): 26–35, 62. The cave has been altered considerably over the millennia, including a new entrance, accessible down a long alley alongside the (traditional) Tomb of Mary. Taylor provides a well-researched study of the topography as well as of pilgrim accounts describing the cave in earlier configurations. A notable relic from the earliest days of the cave is a notch cut into the south wall in what is now the sanctuary of the main altar. This notch, which now serves to hold the cruets of wine and water for the Masses celebrated there, was probably cut out to hold the beam of an olive press in the open part of the cave. A peculiarity of the scene is that Jesus’ disciples were not arrested along with him. At the very least one would expect Peter to be arrested for having resisted violently in cutting off one of the servants ears. Raymond Brown, Death of the Messiah, vol. l (New York: Doubleday, 1998), 290–91, proposes that this was an indication that for the Evangelist, the attitude of the arresting party was not to counter a movement but only to arrest a single offender: Jesus. However, the fact that a cohort comes to arrest Jesus suggests that the arresting party was expecting resistance. We have seen that the Sanhedrin condemned Jesus for posing a risk of Roman intervention against the nation. In addition, the fact that in all of the Gospels, Jesus is accused of being “the King of the Jews” indicates that the charge before the Romans was a political
Notes to pages 128–130
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one, in spite of the charges that are introduced in the second edition that Jesus was a blasphemer (19:6b-12). A. N. Sherwin-White, “The Trial of Christ,” in Historicity and Chronology in the New Testament, Theological Collections 6 (London: SPCK, 1965), 97–116, 114. There are two excellent discussions of various proposals for reconciling the Synoptic and Johannine chronologies concerning the relation of the death of Jesus to the occurrence of Passover. The first is that of Meier, A Marginal Jew, 1:386-401, published in 1991. Meier himself opts for the likelihood that the Johannine chronology is the correct one. The second treatment, published two years later, is that of Raymond Brown, The Death of the Messiah, 2 vols. (New York: Doubleday, 1993) 2:1350–73. Brown also reaches the conclusion that of the two chronologies, the Johannine is the one to be preferred as more likely to be historical. It should be noted that there is no indication in this material that there was a large crowd of citizens involved in these proceedings. It was, to all appearances, a relatively small group of the most important religious authorities. Although Pilate was known to be ruthless, there is historical precedent for his acceding to the religious sensitivities of the Jews. The most well-known incident was his bringing of the Roman standards bearing effigies of the emperor into Jerusalem soon after he was appointed prefect. Although Pilate’s acquiescence came after the most difficult negotiations, he did agree to remove the standards. (See Josephus, J.W. 2.9.2 §169-74; Ant. 18:3.1 §55-59). The release of the body of Jesus for burial earlier than normal because of the impending Passover would also seem to be an example of this. It is useful to point out that in the second edition, when Jesus is brought up on the accusation of opposition to Caesar, “the Jews” interject charges of blasphemy at a time in the trial when it would have been out of place (19:6b-12). As Craig Keener, The Gospel of John (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2003), 1117, reports that it was not uncommon for the Romans to grant amnesty in special situations. This would, as Keener concludes, make it “plausible” that such a custom existed also in the Roman province of Judea. Brown (Death, 1:814-20) examines the issue exhaustively and is less positive in his conclusion: “there is no good analogy supporting the historical likelihood of the custom in Judea of regularly releasing a prisoner at a/the feast (of Passover) as described in three Gospels” (818). Brown (Death, 1:283) comments, “Let me remark that the attempt to use the present passage [Mark 15:7] or other PN [Passion Narrative] references to lēstai to show that historically Jesus was or was considered to be a revolutionary is simplistic and anachronistic.” The evidence upon which Brown relies is that there are no reports of such movements in Josephus during the period of Jesus’ ministry. Brown also holds that in the period in which the gospels were written such lēstai might have been associated with the armed groups during the revolt of 66–70 CE. I would disagree. The fact that Josephus does not mention lēstai from the period of Jesus’ ministry does not mean that they did not exist. If we recall 11:45-50, the Sanhedrin had condemned Jesus so that the Romans would not take action against the nation. That indicates the perceived mentality of the Romans at the time. That together with the fact that Jesus was charged with a political crime (claiming to be the king of the Jews), indicates that Jesus was being charged with being a political threat. That does not seem to be simplistic or anachronistic. The movement of Pilate in and out of the Praetorium is consistent up to this point. Now we hear that Pilate leads Jesus out (without “going in”). Either there is an omission of text that accounts for this or, as I have understood it, Pilate leads him further out to the place of formal announcement of the verdict.
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61 J. Taylor, “Missing Magdala and the Name of Mary ‘Magdalene’,” PEQ 146.3 (2014): 205–23. 62 In 2009, the remains of a first century synagogue were discovered in Migdal (Magdala) on the property of the Legionaries of Christ who are building a compound for pilgrims and tourists. This site is five miles north of Tiberias and not to be confused with Migdal-Nunyia. For a preliminary discussion of excavations, see Joey Corbett, “New Synagogue Excavations in Israel and Beyond,” BAR 37.4 (2011): 52–57. 63 The gate has a peculiar configuration in that it is essentially the overlap of two walls with space in between them. Thus the gate would not be set into the wall but rather bridge the gap created by the overlap. Nevertheless, the proposal by Avigad has received general acceptance. See N. Avigad, Discovering Jerusalem (Nashville: Nelson, 1983), 69 and the plan of the area on page 50. 64 The site is located about five kilometers north of Tiberias. It was a well-developed town with orthogonal streets and a large harbor. It contains a synagogue from the first century. The most remarkable single item found at the site is a carved stone table with one of the earliest depictions of the menorah from the Jerusalem Temple. See Stefano De Luca and Anna Lena, “The Harbor of the City of Magdala/Taricheae on the Shores of the Sea of Galilee, from the Hellenistic to the Byzantine Times: New Discoveries and Preliminary Results,” in Harbors and Harbor Cities in the Eastern Mediterranean from Antiquity to the Byzantine Period: Recent Discoveries and Current Approaches, eds. S. Ladstätter, F. Pirson, and T. Schmidts (Istanbul: Zero Books, 2011), 113–64. See also J. Corbett, “New Synagogue Excavations in Israel and Beyond,” BAR 37.4 (2011): 52–59 with excellent photos of the carved stone table, the synagogue and mooring rings in the harbor. For a preliminary interpretation of the meaning of the stone table, see M. Aviam, “The Decorated Stone from the Synagogue at Migdal: A Holistic Interpretation and a Glimpse into the Life of Galilean Jews at the Time of Jesus,” NovT 55.1 (2013): 205–20. 65 An archisolium niche was one in which the wall of the tomb was cut out to create a shallow opening with an arch at the top, in which the body lay parallel to the wall with the length of the body exposed. A kokh-type niche was one that was deep and perpendicular to the face of the wall but only of sufficient width and height to accommodate the body. 66 We learned earlier that the crucifixion took place in a garden (19:41). 67 The added participial phrase reads “and that believing you may have eternal life in his name” (kai hina pisteuontes zōēn echēte en tō onomati autou). The notion of “eternal life” is central to the second edition of the Gospel but totally absent from the first. 68 There has been a major discussion among scholars about the precise form of the verb for “believe” (pisteuō) because of manuscript variations. Some favor the view that the form is the present subjunctive and meant to indicate a continuance of belief that already exists. Others argue that it is the aorist subjunctive which would indicate that their purpose was that the readers come to belief. In the light of the overall theology of this earliest material, the decision becomes easier, since this material throughout has focuses on coming to belief among many and the failure to believe on the part of the religious authorities. 69 In the second edition of the Gospel, the author would provide a much broader and more complex basis for faith than simply signs. We read in 5:31-40 that there are four witnesses to (“proofs for the claims of ”) Jesus: (1) the witness of John the Baptist, (2) the witness of the works of Jesus (the theological equivalent of what are described as the “signs” of the first edition), (3) the words of Jesus, and (4) the witness of Scripture. This is a much richer and more adequate presentation of those factors which “prove”
Notes to pages 138–142
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the claims of Jesus than that of the first edition. Clearly the first edition selected only the signs; these were what were most important to that author and, according to the author of the first edition, to the Jews of the first century. The quotation is from Horsley, Prophet Jesus, 83. Horsley refers to his book Jesus and the Spiral of Violence (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1987), esp. chapters 2, 3, 4, for more detail. Horsley, Prophet Jesus, 90–91. In his book The Prophet Jesus, Horsley comments: “Because ordinary people, who are usually non-literate, do not leave written sources for their life and views, we usually have no evidence except the often-hostile reports of the literate elite. And those reports often come when people disrupt the established order. The Judean historian Josephus provides just such hostile accounts of many popular protests and movements among the Galilean, Samaritan, and Judean villagers around the time of Jesus. It is necessary to read critically through his hostility. By doing so we not only have access to the popular movements but also to the Israelite popular tradition in which they were rooted and whose currency they attest in the society at the time of Jesus” (88). Horsley, Prophet Jesus, 92–93. However, it should be pointed out that this occurs only once in the earliest stratum of the Gospel while in the second edition, “the Jews” (hoi Ioudaioi) repeatedly attempted to kill Jesus (cf. 5:18-19) and specifically to stone him (8:59; 10:31-33; 11:8) yet he escaped, usually by supernatural action. In contrast with the material of the first edition, there are almost no such references in the second edition of the Gospel. The following is a listing of possible (but unlikely) candidates: 2:18-22—reference to the fact that it had been forty-six years since Herod had begun the expansion of the Temple; 4:20—mention of Mt. Gerizim and the dispute about worship between Samaritans and Jews; 19:12—the term “friend of Caesar”; 19:31—the practice of crurifragium. At the same time, the level of argument and thought (and Christology) is markedly more sophisticated in the material of the second edition. The following is a sampling: 1:19; 5:31-40; 8:13—the Jewish notion of “witness”; 5:18-19—rabbinic debate whether Yahweh could work on the Sabbath; 5:1819—accusation of blasphemy, calling God his own father, making himself equal to God; 5:41—the notion of seeking glory; 6:30-50—the pattern of homiletical exegesis; 7:21—question of permissibility of circumcision on the Sabbath; 9:2-3—the question whether blindness was caused by sin; 9:18-23—exclusion from the synagogue for confession of Jesus; 10:33—accusation of blasphemy, (you who are a human make yourself God); 11:51—because Caiaphas is high priest, his words are a prophecy; 13:811: washing of feet as symbol of purification; 13:31-17:26—farewell speech genre. One excellent candidate for such inquiry is the chronology of the crucifixion as presented in John, a chronology that many scholars now think is historically accurate.
Chapter 6 1 This essay is presented in honor of Prof. James H. Charlesworth, whom I first met when I enrolled in the Ph.D. program at Duke in the fall of 1970, forty-six years prior to this symposium. 2 Dean Emeritus and Professor of New Testament Emeritus, McAfee School of Theology, Mercer University, and Research Fellow, Department of New Testament, University of the Free State, Bloemfontein, South Africa.
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3 John A. T. Robinson, The Priority of John, ed. J. F. Coakley (London: SCM, 1985). Subsequent references to pages in this volume will be placed in parentheses in the text. 4 For a recent review of these issues, see Mark A. Matson, “The Historical Plausibility of John’s Passion Dating,” in John, Jesus, and History, vol. 2 of Aspects of Historicity in the Fourth Gospel, eds. Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, and Tom Thatcher, ECL 2 (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2009), esp. 296–97, who concludes that “the use of chronology, then, provides almost no definitive help in resolving the conflict between John and the Synoptics, relative to the chronology of the passion week.” 5 Ethelbert Stauffer, Jesus and His Story (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1960), 7, remarked: “There is no fitting the chronological structure of the Gospel according to John within the narrow span of the Synoptic account. But it is possible to fit the Synoptic frame into John’s structure. This is important as evidence for the correctness of the Johannine chronology.” It is odd that Robinson refers to Stauffer seven times but does not acknowledge that Stauffer had argued his thesis first. 6 H. Scott Holland, The Fourth Gospel, vol. 2 of The Philosophy of Faith and the Fourth Gospel (London and New York: 1920; published separately in 1923), 131. 7 Robinson cites Raymond E. Brown, The Gospel according to John, I-XII, AB 29 (Garden City: Doubleday, 1966), 118. 8 Surprisingly, John 2:20 has never appeared in the annual scripture indexes of New Testament Abstracts. 9 Bruce E. Schein, Following the Way: The Setting of John’s Gospel (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1980), 191. 10 John P. Meier, A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus, Volume 1: The Roots of the Problem and the Person (New York: Doubleday, 1991), 382. 11 Francis J. Moloney, The Gospel of John, Sacra Pagina 4 (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1998), 82. Symbolic interpretations are cited and rejected by J. J. Bernard, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to St. John, ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1928), 1:96; E. C. Hoskyns, The Fourth Gospel, ed. F. N. Davey (London: Faber & Faber, 1947), 196; and Rudolf Schnackenburg, The Gospel according to St. John, vol. 1, trans. Kevin Smyth, HThKNT (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968), 351–52. For explanations based on gematria, see Augustine, Tract. Ev. Jo. 10.11.1-10.12.3. 12 Harold W. Hoehner, Chronological Aspects of the Life of Christ (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1977), 39, citing Thomas Corbishley, “The Chronology of the Reign of Herod the Great,” JTS 36 (1935): 22–27. 13 Corbishley, “The Chronology of the Reign of Herod the Great,” 26. 14 Ibid., 22–23. 15 Hoehner, Chronological Aspects, 40. 16 Jack Finegan, Handbook of Biblical Chronology, rev. ed. (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1998), 347. 17 Finegan, Handbook of Biblical Chronology. 18 Ibid., 348. 19 BibleWorks 9. 20 George R. Beasley-Murray, John, WBC 36 (Waco, TX: Word, 1987), 38. 21 Hoskyns, The Fourth Gospel, 195–96. See also, supporting the constative aorist, A. T. Robertson and W. Hersey Davis, A New Short Grammar of the Greek Testament (New York: Richard R. Smith, 1931), 295; C. F. D. Moule, An Idiom-Book of New Testament Greek (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1968), 11. 22 C. K. Barrett, The Gospel according to St. John (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1978), 200.
Notes to pages 147–151
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23 Barrett, The Gospel according to St. John. 24 Hoehner, Chronological Aspects, 42. 25 Daniel B. Wallace, Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996), 560–61. 26 Wallace, Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics, 561 n. 20. 27 Schein, Following the Way, 191. 28 Paul N. Anderson, The Riddles of the Fourth Gospel: An Introduction to John (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2011), 200. 29 Hoskyns, The Fourth Gospel, 195. 30 Barnabas Lindars, The Gospel of John, NCB (London: Oliphants, 1972), 143. 31 Gail R. O’Day, “The Gospel of John,” in The New Interpreter’s Bible, vol. 9 (Nashville: Abingdon, 1995), 544. 32 D. Moody Smith, John, Abingdon New Testament Commentaries (Nashville: Abingdon, 1999), 90. 33 Bernard, John, 1:96. 34 Brown, John, 1:116. 35 Ernst Haenchen, John 1: A Commentary on the Gospel of John, ed. and trans. Robert W. Funk (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1984), 1:184. 36 Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2003), 1:530 n. 356. 37 Schnackenburg, John, 1:351. 38 Marianne Meye Thompson, John: A Commentary, NTL (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2015), 73 n. 107. 39 Andreas J. Köstenberger, John, BECNT (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2004), 109. 40 Köstenberger, John. 41 Finegan, Handbook of Biblical Chronology, 349. 42 Hoehner, Chronological Aspects of the Life of Christ, 42–43. 43 Otto Michel, “naos,” TDNT, 4:882. 44 John Painter, The Quest for the Messiah: The History, Literature, and Theology of the Johannine Community, 2nd ed. (Nashville: Abingdon, 1993), 160 n. 96. 45 Lindars, The Gospel of John, 135–36. 46 Anderson, The Fourth Gospel and the Quest for Jesus: Modern Foundations Reconsidered (London: T&T Clark, 2006), 161; cf. Anderson, Riddles, 200. 47 Robinson, The Priority of John, 129–30. 48 Leon Morris, The Gospel according to John (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1971), 188–89. 49 D. A. Carson, The Gospel according to John (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991), 178. See also Keener, The Gospel of John, 1:518-19; Köestenberger, John, 111; J. C. Laney, John, Moody Gospel Commentary (Chicago: Moody, 1992), 72; E. R. Richards, “An Honor/ Shame Argument for Two Temple Cleansings,” Trinity Journal 29 (2008): 19–43. 50 Allan Chapple, “Jesus’ Intervention in the Temple: Once or Twice?” JETS 58 (2015): 546. 51 Chapple, “Jesus’ Intervention in the Temple,” 551. 52 Ibid., 554: “Evidence in Josephus enables us to date the commencement of Herod’s building work on the Temple to 20/19 BC, and its completion a year and a half later to 18/17 BC. If the statement made by the ‘Jews’ means that the building work had been done forty-six years previously, this would date the incident John records to around AD 28. If the statement means that the building work had been under way for fortysix years, this gives us a date a year or two earlier.” See the discussion of the calculation of the years above. 53 Ibid., 566.
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54 Ibid., 567. 55 Brown, John, 1:118. 56 See J. Murphy-O’Connor, “Jesus and the Money Changers (Mark 11:15-17; John 2:1317),” RB 107 (2000): 42–55. 57 See John R. Donahue, Are You the Christ? The Trial Narrative in the Gospel of Mark, SBL Dissertation Series 10 (Missoula: SBL, 1973), esp. 109, 113, 124; Donald Juel, Messiah and Temple, SBL Dissertation Series 31 (Missoula: Scholars Press, 1977), esp. 147–55. 58 See Mary L. Coloe, God Dwells with Us: Temple Symbolism in the Fourth Gospel (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2001); idem, Dwelling in the Household of God: Johannine Ecclesiology and Spirituality (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2007). 59 Meier, A Marginal Jew, 1:408. 60 Ibid. 61 Ibid., 408–09. 62 Ibid., 433 n. 121.
Chapter 7 1 Mark also domesticates the Baptist as a witness to Jesus, though not as rigidly as does the Fourth Evangelist; cf. for example, Willi Marxsen, Mark the Evangelist: Studies on the Redaction History of the Gospel, trans. James Boyce et al. (Nashville: Abingdon, 1969), 33; Etienne Trocmé, The Formation of the Gospel according to Mark, trans. Pamela Gaughan (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1975), 55. 2 See discussion in Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John: A Commentary, 2 vols. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2003), 388–93. 3 The Fourth Gospel does not employ the title “Baptist” (Matt 3:1; 11:11-12; 14:2, 8; 16:14; 17:13; Mark 1:4; 6:14, 24-25; 8:28; Luke 7:20, 33; 9:19; Ant. 18.116), but I employ the epithet to distinguish this John from the Evangelist traditionally designated by that title. 4 In this chapter, I have adapted much material from Keener, John, 429–67, 574–81. 5 Whether from John the Apostle, John the Elder, Thomas, Lazarus, or other proposals; see for example, Martin Hengel, The Johannine Question, trans. John Bowden (Philadelphia: Trinity Press International; London: SCM, 1989); James H. Charlesworth, The Beloved Disciple: Whose Witness Validates the Gospel of John? (Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1995); Richard Bauckham, The Testimony of the Beloved Disciple: Narrative, History, and Theology in the Gospel of John (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007); Keener, John, 82–115. 6 Regarding independence, see esp. D. Moody Smith, John among the Gospels: The Relationship in Twentieth-Century Research (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992); idem, John among the Gospels (Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 2001). I find the clearest connections to be contrasts with the traditional passion narrative; see Keener, John, 919, 1101–03, 1133–34. 7 This is also the case for 21:24, though it remains more controversial for various reasons. 8 See, for example, Bruce Chilton, Judaic Approaches to the Gospels, University of South Florida International Studies in Formative Christianity and Judaism 2 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1994), 31. The meaning is more contested; for discussion of John’s baptism
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in relation to other ancient lustrations, see Keener, John, 442–48; for a more updated version, cf. idem, Acts: An Exegetical Commentary, 4 vols. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2012–15), 1:977–82. If John’s baptism develops the sort of ceremonial lustration expected for proselytes abandoning their gentile impurity, this would help to explain his preaching about children of Abraham in Q (Matt 3:9//Luke 3:8). In the Fourth Gospel as in the Synoptics, John seeks the renewal of Israel, though his mission to bring Israel to repentance becomes still more Christologically focused (John 1:31). Cf. Josephus, Ant. 18.118; James M. Robinson, The Problem of History in Mark and Other Marcan Studies (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1982), 73. See Josephus, Ant. 18.117. Although the Qumran Community would not have welcomed a maverick like John (see, for example John Pryke, “John the Baptist and the Qumran Community,” RevQ 4.4 [1964]: 483–96), he probably baptized near them (see evidence in Joachim Jeremias, New Testament Theology [New York: Scribner, 1971], 43), in an area called the “wilderness” (see Ulrich Mauser, Christ in the Wilderness, SBT 39 [London: SCM, 1963], 78). Gerd Theissen, The Gospels in Context: Social and Political History in the Synoptic Tradition, trans. Linda M. Maloney (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991), 39. Ant. 18.119. See for example, Fréderic Manns, “Marc 6,21-29 à la lumière des dernières fouilles du Machéronte,” SBFLA 31 (1981): 287–90; Rainer Riesner, “Johannes der Täufer auf Machärus,” Bibel und Kirche 39 (1984): 176; Michele Piccirillo, “Machaerus,” 3:391–393 in The Oxford Encyclopedia of Archaeology in the Near East, 5 vols.; ed. Eric M. Meyers (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997). Pliny Nat. 5.15.72, who claims that it had ranked second to Jerusalem at one time. Harold W. Hoehner, Herod Antipas, SNTSMS 17 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1972), 170–71; on the execution, see also Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), 398–402. See esp. Richard A. Burridge, What Are the Gospels? A Comparison with GraecoRoman Biography, SNTSMS 70 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992; 2nd ed., Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004). Not surprisingly in view of the options available (I know of no ancient novels about recent historical characters), the biographic genre for the Gospels has become the general consensus; see for example, Charles H. Talbert, What Is a Gospel? The Genre of the Canonical Gospels (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977); George A. Kennedy, “Classical and Christian Source Criticism,” in The Relationships Among the Gospels: An Interdisciplinary Dialogue, ed. William O. Walker, Jr. (San Antonio: Trinity University Press, 1978), 125–55, here 128–34; David E. Aune, The New Testament in its Literary Environment, LEC 8 (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1987), 46–76; Vernon K. Robbins, Jesus the Teacher: A Socio-Rhetorical Interpretation of Mark (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1992), 10; Dirk Frickenschmidt, Evangelium als Biographie. Die vier Evangelien im Rahmen antiker Erzählkunst, TANZ 22 (Tübingen: Francke, 1997); Eckhard Plümacher, Geschichte und Geschichten: Aufsätze zur Apostelgeschichte und zu den Johannesakten, eds. Jens Schröter and Ralph Brucker, WUNT 170 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004), 13–14; Maria Ytterbrink, The Third Gospel for the First Time: Luke within the Context of Ancient Biography (Lund: Lund University—Centrum för teologi och religionsvetenskap, 2004). For both consistency with sources on matters of substance yet a range of adaptation on detail in ancient biography, see Craig S. Keener, “Otho: A Targeted Comparison of Suetonius’ Biography and Tacitus’ History, with implications for the Gospels’ Historical Reliability,” BBR 21 (3, 2011): 331–55; Jordan Henderson, “Josephus’s Life and
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Notes to pages 157–158 Jewish War Compared to the Synoptic Gospels,” Journal of Greco-Roman Christianity and Judaism 10 (2014): 113–31. As many of us suggest elsewhere, for example, Craig S. Keener, “‘We Beheld His Glory’: John 1:14,” in Aspects of Historicity in the Fourth Gospel, eds. Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, and Tom Thatcher, vol. 2 of John, Jesus and History, SBLECL 2 (Atlanta: SBL, 2009), 15–25. See for example, David R. Beck, “The Narrative Function of Anonymity in Fourth Gospel Characterization,” Semeia 63 (1993): 143–58; idem, The Discipleship Paradigm: Readers and Anonymous Characters in the Fourth Gospel (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1997). For example, Theon. Progymn. 1.93–171. For the context of political concerns about prophets, see also Jo-Ann A. Brant, John (Paideia; Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011), 47. On John in context of prophetic movements, see for example, Robert L. Webb, John the Baptizer and Prophet: A Socio-historical Study, JSNTSup 62 (Sheffield, U.K.: JSOT Press, 1991); Rebecca Gray, Prophetic Figures in Late Second Temple Jewish Palestine: The Evidence from Josephus (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993). See E. P. Sanders, Jesus and Judaism (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985), 11; John P. Meier, A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus, 5 vols.; ABRL (New York: Doubleday, 1994–), 2:100–05; Graham N. Stanton, Gospel Truth? New Light on Jesus and the Gospels (Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1995), 164–66. Theon, Progymn. 5.52–56. See the sources in Philip E. Satterthwaite, “Acts against the Background of Classical Rhetoric,” in The Book of Acts in Its Ancient Literary Setting, eds. Bruce W. Winter and Andrew D. Clark, vol. 1 of The Book of Acts in Its First-Century Setting, ed. Bruce W. Winter (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), 337–79, here 345. For disciples as adherents, see evidence in Michael J. Wilkins, Discipleship in the Ancient World and Matthew’s Gospel, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1995). See John P. Meier, “John the Baptist in Josephus: Philology and Exegesis,” JBL 111.2 (1992): 225–37. Carl H. Kraeling, John the Baptist (New York: Scribner, 1951), 51–52. Historically John’s “eschatological ‘radicalisation’” lent itself to political misinterpretation (Martin Hengel, The Charismatic Leader and His Followers, ed. John Riches, trans. James Greig [New York: Crossroad, 1981], 36). Meier, “John,” 234. For the passage’s authenticity, see also Louis H. Feldman, “Josephus: Interpretive Methods and Tendencies,” in Dictionary of New Testament Background, eds. Craig A. Evans and Stanley E. Porter (Downers Grove, Ill.: IVP Academic, 2000), 590–96, here 591. See for example, PssSol 17; 1QS 9.11; Marian Wittlieb, “Die theologische Bedeutung der Erwähnung von ‘Māšîah/Christós’ in den Pseudepigraphen des Alten Testaments palästinischen Ursprungs,” BN 50 (1989): 26–33; James H. Charlesworth, ed., The Messiah: Developments in earliest Judaism and Christianity (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992); John J. Collins, “The Son of Man in First-Century Judaism,” NTS 38.3 (1992): 448–66; idem, The Scepter and the Star: The Messiahs of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Other Ancient Literature (New York: Doubleday, 1995); Craig S. Keener, “Jesus and Parallel Jewish and Greco-Roman Figures,” in Christian Origins and Greco-Roman Culture: Social and Literary Contexts for the New Testament, eds. Stanley Porter and Andrew W. Pitts, vol. 1 of Early Christianity in its Hellenistic Context, vol. 9 in Texts and Editions for New Testament Study (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 85–111. See Keener, Matthew, 333–34. That the Fourth Gospel omits these latter doubts is hardly surprising.
Notes to pages 159–160
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30 Some even suggest that the Synoptics may have suppressed the overlap as a potential embarrassment (e.g., Stanton, Gospel Truth, 166–67). 31 Whether Q agrees with Mark or the Fourth Gospel on this point depends partly on whether Matthew’s or Luke’s report of the Q material remains closer to the original here, but both sources can be interpreted either way on this point (Matt 11:11//Luke 7:28; Matt 11:12–13//Luke 16:16). 32 Hans Conzelmann argued that Luke 16:16 was a key to Luke’s theology of epochs (The Theology of St. Luke, trans. G. Buswell [New York: Harper & Row; London: Faber & Faber, 1960], 95–136), although more recent scholarship has often challenged this claim (e.g., John Nolland, “Salvation-History and Eschatology,” in Witness to the Gospel: The Theology of Acts, ed. I. Howard Marshall and David Peterson [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998], 63–81; note the range of responses in François Bovon, Luke the Theologian: Thirty-Three Years of Research (1950–1983), trans. Ken McKinney [Allison Park, PA: Pickwick, 1987], 29–74). 33 R. Alan Culpepper, Anatomy of the Fourth Gospel: A Study in Literary Design (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1983), 62. 34 With Joan E. Taylor, The Immerser: John the Baptist within Second Temple Judaism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997), 299. 35 F. F. Bruce, New Testament History (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1972), 120. 36 These sects and the Pharisees also condemned one another’s baptisms (cf. t. Yad. 2:20). 37 Thus Seneca the Stoic could explain that Epicurus was not so bad as Epicureans (e.g., Lucil. 12.11; Dial. 2.15.4; 7.12.4; 7.13.1–2; Ben. 3.4.1); and Aulus Gellius (14.3.10–11) could point out that, despite the common belief that Plato and Xenophon were rivals, in reality the rivalry was that of their followers. 38 Geographical digressions were common (e.g., Polybius 1.41.6; cf. 1.42.1-7). 39 Josephus, Ant. 18.119; Kraeling, John, 9. 40 Thomas L. Brodie, The Gospel according to John: A Literary and Theological Commentary (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), 151. Some think a recently discovered pilgrim site (from 530 CE on) east of the Jordan might be the site (Guy Couturier, “Jésus baptisé à Béthanie?” Parabole 22.4 [2000]: 16), though this evidence is late. 41 It was also customary when mentioning more than one site of the same name to distinguish them, so John’s Bethany “across the Jordan” would be naturally read as a Bethany distinct from the near-Jerusalem Bethany of the Gospel passion tradition. 42 See D. A. Carson, The Gospel according to John (Leicester, UK: InterVarsity; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991), 146–47. 43 See Raymond E. Brown, The Gospel according to John, 2 vols. AB 29, 29A (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1966–70), 1:151. 44 For example, Bruce, History, 159; Brown, John, 1:151. Marie-Emile Boismard, “Aenon, près de Salem (Jean, III, 23),” RB 80.2 (1973): 218–29, identifies it with ‘Ain Far’ah, in the heart of Samaria. John’s geographical notes (1:28; 3:23; 5:2; 9:7; 11:54) are generally accepted as reliable (James D. G. Dunn, “Let John Be John: A Gospel for Its Time,” in The Gospel and the Gospels, ed. Peter Stuhlmacher [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991], 293–322, here 299). 45 With, for example, John A. T. Robinson, Twelve New Testament Studies, SBT 34 (London: SCM, 1962), 64–65. 46 Edwin D. Freed, “Samaritan Influence in the Gospel of John,” CBQ 30.4 (1968): 580–87, here 580–81, lists Aenon and Salim (3:23), Sychar (4:5) and Ephraim (11:54) as probably Samaritan.
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47 Kraeling, John, 9–10. 48 See Ant. 18.113–14, 124–25; Kraeling, John, 85, 90–91, 143–45. John’s attraction to influential supporters of Antipas like soldiers and tax gatherers (Luke 3:10–14) may also have suggested a political threat (Meier, “John,” 226–27). 49 Kraeling, John, 92–93, noting that he was safe in Judea or Samaria, but the eastern bank of the Jordan was Antipas’ territory. 50 See discussion in Keener, John, 430–32. 51 Mark 1:5; Matt 3:5–6; Luke 3:3, 7; Ant. 18.118. 52 For the questions here as hostile honor challenges, see insightfully Jerome H. Neyrey, The Gospel of John NCBC (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 48–51. 53 Josephus, Ant. 18.118-19; cf. for example, Meier, “John,” 226–27; Kraeling, John, 85–91; Hoehner, Antipas, 143–44. 54 For example, Ant. 20.98, 168, 171. 55 See at length Sjef van Tilborg, The Jewish Leaders in Matthew (Leiden: Brill, 1972). 56 Cf. Ernst Haenchen, John: A Commentary on the Gospel of John, 2 vols., ed. and trans. Robert W. Funk, Hermeneia (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984), 1:143, contrasting this with the Old Testament and 1QS. Levites appear elsewhere in first century Christian literature only in Luke 10:32; Acts 4:36; 1 Clem. 32.2; 40.5. 57 Cf. Craig L. Blomberg, The Historical Reliability of John’s Gospel: Issues and Commentary (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2001), 76. 58 Some Jewish texts coalesced the images (cf. for example, Sipre Dev. 175.1.3), but that was by no means always the case (Wayne A. Meeks, The Prophet-King: Moses Traditions and the Johannine Christology, NovTSup 14 [Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1967], 27, 168–71; cf. some of the references in Oscar Cullmann, The Christology of the New Testament [London: SCM, 1959], 14ff; Richard N. Longenecker, The Christology of Early Jewish Christianity [London: SCM, 1970], 33ff ). 59 Some others suggest that if the Baptist saw himself as a forerunner for Elijah, he would have seen the one coming after him as literally “before” him (1:30); see Raymond E. Brown, New Testament Essays (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1968), 181–84. 60 For example, Robinson, Studies, 13. 61 A. J. B. Higgins, The Historicity of the Fourth Gospel (London: Lutterworth, 1960), 76. 62 See Edwin D. Freed, Old Testament Quotations in the Gospel of John, NovTSup 11 (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1965). 63 Cf. M. J. J. Menken, “The Quotation from Isa 40,3 in John 1,23,” Biblica 66.2 (1985): 190–205; Bruce G. Schuchard, Scripture Within Scripture: The Interrelationship of Form and Function in the Explicit Old Testament Citations in the Gospel of John, SBLDS 133 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1992), 1–15. 64 1QS 8.13–14; 9.19–20; cf. 4Q176 frg. 1–2, 1.4–9; 4Q259 3.4–5; cf. also William H. Brownlee, “A Comparison of the Covenanters of the Dead Sea Scrolls with PreChristian Jewish Sects,” BA 13 (1950): 50–72, here 71; Raymond E. Brown, “The Dead Sea Scrolls and the New Testament,” in John and Qumran, ed. James H. Charlesworth (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1972), 1–8, here 4. They applied it especially to their knowledge of the law (1QS 8.15–16). 65 F. F. Bruce, “Qumrân and Early Christianity,” NTS 2.3 (1956): 176–90, here 177. 66 I suspect that Mark condenses Q’s baptism and testing narratives for his concise introduction. 67 T. W. Manson, The Sayings of Jesus (London: SCM, 1957), 40, suggests “a single Aramaic verb” behind both.
Notes to pages 162–164
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68 David Daube, The New Testament and Rabbinic Judaism (London: University of London, 1956), 266; see also Ephraim E. Urbach, The Sages: Their Concepts and Beliefs, 2 vols., trans. Israel Abrahams, 2nd ed. (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1979), 1:386. 69 See C. H. Dodd, Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1965), 274; Meier, Marginal Jew, 2:19–22, 116–30. On the Baptist’s direct influence of Jesus, see further J. Ramsey Michaels, Servant and Son: Jesus in Parable and Gospel (Atlanta: John Knox, 1981), 1–24. 70 Cf. Kraeling, John, 55. Kraeling, John, 56–57, thinks that the Baptist envisioned the mightier one as Daniel’s Son of Man, whom Kraeling thinks an angel. 71 J. Ramsey Michaels, The Gospel of John, NICNT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 114, prefers “sky” here because of the dove imagery. 72 For the judgment context, see Matt 3:10–12//Luke 3:9, 16–17. Cf. also Luke 12:49–50 in light of Mark 10:38–39, on which see for example, Robinson, Studies, 161; James D. G. Dunn, Baptism in the Holy Spirit: A Re-examination of the New Testament Teaching on the Gift of the Spirit in Relation to Pentecostalism Today, SBT, 2nd ser., 15 (London: SCM, 1970), 42; A. J. Mattill, Jr., Luke and the Last Things: A Perspective for the Understanding of Lukan Thought (Dillsboro: Western North Carolina Press, 1979), 4; for authenticity, see David Hill, New Testament Prophecy (Atlanta: John Knox, 1979), 67. 73 Craig S. Keener, “The Function of Johannine Pneumatology in the Context of Late First-Century Judaism,” (PhD diss., Duke University, 1991), 65–69; idem, The Spirit in the Gospels and Acts: Divine Purity and Power (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1997), 8–10. 74 See Kraeling, John, 58–59. That the disciples of Acts 19:2 were unaware of any Holy Spirit is unlikely, given the prevalence of teachings about the Holy Spirit in early Judaism (with or without the Baptist). 75 Cf. Spirit-baptism imagery in John 3:3–6 (addressed in Keener, John, 537–55, esp. 550–52). 76 Harold J. Flowers, “En pneumati hagiō kai puri,” ExpTim 64.5 (1953): 155–56; Manson, Sayings, 41; cf. A. B. Bruce, “Matthew,” in The Expositor’s Greek Testament, vol. 1 of 5, ed. W. Robertson Nicoll (New York: Hodder & Stoughton, 1897–1910), 61–340, here 84; Kraeling, John, 61–63; for the wind in winnowing, for example, Ps 1:4; Isa 17:13; 29:5; 41:15–16; Hos 13:3; Lev. Rab. 28:2; Eccl. Rab. 5:15, §1. 77 See F. F. Bruce, “Holy Spirit in the Qumran Texts,” ALUOS 6 (1966): 49–55, here 50. 78 David E. Aune, Prophecy in Early Christianity and the Ancient Mediterranean World (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1983), 132, citing 1QS 4:20-21; for further documentation see Keener, “Pneumatology,” 65–69. 79 Probably derived from Luke 9:35; 23:35; and from Isa 42:1 (relevant if the heavenly voice evokes this passage, as in Matt 3:17; 12:18); cf. 1 En 39:6; 45:3, 4; 49:2; 51:3, 5; 52:6, 9; 61:5); 4Q534 frg, 1, 1.10 applies it to some eschatological leader. 80 For example, Brown, John, 1:55. J. M. Ross, “Two More Titles of Jesus,” ExpTim 85.9 (1974): 281, prefers “chosen” because John favors variety in his Christological terms in the first chapter. 81 Bruce M. Metzger, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament (New York: United Bible Societies, 1975), 200. 82 For further discussion and background, see Keener, John, 463–65. 83 C. H. Dodd, The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1965), 230–38; C. K. Barrett, “The Lamb of God,” NTS 1.3 (1955): 210–18, here 218; cf. D. B. Sandy, “John the Baptist’s ‘Lamb of God’ Affirmation in Its Canonical and Apocalyptic Milieu,” JETS 34.4 (1991): 447–59.
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84 Cf. for example, the arguments of Brown, John, 1:58-60; Rudolf Schnackenburg, The Gospel according to St. John, 3 vols., trans. Kevin Smyth (New York: Herder & Herder, Seabury and Crossroad, 1968–82), 1:299-300. 85 The earliest supposedly non-Christian use of “lamb” for the Messiah is a Christian interpolation in TJos 19:8 (Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza, The Book of Revelation: Justice and Judgment [Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985], 95). 86 For example, Dan 7:3–13; 1 En 85:3–10; 89:49; 4 Ezra 11:1–7; 12:31. 87 Cf. Paul S. Minear, Images of the Church in the New Testament (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1960), 102–03; Norman Hillyer, “‘The Lamb’ in the Apocalypse,” EvQ 39.4 (1967): 228–36. The powerless lamb also contrasts starkly with Revelation’s composite beast (Rev 13:1–7) that blends the four oppressive kingdom beasts of Dan 7:1–8. 88 For example, J. B. Lightfoot, The Gospel of St. John: A Newly Discovered Commentary, Lightfoot Legacy 2, ed. Ben Witherington and Todd D. Still (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2015), 104; J. H. Bernard, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to St. John, 2 vols., ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1928), 1:44–46; Vincent Taylor, The Atonement in New Testament Teaching (London: Epworth, 1945), 138–39; Schnackenburg, John, 1:300. 89 Some argue for it, for example, Walther Zimmerli and Joachim Jeremias, The Servant of God (Naperville, IL: Alec R. Allenson, 1957), 57ff; Hans Joachim Schoeps, Paul: The Theology of the Apostle in the Light of Jewish Religious History, trans. Harold Knight (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1961), 134–35, 139; Daniel Boyarin, “Le Christ souffrant, un midrash juif,” Vie Spirituelle 796 (2011): 433–50; against it, see for example, Emiliano R. Urciuoli, “‘Ein erratischer Block’: The Pre-Jesuanic and the Pre-Christian Exegesis of Isaiah 53,” Henoch 32.1 (2010): 66–100. Some have argued that Qumran’s Teacher of Righteousness is described in terms of Isaiah’s Servant Songs (William H. Brownlee, “Messianic Motifs of Qumran and the New Testament,” NTS 3 [1956]: 12–30, here 18–20; André Dupont-Sommer, The Essene Writings from Qumran, trans. G. Vermes [Oxford: Blackwell, 1961], 361–63). Its individual application at Qumran may pave the way for its later messianic use (Torleif Elgvin, “The Individual Interpretation of the Servant,” Mishkan 43 [2005]: 25–33). 90 Cf. Joachim Jeremias, “[ὰμνὸς]” in Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, 10 vols., ed. Gerhard Kittel and Gerhard Friedrich, trans. Geoffrey W. Bromiley (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1964–76), 1:338-41, here 339; Luis Díez Merino, “El cordero de Dios en el Nuevo Testamento y en el Targum,” Estudios Bíblicos 64.3–4 (2006): 581–611. Still more narrowly, Matthew Black, “The Messiah in the Testament of Levi XVIII,” ExpTim 60 (1948–49): 321–22, suggests TLevi 18 as a possible background. 91 See Haenchen, John, 1:152–53; C. K. Barrett, The Gospel according to St. John: An Introduction with Commentary and Notes on the Greek Text, 2nd ed. (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1978), 176. 92 For example, George H. Gilbert, “Exegetical Notes: John, Chapter I,” Biblical World 13 (1899): 42–46, here 46; by contrast, C. K. Barrett, “The Old Testament in the Fourth Gospel,” JTS 48 (1947): 155–69, here 155–56, suspects that nuances from various texts are blended together here. The LXX uses a different term, but the Fourth Gospel is not bound to the LXX (Freed, Quotations, passim). 93 For example, Schnackenburg, John, 1:299; Godfrey Ashby, “The Lamb of God—II,” Journal of Theology for Southern Africa 25 (1978): 62–65; Bruce H. Grigsby, “The Cross as an Expiatory Sacrifice in the Fourth Gospel,” JSNT 15 (1982): 51–80; Ruth B. Edwards, Discovering John: Content, Interpretation, Reception, 2nd ed. (London: SPCK, 2014), 81. 94 For example, Schnackenburg, John, 1:300; Brown, John, 1:60-63; G. L. Carey, “The Lamb of God and Atonement Theories,” TynBul 32 (1981): 97–122; Andreas J.
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Köstenberger, John, BECNT (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2004), 66–67; Andrew T. Lincoln, The Gospel according to Saint John, BNTC (London: Continuum, 2005), 113; Jey J. Kanagaraj, John, New Covenant Commentary (Eugene: Cascade, 2013), 13. 95 Jacob J. Enz, “The Book of Exodus as a Literary Type for the Gospel of John,” JBL 76.3 (1957): 208–15, here 214, sees Exod 29:38–46 as the background. 96 Josephus, Ant. 3.248, 294; 11.110; J.W. 6.423; see already Exod 12:27; 34:25; Deut 16:2-6. 97 Some who argue that the Baptist meant it otherwise concede this sense in the Gospel, for example, Barrett, “Lamb,” 218. 98 In this Gospel, “Behold the lamb” (1:29, 36) also may parallel “Behold the man” (19:5) and “Behold your king” (19:14), which echoes the introduction of Israel’s first king (1 Sam 9:17 LXX). 99 See Bernard, John, 1:44-46. 100 John F. McHugh, John 1—4, ICC (New York: T&T Clark, 2009), 133–34, linking Tg. Ps.-J. Exod 1:15 with Josephus, Ant. 2.205. 101 See also the image of eschatological purging (using διακαθαίρω) in Matt 3:12//Luke 3:17, as noted here in Michaels, John, 110; cf. Neyrey, John, 52. 102 See for example, Jub 1:23; 1QS 3.8-9; later, cf. for example, Num. Rab. 7:10. 103 This tradition exhibits a striking “Christology,” given that biblically only God could pour out God’s own Spirit (Isa 44:3; Ezek 36:27; 37:14; 39:29; Joel 3:1-2 [ET 2:28-29]). Moreover, by deeming himself unworthy to handle the coming one’s sandals (Mark 1:7), The Baptist deems himself unworthy of the role of a servant—though in Scripture prophets were servants of God (e.g., 2 Kgs 9:7; 17:13, 23; Ezra 9:11; Jer 7:25; 25:4; 26:5). 104 Matthew connects this element of the heavenly voice (Matt 3:17) with Isa 42:1, but this becomes clear only because of how Matthew renders Isa 42:1 in Matt 12:18. A servant connection also welcomes a lamb image (Isa 53:7), as noted above. 105 On the bat qol, see documentation in Keener, John, 458; cf. idem, Acts, 2:1634. The Isaac narrative includes a voice from heaven (Gen 22:11, 15). 106 An almost certainly historical tradition; see Sanders, Jesus and Judaism, 98–101. 107 Blomberg, Reliability, 80. 108 Charles H. Talbert, Reading John: A Literary and Theological Commentary on the Fourth Gospel and the Johannine Epistles (New York: Crossroad, 1992), 83–84, finds parallels for both forms of drawing disciples. 109 Martin Goodman, State and Society in Roman Galilee, A.D. 132–212, Oxford Centre for Postgraduate Hebrew Studies (Totowa, NJ: Rowman & Allanheld, 1983), 78–79, citing R. Judah in m. ‘Erub. 3:5. 110 Diogenes Laertius 6.1.2. 111 Diogenes Laertius 7.1.3. In less permanent fashion, Socrates allegedly sent a student to hear another’s lecture, then sent him back with more questions (Xenophon, Mem. 3.1.1– 3, 11). Greek adult students were free to move from one teacher to another (Cicero, Brut. 91.316) or even attend different lectures on the same days (Eunapius, Lives, 469).
Chapter 8 1 See my “The Historical Jesus in the Fourth Gospel: A Paradigm Shift?” JSHJ 8 (2010): 3–46. 2 Raymond E. Brown, a close confidant and friend, introduced his view of the composition history of John in his world-famous commentary: The Gospel according to John, AB 29, 29A (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1966, 1970). In his final abbreviated
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Notes to pages 168–169 commentary, published posthumously, Brown, to avoid polemics and simplify his position, moved from his original “five stages” to “three stages” of how John moved from sources to final redactor. See Brown, An Introduction to the Gospel of John, ed. F. J. Moloney (New York and London: Doubleday, 2003), 64–89. Eduard Schweizer, Ego Eimi (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1939). Eugen Ruckstuhl, Die literarische Einheit des Johannesevangeliums (Freiburg: Paulus, 1951). Also see his “Johannine Language and Style: The Question of Their Unity,” in L’Évangile de Jean, ed. M. de Jonge, BETL 44 (Gembloux: Duculot, 1977), 125–47. R. Alan Culpepper, The Johannine School, SBLDS 26 (Missoula: Scholars Press, 1975). Francis J. Moloney, “Editor’s Introduction,” in Brown, An Introduction to the Gospel of John, 7. P. Gardner-Smith, Saint John and the Synoptic Gospels (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1938). C. H. Dodd, Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1963). D. Moody Smith, John Among the Gospels (Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 2001); see esp. 241: “It is reasonable to take seriously the Gospel’s claim to represent a separate and independent witness.” The Louvain School has sought to prove that John did in fact depend on Matthew, Mark, and Luke. See the brilliant work of F. Neirynck (beginning in 1978). D. Moody Smith is convinced that Mark could be “the sole originator of the gospel genre,” but it is also possible, and makes “John’s independence immediately intelligible,” if “the narration of the passion itself gave rise to the gospel genre.” Smith, John among the Gospels, 240. Surely, this valid insight deserves discussion. D. Moody Smith, “John: A Source for Jesus Research?” in John, Jesus, and History, vol. 1, eds. Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, and Tom Thatcher, SBL Symposium Series 44 (Atlanta: SBL, 2007), 169. Ernst Käsemann, The Testament of Jesus According to John 17, trans. Gerhard Krodel (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1968). See the insightful study of Clement by Paul Anderson in John, Jesus, and History, vol. 1, 3. John Painter, John: Witness and Theologian (London: SPCK, 1975, 1986). Also see Painter, The Quest for the Messiah: The History, Literatures and Theology of the Johannine Community (Nashville: Abingdon, 1993). For Robert T. Fortna’s reflections on authentic Jesus traditions in John and in the Signs Source, see his “Jesus Tradition in the Signs Gospel,” in Jesus in Johannine Tradition, eds. Robert T. Fortna and Tom Thatcher (Louisville, London, and Leiden: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001), 199–208. Peder Borgen and George L. Parsenios cumulatively indicate that John 1:1-18 is an exegetical reflection on Gen 1-4 couched in Greek tragic elements. See Borgen, “The Prologue of John—An Exposition of the Old Testament,” in Philo, John and Paul, ed. Brown Judaic Studies (Atlanta: Scholars, 1987), 75–96; reprinted from NTS 16 (1970): 288–95. Parsenios, Rhetoric and Drama in the Johannine Lawsuit Motif, WUNT 258 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010), 46–47. Charlesworth, “The Priority of John? Reflections on the Essenes and the First Edition of John,” in Für und wider die Priorität des Johannesevangeliums: Symposium in Salzburg am 10. März 2000, eds. P.L. Hofrichter, Theologische Texte und Studien 9 (Hildesheim, Zürich, and New York: Georg Olms Verlag, 2002), 73–114. James H. Charlesworth, “The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Gospel according to John,” in Exploring the Gospel of John: In Honor of D. Moody Smith, eds. R. Alan Culpepper and C. Clifton Black (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1996), 65–97.
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20 For example, see Marianne Meye Thompson, John: A Commentary, The New Testament Library (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2015), 19. 21 This lecture is an expanded and reworked version of “The Tale of Two Pools: Archaeology and the Book of John,” Near East Archaeological Society Bulletin 56 (2011): 1–14. 22 See the informative summary by Dan Bahat in “Jerusalem Down Under: Tunneling Along Herod’s Temple Mount,” BAR 21 (1995): 30–47. 23 I am deeply grateful for permission to study the area of the Pool of Bethzatha during the period I was Annual Professor at the Albright Institute and the assistance by Herman Konings at Bethzatha. 24 See Lee I. Levine, “The Bezetha Quarter (The New City),” in Jerusalem: Portrait of the City in the Second Temple Period (538 B.C.E. – 70 C.E.) (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 2002), 337–40. 25 James. M. MacDonald, The Life and Writings of St. John (New York: Scribner, Armstrong & Col, 1877), 299. 26 John Henry Bernard, Gospel According to St. John, vol. 1, ICC (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1928), 227. 27 M.-E. Boismard, Moïse ou Jésus, Bibliotheca Ephemeridum Theologicarum Lovaniensium 84 (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1988); Boismard, Moses or Jesus, trans. B. T. Viviano (Leuven: Peeters Press; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993). 28 G. H. C. Macgregor, The Gospel of John (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1929), 167. 29 See J. P. Lewis, “Conrad Schick: Architect Archaeologist,” Near East Archaeological Society Bulletin 53 (2008): 15–23. I am grateful to Lewis for the publications of Schick listed. 30 See Charles William Wilson, “Bethesda,” in A Dictionary of the Bible, 2nd ed., eds. W. Smith and J. M. Fuller (1893): 1.409-11 and the discussion in Y. Yadin, Jerusalem Revealed (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1975), 133. 31 M.-J. Pierre and J.-M. Roussée, “Saint Marie de la Probatique: États et orientations de recherché,” Proche-Orient Chrétien 31 (1981): 23–42. 32 I am dependent on Shimon Gibson for these measurements; see Gibson, “The Pool of Bethesda in Jerusalem and Jewish Purification Practices of the Second Temple Period,” Proche-Orient Chrétien 55 (2005): 276–93; esp. see 286. For an artist’s rendering of the Pools of Bethzatha, see B. Pixner, With Jesus in Jerusalem (Rosh Pina: Corazin Publishing, 1996), 43. 33 Gibson in “The Pool of Bethesda,” 286. 34 For Rousée’s plan of the Pool of Bethzatha (Bethesda) see Bargil Pixner, Paths of the Messiah, ed. R. Riesner, trans. K. Myrick, S. Randall, and M. Randall (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2010), 35. 35 At Qumran and in many other Jewish communities, no barrier separated moral and ritual impurity. See Thomas Kazen, Issues of Impurity in Early Judaism, Coniectanea Biblica, New Testament Series 45 (Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2010), 17. One of the scholars to emphasize that both the Pool of Bethzatha and the Pool of Siloam were miqva’ot is Shimon Gibson. See now Gibson: “The sizes and interior arrangements of the Bethesda and Siloam Pools . . . should therefore be identified as large ritual immersion pools (mikva’ot),” “The Pool of Bethesda,” 291. To obtain insights why miqva’ot are not swimming pools or bathtubs, see Ehud Netzer, The Palaces of the Hasmoneans and Herod the Great (Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi Press and Israel Exploration Society, 2001), 14–25. 36 I have explained and illustrated this point in the following publications: “Anguine Iconography in the Studium Biblicum Franciscanum Museum and Biblical Exegesis,” Liber Annuus 49 (1999): 431–42, Plates 5 and 6; “Phenomenology, Symbology, and
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Notes to pages 175–179 Lexicography: The Amazingly Rich Vocabulary for ‘Serpent’ in Ancient Greek,” RB 111 (2004): 499–515; “The Symbol of the Serpent in the Bible: Surprising and Challenging Archaeological Insights,” in Text Detectives: Discovery the Meaning of Ancient Symbols and Concepts, Biblical Archaeology Lecture Series DVD, Bible & Archaeology Fest VIII Set 3 (Washington, DC, 2006); “The Symbology of the Serpent in the Gospel of John,” in John, Jesus, and History, volume 2: Aspects of Historicity in the Fourth Gospel, eds. P. N. Anderson, F. Just, and T. Thatcher (Atlanta: SBL, 2009), 63–72; The Good and Evil Serpent: How a Universal Symbol Became Christianized, The Anchor Yale Bible Reference Library (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010); “Teologia biblica e simbolismo del serpente,” in Voci dall’area santuariale di Lanuvium: Un percorso storico- religioso con ricadute nel presente, ed. Marcello Del Verme (Bornato in Franciacorta: Sardini Editrice, 2013), 81–114 with illustrations (= Biblia e Oriente 55, 255–56). See the critical edition of the Temple Scroll by L. H. Schiffman et al., The Temple Scroll and Related Documents (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011). For the background of early Jewish holiness, see M. J. H. M. Poorthuis and J. Schwartz, eds., Purity and Holiness: The Heritage of Leviticus (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2000). Also see U. C. von Wahlde, The Gospel and Letters of John (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 2.224. In Qumranology, the scholarly shift toward halakot and ritual purity is indicative of a major shift in research and it is in line with developments in the social sciences, especially the work of Mary Douglas, Claude Lévi-Strauss and Edmund Leach. See now J. Klawans, “Purity in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Oxford Handbook of the Dead Sea Scrolls, eds. T. H. Lim and J. J. Collins (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), 373–402. See L. I. Levine, Jerusalem: Portrait of the City in the Second Temple Period (538 B.C.E. – 70 C.E.) (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 2002). Pliny the Elder hailed Jerusalem: “[T]he most famous, by far, of the cities in the East” (Natural History 5.70). I am grateful to Levine for drawing my attention to this important evaluation. Josephus, J.W. 1.75. For images, see Plate LXVIII in J. T. Milik, DJD 3, 214; and the drawing in Émile Puech, The Copper Scroll Revisited, trans. David E. Orton, STDJ 112 (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2015), 140. Puech, The Copper Scroll Revisited, 103. Ibid. I am indebted to Shimon Gibson for decades of studying the Pool of Bethzatha and for showing me this opening. James H. Charlesworth, The Good and Evil Serpent, The Anchor Yale Bible Reference Library (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2010), ix. See the texts collected by Emma J. Edelstein and Ludwig Edelstein in Asclepius: Collection and Interpretation of the Testimonies, 2 vols. (Baltimore and London: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1998). See the image in Charlesworth, The Good and Evil Serpent, 112 (Figure 44). For a study and images of these metal serpents, see Charlesworth, “Anguine Iconography in the Studium Biblicum Franciscanum Museum and Biblical Exegesis,” Liber Annuus 49 (1999): 431–42, Plates 5 and 6. Also see Charlesworth, The Good and Evil Serpent, 114–15 (Figure 45 and Figure 46). For example, see Macgregor, The Gospel of John, 227. See Ronny Reich and Eli Shukron, “The Shiloaḥ Pool from the Days of the Second Temple,” Qadmoniot 38 (2005): 91–96. I express deep appreciations to Professor Ronnie Reich and Dr. Eli Shukron for many discussions at the Pool of Siloam.
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51 See Ronny Reich, “The Pool of Siloam,” in the New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy Land, vol. 5 (2008), 1807. 52 Reich and Shukron, “The Shiloaḥ Pool” (my idiomatic rendering). 53 See my discussions in Charlesworth, Jesus as Mirrored in John: The Genius in the New Testament (London: T&T Clark, 2018). 54 “His” may refer to the believer or to Jesus. Has the Evangelist intended both meanings (double entendre is a Johannine technique and it appears also frequently in the Odes of Solomon). 55 The meeting of Jesus with the Samaritan woman has some historical basis, as R. E. Brown, C. K. Barrett, A. Lincoln have argued in their commentaries and as Susan Miller concludes in John, Jesus, and History, vol. 2, eds. Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, and Tom Thatcher (Atlanta: SBL, 2009), 73–81. My own work adds credence to this conclusion; see “An Unknown Dead Sea Scrolls Fragment of Deuteronomy XXVII 4-6,” The Samaritan News 1019–20 (2008): 64–68; “What is a Variant? Announcing a Dead Sea Scrolls Fragment of Deuteronomy,” MAARAV 16.2 (2009): 201–12, Plate IX and X; “An Unknown Dead Sea Scroll and Speculations Focused on the Vorlage of Deuteronomy 27:4,” in Jesus, Paulus und die Texte von Qumran [H-W Kuhn Festschrift], eds. J. Frey and E. E. Popkes, WUNT 2. Reihe 390 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2014), 393–414. 56 For example, see the discussion in Levine, Jerusalem, 329–30. 57 Urban C. von Wahlde, “Archaeology and Topography in the Gospel of John,” in Jesus and Archaeology, ed. Charlesworth (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006), 570. 58 See Charlesworth, “Can We Discern the Composition Date of the Parables of Enoch?” in Enoch and the Messiah Son of Man: Revisiting the Book of Parables, ed. Gabriele Boccaccini et al. (Grand Rapids and Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 2007), 450–68. Also see Charlesworth, “Il figlio dell’uomo, il primo giudaismo, Gesù e la cristologia delle origini,” in Il Messia: Tra Memoria e Attesa, ed. G. Boccaccini (Brescia: Editrice Morcelliana, 2005), 87–110. Finally, see the contributions in James H. Charlesworth and Darrell L. Bock, eds., Parables of Enoch: A Paradigm Shift (London: T&T Clark, 2013). 59 Ronny Reich, Excavating the City of David, trans. Miriam Feinberg Vamosh (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society and Biblical Archaeology Society, 2011), 331. 60 The influential and critical research by J. Louis Martyn was focused on a “two-level drama,” with emphasis on John’s situation in the 90s. See Martyn, History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel, 3rd ed. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2003). 61 Colleen M. Conway calls for inclusion of “New Historicism” in Jesus Research and urges scholars “to leave behind” the idea that we can find “a nontextual Jesus.” Conway, “New Historicism and the Historical Jesus in John: Friends or Foes?” in John, Jesus, and History, vol. 1, 215. 62 Mordechai Aviam, Jews, Pagans and Christians in the Galilee (Rochester: University of Rochester Press, 2004), 7. 63 See Charlesworth, The Pesharim and Qumran History: Chaos or Consensus? (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), and Charlesworth, Pesharim, Other Commentaries, and Related Documents, ed. H. W. L. Rietz, Princeton Theological Seminary Dead Sea Scrolls Project 6B (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2002). 64 Martin Hengel, The Johannine Question, trans. J. Bowden (London: SCM; Philadelphia: TPI, 1989), 132–35. See also Hengel, Die johanneische Frage, WUNT 67 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1993), 322–25.
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65 Especially during Jesus’ time (notably from 20 CE to 60 CE), stone vessels are frequent in the Holy Land. They were demanded for Jewish ritual laws; only stone, glass, and metal prohibited impurities from entering the vessel (cf. Temple Scroll 50). They are found at Qumran, throughout Jerusalem, and in Lower Galilee. For discussions, see Shimon Gibson, “Stone Vessels of the Early Roman Period from Jerusalem and Palestine: A Reassessment,” in One Land – Many Cultures: Archaeological Studies in Honour of S. Loffreda, eds. G. C. Bottini, L. Di Segni, and L. D. Chupcala, Studium Biblicum Franciscanum Collectio Maior 41 (Jerusalem, 2003), 292–93; J. C. Poirier, “Purity Beyond the Temple in the Second Temple Era,” JBL 122 (2003): 247–65; Y. Magen, The Stone Vessel Industry in the Second Temple Period (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society and Israel Antiquities Authority, 2002). 66 See Painter in John, Jesus, and History, vol. 1, 233–35. 67 To follow my own thought and obtain more bibliographical data, the focus in this selected bibliography has been on my own publications related to Jesus and archaeology and on archaeological publications that might not be familiar to those devoted to the Gospel of John.
Chapter 9 1 Clement’s statement is quoted by Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 6.14.7: τὸν μέντοι Ἰωάννην ἔσχατον, συνιδόντα ὅτι τὰ σωματικὰ ἐν τοῖς εὐαγγελίοις δεδήλωται, προτραπέντα ὑπὸ τῶν γνωρίμων, πνεύματι θεοφορηθέντα πνευματικὸν ποιῆσαι εὐαγγέλιον. 2 Charles H. Dodd, Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1963); see also D. Moody Smith, John among the Gospels: The Relationship in Twentieth-Century Research, 2nd ed. (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 2001). 3 Terms suggested by James Charlesworth, see for example, James H. Charlesworth, “The Historical Jesus in the Fourth Gospel: A Paradigm Shift?” JSHJ 8 (2010): 3–46; idem, “The Johannine Community and Its Jewish Background,” DIWA 38.1 (2013): 46–51. 4 Johannine material is regularly taken into consideration in the most detailed synthetic attempt: John P. Meier, A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus, ABRL (New York etc.: Doubleday, 1991); there are also several special works focusing on exploiting John for historical issues, see for example, Francis J. Moloney, “The Fourth Gospel and the Jesus of History,” NTS 46 (2000): 42–58; Craig L. Blomberg, The Historical Reliability of John’s Gospel: Issues and Commentary (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2002); James Louis Martyn, History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel, 3rd ed., New Testament Library (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003); Paul N. Anderson, The Fourth Gospel and the Quest for Jesus: Modern Foundations Reconsidered, Library of Historical Jesus Studies 321 (London: T&T Clark, 2006); Richard Bauckham, The Testimony of the Beloved Disciple: Narrative, History, and Theology in the Gospel of John, 1st ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007). The outcome of the SBL seminar on the issue has been published in multiple volumes including Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, and Tom Thatcher, eds., John, Jesus, and History. Volume 1: Critical Appraisals of Critical Views, SBLSymS 44 (Atlanta: SBL, 2007); Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, and Tom Thatcher, eds., John, Jesus, and History. Volume 2: Aspects of Historicity in the Fourth Gospel, SBLECL 2 (Atlanta: SBL, 2009).
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5 See James H. Charlesworth’s chapter in the present book. 6 This has been brought forward by Charlesworth, “The Historical Jesus in the Fourth Gospel: A Paradigm Shift?” 7 The attempt to overcome this difficulty by postulating the use of different calendars is altogether hypothetical: Annie Jaubert, The Date of the Last Supper (Staten Island: Alba House, 1965). 8 It was a common practice of the Romans to deprive the local authorities in the subdued countries of the right to judge the most serious crimes, see J. G. C. Anderson, “Augustan Edicts from Cyrene,” The Journal of Roman Studies 17 (1927): 33–48. There is no convincing evidence that it was otherwise in Judea in Jesus’ times. 9 The site itself probably can be identified with Khirbet Qana. 10 See Charlesworth’s chapter in the present volume. 11 See for example, Charlesworth, “The Historical Jesus in the Fourth Gospel: A Paradigm Shift?” 12 Peter’s staying in “the court of the high priest” while Jesus is questioned by Annas and then led to Caiaphas suggests that it was the same building; cf. James H. Charlesworth, “From Old to New: Paradigm Shifts Concerning Judaism, the Gospel of John, Jesus and the Advent of ‘Christianity,’” in Jesus Research: An International Perspective. The First Princeton-Prague Symposium on Jesus Research, Prague 2005, ed. James H. Charlesworth and Petr Pokorný, 1st ed., Princeton-Prague Symposia Series on the Historical Jesus 1 (Grand Rapids, MI and Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 2009), 64–65. 13 Shimon Gibson, “The Trial of Jesus at the Jerusalem Praetorium: New Archaeological Evidence,” in The World of Jesus and the Early Church: Identity and Interpretation in Early Communities of Faith, ed. Craig A. Evans (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2011). 14 There are more named places that we know specifically from John. For a fuller treatment see for example, Richard Bauckham, “Historiographical Characteristics of the Gospel of John,” in The Testimony of the Beloved Disciple: Narrative, History, and Theology in the Gospel of John, 1st ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007), 95–100. 15 Richard Bauckham, “Nicodemus and the Gurion Family,” in The Testimony of the Beloved Disciple: Narrative, History, and Theology in the Gospel of John (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007), 137–72. 16 A very early claim of the Christians that Jesus was of Davidic descent is witnessed by the formula quoted by Paul in Rom 1:3-4. 17 The opus classicum for this idea is certainly Martin Hengel, Judentum Und Hellenismus. Studien zu ihrer Begegnung unter besonderer Berücksichtigung Palästinas biszZur Mitte des 2. Jarhunderts vor Christus, 3rd ed., WUNT 10 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1988). 18 Most of these items were discussed in detail in the present symposium. 19 This is rightly stressed by Gerd Theissen and Dagmar Winter, The Quest for the Plausible Jesus: The Question of Criteria, trans. M. Eugene Boring, 1st ed. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2002). 20 Or “Tendenz,” to use the term of F. C. Baur. 21 Although he is said to “make efforts to release” Jesus (John 19:12), he eventually has him crucified—in v. 16 the irony culminates in the formulation that Pilate “handed him over to them (i.e., to the Jews) to be crucified.” 22 John may be developing the scheme found in Luke 1-2. 23 For example, the name Longinus for the soldier who pierced Jesus’ side (John 19:34); cf. Acts Pil. 11:1 and Mark 15:39. 24 In the meantime, Nicodemus also got involved in the discussion following an unsuccessful attempt to seize Jesus: John 7:50-52.
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25 Cf. similar wording in 1 John 4:2. The emphasis on eyewitness testimony which these writings have in common (John 19:35; 21:24; 1 John 1:1) points in the same direction. 26 This has been aptly pointed out by Bauckham, “Historiographical Characteristics of the Gospel of John,” 108–12; a convincing plea that Jesus did deliver longer speeches is offered in ch. 4 of Dale C. Allison, Jr., Constructing Jesus: Memory, Imagination, and History, 1st ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2010), 305–86. 27 Cf. Oscar Cullmann, “Der johanneische Gebrauch doppeldeutiger Ausdrücke als Schlüssel zum Verständnis des vierten Evangeliums,” in Vorträge und Aufsätze 19251962, ed. Karlfried Fröhlich (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1966), 176–86. 28 John 3:2, NJB. 29 John uses here the traditional Synoptic—and Pauline—description of this reality as “Kingdom of God” (John 3:3, 5). 30 John 2:11; 3:2; 6:2; 7:31; 9:16; 11:47; 12:18, 37. Quite probably, Jesus’ remark in John 4:48 “unless you see signs and wonders you will not believe” is not meant as a complaint or reproach, but a realistic statement. 31 This “providing” miracle does not have any Synoptic parallel, except for the confirmation of Jesus’ nonascetic (or rather anti-ascetic) attitude contrasted to John the Baptist: Mark 2:18-20; cf. Luke (Q) 7:33-35; Matt 11:18-19. 32 Matt 8:5-13; Luke 7:1-10. In these versions the petitioner is a military officer, a centurion, and the whole event takes place in Capernaum. 33 Cf. Luke (Q) 7:1-10; Matt 8:5-13. 34 Cf. Mark 6:32-44; 8:1-9; Matt 14:13-21; 15:29-38; Luke 9:10-17. 35 Cf. Mark 8:22-26. 36 All Synoptic Gospels relate the story of Jairus’ daughter who Jesus is believed to have returned to life immediately after her death (Mark 9:21-24, 35-43; Matt 9:18-19, 23-26; Luke 8:40-42, 49-56). In addition to that Luke 7:11-17 has a story of Resurrection by which Jesus interrupted the funeral of a widow’s son in Nain. 37 Cf. the verses of John 5:9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 15. 38 The story is clearly a result of rather complex development. This is admitted even by a relatively conservative scholar like Jacob Kremer, Lazarus. Die Geschichte Einer Auferstehung: Text, Wirkungsgeschichte und Botschaf (Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1985). 39 Cf. Mark 8:11-12 (par. Matt 16:1-4; Luke 11:16-17; John 6:30); Luke 11:29-32 (par. Matt 12:38-42); John 2:18. 40 More about that in Jan Roskovec, “Jesus as Miracle Worker: Historiography and Credibility,” in Jesus Research: New Methodologies and Perceptions, ed. James Hilton Charlesworth (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013), 874–96. 41 Luke 7:18-23 par. Matt 11:1-4. 42 In the very sense of the term ἱστορία—something that can be inquired of and accounted for. 43 The basic tragedy of the world that was not able to recognize the word through which it had been made when it came into the world (John 1:10) is overcome in the faith of those who did receive him (John 1:12) and recognize him as the good shepherd (John 10:14-15). That the core of the Christian faith concerns the identity of Jesus is also made clear by the first ending of the Fourth Gospel: John 20:31. 44 As a good example we may again take up the episode of testing Jesus’ messiahship in John 7:27-29. We have suggested that the reader would perceive the mistake of those who are convinced that they know where Jesus comes from: They are wrong on a banal, historical level because they do not know about Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem. But in his reaction to them, Jesus makes clear that they are mistaken also in a much more profound way, as they have no clue about his heavenly origin.
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Chapter 10 1 Jostein Ådna, “Jesus and the Temple,” in The Historical Jesus, vol. 3 of Handbook for the Study of the Historical Jesus, eds. Tom Holmén and Stanley E. Porter (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 2635. 2 The terms “cleansing of the Temple” or “Temple cleansing” are used here with hesitation, if only because they carry an interpretation of Jesus’ act which is open to question. Since these terms are conventional, however, they will be used intermittently, but alongside more hermeneutically benign expressions, such as “Jesus’ act in the Temple” or his “rout of vendors and money-changers.” For the same sentiment, see Mark A. Matson, “The Contribution to the Temple Cleansing by the Fourth Gospel,” SBLSP 128 (1992): 489 n. 4. 3 A salient example is the view espoused independently by John A. T. Robinson and Jerome Murphy-O’Connor that the Temple act reflects the spirit of John the Baptist and that, as such, Jesus would have committed it early on, when his own ministry was emulating that of John; John A. T. Robinson, The Priority of John, ed. J. F. Coakley (Oak Park, IL: Meyer-Stone Books, 1985), 127–31, 185–86; idem, “Elijah, John, and Jesus: An Essay in Detection,” NTS 4 (1957–58): 271–72; Jerome Murphy-O’Connor, “Jesus and the Money Changers (Mark 11:15-17; John 2:13-17),” RB 107 (2000): 53–54; cf. James F. McGrath, “‘Destroy This Temple’: Issues of History in John 2:13-22,” in John, Jesus, and History, Volume 2: Aspects of Historicity in the Fourth Gospel, eds. Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, S.J., and Tom Thatcher, ECL 2 (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 40–41; as well as the contribution to this symposium made by R. Alan Culpepper, “John 2:20, ‘FortySix Years’: Revisiting J. A. T. Robinson’s Chronology of Jesus’ Ministry.” Robinson, in fact, traces the position to his uncle Joseph Armitage Robinson, The Historical Character of John’s Gospel, 2nd ed. (London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1929), 27–31. 4 Ivor Buse, “The Cleansing of the Temple in the Synoptics and in John,” ExpTim 70 (1958–59): 22 (bracketed material added for clarification). For reviews of these four positions, see Culpepper, “John 2:20, ‘Forty-Six Years’: Revisiting J. A. T. Robinson’s Chronology of Jesus’ Ministry,” in this volume; as well as Jostein Ådna, Jesu Stellung zum Tempel: Die Tempelaktion und das Tempelwort als Ausdruck seiner messianischen Sendung, WUNT 2/119 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2000), 190 n. 89, 309–14; and Christina Metzdorf, Die Tempelaktion Jesu: Patristische und historish-kritische Exegese im Vergleich, WUNT 2/168 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003), 183–85; cf. Ådna, “Jesus and the Temple,” 2638 n. 8. Metzdorf notes that the Synoptic placement of the event at the end of Jesus’ ministry raises the further challenge of determining its precise timing within Jesus’ last days, which are recounted differently or elusively in Matthew, Mark, and Luke (pp. 184–85). A modification to the second option above has been taken up by Paula Fredriksen. She doubts Jesus ever performed such an act in the Temple, but argues that by placing the story at the beginning rather than the end of the Gospel, the Fourth Evangelist nonetheless facilitates historical inquiry into Jesus’ death: “John helps us to see—if we are taken in by Mark’s artistic power—that Christology simply is not a factor if we want to reconstruct a historically plausible reason why the priests would want Jesus out of the way”; “The Historical Jesus, the Scene in the Temple, and the Gospel of John,” in John, Jesus, and History, Volume 1: Critical Appraisals of Critical Views, eds. Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, S.J., and Tom Thatcher, SymS 44 (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2007), 265–72, quotation 269. 5 See McGrath, “‘Destroy This Temple’: Issues of History in John 2:13-22,” 35–36.
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6 Peder Borgen, for instance, would render linguistic comparison moot by arguing that the verbal agreement which occurs between John’s Temple cleansing (John 2:1322) and its Synoptic counterparts (Matt 21:12-13; 21:23-27; Mark 11:15-18, 27-33; and Luke 19:45-46; 20:1-8) is “no closer, nor more striking” than that which occurs between the Pauline (1 Cor. 10:3-4, 16-17, 21; 11:23-29) and Markan (Mark 14:22-25) traditions of the Lord’s supper: since the latter two circulated independently of each other, he argues, so it can be surmised of the former two; Early Christianity and Hellenistic Judaism (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996), 123, 125–27, 149–52, 153, 155–56. On verbal comparisons, see also Matson, “The Contribution to the Temple Cleansing by the Fourth Gospel,” 495–96. 7 Matson, “The Contribution to the Temple Cleansing by the Fourth Gospel,” 493. McGrath casts more nuance into the debate by noting that Synoptic and non-Synoptic sources may not have been mutually exclusive to John; that is, that the Evangelist could have drawn upon the one (non-Synoptic sources) while still depending upon the other (the Synoptics); McGrath, “‘Destroy This Temple’: Issues of History in John 2:13-22,” 35-36. This does not alter the second part of the assumption in question, however—which is at issue here—since Johannine differences from the Synoptics which do not serve a Johannine Tendenz are still taken to indicate an independent tradition. It should further be noted that evaluating non-Synoptic features in John’s Temple cleansing is not the only method by which an independent tradition has been deduced. Till Arend Mohr, for instance, arrives at such a conclusion by first inferring John’s Tendenz into the episode (to soften Jesus’ messianic profile by redirecting his ire from people to animals and things), then distilling the features of John’s putative Vorlage, based on the kind of changes John would have made to serve that Tendenz; Markus- und Johannespassion: Redaktions- und traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung der Markinischen und Johanneischen Passionstradition, ATANT 70 (Zürich: Theologischer Verlag, 1982), 88–92. 8 Problems with (and consequent denials of) the Temple incident’s historicity are reviewed in Ådna, Jesu Stellung zum Tempel, 8–12, 300–01; and idem “Jesus and the Temple,” 2639–43. 9 Matson, “The Contribution to the Temple Cleansing by the Fourth Gospel,” 505 (italics original). 10 McGrath, “‘Destroy This Temple’: Issues of History in John 2:13-22,” 36. 11 Ådna, Jesu Stellung zum Tempel, 186–89. 12 Matson, “The Contribution to the Temple Cleansing by the Fourth Gospel,” 495–99. 13 Fredriksen, “The Historical Jesus, the Scene in the Temple, and the Gospel of John,” 265. Cf. idem, Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews: A Jewish Life and the Emergence of Christianity (New York: Knopf, 1999), 229–31, where Fredriksen is slightly more open to Johannine dependence on Mark. 14 Matson, “The Contribution to the Temple Cleansing by the Fourth Gospel,” 496. 15 Two factors qualify the contribution being attempted here: (1) the concern of this study is to examine narrative, not verbal, differences between the Johannine and Synoptic accounts of the Temple cleansing, even where the two agree in vocabulary, grammar and syntax (see note 6); and, (2) though the dissimilarities which exist between John 2:19-20 and Synoptic counterparts are identified below, they are not fully investigated, due to the scope of issues they raise. Both verses, as well as their implications for several issues raised in this essay, are treated in the contribution to this volume by Culpepper, “John 2:20, ‘Forty-Six Years’: Revisiting J. A. T. Robinson’s Chronology of Jesus’ Ministry.”
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16 A detailed list of the differences (and similarities) between the Synoptic and Johannine accounts (including verbal agreements and disagreements) can now be found in Ådna, Jesu Stellung zum Tempel, 182–87. The list given here parses the differences along other lines, but both (it is believed) account for all the variations between the two versions. 17 John 2:13-17; cf. the parallels Matt 21:12-13; Mark 11:15-18; and Luke 19:45-46. So as not to burden the text with footnotes, references to specific verses in this comparison will only be given when a point specifically merits it. 18 John 2:14. 19 The ambiguity turns on the possibilities of reading the construct πάντας . . . τε . . . καί in John 2:15; see Harold K. Moulton, “Pantas in John 2:15,” BT 18 (1967): 126–27. 20 John 2:15. 21 John 2:16. 22 Mark 11:16. 23 John 2:16. 24 Cf. also Matt 21:13; Luke 19:46. The phrase “for all nations” (in italics) is unique to Mark among the Synoptics; moreover where Mark reads the perfect tense “you have made it (πεποιήκατε αὐτόν) a den of robbers,” Matthew has a present (“you are making it [αὐτὸν ποιεῖτε] a den of robbers”) and Luke, an aorist (“you made it [αὐτὸν ἐποιήσατε] a den of robbers”). 25 “And every cooking pot in Jerusalem and Judah shall be sacred to the Lord of hosts, so that all who sacrifice may come and use them to boil the flesh of the sacrifice. And there shall no longer be merchants ( )כנעניin the house of the Lord of hosts on that day”; Zech 14:21. 26 Mark 11:18; described as “perhaps” the end of the pericope because C. H. Dodd identifies it (with v. 19) as a Sammelbericht, independent of the Temple cleansing pericope; Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1963), 160. 27 John 2:17. Throughout the paper psalms are referenced by their chapter numbers in the Hebrew Bible, even when their LXX counterparts are being discussed. 28 John 2:18-22. 29 Matt 21:23-27; Mark 11:27-33; Luke 20:1-8. 30 Matt 21:14-22. 31 Mark 11:19-25. 32 Luke 19:47-48. The several days teaching can be inferred from Luke 20:1-2, where the episode of his opponents’ demand for legitimation begins, “And it happened on one of the days, as he was teaching the people in the Temple and preaching the gospel, the chief priests and scribes with the elders came up and spoke to him, saying . . . .” 33 John 2:18-22. 34 John 2:18. 35 Mark 11:28; cf. Matt 21:23; Luke 20:2. 36 John 2:18. Though this difference might readily be classified under “vocabulary” rather than “feature,” it also carries a dissimilarity in content; as Borgen categorizes it, “subject matter, not words;” Early Christianity and Hellenistic Judaism, 151. 37 John 2:19. 38 Matt 26:59-61. 39 Mark 14:57-58. 40 Matt 27:39-40. 41 Mark 15:29-30. 42 Acts 6:12-14. 43 Text from Marvin Meyer, ed. and trans., The Gospel of Thomas: The Hidden Sayings of Jesus (New York, NY: HarperSanFrancisco, 1992), ad loc. (My translation following.)
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Notes to pages 208–210 John 2:20-21. See note 26. John 2:22. On this convention in this pericope, see Herbert Leroy, Rätsel und Mißverständis: Ein Beitrag zur Formgeschichte des Johannesevangeliums (Löwen, Belgien: Imprimerie Orientaliste, 1967), 145–47. For σημεῖα in the Fourth Gospel, see Rudolf Schnackenburg, The Gospel according to St. John, trans. Kevin Smyth et al., 3 vols. (New York: Crossroad, 1968–82), 1:515-28; trans. of Das Johannesevangelium, 4 vols., HThKNT 4 (Freiburg, Basel, and Wien: Herder, 1965–84). Matson, “The Contribution to the Temple Cleansing by the Fourth Gospel,” 497 (parenthetical clarification added). Here Matson appeals to Rudolf Bultmann and Robert Fortna, who assign John 2:18 to Vorlagen other than the so-called Semeia Source (and, therefore, presumably interpret the “sign” in that verse to carry a different theological significance than σημεῖα in John which do come from that source); Rudolf Bultmann, The Gospel of John: A Commentary, trans. G. R. Beasley-Murray, R. W. N. Hoare, and J. K. Riches (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1971), 122, 124–25; and Robert Tomson Fortna, The Gospel of Signs: A Reconstruction of the Narrative Source Underlying the Fourth Gospel, SNTSMS 11 (London: Cambridge University Press, 1970), 146. Schnackenburg, Gospel According to St John, 517–18, 522–23 (quotations pp. 517 and 523). Schnackenburg compares the Jews’ use of σημεῖον at John 2:18 to its use by the scribes, Pharisees, Sadducees and people at large in Matt 12:38-42; 16:1-4; Mark 8:1113; Luke 11:14-16, 29-32. John 2:19-21. Following Schnackenburg (who omits walking on the water), the featured signs are changing water to wine (John 2:11), healing the official’s son (John 4:54), healing the man ill for thirty-eight years (designated synonymously as a “work” [ἔργον/John 7:21]), feeding the multitude with five loaves and two fish (John 6:14), healing the man born blind (John 9:16) and raising Lazarus (John 12:17-18); Gospel According to St John, 516. Schnackenburg accounts for this identification of σημεῖον with Jesus’ resurrection by insisting that Jesus “counters” the Jews’ demand for “a preternatural event” by “promising a different sort of sign”; Gospel According to St. John, 522. But inasmuch as Jesus does not criticize the Jews’ search for such a “sign” in John (as he does in the Synoptics), this interpretation begs the question and burdens the passage with more complexity than is necessary. Is it not more plausible that John wished to portray Jesus’ self-resurrection as the ultimate “sign” he would perform, and that, to set it up, he replaced the Synoptic inquest into his “authority” (ἐξουσία) with the Jews’ demand for a “sign” (σημεῖον)? John 12:12-15. John 12:16. Raymond Brown, for instance, suggests Ps 16:10 as a passage intimating resurrection; Raymond E. Brown, The Gospel according to John, 2 vols., AB 29-29A (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1966/1970), 1:116. For these options, see Brown, Gospel According to John, 1:116. John 2:17; cf. Ps 69:10. John 2:22. John 12:12-16. This discussion is drawn from a more detailed treatment in Michael A. Daise, “Quotations with ‘Remembrance’ Formulae in the Fourth Gospel,” in Abiding Words: The Use
Notes to pages 210–212
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of Scripture in the Gospel of John, eds. Alicia D. Myers and Bruce G. Schuchard, RBS 81 (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2015), 86–88. Martin Hengel, “Die Schriftauslegung des 4. Evangeliums auf dem Hintergrund der urchristlichen Exegese,” in “Gesetz” als Thema biblischer Theologie, ed. I. Baldermann et al., Jahrbuch für Biblische Theologie 4 (Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1989), 271–75; and in the abbreviated English version of this article, idem, “The Old Testament in the Fourth Gospel,” HBT 12 (1990): 29–30; cf. Andreas Obermann, Die christologische Erfüllung der Schrift im Johannesevangelium: Eine Untersuchung zur johanneischen Hermeneutik anhand der Schriftzitate, WUNT 2/83 (Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1996), 25 n. 135. Schnackenburg, Gospel According to St John, 1:347. Among commentators supporting such a reading are Rudolf Bultmann, The Gospel of John: A Commentary, trans. G. R. Beasley-Murray, R. W. N. Hoare, and J. K. Riches (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1971), 124 (cf. also p. 418); trans. of Das Evangelium des Johannes: Ergänzungsheft, KEK 2 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1964); and Brown, Gospel According to John, 1:123. See further Gary M. Burge, The Anointed Community: The Holy Spirit in the Johannine Tradition (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987), 212; and Allison A. Trites, The New Testament Concept of Witness, SNTSMS 31 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977), 120. Cf. Daise, “Quotations with ‘Remembrance’ Formulae in the Fourth Gospel,” 88, 88 n. 38. See the reviews of this position by Buse, “The Cleansing of the Temple in the Synoptics and in John,” 23; Borgen, Early Christianity and Hellenistic Judaism, 153; and McGrath, “‘Destroy This Temple’: Issues of History in John 2:13-22,” 39. Among advocates of this view, Borgen and McGrath note C. H. Dodd, Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel, 160–62; and Brown, Gospel According to John, 1:119. Buse traces the position yet earlier, to Arthur Temple Cadoux, The Sources of the Second Gospel (London: J. Clarke, 1935), 53–54 (his Source A, the Palestinian Gospel); and Walter Ernest Bundy, Jesus and the First Three Gospels: An Introduction to the Synoptic Tradition (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1955), 433; and Bundy, in turn, found it as early as Alfred Loisy, Les Évangiles Synoptiques, 2 vols. (Ceffonds, 1907–08), 2:292; and Julius Wellhausen, Das Evangelium Marci (Berlin: G. Reimer, 1903), 98. The ensuing discussion assumes the view of Maarten Menken (followed by Bruce Schuchard) that anomalies in the Fourth Gospel’s quotations likely reflect the Evangelist’s theologically motivated redaction; see Maarten J. J. Menken, “Introduction,” in Old Testament Quotations in the Fourth Gospel: Studies in Textual Form, ed. Maarten J. J. Menken, CBET 15 (Kampen: Kok Pharos, 1996), 14; and Bruce G. Schuchard, Scripture within Scripture: The Interrelationship of Form and Function in the Explicit Old Testament Citations in the Gospel of John, SBLDS 133, (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1992), xiv–xv. Victor Eppstein, “The Historicity of the Gospel Account of the Cleansing of the Temple,” ZNW 55 (1964): 43. LXX Vaticanus and Sinaiticus of Psalm 69:10 read καταφάγεται for κατέφαγεν; and at John 2:17 text family 13 (13, 69, 124, 174, 230, 346, 543, 788, 826, 828, 983, 1689, 1709), as well as several versions and Eusebius, attest the aorist κατέφαγεν for καταφάγεται (absent from the NA28 apparatus but noted by C. K. Barrett, The Gospel according to St. John, 2nd ed. [Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1978], 198 [cf. pp. 145–46]). The Vaticanus and Sinaiticus readings have been entertained seriously by Roger J. Humann (“The Function and Form of the Explicit Old Testament Quotations in the Gospel of John,” Lutheran Theological Review 1 [1988–89]: 42); but, as Rahlfs
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Notes to pages 212–215 notes in his apparatus (and other commentators have suggested), the LXX and NT variants may rather reflect later scribal attempts to harmonize the two texts; Alfred Rahlfs, ed., Psalmi cum Odis, vol. 10 of Septuaginta Societatis Scientiarium Gottingensis (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1931), ad loc. Bultmann, Gospel of John, 124 n. 3; cf. also Edwin D. Freed, Old Testament Quotations in the Gospel of John, NovTSup 11 (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1965), 10, 117; and Brown, Gospel According to John, 1:124. Barrett, The Gospel according to St. John, 28. John 12:38/Isa 53:1; John 12:40/Isa 6:10; John 13:18/Ps 41:10; John 15:25/Ps 35:19 or Ps 69:5; John 19:24/Ps 22:19; Maarten J. J. Menken, “‘Zeal for Your House Will Consume Me’ (John 2:17),” in Old Testament Quotations in the Fourth Gospel, 40; repr., pages 157–64 in Broeder Jehosjoea, opstellen voor Ben Hemelsoet: biij zijn afscheid als hoogleraar in de exegese van het Nieuwe Testament van de Katholieke Theologische Universiteit te Utrecht, ed. Dick Akerboom et al. (Kampen: Kok, 1994). Menken, “Zeal for Your House Will Consume Me,” 40–41; see also, for instance, Bultmann, Gospel of John, 124; Schnackenburg, Gospel According to St. John, 1:347; Brown, Gospel According to John, 1:124; Marie-Émile Boismard and Arnaud Lamouille, L’Évangile de Jean, vol. 3 of Synopse des quatre évangiles en français, 2nd ed. (Paris: Éditions du Cerf, 1977), 109. Menken, “Zeal for Your House Will Consume Me,” 41. For these premises, see Menken, “‘Zeal for Your House Will Consume Me,” 40–41. I add the parenthetical comment “(it is claimed)” to this sentence because references to other verses of the Psalm elsewhere in John are not certain. Rom 15:3. This is at least the case in Mark; Mark 11:18-19; cf. Luke 19:47-48. John 5:16-18; 7:1, 19-25; 8:57-59; 10:31-33; 11:45-53; 18:33-38; 19:1-22. Paul N. Anderson, The Riddles of the Fourth Gospel: An Introduction to John (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2011), 200; cf. idem, The Fourth Gospel and the Quest for Jesus: Modern Foundations Reconsidered, LNTS 321/Library of Historical Jesus Studies (London: T&T Clark, 2006), 158. “And for this reason (καὶ διὰ τοῦτο) the Jews were persecuting Jesus, because he was doing these things on the Sabbath” (John 5:16); “For this reason, therefore, (διὰ τοῦτο οὖν) the Jews were all the more (μᾶλλον) seeking to kill him, for he was not only breaking the Sabbath, but was calling God his own father, making himself equal to God” (John 5:18). Schnackenburg, Gospel According to St John, 1:355 (parenthetical clarification added). Barrett, Gospel According to St. John, 199, 201. The other line, not developed here, concerns a passage heretofore absent from discussions of the quotation at John 2:17, Deut 32:19-22. It has become commonplace in the study of John’s quotations to expect that anomalies reflect a citation protocol which blends two or more biblical passages, based on catchword correspondences between them; see Menken, “Introduction,” in Old Testament Quotations in the Fourth Gospel, 13–14; and Schuchard, Scripture within Scripture, xiv–xv, xv n. 21. In that light Deut 32:19-22 may account for the anomaly in John’s rendering of Ps 69:10a by juxtaposing verbal cognates of the noun “zeal” (ὁ ζῆλος) to the future tense of the verb “to consume” (לאכל/κατεσθίειν): in the Hebrew, לקנא/“( להקניאto be [pi‘el] or make [hiph‘il] jealous/zealous”); in the Greek, ζηλοῦν (“to be[come] jealous/zealous”) and παραζηλοῦν (“to make jealous/zealous”). John 14:15-18.
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85 A fuller argument for this trajectory, including a treatment of the different terms for “house” at John 2:16 (οἶκος) and John 14:2 (οἰκία), is made in Michael Allen Daise, “Ritual Transference and Johannine Identity,” Annali di storia dell’esegesi 27 (2010): 45–51. 86 Suggestive (though not compelling) here is that the same verb used for Jesus’ “casting out” all in the Temple at John 2 (ἐκβάλλειν) is used for the “casting out” of “the ruler of this world” during his Passion and glorification: “And making a whip of cords, he cast out (ἐξέβαλεν) all from the Temple” (John 2:15); “Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world shall be cast out” (ἐκβληθήσεται ἔξω; John 12:31). 87 The connection is somewhat buttressed by the prospect, noted above, that the mention of “scripture” (τῇ γραφῇ) in the next verse (John 2:22) may, in fact, refer to the quotation of Ps 69:10 at John 2:17; see under (2) A “geistgewirkte Erinnern.” If so, the “consuming zeal” ascribed to Jesus’ cleansing of the Jerusalem Temple (John 2:17/Ps 69:10a) becomes closely associated with the resurrection he would perform on the metaphorized sanctuary of his body, since this “scripture” and Jesus’ logion at John 2:19 are paired as objects of the disciples’ faith: “When therefore he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he was saying this; and they believed the scripture (John 2:17/Ps 69:10) and the word which Jesus spoke (John 2:19).” These two trajectories of a metaphorized temple cleansing later in the narrative are not mutually exclusive, but, in fact, dovetail, inasmuch as the indwelling of Father and Son in the believer (the metaphorized temple of the Johannine Community) is effected through the death and resurrection of Jesus (the metaphorized sanctuary of Jesus’ body). To quote Barrett, “It was his own body, killed on the cross, that Christ raised up, but in doing so he brought the church into being”; Gospel According to St. John, 201. Both lines and trajectories mentioned in this discussion were presented in Michael A. Daise, “‘Zeal for Your House Will Consume Me’: The Quotation of Psalm 69:10 at John 2:17” (paper delivered to the 77th International Meeting of the Catholic Biblical Association, Providence, Rhode Island, July 2014). I am indebted to Gregory Glazov (at that meeting), as well as Jan Roskovec and Craig Keener (at this symposium) for suggesting that my reading of “will consume” is not incompatible with the consensus interpretation which I argue against; Professor Roskovec, in particular, has noted that by calling the Temple his “Father’s house” at John 2:16, Jesus would be making an implicit claim to deity which, in turn, could invite reprisal. 88 Zech 14:9, 16-19. 89 Cf. m. Sukkah 3:9-11; 4:5, 8. 90 Matt 21:4-5. 91 John 12:13; cf. Matt 21:9; Mark 11:9-10; Luke 19:38. 92 Matt 21:8. 93 Mark 11:8. 94 John 12:12-13. 95 Lev 23:40-41 (LXX). 96 Heiner Peters, “Epanalēpsis,” in Encyclopedia of Rhetoric, ed. Thomas O. Sloane (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 250. 97 Arthur Quinn and Lyon Rathbun, “Epanalepsis,” in Encyclopedia of Rhetoric and Composition: Communication from Ancient Times to the Information Age, ed. Theresa Enos (New York and London: Garland Publishing, 1996), 228. 98 Arthur Quinn and Lyon Rathbun, “Inclusio,” in Encyclopedia of Rhetoric and Composition, 346. 99 Quinn and Rathbun, “Epanalepsis,” 228; idem, “Inclusio,” 346; Peters, “Epanalēpsis,” 250–51.
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100 Brown, Gospel According to John, 1:463. 101 “It certainly looks as if (the Temple cleansing) came to John in company with the triumphal entry (12:12-19), and that he used it in that chapter in the first instance”; Barnabas Lindars, The Gospel of John, NCB (Greenwood, SC: Attic Press, Inc., 1972), 136 (parenthetical clarification added). The prospect was, in fact, anticipated in an unpublished paper delivered by G. P. Lewis at the Birmingham New Testament Seminar, April 23, 1929; reported by W. F. Howard in The Fourth Gospel in Recent Criticism and Interpretation, ed. C. K. Barrett, 4th ed. (London: Epworth, 1955), 126–27, 303 (Appendix D). 102 Further supporting such a putative tradition is that by bringing Jesus’ reference to the “sign” of his resurrection (John 2:18-21) to chapter 12, it would introduce this ultimate σημεῖον after (rather than before) the penultimate one of raising Lazarus. See the discussion above, under The Second Pericope (John 2:18-22). 103 It has been suggested, most notably by Lindars, that this would have been done due to the insertion of the Lazarus story; Behind the Fourth Gospel, Studies in Creative Criticism 3 (London: SPCK, 1971), 62–63; idem, Gospel of John, 136; see also Robert Tomson Fortna, The Gospel of Signs: A Reconstruction of the Narrative Source Underlying the Fourth Gospel, SNTSMS 11 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1970), 144–45; Matson, “The Contribution to the Temple Cleansing by the Fourth Gospel,” 495 n. 45. 104 Anderson, for instance, musters several further factors favoring John’s early placement of the Temple incident: reflexes to the event implied later in the narrative; a “sense of realism” in the details of the account; the Synoptic corroboration of the logion at John 2:19; the date of the act calculated by the Jews’ reference to “forty-six years” at John 2:20; and Papias’ testimony about the improper sequencing in Mark; The Fourth Gospel and the Quest for Jesus, 158–61; idem, The Riddles of the Fourth Gospel, 200. And in his own contribution to this symposium Dale Allison considers the historical accuracy of John’s Temple cleansing (including the proximity to it of the logion at John 2:19) on the grounds that (a) it would explain Jesus’ later anticipation of antagonism from Jerusalem and (b) a Temple Sitz im Leben is apt for a saying about “destroying” and “raising” the sanctuary; “Reflections on Matthew, John, and Jesus.” All these points deserve further discussion on their own terms. 105 Matson, “The Contribution to the Temple Cleansing by the Fourth Gospel,” 490–91, here 491. 106 Matson presses his case for an independent tradition behind John’s Temple cleansing by arguing (a) that John’s Christological application of the logion at John 2:19 to Jesus’ resurrected body “does not need or take advantage of the link between the Temple cleansing (John 2:13-17) and the prediction of destruction (John 2:18-22)” and (b) that “the multiple use of Zechariah 9-14” throughout the Fourth Gospel suggests that these chapters from Zechariah “functioned in a hermeneutical fashion during the formation of the tradition which John uses”; “The Contribution to the Temple Cleansing by the Fourth Gospel,” 501–02 (parenthetical references added for clarity). His premises readily beg the question, however, if (against premise [a]) the altered verb “will consume” in the quotation of Ps 69:10 makes John’s Temple cleansing proleptic of Jesus’ self-resurrection; if (against premise [b]) Zech 9-14 to some degree also shape the Markan account of Jesus’ last week (see Henk Jan de Jonge, “The Cleansing of the Temple in Mark 11:15 and Zechariah 14:21,” in The Book of Zechariah and Its Influence, ed. Christopher Tuckett [Aldershot, Hampshire: Ashgate, 2003], 87-88); and if (again against premise [b]) Zech 14:21, in particular,
Notes to pages 220–223
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lies implicitly behind the Synoptic (Markan) version of the Temple cleansing—if not as a reflection of Jesus’ own impetus for the deed (Cecil Roth, “The Cleansing of the Temple and Zechariah xiv 21,” NovT 4 [1960]: 174–81]), then as a pre-Markan stimulus for the creation of the story (de Jonge, “The Cleansing of the Temple in Mark 11:15 and Zechariah 14:21,” 92–94). Matt 21:9; Mark 11:9-10; Luke 19:38. Matt 21:1-11. Matthew embellishes the term with the phrase “to the son of David” (ὡσαννὰ τῷ υἱῷ Δαυίδ), and both Matthew and Mark repeat it at the end of the quotation: “Hosanna in the highest” (ὡσαννὰ ἐν τοῖς ὑψίστοις); Matt 21:9; Mark 11:9-10. So, for instance, Bultmann, Gospel of John, 413, 417; and Brown, Gospel According to John, 1:459-61; following D. Moody Smith, “John 12:12ff. and the Question of John’s Use of the Synoptics,” JBL 82 (1963): 60–64; and Dodd, Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel, 152–56. McGrath, “‘Destroy This Temple’: Issues of History in John 2:13-22,” 36. So, Fredriksen’s aforementioned doubt that John would “heighten the drama by adding stampeding quadrupeds” (“The Historical Jesus, the Scene in the Temple, and the Gospel of John,” 265); and Ådna’s more recent judgment that for John 2:14-16 the Evangelist had likely found an “essentially heightened drama” (wesentlich gesteigerte Dramatik) for the episode in his (independent) source; Jesu Stellung zum Tempel, 189. The unlikelihood that “oxen and sheep” were sold at the Temple is discussed at length in Jostein Ådna, Jerusalemer Tempel und Tempelmarkt im 1. Jahrhundert n. Chr., ADPV 25 (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 1999), 120–26; cf. idem, “Jesus and the Temple,” 2644 n. 24. Dodd, Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel, 157. John 2:17. Paula Fredriksen, “The Historical Jesus, the Scene in the Temple, and the Gospel of John,” 265. Of the fifteen distinctions listed above, all have been assigned to Johannine design except the following: part of (6) Jesus removing the pigeon sellers by command; (7) no account of Jesus forbidding people to carry a vessel through the Temple (vis-à-vis Mark); (8) Jesus reciting his scriptural reference only to the pigeon sellers; and part of (14) Jesus (metaphorically) speaking about the destruction and raising of the sanctuary. Further (as noted above), this article has not given the logion at John 2:19 the attention it deserves; had it done so, the other portion of (14) might also have been ascribed to the Fourth Evangelist. Jan Roskovec, “History in John’s Portrayal of Jesus,” from the present volume.
Chapter 11 1 See the essay by Jörg Frey, “Die johanneische Theologie als Klimax der neutestamentlichen Theologie,” in Die Herrlichkeit des Gekreuzigten, ed. idem, WUNT 307 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 803–33, here 813, resuming his considerations on Johannine theology. 2 For the differences with Gnosticism see Rowland Bergmeier, Zwischen Synoptikern und Gnosis: Ein viertes Evangelium, NTOA/SUNT 108 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2015), esp. 49–55. He is, however, handicapped by his conviction that Gnosticism is in fact a Christian deviation (62–63).
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3 Jürgen Becker, Johanneisches Christentum (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004), 130–31, rightly pointed out this fact. However we must not forget the role of the earthly Jesus who, as Jesus of Nazareth, was bearer of the divine power, was “one” with God, but at the same time, has his own human story and cannot be confused with the Father. 4 Jörg Frey, “Edler Tod—wirksamer Tod—stellvertretender Tod—Heilschaffender Tod,” in Die Herrlichkeit des Gekreuzigten, 555–84, here 579–80, and idem, “Leiblichkeit und Auferstehung im Neuen Testament,” in ibid, 699–738, here 718. 5 Raymond E. Brown, The Gospel according To John: XII-XXI, AB 29b (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1970; repr., 1985), 1027; James H. Charlesworth, The Beloved Disciple (Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1995), 431; cf. 73–76. He supposes that Thomas is the Beloved Disciple. On the other hand Ch. Dietzfelbinger, Das Evangelium nach Johannes I-II, ZBK 4.1-2 (Zürich: Theologischer Verlag Zürich, 2004), 347–48, considers the faith of Thomas as a lower degree of the faith based on the testimony only. 6 Jörg Frey, “Die ‘Theologia crucifixi’ des Johannesevangelium,” in Die Herrlichkeit des Gekreuzigten, 485–554, here 549. 7 Johannes Beutler, Martyria: Traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zum Zeugnisthema bei Johannes, Frankfurter Theologische Studien 10 (Frankfurt am Main: Knecht, 1972), 209–361, esp. 254, 358. 8 Paul Ricoeur, “The Hermeneutics of Testimony,” in Essays on Biblical Interpretation, ed. L. S. Mudge (London: SPCK, 1981), 119–54, esp. 124. 9 Ernst Käsemann, Jesu letzter Wille nach Johannes 17 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1966, 1971), 49, 100. Cf. Martin Rese, “Käsemanns Johannesdeutung—ihre Vor- und Nachgeschichte,” ETL 82.1 (2006): 1–33, here 9–10. 10 Paul Ricoeur, “Stellung und Funktion der Metapher in der biblischen Sprache,” in Metapher: Zur Hermeneutik religiöser Sprache, ed. idem and E. Jüngel, EvT 34 Supplement (Munich: Kaiser, 1974), 45–70, here 68–70. 11 The first to describe this problem was Matthias Flacius Ilyricus (+1575) in his Clavis Scripturae 39, 1. See Werner G. Kümmel, Das Neue Testament Geschichte der Erforschung seiner Probleme (Freiburg and München: K. Alber, 1958), 22. 12 This is the enduring result of the studies by C. H. Dodd, The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1958), 446, 448. 13 This is becoming a consensus in the last three decades. See esp. Stepnen Witetschenk, Thomas und Johannes – Johannes und Thomas: Das Verhältnis der Logien des Thomasevangeliums zum Johannesevangelium, Herders biblische Studien 79 (Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder, 2015), esp. 510–13. The reconstruction of other literary sources for the Gospel of John, as proposed by Rudolph Bultmann (Revelatory Speeches), M. É. Boismard (Aramaic John), E. Siegert (Q and an old Passion Story) or M. Klinghardt (Marcion’s Gospel), remain hypotheses. They offer useful individual insights, but as a project they are at an impasse. It is most probable that the author of the Fourth Gospel did know a collection of “signs” of Jesus, but it could scarcely be called a Gospel, as maintained R. T. Fortna. A developing consensus generally recognizes the usage of preexisting traditions, specifically that Mark and some of the traditions used by the other Synoptics were sources used by the author of the Fourth Gospel (see Petr Pokorný and Ulrich Heckel, Einleitung in das Neue Testament: Seine Literatur und Theologie im Überblick [Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007], 546–55). The problem of the source of semeia remains open. A contact with the traditions used in the Gospel of Thomas is very probable; see Witetschek, Thomas und Johannes—Johannes und Thomas, 33, 493–508.
Notes to pages 227–230
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14 Cornelius Vollmer, “Zu den Toponymen Lithostroton und Gabbatha in Joh 19,13. Mit einem Lokalisierungsversuch des Prätoriums des Pilatus,” ZNW 106.2 (2015): 184–200, esp. 199–200, demonstrated that the Praetorium in which Jesus was interrogated by Pilate and flogged according to the Gospel of John, was in the fors Antonia near the Temple. However Vollmer himself is aware of the fact that the details may be a part of the Johannine narrative strategy. Anyhow it could be a part of a cumulative support for the authenticity of this tradition which is attested also by Mark. 15 See the report by Folker Siegert, “Die ‘vierte Suche’ nach dem historischen Jesus,” TLZ 138 (2013): 515–36. 16 James H. Charlesworth, “The Historical Jesus in the Fourth Gospel: A Paradigm Shift,” JSHJ 8 (2010): 3–46. 17 Siegert, “Die ‘vierte Suche’ nach dem historischen Jesus,” 515, 516. 18 Thomas Knöppler, Die Theologia Crucis des Johannes Evangeliums. Das Verständnis des Todes Jesu im Rahmen der johanneischen Inkarnations- und Erhöhungschristologie, WMANT 69 (Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukircher Verlag, 1994), 125ff. 19 For a balanced discussion of the problem see D. Moody Smith, “Jesus Tradition in the Gospel of John,” in Handbook for the Study of the Historical Jesus III, eds. T. Holmén and S. E. Porter (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2011) 1997–2039, here 2022–26. 20 H. Förster, “Die Begegnung am Brunnen (John 4,4-42) im Licht der ‘Schrift.’ Überlegungen zu den Samaritanern im Johannesevangelium,” NTS 61 (2015): 201–08, here 206–08. 21 Petr Pokorný, “Der irdische Jesus im Johannesevangelium,” in Bibelauslegung als Theologie, eds. idem and J. B. Souček, WUNT 100 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997), 330. 22 In the Gospel of John “of Nazareth” is consequently written as Nazōraios, similarly to Matthew and Acts, and Luke 18:27 and 24:19 (manuscripts A, Dea, Ke, etc.), whereas in Mark and Luke 24:19 (manuscripts p78, א, B, Le, etc.) he is being called Nazarēnos, which is the proper Greek version of the Hebrew nacrī. Nazōraios may have originally related to Nazirites, who took a special vow (Num 7), but in the New Testament it is used for “of Nazareth”; cf. the commentary of Hartwig Thyen, Das Johannesevangelium, HNT 6 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2015), ad loc. 23 See Thyen in his commentary, ad loc. 24 Thomas Söding, “‘Was kann aus Nazareth Gutes kommen’ (Joh 1.46): Die Bedeutung des Judenseins Jesu im Johannesevangelium,” NTS 46 (2000): 21–41, here 34–35. 25 The problem of Jesus’ kingship will be discussed below. 26 See John 1:21; obviously the prophet according to Deut 18:15, 17. 27 Cf. also John 7:52. 28 For example, R. H. Lighfoot, Theodor Zahn, J. H. Bernard, John Marsh or Colin G. Kruse in their respective commentaries ad loc. 29 John 8:1-11 is a later insertion. 30 It is important to know that Micah 5:1 does not appear among prophecies about the Messiah quoted in rabbinic texts. 31 The context suggests that it has to be understood as the indicative mood: See for example, C. K. Barrett or R. Brown in their respective commentaries ad loc; the Greek eraunaō is an equivalent of the Hebrew d-r-š. 32 Francis J. Moloney, H. Thyen and others in their respective commentaries, ad loc John 5:39-40. 33 So for example, Klaus Wengst, J. Ramsey Michaels or H. Thyen in their respective commentaries ad loc; M. Moser, Schriftdiskurse im Johannesevangelium, WUNT 2/380
322
34
35 36
37 38
39 40
41
42
43
44
Notes to pages 230–233 (Tübingen: Mohr Sibeck 2014), 237. According to John 7:27 some adversaries even argue that the origin of the Messiah will be unknown. They agree with the adversaries from 7:42 by concluding that his origin from Nazareth definitely disqualifies him for the role of the Messiah. Jesus confirms that the opponents know well where he is from (i.e., from Galilee), however, the One who has sent him is unknown to them (7:28; 16:3; 17:25). So Ernst Haenchen, Christian Dietzfelbinger and Udo Schnelle in their respective commentaries ad loc; U. Schnelle, Die ersten 100 Jahre des Christentums: 30-130 n. Chr. (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck Ruprecht, 2015), 363. For a critical analysis see Dietzfelbinger in his commentary ad loc (esp. 162). Karl Martin Fischer, “Der johanneische Christus und der gnostische Erlöser,” in Gnosis und Neues Testament, ed. K. W. Tröger (Berlin: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 1973), 261–65. See also Pokorný, Der irdische Jesus im Johannesevangelium, 333. The difference between “of Israel” and “of the Jews” corresponds to the Hebrew and the Roman terminology, the meaning is the same: Manfred Lang, Johannes und die Synoptiker, FRLANT 182 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck u, Ruprecht, 1999), 121 n. 61. See Lang, Johannes und die Synoptiker, 320–21. M. Labahn, “‘Heiland der Welt’ Der gesandte Gottessohn und der römische Kaiser— ein Thema johanneischer Christologie?” In Zwischen den Reichen: Neues Testament und Römische Herrschaft, eds. idem and J. Zangenberg, TANZ 36 (Tübingen: Francke Verlag, 2002), 153. For “John” the Kingdom of Jesus is identical with the Kingdom of God that Jesus proclaimed, Johannes Beutler, “‘Reich Gottes’ im Johannesevangelium” (unpublished paper presented in the Biblical Theology seminar group at the 69th Annual Meeting of the SNTS, Szeged, Hungary, August 2014). Ernst Käsemann stressed it in his essay “Grundsätzliches zur Interpretation von Römer 13,” in idem, Exegetische Versuche und Besinnungen II (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1965), 204–22, here 206–07. For the impact of this tradition see Martin Hengel, “Reich Christi, Reich Gottes und Weltrecich im Johannesevangelium,” in Königsherrschaft Gottes und himmlischer Kult, eds. idem and Anna Maria Schwemer, WUNT 55 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1991), esp. 184. This paragraph is an abstract from my former paper “Demoniac and Drunkard: John the Baptist and Jesus According to Q 7:33-34,” in Jesus Research: An International Perspective. The Second Princeton-Prague Symposium on Jesus Research, eds. J. H. Charlesworth and P. Pokorný (Grand Rapids, MI and Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 2009), 170–81. Francis J. Moloney, “The Fourth Gospel and the Jesus of History,” NTS 46 (2000): 42–58, here 57; cf. 45–49.
Jesus Research and the Gospel of John: Selected Bibliography Jolyon G. R. Pruszinski This bibliography is composed of key modern works relevant for Jesus Research in the Gospel of John, particularly those of relevance to the symposium papers. Select publications that have appeared since the symposium have been included for the reader’s benefit. Abbott, Edwin A. Johannine Vocabulary: A Comparison of the Words of the Fourth Gospel with those of the Three. London: Adam and Charles Black, 1905. Adler, Yonatan. “Religion, Judaism: Purity in the Roman Period.” Pages 240–49 in The Oxford Encyclopedia of Bible and Archaeology, Vol. 2. Edited by Daniel M. Master. New York: Oxford, 2013. Ådna, Jostein. Jerusalemer Tempel und Tempelmarkt im 1. Jahrhundert n. Chr. ADPV 25. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 1999. Ådna, Jostein. Jesu Stellung zum Tempel: Die Tempelaktion und das Tempelwort als Ausdruck seiner messianischen Sendung. WUNT 2/119. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2000. Ådna, Jostein, “Jesus and the Temple.” Pages 2635–75 in The Historical Jesus. Edited by Tom Holmén and Stanley E. Porter. Vol. 3 of Handbook for the Study of the Historical Jesus. Leiden: Brill, 2011. Albright, William F. “Recent Discoveries in Palestine and the Gospel of St. John.” Pages 153–71 in The Background of the New Testament and Its Eschatology: Studies in Honor of C. H. Dodd. Edited by W. D. Davies and D. Daube. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1956. Allison, Dale C., Jr. Constructing Jesus: Memory, Imagination and History. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2010. Allison, Dale C., Jr. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Epistle of James. ICC. New York and London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2013. Allison, Dale C., Jr. “It Don’t Come Easy: A History of Disillusionment.” Pages 173–85 in Jesus, History, and the Demise of Authenticity: The Rise and Fall of the Search for an Authentic Jesus. Authenticity after the Third Quest. Edited by Anthony Le Donne and Chris Keith. London and New York: T&T Clark, 2012. Allison, Dale C., Jr. “‘Jesus did not say to him that he would not die’: John 21:20-23 and Mark 9:1.” In John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 4. Edited by Paul N. Anderson. Atlanta: SBL, forthcoming. Allison, Dale C., Jr. Jesus of Nazareth: Millenarian Prophet. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1998. Allison, Dale C., Jr. The New Moses: A Matthean Typology. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 1993. Allison, Dale C., Jr. Resurrecting Jesus: The Earliest Christian Tradition and Its Interpreters. New York: T&T Clark, 2005.
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Allison, Dale C., Jr. “The Secularizing of the Historical Jesus.” Perspectives on Religious Studies 27.2 (2000): 135–51. Allison, Dale C., Jr. Studies in Matthew: Interpretation Past and Present. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2005. Amit, David. Ritual Pools from the Second Temple Period in the Hebron Hills. M.A. Thesis, Hebrew University, Jerusalem, 1991 [in Hebrew]. Anderson, J. G. C. “Augustan Edicts from Cyrene.” The Journal of Roman Studies 17 (1927): 33–48. Anderson, Paul N. “Acts 4:19-20—An Overlooked First-Century Clue to Johannine Authorship and Luke’s Dependence upon the Johannine Tradition.” The Bible and Interpretation, September 2010. Anderson, Paul N. “Aspects of Historicity in the Gospel of John: Implications for Investigations of Jesus and Archaeology.” Pages 587–613 in Jesus and Archaeology. Edited by James H. Charlesworth. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006. Anderson, Paul N. “Bakhtin’s Dialogism and the Corrective Rhetoric of the Johannine Misunderstanding Dialogue: Exposing Seven Crises in the Johannine Situation.” Pages 133–59 in Bakhtin and Genre Theory in Biblical Studies. Semeia Studies 63. Edited by Roland Boer. Atlanta: SBL Press, 2007. Anderson, Paul N. “Beyond the Shade of the Oak Tree: Recent Growth in Johannine Studies.” ExpT 119.8 (2008): 365–73. Anderson, Paul N. The Christology of the Fourth Gospel: Its Unity and Disunity in the Light of John 6. Rev. and enl. ed. Eugene: Cascade Books, 2010. Anderson, Paul N. “The Cognitive Origins of John’s Christological Unity and Disunity.” Horizons in Biblical Theology; An International Dialogue 17 (1995): 1–24. Anderson, Paul N. The Fourth Gospel and the Quest for Jesus: Modern Foundations Reconsidered. LNTS 321/Library of Historical Jesus Studies. London: T&T Clark, 2006. Anderson, Paul N. “A Fourth Quest for Jesus… So What, and How So?” The Bible and Interpretation, July 2010. Anderson, Paul N. From Crisis to Christ: A Contextual Introduction to the New Testament. Nashville: Abingdon, 2014. Anderson, Paul N. “From One Dialogue to Another—Johannine Polyvalence from Origins to Receptions.” Pages 93–119 in Anatomies of Narrative Criticism; The Past, Present, and Future of the Fourth Gospel as Literature. Edited by Stephen Moore and Tom Thatcher. Resources in Biblical Studies 55. Atlanta and Leiden: SBL/Brill, 2008. Anderson, Paul N. “Gradations of Symbolization in the Johannine Passion Narrative: Control Measures for Theologizing Speculation Gone Awry.” Pages 157–94 in Imagery in the Gospel of John. Edited by Jörg Freyr, Jan G. van der Watt, and Ruben Zimmermann. WUNT 2/200. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006. Anderson, Paul N. “The Having-Sent-Me Father — Aspects of Agency, Encounter, and Irony in the Johannine Father-Son Relationship.” Semeia 85 (1999): 33–57. Anderson, Paul N. “The Jesus of History, the Christ of Faith, and the Gospel of John.” Pages 63–81 in The Gospels: History and Christology; the Search of Joseph Ratzinger— Benedict XVI, Vol. 2. Edited by Bernardo Estrada, Ermenegildo Manicardi, and Armand Puig I Tarrech. Rome: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 2013. Anderson, Paul N. “The Johannine Logos-Hymn: A Cross-Cultural Celebration of God’s Creative-Redemptive Work.” Pages 219–42 in Creation Stories in Dialogue: The Bible, Science, and Folk Traditions. Edited by R. Alan Culpepper and Jan van der Watt. BINS 139. Leiden: Brill, 2015.
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Anderson, Paul N. “Das ‘John, Jesus, and History’-Projekt: Neue Beobachtungen zu Jesus und eine Bi-optische Hypothese.” Zeitschrift für Neues Testament 23 (2009): 12–26. Anderson, Paul N. “Mark, John, and Answerability: Interfluentiality and Dialectic between the Second and Fourth Gospels.” Liber Annuus 63 (2013): 197–245. Anderson, Paul N. “On Guessing Points and Naming Stars—The Epistemological Origins of John’s Christological Tensions.” Pages 311–45 in The Gospel of St. John and Christian Theology. Edited by Richard Bauckham and Carl Mosser. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007. Anderson, Paul N. “On Jesus: Quests for Historicity, and the History of Recent Quests.” QRT 94 (2000): 5–39. Anderson, Paul N. “On ‘Seamless Robes’ and ‘Leftover Fragments’ — A Theory of Johannine Composition.” Pages 169–218 in The Origins of John's Gospel, Vol. 2: Structure, Composition, and Authorship of John’s Gospel. Edited by Stanley E. Porter and Hughson Ong. Leiden: Brill, 2015. Anderson, Paul N. “The Origin and Development of the Johannine Egō Eimi Sayings in Cognitive-Critical Perspective.” JSHJ 9 (2011): 139–206. Anderson Paul N. The Riddles of the Fourth Gospel: An Introduction to John. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2011. Anderson, Paul N. “The Sitz im Leben of the Johannine Bread of Life Discourse and Its Evolving Context.” Pages 1–59 in Critical Readings of John 6. Edited by Alan Culpepper. BInS 22. Leiden: Brill, 1997. Anderson, Paul N. “‘You Have the Words of Eternal Life!’ Is Peter Presented as Returning the Keys of the Kingdom to Jesus in John 6:68?” Neotestamentica 41.1 (2007): 6–41. Anderson Paul N., Felix Just, S.J., and Tom Thatcher, eds. John, Jesus, and History. Volume 1: Critical Appraisals of Critical Views. SBLSymS 44. Atlanta: SBL, 2007. Anderson Paul N., Felix Just, S.J., and Tom Thatcher, eds. John, Jesus, and History. Volume 2: Aspects of Historicity in the Fourth Gospel. SBLECL 2. Atlanta: SBL, 2009. Anderson Paul N., Felix Just, S.J., and Tom Thatcher, eds. John, Jesus, and History, Volume 3: Glimpses of Jesus through the Johannine Lens. SBLECL 18. Atlanta: SBL, 2016. Aquinas, Thomas. Catena Aurea: Commentary on the Four Gospels, Vol. IV. St. John. London: Baronius Press, 2009. Ashby, Godfrey. “The Lamb of God — II.” Journal of Theology for Southern Africa 25 (1978): 62–65. Ashton, John. Understanding the Fourth Gospel. Oxford: Clarendon, 1991. Attridge, Harold W. “Divine Sovereignty and Human Responsibility in the Fourth Gospel.” Pages 183–99 in Revealed Wisdom: Studies in Apocalyptic in honour of Christopher Rowland. Edited by John Ashton. AJEC 88. Leiden and New York: Brill, 2014. Attridge, Harold W. “Genre Bending in the Fourth Gospel.” JBL 121 (2002): 3–21. Attridge, Harold W. “Genre Matters,” Pages 27–46 in The Gospel of John as Genre Mosaic, June 2014. Edited by Kasper Bro Larsen. Studia Aarhusiana Neotestamentica 3. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2015. Attridge, Harold W. “John, Jesus, and Philosophy.” Paper presented at McAfee School of Theology, Mercer University “John and Judaism” Symposium. Atlanta, GA, 19 November 2015. Attridge, Harold W. “The Restless Quest for the Beloved Disciple.” Pages 71–80 in Early Christian Voices: In Texts, Traditions, and Symbols: Essays in Honor of François Bovon. Edited by David H. Warren, Ann Graham Brock, and David W. Pao. BIS 66. Leiden: Brill, 2003. Auerbach, Erich. Mimesis: The Representation of Reality in Western Literature. Translated by Willard R. Trask. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1953.
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Aune, David E. The New Testament in Its Literary Environment. LEC 8. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1987. Aune, David E. Prophecy in Early Christianity and the Ancient Mediterranean World. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1983. Aviam, Mordechai. “The Decorated Stone from the Synagogue at Migdal: A Holistic Interpretation and a Glimpse into the Life of Galilean Jews at the Time of Jesus.” NovT 55.1 (2013): 205–220. Aviam, Mordechai. “Distribution Maps of Archaeological Data from the Galilee: An Attempt to Establish Zones Indicative of Ethnicity and Religious Affiliation.” Pages 115–32 in Religion, Ethnicity, and Identity in Ancient Galilee: A Region in Transition. Edited by Harold W. Attridge, Jürgen Zangenberg, and Dale Martin. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007. Aviam, Mordechai. Jews, Pagans and Christians in the Galilee. Rochester: University of Rochester Press, 2004. Avigad, Nahman. Discovering Jerusalem. Nashville: Nelson, 1983. Bacon, Benjamin W. The Fourth Gospel in Research and Debate: A Series of Essays on Problems Concerning the Origin and Value of the Anonymous Writings attributed to the Apostle John. New York: Moffatt, Yard and Co., 1910. Badcock, F.J. “A Note on St. John ii.20.” ExpTim 47 (1935): 40–41. Bahat, Dan. “Jerusalem Down Under: Tunneling Along Herod’s Temple Mount.” BAR 21 (1995): 30–47. Bahat, Dan. The Jerusalem Western Wall Tunnel. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 2013. Barker, James W. John’s Use of Matthew. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 2015. Barrett, Charles K. Das Evangelium nach Johannes. KEK. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1990. Barrett, Charles K. “The Dialectical Theology of St. John.” Pages 49–69 in New Testament Essays. London: SCM, 1972. Barrett, Charles K. The Gospel according to St. John. 2nd ed. London: SPCK; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1978. Barrett, Charles K. “The Lamb of God.” NTS 1 (1955): 210–18. Barrett, Charles K. “The Old Testament in the Fourth Gospel,” JTS 48 (1947): 155–69. Bauckham, Richard., ed. The Gospels for All Christians: Rethinking the Gospel Audiences. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1998). Bauckham, Richard. Jesus and the Gospels: The Gospels as Eyewitness Testimony. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006. Bauckham, Richard. The Testimony of the Beloved Disciple: Narrative, History, and Theology in the Gospel of John. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007. Bauer, Walter. Das Johannesevangelium erklärt. 3rd ed. HKNT 6. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1933. Baum-Bodenbender, Rosel. Hoheit in Niedrigkeit: Johanneische Christologie im Prozess Jesu vor Pilatus (Joh 18,28-19,16a). Würzburg: Echter, 1984. Beasley-Murray, George R.. John WBC 36. Waco, TX: Word, 1987. Becker, Jürgen. Das Evangelium des Johannes. 2 vols. 3d ed. ÖTKNT 4.1–2. Gütersloh: Mohn; Würzburg: Echter, 1991. Beck, David R. The Discipleship Paradigm: Readers and Anonymous Characters in the Fourth Gospel. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1997. Beck, David R. “The Narrative Function of Anonymity in Fourth Gospel Characterization.” Semeia 63 (1993): 143–58.
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Becker, Jürgen. Johanneisches Christentum. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004. Belle, Gilbert Van, and David R. M. Godecharle. “C. H. Dodd on John 13:16 (and 15:20): St John’s Knowledge of Matthew Revisited.” Pages 86–106 in Engaging with C. H. Dodd on the Gospel of John: Sixty Years of Tradition and Interpretation. Edited by Tom Thatcher and Catrin H. Williams. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013. Bellinzoni, A. J. The Sayings of Jesus in the Writings of Justin Martyr. NovTSup 17. Leiden: Brill, 1967. Bennema, Cornelis. Encountering Jesus: Character Studies in the Gospel of John. 2nd ed. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2014. Berger, Klaus. Im Anfang war Johannes: Datierung und Theologie des vierten Evangeliums. Stuttgart: Quell, 1997. Bergmeier, Roland. Zwischen Synoptikern und Gnosis – ein viertes Evangelium. NTOA/ SUNT 108. Gottingen: Vandenhoeck u. Ruprecht, 2015. Bernard, J. H. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to St. John, 2 vols. ICC. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1928. Bernier, Jonathan. Aposynagogos and the Historical Jesus in John: Rethinking the Historicity of the Johannine Expulsion Passages. BIS 122. Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2013. Beutler, Johannes. Martyria: Traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zum Zeugnisthema bei Johannes, Frankfurter Theologische Studien 10. Frankfurt am Main: Knecht, 1972. Beutler, Johannes. “‘Reich Gottes’ im Johannesevangelium.” Paper presented at the Inhalte und Probleme einer neutestamentlichen Theologie seminar at the 69th annual meeting of the SNTS. Szeged, Hungary, 8 August 2014. Black, D. A. and J. N. Cerone, eds. The Pericope of the Adulteress in Contemporary Research. London: T&T Clark, 2016. Black, Matthew. “The Messiah in the Testament of Levi XVIII.” ExpT 60 (1948– 49): 321–22, Bloch, Marc. The Historian’s Craft. New York: Vintage Books, 1953. Blomberg, Craig L. The Historical Reliability of John’s Gospel: Issues and Commentary. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2002. Boismard, Marie-Émile. “Aenon, près de Salem (Jean, III, 23).” RevBib 80.2 (1973): 218–29. Boismard, Marie-Émile. Moses or Jesus. Translated by B.T. Viviano. Leuven: Peeters Press; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993. Translation of Moïse ou Jésus. Bibliotheca Ephemeridum Theologicarum Lovaniensium 84. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1988. Boismard, Marie-Émile and Arnaud Lamouille. Un Évangile Pré-Johannique I- II. Paris: Gabalda, 1993, 1994. Boismard, Marie-Émile, Arnaud Lamouille, and G. Rochais. L’Évangile de Jean. Vol. 3 of Synopse des quatre évangiles en français. 2nd ed. Paris: Éditions du Cerf, 1977. Borchert, Gerald L. John 1-11. The New American Commentary 25A. Nashville: Broadman & Holman Publishers, 1996. Borg, Marcus J. Jesus in Contemporary Scholarship. Valley Forge: Trinity Press International, 1994. Borg, Marcus J. “The Jesus Seminar from the Inside.” QRT 98 (2002): 21–27. Borgen, Peder. Bread from Heaven: An Exegetical Study of the Concept of Manna in the Gospel of John and the Writings of Philo. NovTSup 10. Leiden: Brill, 1965. Borgen, Peder. Early Christianity and Hellenistic Judaism. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996. Borgen, Peder. “John and the Synoptics in the Passion Narrative,” Pages 103–19 in The Gospel of John: More Light from Philo, Paul, and Archaeology. The Scriptures, Tradition, Exposition, Settings, Meanings. NovTSup 154. Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2014.
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Borgen, Peder. “The Prologue of John – An Exposition of the Old Testament.” Pages 75–96 in Philo, John and Paul: New Perspectives on Judaism and Early Christianity. BJS. Atlanta: Scholar’s Press, 1987. Bovon, François. Luke the Theologian: Thirty-Three Years of Research (1950–1983). Translated by Ken McKinney. Allison Park, PA: Pickwick, 1987. Boyarin, Daniel. “Le Christ souffrant, un midrash juif.” La Vie Spirituelle 796 (2011): 433–50. Brant, Jo-Ann A. John. Paideia; Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011. Breisach, Ernst. Historiography: Ancient, Medieval, and Modern. 3rd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2007. Brodie, Thomas L. The Gospel according to John: A Literary and Theological Commentary. New York: Oxford University Press, 1993. Brodie, Thomas L. The Quest for the Origin of John’s Gospel: A Source-Oriented Approach. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993. Brown, Raymond E. Birth of the Messiah. New York: Doubleday, 1977. Brown, Raymond E. Community of the Beloved Disciple. New York: Paulist, 1979. Brown, Raymond E. “The Dead Sea Scrolls and the New Testament.” Pages 1–8 in John and Qumran. Edited by James H. Charlesworth. London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1972. Brown, Raymond E. The Death of the Messiah I-II. ABRL. New York: Doubleday, 1994. Brown, Raymond E. The Gospel according to John, 2 vols. AB 29, 29A. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1966, 1970. Brown, Raymond E. An Introduction to the Gospel of John. Edited by Francis J. Moloney. ABRL. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2003. Brown, Raymond E. New Testament Essays. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1965. Brownlee, William H. “A Comparison of the Covenanters of the Dead Sea Scrolls with Pre-Christian Jewish Sects.” BA 13 (1950): 50–72. Brownlee, William H. “Messianic Motifs of Qumran and the New Testament.” NTS 3 (1956): 12–30. Bruce, A. B. “Matthew.” Pages 61–340 in The Expositor’s Greek Testament, Vol. 1. Edited by W. Robertson Nicoll. New York: Hodder & Stoughton, 1897. Bruce, F. F. “Holy Spirit in the Qumran Texts.” ALUOS 6 (1966): 49–55. Bruce, F. F. New Testament History. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1972. Bruce, F. F. “Qumrân and Early Christianity.” NTS 2 (1956): 176–90. Bruce, F. F. The Time Is Fulfilled. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1979. Brunner, Dale. The Gospel of John: A Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012. Buckley, Eric R. An Introduction to the Synoptic Problem. London: E. Arnold, 1912. Bultmann, R. The Gospel of John: A Commentary. Translated by G. Beasley-Murray, R. W. N. Hoare, and J. K. Riches. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1971. Translation of Das Evangelium des Johannes. KEK 2. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1941. With the supplement of 1966. Bundy, Walter Ernest. Jesus and the First Three Gospels: An Introduction to the Synoptic Tradition. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1955. Burridge, Richard A. “Genres of the Old and New Testaments: Gospels.” Pages 432–44 in The Oxford Handbook of Biblical Studies. Edited by John Rogerson and Judith M. Lieu. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006. Burridge, Richard A. What Are the Gospels? A Comparison with Graeco-Roman Biography. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004. Buse, Ivor. “The Cleansing of the Temple in the Synoptics and in John.” ExpTim 70 (1958–59): 22–24.
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Byrskog, Samuel. Story as History – History as Story: The Gospel Tradition in the Context of Ancient Oral History. WUNT 2/106. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2000. Cadoux, Arthur Temple. The Sources of the Second Gospel. London: J. Clarke, 1935. Carey, G. L. “The Lamb of God and Atonement Theories.” TynBul 32 (1981): 97–122. Carr, E. H. What Is History? Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1961. Carson, Donald A. The Gospel according to John. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991. Casey, Maurice. Is John’s Gospel True? London and New York: Routledge, 1996. Cassidy, Richard J. John’s Gospel in New Perspective: Christology and the Realities of Roman Power. 3rd ed. 2015. Johannine Monograph Series 3. Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 1992. Casurella, Anthony. The Johannine Paraclete in the Early Church: A Study in the History of Exegesis. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1983. Chamberlin, T. C. “The Method of Multiple Working Hypotheses.” Science 148 (1965): 754–59. Chapple, Allan. “Jesus’ Intervention in the Temple: Once or Twice?” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 58 (2015): 545–69. Charlesworth, James H. “Anguine Iconography in the Studium Biblicum Franciscanum Museum and Biblical Exegesis.” Liber Annuus 49 (1999): 431–42. Charlesworth, James H. The Beloved Disciple: Whose Witness Validates the Gospel of John? Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1995. Charlesworth, James H. “Biblical Archaeology: Good Grounds for Faith.” U.S. Catholic 59 (1994): 14–19. Charlesworth, James H. “Can We Discern the Composition Date of the Parables of Enoch?” Pages 450–68 in Enoch and the Messiah Son of Man: Revisiting the Book of Parables. Edited by Gabriele Boccaccini. Grand Rapids and Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 2007. Charlesworth, James H. “The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Gospel according to John.” Pages 65–97 in Exploring the Gospel of John: In Honor of D. Moody Smith. Edited by R. Alan Culpepper and C. Clifton Black. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1996. Charlesworth, James H. “Il figlio dell’uomo, il primo giudaismo, Gesù e la cristologia delle origini.” Pages 87–110 in Il Messia: Tra Memoria e Attesa. Edited by Gabriele Boccaccini. Brescia: Editrice Morcelliana, 2005. Charlesworth, James H. “From Old to New: Paradigm Shifts Concerning Judaism, the Gospel of John, Jesus and the Advent of ‘Christianity’.” Pages 56–72 in Jesus Research: An International Perspective. The First Princeton-Prague Symposium on Jesus Research. Edited by James H. Charlesworth and Petr Pokorný. Grand Rapids, MI and Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 2009. Charlesworth, James H. The Good and Evil Serpent: How a Universal Symbol Became Christianized. AYBRL. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010. Charlesworth, James H. “Had die Archäologie Bedeutung für die Jesus-Forschung?” EvT 68 (2008): 246–65. Charlesworth, James H. “The Historical Jesus in the Fourth Gospel: A Paradigm Shift?” JSHJ 8 (2010): 3–46. Charlesworth, James H. Jesus as Mirrored in John: The Genius in the New Testament. London: T&T Clark, 2018. Charlesworth, James H. “Jesus Research and Archaeology.” Pages 439–66 in The World of the New Testament. Edited by Joel B. Green and Lee M. McDonald. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2013. Charlesworth, James H. “Jesus Research and Near Eastern Archaeology: Reflections on Recent Developments.” Pages 37–70 in Neotestamentica et Philonica: Studies in Honor
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of Peder Borgen. Edited by D. E. Aune, T. Seland, and J. H. Ulrichsen. Supplements to Novum Testamentum 106. Leiden: Brill, 2003. Charlesworth, James H. “The Johannine Community and Its Jewish Background.” DIWA 38.1 (2013) 46–51. Charlesworth, James H. The Millennium Guide for Pilgrims to the Holy Land. North Richland Hills, TX: BIBAL Press, 2000. Charlesworth, James H. The Pesharim and Qumran History: Chaos or Consensus? Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002. Charlesworth, James H. “Phenomenology, Symbology, and Lexicography: The Amazingly Rich Vocabulary for ‘Serpent’ in Ancient Greek.” RB 111 (2004): 499–515. Charlesworth, James H. “The Priority of John? Reflections on the Essenes and the First Edition of John.” Pages 73–114 in Für und wider die Priorität des Johannesevangeliums: Symposium in Salzburg am 10. März 2000. Edited by P.L. Hofrichter. Theologische Texte und Studien 9. Hildesheim, Zürich, New York: Georg Olms Verlag, 2002. Charlesworth, James H. “Revealing the Genius of Biblical Authors: Symbology, Archaeology, and Theology.” Communio Viatorum 46 (2004): 124–40. Charlesworth, James H. “The Symbology of the Serpent in the Gospel of John.” Pages 63–72 in John, Jesus, and History: Aspects of Historicity in the Fourth Gospel, Vol 2. Edited by Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, and Tom Thatcher. Atlanta: SBL, 2009. Charlesworth, James H. “The Tale of Two Pools: Archaeology and the Book of John.” Near East Archaeological Society Bulletin 56 (2011): 1–14. Charlesworth, James H. “Teologia biblica e simbolismo del serpent.” Pages 81–114 in Voci dall’area santuariale di Lanuvium: Un percorso storico-religioso con ricadute nel presente. Edited by Marcello Del Verme. Bornato in Franciacorta: Sardini Editrice, 2013. Charlesworth. James H. “An Unknown Dead Sea Scroll and Speculations Focused on the Vorlage of Deuteronomy 27:4.” Pages 393–414 in Jesus, Paulus und die Texte von Qumran. Edite by Jörg Frey and Enno E. Popkes. WUNT 2/390. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2014. Charlesworth, James H. “An Unknown Dead Sea Scrolls Fragment of Deuteronomy XXVII 4-6.” The Samaritan News 1019–20 (2008): 64–68. Charlesworth, James H. “What Is a Variant? Announcing a Dead Sea Scrolls Fragment of Deuteronomy.” MAARAV 16.2 (2009): 201–12. Charlesworth, James H., ed. Jesus and Archaeology. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006. Charlesworth, James H., ed. Jesus and Temple: Textual and Archaeological Explorations. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2014. Charlesworth, James H., ed. The Messiah: Developments in earliest Judaism and Christianity. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992. Charlesworth, James H., and Darrell L. Bock, eds. Parables of Enoch: A Paradigm Shift. London: T&T Clark, 2013. Charlesworth, James H., with Henry W. L. Rietz, eds. Pesharim, Other Commentaries, and Related Documents. Princeton Theological Seminary Dead Sea Scrolls Project 6B. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2002. Charlesworth, James H., with Walter P. Weaver, eds. What Has Archaeology to Do with Faith? Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1992. Charlesworth, James H., Henry W. Morisada Rietz, and Loren L. Johns, eds. Temple Scroll and Related Documents. Princeton Theological Seminary Dead Sea Scrolls Project 7. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011. Charlesworth, James H., and Petr Pokorný, eds. Jesus Research: An International Perspective. The First Princeton-Prague Symposium on Jesus Research. Grand Rapids, MI and Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 2009.
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Charlesworth, James H., with Brian Rhea, and Petr Pokorný, eds. Jesus Research: New Methodologies and Perceptions. The Second Princeton-Prague Symposium on Jesus Research. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2014. Chilton, Bruce. Judaic Approaches to the Gospels. University of South Florida International Studies in Formative Christianity and Judaism 2. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1994. Chilton, Bruce. “Mamzerut and Jesus.” Pages 17–33 in Jesus from Judaism to Christianity: Continuum Approaches to the Historical Jesus. Edited by T. Holmen. LNTS 352. London: T&T Clark, 2007. Clay, Diskin. Platonic Questions: Dialogues with the Silent Philosopher. University Park, PA: Penn State, 2000. Collins, Adela Yarbro. Mark: A Commentary. Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007. Collins, John J. The Scepter and the Star: The Messiahs of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Other Ancient Literature. New York: Doubleday, 1995. Collins, John J. “The Son of Man in First-Century Judaism.” NTS 38 (1992): 448–66. Coloe, Mary L. Dwelling in the Household of God: Johannine Ecclesiology and Spirituality. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2007. Coloe, Mary L. God Dwells with Us: Temple Symbolism in the Fourth Gospel. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2001. Coloe, Mary L. and Tom Thatcher, eds. Qumran and the Dead Sea Scrolls: Sixty Years of Discovery and Debate. Early Judaism and Its Literature 32. Atlanta: SBL Press 2011. Conway, Colleen M. “New Historicism and the Historical Jesus in John: Friends or Foes?” Pages 199–216 in John, Jesus, and History, Volume 1: Critical Appraisals of Critical Views. Edited by Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, and Tom Thatcher. SBLSymS 44. Atlanta: SBL, 2007. Conway, Coleen M. “There and Back Again: Johannine History on the Other Side of Literary Criticism.” Pages 77–91 in Anatomies of Narrative Criticism: The Past, Present, and Futures of the Fourth Gospel as Literature. Edited by Tom Thatcher and Stephen D. Moore. Resources for Biblical Study 55. Leiden: Brill, 2008. Conzelmann, Hans. The Theology of St. Luke. Translated by G. Buswell. New York: Harper & Row ; London: Faber & Faber, 1960. Corbett, Joey. “New Synagogue Excavations in Israel and Beyond.” BAR 37.4 (2011): 52–59. Corbishley, Thomas. “The Chronology of the Reign of Herod the Great.” JTS 36 (1935): 22–27. Couturier, Guy. “Jésus baptisé à Béthanie?” Parabole 22.4 (2000): 16. Cribbs, Lamar. “A Study of the Contacts that Exist between St Luke and St John.” SBL 1973 Seminar Papers (1973): 1–93. Crossan, John Dominic. “The Relationship Between Galilean Archaeology and Historical Jesus Research.” Pages 151–161 in The Archaeology of Difference: Gender, Ethnicity, Class and the ‘Other’ in Antiquity. Studies in Honor of Eric M. Meyers. Edited by Douglas R. Edwards and C. Thomas McCollough. Boston: ASOR, 2007. Crossan, John D., and Jonathan L. Reed. Excavating Jesus. New York: HarperCollins, 2001. Crossly, James G. “Can John’s Gospel Really be Used to Reconstruct a Life of Jesus? An Assessment of Recent Trends and a Defense of a Traditional View.” Pages 163–84 in “Is This Not the Carpenter?” The Question of the Historicity of the Figure of Jesus. Edited by Thomas L. Thompson and Thomas S. Verenna. Sheffield: Equinox, 2012. Cullmann, Oscar. The Christology of the New Testament. London: SCM, 1959. Cullmann, Oscar. “Der johanneische Gebrauch doppeldeutiger Ausdrücke als Schlüssel zum Verständnis des vierten Evangeliums.” Pages 176–86 in Vorträge und Aufsätze 1925-1962. Edited by Karlfried Fröhlich. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1966.
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Culpepper, R. Alan. Anatomy of the Fourth Gospel: A Study in Literary Design. Foundations and Facets. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1983. Culpepper, R. Alan. The Johannine School. SBLDS 26. Missoula: Scholars Press, 1975. Culpepper, R. Alan. “Nicodemus: The Travail of New Birth.” Pages 24–59 in Character Studies in the Fourth Gospel: Literary Approaches to Sixty-Seven Figures in John. Edited by Steven A. Hunt, D. Francois Tolmie, and Ruben Zimmermann. WUNT 2/314. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013. Culpepper, R. Alan and Paul N. Anderson, eds. Communities in Dispute: Current Scholarship on the Johannine Epistles. Early Christianity and Its Literature 13. Atlanta: SBL Press, 2014. Curtis, K. P. G. “Three Points of Contact between Matthew and John in the Burial and Resurrection Narratives.” JTS 23 (1972): 440–44. Dahl, Nils. The Crucified Messiah and Other Essays. Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1974. Dahl, Nils. “The Passion Narrative in Matthew.” Pages 37–51 in idem, Jesus in the Memory of the Early Church. Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg, 1976. Daise, Michael A. “Quotations with ‘Remembrance’ Formulae in the Fourth Gospel.” In Abiding Words: The Use of Scripture in the Gospel of John. Edited by Alicia D. Myers and Bruce G. Schuchard. RBS 81. Atlanta: SBL, 2015. Daly-Denton, Margaret. David in the Fourth Gospel. Boston: Brill, 2000. Daube, David. The New Testament and Rabbinic Judaism. London: University of London, 1956. Dauer, Anton. Die Passionsgeschichte im Johannesevangelium: Eine traditionsgeschichtliche und theologische Untersuchung zu Joh 18,1-19,30, SANT 30. Munich: Kösel, 1972. Davies, W. D., and Dale C. Allison, Jr. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew. 3 vols. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1991. Dawson, Lorne L. “Prophetic Failure in Millennial Movements.” Pages 150–70 in The Oxford Handbook of Millennialism. Edited by Catherine Wessinger. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011. De Boer, Esther A. Mary Magdalene: Beyond the Myth. London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 1997. Deines, Roland. Jüdische Steingefässe und pharisäische Frömmigkeit: eine archäologischhistorischer Beitrag zum Verständnis von Joh 2,6 und der jüdischen Reinheitshalacha zur Zeit Jesu. WUNT 2/52. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1993. de Jonge, Henk Jan. “The Cleansing of the Temple in Mark 11:15 and Zechariah 14:21.” Pages 87–99 in The Book of Zechariah and Its Influence. Edited by Christopher Tuckett. Aldershot, Hampshire: Ashgate, 2003. de Jonge, Marinus. Jesus: Stranger from Heaven and Son of God, Jesus Christ and the Christians in Johannine Perspective. SBLSBS 11. Missoula, MT: Scholars, 1977. De Luca, Stefano and Anna Lena. “The Harbor of the City of Magdala/Taricheae on the Shores of the Sea of Galilee, from the Hellenistic to the Byzantine Times: New Discoveries and Preliminary Results.” Pages 113–64 in Harbors and Harbor Cities in the Eastern Mediterranean from Antiquity to the Byzantine Period: Recent Discoveries and Current Approaches. Edited by S. Ladstätter, F. Pirson, and T. Schmidts. Istanbul: Zero Books, 2011. Dietzfelbinger, Christian. Das Evangelium nach Johannes, Teilband I: Johannes 1–12; Teilband 2: Johannes 13–21. ZBK 4.1-2. Zürich: Theologischer Verlag, 2001. Díez Merino, Luis. “El cordero de Dios en el Nuevo Testamento y en el Targum.” Estudios Bíblicos 64.3–4 (2006): 581–611.
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Dodd, Charles H. Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1963. Dodd, Charles H. The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1958. Donahue, John R. Are You the Christ? The Trial Narrative in the Gospel of Mark. SBLDS 10. Missoula: SBL, 1973. Duke, Paul D. Irony in the Fourth Gospel. Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1985. Dunderberg, Ismo. “How Far Can You Go? Jesus, John, the Synoptics and Other Texts.” Pages 347–66 in Beyond the Gnostic Gospels: Studies Building on the Work of Elaine Pagels. Edited by Eduard Iricinschi, Lance Jenott, Nicola Denzey Lewis, and Philippa Townsend. STAC 82. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013. Dunderberg, Ismo. Johannes und die Synoptiker: Studien zu Joh 1-9. AASF Dissertationes Humanarum Litterarum 69. Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia, 1994. Dunderberg, Ismo. “Johannine Anomalies and the Synoptics.” Pages 108–25 in New Readings in John: Literary and Theological Perspectives. Essays from the Scandinavian Conference on the Fourth Gospel Århus 1997. Edited by Johannes Nissen and Sigfred Pedersen. JSNTSup 182. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999. Dunn, James D. G. Baptism in the Holy Spirit: A Re-examination of the New Testament Teaching on the Gift of the Spirit in Relation to Pentecostalism Today. SBT 2/15. London: SCM, 1970. Dunn, James D. G.. “Let John Be John: A Gospel for Its Time.” Pages 293–322 in The Gospel and the Gospels. Edited by Peter Stuhlmacher. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991. Dunn, James D. G. The Oral Gospel Tradition. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013. Dupont-Sommer, André. The Essene Writings from Qumran. Translated by Geza Vermes. Oxford: Blackwell, 1961. Duprez, Antoine. Jésus et les dieux guérisseurs. Paris: J. Gabalda, 1970. Edelstein, Emma J., Ludwig Edelstein, and Gary B. Ferngren. Asclepius: Collection and Interpretation of the Testimonies. Baltimore and London: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1998. Edwards, Ruth B. Discovering John: Content, Interpretation, Reception. 2nd ed. London: SPCK, 2014. Elgvin, Torleif. “The Individual Interpretation of the Servant.” Mishkan 43 (2005): 25–33. Ellis, Peter F. The Genius of John: A Composition–Critical Commentary on the Fourth Gospel. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1984. Enz, Jacob J. “The Book of Exodus as a Literary Type for the Gospel of John.” JBL 76.3 (1957): 208–15. Eppstein, Victor. “The Historicity of the Gospel Account of the Cleansing of the Temple.” ZNW 55 (1964): 42–58. Evans, Richard J. In Defense of History. New York: Norton, 1999. Farelly, Nicholas. The Disciples in the Fourth Gospel: A Narrative Analysis of their Faith and Understanding. WUNT 2/290. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010. Farrell, Joseph. “Classical Genre in Theory and Practice.” New Literary History 34.3 (2003): 383–408. Fehribach, Adeline. The Women in Life of the Bridegroom: A Feminist Historical-Literary Analysis of the Female Characters in the Fourth Gospel. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1998. Feldman, Louis H. “Josephus: Interpretive Methods and Tendencies.” Pages 590–96 in Dictionary of New Testament Background. Edited by Craig A. Evans and Stanley E. Porter. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2000.
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Finegan, Jack. Handbook of Biblical Chronology. Rev. ed. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1998. Fischer, David Hackett. Historians’ Fallacies: Toward a Logic of Historical Thought. New York: Harper, 1970. Fischer, Karl Martin. “Der johanneische Christus und der gnostische Erlöser.” Pages 245–66 in Gnosis und Neues Testament. Edited by K. W. Tröger. Berlin: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 1973. Fletcher-Louis, C. H. T. Jesus Monotheism, Volume 1: Christological Origins: The Emerging Consensus and Beyond. Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2015. Flowers, Harold J. “En pneumati hagiō kai puri.” ExpTim 64.5 (1953): 155–56. Förster, Hans. “Die Begegnung am Brunnen (Joh 4.4-42) im Licht der ‘Schrift’: Überlegungen zu den Samaritanern im Johannesevangelium.” NTS 61.2 (2015): 201–08. Fortna, Robert T. The Fourth Gospel and Its Predecessors: From Narrative Source to Present Gospel. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1988. Fortna, Robert T. The Gospel of Signs: A Reconstruction of the Narrative Source Underlying the Fourth Gospel. SNTSMS 11. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1970. Fortna, Robert T. “Jesus Tradition in the Signs Gospel.” Pages 199–208 in Jesus in Johannine Tradition. Edited by Robert T. Fortna and Tom Thatcher. Louisville, London, and Leiden: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001. Fortna, Robert T., and Tom Thatcher, eds. Jesus in Johannine Tradition. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2001. Foster, Paul. “The Epistles of Ignatius of Antioch and the Writings that later formed the New Testament.” Pages 159–86 in The Reception of the New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers. Edited by Andrew F. Gregory and Christopher M. Tuckett. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005. Foster, Paul. “Memory, Orality, and the Fourth Gospel: Three Dead-Ends in Historical Jesus Research.” JSHJ 10 (2012): 191–227. Fredrickson, David. “Parrêsia in the Pauline Epistles.” Pages 163–84 in Friendship, Flattery, and Frankness of Speech: Studies on Friendship in the New Testament World. Edited by John T. Fitzgerald. NovTSup 82. Leiden: Brill, 1996. Fredriksen, Paula. “The Historical Jesus, the Scene in the Temple, and the Gospel of John.” Pages 249–76 in John, Jesus, and History, Volume 1: Critical Appraisals of Critical Views. Edited by Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, S. J., and Tom Thatcher. SBLSS 44. Atlanta: SBL, 2007. Fredriksen, Paula. Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews: A Jewish Life and the Emergence of Christianity. New York: Knopf, 1999. Freed, Edwin D. Old Testament Quotations in the Gospel of John. NovTSup 11. Leiden: Brill, 1965. Freed, Edwin D. “Samaritan Influence in the Gospel of John.” CBQ 30 (1968): 580–87. Frey, Jörg. Die Herrlichkeit des Gekreuzigten: Studien zu den Johanneischen Schriften I. WUNT 307. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013. Frey, Jörg. Die johanneische Eschatologie: Das johanneische Zeitverständnis. WUNT 110. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1998. Frickenschmidt, Dirk. Evangelium als Biographie: Die vier Evangelien im Rahmen antiker Erzählkunst. TANZ 22. Tübingen: Francke, 1997. Funk, Robert W. Honest to Jesus: Jesus for a New Millennium. San Francisco: Harper, 1996. Funk, Robert W., and the Jesus Seminar. The Acts of Jesus: The Search for the Authentic Deeds of Jesus. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1998.
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Funk, Robert W., Roy W. Hoover, and the Jesus Seminar. The Five Gospels: The Search for the Authentic Words of Jesus. New York: HarperCollins, 1997. Gaddis, John Lewis. The Landscape of History: How Historians Map the Past. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002. Gardner-Smith, Percival. Saint John and the Synoptic Gospels. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1948. Gardner-Smith, Percival. “St. John’s Knowledge of Matthew.” JTS 4 (1953): 31–35. Giblin, C. H. “Suggestion, Negative Response and Positive Action in St. John’s Portrayal of Jesus (John 2:1-11; 4:46-54; 7:2-14; 11:1-44).” NTS 26 (1980): 197–211. Gibson, Shimon. “The Pool of Bethesda in Jerusalem and Jewish Purification Practices of the Second Temple Period.” Proche-Orient Chrétien 55 (2005): 270–93. Gibson, Shimon. “Stone Vessels of the Early Roman Period from Jerusalem and Palestine: A Reassessment.” Pages 287–308 in One Land – Many Cultures: Archaeological Studies in Honour of S. Loffreda. Edited by G. Claudio Bottini, Leah Di Segni, and L. Daniel Chupcala. Studium Biblicum Franciscanum Collectio Maior 41. Jerusalem, 2003. Gibson, Shimon. “The Trial of Jesus at the Jerusalem Praetorium: New Archaeological Evidence.” Pages 97–118 in The World of Jesus and the Early Church: Identity and Interpretation in Early Communities of Faith. Edited by Craig A. Evans. Peabody : Hendrickson, 2011. Gilbert, George H. “Exegetical Notes: John, Chapter I.” Biblical World 13 (1899): 42–46. Goodman, Martin. State and Society in Roman Galilee, A.D. 132–212. Totowa, NJ: Rowman & Allanheld, 1983. Gray, Rebecca. Prophetic Figures in Late Second Temple Jewish Palestine: The Evidence from Josephus. New York: Oxford University Press, 1993. Grigsby, Bruce H. “The Cross as an Expiatory Sacrifice in the Fourth Gospel.” JSNT 15 (1982): 51–80. Grotius, Hugo. Annotationes in Libros Evangeliorum. Amsterdam: Ioh. & Cornelium, 1641. Gundry, Robert H. Matthew: A Commentary on his Literary and Theological Art. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982. Haenchen, Ernst. John: A Commentary on the Gospel of John. 2 vols. Edited and translated by Robert W. Funk. Hermeneia. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984. Translation of Johannes Evangelium: ein Kommentar. Edited by U. Busse. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1980. Hägg, Thomas. The Art of Biography in Antiquity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. Hakola, Raimo. “The Burden of Ambiguity: Nicodemus and the Social Identity of the Johannine Christians.” NTS 55 (2009): 438–55. Hakola, Raimo. “The Counsel of Caiaphas and the Social Identity of the Johannine Community (John 11:46–53).” Pages 140–63 in Lux Humana, Lux Aeterna: Essays on Biblical and Related Themes in Honour of Lars Aejmelaeus. Edited by A. Mustakallio in collaboration with H. Leppä and H. Räisänen. Publications of the Finnish Exegetical Society 89. Helsinki and Göttingen: Finnish Exegetical Society and Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2005. Hanson, K. C. and Douglas E. Oakman. Palestine in the Time of Jesus: Social Structures and Social Conflicts. 2nd ed. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2008. Harstine, Stanley. Moses as a Character in the Fourth Gospel: A Study of Ancient Reading Techniques. JSNT 229. London: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002. Hartog, Paul. Polycarp and the New Testament: The Occasion, Rhetoric, Theme and Unity of the Epistle to the Philippians and Its Allusions to New Testament Literature. WUNT 2/134. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002.
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Heil, Christoph. “Jesus aus Nazaret oder Bethlehem?: Historische Tradition und ironischer Stil im Johannesevangelium.” Pages 109–30 in Im Geist und in der Wahrheit: Studien zum Johannesevangelium und zur Offenbarung des Johannes sowie andere Beiträge, FS M. Hasitschka. Edited by Konrad Huber and Boris Repschinski. NTA NF 52. Münster: Aschendorff, 2008. Henderson, Jordan. “Josephus’s Life and Jewish War Compared to the Synoptic Gospels.” Journal of Greco-Roman Christianity and Judaism 10 (2014): 113–31. Hengel, Martin. The Charismatic Leader and His Followers. Edite by John Riches. Translated by James Greig. New York: Crossroad, 1981. Hengel, Martin. Die johanneische Frage: Ein Lösungsversuch. WUNT 67. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1993. Hengel, Martin. “Die Schriftauslegung des 4. Evangeliums auf dem Hintergrund der urchristlichen Exegese.” Pages 249–88 in “Gesetz” als Thema biblischer Theologie. Edited by Ingo Baldermann and Dwight R. Daniels. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1989. Hengel, Martin. The Johannine Question. London and Philadelphia: SCM and TPI, 1989. Hengel, Martin. Judentum und Hellenismus. Studien zu ihrer Begegnung unter besonderer Berücksichtigung Palästinas bis zur Mitte des 2. Jarhunderts vor Christus. 3rd ed. WUNT 10. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1988. Hengel, Martin. “The Old Testament in the Fourth Gospel.” HBT 12 (1990): 19–41. Hengel, Martin. “Reich Christi, Reich Gottes und Weltreich im Johannesevangelium.” Pages 163–84 in Königsherrschaft Gottes und himmlischer Kult im Judentum, Urchristentum und in der hellenistischen Welt. Edited by M. Hengel and Anna Maria Schwemer. WUNT 55. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1991. Hens-Piazza, Gina. The New Historicism. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2002. Herrojo, J. Caná de Galilea y su localización: un examen crítico de las Fuentes. Paris: J. Gabalda, 1999. Higgins, A. J. B. The Historicity of the Fourth Gospel. London: Lutterworth, 1960. Hill, David. New Testament Prophecy. Atlanta: John Knox, 1979. Hillyer, Norman. “‘The Lamb’ in the Apocalypse.” EvQ 39.4 (1967): 228–36. Hoehner, Harold W. Chronological Aspects of the Life of Christ. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1977. Hoehner, Harold W. Herod Antipas. SNTSMS 17. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1972. Hofbeck, Seobald. SEMEION. Der Begriff des “Zeichens” im Johannesevangelium unter Berücksichtigung seiner Vorgeschichte. Münsterschwarzacher Studien 3. Münsterschwarzach: Vier Türme, 1966. Hofrichter, Peter L. Modell und Vorlage der Synoptiker; Das vorredaktionelle “Johannesevangelium.” Theologische Text und Studien 6. Hildesheim, Zürich, and New York: Georg Olms Verlag, 1997. Holland, H. Scott. The Philosophy of Faith and the Fourth Gospel: The Fourth Gospel. London and New York: 1923. Holloway, Paul. “Left Behind: Jesus’ Consolation of His Disciples in John 13-17.” ZNW 96 (2005): 1–34. Hornblower, Simon. Commentary on Thucydides. Oxford, Oxford University, 1993. Horsley, R.A. Jesus and the Spiral of Violence. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1987. Horsley, R. A. “Popular Messianic Movements around the Time of Jesus.” CBQ 46.3 (1984): 471–95. Horsley, R. A. The Prophet Jesus and the Renewal of Israel. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012.
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Horsley, R. A. and Tom Thatcher. John, Jesus, and the Renewal of Israel. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013. Hoskyns, E. C. The Fourth Gospel. Edited by F. N. Davey. London: Faber & Faber, 1947. Howard, W. F. The Fourth Gospel in Recent Criticism and Interpretation. Edited by C. K. Barrett. 4th ed. London: Epworth, 1955. Howell, Martha C. and Walter Prevenier. Reliable Sources: An Introduction to Historical Methods. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2001. Humann, Roger J. “The Function and Form of the Explicit Old Testament Quotations in the Gospel of John.” Lutheran Theological Review 1 (1988–89): 31–54. Hunt, Steven A. Rewriting the Feeding of the Five Thousand: John 6.1-15 as a Test Case for Johannine Dependence on the Synoptic Gospels. Studies in Biblical Literature 125. New York: Peter Lang, 2011. Hunt, Steven A., D. François Tolmie, and Ruben Zimmermann, eds. Character Studies in the Fourth Gospel. WUNT 1/314. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013. Hunter, Archibald M. According to John: The New Look at the Fourth Gospel. Louisville: Westminster, 1968. Hurtado, Larry. Lord Jesus Christ: Devotion to Jesus in Earliest Christianity. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003. Iggers, Georg G. Historiography in the Twentieth Century: From Scientific Objectivity to the Postmodern Challenge. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 1997. Jaubert, Annie. The Date of the Last Supper. Staten Island: Alba House, 1965. Jenkins, Keith. Re-Thinking History. London: Routledge, 1991. Jeremias, Joachim. “ἀμνὸϚ.” Pages 338–41 in Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, Vol 1. Edited by Gerhard Kittel and Gerhard Friedrich. Translated by Geoffrey W. Bromiley. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1964. Jeremias, Joachim. New Testament Theology. New York: Scribner’s, 1971. Jeremias, Joachim. The Rediscovery of Bethesda, John 5:2. New Testament Archaeology Monographs 1. Louisville: Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, 1966. Juel, Donald. Messiah and Temple. SBLDS 31. Missoula: Scholars Press, 1977. Kanagaraj, Jey J. John. New Covenant Commentary. Eugene: Cascade, 2013. Käsemann, Ernst. “Grundsätzliches zur Interpretation von Röm 13.” Pages 204–22 in idem, Exegetische Versuche und Besinnungen II. 2nd ed. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1965. Käsemann, Ernst. Jesu letzter Wille nach Johannes 17. 3rd ed. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1971. Käsemann, Ernst. “The Problem of the Historical Jesus.” Pages 15–47 in idem, Essays on New Testament Themes. SBT 41. Naperville, Ill.: Allenson, 1964. Käsemann, Ernst. The Testament of Jesus According to John 17. Translated by Gerhard Krodel. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1968. Kazen, T. Issues of Impurity in Early Judaism. Coniectanea Biblica. New Testament Series 45. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2010. Keck, Leander. “Derivation as Destiny: ‘Of-ness’ in Johannine Christology, Anthropology, and Soteriology.” Pages 274–88 in Exploring the Gospel of John: In honor of D. Moody Smith. Edited by R. Alan Culpepper and C. Clifton Black. Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1996. Keener, Craig S. Acts: An Exegetical Commentary. 4 vols. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2012–15. Keener, Craig S. “The Function of Johannine Pneumatology in the Context of Late FirstCentury Judaism.” PhD diss., Duke University, 1991.
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Keener, Craig S. The Gospel of John: A Commentary. 2 vols. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2003. Keener, Craig S. The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009. Keener, Craig S. “Jesus and Parallel Jewish and Greco-Roman Figures.” Pages 85–111 in Christian Origins and Greco-Roman Culture: Social and Literary Contexts for the New Testament. Edited by Stanley Porter and Andrew W. Pitts. Leiden: Brill, 2013. Keener, Craig S. “Otho: A Targeted Comparison of Suetonius’ Biography and Tacitus’ History, with Implications for the Gospels’ Historical Reliability.” BBR 21.3 (2011): 331–55. Keener, Craig S. The Spirit in the Gospels and Acts: Divine Purity and Power. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1997. Keener, Craig S. “‘We Beheld His Glory’: John 1:14.” Pages 15–25 in John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 2: Aspects of Historicity in the Fourth Gospel. Edited by Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, and Tom Thatcher. SBL ECL 2. Atlanta: SBL, 2009. Keith, Chris and A. Le Donne, eds. Jesus, Critieria and the Demise of Authenticity. London, T&T Clark, 2012. Kelber, Werner H. “The Authority of The Word in St. John’s Gospel: Charismatic Speech, Narrative Text, Logocentric Metaphysics.” Oral Tradition, 2.1 (1987): 108–31. Kelber, Werner H. “From Aphorism to Sayings Gospel and from Parable to Narrative Gospel.” Forum 1.1 (1985): 313–27. Kelber, Werner. “Narrative as Interpretation and Interpretation as Narrative: Hermeneutical Reflections on the Gospels.” Pages 107–33 in Orality, Aurality, and Biblical Narrative. Edited by Lou H. Silberman. Semeia 39. Decatur, GA: Scholars Press, 1987. Kelber, Werner. The Oral and Written Gospel: The Hermeneutics of Speaking and Writing in the Synoptic Tradition, Mark, Paul, and Q. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1983. Kennedy, George A. Aristotle: A Theory of Civic Discourse. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991. Kennedy, George A. “Classical and Christian Source Criticism.” Pages 125–55 in The Relationships Among the Gospels: An Interdisciplinary Dialogue. Edited by William O. Walker, Jr. San Antonio: Trinity University Press, 1978. Klawans, J. “Purity in the Dead Sea Scrolls.” Pages 373–402 in The Oxford Handbook of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by Timothy H. Limand John J. Collins. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010. Klinghardt, Matthias. Das älteste Evangelium und die Entstehung der kanonischen Evangelien I-II. Tübingen: Francke, 2015. Knöppler, Thomas. Die theologia crucis des Johannesevangeliums. Das Verständnis des Todes Jesu im Rahmen der Johanneischen Inkarnations- und Erhöhungschristologie. WMANT 69. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1994. Köhler, W.-D. Die Rezeption des Matthäusevangeliums in der Zeit vor Irenäus. WUNT 2/24. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1987. Konstan, David. Philodemus: On Frank Criticism. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998. Köstenberger, Andreas J. John. BECNT. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2004. Kraeling, Carl H. John the Baptist. New York: Scribner’s, 1951. Kremer, Jacob. Lazarus. Die Geschichte Einer Auferstehung: Text, Wirkungsgeschichte und Botschaft. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1985. Kruse, Colin G. The Gospel according to John. TNTC 4. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004.
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Kümmel, Werner G. Das Neue Testament: Geschichte der Erforschung seiner Probleme. Freiburg and München: K. Alber, 1958. Labahn, Michael. “‘Heiland der Welt’: Der gesandte Gottessohn und der römische Kaiser – ein Thema johanneischer Christologie.” Pages 147–73 in Zwischen den Reichen: Neues Testament und römische Herrschaft. Edited by idem and J. Zangenberg. TANZ 36. Tübingen: Francke Verlag, 2002. Labhan, Michael. Jesus als Lebensspender: Untersuchungen zu einer Geschichte der johanneischen Tradition anhand ihrer Wundergeschichten. BZNW 98. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1999. Labahn, Michael, and Manfred Lang. “Johannes und die Synoptiker: Positionen und Impulse seit 1990.” Pages 443–515 in Kontexte des Johannesevangeliums: Das vierte Evangelium in religions- und traditionsgeschichtlicher Perspektive. Edited by Jörg Frey and Udo Schnelle. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004. Laney, J. C. John. Moody Gospel Commentary. Chicago: Moody, 1992. Lang, Manfred. Johannes und die Synoptiker. FRLANT 182. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1999. Larsen, Kasper Bro. Recognizing the Stranger: Recognition Scenes in the Gospel of John. BIS 93. Leiden: Brill, 2008. Le Donne, Anthony, and Tom Thatcher, eds. The Fourth Gospel in First Century Media Culture. LNTS 426. London: T&T Clark, 2011. Leroy, Herbert. Rätsel und Mißverständis: Ein Beitrag zur Formgeschichte des Johannesevangeliums. Löwen, Belgien: Imprimerie Orientaliste, 1967. Levine, Lee I. Jerusalem: Portrait of the City in the Second Temple Period (538 B.C.E. – 70 C.E.). Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 2002. Lewis, J. P. “Conrad Schick: Architect, Archaeologist.” Near East Archaeological Society Bulletin 53 (2008): 15–23. Lightfoot, J. B. The Gospel of St. John: A Newly Discovered Commentary. The Lightfoot Legacy Set, Vol 2. Edited by Ben Witherington and Todd D. Still, Assisted by Jeanette M. Hagan. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2015. Lightfoot, R. H. St. John’s Gospel. A Commentary. Edited by C. F. Evans. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1957. Lincoln, Andrew T. The Gospel according to Saint John. Black’s NT Commentary. London: Continuum, 2005. Lincoln, Andrew T. Truth on Trial. Ada, MI: Baker, 2000. Lincoln, Andrew T. “‘We Know that His Testimony Is True’: Johannine Truth Claims and Historicity.” Pages 179–97 in John, Jesus, and History, Volume 1: Critical Appraisals of Critical Views. Edited by Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, and Tom Thatcher. SBLSymS 44. Atlanta: SBL, 2007. Lindars, Barnabas. Behind the Fourth Gospel. Studies in Creative Criticism 3. London: SPCK, 1971. Lindars, Barnabas. The Gospel of John. NCB. London and Greenwood, SC: Oliphants and Attic Press, 1972. Linton, Marigold. “Transformations of Memory in Everyday Life.” Pages 77–91 in Memory Observed: Remembering in Natural Contexts. Edited by Ulrich Neisser. New York: W. H. Freeman & Co., 1982. Loisy, Alfred. Les Évangiles Synoptiques. 2 vols. Ceffonds, 1907–08. Longenecker, Richard N. The Christology of Early Jewish Christianity. London: SCM, 1970. Luz, Ulrich. Matthew. 3 vols. Hermeneia. Minneapolis, MN: 2001–07.
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MacDonald, J. M. The Life and Writings of St. John. New York: Scribner, Armstrong & Col, 1877. Macgregor, G. H. C. The Gospel of John. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1929. Mackay, Ian D. John’s Relationship with Mark: An Analysis of John 6 in the Light of Mark 6-8. WUNT 2/182. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004. Magen, Yitzhak. “Israel’s Stone Age.” BAR 24.5 (1998): 46–52. Magen, Yitzhak. “Jerusalem as a Center of the Stone Vessel Industry during the Second Temple Period.” Pages 244–56 in Ancient Jerusalem Revealed. Edited by Hillel Geva. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1994. Magen, Yitzhak. “The Stone Vessel Industry During the Second Temple Period.” Pages 6–26 in Purity Broke Out in Israel (Tractate Shabbat, 13b): Stone Vessels in the Late Second Temple Period. Haifa: Edited by Ofra Rimon, Yitzhak Magen, and Levi Yitzhak Rahmani. University of Haifa, 1994. Magen, Yitzhak. The Stone Vessel Industry in the Second Temple Period. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society and Israel Antiquities Authority, 2002. Manns, Fréderic. “Marc 6,21-29 à la lumière des dernières fouilles du Machéronte.” SBFLA 31 (1981): 287–90. Manson, T. W. The Sayings of Jesus. London: SCM, 1957. Marsh, John. Saint John. PNTC. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1968. Martyn, James Louis. History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel. 3rd ed. New Testament Library. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003. Marxsen, Willi. Mark the Evangelist: Studies on the Redaction History of the Gospel. Translated by James Boyce, Donald Juel, William Poehlmann, and Roy A. Harrisville. Nashville: Abingdon, 1969. Massaux, Édouard. The Influence of the Gospel of Saint Matthew on Christian Literature before Saint Irenaeus. 3 vols. Edited by Arthur J. Bellinzoni. Macon: Mercer, 1990–93. Matson, Mark A. “The Contribution to the Temple Cleansing by the Fourth Gospel.” SBLSP 128 (1992): 489–506. Matson, Mark A. “The Historical Plausibility of John’s Passion Dating.” Pages 291–312 in John, Jesus, and History, vol. 2: Aspects of Historicity in the Fourth Gospel. Edited by Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, and Tom Thatcher. ECL 2. Atlanta: SBL, 2009. Matson, Mark A. In Dialogue with Another Gospel? The Influence of the Fourth Gospel on the Passion Narrative of the Gospel of Luke. SBLDS 178. Atlanta: SBL, 2001. Mattill, A. J., Jr. Luke and the Last Things: A Perspective for the Understanding of Lukan Thought. Dillsboro: Western North Carolina Press, 1979. Mauser, Ulrich. Christ in the Wilderness. SBT 39. London: SCM, 1963. McCullough, Tom. “Searching for Cana: Where Jesus Turned Water into Wine.” BAR 41.6 (2015): 30–39. McGrath, James F. “‘Destroy this Temple’: Issues of History in John 2:13-22.” Pages 35–43 in John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 2: Aspects of Historicity in the Fourth Gospel. Edited by Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just, and Tom Thatcher. ECL 2. Atlanta: SBL, 2009. McHugh, John F. John 1—4. ICC. New York: T&T Clark, 2009. McKinnish Bridges, Linda. “Aphorisms of Jesus in John: An Illustrative Look at John 4:35.” JSHJ 9.2 (2011): 207–29. McLaren, James S. “The Perspective of a Jewish Priest on the Johannine Timing of the Action in the Temple.” Pages 201–14 in John, Jesus, and History, Volume 3: Glimpses of Jesus through the Johannine Lens. Edited by Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just S.J., and Tom Thatcher. SBL ECL 18. Atlanta: SBL, 2016
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Meeks, Wayne A. The Prophet-King: Moses Traditions and the Johannine Christology. NovTSup 14. Leiden: Brill, 1967. Meier, John P. “John the Baptist in Josephus: Philology and Exegesis.” JBL 111.2 (1992): 225–37. Meier, John P. “John the Baptist in Matthew’s Gospel.” JBL 99 (1980): 383–405. Meier, John P. A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus. 5 Vols. ABRL. New York: Doubleday, 1991–2016. Menken, Maarten J. J. Old Testament Quotations in the Fourth Gospel: Studies in Textual Form. CBET 15. Kampen: Kok Pharos, 1996. Menken, Maarten J. J. “The Quotation from Isa 40,3 in John 1,23.” Biblica 66.2 (1985): 190–205. Menken, Maarten J. J. “‘Zeal for Your House Will Consume Me’ (John 2:17).” Pages 157–64 in Broeder Jehosjoea, opstellen voor Ben Hemelsoet: bij zijn afscheid als hoogleraar in de exegese van het Nieuwe Testament van de Katholieke Theologische Universiteit te Utrecht. Edited by Dick Akerboom et al. Kampen: Kok, 1994. Metzdorf, Christina. Die Tempelaktion Jesu: Patristische und historish-kritische Exegese im Vergleich. WUNT 2/168. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003. Metzger, Bruce M. A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament. New York: United Bible Societies, 1975. Metzner, Rainer. Die Rezeption des Matthäusevangeliums im 1.Petrusbrief: Studien zum traditionsgeschichtlichen und theologischen Einfluß des 1.Evangeliums auf den 1.Petrusbrief. WUNT 2/74. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1995. Meyer, Ben F. The Aims of Jesus. Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2002. Meyer, Marvin. ed. and trans. The Gospel of Thomas: The Hidden Sayings of Jesus. New York, NY: HarperSanFrancisco, 1992. Michaels, J. Ramsey. The Gospel of John. NICNT. Grand Rapids, MI and Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 2010. Michaels, J. Ramsey. Servant and Son: Jesus in Parable and Gospel. Atlanta: John Knox, 1981. Minear, Paul S. Images of the Church in the New Testament. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1960. Mohr, Till Arend. Markus- und Johannespassion: Redaktions- und traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung der Markinischen und Johanneischen Passionstradition. ATANT 70. Zürich: Theologischer Verlag, 1982. Moloney, Francis J. “Editor’s Introduction.” Pages 1–14 in Raymond E. Brown, An Introduction to the Gospel of John. Edited by Francis J. Moloney. ABRL. New York, Doubleday, 2003. Moloney, Francis J. “The Fourth Gospel and the Jesus of History.” NTS 46.1 (2000): 42–58. Moloney, Francis J. The Gospel of John. Sacra Pagina 4. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1998. Moore, Stephen, and Tom Thatcher, eds. Anatomies of Narrative Criticism: The Past, Present, and Future of the Fourth Gospel as Literature. Resources in Biblical Studies 55. Atlanta: SBL Press, 2008. Moser, Marion. Schriftdiskurse im Johannesevangelium: Eine narrativ-intertextuelle Analyse am Paradigma von Joh 4 und Joh 7. WUNT 2/380. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck 2014. Morris, Leon. The Gospel according to John. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1971. Moule, C. F. D. An Idiom-Book of New Testament Greek. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1968. Moulton, Harold K. “Pantas in John 2:15.” BT 18 (1967): 126–27.
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Mowinckel, Sigmund. He That Cometh: The Messiah Concept in the Old Testament and Later Judaism. Translated by G. W. Anderson. Repr. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005. Muddiman, John. “John’s Use of Matthew: A British Exponent of the Theory.” ETL 59 (1983): 333–37. Müller, Mogens. “Luke — The Fourth Gospel: The ‘Rewritten Bible’ Concept as a Way to Understand the Nature of the Later Gospels.” Pages 231–42 in Voces Clamantium in Deserto: Essays in Honor of Kari Syreeni. Edited by Sven-Olav Back and Matti Kankaanniemi. Studier i exegetik och judaistik utgivna av Teologiska fakulteten vid Åbo Akademi 11. Åbo: Teologiska fakulteten, 2012. Murphy-O’Connor, Jerome. The Holy Land. 5th ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008. Murphy-O’Connor, J. “Jesus and the Money Changers (Mark 11:15-17; John 2:13-17).” RB 107 (2000): 42–55. Murphy-O’Connor, J. “Why Did Jesus Go Back to Galilee?” BRev 12.1 (1995): 20–29. Mussner, Franz. The Historical Jesus in the Gospel of St John. Quaestiones Disputatae 19. Freiburg: Herder & Herder, 1967. Najman, Hindy. “The Idea of Biblical Genre: From Discourse to Constellation.” Pages 307–22 in Prayer and Poetry in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature: Essays in Honor of Eileen Schuller on the Occasion of Her 65th Birthday. Edited by Jeremy Penner, Ken M. Penner, and Cecilia Wassen. Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2012. Neirynck, Frans. “Les femmes au tombeau. Étude de la redaction matthéenne (Matt. xxviii,1-10).” Pages 273–95 in Evangelica. Gospel Studies—Études dʼévangile. Collected Essays. Edited by F. Van Segbroeck. BETL 60. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1982. Neirynck, Frans. “John and the Synoptics: 1975-1990.” Pages 3–62 in John and the Synoptics. Edited by Albert Denaux, BETL 101. Leuven: Leuven University Press/ Peeters, 1992. Neirynck, Frans. “John and the Synoptics: The Empty Tomb Stories.” Pages 571–97 in Evangelica II: 1982-1991. Collected Essays. Edited by F. Van Segbroeck. BETL 99. Leuven: Leuven University Press/Peeters, 1991. Neisser, Ulrich. “John Dean’s Memory: A Case Study.” Cognition 9 (1981): 1–22. Netzer, E. The Palaces of the Hasmoneans and Herod the Great. Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi Press and Israel Exploration Society, 2001. Newsom, Carol. “Pairing Research Questions and Theories of Genre: A Case Study of the Hodayot.” DSD 17 (2010): 437–50. Newsom, Carol. “Spying Out the Land: A Report from Genology.” Pages 437–50 in Seeking Out the Wisdom of the Ancients. Edited by R. Troxel, K. Friebel, and D. Margy. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005. Neyrey, Jerome H. The Gospel of John. NCBC. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007. Nolland, John. “Salvation-History and Eschatology.” Pages 63–81 in Witness to the Gospel: The Theology of Acts. Edited by I. Howard Marshall and David Peterson. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998. North, Wendy E. S. “The Anointing in John 12:1-8: A Tale of Two Hypotheses.” Pages 216–30 in Engaging with C. H. Dodd on the Gospel of John. Edited by Tom Thatcher and Catrin H. Williams. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013. North, Wendy E. S. A Journey Round John: Tradition and Context in the Fourth Gospel. Library of New Testament Studies. London: Bloomsbury and T&T Clark, 2015. O’Connor, Jerome Murphy. “Jesus and the Money Changers (Mark 11:15-17; John 2:1317).” RB 107 (2000): 42–55.
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Obermann, Andreas. Die christologische Erfüllung der Schrift im Johannesevangelium: Eine Untersuchung zur johanneischen Hermeneutik anhand der Schriftzitate. WUNT 2/83. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1996. O’Day, Gail R. “The Gospel of John: Introduction, Commentary, and Reflections.” Pages 491–865 in NIB, Vol. 9. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995. Ong, Walter. Orality and Literacy: The Technologizing of the Word. New York: Methuen, 1982. Oppenheimer, Aharon The ’Am Ha-Aretz. Translated by I. H. Levine. Leiden: Brill, 1977. Painter, John. John: Witness and Theologian. 3rd ed. Micham, Victoria, Australia: Beacon Hill, 1986. Painter, John. The Quest for the Messiah: The History, Literature, and Theology of the Johannine Community. 2nd ed. Nashville: Abingdon, 1993. Parsenios, George L. “Confounding Foes and Counseling Friends: Parrêsia in the Fourth Gospel and Greco-Roman Philosophy.” Pages 251–72 in The Prologue of the Gospel of John: Its Literary, Theological, and Philosophical Contexts. Papers Read at the Colloquium Ioanneum 2013. Edited by Jan G. van der Watt, R. Alan Culpepper, and Udo Schnelle. WUNT 359. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016. Parsenios, George L. Departure and Consolation: The Johannine Farewell Discourses in Light of Greco-Roman Literature. NovTSup 117. Leiden: Brill, 2005). Parsenios, George L. “Paramythetikos Christos: John Chrysostom Interprets the Johannine Farewell Discourses.” GOTR 48 (2005): 215–36. Parsenios, George L. Rhetoric and Drama in the Johannine Lawsuit Motif. WUNT 1/258. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010. Parsenios, George L. “A Sententious Silence: First Thoughts on the Fourth Gospel and the Ardens Style.” Pages 1–20 in Portraits of Jesus: Essays in Honor of Harold Attridge. Edited by S. Myers. WUNT 2/321. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012. Parsenios, George L. “The Silent Spaces between Narrative and Drama.” Pages 85–89 in The Gospel of John as Genre Mosaic. Edited by Kasper B. Larsen. Studia Aarhusiana Neotestamentica 3. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2015. Peters, Heiner. “Epanalēpsis.” Pages 250–251 in Encyclopedia of Rhetoric. Edited by Thomas O. Sloane. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001. Peterson, Norman R. The Gospel of John and the Sociology of Light: Language and Characterization in the Fourth Gospel. Valley Forge: Trinity Press International, 1993. Piccirillo, Michele. “Machaerus.” Pages 391–93 in The Oxford Encyclopedia of Archaeology in the Near East, Vol. 3. Edited by Eric M. Meyers. New York: Oxford University Press, 1997. Piccirillo, Michele. “The Sanctuaries of the Baptism on the East Bank of the Jordan River.” Pages 43 in Jesus and Archaeology. Edited by James H. Charlesworth. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006. Pierre, M.-J., and J.-M. Roussée. “Saint Marie de la Probatique: états et orientations de recherché.” Proche Orient Chretien 31 (1981): 23–42. Pilcher, Josef. “Setzt die Johannespassion Matthäus voraus?” Pages 495–505 in The Death of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel. Edited by G. Van Belle. BETL 200. Leuven: Leuven University Press/Peeters, 2007. Pixner, Bargil. Paths of the Messiah. Edited by R. Riesner. Translated by K. Myrick, S. Randall, and M. Randall. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2010. Pixner, Bargil. “Searching for the New Testament Site of Bethesda.” BA 48 (1985): 207–16. Pixner, Bargil. With Jesus in Jerusalem. Rosh Pina: Corazin Publishing, 1996.
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Pixner, Bargil. With Jesus through Galilee According to the Fifth Gospel. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 1996. Plümacher, Eckhard. Geschichte und Geschichten: Aufsätze zur Apostelgeschichte und zu den Johannesakten. Edited by Jens Schröter and Ralph Brucker. WUNT 170. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004. Poirier, J. C. “Purity Beyond the Temple in the Second Temple Era.” JBL 122 (2003): 247–65. Pokorný, Petr. “Demoniac and Drunkard: John the Baptist and Jesus according to Q 7:33-34.” Pages 170–181 in Jesus Research: An International Perspective: The First Princeton-Prague Symposium on Jesus Research. Edited by James H. Charlesworth and Petr Pokorný. Grand Rapids and Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2009. Pokorný, Petr. “Der irdische Jesus im Johannesevangelium.” Pages 327–39 in Bibelauslegung als Theologie. Edited by idem and Josef B. Souček. WUNT 100. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997. Pokorný, Petr, and Ulrich Heckel. Einleitung in das Neue Testament: Seine Literatur und Theologie im Überblick. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007. Pollard, T. E. Johannine Christology and the Early Church. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1970. Poole, Matthew. Annotations on the Holy Bible. 3 vols. London: Henry G. Bohn, 1846. Poorthuis, M. J. H. M., and J. Schwartz, eds. Purity and Holiness: The Heritage of Leviticus. Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2000. Popper, Karl. The Poverty of Historicism. London: Routledge, 1957. Porter, Stanley E. Verbal Aspect in the Greek of the New Testament, with Reference to Tense and Mood. Studies in Biblical Greek 1. Bern: Peter Lang, 1989. Powell, Mark Allan. Jesus as a Figure in History, Second Edition: How Modern Historians View the Man from Galilee. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013. Powell, Mark Allan. “‘Things That Matter’: Historical Jesus Studies in the New Millennium.” Word and World 29.2 (2009): 121–28. Pryke, John. “John the Baptist and the Qumran Community.” RevQ 4 (1964): 483–96. Puech, É. The Copper Scroll Revisited. Translated by D. E. Orton. STDJ 112. Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2015. Quinn, Arthur, and Lyon Rathbun. “Epanalepsis.” Page 228 in Encyclopedia of Rhetoric and Composition: Communication from Ancient Times to the Information Age. Edited by Theresa Enos. New York and London: Garland Publishing, 1996. Quinn, Arthur, and Lyon Rathbun. “Inclusio.” Page 346 in Encyclopedia of Rhetoric and Composition: Communication from Ancient Times to the Information Age. Edited by Theresa Enos. New York and London: Garland Publishing, 1996. Radl, Walter. Der Ursprung Jesu: Traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zu Lukas 1–2. Herders Biblische Studien 7. Freiburg: Herder, 1996. Rahlfs, Alfred, ed. Septuaginta. Vetus Testamentum Graecum auctoritate Societatis Litterarum Gottingensis editum, vol. X: Psalmi cum Odis. Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1931. Reed, Jonathan L. Archaeology and the Galilean Jesus. Harrisburg: Trinity, 2000. Regev, Eyal. “Ritual Baths of Jewish Groups and Sects in the Second Temple Period.” Cathedra 79 (1996): 3–20 [in Hebrew]. Reich, Ronny. Excavating the City of David. Translated by Miriam Feinberg Vamosh. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society and Biblical Archaeology Society, 2011. Reich, Ronny. Mikva’ot (Jewish Ritual Baths) in the Second Temple Period and the Period of the Mishnah and Talmud. PhD diss., Hebrew University, Jerusalem, 1991 [in Hebrew].
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Reich, Ronny. “Miqwa’ot at Khirbet Qumran and the Jerusalem Connection.” Pages 728– 33 in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Fifty Years After Their Discovery. Edited by L. Schiffman and E. Tov. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society and the Shrine of the Book, Israel Museum, 2000. Reich, Ronny. “The Pool of Siloam.” Page 1807 in The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy Land, vol. 5. Edited by Ephraim Stern. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 2015. Reich, Ronny. “Ritual Baths.” Pages 430–31 in The Oxford Encyclopedia of Archaeology in the Near East, Vol. 4. Edited by Eric M. Meyers. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997. Reich, Ronny. “They Are Ritual Pools.” BAR 28 (2002): 50–55. Reich, Ronny, and Eli Shukron. “Recent Discoveries in the City of David, Jerusalem.” Israel Exploration Journal 57 (2007): 156–63. Reich, Ronny, and Eli Shukron. “The Shiloah. Pool from the Days of the Second Temple in Jerusalem.” Qadmoniot 38 (2005): 91–96, 8 images [in Hebrew]. Reich, Ronny, and Eli Shukron. “The Siloam Pool in the Wake of Recent Discoveries.” New Studies on Jerusalem 10 (2004): 137–39. Reinhartz, Adele. “Building Skyscrapers on Toothpicks : the Literary-critical Challenge to Historical Criticism.” Pages 55–76 in Anatomies of Narrative Criticism: The Past, Present, and Futures of the Fourth Gospel as Literature. Edited by Tom Thatcher and Stephen D. Moore. Resources for Biblical Study 55. Leiden: Brill, 2008. Rese, Martin. “Käsemanns Johannesdeutung: Ihre Vor – und Nachgeschichte.” ETL 82.1 (2006): 1–33. Reynolds, Benjamin, E. “The Johannine Son of Man and the Historical Jesus: Shall Ever the Twain Meet? John 9:35 as a Test Case.” JSHJ 9.2 (2011): 230–42. Richards, E. R. “An Honor/Shame Argument for Two Temple Cleansings.” Trinity Journal 29 (2008): 19–43. Ricoeur, Paul. Essays on Biblical Interpretation. Edited by L. S. Mudge. London: SPCK, 1981. Ricoeur, Paul. “Stellung und Funktion der Metapher in der biblischen Sprache.” Pages 45–70 in Metapher: Zur Hermeneutik religiöser Sprache. Edited by idem and Eberhard Jüngel. EvT 34 Supplement. Munich: Kaiser, 1974. Ridderbos, Hermann N. The Gospel according to John: A Theological Commentary. Translated by John Vriend. Grand Rapids, MI, Cambridge: Eerdmans, 1997. Translation of Het Evangelie naar Johannes: Proeve van een theologische Exegese. Kampen: Kok, 1992. Riesner, Rainer. “Bethany Beyond the Jordan.” Pages 703–05 in ABD 1. Edited by David N. Freedman. New York: Doubleday, 1992. Riesner, Rainer. “Bethany Beyond the Jordan (John 1:28): Topography, Theology and History in the Fourth Gospel.” TynBul 38 (1987): 29–63. Riesner, Rainer. “Johannes der Täufer auf Machärus.” Bibel und Kirche 39 (1984): 176. Ripley, J. J. “Killing as Piety? Exploring Ideological Contexts Shaping the Gospel of John.” JBL 134.3 (2015): 605–35. Robbins, Vernon K. Jesus the Teacher: A Socio-Rhetorical Interpretation of Mark. Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1992. Robertson A. T. and W. Hersey Davis. A New Short Grammar of the Greek Testament. New York: Richard R. Smith, 1931. Robinson, James M. The New Quest of the Historical Jesus. London: SCM, 1959. Robinson, James M. The Problem of History in Mark and Other Marcan Studies. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1982.
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Robinson, James M., Paul Hoffmann, and John S. Kloppenborg. The Critical Edition of Q: Synopsis of the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, Mark and Thomas with English, German and French Translations of Q and Thomas. Hermeneia. Minneapolis/Leuven: Fortress/ Peeters, 2000. Robinson, John A. T. “Elijah, John, and Jesus: An Essay in Detection.” NTS 4 (1957–58): 263–81. Robinson, John A. T. The Priority of John. Edited by J. F. Coakley. London and Oak Park, IL: SCM and Meyer-Stone Books, 1985. Robinson, John A. T. Twelve New Testament Studies. SBT 34. London: SCM, 1962. Robinson, Joseph A. The Historical Character of John’s Gospel. 2nd ed. London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1929. Roskovec, Jan. “Jesus as Miracle Worker: Historiography and Credibility.” Pages 874–96 in Jesus Research: New Methodologies and Perceptions. The Second Princeton-Prague Symposium on Jesus Research. Edited by James H. Charlesworth with Brian Rhea and Petr Pokorný. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2014. Ross, J. M. “Two More Titles of Jesus.” ExpTim 85.9 (1974): 281. Roth, Cecil. “The Cleansing of the Temple and Zechariah xiv 21.” NovT 4 (1960): 174–81. Ruckstuhl, Eugen. Die literarische Einheit des Johannesevangeliums. Freiburg: Paulus, 1951. Ruckstuhl, Eugen. “Johannine Language and Style: The Question of Their Unity.” Pages 125–47 in L’Évangile de Jean. Edited by M. de Jonge. BETL 44. Gembloux: Duculot, 1977. Sanders, E. P. The Historical Figure of Jesus. London: Penguin, 1993. Sanders, E. P. Jesus and Judaism. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985. Sanders, E. P. Judaism: Practice and Belief 63 BCE – 66 CE. London and Philadelphia: SCM and Trinity Press Intl., 1992. Sandy, D. B. “John the Baptist’s ‘Lamb of God’ Affirmation in Its Canonical and Apocalyptic Milieu.” JETS 34.4 (1991): 447–59. Satterthwaite, Philip E. “Acts against the Background of Classical Rhetoric.” Pages 337–79 in The Book of Acts in Its Ancient Literary Setting. Edited by Bruce W. Winter and Andrew D. Clark. Vol. 1 of The Book of Acts in Its First Century Setting. Edited by Bruce W. Winter. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993. Scarpat, Giuseppe. Parrhesia: Storia del termine e delle sue traduzione in latino. Brescia: Paideia, 1964. Schein, Bruce E. Following the Way: The Setting of John’s Gospel. Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1980. Schleiermacher, Friedrich. The Life of Jesus. Edited by Jack Verheyden. Translated by S. MacLean Gilmour. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975. Schmiedel, Paul W. The Johannine Writings. London: Adam and Charles Black, 1908. Schnackenburg, Rudolf. The Gospel according to St. John. 3 vols. Translated by Kevin Smyth, Cecily Hastings, Francis McDonaugh, David Smith, Richard Foley S. J., and G. A. Kon. New York: Crossroad, 1968–82. Translation of Das Johannesevangelium. 4 vols. HThKNT 4. Freiburg, Basel, and Wien: Herder, 1965-75. Schnelle, Udo. Die ersten 100 Jahre des Christentums: 30-130 n. Chr. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck Ruprecht, 2015. Schnelle, Udo. Das Evangelium nach Johannes. THKNT 4. Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 1998. Schoeps, Hans Joachim. Paul: The Theology of the Apostle in the Light of Jewish Religious History. Translated by Harold Knight. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1961.
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Schuchard, Bruce G. Scripture Within Scripture: The Interrelationship of Form and Function in the Explicit Old Testament Citations in the Gospel of John. SBLDS 133. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1992. Schüssler Fiorenza, Elisabeth. The Book of Revelation: Justice and Judgment. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985. Schweizer, E. Ego Eimi. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1939. Selwyn, Edward Gordon. The First Epistle of St. Peter. London: Macmillan & Co., 1949. Shanks, Hershel. “The Siloam Pool: Where Jesus Cured the Blind Man.” BAR 31.5 (2005): 16–23. Shellard, Barbara. New Light on Luke: Its Purpose, Sources and Literary Context. JSNTSup 215. London: Sheffield Academic, 2002. Shellard, Barbara. “The Relationship of Luke and John: A Fresh Look at an Old Problem.” Für und wider die Priorität des Johannesevangeliums. Edited by Peter Leander Hofrichter. Theologische Texte und Studien. Hildesheim, Zurich, and New York: Georg Olms Verlag, 2002. Sherwin-White, A. N. “The Trial of Christ.” Pages 97–116 in Historicity and Chronology in the New Testament. Edited by Dennis E. Nineham. Theological Collections 6. London: SPCK, 1965. Siegert, Folker. Das Evangelium des Johannes in seiner ursprünglichen Gestalt. SIJD 7. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 2008. Siegert, Folker. “Die ‘vierte Suche’ nach dem historischen Jesus.” TLZ 108 (2012): 525–36. Siegert, Folker. Synopse der vorkanonischen Jesusüberlieferungen. Schriften des Institutum Judaicum Delitschianum 8.1. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2010. Siliezar, C. R. S. Creation Imagery in the Gospel of John. Library of New Testament Studies 546. London: Bloomsbury and T&T Clark, 2015. Sjöberg, Erik. Der verborgene Menschensohn in den Evangelien. Skrifter 53. Lund: Gleerup, 1955. Skinner, Christopher W. ed. Characters and Characterization in the Gospel of John. LNTS 461. London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2013. Smith, D. Moody. The Fourth Gospel in Four Dimensions: Judaism and Jesus, the Gospels and Scripture. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 2008. Smith, D. Moody. “Jesus Tradition in the Gospel of John.” Pages 1997–2039 in Handbook for the Study of the Historical Jesus, Vol. 3. Edited by T. Holmén and S. E. Porter. Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2011. Smith, D. Moody. Johannine Christianity: Essays on Its Setting, Sources, and Theology. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 1984. Smith, D. Moody. John. Abingdon New Testament Commentaries. Nashville: Abingdon, 1999. Smith, D. Moody. “John 12:12ff. and the Question of John’s Use of the Synoptics.” JBL 82 (1963): 58–64. Smith, D. Moody. John Among the Gospels: The Relationship in Twentieth-Century Research. 2nd ed. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 2001. Smith, D. Moody. “The Presentation of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel.” Int 31 (1977): 367–78. Smith, D. Moody. “The Problem of History in John.” Pages 311–20 in What We Have Heard from the Beginning: The Past, Present and Future of Johannine Studies. Edited by Tom Thatcher. Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2007. Söding, Thomas. “‘Was kann aus schon Nazareth Gutes kommen?’ (Joh 1.46): Die Bedeutung des Judenseins Jesu im Johannesevangelium.” NTS 46 (2000): 21–41. Sparks, H. F. D. “St. John’s Knowledge of Matthew: The Evidence of John 13,16 and 15,20.” JTS 3 (1952): 58–61.
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Stanton, Graham N. Gospel Truth? New Light on Jesus and the Gospels. Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1995. Stanton, Vincent Henry. The Gospels as Historical Sources. 3 vols. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1903–20. Stauffer, Ethelbert. “Agnostos Christos.” The Background of the New Testament and Its Eschatology. Edited by W. D. Davies and D. Daube. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1956. Stauffer, Ethelbert. Jesus and His Story. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1960. Stibbe, Mark. The Gospel of John as Literature: An Anthology of Twentieth-Century Perspectives. NTTS 17. Leiden, New York, and Köln: Brill, 1993. Stibbe, Mark. John as Storyteller: Narrative Criticism and the Fourth Gospel. SNTSMS 73. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992. Strange, J. F. “Beth-Zatha.” Pages 700–01 in ABD, Vol 1. Edited by David N. Freedman. New York: Doubleday, 1992. Strauss, David F. The Christ of Faith and the Jesus of History: A Critique of Schleiermacher’s The Life of Jesus. Translated and edited by Leander E. Keck. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977. Streeter, B. H. The Four Gospels: A Study of Origins: Treating of the Manuscript Tradition, Sources, Authorship and Dates. 8th ed. London: Macmillan, 1953. Talbert, Charles H. Reading John: A Literary and Theological Commentary on the Fourth Gospel and the Johannine Epistles. New York: Crossroad, 1992. Talbert, Charles H. What Is a Gospel? The Genre of the Canonical Gospels. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977. Talmon, Shemaryahu. “The Judean ‘am ha’aretz in Historical Perspective.” Pages 71–76 in Fourth World Congress of Jewish Studies, Vol. 1. Edited by Shaul Shaked. Jerusalem: World Union of Jewish Studies, 1967. Taylor, Joan E. Christians and Holy Places: The Myth of Jewish-Christian Origins. Oxford: Clarendon, 1993. Taylor, Joan E. “The Garden of Gethsemane: Not the Place of Jesus’ Arrest.” BAR 21.4 (1995): 26–35. Taylor, Joan E. The Immerser: John the Baptist within Second Temple Judaism. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997. Taylor, Joan E. “Missing Magdala and the Name of Mary ‘Magdalene’.” PEQ 146.3 (2014): 205–23. Taylor, Vincent. The Atonement in New Testament Teaching. London: Epworth, 1945. Temple, William. Readings in St. John’s Gospel. First Series: Chas. I-XII. London: Macmillan & Co., 1939. Thatcher, Tom, ed. What We Have Heard from the Beginning: The Past, Present and Future of Johannine Studies. Waco: Baylor University Press, 2007. Thatcher, Tom. Why John Wrote a Gospel: Jesus-Memory-History. Westminster: John Knox, 2006. Theissen, Gerd. The Gospels in Context: Social and Political History in the Synoptic Tradition. Translated by Linda M. Maloney. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991. Theissen, Gerd, and Annette Merz. “The Delay of the Parousia as a Test Case for the Criterion of Coherence.” LS 32 (2007): 49–66. Theissen, Gerd, and Dagmar Winter. The Quest for the Plausible Jesus: The Question of Criteria. Translated by M. Eugene Boring. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2002.
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Theobald, Michael. Das Evangelium nach Johannes, Kapitel 1-12. RNT. Regensburg: Pustet, 2009. Theobald, Michael. Herrenworte im Johannes-Evangelium. HBS 34. Freiburg: Herder, 2002. Thomaskutty, Johnson. Dialogue in the Book of Signs: A Polyvalent Analysis of John 1:1912:50. BINS 136. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2015. Thompson, Marianne Meye. The Humanity of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1988. Thompson, Marianne Meye. John: A Commentary. The New Testament Library. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2015. Thompson, Michael B. “The Holy Internet: Communication Between Churches in the First Christian Generation.” Pages 49–70 in The Gospels for All Christians: Rethinking the Gospel Audiences. Edited by Richard Bauckham. Grand Rapids, MI and Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 1998. Thyen, Hartwig. Das Johannesevangelium. HNT 6. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2015. Thyen, Hartwig. “Ich bin das Licht der Welt: Das Ich- und Ich-Bin-Sagen Jesu im Johannesevangelium.” Jahrbuch für Antike und Christentum 35 (1992): 19–46. Trocmé, Etienne. The Formation of the Gospel according to Mark. Translated by Pamela Gaughan. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1975. Tuckett, Christopher M. “The Didache and the Writings that later formed the New Testament.” Pages 83–128 in The Reception of the New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers. Edited by A. Gregory and C. Tuckett. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005. Turner, H. E. W. “The Chronological Framework of the Ministry.” Pages 68–74 in Historicity and Chronology in the New Testament. Edited by D. E. Nineham. SPCK Theological Collections 6. London: SPCK, 1965. Urbach, Ephraim E. The Sages: Their Concepts and Beliefs. 2 vols. Translated by Israel Abrahams. 2nd ed. Jerusalem: Magnes, 1979. Urciuoli, Emiliano R. “‘Ein erratischer Block’: The Pre-Jesuanic and the Pre-Christian Exegesis of ‘Isaiah 53’.” Henoch 32.1 (2010): 66–100. Van der Watt, J. G., R. A. Culpepper, and U. Schnelle, eds. Prologue of the Gospel of John: Its Literary, Theological, and Philosophical Contexts. Papers Read at the Colloquium Ionanneum 2013. WUNT 359. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016. van Tilborg, Sjef. The Jewish Leaders in Matthew. Leiden: Brill, 1972. Veeser, H. Aram, ed. The New Historicism. London: Routledge, 1989. Vines, Michael E. The Problem of Markan Genre: The Gospel of Mark and the Jewish Novel. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 2002. Viviano, Benedict T. “John’s Use of Matthew: Beyond Tweaking.” Pages 245–469 in Matthew and His World: The Gospel of the Open Jewish Christians. Studies in Biblical Theology. NTOA 61. Fribourg and Göttingen: Academic Press and Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2007. Vogels, Heinz-Jürgen. Christi Abstieg ins Totenreich und das Läuterungsgericht an den Toten: Eine bibeltheologisch-dogmatische Untersuchung zum Glaubensartikel “descendit ad inferos.” Freiburger theologische Studien 102. Freiburg, Basel, and Vienna: Herder, 1976. Vollmer, Cornelius. “Zu den Toponymen Lithostroton und Gabbatha in Joh 19,13. Mit einem Lokalisierungsversuch des Prätoriums des Pilatus.” ZNW 106.2 (2015): 184–200. Vonder Bruegge, J. M. Mapping Galilee in Josephus, Luke, and John: Critical Geography and the Construction of an Ancient Space. Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity 93. Leiden: Brill, 2016.
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von Wahlde, Urban C. “Archaeology and John’s Gospel.” Pages 587–618 in Jesus and Archaeology. Edited by James H. Charlesworth. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006. von Wahlde, Urban C. “Archaeology and Topography in the Gospel of John.” Pages 523–86 in Jesus and Archaeology. Edited by James H. Charlesworth. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006. von Wahlde, Urban C. “Biblical Views: A Rolling Stone That Was Hard to Roll.” BAR 41.2 (2015): 24–36. von Wahlde, Urban C. The Gospels and Letters of John. 3 vols. ECC. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2010. von Wahlde, Urban C. Gnosticism, Docetism, and the Judaisms of the First Century: The Search for the Wider Context of Johannine Literature and Why it Matters. London: Bloomsbury, 2015. von Wahlde, Urban C. “The Great Public Miqvaot at Bethesda and Siloam: The Development of Jewish Attitudes Toward Ritual Purity in Late Second Temple Judaism.” Pages 267–82 in Rediscovering John: Essays on the Fourth Gospel in Honour of Frédéric Manns. Edited by L. Daniel Chrupcala. Milano: Editioni Terra Santa, 2013. von Wahlde, Urban C. “The Pool of Bethesda – Reservoir or Miqveh?” BAR (forthcoming). von Wahlde, Urban C. “The Pool of Siloam: The Importance of New Discoveries for Our Understanding of Ritual Immersion in Late Second Temple Judaism and the Gospel of John.” Pages 155–73 in John, Jesus, and History, Volume 2: Aspects of Historicity in the Fourth Gospel. Edited by Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just S. J., and Tom Thatcher. SBL ECL 2. Atlanta: SBL, 2009. von Wahlde, Urban C. “The Puzzling Pool of Bethesda.” BAR 37.5. (2011): 40–47, 65. von Wahlde, Urban C. “The Relationships Between Pharisees and Chief Priests: Some Observations on the Texts in Matthew, John, and Josephus.” NTS 42.4 (1996): 506–22. von Wahlde, Urban C. “The ‘Upper Pool,’ Its ‘Conduit’ and ‘the Highway of the Fuller’s Field’ in Eighth Century BCE Jerusalem and Their Significance for the Pools of Bethesda and Siloam.” RB 113.2 (2006): 242–62. Walker, William O. “The Quest for the Historical Jesus: A Discussion of Methodology.” ATR 51 (1969): 38–56. Wallace, Daniel B. Greek Grammar beyond the Basics. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996. Watson, Francis. Gospel Writing: A Canonical Perspective. Grand Rapids, MI and Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 2013. Webb, Robert L. John the Baptizer and Prophet: A Socio-historical Study. JSNTSup 62. Sheffield, U.K.: JSOT Press, 1991. Wellhausen, Julius. Das Evangelium Marci. Berlin: G. Reimer, 1903. Wengst, Klaus. Bedrängte Gemeinde und verherrlichter Christus: Ein Versuch über das Johannesevangelium. 4th ed. München: Kaiser, 1992. Wengst, Klaus. Das Johannesevangelium I – II. ThKNT. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2000–01. Westcott, Brooke Foss. The Gospel according to St. John. 2 vols. Repr. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1980. White, Hayden. Metahistory: The Historical Imagination in Nineteenth Century Europe. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1973. Wilckens, Ulrich. Das Evangelium nach Johannes. NTD 4. 2nd ed. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000. Wiles, Maurice F. The Spiritual Gospel: The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel in the Early Church. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1960. Wilkins, Michael J. Discipleship in the Ancient World and Matthew’s Gospel. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1995.
Selected Bibliography
351
Wilkinson, John. Jerusalem as Jesus Knew It: Archaeology as Evidence. London: Thames and Hudson, 1978. Wilson, Charles W. “Bethesda.” Pages 409–11 in A Dictionary of the Bible, Vol. 1. 2nd ed. Edited by W. Smith and J. M. Fuller. London: John Murray/Walton and Maberly, 1893. Windisch, Hans. Johannes und die Synoptiker: Wollte der vierte Evangelist die älteren Evangelien ergänzen oder ersetzen? UNT 12. Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs, 1926. Witetschek, Stephan. Thomas und Johannes – Johannes und Thomas: Das Verhältnis der Logien des Thomasevangeliums zum Johannesevangelium. Herders biblische Studien 79. Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder, 2015. Witherington, Ben, III. “What’s in a Name? Rethinking the Historical Figure of the Beloved Disciple in the Fourth Gospel.” Pages 203–12 in John, Jesus, and History, Vol. 2: Aspects of Historicity in the Fourth Gospel. Edited Paul N. Anderson, Felix Just S. J., and Tom Thatcher. SBL ECL 2. Atlanta: SBL, 2009. Wittlieb, Marian. “Die theologische Bedeutung der Erwähnung von ‘Māšîah/Christós’ in den Pseudepigraphen des Alten Testaments palästinischen Ursprungs.” BN 50 (1989): 26–33. Wrede, William. The Messianic Secret. Translated by J. C. G. Greig. Cambridge: Clarke, 1971. Wright, N. T. “Towards a Third Quest? Jesus Then and Now.” ARC: The Journal of the Faculty of Religious Studies, McGill University, Montreal, Canada 10.1 (1982): 20–27. Yadin, Yigael, ed. Jerusalem Revealed. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1975. Youngquist, Linden E. Q 6:37-42: Not Judging — The Blind Leading the Blind, The Disciple and the Teacher, The Speck and the Beam. Documenta Q. Leuven, Paris, and Walpole, MA: Peeters, 2011. Ytterbrink, Maria. The Third Gospel for the First Time: Luke within the Context of Ancient Biography. Lund: Lund University — Centrum för teologi och religionsvetenskap, 2004. Zahn, Theodor. Das Evangelium des Johannes. Kommentar zum Neuen Testament 4. Leipzig: A. Deichert, 1921. Zimmerli, Walther, and Joachim Jeremias. The Servant of God. Naperville, IL: Alec R. Allenson, 1957. Zumstein, Jean. Évangile selon St. Jean. 2 vols. Genève: Labor et Fides, 2007–2014.
Modern Author Index Abbott, Edwin A. 273 n.54 Adler, Yonatan 280 n.22 Ådna, Jostein. 203–4, 311 n.1 Albright, William F. 287 n.22 Allison, Dale C. 3, 88–9, 94–5, 237–45, 263 n.8, 272 nn.34, 40, 275 n.278, 276 nn.74–5, 283 n.3, 285 n.35 Anderson, Paul N. 3, 15–16, 17, 68, 149, 151, 182, 241, 237, 238, 241, 247, 253, 255, 257, 263 nn.1–3, 264 nn.15–16, 18, 265 nn.28, 33, 266–8, 269 nn.80–2, 275 n.68, 276 n.81, 277 n.90, 278 nn.104, 111, 284 n.21, 294 n.4, 295 nn.28, 46, 298 n.17, 304 nn.12, 14, 305 n.36, 307 n.55, 308 n.4, 309 n.8, 311 nn.3–4, 316 n.79, 318 n.104 Aquinas, Thomas 272 n.44 Ashton, John 27, 267 n.58 Attridge, Harold W. 3, 71–84, 121, 237–46 Aune, David E. 86–7, 283 n.5, 297 n.15, 301 n.78 Aviam, Mordechai. 280 n.22, 182, 292 n.64, 307 n.62 Bahat, Dan 305 n.22 Barrett, Charles K. 12, 34, 59, 77, 87, 147, 212, 214, 259, 264 n.21, 273 n.51, 280 n.27, 281 n.31, 301 n.83, 302 nn.91–2 Bauckham, Richard. 12, 80, 265 n.27, 266 n.54, 267 n.67, 274 n.65, 279 n.6, 282 n.44, 296 n.5, 308 n.4, 309 nn.14–15, 310 n.26 Bauer, Walter 76, 280 n.25 Beck, David R. 282 n.39, 298 n.18 Becker, Jürgen 282 n.39, 320 n.3 Bellinzoni, A. J. 270 n.21 Bergmeier, Roland 319 n.2 Bernard, J. H. 173, 146, 295 n.33, 302 n.88, 303 n.99, 305 n.26, 321 n.28 Bernard, J. J. 294 n.11
Bernier, Jonathan 83, 283 n.52 Beutler, Johannes 320 n.7, 322 n.41 Black, Matthew. 302 n.90 Blomberg, Craig L. 300 n.56, 303 n.8, 308 n.4 Boismard, Marie-Émile 174, 275 n.68, 299 n.44, 305 n.27, 316 n.73, 320 n.13 Borg, Marcus J. 10, 88, 264 n.14, 283 n.10 Borgen, Peder. 13, 274 n.61, 281 n.29, 304 n.17, 312 n.6, 313 n.36, 315 n.66 Bovon, François 299 n.32 Boyarin, Daniel 302 n.89 Brant, Jo-Ann A. 279 n.8, 298 n.20 Brodie, Thomas L. 284 n.21, 299 n.40 Brown, Raymond E. 12–13, 15, 27, 31, 34, 58, 76–7, 87, 149, 152–3, 168, 182, 217, 239, 243, 249, 273 n.46, 280 n.27, 282 nn.29–30, 282 n.42, 283 n.7, 284 n.30, 290 n.52, 291 nn.54, 58–9, 294 n.7, 299 nn.43–4, 300 nn.59, 64, 302 nn.84, 94, 303 n.2, 304 nn.5, 17, 307 n.55, 314 nn.56–7, 315 n.64, 316 nn.70, 73, 318 n.100, 319 n.110, 320 n.5, 321 n.31 Brownlee, William H. 300 n.64, 302 n.89 Bruce A. B. 301 n.76 Bruce, F. F. 212, 240, 282 n.42, 299 nn.34, 35, 300 n.65, 301 nn.76–7 Bultmann, R. 11–12, 27, 37, 249, 264 nn.11, 19, 266 n.44, 267 nn.62, 65, 282 nn.31, 38, 314 n.49, 315 n.63, 316 nn.70, 73, 319 n.110, 320 n.13 Bundy, Walter Ernest 315 n.66 Burridge, Richard A. 297 nn.5, 15 Buse, Ivor 311 n.4, 315 n.66 Byrskog, Samuel 279 n.6 Cadoux, Arthur Temple 315 n.66 Carson, Donald A. 11, 151, 295 n.49, 299 nn.42, 49 Cassidy, Richard J. 13, 265 n.39, 266 n.44 Casurella, Anthony 283 n.1 Chamberlin, T. C. 271 n.23
Modern Author Index Chapple, Allan. 151, 295 nn.50–1 Charlesworth, James H. R. 13, 14, 26, 228 Chilton, Bruce 79, 282 n.38, 296 n.8 Clay, Diskin 88, 283 n.9 Collins, Adela Yarbro 280 n.11 Collins, John J. 298 n.28, 306 n.37 Coloe, Mary L. 182, 296 n.58 Conway, Colleen M. 71, 182, 278 n.2, 307 n.61 Conzelmann, Hans 2, 299 n.32 Corbett, Joey 292 nn.62, 64 Corbishley, Thomas 145–6 Couturier, Guy 299 n.40 Cribbs, Lamar 34, 268 n.74 Crossan, John Dominic 9, 168 Crossly, James G. 278 n.106 Cullmann, Oscar 300 n.58, 310 n.27 Culpepper, R. Alan 2, 13, 15, 17, 168, 182, 237, 238, 253, 254, 265 n.41, 266 nn.55–6, 277 n.87, 282 n.47, 283 n.1, 50, 299 n.33, 304 nn.5, 19, 311 n.4 Curtis, K. P. G. 55, 272 n.34 Dahl, Nils 63–4, 83, 274 n.61, 276 n.77, 277 n.86 Daise, Michael A. 2, 17, 252, 258, 259, 275 n.71, 314 n.61, 315 n.65, 317 nn.85, 87 Dauer, Anton 274 n.61 Davies, W. D. 47, 269 nn.3–5, 270 n.10, 272 n.34, 281 n.30 Dawson, Lorne L. 277 n.97 De Boer, Esther A. 13, 265 nn.30, 33, 266 n.56 Deines, Roland 280 n.22 de Jonge, Henk Jan 318 n.106 de Jonge, Marinus 280 n.27 De Luca, Stefano 292 n.64 Dietzfelbinger, Christian 282 n.41, 320 n.5, 322 nn.34–35 Díez Merino, Luis 302 n.90 Dodd, Charles H. 12, 13, 15, 47–54, 59–60, 62, 67, 92, 165, 166, 182, 189, 253, 254, 269 n.8, 270 n.12, 274 nn.58, 63, 278 nn.103, 107, 110, 284 n.22, 301 nn.69, 83, 304 n.8, 308 n.1, 313 n.26, 315 n.66, 319 nn.110, 114, 320 n.12 Donahue, John R. 296 n.57
353
Duke, Paul D. 282 n.42 Dunderberg, Ismo 272 n.41 Dunn, James D.G. 1, 168, 299 n.44 Dupont-Sommer André. 302 n.89 Edwards, Ruth B. 302 n.93 Elgvin, Torleif 302 n.89 Eppstein, Victor 212, 315 n.68 Evans, Richard J. 309 n.12 Farrell, Joseph 279 n.7 Feldman, Louis H. 295 n.27 Finegan, Jack 153, 146, 147, 149 Fischer, Karl Martin 322 n.36 Flowers, Harold J. 301 n.76 Förster, Hans 321 n.20 Fortna, Robert T. 267 n.67, 304 n.16, 314 n.49, 318 n.103, 320 n.13 Foster, Paul 270 n.21, 278 n.106 Fredrickson, David 285 n.33 Fredriksen, Paula 182, 204, 222, 266 n.47, 277 n.90, 311 n.4, 319 n.116 Freed, Edwin D 286 n.14, 299 n.46, 300 n.62, 302 n.92, 316 n.70 Frey, Jörg 270 n.12, 319 n.1, 320 nn.4, 6 Funk, Robert W. 9, 89, 264 n.13, 267 n.63, 295 n.35, 300 n.56 Gardner-Smith, Percival 12, 168, 182, 254, 272 n.39, 274 n.63, 287 n.65, 289 n.8, 304 n.7 Gibson, Shimon 171, 175, 305 nn.32–5, 306 n.43, 308 n.65, 309 n.13, 329 n.33 Gilbert, George H. 302 n.92 Goodman, Martin 303 n.109 Grigsby, Bruce H. 302 n.93 Gundry, Robert H. 272 n.40 Hägg, Thomas 279 n.5 Hakola, Raimo 283 n.50, 289 n.44 Hartog, Paul 270 n.21 Heil, Christoph 280 n.15, 282 nn.39–43, 289 n.15 Henderson, Jordan 297 n.16 Hengel, Martin 12, 183, 210, 265 n.26, 296 n.5, 298 n.26, 307 n.64, 309 n.17, 315 n.62, 322 n.42 Herrojo, J. 387 n.19 Higgins, A. J. B. 300 n.61
354
Modern Author Index
Hill, David 301 n.72 Hillyer, Norman 302 n.87 Hoehner, Harold W. 145, 147, 149, 153, 297 n.14, 300 n.53 Hofrichter, Peter L. 275 nn.66–7, 304 n.18 Holland, H. Scott 143 Holloway, Paul 284 n.25 Horsley, R. A. 138–9, 285 nn.1–3, 293 nn.70–3 Hoskyns, E. C. 147, 149, 294 nn.11, 21, 295 n.29 Howard, W. F. 271 n.22, 299 n.32, 318 n.101 Humann, Roger J. 315 n.69 Hunt, Steven A. 273 n.50, 274 n.65 Hunter, A. M. 13 Hurtado, Larry 282 n.43 Jaubert, Annie 309 n.7 Jeremias, Joachim 289 n.32, 297 n.10, 302 nn.89–90 Juel, Donald 296 n.57 Käsemann, Ernst 9, 13, 169, 200, 264 nn.10–11, 265 n.37, 266 n.44, 268 n.76, 304 n.13, 320 n.9, 322 n.42 Keck, Leander 82, 263 n.6, 282 n.47 Keener, Craig S. 2, 77, 81, 149, 182, 239, 245, 247, 248, 251, 254, 259, 281 n.32, 282 n.42, 291 n.58, 295 nn.36, 49, 296 nn.2–6, 297 nn.14, 16, 298 nn.17, 28–9, 300 n.50, 301 nn.75, 78, 82, 303 n.105, 317 n.87 Keith, Chris 276 n.74, 283 n.2 Klawans, J. 306 n.37 Klinghardt, Matthias 320 n.13 Köhler, W.-D. 270 n.21 Konstan, David 284 n.27 Kraeling, Carl H. 298 n.26, 299 n.39, 300 nn.47–9, 53, 301 nn.70, 74, 76 Kremer, Jacob 310 n.38 Kruse, Colin G. 321 n.28 Kümmel, Werner G. 320 n.11 Labahn, Michael 270 n.12, 274 n.61, 322 n.40 Laney, J. C. John 295 nn.49 Larsen, Kasper, Bro. 279 nn.4, 9 Leroy, Herbert 314 n.47
Levine, Lee I. 305 n.24, 307 n.59, 308 n.38 Lewis, J. P. 305 n.29 Lightfoot, J. B. 11, 264 n.17, 281 n.31, 302 n.88 Lincoln, Andrew T. 276 n.81, 284 n.23, 302 n.94, 307 n.55 Lindars, Barnabas 80, 149, 150, 151, 217, 244, 273 n.46, 275 n.67, 280 n.27, 281 n.35, 283 n.49, 318 nn.101–3 Linton, Marigold 274 n.63 Loisy, Alfred 315 n.66 Luz, Ulrich 272 nn.30, 34–5, 274 n.62, 280 n.13 Maarten J. J. 212, 213, 300 n.63, 315 n.67, 316 nn.72–5, 83 Macgregor, G. H. C. 305 n.28, 306 n.48 Mackay, Ian D. 30, 267 nn.65–6, 273 n.53 Magen, Yitzhak 280 n.22, 308 n.65 Manson, T.W. 300 n.67, 301 n.76 Martyn, J. Louis 13, 307 n.60, 308 n.4 Marxsen, Willi 2, 296 n.1 Matson, Mark A. 204–5, 209, 219, 275 n.66, 294 n.3, 311 n.2 Mattill, A. J., Jr. 301 n.72 Mauser, Ulrich 297 n.10 McCullough, Tom 287 n.19 McGrath, James F. 204, 276 n.1, 286 nn.10–11, 291 n.54, 311 nn.3, 5, 312 nn.7, 10, 315 n.66, 319 n.111 McKinnish Bridges, Linda 243, 284 n.21 McLaren, James S. 268 n.72 Meeks, Wayne A. 13, 266 n.44, 285 nn.36, 40, 300 nn.53, 58 Meier, John P. 63, 64, 66, 72, 104, 145, 154, 272 n.32, 274 n.60, 276 n.82, 298 nn.21, 25, 27, 301 n.69, 308 n.4 Metzner, Rainer 270 n.21 Meyer, Ben F. 83, 283 n.51 Michaels, J. Ramsey 11–12, 301 nn.69, 71, 303 n.101, 321 n.31 Minear, Paul S. 302 n.87 Moloney, Francis J. 145, 169, 280 n.27 Moore, Stephen 265 n.43, 278 n.2 Morris, Leon 11, 12, 152 Moule, C. F. D. 294 n.21 Moulton, Harold K. 313 n.19 Muddiman, John 275 n.70 Müller, Mogens 275 n.66
Modern Author Index Murphy-O’Connor, Jerome 286 n.9 Mussner, Franz 268 n.79 Najman, Hindy 279 n.7 Neirynck, Frans 270 nn.11–12, 273 n.54 Neisser, Ulrich 274 n.63 Netzer, E. 305 n.35 Newsom, Carol 279 n.7 Neyrey, Jerome H. 300 n.51 Nolland, John 299 n.32, 303 n.101 North, Wendy E. S. 275 n.72 Obermann, Andreas 315 n.62 O’Day, Gail R. 182, 295 n.31 Oppenheimer, Aharon 289 n.37 Painter, John 239, 169, 182, 282 n.42, 304 n.15 Parsenios, George L. 2, 17, 237, 241, 243, 276 n.76, 279 nn.8–9, 284 nn.24–5 304 n.17 Peters, Heiner 299 n.32, 317 n.96 Peterson, Norman R. 299 n.32 Piccirillo, Michele 286 n.14, 297 n.12 Pierre, M.-J. 175, 305 n.31 Pilcher, Josef 274 n.56, 275 n.61 Pixner, Bargil 286 nn.14, 16, 305 nn.32, 34, 309 n.12 Plümacher, Eckhard 297 n.15 Poirier, J. C. 308 n.65 Pokorný, Petr 2, 17, 247, 248, 249, 256, 320 n.13, 321 n.21, 322 nn.37, 43 Pollard, T. E. 283 n.1 Poole, Matthew 271 n.27 Poorthuis, M. J. H. M. 306 n.37 Porter, Stanley E. 16, 266 n.53 Powell, Mark Allan 266 n.45 Pryke, John 297 n.10 Puech, É. 176, 306 n.40 Quinn, Arthur
317 nn.97–9
Reed, Jonathan L. 286 n.18 Reich, Ronny 180, 181, 322 nn.40–42 Reinhartz, Adele 71, 267 n.61, 278 n.2 Richards, E. R. 295 n.49 Ricoeur, Paul 38, 226, 320 n.8, 10 Ridderbos, Hermann N. 282 n.42 Riesner, Rainer. 286 n.14, 297 n.12, 305 n.34
355
Robbins, Vernon K. 297 n.15 Robinson, John 89, 143, 144, 151, 294 nn.5, 7, 311 n.3 Roskovec, Jan 2, 222, 40, 248, 250, 251, 254, 310 n.40, 317 n.87, 319 n.118 Ross, J. M. 301 n.79 Roth, Cecil 218 n.106 Ruckstuhl, Eugen 166 Sanders, E. P. 1, 65, 66, 168, 277 nn.85, 88, 99, 290 n.49, 298 n.21 Satterthwaite, Philip E. 298 n.23 Schein, Bruce E. 145, 146 Schleiermacher, Friedrich. 2, 8, 45, 246, 263 nn.5–6 Schmiedel, Paul W. 272 n.41 Schnackenburg, Rudolf 12, 80, 149, 209, 214, 273 n.46, 282 n.45, 290 n.48, 294 n.11, 295 n.37, 302 nn.84, 88, 93–4, 314 nn.48, 52–3, 315 n.63, 316 nn.73, 81 Schnelle, Udo 270 n.12, 283 n.1, 322 n.34 Schoeps, Hans Joachim 302 n.89 Schuchard, Bruce G. 300 n.63, 314 n.61, 315 n.67, 316 n.83 Schüssler Fiorenza, Elisabeth 302 n.85 Schweizer, E. 8, 168, 304 n.3 Selwyn, Edward Gordon 277–78 n.101 Shanks, Hershel 289 n.39 Shellard, Barbara 275 n.66 Sherwin-White, A. N. 291 n.53 Siegert, Folker 320 n.13, 321 nn.15, 17 Sjöberg, Erik 281 n.29 Smith, D. Moody 45, 64, 71, 168, 182, 254, 265 n.40, 266 n.44, 267 n.60, 282 n.47, 295 n.32, 49, 296 n.6, 304 nn.9–12, 305 n.19, 308 n.1 Sparks, H. F. D. 270–71 n.8 Stanton, Graham N. 298 n.21, 299 n.30 Stanton, Vincent Henry 273–74 n.55 Stauffer, Ethelbert 294 n.5 Stibbe, Mark 279 n.8 Strauss, David F. 8, 23, 43, 45, 263 n.6, 306 n.37 Streeter, B. H. 12, 57, 59, 272 n.42, 273 n.55, 274 n.57, 275 n.69, 277 n.90, 282 n.43 Talbert, Charles H. 297 n.15, 303 n.108 Talmon, Shemaryahu 289 n.37
356
Modern Author Index
Taylor, Joan E. 126, 132, 248, 290 n.51, 292 n.61, 299 n.34 Taylor, Vincent 302 n.88 Thatcher, Tom 15, 16, 182, 265 n.43, 285 n.1 Theissen, Gerd 276 n.75, 297 n.11, 309 n.19 Theobald, Michael 270 n.9, 273 n.45, 281 nn.27, 29, 33 Thompson, Marianne Meye 149, 182, 280–1 n.27, 281 nn.29, 31, 295 n.28, 305 n.20 Thompson, Michael B. 274 n.65 Thyen, Hartwig 76 Trocmé, Etienne 296 n.1 Tuckett, Christopher M. 270–1 n.21, 318 n.106 Urbach, Ephraim E. 301 n.68 Urciuoli, Emiliano R. 302 n.89 Van der Watt, Jan 266 n.55, 283 n.1 van Tilborg, Sjef 300 n.55 Viviano, Benedict T. 271 n.29, 273 n.45 Vogels, Heinz-Jürgen 278 n.101 Vollmer, Cornelius 321 n.14 von Wahlde, Urban C. 1, 13, 74, 181, 182, 235, 242, 245–50, 265 n.31, 266 n.51, 275 nn.67–8, 280 nn.17–18, 285 n.2, 286 nn.12, 16, 287 nn.19, 22, 25, 288 n.30, 289 nn.31, 33, 38–9, 41, 306 n.37
Walker, William O. 276 n.77, 297 n.15 Wallace, Daniel B. 147, 148, 153, 295 nn.25–6 Watson, Francis 280 n.14 Webb, Robert L. 298 n.20 Wellhausen, Julius 8, 182, 315 n.66 Wengst, Klaus 281 n.29, 282 n.39, 321 n.33 Westcott, Brooke Foss 11, 171, 264 n.17 Wilckens, Ulrich 271 n.22, 273 n.54, 282 n.41 Wiles, Maurice F. 263 n.1 Wilkins, Michael J. 298 n.24 Wilson, Charles W. 305 n.30 Windisch, Hans 256, 268 n.76, 273 n.45 Witetschek, Stephan 320 n.13 Witherington, Ben, III 264 n.17, 265 n.28, 279 n.8, 302 n.88 Wittlieb, Marian 298 n.28 Wrede, William 8, 263 n.7 Wright, N. T. 264 n.12 Yadin, Yigael 305 n.30 Youngquist, Linden E. Q. 269 n.7 Ytterbrink, Maria 297 n.15 Zahn, Theodor 321 n.28 Zimmerli, Walther 302 n.89 Zumstein, Jean 281 n.31
Scripture Index Old Testament Genesis 223 1–2 304 n.17 2:2 249 22:11 303 n.105 22:11, 15 303 n.105 22:13 166 Exodus 126, 135, 251, 252–3 12:3–5, 21 166 12:27 303 n.96 13:13 166 16:2–6 303 n.96 23:17 65 29:38–46 303 n.95 34:23 65 Leviticus 23:40–41 216, 317 n.95 (LXX) Numbers 7 321 n.22 19:11–12 122 Deuteronomy 6 39 16:2–6 303 n.96 16:16 65, 170 18 39 18:15, 17 321 n.26 18:15–18 230 18:15–22 27, 36 32:19–22 316 n.83 Joshua 19:15 80 Judges 13:5, 7 73 16:7 73
1 Samuel 9:17 LXX 303 n.98 2 Samuel 7:12 229 13:23 122 20 121, 140 2 Kings 1:8 161 9:7 303 n.103 17:13, 23 103 17:13, 23 303 n.103 18:17 171 20:20 179 2 Chronicles 13:19 122 Ezra 5:16 147 7:28 76 9:11 303 n.103 13:26 32, 51–2, 76 Nehemiah 177 3:1 173 3:15 178 3:32 173 12:39 173 Psalms 1:4 301 n.76 2:7 229 16:10 314 n.56 18:50 79 22:19 237, 316 n.72 35:19 316 n.72 41:10 316 n.72 69:5 213, 259, 316 n.72 69:10a 206, 212, 213–14, 218, 220–1, 314 n.58, 315 n.69, 316 n.83, 317 n.87
358
Scripture Index
69:10b 213–14 69:10 204, 210, 218, 318 n.106 69:22 213 89:4–5 79 95 77 118 216 118:26 216 118:25–26 209–10, 216, 217–18, 220 Isaiah 160, 162 6:10 316 7:14–17 280 n.27 9:1 80, 283 n.49 9:1–7 95 11:1 73, 79 11:1–4 156 22:9 177 31:8–9 95 32:15 163 36:2 171 42:1 301 n.76, 303 nn.103–4 40:3 162, 165, 300 n.63 44:3 163, 164, 303 n.103 49:5 165 52:7 165 53:4 164 53:7 164, 165 56:7 204, 206, 221 Jeremiah 7:11 204, 206, 221 7:25 303 n.103 25:4 303 n.103 25:5 303 n.103 33:15 79 37:4 159 Ezekiel 36:25–27 163, 165 36:25–28 164 36:27 303 n.103 37:14 303 n.103 38:14 39, 164 39:28–29 164 39:29 303 n.103 Daniel 7:3–13 302 nn.86, 87 7:13 282 n.27 7:13–14 66
7:14 158 7:14 (LXX)
53
Joel 2:28–29 163 3:1–2 164, 303 n.103 4:1 164 Amos 9:11 76 Micah 5:1 73, 79, 83, 321 n.30 5:2 229 Zechariah 9–14 318 n.106 9:9 209–10, 216–20, 275 n.52 12:10 163 14 216 14:9 16–19, 317 n.88 14:2 206, 216 14:21 204, 206, 221, 259, 313 n.25 Malachi 1:6 (LXX) 271 3:1 280 n.27 3:1–3 144 4:5 161 New Testament Matthew 2–3, 8–10, 19, 21–2, 24, 29–30, 34–6, 42, 45, 59–60, 72, 79, 132, 165, 184, 203, 205–7, 216, 220, 231, 238, 253, 256, 257, 267 n.62, 268 n.68, 268 n.76, 269 n.2, 270 n.14, 270 nn.16, 21, 271 n.22, 272 n.34, 273, 274 n.58, 275 n.68, 282 n.41, 289 n.36, 304 n.10, 311 n.4 1:16, 18–20 24, 280 n.12 2:6 73 2:13, 18 280 n.12 2:23 73, 280 n.16 3:1 296 n.3 3:5–6 300 n.51 3:7 161 3:8–10 144 3:9 35, 296 n.8
Scripture Index 3:10–12 301 n.72 3:11 35, 161–3, 166 3:12 303 n.101 3:13 35 3:14 157 3:16 164 3:17 301 n.79, 303 n.101 4:15 80 4:15–16 283 n.49 4:18 166 4:18–22 166 4:23–5:1 56 5–7 89 5:1 56 5:5–13 35 5:13 54 5:14 54, 58 5:16 271 n.26 6:9–13 58–9 6:22 240 7:7–11 35 7:13–14 35 8 30 8:5–13 62, 310 n.32 8:11 228 9:13 58 9:18–19 23–6, 310 n.36 9:37–38 35 10:1–4 166 10 49, 269 10:2 49 10:22 269 n.8 10:23 269 n.8 10:24 48, 269 n.8 10:24–25 35, 47–9, 50 10:25 48 10:5 16, 40, 49, 239 10:5–6 229 10:39 50, 51 10:40 35, 51, 269 11:1 25, 63, 160 11:1–4 310 n.31 11:1–12 34 11:1–44 198 11:1–45 34 11:1–46 118 11:2 156, 158 11:3 158 11:4 192
359
11:7 156 11:8 63, 293 n.74 11:9–10 54, 240 11:9–11 157 11:9–13 94 11:10 162, 240 11:10–11 157 11:11, 38–44 64 11:11–12 296 n.3, 299 n.31 11:11–13 159 11:12–13 299 n.32 11:14 58, 92–3, 284 n.28 11:16 64 11:16–19 233 11:18 25, 61, 144 11:18–19 35, 310 n.31 11:19–47 123 11:21–22 32, 63 11:23–26 64 11:25 224, 228 11:25–26 63, 64 11:27 35, 52 11:37 64 11:39 134 11:41 62, 64 11:45 288 n.26 11:45–46 200 11:45–47 287 11:45–53 316 n.78 11:46–48 247 11:47 310 n.30 11:47–50 140, 291 n.59 11:47–53 120, 190, 289 n.44 11:49 25 11:49–51 95 11:50 78 11:51 293 n.75 11:53 35 11:54 61, 92–3, 284 n.29, 299 nn.44, 46 11:54–57 121 11:55 25, 31, 108 11:57 125 12:18 301 n.79, 303 n.104 12:38–42 310 n.39, 314 n.49 12:46–50 280 n.19 13:52 272 n.32 13:57 75 14:5–10 285 n.9 14:12 55
360
Scripture Index
14:2, 8 296 n.3 14:13–21 310 n.31 14:27 273 n.52 15:13a 55 15:23 272 n.41 15:29 56, 57, 272 nn.39–40, 310 n.34 15:29–31 56 15:29–38 310 n.34 16:1–4 310 n.38, 314 n.50 16:16 273 n.52 16:17–19 36 16:25 50 16:27 278 n.102 17:2 55 17:12–13 58, 161 18:3 52 18:10–14 35 18:15–17 36 18:18 51–2 18:18–20 36 19–28 50 21 237 21:1–11 319 n.108 21:1–27 220 21:4–5 317 n.90 21:5 273 n.52 21:8 317 n.8 21:9 317 n.91, 319 n.107, 109 21:11 36 21:12–13 312 n.6, 313 n.17 21:13 313 n.24 21:14 30, 36 21:14–22 313 n.30 21:22 52 21:23 313 n.35 21:23–27 312 n.6, 313 n.29 21:32 157, 161 23:37 143, 277 n.89 24:3 55 24:30 278 n.102 25:31 278 n.102 26:3 57, 128 26:21 273 n.52 26:34 273 n.52 26:36–46 59 26:52 273 n.52 26:59–61 313 n.38 26:61 150 27:19 273 n.52
27:37 273 n.52 27:39–30 313 n.40 27:40 150 27:52–53 278 n.102 27:57 55, 272 n.32 27:57–62 273 n.52 27:59 272 n.36 27:60 55 28:2–7 50 28:9–10 49, 50 28:10 273 n.52 28:18 240 28:19 159, 272 n.32 28:18 53 Mark 1, 228, 231–2, 238, 253–7, 267–8, 270 n.14, 271 n.22, 272 nn.32, 41, 274 nn.57–8, 275 n.72, 273 n.82, 277 nn.90–1, 296 n.1, 299 n.31, 300 n.66, 304 nn.10–11, 311 n.4, 319 n.117, 318 n.104, 319 n.117, 320 n.13, 321 nn.22, 14 1:4 296 n.3 1:4–8 273 n.51 1:5 300 n.51 1:7 303 n.103 1:14–5 273 n.51 1:24 280 n.16 2:18–20 310 n.31 3 246 6:14, 24–25 296 n.3 6:17–27 285 n.9 6:32–44 310 n.34 6:34–44 273 n.51 6:37 268 n.68 6:39 268 n.68 8:11–12 310 n.38 8:11–13 314 n.49 8:21 273 n.51 8:22–26 310 n.35 8:28 296 n.3 8:29 273 n.51 8:38 277 n.101 9:1 278 n.104 9:21–24 310 n.36 9:30–31 273 n.51 10:38–39 301 n.72 10:47 280 n.16 11:1–10 273 n.51
Scripture Index 11:8 317 n.93 11:9–10 317 n.91, 319 nn.107, 109 11:15 318 n.106, 319 n.106 11:15–17 296 n.56, 311 n.3 11:15–18 312 n.6, 313 n.16 11:16 313 n.22 11:18 313 n.26 11:18–19 316 n.77 11:19–25 313 n.31 11:27–33 313 n.29 11:28 313 n.35 12:13 232 12:13–17 230, 232 12:35–37 230, 232 13:26 278 n.102 14 254 14:3–9 273 n.51 14:22–25 312 n.6 14:43–52 273 n.51 14:49 277 n.89 14:53–16:8 273 n.52 14:57–58 313 n.39 14:67 280 n.16 14–15 245 15 254 15:7 291 n.59 15:26 232 15:29–30 313 n.41 15:39 309 n.23 16:7 238 16:17 236 Luke 1, 2, 8, 10, 19, 21–2, 24, 29, 33–5, 37–8, 42–5, 47, 52–3, 59–61, 72–5, 79–80, 128, 168, 183, 203, 206, 207, 216, 219–20, 221, 231, 232, 238–40, 246, 248, 253, 256, 267 n.62, 268 nn.68, 74–5, 270 nn.14, 21, 271 n.22, 272 n.32, 274 n.59, 275 nn.66, 72, 282 n.41, 299 n.31, 304 n.10, 311 n.4 1 257 1:1–2 155 1:17 58, 161 1–2 309 n.22 2:4, 15 73 2:4, 16 280 n.12 3:3 35, 300 n.51 3:7 161 3:8 35, 296 n.8
3:8–9 144 3:9, 16–17 301 n.72 3:10–14 300 n.48 3:15 161 3:16 35, 162–3, 166 3:17 303 n.101 3:23 n.12 280 4:20 289 n.35 4:22 280 n.12 4:34 280 n.16 4:44 277 n.89 5:1–11 34, 166 5:10 168 5:18 35 6:40 35, 48–9 7:1–10 62, 310 n.33 7:11–10 35 7:11–17 30, 310 n.36 7:18 156 7:18–23 310 n.41 7:19 158 7:20, 33 298 n.3 7:24 156 7:26–28 157 7:27 162 7:27–28 157 7:29–30 157 7:31–32 223 7:31–35 233 7:33–35 310 n.31 7:36–50 34 8:1 65 8:16 55 8:19–21 280 n.18 8:40–42, 49–56 310 n.36 9:10 35 9:10–17 310 n.34 9:19 289 n.3 9:20 34 9:24 50–1 9:26 278 n.102 9:35 301 n.79 10:2 35 10:16 35 10:22 35, 52–3 10:32 300 n.56 10:33 160 10:38–42 30, 34 11:1 158
361
362
Scripture Index
11:1–4 35 11:9–13 35 11:14–16, 29–32 314 n.50 11:16–17 310 n.39 11:27 35 11:29–32 310 n.38 12:12 35 13:23–24 35 13:34, 143 277 n.89 14:34–35 55 15:3–7 35 16:12–16 166 16:16 159, 299 n.31, 32 16:19–31 30, 34 17:11 34 17:33 51 17:62 35 18:27 321 n.22 19:11 66 19:28–20:8 220 19:38 317 n.91, 319 n.107 19:45–46 312 n.6, 313 n.16 19:46 313 n.24 19:47 35 19:47–48 313 n.32, 313 n.77 20:1–2 313 n.32 20:1–8 312 n.6, 313 n.29 20:2 313 n.35 22:24–30 34 22:30 35 22:50 34 23:3 34 23:35 301 n.79 23:50 55 23:53 25 24:12 34 24:19 280 n.16, 321 n.22 John 1–4 15 5–12 15 13–21 15 1:28 25, 35, 61, 156, 160, 167, 291 n.59, 299 n.44 1:42 24, 25 1:44 25 1:44–46 302 n.88, 303 n.99 2:1 193 2:1, 6 25
2:1–11 198, 224 2:1–12 107 2:4 25 2:6 24 2:11 310 n.30, 314 n.52 2:12 73 2:13–3:2 108 2:13 25, 228, 312 n.6 2:13–15 228 2:13–17/18–22 208, 212, 214, 221, 296, 311 n.3, 313 n.17, 318 n.106 2:13–22 208, 215, 217, 219, 220, 221, 311 n.3 2:14 313 n.18 2:14–16 228, 319 n.112 2:14–17 218 2:14–22 218, 220 2:15 150, 221, 313 nn.21, 317 n.85 2:16 192, 206, 216, 317 nn.85, 87 2:16–17 221 2:16, 23 192, 209, 210, 211, 216 2:17 208, 209, 210, 216, 218, 259, 314 n.58, 315 n.69, 316 n.83, 317 n.87 2:17, 21–2 208, 212, 213, 214, 215, 2:18–22 2:17, 22 210, 211, 212, 220, 256, 313 n.26 2:18 158, 209, 310 n.38, 313 n.28, 314 n.49 2:18–21 318 n.101 2:18–22 194, 208, 212, 214, 215, 218, 293 n.75, 313 nn.33, 36, 318 n.106 2:19 152, 204, 208, 211, 313 n.37, 317 n.87, 318 n.104, 319 n.117 2:19–20 312 n.15 2:19–21 150, 215, 314 n.51 2:19–22 192 2:20 318 n.104 2:21–22 208, 209 2:22c 211 3 90 3:1–15 225 3:2 128, 286 n.17, 310 n.28, 310 n.30 3:3 52 3:3–6 301 n.75 3:3, 5 52, 62, 63, 200, 278 n.105 3:5 52, 89 3:6 89, 90 3:8 63, 90, 95 3:10 ff. 62
Scripture Index 3:10–21 271 n.28 3:12 225 3:13 163, 223 3:13–15 62 3:14 157, 192 3:16–17 34, 78 3:22 64, 193, 271 n.27 3:22–23 109 3:22–24 190, 233 3:22–24, 26, 30 162 3:22–26 159 3:22–4:3 62 3:23 25, 61, 160, 299 n.44 3:24 30, 159 3:25 158, 160 3:26 25, 156 3:27 87 3:30 87 3:31 87, 89 3:31–36 87 3:35 35 4:1 74, 121, 158, 159 4:1–2 61, 190 4:1–3 28, 62, 74 4:1–4 109 4:1–42 227 4:2 159, 239, 310 n.25 4:3 273 4:4–6 20, 25 4:4–42, 34 4:5–39 111 4:5 228, 299 n.46 4:6 ff. 62 4:9 160 4:9 24, 74 4:10 62, 165, 181 4:14 181, 281 n.36 4:18–22 166 4:20 293 n.75 4:22–26 191 4:25 25 4:25–26 228 4:35 35 4:35b 91 4:37 63 4:39–42 35 4:42 74, 232 4:43–44 112 4:44 74, 75, 80, 191, 237
4:45 191, 194 4:46 25, 36, 73 4:46–54 35, 62, 198, 288 n.28 4:51 229 4:54 30, 112 5:1 25, 61, 170–2, 193 5:1–9 114, 198, 228 5:1–30 288 n.28 5:2 25, 61, 299 n.44 5:2–3 172 5:2–9 62 5:6 177 5:9 24, 310 n.37 5:9a 288 n.28 5:12–17 62 5:14 54, 182 5:16 316 n.80 5:16–18 316 n.78 5:17 230, 249 5:17 ff. 62 5:18 35, 258, 293 n.74, 316 n.80 5:19 62 5:19–30 288 n.28 5:20 78 5:21 66, 224 5:21–24 68 5:23 35 5:23–24, 30, 37–38 78 5:25 227 5:27 62 5:28–29 63, 66 5:31–32 226 5:31–38 62 5:31–40 226, 288 n.28, 292 n.69, 293 n.75 5:34 288 n.28 5:36 226 5:37 226 5:39 230 5:39–40 321 n.32 5:41 293 n.75 6:1 24, 57 6:1–3 56–7 6:1–4 112 6:1–5 57 6:1–13 273 6:1–15 224 6:2, 57 310 n.30 6:3 56, 58–7, 75, 272 n.41
363
364 6:4 30, 31, 108, 114, 288 n.28 6:5–14 113 6:7 25, 268 n.68 6:8 25 6:9–13 25 6:10 143, 268 n.68 6:12–16 166 6:14 314 n.52 6:14–15 199 6:15 272 n.41 6:16 164 6:16–21 113, 273 n.52 6:17 25, 73 6:19 25 6:20 38 6:22–59 224 6:26 26, 62, 199 6:27 62 6:27–49 94 6:30 310 n.39 6:30–50 293 n.75 6:30–59 288 n.28 6:31 163 6:32 58, 63 6:35 41, 48, 51, 228 6:39 143, 266 n.28 6:41 ff. 197 6:41–44 230 6:42 26, 238 6:51 68 6:53–58 197 6:67, 70–71 62 6:68–69 34, 36, 273 n.52 6:69 273 n.52 6:71 25, 166 7:1 74, 82 7:1–27 114, 316 n.78 7:2 180 7:3 25, 73 7:3–4 75 7:10 61, 75, 228 7:10–14 273 7:11–17 30 7:14, 28 25, 75, 150 7:14–18 75 7:16 ff. 63 7:19–24 75 7:21 293 n.75, 314 n.52 7:24 156
Scripture Index 7:25 30, 35, 322 n.33 7:26 75, 82, 92, 284 n.28 7:26–27 78 7:27 75–7, 80, 191, 322 n.33 7:27–29 310 n.44 7:28 78, 322 n.33 7:30 79, 287 n.23, 290 n.47 7:31 288 n.26, 310 n.30 7:31–32, 40–52 115, 287 n.21 7:31–33 79 7:31–52 118 7:33–34 90 7:34–36 79 7:37–38 180 7:37–39 79 7:39 192 7:40 80 7:40–44 230 7:40–52 229 7:41–42 191, 229 7:41–52 191 7:41, 52 74 7:42 79, 282 n.42, 322 n.33 7:45–52 82 7:48 82 7:50–52 309 n.24 7:51 82 7:52 321 n.27 7:53–8:11 169 8:1 25 8:12 54–5, 58, 63, 228 8:12–20 226 8:12–59 288 n.28 18:13 183, 293 n.75 18:13–18 288 n.28 8:17, 34 68 8:20 25, 287 n.23, 290 n.47 8:24 183 n.3 8:28 62, 192, 296 n.3 8:39 35 8:48 61, 239 8:57–59 316 n.78 8:58 68 8:59 35, 150, 287 n.23, 290 n.47, 293 n.74 8:59–9:12 178 9:1 ff. 193 9:1, 6–17, 24–34 116 9:1–7 198
Scripture Index 9:1–12 62 9:2–2 293 n.75 9:5 63, 228, 271 nn.24, 28 9:7 61, 114, 299 n.44 9:10 15, 19, 26, 199 9:12 181 9:13–14 62 9:13–17 287 n.20 9:16 314 n.52 9:16, 32–33 287 n.17 9:17 181 9:35–39 181 10:1–4 166 10:2 35 10:7 35, 228 10:7–9 63 10:11, 14 228 10:11–18 63 10:14–15 35, 310 n.43 10:15 52, 53 10:17 166 10:22–13 61, 228 10:22–39 288 n.28 10:23 25, 61 10:24 92–3, 284 n.28 10:25 93 10:25, 32–33 288 n.28 10:30 68 10:31 35 10:31–33 293 n.74, 316 n.78 10:33 293 n.75 10:39 287 n.23, 290 n.47 10:40 25, 35, 61, 156, 160 10:40–41 62, 63 10:40–42 118 10:41–42 288 n.26 10:47 72 11:18 25 11:49 25 11:55 25, 31, 108 12:1 160 12:1–2 122 12:1–8 275 n.77 12:5 25 12:9 123 12:9–11 122 12:11 42, 287 n.26 12:12 228 12:12–13 317 n.94
365
12:12–15 1–8, 232, 273 n.51, 314 n.54 12:12–16 140, 205, 215–16, 208, 211, 216, 217, 218, 219, 220, 221, 314 n.60 12:12–19 318 n.101 12:13 317 n.91 12:15 273 n.52 12:16 216, 227 12:17 123 12:17–19 123 12:18 123 12:18, 37 310 n.30 12:19 123 12:20 25 12:20–22 124 12:21 25 12:32 192 13:1 31, 62 13:1–17:26 273 13:1–17 34 13:1–35 62 13:2 25 13:3–4 35 13:8–11 293 n.75 13:13 166 13:16 35, 48, 49, 62, 90, 269 n.8 3:18 316 n.72 13:19 27 13:20 35, 51, 64, 269 n.8 13:21 224, 273 n.52 13:23 25 13:23–25 26 13:27 34 13:28–29 95 13:31–32 62 13:31–17:26 293 n.75 13:38 273 n.52 13:52 271 n.32 14:1–2 215 14:2 317 n.85 14:3 67 14:3–9 273 n.51 14:5 268 14:6 228 14:6 ff. 63 14:12 55, 62, 225 14:13 271 n.26 14:13–14 35, 52 14:15–17 62 14:15–18 316 n.84
366 14:17–26 273 n.51 14:21–24 215 14:23 81, 163, 215 14:24 195 14:25–26 210, 211 14:26, 35 163, 227 14:30 240 14:57–59 227, 277 n.91 14:58 65, 277 n.92 14:67 72 15:1 63 15:1 5, 229 15:6 271 n.26 15:7 35 15:9 166 15:12–13 63 15:13 63, 90 15:13–14 92–3 15:16 52 15:18 269 n.8 15:18–25 63, 269 n.8 15:20 35, 48–9, 269 n.8, 270 n.8 15:21 269 n.8 15:22–25 213 15:25 31, 68 15:26 232 15:26–27 28 15:29–38 310 n.34 16:1–4, 16–24 63 16:3 322 n.33 16:5–10 63 16:11 67, 240 16:12–13 184, 277 n.100 16:18 67 16:15 63 16:16–24 67 16:19–31 30 16:21 63 16:23–24 52 16:24 35 16:25 92, 225 16:25–27 93 16:28–29 225 16:32 94 16:33 94 17:1 62 17:1–3, 22–25 35 17:1–17 30 17:2 53 17:2–3 63
Scripture Index 17:11 58 17:12–13 58 17:15 58 17:24 166 18:1 25, 61 18:1–11 125, 273 n.51 18:1–32 62 18:3–11 228 18:4–9 230 18:5 ff. 63, 229 18:5, 7 229 18:5 280 n.16 18:6 229 18:7 280 n.16 18:9 27 18:9–24 64 18:10 25, 34 18:10–12 63 18:11 127, 273 nn.49, 52 18:12f. 277 n.85 18:12–20 229 18:12–20:29 273 n.51 18:13 25 18:13–14, 24 25, 28, 273 n.52 18:13, 15, 14 190 18:13–15 25 18:19 127 18:19–21 135 18:19–27 127 18:20, 25 92–3, 284 18:28 33, 25, 165, 190 18:28–19:16 190 18:31 190 18:33–38 232 18:36 35 18:38 232 18:38b–19:4 129 18:39 62 19:1–22 316 n.78 19:3 232 19:5 303 n.98 19:5–6 130 19:6b–12 291 19:9 25 19:11 66, 232 19:12 293 n.75, 309 n.21 19:13 25, 61, 130, 190, 273 n.52 19:13–16 130 19:13–34 62 19:14 24, 31, 62, 190, 303 n.98
Scripture Index 19:15 141 19:16 310 n.30 19:16b–22 132 19:16–42 26 19:17 24, 54, 181, 190 19:19 73, 229, 231, 273 n.52 19:20 25, 34 19:21 232 19:24 237, 316 n.72 19:25 26, 132 19:25–26 25 19:26 25 19:26–27 25 19:28–30 213 19:31 25, 31, 132, 228, 293 n.75 19:34 281 n.35, 309 n.23 19:34–35 26, 28 19:35 201 19:35 155, 310 n.25 19:36 165 19:38 55, 272 n.35 19:38–42 64, 273 n.52 19:39 25, 82 19:39–42 133, 194 19:40 25, 272 n.36 19:41 34, 292 n.66 19:41–42 25 19:43 55 20:1 25, 133 20:1–10 26 20:2 25 20:5 34 20:11–18 50 20:11b–16 134 20:12–13 50 20:14–18 49–50 20:16 24 20:17 273 n.52 20:22 163 20:23 51 20:24 62 20:25 24 20:28 40, 225 20:29 28, 39, 91 20:29a 225 20:29b 225 20: 30–31 32, 105, 134, 136, 156, 197–200, 224 20:31 27, 224, 310 n.43 21:1 24
21:1–7 26 21:1–14 34 21:2 24, 25, 61, 190, 193 21:3–6 166 21:8 25 21:15 25 21:15–24 28 21:20–23 67, 278 n.104 21:23–24 28 21:24 25, 26, 201, 296 n.7, 310 n.25 21:25 32, 156 Acts 1–5 161 1:8 160 2:38 159 3:22 161 4:19–20 268 n.75 4:36 300 n.56 6:12–14 313 n.42 6:14 277 n.93 7:37 161 8:7–8, 13–17 35 8:32 164 10:37–43 143 19:2 301 n.74 19:3 160 26:26 143 Romans 1:3–4 309 n.16 3:25 165 5:8–9 165 13:1–7 232 15:3 271 n.26, 316 n.76 1 Corinthians 1:14–17 159 1:22 135 2:8 280 n.20 5:7 165 6:19 150, 153 8:6 223 2 Corinthians 12:2 148 Philippians 2:7 224
367
368
Scripture Index
Colossians 1:15–16 223 Titus 3:1–2
232
Hebrews 1:1–4 27, 223 6:16 280 n.24 7:7 280 n.24 10:10 165 13:12 25 1 Peter 271 n.21 1:19 165 2:13–17 232 2:22–24 164 2 Peter 1:17 164
1 John 68, 247–9, 251 1:1 201, 310 n.25 1:1–4 26 1:2 165 2:18–25 28 4:1–3 28 4:2 310 n.25 4:10 165 5 249 2 John 1:7 28 Revelation 5:6, 13 164, 165 6:16 164 7:10 164 13:1–7 302 n.87
Ancient Sources Old Testament Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha 1 Enoch 76 37–71 181 39:6 301 n.79 45:3 301 n.79 51:3, 5 301 n.79 52:6, 9 301 n.79 61:5 307 n.79 85:3–10 302 n.86 89:49 302 n.86 89–90 164 89:45 164 90:38 164
9.19–20 4Q176 frg.1–2, 4–9 4Q259 3.4–5 4Q534 frg. 1, 1–10 4QMMT
1 Maccabees 7:19 11:34
2, 172 172 122
2 Maccabees 7:37–38
165
4 Maccabees 6:27–29 17:21–22
300 n.64 300 n.64 300 n.64 301 n.79 180
Rabbinic Texts ‘Abot de Rabbi Nathan 25:5 54 Baba Batra 4a
54
Ecclesiastes Rabbah 5:15, section 1
301 n.76
‘Erubin 3:5
109 n.109
Genesis Rabbah 49:5
54
Numbers Rabbah 7:10
303 n.102
165 165
Sanhedrin 97a–99b
76
Jubilees 1:23
303 n.102
Šeqalim 1:3
144
Psalms of Solomon 17:4
79
Sipre Devarim (on Deuteronomy) 175.1.3 300 n.58
Testament of Joseph 19:8
302 n.85
Tosefta Yadayim 2:20
Testament of Levi 18
302 n.90
Targum Pseudo-Jonathan Exodus 1:15 303 n.100
Dead Sea Scrolls 1QS 3.8–9 4:20–21 8:13–14 9.11
303 n.102 301 n.78 300 n.64 298 n.28, 300 n.64
Apostolic Fathers 1 Clement 32.2 40.5
299 n.35
300 n.56 300 n.56
Irenaeus, Adversus haereses 1.11.1 271 n.25
370 1.29.2 2.22.5 3.11.1
Ancient Sources 281 n.34 149 231
Clement of Alexandria, Excerpta ex Theodoto 1.9.3 271 n.25 Origen, Commentarium in evangelium Matthaei 277 n.101 Eusebius, Historia ecclesiastica 6.14.7 169, 308 n.1 3.39 8 Gregory of Nyssa, De Vita Moysis 2.184 271 n.26 Gregory of Nyssa, Encomium on Saint Stephen 2PG46:729 271 n.27 Cyril of Alexandria, Glaphyra in Pentateuchum PG 69:424 271 n.27 Justin, Apologia I 17
232
Nag Hammadi Codices Apocryphon of John NCH II 6.10–32 281 n.34 Gospel of the Egyptians NHC III 65.5 281 n.34 New Testament Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha Gospel of Thomas 144 28 Lives of the Prophets 1:1–13 177 Papyri and Ostraca Egerton papyrus Frag. 2 11, 14 232 Herculaneum papyri 1082 col. II.1–3 284 n.27 Greek and Latin Works Tacitus, Agricola 43.1, 2 284 n.19 45.1–2 284 n.19
Tacitus, Annales 2.18.1 12.33
284 n.19 284 n.19
Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews 2.205 303 n.100 3.248, 294 303 n.96 5.247 171 11.110 303 n.96 15.354 146 15.380 144–5 15.420–421 145 17.6.2 126 17.9.3 126 18.1.6; 21–23 101 18.3.1; 55–59 291 n.56 18.4.1; 61–63 102, 139 18.5.2; 81–83 104 18.113–14, 124–25 300 n.48 18.116 296 n.3 18.116–119 157 18.117 158, 165, 297 n.10 18.118 156, 297 n.9, 300 n.51 18.118–19 300 n.53 18.119 297 n.12, 299 n.39 20.8.4–5; 158–68 285 n.8 20.8.10; 182–88 285 n.8 20.9.1 286 n.11 20.5.3; 57–61 120, 126 20.98 300 n.54 20.219 146 Seneca, De Beneficiis 3.4.1 299 n.37 Cicero, Brutus 91.316
303 n.111
Tacitus, Dialogus de oratoribus 1 284 n.19 2.15.4 299 n.37 7.12.4 299 n.37 7.13.1–2 299 n.7 8.4 76, 281 n.33 110.1 76 Clement of Alexandria, Excerpta ex Theodoto 1.9.3 271 n.25 Irenaeus, Adversus haereses 1.1.11 271 n.25 1.3.4 231
Ancient Sources 1.26.1 1.29.2 2.22.5 3.11.1
231 281 n.34 149 231
Philo, Quis rerum divinarum heres sit 19, 21 93 Josephus, Jewish War 1.10.5; 95 1.75 2.1.3 2.4.1; 343–45 2.8.1; 369 2.9.2; 169–74 2.12.1 2.12.3; 415 2.13.3; 423–25 2.13.5; 425 2.14.8; 441 2.17.3; 411 2.17.8; 493 4.9.3–7.5.6 4.9.9 5.4.2; 45 5.4.4; 53–55 6.1.8; 202 6.3.2; 232 6.5.2; 259–61
136 306 n.39 126 100 101, 131 291 n.65 126 110 101 103 131 289 101 103 122 133 131 130 130
6.5.3; 267–69 130 6.9.3 6.9.3; 420–27 6.423
371 103, 121, 124 290 n.49 303 n.96
Eunapius, Lives of the Philosophers and Sophists 469 303 Seneca, Ad Lucilium 12.11
299 n.37
Xenophon, Memorabilia 3.1.1–3, 11
303 n.111
Philo, De migratione Abrahami 93 Pliny, Naturalis historia 5.15.72
297 n.13
Theon, Progymnasmata 1.93–171 5.52–56
298 n.18 298 n.22
Augustine, In Evangelium Johannis tractatus 10.11.1–10.12.3 294 n.11
103
Philotheos Kokkinos, Vita Isidori Patriarchae 20.8 271 n.26