The Son–Father Relationship and Christological Symbolism in the Gospel of John 9780567659309, 9780567374141, 9780567666086

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ABBREVIATIONS Primary Sources Quintilian Inst. Orat.

Institutio oratoria

Philo Abr. Conf. Ling. Fug. Her. LA Opif. Plant. Post. QE Sacr.

De Abrahamo De confusione linguarum De fuga et inventione Quis rerum divinarum heres sit Legum allegoriae De opi¿cio mundi De plantatione De posteritate Caini Quaestiones et solutiones in Exodum De sacri¿ciis Abelis et Caini

Additional Abbreviations AAR AASOR AB ABRL AnBib ATJ AThR BBET BDAG

BInS BSac ConBNT CTR DLNT ETSP GJCT

American Academy of Religion Annual of the American Schools of Oriental Research Anchor Bible Reference Anchor Bible Reference Library Analecta Biblica Ashland Theological Journal Anglican Theological Review Beiträge zur Biblischen Exegese und Theologie Bauer, W., A Greek–English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (ed. F. W. Danker; trans. W. F. Arndt, F. W. Gingrich, and F. W. Danker; 3rd ed.; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000) Biblical Interpretation Series Bibliotheca Sacra Coniectanea Biblica New Testament Series Criswell Theological Review Dictionary of the Later New Testament and Its Developments (ed. R. P. Martin and P. Davids; Downers Grove: Intervarsity Press, 1998) Evangelical Theological Society Papers Global Journal of Classical Theology

xii HALOT IDB JBL JETS JSNT JSNTSup JTSA L&N LCL LNTS LXX

NCBC Neot NTS NTTS PSS RelS SBL SFR SNTS TNDT TREN TWOT TynBul WBC WUNT

1

Abbreviations The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (ed. L. Koehler et al.; electronic ed.; Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1999) Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible (ed. G. Buttrick et al.; 4 vols.; New York: Abingdon Press, 1962) Journal of Biblical Literature Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society Journal for the Study of the New Testament Journal for the Study of the New Testament Supplement Series Journal of Theology for Southern Africa Louw, J. P., and E. A. Nida, Greek–English Lexicon of the New Testament: Based on Semantic Domains (electronic ed. of the 2nd ed.; New York: United Bible Societies, 1996) Loeb Classical Library Library of New Testament Studies Septuagint (edition used: Septuaginta [Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1996]) New Cambridge Bible Commentary Neotestamentica New Testament Studies New Testament Tools and Studies Psychological Science Religious Studies Society of Biblical Literature Son–Father Relationship Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series Theological Dictionary of the New Testament (ed. Kittel G. et al.; trans. G. W. Bromiley; 10 vols.; electronic ed.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1964–76) Theological Research Exchange Network Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament (ed. R. L. Harris, G. L. Archer, and B. K. Waltke (electronic ed.; Chicago: Moody Press, 1980) Tyndale Bulletin Word Biblical Commentary Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament

PREFACE The uniqueness of Jesus as presented in John’s Gospel stems from his relentless self-identi¿cation as the Son of God the Father. The vivid, intimate portrayal of the divine relationship is the motive behind this book, which investigates how Christological symbolism and the Son– Father Relationship are intricately interwoven to produce the compelling narrative known as the Fourth Gospel. I am grateful to my God and Father, and Jesus His Son, for insight into the divine relationship; I am also thankful for the grace and strength provided by the Holy Spirit during this challenging, yet ful¿lling, ‘Journey in John’. John’s depiction of the Son’s love and commitment to the Father is indeed the Christian’s exemplar for ful¿lling the Great Commandment—You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. By way of acknowledgment, I am especially thankful to Dr. Tom Thatcher of Cincinnati Christian University, for his patient guidance as I navigated the world of Johannine studies, and his expert supervision of my writing this research. I would also like to thank professors and staff at Asbury Theological Seminary, who advised and assisted me during my doctoral studies, when this research was undertaken. It was an honor to be a tuition scholarship recipient, and one of the ¿rst graduates of the Biblical Studies program at ATS. Much appreciation goes out to my anonymous benefactors from Tulsa, Oklahoma, whose generous support enabled me to complete my master’s and doctoral studies; without their generosity this fruitful academic journey may not have been completed. Arduous academic accomplishments are rarely achieved without a praying and supportive community of family and friends. I would therefore like to express my thanks to those who prayed, encouraged, and supported me in many ways during my studies, including, in the United States, the ladies of Equipping Lydia, the International Women Doctoral Students led by Dr. Irwin, and my friends at Asbury United Methodist Church and Centenary United Methodist Church. Thanks also to Skye West and Maggie Thompson for their help in proof-reading and editing

xiv

Preface

numerous pages of course work and dissertation chapters. In the United Kingdom, I am grateful for the support of Nev and Val Smith, and Tony and June Cash. Finally, immense gratitude goes out to Mum, Dad, and my three sisters, for their love, prayers, support, and constant encouragement. I especially acknowledge my mother’s unwavering belief in, and support of, God’s call on my life; this volume is dedicated to her father, Reverend J. A. Olusola, whose life and ministry as a Methodist minister has always been an inspiration to me. Adesola J. Akala, November, 2013

1

INTRODUCTION This book proposes that the Son–Father Relationship (SFR) is at the center of the symbolic network in the Gospel of John. The SFR not only shapes the narrative and literary style of the Gospel, it also acts as an integrative force by giving the symbolic network structure and cohesion. Thus, the SFR and symbolism interconnect to form the symbolic network in the Gospel of John. The Son is mentioned ¿rst in the phrase ‘Son– Father Relationship’, for the following reasons: (1) the narrative focus of the Gospel is Jesus, who is portrayed as Son within the context of his relationship with the Father, (2) at the start of the narrative (the Prologue), the Son is mentioned before the Father, (3) everything about the divine relationship is known only through the Son, (4) the quantitative lexical analysis carried out in this study reveals that in the Gospel, the Son carries out more activities than the Father (see Chapter 5), (5) the Father is ‘actively absent’ in the dramatic episodes of the narrative, and (6) the Son’s relationship with the Father serves as an example of how believers ought to relate to God as Father. The Gospel presents Jesus as the Son of God, who is relationally inseparable from the Father; this investigation, therefore, begins with the premise that the author’s aim, which is clearly stated in 20.31, is accomplished by a striking symbolic portrayal of Jesus as Son, within the context of his relationship with God the Father. The SFR is crucial to understanding the symbolic and narrative strategy by which the author ful¿ls his stated purpose, which is, to reveal Jesus Christ as Son of God. As an organizing principle, the SFR gives structure and theological insight into the Gospel’s expansive symbolic network. The terms ‘symbol’ and ‘symbology’ have been specially de¿ned for this study, and a ‘Theory of Johannine Symbolism’ formulated for application to the text. The theory, which is applied to the Prologue, highlights four main features of Johannine symbolism, namely, representation, assimilation, association, and transcendence. The theoretical and narrative analyses carried out in this research form the framework for charting the Gospel’s symbolic network, which is unveiled in this book as ‘John’s Christological Symbology’. John’s Christological Symbology, which is structured around the SFR, comprises symbolic clusters that emerge in the narrative plot of the Gospel.

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The Prologue (1.1–18) and the Prayer (17.1–26) are the two primary passages that have been interpreted in order to reveal the centrality of the SFR in John’s Christological Symbology. Both passages, because of their strategic positions in the Gospel, function as narrative anchors for the symbolic network. The Prologue and Prayer contain similar clusters of symbols/symbolic language and themes that demonstrate the close connection between Johannine symbolism and the SFR. The Prologue stylistically and gradually introduces the SFR, using symbolism subsequently developed in Jesus’ teaching ministry. In the course of teaching and interacting with other characters, Jesus expounds on his relationship with the Father, primarily by use of symbolism. The Prayer, which culminates Jesus’ teaching ministry, elevates the intimacy within the SFR to an unparalleled height, utilizing much of the symbolism revealed in the Prologue. The Prologue and Prayer are analyzed in this study in order to explain how the SFR and symbolism work together to structure the symbolic network and accomplish the author’s purpose. This book is divided into two main parts. The ¿rst part consists of ¿ve chapters which lay out the theoretical and methodological framework for the study. In the second part, which also comprises ¿ve chapters, the theoretical ¿ndings discussed in Part I are applied to the Prologue and the Prayer. Part II then charts John’s Christological Symbology through the entire Gospel, and concludes with a theological reÀection. Chapter 1 presents the case for this study, and highlights some general problems encountered in the study of ¿gurative language, particularly in the Gospel of John. A review of scholarship shows some of the approaches Johannine scholars have applied to their studies of ¿gures of speech in the Johannine narrative. Chapter 1 also introduces the specially formulated de¿nitions in this book, and explains the important role of the Prologue and Prayer in the overall scheme of the study. Chapter 2 discusses the structure and function of the symbol as a ¿gure of speech, with special reference to how the symbol relates to imagery and metaphor. The second chapter continues with a survey of theories of symbol proposed by Wilbur Urban and Paul Ricoeur, which provide deeper insight into the nature, function, and power of symbols in narratives. Chapter 3 explains in detail the working de¿nitions for ‘symbol’ and ‘symbology’, followed by an outline of the four principles that comprise the theory of Johannine Symbolism to be applied to the Gospel narrative. Chapter 4 lays the groundwork for the methodological framework within which John’s Christological Symbology will be unveiled. The chapter analyzes four elements that help develop the SFR and its accompanying symbolism within the Gospel narrative, namely, plot, character, time, and rhetoric. Chapter 5 describes the methodological framework within 1

Introduction

xvii

which John’s Christological Symbology will be unveiled. First, a semantic ¿eld of reference for the SFR delineates the lexical boundaries for charting the Symbology. Second, the framework shows the development of the characterization of the Son and Father in the Gospel’s narrative plot. Third, the chapter explains the methodological approach, showing how the Prologue and Prayer will feature as narrative anchors for John’s Christological Symbology. The second half of this book begins with Chapter 6, which applies the theory of Johannine Symbolism to the Prologue. Chapters 7 and 8 comprise narrative analyses of the Prologue and Prayer respectively. Chapter 8 includes a correlative analysis between the Prologue and Prayer. Chapter 9 unveils John’s Christological Symbology in seventeen sequential stages, using clusters of symbols, symbolic language, and themes to demonstrate the centrality of the SFR in the narrative. The tenth and ¿nal chapter of this book reÀects on the theological signi¿cance of the SFR in the Gospel of John, and argues for the necessity of a theo-symbolic reading of the Gospel. The chapter concludes with a discussion of three issues in this study which may inspire further research.

1

Chapter 1

JOHN’S FIGURATIVE WORLD

1.1. Introduction Many scholars consider the task of interpreting the Gospel of John a challenging and problematic enterprise.1 The advent of twentieth-century scholarly criticism engendered intense debates over the Gospel’s provenance, authorship, and historicity. In the past few decades, the focus of Johannine critical studies has shifted from previous debates to an emphasis on the narrative and literary dimensions of the Gospel. The aim of this chapter is to present a survey of how Johannine scholars have navigated John’s ¿gurative world,2 and at the same time explain the approaches from which this study will tackle the seemingly complex subject of Johannine ¿guration. The chapter proceeds as follows: (1) a summary of dif¿culties encountered in navigating John’s ¿gurative world, (2) the identi¿cation of key questions underlying this study, (3) a brief overview of symbol studies in the Gospel of John, (4) an assessment of various approaches taken by scholars in four areas of the study of Johannine symbolism, (5) a review of two researches into Johannine ¿gurative networks carried out by Jan Van der Watt and Ruben Zimmermann, (6) explanations of the de¿nitions formulated for this study, and (7) the signi¿cance of the Prologue and Prayer in charting John’s Christological Symbology. 1. For example, Beasley-Murray laments, ‘Everything we want to know about the book is uncertain, and everything that is apparently knowable is a matter of dispute’. G. R. Beasley-Murray, John (WBC 36; Waco, TX: Word Books, 1987), xxxii. Burge observes, ‘Scholars have poured so much energy into unraveling the Gospel’s many enigmas that the Àood of academic articles and books published regularly shows no sign of abating. The Gospel seems to evade our grasp and as a result has become an inexhaustible subject of interest.’ G. M. Burge, John (NIV Application Commentary; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2000), 23. 2. While acknowledging the continuing discussion surrounding the authorship(s) of the Gospel, in this study, ‘John’ refers primarily to the Gospel of John.

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The Son–Father Relationship

1.2. The Problem of Navigating John’s Figurative World A consequence of the shift of interest from the historical to the literary aspects of the Gospel of John is that over the past three decades Johannine scholars have shown a burgeoning interest in the narrative’s multilayered and often cryptic ¿gurative language, particularly its use of symbol, metaphor, and imagery. Culpepper’s Anatomy of the Fourth Gospel (1983) launched an unabated interest in the nature and function of Johannine ¿gurative language.3 The Johannine ¿gurative quest under3. Culpepper notes that the emergence of narrative-critical studies over the last 20 years has been the most productive for Johannine scholarship. R. A. Culpepper, ‘Looking Downstream: Where Will the New Currents Take Us?’, in New Currents Through John: A Global Perspective (ed. F. Lozada Jr. and T. Thatcher; Atlanta: SBL, 2006), 119–209 (203). Narrative-critical works on the Gospel of John include the following: G. Stemberger, La Symbolique du bien et du mal (Paris: Editions du Seuil 1970); D. W. Wead, The Literary Devices in John’s Gospel (Theologische Dissertationen 4; Basel: Komm. Friedrich Reinhardt, 1970); G. W. MacRae, ‘Theology and Irony in the Fourth Gospel’, in The Word in the World: Essays in Honor of Frederick Moriarty (ed. R. J. Clifford and G. W. MacRae; Cambridge, MA: Weston College Press, 1973), 83–96; D. W. Wead, ‘Johannine Irony as a Key to the Author–Audience Relationship in John’s Gospel’, in American Academy of Religion Biblical Literature: 1974 Proceedings (comp. F. O. Francis; Tallahassee: AAR, 1974); J. Painter, ‘Johannine Symbols: A Case Study in Epistemology’, JTSA 27 (1979): 26–41; X. Léon-Dufour, ‘Towards a Symbolic Reading of the Fourth Gospel’, NTS 27 (1981): 439–56; W. R. Paschal, ‘Sacramental Symbolism and Physical Imagery in the Gospel of John’, TynBul 32 (1981): 151–76; D. A. Carson, ‘Understanding Misunderstanding in the Fourth Gospel’, TynBul 33 (1982): 59–91; R. A. Culpepper, Anatomy of the Fourth Gospel: A Study in Literary Design (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1983); P. D. Duke, Irony in the Fourth Gospel (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1985); E. Richards, ‘Expressions of Double Meaning and their Function in the Gospel of John’, NTS 31 (1985): 96–112; J. D. G. Dunn, ‘Plot and Point of View in the Gospel of John’, in A South African Perspective on the New Testament: Essays by South African New Testament Scholars (ed. J. H. Petzer and J. Hartin; Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1986), 149–69; R. Kieffer, ‘Different Levels in Johannine Imagery’, in Aspects on the Johannine Literature: Papers Presented at a Conference of Scandinavian New Testament Exegetes at Uppsala (ed. L. Hartman and B. Olsson; ConBNT 18; Uppsala: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1987), 74–84; C. H. Talbert, Reading John: A Literary and Theological Commentary on the Fourth Gospel and the Johannine Epistles (London: SPCK, 1992); M. W. Stibbe, ed., The Gospel of John as Literature: An Anthology of 20th Century Perspectives (New York: Brill, 1993); D. Lee, The Symbolic Narratives of the Fourth Gospel: The Interplay of Form and Meaning (Shef¿eld: Shef¿eld Academic Press, 1994); H. Servotte, According to John: A Literary Reading of the Fourth Gospel (London: Darton, Longman & Todd, 1994); L. P. Jones, The Symbol of Water in the Gospel of John (JSNTSup 145; Shef¿eld: Shef¿eld Academic Press, 1997); J. G. Van der Watt, Family of the King: Dynamics of Metaphor in the Gospel according to John 1

1. John’s Figurative World

5

taken by scholars has endeavored to make linguistic, literary, and theological sense of what is sometimes viewed as a non-systematic hodgepodge of ¿gurative language; however, this quest has generated its own problems. The complexities that accompany navigating the nebulous nature of ¿gurative language in the general discipline of literary studies have passed over into Johannine literary studies,4 with the result that usage of the terms symbol, metaphor, and imagery overlap. Most of John’s ¿gurative lexemes have been interpreted within all three categories of symbol, metaphor, and imagery.5 Inevitably, the interpretation of Johannine ¿guration has amassed a wide array of literary and theological perspectives, resulting in what Van der Watt refers to as ‘theoretical plurality’.6 In view of the vacillating use of these three terms by scholars, negative criticism leveled at John’s distinct use of ¿guration should instead focus on the complex nature of ¿gures of speech, rather than clumsiness or ambiguity on the part of the author of the Gospel.7 Even (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2000); M. L. Coloe, God Dwells with Us: Temple Symbolism (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2001); W. Ng, Water Symbolism in John: An Eschatological Interpretation (New York: Peter Lang, 2001); D. Lee, Flesh and Glory: Symbolism, Gender and Theology (New York: Crossroad, 2002); C. Koester, Symbolism in the Fourth Gospel (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003); R. Zimmermann, Christologie der Bilder im Johannesevangelium: Die Christopoetik des vierten Evangeliums unter besonderer Berücksichtigung von Joh 10 (WUNT 171; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004); J. Frey, R. Zimmermann, and J. G. Van der Watt, eds., Imagery in the Gospel of John: Terms, Forms, Themes, and Theology of Johannine Figurative Language (WUNT 20; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006). 4. For example, Ricoeur’s theory of metaphor delves deeply into symbolism. See P. Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory: Discourse and the Surplus of Meaning (Fort Worth: Texas Christian University Press, 1976), 45–70. 5. Johannine scholars who adopt the term symbol as the Gospel’s leading ¿gure of speech include: Coloe, God Dwells with Us; Koester, Symbolism; Lee, Flesh and Glory; Léon-Dufour, ‘Towards a Symbolic Reading’; Ng, Water Symbolism in John; and Stemberger, La Symbolique du bien et du mal selon saint Jean. Others argue for metaphor or imagery; so Van der Watt, Family of the King; Zimmermann, Christologie der Bilder; and Frey, Zimmermann, and Van der Watt, eds., Imagery in the Gospel of John. 6. Van der Watt, Family of the King, xix–xx. Van der Watt goes on to comment, ‘Symbols and metaphors are sometimes even regarded to be synonymous, although metaphors are usually regarded as a sub-section of symbolism. This is all very confusing and unre¿ned.’ Ibid., 1. 7. Zimmerman complains, ‘The images of John are unwieldy, resistant, and intricate. To use a metaphor from Adolf Jülicher: They are jumbled and confused— like a hedge or thicket.’ R. Zimmermann, ‘Imagery in John: Opening Up Paths into the Tangled Thicket of John’s Figurative World’, in Frey, Van der Watt, and Zimmerman, eds., Imagery in the Gospel of John, 1–43 (1). 1

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The Son–Father Relationship

though scholars offer explanations for their choice of symbol, metaphor, or imagery as the Gospel’s main ¿gure of speech, their discussions are not limited to the ¿gurative term they choose.8 This phenomenon serves to show that ¿gures of speech do not operate in isolation. Effective theoretical strategies are needed to assist in resolving the confusion that often arises when navigating John’s ¿gurative world. 1.3. Key Questions The main task of this study is to uncover the underlying ¿gurative structure of the Johannine narrative. John purposefully and creatively threads various strands of ¿guration throughout the Gospel narrative in order to focus on Jesus as Son of God. Interpreting the ¿gurative language of the Fourth Gospel requires that a theoretical decision be made concerning its leading ¿gure of speech. Although John was not aware of modern literary classi¿cations, a de¿nite strategy that conforms to modern ¿gurative and narrative theories can be detected in the Gospel. The function of the symbol as a pointer to a person or thing of signi¿cance is a basic premise of symbol theory. This study proposes that John uses a symbolic network to point to Jesus as Son of God. Within John’s symbolic strategy, Jesus identi¿es himself by using symbolic speech and actions to point to his intimate ¿lial relationship with God the Father (1.18). According to this study, John’s symbolic network comprises clusters which include symbols, symbolic terms and themes, metaphors, imagery, and other ¿gures of speech; these symbolic clusters enhance the Gospels presentation of the SFR. With the aim of offering a fresh perspective from which Johannine symbolism can be interpreted, some questions this study attempts to answer are as follows: How can Johannine symbolism be described, what are its distinctive features, and how does it function within the narrative? How does symbolism interrelate with other ¿gures of speech in the Gospel? Does an organized structure underlie the Johannine network of symbols? If so, how does the network cohere, and within what type of framework can this structure be unveiled?

8. Some scholars, such as Ng, use overlapping terms such as ‘metaphorical symbolism’; see Ng, Water Symbolism in John, 5. Zimmerman refers to ‘symbolic image’; see Zimmermann, ‘Imagery in John’, in Frey, Van der Watt, and Zimmerman, eds., Imagery in the Gospel of John, 20. According to Koester, ‘The core symbols in John’s Gospel are often expressed in metaphors’. Koester, Symbolism, 9. 1

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1.4. Symbol Studies in the Gospel of John Extensive research into the Gospel’s symbolism began when literarycritical scholars viewed the role of Johannine ¿gurative language seriously. During the pre-literary-critical phase of Johannine symbol studies, scholars understood symbolism mainly as representative of the mythical worldview of the evangelist, or the socio-religious experience of his community.9 Because historical-critical scholars discounted the historicity of symbolism, they also tended to disregard the validity of the Gospel’s ¿gurative language for interpretation.10 Even though scholars readily acknowledged the symbolic nature of the Gospel, little effort was made to explore the nature of the symbol as a literary entity and discover its signi¿cance in the narrative. De¿nitions and theories of symbol were not utilized to explain the diverse nature of the symbolic structure of the Fourth Gospel. Sandra Schneiders explains that during the pre-literarycritical era of Johannine studies, a common assumption existed that the more the historical reliability of the Gospel was con¿rmed, the less symbolic interpretation was viewed as valid or necessary.11 According to 9. For example, Bultmann does not view the symbol as a literary device, but rather as a tool for mythological language, which conceals meaning. Bultmann analyzes the Gospel’s symbols in context of Mandaean Gnostic mythological language. He explains that myth is not objective or historical; rather it ‘symbolizes how we human beings understand ourselves in our world’. R. Bultmann, New Testament and Mythology and Other Basic Writings (trans. and ed. S. M. Ogden; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1984), 9. Resultantly, Bultmann’s interpretative method is a process of demythologization; he views the symbol not as an integral part of John’s narrative, but as an ideological covering to be stripped and discarded in order to discover the Gospel’s basic message. Ibid., 357–58. Ashton’s historical-critical approach to Johannine symbolism links the Gospel’s symbols to the Johannine community. Ashton comments that symbols such as Messiah, prophet, and Son of Man, which are of Jewish provenance, have been transformed so as to serve the purposes of the fourth evangelist. In addition, Ashton remarks that the evangelist uses the theme of judgment to ‘turn the experience of Jesus into a symbol of the experience of the Christian community’. J. Ashton, Understanding the Fourth Gospel (2nd ed.; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993), 124, 226. John Painter believes that ‘the evangelist’s use of symbols was shaped in the struggle with the synagogue’. Painter, ‘Johannine Symbols’, 34. 10. In spite of the Fourth Gospel’s symbolic nature, a perusal of indices of most commentaries reveals the absence of the entry ‘symbol’ or its cognates. LéonDufour notes that in classical commentaries, John’s symbolism has been insuf¿ciently explored and appreciated. Léon-Dufour, ‘Towards a Symbolic Reading’, 439. 11. S. Schneiders, ‘History and Symbolism in the Fourth Gospel’, in L’evangile de Jean: Sources, Redaction, Theologie (ed. M. de Jonge; Louvain: Louvain University Press, 1977), 371–76 (371–72). 1

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The Son–Father Relationship

Schneiders, these misgivings were partly due to the sentiment that symbolic interpretation was arbitrary, indemonstrable, and lacked reliable criteria.12 Schneiders, however, cautions that if a text is symbolic, no meaning of that text exists apart from its symbolic meaning;13 according to her, therefore, taking the symbolic nature of the Gospel into account is ‘not an optional exercise, but a condition of validity’.14 The growing interest in Johannine symbolism has produced a number of signi¿cant works that have established the validity of symbolism in the interpretation of the Gospel. The following review aims to examine how Johannine scholars have approached the questions underlying this study outlined above (section 1.3). The review focuses on the following:15 (1) de¿ning the Johannine symbol, (2) understanding the semantic relation between symbol and metaphor, (3) explaining the structure of Johannine symbolism, and (4) developing theoretical frameworks. 1.4.1. De¿ning the Johannine Symbol Henri Peyre, a literary scholar, in the following statement expressed the desire for a solution to the problem of multiple de¿nitions of the word ‘symbol’: ‘It could be wished—in vain—that some international congress of critics might one day propose two or three precise meanings for the word symbol, according to which it would henceforth be used in the several Western languages’.16 The reality is that the versatile character of symbols makes a universal de¿nition unviable. The dif¿culty of ¿nding one de¿nition for the symbol is clearly articulated in Douglas McGaughey’s concise statement, ‘There can be no “proper” meaning of 12. Ibid. A classic example of reservation towards symbolic interpretation is reÀected in Wead’s comment: ‘Symbolism within the Gospel of John must be approached with extreme caution. Not only is there very little agreement as to what should be considered symbolism but also there are many good reasons why the search for the symbolic interpretation brings trouble to the exegetes.’ Wead, Literary Devices, 27–28. 13. Schneiders, ‘History and Symbolism’, 372. 14. Ibid., 376. Schneiders insists that symbolism is intrinsic to the Fourth Gospel and is the primary hermeneutical key to its interpretation. S. M. Schneiders, Written That You May Believe: Encountering Jesus in the Fourth Gospel (rev. and enl. ed.; New York: Crossroad, 2003), 63. 15. Culpepper’s recommends the following foci in the study of Johannine symbols: (1) adequate de¿nitions, (2) development in the narrative, (3) relating symbolism, metaphors, and motifs, and (4) analyses of functions. Culpepper, Anatomy, 188–89. 16. H. Peyre, What Is Symbolism? (trans. E. Parker; Alabama: University of Alabama Press, 1980), 6. 1

1. John’s Figurative World

9

the symbol, for it resists the proper’.17 In other words, the multivalent nature of the symbol renders the symbol incapable of being limited to one or a few de¿nitive meanings. Johannine scholars have also complained about the lack of a de¿nition of symbol for everyone to follow.18 Since no discipline has been able to adopt one de¿nition of symbol, it is highly unlikely that this will be accomplished by Johannine scholars. Researches into Johannine symbolism are shaped by different interests, which in turn have created various de¿nitions of symbol.19 Wai-Yee Ng succinctly summarizes the problem of de¿nition among Johannine symbolists: ‘Their conceptions of what a symbol is are all very different’.20 The author of the Gospel of John clearly uses symbolism to advance his theological purpose; this gives Johannine symbols theological/ religious character and function.21 Each symbolic representation reveals an aspect of Jesus’ person, mission, and message; as a result, several scholars recognize that the Johannine symbol is a tool of divine revelation. Many de¿nitions of symbol offered by Johannine scholars refer to the symbol’s revelatory function. For example, Dorothy Lee views John’s symbols as ‘vehicles of revelation’.22 The concept of revelation also features in the two-fold de¿nition by Larry Jones; he describes the symbol, ¿rst, as ‘a literary device that points…to something far greater than itself’; Jones then states that the symbol ‘ “embodies” that which it represents…it is revelation itself’.23

17. D. R. McGaughey, ‘Ricoeur’s Metaphor and Narrative Theories as a Foundation for a Theory of Symbol’, RelS 94 (1988): 415–37 (433–34). 18. For example, Ng argues that skepticism towards Johannine symbolism could have been avoided if symbolism had been ‘more discreetly de¿ned’. Ng, Water Symbolism, 22. Wead complains that there is little agreement as to what should be considered symbolism. Wead, Literary Devices, 27. 19. This study offers its own de¿nition of symbol in section 1.6 of this chapter and section 3.2 of Chapter 3. 20. Ng, Water Symbolism, 8. Lee states that by its very nature, the symbol de¿es precise de¿nition. Lee, Symbolic Narratives, 33. 21. Lee’s understanding of symbol is based primarily on religion and theology; she states, ‘John’s symbols lie at the heart of his theological enterprise’. Lee goes on to explain that religious symbolism is at the core of theology, particularly in the Fourth Gospel. Lee, Flesh and Glory, 15, 17. Lee’s study draws from concepts of religious symbolism propounded by Paul Tillich and Karl Rahner; she also refers to Patristic theologians such as St. Ephrem the Syrian. 22. Ibid., 17. According to Lee, Johannine symbols have a three-fold function: (1) they reveal the Gospel’s spirituality (2) they are open-ended, and (3) they engage the reader at both a cognitive and intuitive level. Ibid., 222. 23. Jones, Symbol of Water, 19. 1

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The Son–Father Relationship

The concept of transcendence is recognized in literary, religious, and philosophical theories of symbol, primarily because the referent of the symbol is not explicit in the text—the referent transcends the text. From the onset of John’s Gospel, the concept of transcendence is inescapable, pervading most symbolic presentations of Christ. Koester’s de¿nition is solely based on transcendence; according to him, a symbol is simply: ‘An image, an action, or a person that is understood to have transcendent signi¿cance’.24 Schneiders de¿nes symbol as a ‘sensible reality which renders present to and involves a person subjectively in a transforming experience of transcendent mystery’.25 According to Ng, Johannine symbolism ‘proclaims the transcendent truth’.26 Symbols originate from socio-cultural environments that have been inÀuenced by underlying philosophies. Philosophies express the realities, reasoning, and fundamental beliefs of individuals and communities. Thus, symbols in a narrative reÀect the belief system of an author and his or her milieu, which in turn will determine the general pattern of a narrative’s symbolic system. C. H. Dodd, one of the earliest scholars to explore the background and nature of Johannine symbolism, postulates an understanding of symbol that stems from Greek philosophical thought. According to Dodd, the nature of Johannine symbolism reÀects an author’s fundamental Weltanschauung, ‘a world in which things and events are a living image of the eternal’.27 Transcendence is part of John’s

24. Koester explains that Johannine symbols span the chasm of ‘from above’ and ‘from below’ without collapsing the distinction. His recognition of a transcendent reality leads him to characterize Johannine symbols as ‘tensive and dialectical’. In addition, Koester notes that the symbols bring contradictory ideas together and into agreement with one another. Koester Symbolism, 3–4, 28. 25. Schneiders, Written That You May Believe, 66. 26. Ng, Water Symbolism, 44. Ng states that symbolism may not always be interpreted with precision or exhaustively explained: ‘Precision and exhaustiveness belong to the domain of criticism, which, when dealing with symbolism, cannot avoid ambivalence because symbols are versatile in their power to signify… In this book, we will allow for multiple meanings as well as inconclusive investigations.’ Ng postulates a three-stage development in her study of the symbol of water: (1) eschatological, (2) Christological, and (3) soteriological. Ibid., 46, 87. Of these three stages, Ng focuses on eschatology. 27. C. H. Dodd, The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1968), 143. While Dodd does not suggest the evangelist had direct acquaintance with Platonic doctrine of Ideas, he believes there is ample evidence that circles in which Johannine thought emerged had af¿nities with Plato’s conception of a world of invisible realities of which the visible world is a copy. According to Dodd, therefore, ‘It seems clear that the evangelist assumes a similar philosophy’. 1

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theological and philosophical worldview; the Son who is the earthly image of the transcendent Father is from above, and remains connected to his eternal origin while he is situated in the world below. De¿nitions of symbols articulated by Johannine scholars have identi¿ed the revelatory and transcendent aspects of Johannine symbolism; this study will also emphasize these two elements. 1.4.2. The Semantic Relation between Symbol and Metaphor Generally, symbols do not operate in isolation and Johannine symbols are no exception to this pattern. John’s symbolic system is largely dependent on its several metaphors; a symbolic study of the Gospel therefore requires that scholars determine the relation between the symbol and its closely related metaphor.28 At the onset of their research, almost every Johannine symbolist determines the semantic relation between symbol and metaphor by noting the distinctions or lack thereof between the two.

Ibid., 139–49 (emphasis mine). Paschal offers a de¿nition of symbol based on similar philosophical thought, stating, ‘The essence of a symbol is that it refers to reality, but is not itself that reality’. Paschal, ‘Sacramental Symbolism’, 151. 28. At the onset of his research, Van der Watt explains that the reason for his selection of metaphor as the main ¿gurative language in the Gospel is because metaphors limit interpretation to text and socio-cultural conventions. Van der Watt’s objections to viewing the symbol as the Gospel’s main ¿gure of speech are as follows: (1) symbols work on convention and function only within that sphere of consensus; outside the sphere, symbols no longer communicate to people not familiar with the convention, (2) because the symbol is based on convention, its referents change as convention changes, and (3) a metaphor can be identi¿ed syntactically and semantically in the text. Van der Watt, Family of the King, 1–4. Susan Hylen also favors a metaphorical reading of the Gospel; she notes that in the Gospel, symbols ‘point to truth that lies beyond or outside of conventional understanding of the source domain’; on the other hand, metaphors use the cultural conventions of Jesus’ day. S. E. Hylen, Imperfect Believers: Ambiguous Characters in the Gospel of John (Westminster: John Knox Press, 2009), 136. However, textual limitation virtually renders the interpretation of Johannine transcendent ¿guration impossible. The theological nature of the Gospel requires interpreters to address its non-cognitive character; the aim of Johannine ¿guration is to lead hearer-readers into the experience of theological realities expressed in the Gospel. The uniqueness of John’s metaphors, particularly those in context of the SFR, is that they point to eternal, transcendent realities. The basic structure of the metaphor cannot convey these transcendent realities; accurate interpretation of the Gospel, therefore, requires that Johannine metaphors ought not to be bound only to text, language, and sociocultural background. The symbol is the ¿gure of speech that bears the responsibility of conveying the Johannine message, and in doing so, causes the Johannine metaphor to function symbolically. 1

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Culpepper perceives the haziness that can result from intermingling ¿gurative language; consequently, one of his recommendations for symbol studies in the Gospel of John includes relating symbols to metaphors.29 According to Culpepper, the symbol which often carries the principal burden of the narrative is related to other ¿gures of speech such as metaphors.30 Culpepper explains that while symbols are distinct, some overlap always exists, which results in symbolic metaphors,31 motifs with symbolic function,32 and symbols or metaphors used as signs.33 Apart from the obvious absence of a tenor in the literary symbol,34 Johannine scholars note other distinctions between symbol and metaphor. Some of these distinctions are based on the socio-historical background and semantic conventions of certain words,35 linguistics,36 or speci¿city of statements.37 Others perceive no distinction between symbol and metaphor and describe these two ¿gures of speech as operating on a continuum.38 Even though Lee makes some distinctions,

29. Culpepper, Anatomy, 188–89. 30. Ibid., 181. 31. Ibid., 189. 32. Ibid., 183. 33. Ibid., 182. 34. I. A. Richards introduced the term ‘tenor’ for the subject of the metaphor, and ‘vehicle’ for the metaphor itself. I. A. Richards, Philosophy of Rhetoric (New York: Oxford University Press, 1965), 96. 35. Ashton differentiates between life as a symbol, and eternal life as a metaphor; according to him, ¸ĊŪÅÀÇË makes eternal life a metaphor. Ashton, Understanding the Fourth Gospel, 217. Van der Watt views symbols as ¿gurative language that work on convention; thus a metaphor may become a symbol when fossilized though semantic convention. Van der Watt, Family of the King, 4. 36. For instance, Lee explains that symbols cover a wide range of expressions such as painting, sculpture, architecture, music, dance, dreams, actions, and events; on the other hand, as a feature of discourse, metaphors are con¿ned to linguistics. Lee, Flesh and Glory, 17. 37. See Wade Paschal who explains that the statement, ‘I am the true Vine’ cannot be symbolic because it is speci¿c. Paschal, ‘Sacramental Symbolism’, 152. 38. Koester describes the relation between symbol and metaphor as ‘a continuum’. According to him, the most identi¿able symbols appear in form of metaphors. For example, in the metaphorical statement, ‘I am the bread of life’ (6.11–13, 35), bread functions symbolically because incongruity is apparent. Koester makes the distinction that symbols evolve from images in the realm of sense perception, while elements of metaphor are more abstract such as seen in statements such as ‘I am the resurrection and the life’ and ‘I am the way, the truth, and the life’, which are metaphorical in form, but do not include symbols. Koester, Symbolism, 6, 8. Ng also 1

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she concludes that symbol and metaphor cannot be easily divided; she states, ‘The disconnection between symbol and metaphor creates too many problems, both literary and theological. In the Johannine worldview, at least the two clearly belong together’.39 Lee’s conclusion that the two are interconnected is correct; however, failure to distinguish theoretically how these two ¿gures of speech relate to one another and how they operate together within the Gospel tends to compound the interpretation of Johannine symbolism. It is important to provide theoretical clarity that explains the metaphorical dimensions of the Gospel’s symbolic network, so as to avoid blurring the respective functions of ‘symbol’ and ‘metaphor’. The Johannine network of symbols is interwoven with metaphors. Symbols and metaphors, each with their own function, operate jointly in the Gospel of John, ful¿lling a common theological purpose of revealing Jesus as the Son of God. Metaphors such as the ‘I Am’ sayings introduce certain symbols when these metaphors appear in a Christological context; they operate symbolically and become part of the symbolic network.40 1.4.3. The Structure of Johannine Symbolism The symbols in the Gospel of John are diverse in socio-cultural provenance, multilayered in meaning, disparate in distribution, and, therefore, characteristically cryptic. The task of structuring Johannine symbols is of essential importance for identifying a symbolic structure within the Gospel narrative. Some Johannine scholars have offered various classi¿cations, which help to shed light on the Gospel’s symbolic structure. Culpepper proposes a broad classi¿cation that takes into account several characteristics of Johannine symbols, such as background, narrative function, and variableness; his classi¿cation shows how Johannine symbols cluster and interrelate.41 Other scholars also offer multi-level

believes that symbols and metaphors are related on a continuum; she explains that symbols have a broader application and are more expansive than metaphors. Ng, Water Symbolism, 6. 39. Lee, Flesh and Glory, 23. 40. See section 2.6 of Chapter 2 for more of this study’s differentiation between symbol, metaphor and imagery. 41. Culpepper’s classi¿cation is as follows: (1) nature (material, animal, personal, or numerological), (2) function within the narrative (allegorical or transcending), (3) ‘core and guide’ or ‘co- and subordinated’ symbols, (4) personal and impersonal symbols, and (5) expanding and ¿xed symbols. Culpepper, Anatomy, 184, 185, 189. According to Culpepper, the three core Johannine symbols are light, water, and bread. Ibid., 201. 1

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The Son–Father Relationship

classi¿cations. Paul Anderson identi¿es four categories of symbolization—explicit, implicit, correlative, and innocent.42 Xavier Léon-Dufour discerns a ‘double symbolism’, that is, two levels of symbolic operation, based on cultural milieu.43 Koester identi¿es a twofold structure in which the ¿rst level of meaning concerns Christ and the second level, discipleship.44 Zimmermann distinguishes two domains of symbolism—the ¿rst consists of basic symbols of human life such as light, water, and birth, and the second covers symbols from the Jewish tradition.45 Lee also identi¿es two levels of symbolic meaning; the ¿rst level relates to material reality of the world; on the second level, Johannine characters struggle to understand.46 Other Johannine scholars base the symbolic structure of the Gospel on only one symbol47 or theme, such as dualism48 or incarnation.49 Scholars 42. According to Anderson, explicit symbolism is declarative when the narrator or character tells the reader directly that something is symbolically important. Implicit symbolism is associative when meaning is not explicitly articulated. Correlative symbolism is possibly symbolic. Innocent symbolism is when a symbol lacks symbolizing functions. P. N. Anderson, ‘Gradations of Symbolization in the Johannine Passion Narrative: Control Measures for Theologizing Speculation Gone Awry’, in Frey, Van der Watt, and Zimmerman, eds., Imagery in the Gospel of John, 170–88. 43. The ¿rst level is the meaning from the Jewish cultural milieu in which Jesus lived, while the second level is the Christian cultural milieu that inspired John’s interpretation. These two milieus form a uni¿ed reading. Léon-Dufour, ‘Towards a Symbolic Reading’, 440–41. 44. Koester explains that the ¿rst half of the ‘I am’ statement in 6.35 reads ‘I am the Bread of Life’, which makes a statement about Jesus; the second half reads ‘He who comes to me shall not hunger and he who believes in me shall never thirst’, which says something about the believer. Koester, Symbolism, 13. Koester describes the structure of Johannine symbolism as ‘concentric, with Jesus at its heart’. Ibid., 4. 45. Zimmermann suggests that identi¿cation of symbols should take place by means the following two criteria: (1) conventional plausibility, and (2) textual plausibility. Conventional plausibility occurs when a symbol is understood within the social-traditional convention of early Judaism while textual plausibility occurs when clues in the text make it clear that a term is symbolic. Zimmermann, ‘Imagery in John’, 20–23. 46. Lee, Flesh and Glory, 19. 47. Studies on individual symbols include the following: Evil: Stemberger, La Symbolique du bien et du mal. Flesh/incarnation: Lee, Flesh and Glory; Schneiders, Written That You May Believe; Garden: R. Zimmermann, ‘Symbolic Communication between John and His Reader: The Garden Symbolism in John 19–20’, in Anatomies of Narrative Criticism: Past, Present, and Futures of the Fourth Gospel as Literature (ed. T. Thatcher and S. D. Moore; Atlanta: SBL, 2008), 221–35. Sacrament: Paschal, ‘Sacramental Symbolism’; S. M. Schneiders, ‘Symbolism and 1

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who argue for the dominance of one symbol over all the other symbols in the Gospel establish their case by highlighting the signi¿cance of the symbol and then illustrating how it relates to or dominates all other symbols and ¿gures of speech.50 The result of this approach tends to make an individual symbol vie for the status of most important symbol in the entire Gospel.51 Johannine symbol studies that argue for one overarching symbol tend to ignore the possibility of a common denominator that links all the symbols together. Practically every Christological symbol points to Jesus; thus, the identi¿cation of one symbol as the center of John’s symbolic structure is moot. The complexity of Johannine symbolism calls for deep probing into its overarching structural composition. Only Craig Koester’s Symbolism in the Fourth Gospel: Meaning, Mystery, Community (2003) gives a the Sacramental Principle in the Fourth Gospel’, in Segnie sacramenti nel Vangelo di Giovanni (ed. P.-R. Tragan; SA 66; Rome: Editrice Anselmiana, 1977), 221–35. Temple: Coloe, God Dwells with Us. Water: Ng, Water Symbolism; Jones, Symbol of Water. 48. Ashton, Understanding the Fourth Gospel, 404. According to Ashton, the symbols of light and darkness are archetypal symbols, which establish the basic symbolic pattern in the Gospel. Ibid., 208–209. 49. Lee describes the Christological symbol of Àesh as an expanding symbol that stretches to incorporate Jesus’ incarnation, ministry, death, resurrection, and risen presence. Lee, Flesh and Glory, 65. In her study, Lee builds a case for Àesh (incarnation) as the Gospel’s core symbol and highlights how this symbol connects to other symbols, particularly the symbol of glory. 50. Studies of individual symbols have much to offer in terms of historical, social, and theological background, narrative development, and theological function. There is de¿nitely need for more study on individual symbols, explaining how they function and interact with other symbols within the larger matrix of Johannine symbolism. 51. For Lee, the symbol of the Àesh is the ‘controlling symbol which makes room for all the others’. Lee, Flesh and Glory, 222. According to Lee, the incarnation is the ‘centrepiece of the Johannine symbolic universe upon which all else is built’. Ibid., 32 (my emphasis). She also states that the symbol of Àesh is the core symbol of the Gospel. Ibid., 51. Through Jn 4, Ng demonstrates the comprehensive nature of water symbolism, showing how themes of salvation, incarnation, worship, eternal life, rebirth, Holy Spirit, harvest, spiritual food, and mission are all interwoven with the symbol of water. Ng, Water Symbolism in John, 152–53. Ng surmises that, eschatologically, water symbolism plays a versatile and outstanding role in the Gospel. Ibid., 95. Ashton believes that the symbol of life is the Gospel’s central symbol because other symbols such as bread, water, and wine cluster around it. Ashton, Understanding the Fourth Gospel, 218–19. Coloe states, ‘I propose to show that the Temple functions in the narrative as the major Christological symbol’. Coloe, God Dwells with Us, 3 (my emphasis). 1

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The Son–Father Relationship

resourceful and comprehensive overview of practically every symbol in the Gospel.52 Koester, however, offers little in terms of a distinct comprehensive and methodological framework for interpreting Johannine symbols as a network. The need exists to explore the possibility of a factor (or factors) that unite the diverse spectrum of symbols in the Gospel and explain how they operate as an organized whole. This study identi¿es a common denominator that unites the seemingly diverse spectrum of Johannine symbolism. Jesus the Son, who identi¿es himself primarily through his relationship with God the Father, is the center of John’s symbolic world. Hence, this study identi¿es the SFR as the center of John’s symbolic world. The Son–Father language is an undeniable feature of the Gospel; virtually every Johannine scholar recognizes the relationship between the Son and his Father as integral to the Gospel’s presentation of Jesus. However, no study has explored how the SFR may contribute to the structure of the Gospel’s symbolic network;53 discussions focus mostly on socio-cultural or theological aspects of the SFR. In Johannine research, references to the SFR are generally in the following areas: (1) the Jewish and Greco-Roman background of ‘Son of God’ or ‘Father’ as divine titles,54 (2) the Son and Father as literary characters,55 (3) theology 52. The scope of Koester’s research is impressive. His study covers symbolic characters, symbolic actions, symbols in relation to hearing, seeing, believing, symbols of light, darkness, water, cruci¿xion, relationship between symbol and the Johannine community, symbol and unity, symbol and discipleship, symbol and revelation, symbol and the world, sacramental symbolism, geographical symbolism, and numerical symbolism. 53. Van der Watt’s Family of the King comes closest to a broad survey of the SFR in the context of ¿gurative language. Moreover, Van der Watt interprets the Son–Father language under of the broad spectrum of the metaphorical nature of family imagery. His focus on the SFR is mostly limited to a subsection entitled ‘The Father Educating the Son to Give Life’, where he examines the SFR in terms of ethics, communication, love, and honour, within the context of ancient Mediterranean education. Van der Watt, Family of the King, 202–209, 266–333. 54. See W. F. Lofthouse, The Father and the Son: A Study in Johannine Thought (London: Student Christian Movement Press, 1934); E. J. Blekkink, The Fatherhood of God (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1942); Dodd, Interpretation, 228–62; Ashton, Understanding the Fourth Gospel, 308–29; C. S. Keener, The Gospel of John: A Commentary, vol. 1 (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2003), 291–97, 310–31; Lee discusses ‘father’ as a symbol of God. See Lee, Flesh and Glory, 110–28. The entire edition of Semeia 85 (1999) is dedicated to the subject of God as Father. 55. See J. A. Du Rand, ‘The Characterization of Jesus as Depicted in the Narrative of the Fourth Gospel’, Neot 19 (1985): 18–36; Culpepper, Anatomy, 106– 15; Koester, Symbolism, 39–42; P. W. Meyer, ‘The Father: The Presentation of God 1

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17

and Christology,56 and (4) topical aspects such as sending57 and oneness.58 Other discussions of the SFR are scattered throughout various Johannine commentaries. In sum, no research has yet centered on the important role of the SFR within the context of the Gospel’s overall symbolic structure.59 This study aims to close this gap and demonstrate how the SFR contributes to the unity of Johannine symbolism by weaving the Gospel’s symbols together under a common scheme of thought, thereby, demonstrating their validity and relevance. 1.4.4. Developing Theoretical Frameworks The task of identifying a symbolic structure in the Gospel of John requires a clear theoretical framework that can elucidate the wide array of symbols in the narrative. Culpepper’s seminal work interacts with several literary theorists, including symbolists such as Seymour Chatman, E. K. Brown, Thomas Fawcett, Norman Friedman, Walter Hinderer, Paul Ricoeur, and Philip E. Wheelwright; hence, Culpepper’s research paved the way for the use of modern literary theory in the interpretation of Johannine symbols. Most Johannine scholars brieÀy refer to modern in the Fourth Gospel’, in Exploring the Gospel of John: Essays in Honor of D. Moody Smith (ed. R. A. Culpepper and C. Black; Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1996), 255–73; Harris D. Francois Tolmie, ‘The Characterization of God in the Fourth Gospel’, in Reconceiving Narrative Criticism (JSNTSup 69; Shef¿eld: Shef¿eld Academic Press, 1998), 57–75. 56. See T. Larsson, God in the Fourth Gospel: A Hermeneutical Study of the History of Interpretations (ConBNT 35; Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 2001); M. M. Thompson, The God of the Gospel of John (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001); R. E. Brown, An Introduction to the Gospel of John (ed. F. J. Moloney; ABRL; New York: Doubleday, 2003), 249–52; C. Cowan, ‘The Father and Son in the Fourth Gospel: Johannine Subordination Revisited’, JETS 49, no. 1 (2006): 115–36; A. J. Kostenberger and S. R. Swain, Father, Son and Spirit: The Trinity and John’s Gospel (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2008). 57. See J. Comblin, Sent from the Father: Meditations on the Fourth Gospel (trans. Carl Kabat; New York: Orbis Books, 1979); H. S. Friend, ‘Like Father, Like Son: A Discussion of the Concept of Agency in Halakah and John’, ATJ 21 (1990): 18–28; E. Schweizer, ‘What Do We Really Mean when We Say, God Sent His Son’, in Faith and History: Essays in Honor of Paul W. Meyer (ed. J. T. Carroll, C. H. Cosgrove, and E. E. Johnson; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990), 298–312; C. Mercer, ‘Jesus the Apostle: “Sending” and the Theology of John’, JETS 35 (1992): 457–62. 58. See M. L. Appold, The Oneness Motif in the Fourth Gospel: Motif Analysis and Exegetical Probe into the Theology of John (Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1976). 59. Lee’s book, Flesh and Glory, includes a helpful chapter entitled ‘Authoring Life: The Symbol of God as Father’. This chapter treats the term ‘Father’ as a symbol; although it provides much insight into the divine relationship, it does not connect the SFR to a symbolic network. 1

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literary theories in their studies;60 however, these studies do not offer clearly delineated theoretical frameworks. Koester’s comprehensive study is shaped by the theological question: How do people know God? Koester, who focuses on the role of symbolism in communicating the Gospel’s message from God, uses a methodology that explores ‘the Gospel’s literary dimensions, socio-historical context, and theological import’.61 Koester’s work does not offer a clear framework that explains the theoretical underpinning of the wide scope of symbolism that his study covers.62 Koester’s work indicates a problem encountered in the interpretation of Johannine symbolism, that of navigating the balance between theology and theory. The theological nature of the Gospel’s authorial intent, narrative, and symbolism is undisputable; however, the Gospel writer uses a theoretical entity, namely the symbol, to convey his theology. The symbol is a literary construct that operates on theoretical principles, which facilitate meaning. Johannine symbols should, therefore, be understood as theoretical and theological constructs that contain hermeneutical 60. Some of these theories are contained in the following works: C. K. Ogden and I. A. Richards, The Meaning of Meaning: A Study of the InÀuence of Language upon Thought and of the Science of Symbolism (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1946); N. Frye, Anatomy of Criticism (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1957); M. Black, Models and Metaphor (New York: Cornell University Press, 1962); Richards, Philosophy of Rhetoric; W. Freedman, ‘The Literary Motif: A De¿nition and Evaluation’, Novel 4, no. 2 (1971): 123–31; W. Hinderer, ‘Theory, Conception, and Interpretation of the Symbol: Theory of the Symbol’, in Perspectives in Literary Symbolism (ed. J. Strelka; Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1972), 83–127; Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory; P. Ricoeur, The Rule of Metaphor: Multidisciplinary Studies of the Creation of Meaning in Language (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1981). 61. Koester, Symbolism, xi. 62. Koester refers to literary theories of Freedman, Ricoeur, and Wheelwright to explain characteristics of the symbol; however, he does not use these theories to form a framework for his study. Ibid., 9, 24, 26. Other Johannine studies that focus on one symbol are also devoid of theoretical frameworks. Ng notes this lack of wellde¿ned theoretical frameworks and methodological strategies in Johannine symbol studies but offers no clear methodology of her own; her attempts at both theory and methodology are vague and elusive. Ng, Water Symbolism, 24. In his study on the symbol of water, Larry Jones’s reference to literary theory does not develop beyond a de¿nition of symbol. Jones, Symbol of Water, 14–19. Mary Coloe’s study on temple symbolism devotes approximately three pages to symbol theory and offers no theoretical framework. Coloe, God Dwells with Us, 4–7. Lee’s work on the symbol of Àesh refers to theories of religious symbols expounded by Karl Rahner and Paul Tillich. Lee, Flesh and Glory, 225. Lee also does not establish a well-de¿ned theoretical framework in which to present her strong and valid theological claims. 1

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keys for interpreting the Gospel. Within the phenomenon of the symbol are theoretical concepts that should be uncovered in order to explain how the diverse spectrum of Johannine symbolism coheres. Theological inquiries into Johannine symbolism would be strongly supported by a properly organized theoretical framework. This study develops an interdisciplinary theory that attempts to explain foundational concepts that may form the basis of John’s symbolic network. This theoretical model identi¿es elements common to the Gospel’s multifaceted symbolism, thereby providing much needed cohesion for the narrative’s symbolic network. 1.4.5. Summary The above review of Johannine scholarship has sought to determine how scholars have approached the study of Johannine symbolism in four areas. First, on the issue of de¿ning the symbol, the notion of one de¿nition of symbol for Johannine studies is a lost cause. The symbol as a literary entity is dif¿cult to con¿ne; likewise, the Johannine symbol device de¿es exact de¿nition. De¿nitions depend largely upon the purpose and scope of the research at hand. Second, every research into the symbols of the Fourth Gospel has to tackle the symbol–metaphor conundrum; in this area, Johannine scholars have offered various explanations of the dynamic relation between symbols and metaphors, revealing how both ¿gures of speech work together in the Johannine narrative. Third, Johannine scholars have put much effort into the classi¿cation of symbols in the Gospel; however, these classi¿cations contribute more to analysis than synthesis. That John’s symbols are diverse is evident—the question is: Do they unite under a common denominator, and how are they all connected to serve the author’s narrative and theological purposes? This research intends to answer this question and thus contribute to the progress made so far in Johannine symbol studies. Fourth, with regard to symbol theory, although Johannine scholars refer to works of well-known literary theorists, a lack exists of clear and concise theoretical frameworks that encapsulate the nature and function of the Gospel’s symbolic network. Studies in Johannine symbolism have been driven by many concerns, each legitimate in its own right. Scholars have made great advances in the study of Johannine symbolism by disseminating much information about the literary and theological function of Johannine symbols. Social, cultural, and historical backgrounds have been explored, which has allowed John’s symbolic world to be less complicated and more comprehensible than previously known. It is hoped that this study will also make a valuable contribution to the task of making the navigation of John’s symbolic world an easier one. 1

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1.5. Research on Figurative Networks in the Gospel of John Van der Watt and Zimmermann, whose studies focus on metaphor and imagery respectively, are the only scholars who have attempted to reveal ¿gurative networks in the Gospel of John. The works of Van der Watt and Zimmermann serve as examples of how a symbolic network may be unveiled in the Johannine narrative; this review highlights the approaches these two scholars have employed in their studies. 1.5.1. Van der Watt’s Descriptive and Deductive Method Van der Watt depicts his method as ‘a descriptive endeavor in order to determine the functional dynamics of complex metaphors’.63 He explains further: I carefully described the way in which John himself applies his own metaphors… By carefully describing the way in which metaphors and other ¿gurative elements are used in these extensive and complex collections of metaphors, the basic elements of what could be called ‘John’s theory of metaphor’ can be established.64

Van der Watt develops a theory of metaphor by analyzing Jn 15, 10, and 4 respectively; this review will single out his analysis of Jn 15, in order to show how he arrives at a theory and network.65 First, Van der Watt underlines the importance of interpreting metaphors within their socio-historical context.66 Second, as a framework for interpreting the vine metaphor, he describes in detail the socio-cultural context of viticulture in Greek and Jewish antiquity.67 Third, Van der Watt analyzes the metaphorical language of the ¿rst eight verses of ch. 15;68 his analysis leads to a theory of four ‘metaphorical constructions’, namely, (1) substitution, (2) analogical interaction, (3) comparison, and (4) climactic description.69 Van der Watt’s method shows how metaphors

63. Van der Watt, Family of the King, 24. 64. Ibid., xv. 65. Ibid., 25–54. 66. Ibid., 12. 67. Points highlighted by Van der Watt include the following: (1) special care given by the gardener of the vine, (2) pruning the vine, (3) the fruit of the vine, (4) the gardener’s emotional involvement with the vine, and (5) aspects of vine farming absent in John’s metaphor. Ibid., 26–29. 68. Ibid., 31–48. Van der Watt also examines vine imagery in the rest of ch. 15 and discusses vine imagery as Old Testament symbolism. Ibid., 50–54. 69. ‘Substitution’ occurs when literal words are replaced with ¿gurative words resulting in personi¿cation. Personi¿cation eases the semantic tension occurring in

1

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21

in the Gospel form a semantic cohesion on both meso- and macro-levels. At the meso-level, metaphors relate together to create a larger image,70 while at the macro-level, they form intra-textual relationships.71 Van der Watt also identi¿es a thematic cohesion in the text, this cohesion of themes occurs in the following areas: (1) semantic ¿eld of thematically related words, (2) repetition of words, objects, or motifs, (3) stylistic features such as parallelism or chiasm, (4) linguistic features like syntax and semantics, and (5) use of words belonging to the same semantic ¿eld within a single context (e.g., light, lamp, and blindness).72 Van der Watt unveils a network of family metaphors that include those of father, son, brothers, house, birth, and life. For example, in the metaphor of birth, Van der Watt examines birth in the ancient Mediterranean world and lists all direct and indirect references to spiritual birth

metaphorical statements like ‘I am the Door’ (10.7) or ‘I am the Vine’ (15.1). Van der Watt explains, ‘Through personi¿cation the qualities of the inanimate door are transferred to Jesus, and vice versa. Within the boundaries of the imagery this lowering of the borders between the literal and ¿gurative worlds becomes possible as well as functional’. ‘Analogical interaction’ takes place, for example, in ch. 15, with the use of verbs like ‘pruning’, ‘remaining’, and ‘bearing fruit’. Verbs common to vehicles and tenors bring about analogical interactions. In 15.2, the Father prunes the disciples as a gardener prunes branches, and in 15.4–5 the disciples are to stay in Jesus and bear fruit as branches are attached to the vine. ‘Comparison’ parallels two different situations and states the exact points of comparison. For example, 15.4 makes a comparison between fruitfulness in branches and fruitfulness in the disciples; here, the metaphor mirrors two different situations with fruitfulness being the point of comparison. Last, ‘climactic descriptions’ give metaphors dramatic effect. In the Gospel, dramatic effect occurs when nouns and verbs, usually joined together with Á¸ţ clauses, appear in conjunction with one another. An example is in 15.6, where climactic description magni¿es the horror of destruction; four verbs linked by Á¸ţ describe how the branches will be gathered and burned. Ibid., 111–17. 70. For instance, in ch. 15 metaphors substitute the ¿gurative realities of gardener, vine, and branches for the Father, Jesus, and his disciples respectively; these objects then interact with one another. The gardener (Father) prunes the vine (Jesus), while the branches (disciples) stay in the vine (Jesus). Van der Watt concludes that substitutional and interactive metaphors cohere to form a semantic network of metaphors, which creates meaning in the text. Ibid., 123–24. 71. As related metaphors are repeated, they join with previously mentioned themes to form images. According to Van der Watt, themes in chs. 14 and 15 are interrelated by similar terms such as ¼Š¾Á¸, ëÅÌÇÂŢ, and ÁŦÊÄÇË. Thus, the vine metaphor in ch. 15 reÀects what Jesus said in ch. 14; in both chapters, concepts such as unity and remaining in Christ lead to a macro interpretation. Ibid., 126–27. 72. Ibid., 135–37. 1

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in the Gospel, after which he interprets the metaphor of birth in chapters 3.1–10; 1.12–13, and 8.73 Van der Watt arrives at his network of birth metaphor by connecting all references to birth in the Gospel.74 Van der Watt’s descriptive and deductive method is primarily semantic; key metaphorical terms are identi¿ed and linked together based on ancient Mediterranean socio-historical culture. In sum, the networks of metaphors in Van der Watt’s research are formed by observing lexical, semantic, and socio-historical connections throughout the Johannine narrative. 1.5.2. Zimmermann’s Network of Images Zimmermann refers to his method as a ‘compositional path’,75 which he explains in the following words: Instead of searching for individual genres of imagery, as in the older form criticism, one makes more progress by looking at imagery as a partial aspect of a coherent and complete work… I would like to describe textimmanent compositional techniques on a literary-synchronic level, which demonstrate how John formed and composed his images within the framework of his complete work.76

Zimmermann identi¿es three forms of ‘image composition’, which are as follows: (1) clusters of images within a small text, (2) images within a motif, and (3) image networks in the entire Gospel. Clusters of images within a small passage consist of the superimposition of connected images within a small number of verses.77 These clusters manifest in two ways. First, they appear side by side in close succession. Using ¿ne art analogy, Zimmermann refers to this composition as a ‘polyptychon’ or ‘patchwork technique’.78 For example, 1.1–18 contains a cluster that includes the terms ‘logos’, ‘God’, ‘Light’, ‘only begotten’, and ‘Àesh’. The second type of cluster consists of images superimposed on each other in such a way that they are inseparable.79 According to Zimmermann, the 73. Van der Watt does not apply his theory of climactic description to his study of the metaphor of birth. 74. Ibid., 166–200. Van der Watt examines other aspects of family imagery such as education, ethics, communication, love, honor, care and protection. He also covers various other elements, such as friendship, Holy Spirit, kingship, judicial (forensic), and bridegroom imagery. Ibid., 360–93. 75. Zimmermann, ‘Imagery in John’, 27. 76. Ibid., 30. 77. Ibid. 78. Ibid., 30–31. 79. Ibid., 31. 1

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most obvious example of this kind of cluster is the inseparable blending of ‘Son’ and the ‘one who has been sent’.80 Variations of images within a motif occur when the same image is transposed, modulated, reversed, or reÀected. For example, the imagery of natural light becomes experiential (11.9–10; 12.35), or expresses John’s dualism (1.4–5; 3.19; 12.36).81 Thus, according to Zimmermann, the author of the Gospel uses a combination of normal life experience, linguistics, and symbolic tradition to lead the reader into a deeper understanding.82 Image networks in the entire Gospel consist of images and motifs that recur throughout the entire Gospel. These images may appear at the beginning, middle, and/or end of the Gospel (e.g., ‘King’ in 1.49; 12.13; 19.21), or they may appear constantly throughout the Gospel (e.g., ‘one who is sent’ and ‘son’).83 Zimmermann notes that in the Gospel, a group of images may branch out like nets to another group. For example, the shepherding images of ‘door’, shepherd’, and ‘lamb’, and metaphors of ‘grain of wheat’ and ‘grapevine’, come under the larger image of agriculture.84 In the following statement Zimmermann notes that these images portray unity in diversity: Overall, the images neither break down, nor are they only united to a colorful collage in the outer frame of the gospel. Both the networks of different images beside and within each other, as well as the diversity of individual images linking across the entire network, serve the same purpose. They are each in their own way representations of Jesus Christ.85

80. Ibid., 31–32. Zimmermann’s patchwork technique enables the reading of contradictory images juxtaposed with each another (e.g., Jesus as both Door and Shepherd in Jn 10). In Christologie der Bilder, Zimmermann argues that this blending is a deliberate creation of the author: ‘Even if John connects these two Christological titles, which are probably anchored in tradition, nevertheless, he overlays them so consistently that one must recognize a conscious design in his linking of both titles’. Zimmermann, Christologie der Bilder, 414 (translation mine). 81. Zimmermann, ‘Imagery in John’, 32. 82. Ibid., 33. 83. Zimmermann argues that images such as the depiction of Christ as the ‘one who is sent’ should be viewed in their entirety. He argues that readers’ have the responsibility to ‘put the mosaic of sending declarations, which do not build upon each other either in a chronologically or logically consistent way, together into a complete picture’. Ibid., 33–35. 84. Ibid., 36. 85. Zimmermann, Christologie der Bilder, 421 (translation mine). 1

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The Son–Father Relationship

Consequently, the reader’s perception of Christ is formed through repeated readings of Johannine network of images.86 Zimmermann’s compositional approach, therefore, notes distinctive patterns in which Johannine images emerge as they are followed in the reading of the Gospel. Zimmermann, therefore, concludes that the Johannine narrative is ‘¿guratively shaped’.87 1.5.3. Summary Although Van der Watt and Zimmermann differ in their approaches and techniques, their works show how ¿gurative networks can be identi¿ed in the Johannine narrative. Van der Watt pays little attention to the narrative structure of the Johannine Gospel.88 His ‘descriptive and deductive’ method reveals an elaborate system of metaphors that focus on the narrative’s semantic structure and on the ancient Mediterranean socio-historical background of Johannine metaphors. On the other hand, Zimmermann pays more attention to the text’s narrative features while emphasizing the theological importance of John’s network of images. Van der Watt and Zimmermann, however, both develop theories and reveal multi-level ¿gurative structures in the Johannine narrative. Van der Watt develops a four-fold theory of metaphor by identifying, on meso- and macro-levels, metaphors linked by semantic cohesion.89 Van der Watt’s theory of metaphor is based on a socio-historical analysis of father and son in ancient Mediterranean culture. Zimmermann’s theory consists of three types of image compositions; he identi¿es images on four levels, namely, speech, themes, chapters, and the entire Gospel. Zimmermann’s description of clusters of Johannine images is portrayed in a vibrant semantic and theological interaction with the text. The methods employed by Van der Watt and Zimmermann shed light on how to identify ¿gurative structures underlying the Johannine text. Their works will facilitate the theoretical and methodological strategy this study will use in identifying a symbolic network in the Gospel of John.

86. Zimmermann, ‘Imagery in John’, 35. 87. Ibid., 24. According to Zimmermann, these ‘¿gurative narratives’ exhibit the following in the Gospel text: coherence, development of imagery, and elements such as time and characters. Ibid., 23–26. 88. Van der Watt, Family of the King, 3. 89. Van der Watt clearly applies three of his four theorems, namely, substitution, interaction, and comparison; he applies climactic description only minimally.

1

1. John’s Figurative World

25

1.6. Working De¿nitions The term ÊŧĹÇÂÇÅ does not occur in the text of the Gospel of John;90 therefore, this study needs to clarify why the symbol has been selected as the primary ¿gurative device for presenting John’s revelation of Jesus. The symbol has been chosen for the following reasons: (1) the literary characteristics of the symbol incorporates many of the characteristics of metaphor and imagery,91 consequently most metaphors and imagery in the Johannine narrative function symbolically,92 (2) generally, the symbol rather than the metaphor, is more commonly identi¿ed with theological/ religious language and discourse, and (3) Jesus’ actions, and the Gospel’s narrative sections, discourses, idiomatic phrases, and characters are usually described by scholars as ‘symbolic’ rather than ‘metaphorical’. In sum, due to its all-encompassing nature, the symbol is more ¿tting as the primary means of understanding Johannine ¿gurative language. An important step in navigating a theoretical path for the study of Johannine symbolism is to decide on working de¿nitions.93 De¿nitions for ‘symbol’ abound because they are used in various disciplines such as literature, linguistics, religion, anthropology, psychology, and philosophy. Due to its expansive nature, the best way to approach symbolism in a narrative is to articulate clearly the meaning of the word ‘symbol’ as it will be used in a study.94 A clear and precise de¿nition for the word ‘symbol’ not only lays out a basic meaning for working with the text, but also sets forth interpretative boundaries for investigation into what could otherwise be an intractable undertaking. 90. Neither do the terms ļ̸ÎÇÉŠ (‘metaphor’) or ¼ĊÁŪÅ (‘image’) appear in the Gospel. 91. According to Harris, New Criticism tended to regard the symbol as a strong form of metaphor. W. V. Harris, Dictionary of Concepts in Literary Criticism and Theory (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1992), 402. William Yeats states that metaphors ‘are not profound enough to be moving, when they are not symbols, and when they are symbols, they are the most perfect of all’. W. B. Yeats, ‘The Symbolism of Poetry’, in Essays (New York: Macmillan, 1924), 188–202 (36). 92. Semantically, metaphors are textually constrained; however, since virtually all Johannine metaphors exceed their metaphoric function, they operate symbolically, leading to transcendent meaning. 93. See Lee, who con¿rms the need for speci¿c de¿nition: ‘No study of religious symbolism within a text such as the Fourth Gospel can bypass the question of de¿nition. The issue of how to interpret the Bible is related directly to the way we believe symbolism operates within the biblical narrative.’ Lee, Flesh and Glory, 9. 94. According to Kenneth Burke, ‘No one quite uses the “symbolism” of a word in its mere dictionary sense and its usage is revealed by the company it keeps in the words of a writer’. K. Burke, The Philosophy of Literary Form: Studies in Symbolic Action (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1967), 33 (emphasis mine). 1

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1.6.1. Symbol The symbol has numerous characteristics that cannot all be contained in one de¿nition; an effective working de¿nition of ‘symbol’, therefore, comprises a clear and precise statement that identi¿es elements pertinent to the study at hand. The working de¿nition of symbol specially adapted for this study is as follows: A ¿gure of speech that embodies certain characteristics of its literal meaning, and leads to a transcendent meaning that is signi¿cant within its narrative context and transformative in its theological purpose.95 In de¿ning the Johannine symbol, scholars have often emphasized its theological nature over its literary function in the narrative. The basic function of symbols is literary; a de¿nition of symbol for the Gospel should include both theological and literary functions. The above de¿nition highlights the literary, narrative, and theological functions of the Johannine symbol. The essence of this de¿nition is transcendence, a trait inherent in virtually every Johannine symbol that represents the transcendent realities linked to Jesus’ origin and relationship with his Father. According to the above de¿nition, within the narrative setting of the Gospel, the Johannine symbol functions, ¿rst, as a literary ¿gure of speech that points beyond itself to a referent not explicit in the text. Second, the symbol operates by embodying some characteristics of its literal or primary meaning. For example, the symbol of light in the Prologue (1.4–5, 7–9) points to Jesus as the light of humanity, but, ¿rst, begins with the literal or basic meaning of ÎľË (‘light’). The symbol, light, embodies certain characteristics of natural light, such as brightness, which enables physical vision or gives guidance. A simple analogy to natural light, however, does not lead to an adequate interpretation of the symbol, for Jesus is not physical light dwelling in human beings (1.4, 9). The reader with certain characteristics of literal light in mind has to look for the meaning of ÎľË beyond its literal meaning to a transcendent meaning, which in the case of the Prologue is linked to Jesus’ transcendent origin. In 1.1–2, Jesus together with God is co-creator of humanity, and is, therefore, able to impart spiritual (not physical) light to humanity. In 1.5, spiritual darkness in the world is overcome with spiritual (not physical) light. The symbol of light in the Gospel does not point to earthly physical light; rather, it points to Jesus who is the embodiment of transcendent spiritual light from God, who guides people out of darkness. This symbolism of light expands as the narrative progresses.

1

95. A full explanation of this de¿nition is given in section 3.2 of Chapter 3.

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27

In sum, the symbol of light, as explained in the example above, initially embodies the literal concept of natural light which provides vision or guidance. An inadequacy of the literal analogy to arrive at the intended meaning of the symbol draws the reader to a transcendent meaning, understood in context of Jesus’ transcendent origins. This transcendent meaning is signi¿cant within the immediate context of the Prologue, for without it the reader cannot fully grasp the dimensions of how, in the larger narrative, light functions as a Christological symbol representing Jesus. Failure to grasp the transcendent meaning of the symbol at the introductory stage of the narrative results in misunderstanding or misinterpretation of the symbol when it reappears. As noted earlier, Johannine symbols rarely occur alone—they unite with other symbols and ¿gures of speech to reÀect transcendent ideas which facilitate symbolic meaning, and thus contribute to the Gospel’s symbolic network. To continue with light as the example, this symbol networks with other ¿gures of speech that represent concepts connected to light, such as darkness, night, day, sight, and knowledge; together, these ¿gurations form symbolic clusters that shape John’s Christological Symbology. 1.6.2. Symbology, Symbolic Language, Symbolic Cluster, and Symbograph The aim of this study is to reveal a symbolic network entitled ‘John’s Christological Symbology’. The working de¿nition for ‘symbology’ is as follows: An overarching network comprising symbols, symbolic language, and themes connected to a common denominator that runs through a narrative.96 Thus, John’s Christological Symbology is an overarching network of symbols, symbolic language, and themes having at its center a common denominator that can be identi¿ed throughout the Johannine narrative, namely, the SFR. In this study, ‘symbolic language’ or ‘symbolic term’ refers to words that have specialized meanings within the Johannine narrative and theology. Symbolic language is the specialized use of words including ¿gures of speech such as metaphors and imagery, or phrases and themes, which carry Christological signi¿cance, and emphasize the transcendent realities within the SFR.97 Symbolic language/terms express Johannine 96. This de¿nition of symbology is limited to the functions of a symbolic network within the con¿nes of a speci¿c text and therefore is more text-bound than the above de¿nition of symbol. 97. For example, the words »ÇÆŠ½Ñ/»ŦƸ, »ţ»ÑÄÀ, ìɺÇÅ, and ìÉÏÇĸÀ carry symbolic implication when they are used Christologically, by pointing to an aspect of Jesus’ person or mission, particularly in relation to the Father. 1

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worldview or theology, and at the same time point to the SFR. The use of symbolic language in this study ensures the identi¿cation and inclusion of metaphors, imagery, and themes that combine to form the symbolic network in the Gospel of John. John’s Christological Symbology is the overarching symbolic network in the entire narrative; however, this network contains smaller interrelated symbolic networks referred to as ‘symbolic clusters’. A symbolic cluster consists of a group of connected symbols/symbolic language and themes linked to the SFR. ‘Symbographs’ are visual illustrations such as charts or graphs, used to demonstrate the connections between the SFR and symbolic clusters. 1.7. The Prologue and the Prayer The Prologue and the Prayer are two important passages this study will use to unveil a symbolic network in the Gospel of John. The Prologue introduces the Gospel, the SFR, and Johannine symbolism;98 the passage 98. This research views the entire Gospel in its current canonical form as a uni¿ed whole. Discussions concerning the connection of the Prologue to the rest of the Gospel include that of Rudolf Bultmann, who sees no connection between the Prologue and what follows in the rest of the narrative. R. Bultmann, The Gospel of John: A Commentary (trans. G. R. Beasley-Murray, R. W. N. Hoare, and J. K. Riches; Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1971), 13. Stephen Smalley relates the Prologue to only the rest of ch. 1. S. S. Smalley, John: Evangelist and Interpreter (Exeter: Paternoster Press, 1978), 95. Thomas Brodie mentions in one passing sentence the Prologue’s relation to Jn 3. T. Brodie, The Gospel According to John: A Literary and Theological Commentary (New York/Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993), 138. Gail O’Day narrows the function of the Prologue to just one theme, the interaction between two spheres—the ‘timeless’ and ‘timebound’. G. R. O’Day, ‘The Word Become Flesh: Story and Theology in the Gospel of John’, in ‘What Is John?’ (ed. F. Segovia; Literary and Social Readings of the Fourth Gospel 2; Atlanta: SBL, 1998), 145–54 (69). Robert Kysar sees only one connection between the Prologue and the Gospel, namely, the impact of Jesus upon people. R. Kysar, Voyages with John: Charting the Fourth Gospel (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2005), 39. Meanwhile, other scholars have identi¿ed major links between the Prologue and Gospel. For example, George Mlakuzhyil notes similarities and links between the Prologue and the rest of the Gospel. G. Mlakuzhyil, The Christocentric Literary Structure (Rome: Editrice Ponti¿cio Istituto Biblico, 1987), 301. William Loader acknowledges John’s unique lexicology in the Prologue, noting that it reÀects the underlying structure of the Gospel’s Christology. W. Loader, The Christology of the Fourth Gospel: Structure and Issues (BBET 23; Frankfurt: Verlag Peter Lang, 1989), 39. Others who recognize a connection between the Prologue and Prayer are: M. E. Boismard, St. John’s Prologue (trans. C. Dominicans; Westminster, MD: Newman Press, 1957); J. E. Epp, ‘Wisdom, Torah, Word: The Johannine Prologue 1

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functions in the following ways: (1) it stylistically and symbolically introduces the SFR, (2) it connects key Johannine symbols to the SFR, thereby giving a preview of the symbolic narrative, and (3) its conclusion declares that the purpose of the Son’s ministry is to reveal the Father (1.18), which he ful¿ls by means of symbolic words and actions. The striking emphasis placed on the SFR at the beginning and end of the Prologue reveals the nature of the Christological revelation to follow; the narrative is to be understood in light of the SFR. The Prayer represents the pinnacle of the symbolically portrayed SFR for the following reasons: (1) it marks a major shift in the narrative as Jesus declares that he has ful¿lled his (teaching) mission of revealing the Father, (2) it is the longest and most intimate portrayal of the SFR, and (3) it is the last chapter in the narrative that contains a major cluster of symbols/symbolic language and themes. John’s Christological Symbology commences in the Prologue, develops in the ensuing narrative, and peaks in the Prayer, before concluding in the remainder of the Gospel. The Prologue and Prayer encapsulate the major symbolic clusters that portray the SFR in the Johannine narrative.99 These two passages are strategic in the Gospel’s presentation of the SFR, they reÀect similar symbolic content, and, therefore, will function as narrative anchors for John’s Christological Symbology. 1.8. Summary This chapter has laid the groundwork for the study to follow. The ¿rst part of the chapter has outlined the dif¿culties encountered when navigating John’s ¿gurative and symbolic world, and highlighted the progress Johannine scholars have made in overcoming these obstacles. The second half of the chapter analyzed two important researches into ¿gurative

and the Purpose of the Fourth Gospel’, in Current Issues in Biblical and Patristic Interpretation: Studies in Honor of Merrill C. Tenney (ed. G. F. Hawthorne; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1975), 128–46; R. A. Culpepper, ‘The Pivot of John’s Prologue’, NTS 27 (1980): 1–31; C. A. Evans, Word and Glory: On the Exegetical and Theological Background of John’s Prologue (JSNTSup 89; Shef¿eld: Shef¿eld Academic Press, 1993); W. H. Kelber, ‘The Birth of a Beginning: John 1:1–18’, in Stibbe, ed., The Gospel of John as Literature, 209–30; P. M. Phillips, The Prologue of the Fourth Gospel: A Sequential Reading (LNTS 294; New York: T&T Clark International, 2006), 3–15. 99. After the Prayer, the SFR appears only ¿ve times (18.7, 11; 20.17, 21; 31) in the Gospel narrative. A few symbols appear after the Prayer, but with no expositions as seen in chs. 1–17. 1

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networks in the Gospel of John; these two studies facilitate the development of a theory of symbol and provide guidance in charting John’s Christological Symbology. Special de¿nitions to be used in this study have been explained, and the strategic roles of the Prologue and Prayer for this study, clari¿ed. The expected result of this study is to con¿rm that the symbolic network in the Johannine narrative—John’s Christological Symbology—is shaped by the SFR. It is hoped that this study will add another lens through which the Gospel of John can be interpreted, namely, the SFR.

1

Chapter 2

THEORIES OF SYMBOL

2.1. Introduction Understanding Johannine symbolism begins with the problem of language—how does one cognitively communicate spiritual realities by means of a literary narrative? The Johannine narrative conveys its message about God through an extensive ¿gurative network dominated by symbols. This study attempts to uncover the theoretical underpinnings that hold the expansive network of Johannine symbols together. The symbols in the Gospel of John did not arise in a vacuum; although John does not articulate a theory of symbol, the use of symbolism in the Gospel narrative does not preclude one. The aim of this chapter, therefore, is to lay the groundwork for developing a theory of Johannine symbolism that would shed light on how the symbolic network operates in the Gospel. This theoretical investigation into the function and structural components of the symbol reveals the innate power of symbols to draw other ¿gures of speech into a symbolic network. The next section of this chapter examines the symbol as a literary device, and gives a brief introduction to the development of symbol theory in the literary world. Sections 2.3 and 2.4 review the multidisciplinary theories of Urban and Ricoeur respectively, highlighting principles that are pertinent to developing the theory of Johannine symbolism; section 2.5 discusses similarities between the theories of these two symbolists. Section 2.6 explains the dominance of symbols in terms of their semantic association with imageries and metaphors. The chapter concludes in section 2.7 with an explanation for the need of a theory of Johannine symbolism. 2.2. The Literary Symbol and Development of Symbol Theory The symbol is one of the many literary devices, called ‘¿gures of speech’, that occur when, in order to increase power and depth, words are used in

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forms different from their original or simplest meanings.1 Figurative language communicates meaning by the unusual use of ordinary language. This transformative use of normal language leads readers to search for deeper meanings in narratives.2 Richard M. Roberts and Roger J. Kreuz explain that despite its ambiguity, ¿gurative language is often used because it communicates more effectively than literal language.3 As a literary device, the symbol is generally described as a word or phrase that signi¿es an object or event having a range of reference beyond itself.4 ŧĹÇÂÇÅ means ‘throwing together’ (ÊŧÅ, ‘together’, and ¹ŠÂ¼ÀÅ, ‘to throw’);5 thus, the symbol unites the concrete sign to whatever it signi¿es.6 The symbol has an inherent ability to communicate meaning outside 1. Abrams de¿nes ¿gurative language as departure from the standard meaning of words to achieve a special meaning or effect. M. H. Abrams, A Glossary of Literary Terms (Fort Worth: Harcourt Brace College Publishers, 1993), 6. According to Ethelbert Bullinger, the Latin ¿gura (‘¿gure’), from which ‘¿gurative’ is derived, stems from ¿ngere, meaning ‘to form’. Ancient Greeks developed ¿guration into a science, naming over a hundred forms; the Greeks called these forms schema (ÊÏýĸ), and the Romans, ¿gura. Ethelbert William Bullinger, Figures of Speech Used in the Bible (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1968), v. Bullinger’s work catalogs 200 ¿gures of speech. Auerbach’s essay, ‘Figura’, traces the semantic history of this Latin word form Terence to Quintilian. In its earliest usage, ¿gura referred to physical form and was later absorbed into rhetorical vocabulary due to Hellenization. The meaning of ¿gura was later transformed by the Church Fathers. Erich Auerbach, ‘Figura’, in Scenes from the Drama of European Literature: Six Essays (Gloucester, MA: Peter Smith, 1973), 11–76 (12–15, 25–26). Quintilian de¿nes ¿gure of speech as, ‘Any deviation, either in thought or expression, from the ordinary and simple method of speaking’ (Instit. Orat. IX, i, 11). 2. This view is reÀected in Katheryn P¿sterer Darr’s discussion, where she explains that ¿gurative language carries out a combination of informative and performative functions. Informatively, ¿gurative language communicates ideas, data, and perspectives, while performatively it draws participation from readers. K. P¿sterer Darr, Isaiah’s Vision and the Family of God (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1994), 43. 3. R. M. Roberts and R. J. Kreuz, ‘Why Do People Use Figurative Language?’, PSS 5, no. 3 (1994): 159–63 (159). 4. Abrams, Glossary of Literary Terms, 206. 5. Bullinger, Figures of Speech, 769. In ancient Greek ÊŧĹÇÂÇÅ stood for one part of an object (e.g., a piece of pottery) broken in two as a gesture of hospitality and given by a host to a guest. The broken fragment was a promise of protection that the host’s family or tribe would welcome a guest at the sight of the ‘symbol’. Peyre, What Is Symbolism?, 6. 6. Ibid., 6. Peyre states that no hard-and-fast distinction can be drawn between sign and symbol; signs may become symbols and symbols may degenerate into signs. Therefore, the symbol is a special kind of sign. Peyre, What Is Symbolism?, 8. However, other symbolists do link symbol to sign; for example, Kahler explains that 1

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33

of its linguistic setting by leading the reader to a reference that is not explicit in the text; this phenomenon gives the symbol its transcendent power. Theories of symbol began with Hellenistic philosophical thought.7 Rules and guidelines for interpreting symbols began with Aristotle, and a continuous tradition of symbolism can be traced from Plato to Philo, Origen, Clement, and Augustine, until its complete formation in mediaeval times.8 Christian mediaeval writers then shaped symbolism religiously and philosophically through their interpretations of Christian symbols. the ¿rst stage of the symbol is the bridging act of the sign, an act of ‘de-signating’. The ¿xation of this bridging act as a separate entity marks the beginning of the symbol. Kahler goes on to explain that as soon as the sign is established it no longer merely points to something but gradually represents the thing it points to. This representation is the second and ¿nal state of the symbol. E. Kahler, ‘The Nature of the Symbol’, in Symbolism in Religion and Literature (ed. M. Rollo; New York: Braziller, 1960), 50–74 (54, 57). 7. According to Simon Brittan, Poetics by Aristotle is the ¿rst work devoted solely to literary theory. Poetics is recognized by modern linguists and literary scholars as central to the discussion on the nature of language and meaning. Aristotle recognized representation (¿gurative language) as an intellectual process and therefore argued that representations must have rules of interpretation. S. Brittan, Poetry, Symbol, and Allegory: Interpreting Metaphorical Language from Plato to the Present (Virginia: University of Virginia Press, 2003), 11–13. G. B. Caird, however, argues that that ¿gures are universal, not Greek in origin; it is the classi¿cation that is Greek. G. B. Caird, Language and Imagery of the Bible (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1980), 184. For more on Hellenism and ¿gurative language, see R. D. Anderson Jr., Glossary of Greek Rhetorical Terms Connected to Methods of Argumentation, Figures and Tropes from Anaximenes to Quintilian (Leuven: Peters, 2000). 8. Whitehead recounts that during the medieval period in Europe, symbolism dominated people’s imagination. However, Reformers who reacted to the Roman Catholic Church attempted to dispense with symbols. A. N. Whitehead, Symbolism, Its Meaning and Effect (New York: Macmillan, 1959), 1. From Augustine to Aquinas, the use of symbols was limited by Scripture; thus, symbols could convey meaning as long as they were in a biblical context. S. Brittan, Poetry, Symbol, and Allegory, 1, 4. Symbolism has always been present in every era and every branch of civilization. This constant presence is af¿rmed by Whitehead, who remarks that the symbol is ‘inherent in the very texture of human life’. This constant presence is af¿rmed by A. N. Whitehead, ‘Uses of Symbolism’, in Rollo, ed., Symbolism in Religion and Literature, 233–50 (254). Abraham Heschel also notes that symbolism is not a modern invention; rather, what is new is the role it has assumed. Heschel explains that in earlier times, symbolism was regarded as a form of religious thinking, while in modern times religion is regarded as a form of symbolic thinking. A. J. Heschel, Man’s Quest for God: Studies in Prayer and Symbolism (New York: Scribner, 1954), 127–29. 1

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In the Modern era, during the decades after World War I, major literary writers used symbols drawn from the religious traditions of medieval Christianity.9 In the nineteenth century, when Christian belief was declining, however, the Symbolist Movement of the Parisian poets promoted the idea that escape from the harsh realities of the world could be attained through poetry rather than religion.10 The Hellenistic philosophical roots of symbolism reappeared when these poets used the symbol to express ‘correspondences’ (or parallels) between heaven and earth, between the concrete and ideal.11 Peyre describes the Symbolist Movement as a latent form of Platonism through which poets used symbolism to express their desire for an ideal world.12 However, a lack of theoretical cohesion existed in the Symbolist Movement, as noted by Peyre: The almost inevitable and disillusioned conclusion of every investigation undertaken after the event on any collection of literary talents that have been casually called classicism, impressionism, or symbolism is that there was neither a common doctrine nor a clearly perceived goal or even any technique around which agreement might have been achieved.13

This lack of theoretical agreement continues today, as evidenced in the diverse theories of symbol available; with particular research goals and techniques in mind, scholars develop their own concepts of symbolism. The application of contemporary theories of symbol to ancient texts like the Gospel of John requires delicate skill, primarily because ancient literary conventions are either unknown or different from modern literary conventions. If applied indiscriminately, contemporary literary theory could hinder rather than advance accurate interpretation of ancient texts. Modern theoretical principles, however, do contribute to a general understanding of the structure and function of symbols in biblical narratives. 9. Abrams, Glossary of Literary Terms, 209. 10. Charles Chadwick, Symbolism (London: Methuen & Co., 1971), 3. 11. Peyre, What Is Symbolism?, 10. 12. Ibid., 13. The Symbolist movement occurred from about 1850 to 1920. Ibid., 52. According to Brittan, the Symbolists, like Plato, viewed the physical world as a shadow of the ideal; they believed they could lead people into the ideal world through symbolic poetry. Brittan also notes the irony in the fact that the Symbolist poets followed Plato, who proposed to banish artists, including poets, from his Ideal Republic. Brittan, Poetry, Symbol, and Allegory, 5. Contemporary literary theorists C. K. Ogden and I. A. Richards describe the Symbolists as poets who revolted against all forms of literal and descriptive writing and attached symbolic meanings to particular objects, words and sounds. Ogden and Richards, The Meaning of Meaning, v. 13. Peyre, What Is Symbolism? 128.

1

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Interpreters of biblical texts, therefore, need to be judicious in their selection of contemporary theoretical principles they intend to apply to symbolic narratives. Modern theories of symbol can help explain the following: (1) how symbols function in the text, (2) the similarities, differences, and overlapping functions of ¿gures of speech, (3) the symbolic meanings authors intend their readers to comprehend, (4) the intellectual dexterity required of readers to grasp the author’s symbolic meaning, and (5) guidelines for the interpretation of symbols. Urban and Ricoeur’s theories of symbol comprise philosophical, linguistic, and religious principles that offer deep insight into the multi-faceted nature of symbols. The following review examines theoretical principles from the interdisciplinary methods of these two theorists that will facilitate the formation of a theory of symbolism for this research. 2.3. Urban’s Theory of Symbol The driving concern behind the theory of symbol proposed by Urban in his book Language and Reality: The Philosophy of Language and the Principles of Symbolism (1961), is the need to understand how language and symbols communicate reality. As expressed in its subtitle, Urban’s book is divided into two parts; the ¿rst presents a ‘philosophy of language’, which focuses on problems encountered when relating language to logic and knowledge. Urban’s philosophy of language then evolves into a philosophy of symbolism.14 This review concentrates on the second half of Urban’s book, Principles of Symbolism, and examines ¿ve aspects of Urban’s theory of symbol, namely, de¿nition, classi¿cation, principles, transcendence, and interpretation. 2.3.1. De¿nition of Symbol Urban defends the ‘traditional’ use of the term ‘symbol’ formed in the disciplines of poetry, art, and religion; according to him, the traditional concept of symbol is preferable because it centers on insight rather than literal interpretation.15 In his defense of the traditional symbol, Urban identi¿es the true function of symbols by distinguishing them from signs. Urban insists that equating symbols with signs renders the notion of 14. W. M. Urban, Language and Reality: The Philosophy of Language and the Principles of Symbolism (London: George Allan & Unwin, 1961), 46. Urban explains, ‘If the function of language is not to copy reality, but to symbolize it, it is necessary, in order to understand that function, to understand the principles of symbolism’. Ibid., 401. 15. Ibid., 403. 1

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symbols useless,16 and makes symbols merely an act of reference. Urban explains that likening symbols to signs, …divides the functions of language into two, the indicative and emotive, the symbolic function becomes identi¿ed with the sign function, and those aspects of the notion which were central in the traditional conception, namely, non-literal but intuitive representation, are denied part in the symbolic function.17

Symbols are not merely indicative, but are bound to the intuitive and cannot be separated from it.18 Signs, on the other hand, are primarily operational and possess a non-intuitive relation to the object for which they stand.19 Although Urban describes the symbol as the indirect representation of a concept through intuition,20 he does de¿ne symbol as ‘a special kind of sign’.21 However, the symbol goes beyond the operational signi¿cation of signs, and functions at a deeper level—that of knowledge and perception. In sum, Urban views the symbol as bearing a dual functionality— indicative and intuitive; his understanding of the symbol, while it may begin with the basic idea of cognitive representation (sign), advances to the idea of a non-literal, intuitive representation (symbol). 2.3.2. Classi¿cation of Symbols Urban classi¿es symbols into three: (1) extrinsic, (2) intrinsic, and (3) insight.22 Extrinsic symbols act primarily as substitutes, that is, as 16. Ibid. However, Urban does recognize a connection between symbols and signs: ‘Signs may become symbols and symbols may, so to speak, degenerate into signs. Some distinction must, however, be made, otherwise the entire notion of symbolism becomes meaningless. All symbols, we may say, are signs, but not all signs symbols.’ Ibid., 407. 17. Urban explains further, ‘Under the inÀuence of mathematics and “symbolic” logic, a notion of the symbolizing function has arisen which has introduced great confusion into the entire discussion, and has brought about an almost complete reversal of the traditional notion. This reversal appears at two points: (a) in the tendency to identify symbol with sign, and (b) the denial of the “intuitive” character of the symbol.’ Ibid., 403. 18. Ibid., 408. 19. Ibid., 403. 20. Ibid., 413. 21. Ibid., 407. 22. Urban’s classi¿cation is taken from H. F. Dunbar’s Symbolism in Mediaeval Thought (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1929). Although Dunbar’s book is a study of mediaeval symbolism in Dante’s Divine Comedy, it is valuable for the general study of symbolism. 1

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designator signs that merely draw attention to their referents.23 Intrinsic symbols are related to their referents because they contain enough similarity to make an analogous predication.24 The insight symbol is the ‘gateway into something and beyond’;25 it enables writers to communicate what would not otherwise be adequately expressed or understood.26 According to Urban, The very heart of religious language, as we shall see, is the insight symbol. The notion of God as father is not merely a descriptive symbol, but one by means of which we are given not only pictorial knowledge about, but actual insight into the nature of spiritual relations.27

Urban’s three-tier categorization of symbols begins with the simple substitutional extrinsic sign that has no intrinsic connection to its object and does not give a true or total knowledge of what it represents. Positioned midway is the intrinsic symbol that contains enough similarity to enable it to function as a representation. Finally, positioned in the highest tier, is the insight symbol, which does not merely represent, but rather serves to give insight into symbolic reality. Urban’s ‘insight symbol’ fully expresses the intrinsic nature of symbolism. 2.3.3. Principles of Symbolism Urban outlines four principles that undergird his theory of symbol. These principles express general truths about the nature and function of symbols, describe the role symbols play in human thought and communication, and guide the interpretation and evaluation of symbols.28 The ¿rst principle states: Every symbol stands for something; the symbol has an unexpressed reference beyond itself.29 This principle identi¿es the representational nature of symbols. According to Urban, interpreting a symbol is tantamount to developing the unexpressed reference of a symbol.30 The underlying assumption behind this principle is that thought and language determine the unknown by the known, and so the general movement of 23. An example is signs used in mathematics, which are pronominal. Urban, Language and Reality, 407. 24. Ibid., 414–15. 25. Ibid., 415. 26. Ibid., 440–41. 27. Ibid., 416 (emphasis mine). Here, Urban’s explanation of the nature of symbols is important for this study’s examination of the SFR in light of Johannine symbolism. Urban goes on to explain that the object of religious symbols, which mostly operate as insight symbols, is not to predict but to understand. Ibid., 440–41. 28. Ibid., 421. 29. Ibid., 422–23. 30. Ibid. 1

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language is from the physical to the spiritual.31 This principle, therefore, af¿rms that symbolic language can communicate both physical and nonphysical realities. The second principle is a brief expansion of the ¿rst, and simply states: Every symbol has a dual reference. The dual reference comprises the original object (the symbol) and the object for which it now stands (the referent).32 The third principle states: Every symbol contains both truth and ¿ction.33 Truth in the symbol is the reality of what is unexpressed in the narrative. Fiction is the misrepresentation that occurs when the symbol is taken literally, that is, when it is interpreted without intuitive reference to its object.34 According to Urban, two types of misinterpretation exist; the ¿rst occurs when interpretation terminates at the literal meaning. The second type, which does not lead to truth or reality, arises when no reference is made to the intuitive character of the symbol.35 Urban’s fourth principle is that of dual adequacy, and states: A symbol may be adequate as a representation of the object.36 Total representation is not always assured in every symbol, and so a second adequacy is required for what is incommunicable, but which the symbol seeks to express.37 The second adequacy is found in the realm of human consciousness or the intuitive realm. Urban explains that unless this principle is recognized, the symbol of God as a Father, for example, is contradictory and unintelligible.38 If the inexpressible nature of God embedded in a particular symbol cannot be adequately expressed, then a second adequacy is required from the interpreter of the symbol. The principle of dual adequacy implies that proper understanding of certain symbols requires the interpreter’s intuitive insight. The ¿rst of Urban’s three principles identi¿es the semantic trait of symbols and emphasizes that the symbol stands for something not 31. Ibid., 427. 32. Ibid., 423. 33. Ibid., 424. 34. Ibid. For example, the statements ‘Napoleon is a wolf’ and ‘the State is a living body’ are false when taken literally, but when understood in a symbolic sense become true. Ibid., 433. 35. Ibid., 425. 36. Ibid. 37. Ibid., 441. 38. Ibid., 425. The contradiction in this example lies in the seemingly incomprehensible idea of a transcendent divine being begetting human children. Intuition is, therefore, needed to comprehend the nature of God that this symbol is unable to express fully. 1

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explicitly stated in the text. The second principle reveals the representative nature of the symbol, that which represents and expresses the reality of its unexpressed object. The third principle highlights the danger of symbolic interpretation that does not move beyond the literal representation of the symbol. Finally, the fourth principle moves symbolic interpretation beyond the semantic range of linguistics into the intuitive realm. This fourth principle leads into Urban’s theory of transcendent symbols. 2.3.4. Theory of Transcendent Symbols Urban’s theory of transcendent symbols begins with his division of symbol theories into two broad categories he refers to as naturalistic and transcendental.39 Naturalistic theories search for symbolic meaning outside the symbol, whereas transcendental theories discover meaning within the symbol. Urban critiques the naturalistic theory of symbol on the basis that it is reductive, not expansive in interpretation;40 the theory does not explain the symbol in terms of the reality expressed in the symbol. The symbol is thereby reduced and limited to no more than an object of external value, with no intrinsic signi¿cance. In addition, the naturalistic theory does not recognize that the function of the symbol is universal, and that the symbol inherently contains knowledge.41 Rather than looking to the symbol itself to communicate truth, the naturalistic theoretical approach to symbolic interpretation is causal,42 that is, the symbol is interpreted by inquiry into the reason for its existence, and a search for its effects on those who encounter it. By comparison, the transcendental theory of symbol always develops and interprets the symbol in terms of the reality meant, making interpretation prospective and progressive.43 Unlike the negative approach of the naturalistic theory, according to Urban, the positive approach of the transcendental theory assumes that symbolic objects in space and time have signi¿cance beyond themselves.44 The transcendental theory interprets the symbol in terms of the object itself, not by the cause of the object.45 Transcendental interpretation entails developing the meaning of 39. Ibid., 447. 40. Ibid., 447–48. 41. Ibid., 450. 42. Ibid., 447. 43. Ibid., 447–48. 44. Urban’s transcendental theory is based on the classical theory of symbolism that began with Plato, who believed the phenomenal world is an expression of the intelligible world. Ibid., 448, 450. 45. Ibid., 450. 1

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the unexpressed reference of the symbol.46 For Urban, the symbol does not merely point to, but leads into, its transcendent meaning.47 In sum, Urban’s theory of transcendental symbolism emphasizes the intrinsic signi¿cance of symbols; the transcendental reality the symbol conveys is the key to symbolic interpretation. 2.3.5. Guidelines for Interpreting Symbols Urban emphasizes the necessity of distinguishing literal from symbolic meaning; he insists that interpreters determine the ‘ontological signi¿cance’ of the symbol, that is, discover the reality expressed in the symbol.48 Urban’s idea of symbolic interpretation is that symbols are ‘concentrates of meaning, shorthand expressions for a manifold of ideas’.49 Symbols, because they are contractions of the unexpressed reference, require that their interpretation entails the verbal expansion of these contracted meanings into expressed references.50 Urban’s ¿rst guideline for symbolic interpretation is to interpret symbols by expanding ‘symbol sentences’; expansion involves applying the ‘rule of reÀection’.51 For instance, the sentence ‘Napoleon was a wolf’ means that Napoleon was related to people as a wolf is related to sheep. ReÀection on the agricultural context of wolf and sheep is transferred into the historical context of Napoleon and his people; the expansion of the symbol sentence is the relation of these two contexts.52 Secondly, Urban recognizes that expansion of the unexpressed reference can only take place in terms of the ideal or universal relations that the symbol expresses, that is, the relation between the symbol and its referent.53 As an example, the expansion of the sentence, ‘God is the maker of heaven and earth’, connotes that this can only take place in terms appropriate to divinity.54 This means that the expansion of the symbol is more abstract than the language of the symbolic expression. Urban states that although the expansion may be abstract (as in the case of religious symbols), the expansion deepens and enriches the meaning of the symbol.55 In sum, the expansion or interpretation of the symbol entails

1

46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55.

Ibid., 448. Ibid., 415. Ibid., 428. Ibid., 429. Ibid. Ibid., 431. Ibid. Ibid., 434. Ibid. Ibid.

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discovering the reality of the symbolic expression by reÀecting on the relation between the symbol and its unexpressed object. This reÀection transposes the context of the symbol sentence onto the context of the unexpressed reference, thus giving the symbol its intrinsic meaning. 2.3.6. Summary Urban’s theory of symbol begins with the idea that language functions symbolically in order to express reality. This concept leads him to explore the functions of symbols as being both substitutional and representational. It is the intrinsic nature of symbols that gives them the ability to express non-physical or spiritual realities. Urban’s transcendental theory of symbol examines the expansive nature of symbols and their ability to convey reality. His guidelines for interpretation explain how interpreters can expand contractions in symbols in order to arrive at the intended symbolic meaning. According to Urban, perfecting the principles of language and symbolism can solve the problem of language and reality. This belief is based upon the assumption that the more richly the human spirit builds language and symbolism, the nearer it comes to ultimate meaning and reality.56 Urban’s theory of symbol is relevant to this study; ¿rst, his theory identi¿es the essence of the symbol, which is its intrinsic ability to convey the transcendent realities of the Fourth Gospel. Second, Urban’s concept of the insight symbol shows how Johannine symbols facilitate meaning by giving insight into the nature of the divine relationship between the Son and the Father as presented in the Fourth Gospel. Third, the principle of dual adequacy explains how interpreters intuitively discover the intended meaning of Johannine symbols. Finally, Urban’s theory of transcendent symbols explains the dynamics of transcendence in Johannine symbolism. 2.4. Ricoeur’s Theory of Symbol Ricoeur does not actually postulate a theory of symbol, but rather theoretical principles emerge in different phases of his philosophical works on phenomenology, religion, language, and narrative. Ricoeur’s work on symbolism was initially in response to the doubt and skepticism brought about by the Enlightenment, which resulted in the loss of belief in the sacred. One of Ricoeur’s solutions to this general disillusionment was hermeneutics—speci¿cally, the interpretation of religious symbols that have shaped humanity’s consciousness; consequently, the initial 1

56. Ibid., 451.

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stage of Ricoeur’s investigation into symbolism is rooted in the history of religion. Later his works on symbolism shift to the disciplines of linguistics, literature, and narrative. 2.4.1. Dimensions of Symbolism Ricoeur’s concept of symbolism reveals a complex structure composed of religious, anthropological, and literary dimensions. In one of his early works entitled, The Symbolism of Evil (1967), Ricoeur discusses the philosophical subject of how evil manifests itself in language, leading him to explore how symbols function in human expressions of de¿lement, sin, and guilt. Ricoeur, like Urban, compares symbols to signs; symbols are signs that communicate meaning through speech. However, because symbols have what Ricoeur refers to as ‘double intentionality’, not every sign is a symbol.57 Ricoeur outlines three dimensions of symbolism, namely, cosmic, oneiric, and poetic, which explain how humans comprehend the sacred elements of the world,58 and depict aspects of human consciousness.59 These three categories of symbols outlined by Ricoeur relate to human thought and consciousness, and the literary world. The symbols are rooted not only in human culture and psyche, but also in human interaction with the universe. Ricoeur explains that these three dimensions are not separate; rather, they all combine to form the structure of symbols.60 Cosmic symbols occur when humans comprehend the sacred in elements such as the heavens, sun, moon, waters, and vegetation.61 The reciprocal relation between cosmic symbols and human reÀection is explained by Ricoeur in the following words: ‘The symbol gives rise to thought, and thought returns to the symbol’. When reÀected upon, the meaning of the symbol is discovered in the symbol itself.62 The category of oneiric or psychic symbols is simply an extension of cosmic symbols; both represent the culture and consciousness of people,63 appear in 57. P. Ricoeur, The Symbolism of Evil (trans. E. Buchanan; Religious Perspectives 17; New York: Harper & Row, 1967), 14–15. 58. Ibid., 11. 59. Ibid., 10. 60. Ibid., 14. 61. Ibid. 62. This observation by Ricoeur is similar to Urban’s explanation of transcendent theories of symbol (see section 2.3.4 above). P. Ricoeur, ‘The Hermeneutics of Symbols and Philosophical ReÀection: I’, in The ConÀict of Interpretations: Essays in Hermeneutics (ed. J. M. Edie; trans. D. Savage; Evanston: Northwest University Press, 1974), 191–218 (288). 63. Ricoeur, Symbolism of Evil, 12–13. 1

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dreams, and are two extremes of the same expression.64 The third dimension of the symbol is poetic, which Ricoeur simply describes as a ‘welling up of language’, which is a phenomenon common in the literary world.65 2.4.2. Essence of the Symbol Ricoeur further identi¿es the structure and function of the symbol in what he refers to as the ‘essence of a symbol’.66 The ¿rst essence of the symbol is its dual intentionality; the literal intentionality of the symbol does not resemble what is signi¿ed, but rather points beyond itself to a second intentionality not given in the text.67 The second intentionality of the symbol is its opacity, which constitutes the ‘depth of the symbol’ making the meaning of the symbol inexhaustible.68 Ricoeur’s recognition of opacity in the symbol highlights the problem of ambiguity and openended meanings in symbolic interpretation. To overcome this problem, Ricoeur advises that interpreters should outline their interpretational boundaries.69 The second essence of symbols Ricoeur identi¿es is the ‘analogical bond’ between the literal and symbolic meanings, reÀected in the notion that the ¿rst (literal) meaning leads the interpreter into symbolic meaning.70 By distinguishing symbols from allegories, Ricoeur identi¿es a third essence of symbols. Ricoeur explains that allegory works by translation; once the translation is achieved the allegory becomes useless and is dropped. On the other hand, the meaning of the symbol is not derived by translation; rather, it ‘evokes its meaning’.71 This evocative power makes the symbol an experiential and enduring ¿gure of speech. Ricoeur’s fourth essence of the symbol is its ‘function of absence’ and ‘function of presence’.72 Absence in the symbol is the manner in which the symbol signi¿es ‘vacuously’, that is, the symbol signi¿es without direct substitution. Presence is the symbol’s ability to signify something in existence,73 but not expressed in the text. These two functions reveal the 64. Ibid. 65. Ibid., 13. 66. Ibid., 14 67. Ibid., 15. 68. Ibid. 69. Ricoeur advises, ‘In a variety of ways symbolic activity lacks autonomy… It is the task of many disciplines to reveal the lines that attach the symbolic function to this or that non-symbolic or pre-linguistic activity.’ Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory, 58. 70. Ricoeur, Symbolism of Evil, 15. 71. Ibid., 16. 72. Ibid., 17. 73. Ibid. 1

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complex yet complimentary elements of symbols. The ¿fth and ¿nal essence of the symbol, which Ricoeur identi¿es as a core element, entails a comparison between myth and symbol. Ricoeur believes that while myths evolve in narrations through time, symbols are formed spontaneously and are of immediate signi¿cance.74 In sum, Ricoeur’s initial theoretical work on symbolism begins with human thought and consciousness. His identi¿cation of the essence of symbols emphasizes signi¿cant characteristics such as ambiguity (opacity), analogy, evocation, and immediacy. Ricoeur shows how symbols, as a powerful means of human expression of the sacred, function both intuitively and semantically. The next stage of Ricoeur’s study of symbols shifts to the disciplines of language and narrative. 2.4.3. Resistance and Assimilation in the Non-Semantic Structure of the Symbol Ricoeur explains that his study, Interpretation Theory: Discourse and the Surplus of Meaning (1967), stems from the problem of how to handle the ‘surplus of meaning’ in literary works, particularly the problem of noncognitive signi¿cations in metaphors and symbols. Ricoeur’s view is shaped by the belief that symbols contain both semantic and non-semantic elements.75 Ricoeur ¿rst develops a theory of metaphor which leads to his theory of symbol.76 The complexity of symbols leads Ricoeur to explain symbols in the light of metaphors;77 he then uses his observations on metaphors to explain how symbols operate. Ricoeur begins with an understanding that metaphor is the result of tension between two terms, the vehicle and tenor.78 The differences and resemblances between the vehicle and tenor of metaphors give rise to tension from which ‘a new 74. According to Ricoeur, for example, ‘Exile is a primary symbol of human alienation, but the history of the expulsion of Adam and Eve from Paradise is a mythical narration’. Ibid., 18. 75. Ibid., 45. 76. One of Ricoeur’s main criticisms of the Aristotelian concept of metaphor is that it implies the words in the metaphor are to be taken in isolation from one another. Thus, Ricoeur’s theory of metaphor takes into consideration the entire sentence in which the metaphor appears and, according to him, ‘a new signi¿cation emerges, which embraces the whole sentence’. Ibid., 47–48. 77. The two complexities Ricoeur notes are: (1) symbols belong to too many and too diverse ¿elds of research, and (2) symbols bring two dimensions together (linguistic and non-linguistic). Ibid., 53–54. 78. Ibid., 50. Ricoeur’s ‘tension theory’ comprises three levels of tension between the following elements: (1) tenor and vehicle, (2) literal and metaphorical interpretation, and (3) similarity and difference in the copula. Ricoeur, The Rule of Metaphor, 247. 1

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vision of reality springs forth’;79 the metaphor, therefore, reveals new information about reality.80 It is at this juncture of his theory of metaphor where Ricoeur transitions into a discussion on symbolism, using his tension theory to identify the non-semantic component of the symbol.81 According to Ricoeur, the symbol has both linguistic and non-linguistic dimensions; the linguistic dimension leads to the non-linguistic.82 The linguistic (semantic) character of the symbol is what transmits meaning into a conceptual language.83 The surplus of meaning in a symbol is, however, attested to because the meaning of the symbol cannot be fully expressed in conceptual language.84 The non-linguistic element of the symbol resists linguistic or semantic transcription.85 Resistance occurs because symbols are rooted in individual or communal experiences that are open to different methods of investigation.86 Ricoeur describes this resistant element in symbols as ‘powerful, ef¿cacious, and forceful’.87 After identifying the element of resistance, Ricoeur then moves on to address the element of assimilation that exists in symbols. Ricoeur’s principle of assimilation shows how semantic and nonsemantic elements of the symbol work together and are, therefore, inseparable. In explaining the element of assimilation, Ricoeur refers to a ‘double meaning’ in the symbol, which he explains as follows: ‘The symbol has a double meaning or a ¿rst and a second order meaning. The symbol brings together two universes of discourse, one linguistic and the other of a non-linguistic.’88 Ricoeur describes these two meanings as a single movement in which the interpreter is transferred from the linguistic level and assimilated into the non-linguistic level; the sole 79. Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory, 68. 80. Ibid., 52. 81. Ricoeur explains, ‘The relation between the literal meaning and the ¿gurative meaning of a metaphorical utterance provides an appropriate guideline which will allow us to identify the properly semantic traits of a symbol’. Ibid., 54. 82. Ibid. 83. Ibid. 84. Ibid., 57. 85. Ibid. According to Ricoeur’s theory of metaphor, ‘The metaphorical twist, which our words must undergo in response to the semantic impertinence at the level of the entire sentence, can be taken as the model for the extension of meaning operative in every symbol’. Ibid., 55. 86. Thus, according to Ricoeur, it is the task of various disciplines to reveal how the symbolic function is connected to these experiences or ‘pre-linguistic’ activities. Ibid., 57–58. 87. Ibid., 63. 88. Ibid., 53–54. In Symbolism of Evil, Ricoeur referred to this double meaning as ‘double intentionality’; see Ricoeur, Symbolism of Evil, 15.

1

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means of access to the second meaning (non-linguistic) is via the ¿rst (linguistic).89 Ricoeur’s earlier work, Symbolism of Evil, also explains assimilation in the following words: ‘The symbol is the movement of the primary meaning which makes us participate in the latent meaning and thus assimilates us to that which is symbolized without our being able to master the similitude intellectually’.90 In the course of interpretation, according to Ricoeur, the interpreter of the symbol is assimilated into the symbolic process.91 Ricoeur further explains his concept of assimilation by describing the interplay between similarity and dissimilarity in the symbol, that is, the correspondence or lack thereof between the symbol and its referent. According to him, the interplay results in a ‘conÀict between some prior categorization of reality and a new one just being born’.92 In this conÀict, the symbol assimilates rather than apprehends the similarity, which cannot be clearly articulated on a logical level.93 In other words, the symbol incorporates the inexpressible aspects of its referent. 2.4.4. Summary Ricoeur’s study of religious symbolism explains the role of human culture, consciousness, and experience in symbolic interpretation. His description of four essences of the symbol reveals different levels of symbolic operation on the semantic level, which leads to his exposition on the non-semantic dynamics of the symbol, and its powers of resistance and assimilation. Ricoeur’s theory of metaphor sets the stage for his explanation of the non-semantic elements of the symbol. He shows how the semantic part of the symbol cannot be bound by linguistics because it goes beyond verbal signi¿cation. Ricoeur’s ‘non-semantic moment’ points to the transcendent element in symbols. Symbols transcend linguistic, literary, and narrative boundaries by semantically resisting these boundaries; this enables symbols to surpass the ability of metaphors to express deep human thoughts and experiences. Ricoeur’s theory also reveals that transition into symbolic meaning cannot be smooth because full meaning is not attained just by use of logical comprehension of correspondences between a symbol and its referent. The symbol absorbs certain aspects of its referent, which produces new

1

89. 90. 91. 92. 93.

Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory, 56. Ricoeur, Symbolism of Evil, 16. Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory, 56. Ibid. Ibid.

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information and insight into symbolic meaning. The discovery of symbolic meaning requires intuitiveness and inner perception, by which the interpreter is assimilated into the symbolic process. Aspects of Ricoeur’s theory of symbol will assist in formulating the theory of Johannine symbolism to be used in this study. First, his idea of cosmic, oneiric (psychic), and poetic symbols helps explain the sociocultural background of Johannine symbols. Second, one of the characteristics of the symbol identi¿ed by Ricoeur is its evocative power; this could help explain the repetitive nature of the symbols in John’s Gospel. Third, the resistance of the symbol identi¿ed in Ricoeur’s non-semantic analysis describes the ability of Johannine symbols to transcend the text and pull other ¿gures of speech such as metaphors and imageries along with it. Finally, the principle of assimilation, which draws readers into the transcendent dimensions of symbolism, is important in explaining the Gospel’s theological agenda; in the process of interpreting the Gospel’s symbols, readers may be drawn into the transforming reality of Johannine symbols. 2.5. Similarities between Urban and Ricoeur’s Theories of Symbol The theories of symbolism propounded by Urban and Ricoeur are extensive and multifaceted. Both symbolists adopt philosophical approaches that explore the profundity of symbols in the areas of religious conceptualization, phenomenology of the sacred, as well as the role of human thought and consciousness; their theories also examine the operation of symbols in literature, linguistics, and narrative. Urban and Ricoeur view symbols as literary, cognitive representations similar to signs; they both point out that the main difference between symbols and signs is in the symbol’s ‘unexpressed reference’ (Urban) or its ‘surplus of meaning’ (Ricoeur). Urban and Ricoeur also observe that symbols function on two levels—linguistic and non-linguistic; they both emphasize the pervading power of symbols by articulating how they function inside and outside the text, thereby communicating meaning and reality through their transcendent nature. Urban’s ‘dual adequacy’ and Ricoeur’s ‘semantic/nonsemantic moment’ both express the idea that the symbol is ¿rst revealed in the text before it transcends the text. Urban and Ricoeur also explain the role of human participation in symbolic interpretation; Urban’s discussion on the necessity of insight and intuitiveness in understanding symbols, as well as Ricoeur’s theory of assimilation, explain how the interpreter participates in the symbolic process. According to these two theorists, the symbol gives sight, leads, and draws the interpreter into an assimilative process; thus, the interpreter is more than an objective, 1

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rational, analytical observer. Symbolism is more than a literary phenomenon; when used in narratives, they reÀect the worldview of the writer. Interpreters, therefore, arrive at symbolic meaning through intuitive theological, philosophical, or socio-cultural analysis. The principles postulated by Urban and Ricoeur delve into the conceptualization and interpretation of transcendent symbols;94 it is for this reason that their theories have been selected as theoretical models for this study. The de¿nition and theory of symbol for this study emphasizes the transcendent nature of symbols. The principles propounded by both symbolists will facilitate the development of a theory of symbolism suited to the narrative, lexicology, and theological purpose of the Johannine Gospel. 2.6. The Dominating Power of Symbols In light of the preceding analyses of Urban and Ricoeur’s theories of symbol, and with the objective of developing a theory of Johannine symbolism, this section explains why the symbol has been selected as the primary ¿gure of speech for this research. The symbols in the Gospel of John do not operate alone; they are largely connected to imageries and metaphors. The following discussion, therefore, centers on the structural and semantic connections among three main ¿gures of speech in the Gospel, namely, symbols, imageries, and metaphors. The ¿rst part of the discussion describes imageries and explains how they relate to symbols; this is followed by a similar metaphor-symbol analysis. The section concludes by explaining the dominating power of symbols over imageries and metaphors. Imagery, which is the ‘making of likenesses’,95 entails more than visualization;96 it is the use of language to represent objects, actions, feelings, thoughts, ideas, and sensory or extra-sensory experiences.97 The process 94. Some may argue that philosophical theories are not suited for the ancient Johannine text; however, the aim of this review is not to focus on complexities of philosophical thought, but rather to highlight contributions these theories make towards better understanding the innate power of the symbol. 95. J. A. Cuddon, A Dictionary of Literary Terms (New York: Doubleday, 1977), 316. Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary explains that the word ‘imagery’ is from the Latin imagin-, imago; perhaps akin to Latin imitari, ‘to imitate’. Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, 10th ed., s.v. ‘imagery’. 96. According to G. B. Caird, imagery overwhelms the imagination and locates points of a comparison. Caird, Language and Imagery of the Bible, 149–50. 97. Cuddon, Dictionary of Literary Terms, 316. The symbolist poet Baudelaire states, ‘The whole visible universe is but a storehouse of images and signs to which 1

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of an image begins with the direction of a transitive verb of ‘seeing’ towards an object; when the object is seen, the act of seeing is concretized and this act leads to an imagined picture.98 Imagery conveys meaning in pictorial form and is therefore the base of all ¿gurative language, including symbols. Imagery is a core component of symbols, forms the basis of symbols, and lends concreteness and clarity to symbolic meaning. Since imagery is a structural component of the symbol, an inherent connection exists between the two. First, images function symbolically, because in order to deepen meaning, symbols utilize images from the realm of sense perception.99 Second, symbols combine images with concepts,100 allowing authors to use symbols to project conceptual images upon readers. Frye’s de¿nition of image is: ‘a symbol in its aspect as a formal unit of art with a natural content’.101 This de¿nition views imagery as a basic form of symbols. The visualization and inward perception of imageries evoke transcendent meaning in symbols. René Wellek and Austin Warren note that if an image persistently recurs in a narrative, it becomes a symbol and may even become part of a symbolic system.102 Imageries, therefore, link with symbols to form symbolic networks. A metaphor is a ¿gure of speech that refers to an object in a semantically inappropriate way.103 With a metaphor, the literal meaning of a particular object/action is applied to a different object/action without

the imagination will give a relative place and value; it is a sort of pasture which the imagination must digest and transform’. C. Baudelaire, The Mirror of Art: Critical Studies (trans. J. Mayne; New York: Doubleday, 1956), 241. 98. Zimmermann, Christologie Der Bilder, 61. 99. Koester, Symbolism, 7. Koester’s de¿nition of image is ‘things that can be perceived by the senses’. Ibid., 4. 100. Cuddon, Dictionary of Literary Terms, 655. Urban states that the essential character of all symbolism is that images or ideas are used as expressions. Urban, Language and Reality, 450. Wesley Kort notes that although the category of image is broader than symbol, not all images are symbols. W. Kort, Narrative Elements and Religious Meaning (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975), 9. 101. Frye, Anatomy of Criticism, 366 (emphasis mine). 102. R. Wellek and A. Warren, Theory of Literature (3rd ed.; New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1970), 189. 103. Harris, Dictionary of Concepts, 222. ¼Ì¸ÎÇÉŠ (from ļ̊, ‘beyond’ or ‘over’, and ΚɼÀÅ, ‘to carry’), means ‘transference’, thus, ‘carrying over or across’. Bullinger, Figures of Speech, 735. Wheelwright explains similarly that a ‘semantic motion’ is implicit in the word ‘metaphor’; the motion (phora) consists of outreaching and combining. Philip Wheelwright, Metaphor and Reality (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1973), 71–72. 1

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asserting a comparison,104 as in the statement ‘life is a journey’.105 The objects in a metaphor are literal and the ¿guration lies in the copula ‘is’.106 Although symbols and metaphors are distinct, both work closely together in narratives. The main distinction between symbols and metaphors is their basic structures. The metaphor has two components— vehicle and tenor; both are clearly represented in the text. The symbol consists only of the vehicle; its referent is outside the text, which enables the symbol to transcend the limitations of the text.107 A close and complex relation exists between symbols and metaphors, both are representational—they point to and represent something beyond themselves. Since they both signi¿cantly change the use and meaning of familiar or ordinary words, these two ¿gures of speech are often viewed similarly. Some scholars view symbol as a strong form of metaphor.108 According to Urban, the character of all symbols is that they are, in their original sense, metaphors.109 Just as Wellek and Warren explain the connection between imagery and symbol,110 likewise Philip Wheelwright states that a metaphor becomes symbolic only when it recurs.111 Ricoeur describes two main similarities between symbol and metaphor. First, the ‘semantic impertinence’ of the metaphor is similar to the ‘extension of meaning’ in symbols.112 Second, the work of resemblance in symbols is also present in metaphors.113 According to Ricoeur, the metaphor not 104. Abrams, Glossary of Literary Terms, 67. 105. A simile, on the other hand, would read: ‘Life is like a journey’. Bullinger explains: the metaphor, owing to some association or connection with object expressed, declares that one thing is the other. Bullinger, Figures of Speech, 735. 106. Ibid., 735. Bullinger’s description is echoed by Ricoeur: ‘The “place” of metaphor, its most intimate and ultimate abode, is neither the name, nor the sentence, nor even discourse, but the copula of the verb to be’. Ricoeur, Rule of Metaphor, 7. 107. Ricoeur, ConÀict of Interpretation, 57. 108. Metaphor is also described as the ¿rst degree of the symbol. Harris, Dictionary of Concepts, 399, 402. Pierre Grelot describes the symbol as ‘a kind of developed metaphor’. P. Grelot, The Language of Symbolism: Biblical Theology, Semantics, and Exegesis (trans. C. R. Smith; Peabody: Hendrickson, 2006), 18. Similarly, Wead explains the symbol is the ¿nal or solidi¿ed step of the metaphorical process. Wead, Literary Devices, 73–74. 109. Urban, Language and Reality, 429. 110. See p. 49, above. 111. P. Wheelwright, Metaphor and Reality (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1962), 93. 112. Semantic impertinence is the absurdity that occurs when attempt is made to interpret, literally, a metaphorical utterance. Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory, 50. 113. Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory, 55–56. McGaughey also points out similarities between symbol and metaphor, some of which are as follows: (1) metaphor 1

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only expresses what is implicit in the symbol, it clari¿es what is confusing in the symbol; metaphors are ‘the linguistic surface of symbols’.114 Ricoeur’s analysis reveals the intricate relation between metaphor and symbol. In the symbol/metaphor interplay, metaphors are drawn into symbolic systems where they function symbolically and contribute to symbolic meaning in narratives. Imageries, metaphors, and symbols semantically associate with one another in narratives. While structural similarities exist among the three ¿gures of speech, the symbol appears to be the most powerful. First, the profound power of the symbol is evident in its inability to be contained by narratives.115 The unspoken potential of symbols is always discovered outside the semantic con¿nes of narratives. The symbol’s ability to create meaning inside the text by operating outside the text, gives it literary and narrative potency. The symbol, because it is not bound by language, is able to communicate more expansively than imagery or metaphor. Second, the transcendent nature of symbols gives them a wider range of operation than imageries and metaphors, thus enabling symbols to have a stronger effect in the narrative. Symbols, by their sheer power of elevation, are able to surpass other ¿gures of speech in narratives and draw them into symbolic systems. This strong inÀuence of symbols imparts symbolic overtones onto imageries and metaphors, causing them to function symbolically. When imageries and metaphors function within a symbolic narrative, the possibility exists for symbols to overshadow and extend the meaning of imageries and metaphors outside the semantic range of the text. Third, symbols are generally regarded as more central to the meaning of a work and are, therefore, viewed as the stronger ¿gures of speech.116 This factor gives the symbol a greater force and dominance in narratives. The structure and function of transcendent symbols make the symbol sui generis among other ¿gures of speech. Roman Jakobson states that the dominant element in a literary work is the focusing component that rules, determines, transforms the remaining components, and guarantees the integrity of the narrative structure. and symbol both involve understanding and experience, (2) metaphor and symbol serve as a shock to make readers think more, (3) symbols function like metaphors but at the level of the narrative rather than of the sentence, and (4) symbols have the same tensions as metaphors—tensions between tenor and vehicle, and between literal and ¿gurative interpretation. McGaughey, ‘Ricoeur’s Metaphor and Narrative Theories’, 415–32. 114. Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory, 69. 115. McGaughey, ‘Ricoeur’s Metaphor and Narrative Theories’, 432. 116. Harris, Dictionary of Concepts, 402. 1

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According to Jakobson, ‘The dominant speci¿es the work…dominates the entire structure and thus acts as its mandatory and inalienable constituent, dominating all the remaining elements and exerting direct inÀuence upon them’.117 Jakobson’s observation of narrative components aptly describes the operation of symbols in the Johannine narrative, where symbols not only dominate the entire Gospel, but also inÀuence and transform the function of imageries and metaphors. Imageries and metaphors in the Johannine narrative function effectively because of the transcendent power of symbols. The transcendent nature of Johannine symbolism gives it an innate ability to ascend the text, inÀuence imageries and metaphors, and draw them into the Gospel’s symbolic network. 2.7. The Need for a Theory of Johannine Symbolism With the existence of theories of symbol available from other disciplines, some may question the need for a specialized theory for the Gospel of John. The answer is that general theories of symbol are useful for identifying components of the symbol, explaining how symbols function, and providing guidelines for symbolic interpretation. However, because of their generally broad spectra, these theories are unable to accommodate particularities and peculiarities of individual texts, especially biblical texts with distinct theological perspectives, as in the Gospel of John. Literary and religious theories of symbol are not ‘one-size-¿ts-all’. The symbolic interpretation of a literary-theological text must take into account a number of pertinent factors, such as the following: (1) the author’s purpose(s), which may dictate narrative style and structure, (2) the socio-cultural background and provenance of both author and initial readers, which reveal origins of symbolic expressions, and (3) historical and narrative contexts of individual symbols, which explain how symbols are used and expanded within a text. A carefully formulated theory of symbol suited to the dynamics of an individual text enables readers to bring the aforementioned variables into an interpretative strategy. The importance of considering the literary and ideological setting of symbols is reÀected in the following advice given by Hinderer: It should be the task of the interpretation of the symbol, I repeat, to analyze the ¿eld of the symbol of the respective work of art in the ¿eld of language and to show the manifold associations…An interpretation which 117. R. Jakobson, ‘The Dominant’, in Language in Literature (ed. K. Pomorska and S. Rudy; Cambridge, MA: Belknap, 1987), 41–46 (41). Roman Jakobson is a Russian Formalist who identi¿es ‘the dominant’ as one of the main characteristics of Russian Formalist literature.

1

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53

wants to approach especially the themes and intellectual tendencies of a work of art, must seek a way through the analysis of style and symbol. The material of the symbol as such is structured, organized, and polarized within the organism of the linguistic work of art. For that reason the analysis of the symbol must be joined by the analysis of the motif, subject-matter, and style.118

The interpretative strategy for this study is facilitated by a specialized theory that is adapted to the literary and theological features of the Johannine narrative. The theories of symbol propounded by Urban and Ricoeur will serve as main springboards for developing this specialized theory. With the goal of contributing to the ongoing effort in resolving the complexities of Johannine symbolism, the proposed theory will offer insight into the nature, pattern, and interpretation of symbols in the Gospel narrative. Having laid a theoretical foundation that explains the structure and function of symbols in general, the following chapter will explain in detail the working de¿nitions which have been formulated for this study, and outline the theory of Johannine symbolism.

118. Hinderer, ‘Theory, Conception, and Interpretation of the Symbol’, 98 (emphases mine). 1

Chapter 3

THEORY OF JOHANNINE SYMBOLISM

3.1. Introduction John’s symbolic narrative is the consequence of careful theological contemplation of Jesus Christ in context of his relationship with God the Father. The theological authorial intent expressed in 20.31 is unmistakable—that hearer-readers believe in Jesus the Son of God, and thereby experience eternal life.1 John’s systematic unveiling of Christ as the Son of God has been achieved by means of a persuasive, symbolic narrative.2 If John were to reveal a theory of symbolism that may undergird the Gospel narrative, what would it entail? What concepts would underpin the theory? Would the all-pervading SFR feature in his symbolic strategy? If so, what role would the SFR play? This chapter aims to answer these questions and in doing so show how the SFR is a crucial key for understanding John’s symbolic strategy. The chapter will outline a proposed theory of Johannine symbolism that will serve as a theoretical framework for unveiling John’s Christological Symbology. The following section of this chapter explains the working de¿nitions specially formulated for use in this study. Section 3.3 outlines four principles comprising the theory of Johannine symbolism, namely, representation, assimilation, association, and transcendence. The chapter concludes with a summary in section 3.4. 1. The idea of authorial intent in the use of symbolism is explained by Hinderer, who states that the process of symbol-formation depends on the personal point of view, the world view, style, personal interests, and intentions of the author. Hinderer, ‘Theory, Conception, and Interpretation’, 97. In this study, ‘hearer-reader’ and ‘audience’ are used interchangeably as collective terms for Jesus’ immediate audience and/or recipients of the Gospel for all time. 2. See Luke Timothy Johnson who observes that John’s Gospel is ‘stylistically simple yet symbolically dense’; he also states that almost everything in the Gospel, including names and numbers, have symbolic value. Luke Timothy Johnson, The Writings of the New Testament: An Interpretation (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1999), 532.

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3.2. Working De¿nitions: Symbol, Symbology, and Symbolic Language 3.2.1. Symbol De¿ning the term ‘symbol’ is the ¿rst step in developing a theory of symbol; a clear de¿nition of the word is necessary, due to the existing numerous and varied de¿nitions.3 As noted in Chapter 1 of this study, de¿nitions reÀect different foci of study.4 The de¿nition of symbol applied in this study is based, ¿rst, on the literary-narrative setting within which Johannine symbols emerge, and secondly, on the author’s theological intent. The de¿nition is as follows: A ¿gure of speech that embodies certain characteristics of its literal meaning, and leads to a transcendent meaning that is signi¿cant within its narrative context and transformative in its theological purpose. The following paragraphs use the symbol of light in chs. 8 and 9 of the Gospel to give a detailed explanation of each segment of this de¿nition. A ¿gure of speech that embodies certain characteristics of its literal meaning: Recognition of the literary function of a symbol is the starting point for understanding its ¿gurative role within a narrative. Generally, literary symbols are verbal or written expressions pointing to or representing a person, thing, or action. The symbolic representation itself is a literal, earthly, and physical entity. Using the example of the symbol of 3. De¿nitions of the literary symbol include the following: Abrams: ‘In discussing literature…the term symbol is applied only to a word or phrase that signi¿es an object or event which in its turn signi¿es something, or has a range of reference, beyond itself’. Abrams, Glossary of Literary Terms, 206; Chadwick: ‘An attempt to penetrate beyond reality to a world of ideas’. Chadwick, Symbolism, 2–3; Harris: ‘Anything that, through convention, resemblance, or association, is recognized as representing or standing for a second thing… Language presenting images that evoke, and perhaps give insight into that which cannot be directly perceived, such as spiritual truths, transcendent patterns or things-in-themselves.’ Harris, Dictionary of Concepts in Literary Criticism’, 398; Kahler: ‘The symbol is something concrete and speci¿c that is intended to convey something spiritual or general, either as indicating a sign, i.e., an act of pointing, or as an actual representation’. Kahler, ‘The Nature of the Symbol’, 70; Vernon H. Kooy: ‘A representation, visual or conceptual, of that which is unseen and invisible…points beyond itself to reality, participates in its power, and makes intelligible its meaning…’ Vernon H. Kooy, ‘Symbol, Symbolism’, in IDB 4:472; Ricoeur: ‘Any structure of signi¿cation in which a direct, primary, literal meaning designates, in addition, another meaning which is indirect, secondary and ¿gurative and which can be apprehended only through the ¿rst’. Ricoeur, ConÀict of Interpretation, 57; Wheelwright: ‘A relatively stable and repeatable element of perceptual experience, standing for some larger meaning or set of meanings which cannot be given, nor fully given in perceptual experience itself’. Wheelwright, Metaphor and Reality, 92. 4. See section 1.4.5 in Chapter 1.

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light (previously used in Chapter 1 of this study), the symbol begins with a basic literal understanding of a physical entity that emits physical light, that is, releases visible electromagnetic radiation known to travel at the speed of about 186,281 miles per second. Literal transmitters of light include the sun, moon, stars, lightning, ¿re, and electrical lightings. Some of the characteristics or effects of light include brightness, vision, illumination, or guidance. As a ¿gure of speech, the symbol embodies or incorporates some of these characteristics of physical light, relevant to the context or use of the symbol in the narrative.5 For example, in 9.5, Jesus symbolizes the Light of the world. Based on context, hearerreaders select and apply to this symbolism appropriate characteristics of literal light such as physical vision, which is portrayed in the healing of the blind man in Jn 9. However, the application of literal light does not lead to sensible interpretation, for Jesus cannot be the physical ‘eyes or vision of the world’. The hearer-reader then looks for other characteristics of light, such as illumination or guidance, which leads to an understanding of Jesus as one who gives human beings illumination and guidance (for living). The symbol of light, although it embodies certain characteristics of physical light, such as illumination or guidance, still does not lead to the full meaning of the Johannine symbol of light. These literal characteristics embodied by the symbol are, however, a starting point for the hearer-reader who is compelled to seek for symbolic interpretation at another level in context of the larger Johannine narrative— the transcendent level of the symbol of light previously introduced in ch. 8 of the narrative. And also leads to a transcendent meaning: Interpretation of the Johannine symbol does not culminate with its literal meaning; interpretation begins with a literal meaning, but leads to a transcendent meaning, which is the intended meaning. Transcendent meaning in the Gospel of John can be described as ‘double transcendence’, that is, Johannine symbols lead to two levels of transcendent meaning, namely, semantically and Christologically. First, the symbol leads the hearer-reader to a transcendent level by semantically transcending the text; this trait is common to all literary symbols. The symbol transcends the text because its meaning is not clearly stated or explicit within the text. As noted in the example above, the symbol of light embodies characteristics such as illumination or guidance, but these do not lead to the full or intended meaning of the 5. See Urban’s comment: ‘It is precisely the nature of a symbol that it takes the primary meaning of both objects and words and modi¿es them in certain ways so that they acquire a meaning of a different kind’. Urban, Language and Reality, 405 (emphasis mine).

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symbol. In the context of the larger Johannine narrative, the symbol of light points to Jesus who illumines people with knowledge of God and guides them into eternal life and relationship with God the Father. The transcendent meaning is not clearly stated in the text of Jn 9; this absence of an explicit meaning leads to the transcendent meaning of the symbol outside the immediate text. The second aspect of double transcendence in the Johannine symbol is Christological; Johannine symbols lead to transcendent meanings, which denote transcendent attributes of Jesus, who is the referent of most of the Gospel’s symbols. In 8.12, Jesus declares, ‘I am the Light of the world. He who follows me will not walk in the darkness, but will have the Light of life’; in this verse, the symbol of light does not merely signify illumination and guidance to live in the physical world. The symbol instead takes on the qualities of spiritual light, which in the Gospel of John, leads to eternal life. As Light, therefore, Jesus is the one who gives spiritual light that leads to eternal life, which originates from his transcendent relationship with the Father. The transcendent symbol of Light functions Christologically by pointing to a transcendent aspect of Jesus within the context of his relationship with the Father. Inability of the hearer-reader to comprehend the transcendent meaning of a symbol causes the symbol to lose its dramatic effect, and weakens the effectiveness of the symbol to bring about belief in Jesus the Son sent from the Father. In sum, the symbolic representation of light leads to a realm that transcends the physical and earthly realm, pointing to a spiritual realm from which the Son originates, and in which the Father dwells. Which is signi¿cant in its narrative context: As seen in the above example of the symbol of light (Jn 8 and 9), the transcendent meaning of Johannine symbols is signi¿cant, not only from within the immediate contexts of the narratives in which they appear, but also within the larger context of the Johannine narrative. Failure to arrive at the transcendent meanings of Johannine symbols within their narrative context leads to inadequate or incomplete interpretation of the symbols when they appear or reappear. In Jn 9, Jesus declares himself Light of the world and then heals the man born blind. When the symbol of light is interpreted in the context of Jn 8, the declaration and act of giving light to the blind man signify Jesus’ mission of bringing spiritual light and life to those who believe in him. And transformative in its theological purpose: The theological aim of Johannine symbolism is not only to bring hearer-readers to belief in Jesus as the Son of God, but also to lead them into the experience of eternal life, through a relationship with the Father and the Son. Johannine

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symbolism is both theological and transformative; the symbols point to Jesus, who in turn points to the Father. In the process of interpreting transcendent symbols, the hearer-reader is compelled to move beyond a literal to a transcendent level in order to comprehend fully the import of the symbol. The symbolism of light in Jn 8 and 9 reveals Jesus as the Light, who leads hearer-readers out of spiritual darkness into the ‘Light of life’ (8.12), which is the light that originates from the eternal life indwelling the Father and Son. It is at the transcendent or intuitive level of interpretation that hearer-readers are able to believe the realities expressed in the symbol of light. The ultimate aim of the Johannine symbol, therefore, is to offer hearer-readers the transcendent and transformative experience of eternal life, through belief in the Son sent by the Father. 3.2.2. Symbology and Symbolic Language ‘Symbology’ in this research simply connotes, ‘a network of symbols’.6 The de¿nition of symbology is as follows: An overarching network comprising symbols, symbolic language, and themes connected to a common denominator that runs through a narrative. John’s Christological Symbology comprises ‘symbolic clusters’ which consist of symbols supported by symbolic language. Symbolic language is the specialized use of words including ¿gures of speech such as metaphors and imagery, or phrases and themes, which carry Christological signi¿cance and emphasize the transcendent realities within the SFR. Symbolic language is so called because it is regularly used in conjunction with Johannine symbols, giving the symbols depth and meaning.7 For example, in Jn 3 the words ÈÀÊ̼ŧÑ (3.15, 16, 18 [×3]), Êň½Ñ (3.17), and ÁÉţÅÑ/ÁÉţÊÀË (3.17, 18 [×2], 19), are viewed as symbolic language because they signify both Johannine theology and the SFR as expressed in the following sentence: The Son comes from the Father to give eternal life to those who believe; those who believe are saved from the judgment of the Father and Son. As symbolic language, the lexemes ÈÀÊ̼ŧÑ, Êň½Ñ, and ÁÉţÅÑ/ÁÉţÊÀË expand the symbol of life 6. Merriam-Webster’s three-fold de¿nition of symbology is as follows: (1) the art of expression by symbols, (2) the study or interpretation of symbols, and (3) a system of symbols. Merriam-Webster, s.v. ‘symbology’. In this study, ‘symbology’ is limited to the third de¿nition; it is the symbolic network within the Johannine text; therefore, the term ‘symbology’ is more text-bound than the term ‘symbol’. 7. Symbolic language consists of words that distinctly convey Johannine theology; these words are of Christological signi¿cance because they emphasize the Son’s mission, message, and relationship with the Father.

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by highlighting the salvi¿c mission of the Son, and his role as eschatological judge with the Father.8 Symbolic language supports and enriches Johannine symbolism and gives deeper insight into realities of the SFR that are expressed in the symbols. Symbolic themes are motifs that recur in the narrative, such as preexistence, agency, rejection/reception, and the Holy Spirit; these themes enrich Johannine symbolism and expand the Gospel’s presentation of the SFR. This study will illustrate John’s Christological Symbology in graphs or charts called symbographs. Symbographs plot the progression and narrative development of the SFR and associated symbolism. In sum, John’s Christological Symbology is the overarching network of symbols in the Gospel, which is made up of symbolic clusters comprising various interconnected symbols, symbolic language, and themes all linked to the SFR. 3.3. Theory of Johannine Symbolism A theory is a ‘coherent set of hypothetical, conceptual, and pragmatic principles forming the general frame of reference for a ¿eld of inquiry’.9 The proposed theory of symbolism will serve as the theoretical framework for this inquiry into Johannine symbolism and its connection to the SFR. Principles underlying the theory will facilitate the interpretation of Johannine symbolism in four ways. First, the principles explain how symbols function and associate with other ¿gures of speech in the Gospel. Second, they reveal the dynamics of hearer-reader participation in the interpretative process. Third, the principles set theoretical markers that delineate boundaries for interpretation. Fourth, the symbolic operations described in the theory indicate what to anticipate as the narrative unfolds. This theory does not account for every possible concept behind Johannine symbols, but rather is a theoretical model that attempts to forge an interpretative path across the complex terrain of Johannine symbolism. The four principles in the theory, which are divided into subprinciples, are as follows: (1) representation, (2) assimilation, (3) association, and (4) transcendence. 8. For example, »ţ»ÑÄÀ (‘give’) and its cognates are symbolic language because, in a special Johannine sense, they refer to the Son or Father bestowing eternal life and similar components connected to the life-giving mission of the Son. In addition, ĝ ÈšÄÐ¸Ë is symbolic language because it refers to the Johannine theology of the sending of the Son by the Father. 9. Merriam-Webster, s.v. ‘theory’ (emphasis mine).

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The Son–Father Relationship Theory of Johannine Symbolism

REPRESENTATION

ASSIMILATION

ASSOCIATION

TRANSCENDENCE

ª

ª

ª

ª

Symbolic Presentation

Pre-Semantic Assimilation

Metaphorical Association

Semantic Transcendence

ª

ª

ª

ª

Symbolic Presentation

Semantic Assimilation

Organizational Association

Dualistic Transcendence

ª

ª

ª

Symbolic ReÀection

Interpretative Assimilation

Revelatory Transcendence

ª

ª

Symbolic Resemblance

Transformative Transcendence

Figure 1. Theory of Johannine Symbolism

3.3.1. Principle One: Johannine Symbols are Representational The basic premise of a symbol is that it stands for something else; therefore, representation is a fundamental principle of this theory.10 This principle of representation is divided into the following four subprinciples: (1) presentation, (2) re-presentation, (3) reÀection, and (4) resemblance. 3.3.1.1. Symbolic Presentation. The ¿rst phase of symbolic representation is the initial presentation or appearance of a symbol in the narrative, when it ¿rst introduces a characteristic of its referent. The ¿rst appearances of most of the Gospel’s Christological symbols introduce something new about Jesus. The hearer-reader’s attention is directed to speci¿c information about Jesus, and that detail is expanded as the 10. See Kahler, who explains that representation is the ¿nal stage of the symbol after its stabilization and ¿xation. Kahler distinguishes between two kinds of representational symbols—descending and ascending. Descending symbols descend from a prior and higher reality, and describe real happenings from which humans derive symbolic meaning. For example, according to Kahler, Jesus as Messiah was for original Christianity a real, not merely a symbolic, ¿gure; Jesus’ sacri¿cial death was real and not just symbolic. Ascending symbolism, on the other hand, is not preexistent, but springs from artistic imagination. Kahler, ‘The Nature of the Symbol’, 57, 65–67. Urban explains that knowing involves representation and one form of representation is the symbolic. According to him, the concept the symbol includes literal and non-literal representation. Urban, Language and Reality, 402–403. See also Harris, Dictionary of Concepts in Literary Criticism and Theory, 398.

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narrative progresses. For example, a succession of symbolic presentations occurs in the Prologue, where vivid and evocative symbols and symbolic language introduce various aspects of Jesus (in relationship with the Father). In a panorama of symbols, the entire ¿rst chapter of the Gospel unfolds multiple presentations of Jesus. After presenting Jesus as ŦºÇË in the ¿rst verse, other presentations in Jn 1 are Light, Life, Only Begotten (Son), Lord, Lamb of God, Baptizer, Son of God, Rabbi, Messiah, King, and Son of Man. With each presentation, a new depiction of Jesus in context of the SFR is impressed upon the hearer-reader. As the narrative progresses, many of the Gospel’s initial symbolic presentations of Jesus recur as re-presentations. 3.3.1.2. Symbolic Re-Presentation. Re-presentation takes place when a symbol that has been previously introduced is presented again. Symbolic re-presentation may introduce a new dimension of an initial presentation, for example, the symbol of light presented in 1.4 is re-presented in 1.5–9. In 1.4, the symbol of light points to Jesus as co-creator with God, while in 1.5 light points to Jesus’ power over darkness. In the Baptist’s witness of 1.6–7, the symbol refers to Jesus as spiritual Light sent from God; and then in 1.9, light speaks of the illuminating or enlightening effect of Jesus upon humanity. In 1.5–9, each re-presentation of the symbol of light reveals a new dimension of Jesus’ character and mission in connection with the Father. Symbolic re-presentation may occur in actions and speeches; in Jn 6, for example, after his symbolic act of multiplying bread, Jesus declares himself the Bread of Life (6.35), and then expands upon the symbol of bread in the subsequent dispute and discussion. In addition, the indirect presentation of Jesus as Temple in 1.14 is represented in his symbolic action and speech during his cleansing of the temple in ch. 2. Re-presentation occurs in symbolic language, as in the use of ÒÈÇÊÌšÂÂÑ and ÈšÄÈÑ, which in the Gospel constantly re-present Jesus as the Son ‘sent’ from the Father. Re-presentation also occurs in the form of intertextuality, when symbols are drawn from prior cultural or theological use. Since the term ‘shepherd’ has prior symbolic usage in the Hebrew Bible, the presentation of Jesus as Shepherd in ch. 10 can be viewed as a symbolic re-presentation.11 In the Gospel of John, therefore, Jesus the Shepherd becomes a re-presentation of God the Shepherd in the Hebrew Bible. Re-presentation causes the audience or reader to reÀect on previous use of the symbol.12 11. See Pss. 23.1–2; 77.20; 78.52; 100.3; Isa. 40.10–11; 63.11. 12. The intertextual form of re-presentation is understood by hear-readers who already have knowledge of the signi¿cations generated by similar symbolism in the Hebrew Bible.

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3.3.1.3. Symbolic ReÀection. Symbolic reÀection occurs when the author presents or re-presents symbols after mentally ‘bending back’13 to retrieve knowledge that corresponds to the symbol’s referent. This knowledge may be based on experience, worldview, culture, or theology. Thus, Johannine symbols exhibit what Urban describes as ‘a common form of representation suf¿cient for the purposes of reÀection’.14 The process of symbolic reÀection is described as follows. First, the author of the Gospel reÀects and selects a particular symbol because elements in the symbol evoke a correlation with the symbol’s referent. Second, the author expects a similar and immediate response of reÀection on the symbol in the mind of the hearer-reader. Third, presentation or re-presentation of the symbol causes the reader to reÀect upon his or her knowledge of the symbol and connect some aspects of this knowledge to the referent. Johannine symbols provoke hearer-readers to bend back mentally and intuitively search for meaning. This act of reÀection may take place repeatedly before the symbolic representation is ¿nally understood. Symbolic presentation easily leads to reÀection because of the universal nature of symbols.15 Several Johannine symbols, such as life, light, bread, and water are universal symbols;16 these symbols are rooted in the theology, culture, and community of both author and audience. Johannine symbols are better understood when the theological and cosmological worldview of the original audience is taken into consideration. ReÀection on the symbol leads to the meaning of the symbol, thus, ‘the symbol gives rise to thought, and thought returns to the symbol’.17

13. The word ‘reÀection’ stems from the Latin term reÀexio, meaning ‘bending back’. 14. Urban, Language and Reality, 441. Urban refers to the ‘rule of reÀection’ in which a symbol sentence is developed by reÀecting on the context of the symbol and its referent. The context of the symbol is carried over into the context of its referent; thus, the symbol is expanded. Ibid., 432. Wheelwright states that symbols appeal to a contemplative attitude. P. Wheelwright, ‘The Archetypal Symbol’, in Strelka, ed., Perspectives in Literary Symbolism, 214–43 (214). 15. Although symbols such as light and life vary slightly from culture to culture, they are universal. Ricoeur discusses the ‘reÀective use of symbolism’ in the cosmic, psychic, and poetic dimensions of the human conscience. Ricoeur, Symbolism of Evil, 10. 16. See also Grelot, who uses the term ‘existential symbols’, which, according to him, ‘refers to cases in which various aspects of common human experience, whether in our perception of the world (the feel of the wind, light, etc) or in our interpersonal relationships, are transposed metaphorically onto the place of relationship with God’. Grelot, Language of Symbolism, 24. 17. Ricoeur, ‘Hermeneutics of Symbols’, 288.

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Symbols may evoke knowledge, experience, memory, images, emotions, likes, and dislikes; all of which are rooted in the hearerreader’s knowledge and experience. The Christological symbols in John are often so intensely evocative that some of Jesus’ Jewish audiences automatically resist the divine correspondences Johannine symbolism implies. In 6.35, for example, Jesus declares himself the ‘Bread of Life’ from heaven; his audience reÀects on the previous symbolic reference of Exod. 16, where God provided manna from heaven for the Israelites in the wilderness. Representation of Jesus as manna implies divine origin; some of his hearers are unable or unwilling to receive this symbolic connection, for they view Jesus as merely human. This reÀection on the theological implications of manna and refusal to accept it as presented by Jesus within the Gospel narrative results in misunderstanding, and leads to the ultimate rejection of Jesus by the Jewish religious authorities. In the Gospel, symbolic reÀection sometimes appears in the form of questions. For example, in the Bread of Life discourse, Jesus’ audience reÀects and questions one another regarding the divine implications of his words (6.42, 52). In Jn 4, the questions the Samaritan woman directs to Jesus reveal her reÀection on the symbol of water in light of the Samaritan tradition of Jacob and the well (4.11–12). ReÀection leads to the social, historical, and theological backgrounds of symbols and shows the strong connection between Johannine and Hebrew Bible symbolism. Symbolic reÀection relieves Johannine symbolism of abstraction, thereby grounding it in the realities of human belief and experience. ReÀection leads to resemblance; hearer-readers reÀect on the symbol to identify points of resemblance, which lead to symbolic meaning. 3.3.1.4. Symbolic Resemblance. The fourth sub-principle of symbolic presentation is resemblance. A symbol must have some form of resemblance with its referent. The work of resemblance is articulated in this study’s working de¿nition of symbol—the symbol embodies certain characteristics of its literal meaning. This ‘embodiment’ takes place when, upon reÀection, the hearer-reader discovers and selects points of resemblance that evoke correspondences between the literal meaning of the symbol and its referent. The correspondence is never exact because the symbol is not substitutional; in fact, more differences than resemblances may exist between symbol and referent. Points of resemblance are what lead to intended symbolic meaning. Resemblance brings together two distant ideas or reduces the gap between two seemingly incompatible ideas.18 18. Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory, 51. Ricoeur extensively discusses the work of resemblance in Rule of Metaphor. See Ricoeur, Rule of Metaphor, 173–200.

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This principle of symbolic resemblance consists of two levels. The ¿rst, which is logical or cognitive, occurs when hearer-readers, through logical reasoning, identify points of resemblance between a symbol and its referent. In his conversation with Nicodemus, Jesus uses the symbol of birth to communicate transcendent realities about the kingdom of God and spiritual regeneration (Jn 3). Jesus insists no one can enter the kingdom without being ‘born again/anew’. Nicodemus then looks for logical points of resemblance between natural birth and entering God’s kingdom, and he reÀects aloud, asking Jesus how it is possible for an adult to be born physically a second time. Nicodemus’s cognitive search for points of resemblance between the symbol of birth and the spiritual realities Jesus is communicating fails abysmally. In the Gospel, logical or cognitive resemblance often fails to lead to the full or intended meaning of the symbol. The act of resemblance must therefore move to a second level, the spiritual level, or what Urban refers to as the non-literal or intuitive level.19 In the Gospel, symbolic resemblance that eventually leads to symbolic meaning is rarely determined at the logical level. Discovery of similarities between Johannine symbols and their referents is usually intuitive, as an appeal is made to innate or intuitive faculties of knowledge. When Jesus’ audience fails to identify symbolic resemblances at the logical level, he leads them into the intuitive level. For example, in his encounter with Nicodemus, Jesus leads him to the intuitive level by associating the elements of water, spirit, and wind with the symbolism of birth. Jesus leads Nicodemus to make points of resemblance in 3.8: ‘The wind blows where it desires and you hear its sound, but do not know where it comes from and where goes; so is everyone who is born of the Spirit’. Consequently, the act of being ‘born again’ does not occur in the cognitive sphere of physical birth. Resemblance between the symbol of birth and entering the Kingdom of God is compared to the unknown and unseen features of the wind in motion. In sum, entrance into the Kingdom of God is an unseen, spiritual reality. Jesus, in his interaction with people, gives his audiences clues that enable them to discover symbolic meaning intuitively; since they often remain at the cognitive level, their search for symbolic resemblance sometimes leads to misunderstanding. Jesus’ audiences are often unable to identify intended points of resemblance, and therefore fail to grasp 19. Urban declares, ‘The genuinely symbolic is bound up with the intuitive and it cannot be separated from it. In so far as the symbolic in language is concerned it is found precisely in the intuitive elements in language.’ Urban, Language and Reality, 408–409.

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symbolic meaning. Symbolic representations of Jesus need to be understood intuitively, that is, with spiritual insight into his divine nature and origin. Johannine symbols express realities beyond the literal and cognitive realm; they highlight the divine realities expressed in the Sonship of Jesus and his relationship with the Father. In sum, symbolic presentation consists of (1) the ¿rst presentation and introduction of the symbol and referent, (2) re-presentation of symbol and referent for emphasis or expansion, (3) reÀection on previous symbolic presentations or usages, and (4) identi¿cation of cognitive and intuitive points of resemblance between symbol and referent. 3.3.2. Principle Two: Johannine Symbols are Products and Agents of Assimilation The second principle in this theory is assimilation. Symbolic assimilation occurs at three levels: (1) pre-semantic, (2) semantic, and (3) interpretative. 3.3.2.1. Pre-Semantic Assimilation. Assimilation ¿rst occurs in the presemantic state of the symbol because most Johannine symbols are already in existence before appearing in the text. Symbols are the result of linguistic, cultural, and/or theological assimilation; pre-semantic origins of symbols are found in the depths of human experience.20 Mircea Eliade explains that symbols diffuse through culture and human societies, sometimes far from their point of origin, and are assimilated by different peoples.21 Second, symbolic assimilation also takes place when elements of the created world merge with human activity or experience, such as the connection between burial or death and the sowing of grain.22 These symbols are not products of a single culture, but are found in different cultures separated in time and inÀuence; symbols that take on a universal nature are commonly referred to as archetypal or mythical symbols.23

20. Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory, 69. 21. M. Eliade, Images and Symbols: Studies in Religious Symbolism (trans. P. Mairet; New York: Sheed & Ward, 1969), 34. 22. Ricoeur observes that certain fundamental human experiences create symbolisms such as the notion of ‘above and below, cardinal directions, spectacle of the heavens, terrestrial localization, houses, paths, ¿re, wind, stones, or water’. Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory, 62, 65. 23. Frye describes the archetypal symbol as a symbol that helps unify and integrate human experience. Frye, Anatomy of Criticism, 99. Wheelwright’s examples of archetypal symbols include sky father, earth mother, serpent, eye of the sun, ear of grain, vine, sprouting tree, ritualistic bathing, road or path and the pilgrimage

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Many Johannine symbols are universal, such as light, darkness, bread, grain, water, life, and birth. Symbolic language, such as ŦºÇË, which spans both Hebrew and Greek cultures, has traveled through time and developed conceptually in these cultures. John’s original audience was at least tri-cultural (Jewish, Samaritan, and Greek).24 Johannine scholars agree that the Gospel’s symbols emanate from Hebraic origin;25 however, due to their universality, these symbols have also been assimilated by Greek culture. The process of assimilation makes several Johannine symbols understandable. Although set in the context of Jewish history and the tradition of the Israelite journey in the wilderness, the symbol of manna in Jn 6 resonates with a Greek audience because bread is a universal symbol representing life and sustenance.26 Investigation into along it, kingly power as blessing and threat, soaring bird, and circle or sphere. Wheelwright, ‘The Archetypal Symbol’, 222–23. Ashton identi¿es light and darkness as archetypal symbols in the Gospel of John. Ashton, Understanding the Fourth Gospel, 208. Jesus uses the archetypal symbol of death in 12.24 when he speaks of his impending death: ‘Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit’. 24. See Koester, Symbolism in the Fourth Gospel, 18–24. Koester comments, ‘The Greek-speaking world of the late ¿rst century included many different kinds of potential readers for the Fourth Gospel. Johannine imagery has af¿nities with imagery in an astonishing range of ancient sources, including the Dead Sea Scrolls and Hellenistic Jewish texts, Greco-Roman sources, and later gnostic writings’. Koester, Symbolism in the Fourth Gospel, 18. 25. According to Ashton, Johannine symbols such as Messiah, prophet, and Son of Man are ‘unquestionably Jewish provenance’ transformed to serve the purposes of the author of the Gospel. Ashton, Understanding the Fourth Gospel, 124. Johnson also comments, ‘Elements of John’s symbolic structure are present and important in the Judaism of ¿rst-century Palestine’. Johnson, Writings of the New Testament, 527. Gilbert Soo Hoo points out a difference in the manner in which Jesus uses symbolism when communicating with his general Jewish audience and his disciples. With the former, Jesus uses traditional Jewish symbols of water, light, and temple; however, with his disciples, rather than resort to Jewish tradition, Jesus performs the symbolic acts of footwashing and giving the morsel of bread. G. S. Hoo, ‘The Pedagogy of the Johannine Jesus’ (unpublished PhD diss., Catholic University of America, 2009), 248. 26. According to Dodd, images of bread and water already serve as symbols for religious conceptions. In Jewish religion bread is viewed as a symbol for Torah or Wisdom, and manna is not only Jewish, but in Philo is a symbol of the Logos. Dodd, Interpretation, 136–38. Other examples of symbols spanning Hebrew and Greek cultures are vine and shepherd. Although Dodd relates vine symbolism to the vine allegory in Ps. 80.9–15 and Jer. 2.21, he notes that Hellenistic readers of the Gospel familiar with the work of Numenius the second-century philosopher will also recognize the ¿gure of God as a vinedresser. Likewise, Koester notes that in Hebrew

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the process of assimilation of Johannine symbols reveals a rich history of symbolic tradition. Exploring the pre-semantic phase of symbolic assimilation provides a variety of social, cultural, and religious perspectives for interpretation. 3.3.2.2. Semantic Assimilation. Semantic assimilation takes place when the referent of the symbol assimilates similar characteristics of the symbol at the semantic level. The terms ‘assimilate’ and ‘similar’ are cognates; in symbolic assimilation, symbol and referent assimilate at the points of similarity. The symbol is not a literal substitute of its referent; hence, semantic assimilation can occur between alien or distant ideas.27 Distant but similar concepts of the symbol and referent are assimilated, and the assimilation connects them semantically. In 1.29, the Baptist calls Jesus the ‘Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world’. In the interpretative process of the Lamb of God symbolism, Jesus the Lamb assimilates the ‘distant idea’ of the Hebrew Passover lamb. The main point of assimilation between the two ideas is death, for Exod. 12.3–6 narrates the death of the Passover lamb. Jesus, the Lamb of God, therefore assimilates the sacri¿cial act of redemption implicated in the killing of the Hebrew Passover lamb. Jesus is a man, not a lamb; therefore, this symbolic principle is described as assimilation rather than logical comprehension; the connection is comprehended intuitively rather than rationally. Because the relation between symbol and referent is not logically articulated in the narrative, the hearer-reader comprehends symbolic meaning after the processes of reÀection, resemblance, and assimilation. 3.3.2.3. Interpretative Assimilation. Interpretative assimilation occurs when interpreters participate in symbolic assimilation by ¿rst intuitively comprehending and then experiencing the theological truth revealed in the symbol. In the Gospel of John, the aim of symbolic interpretation is transformation. The process of interpretative assimilation begins with the principle of symbolic presentation; the interpreter ¿rst encounters the symbol, then its re-presentation, which is then followed by the interpreter’s acts of reÀection and resemblance.

culture, shepherd evokes associations with Israel’s leaders and even God. Greek classics also used shepherd symbolism to refer to leaders and the art of governing people. Koester, Symbolism in the Fourth Gospel, 16. 27. P. Ricoeur, Time and Narrative (trans. K. McLaughlin and D. Pellauer; 3 vols.; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984), 1:195.

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The ¿rst level of symbolic assimilation occurs when the interpreter ¿rst comprehends the transcendent meaning of a literary symbol. The interpreter is assimilated into symbolic meaning as s/he makes a shift from literal to symbolic meaning.28 In 2.13–22, the temple symbolism is at ¿rst an alien idea; however, if the interpreter reÀects back to the temple symbolism of 1.14, s/he will understand that the symbolism connotes the visible abiding presence or glory of God. Next, in 2.21–22, the temple symbolism Àashes forward to the cruci¿xion and resurrection. The interpreter then grasps the symbolic connection; Jesus’ physical body, which was cruci¿ed and resurrected in glory, symbolizes the presence of God; therefore, Jesus himself is the temple.29 At each stage of the interpretative process there is an assimilation of symbolic meaning through gradual comprehension. John 2 also shows how symbolic assimilation can be delayed because the disciples do not immediately comprehend the temple symbolism until after the resurrection. In the Gospel narrative, the temple symbolism is partly hinted at in 1.14 and expanded in ch. 2; however, the interpreter fully comprehends and is assimilated into the symbolism via the post-resurrection narrative. Assimilation occurs with the gradual comprehension of the succession of symbolic representations in the entire narrative. As the plot progresses the hearer-reader gradually assimilates symbolic meaning by adapting, expanding, and conforming to new presentations of Jesus. The second level of assimilation occurs when the interpreter experiences the reality conveyed in the symbols. Those who accept the Gospel’s invitation to believe that Jesus is the Son of God can partake of spiritual realities expressed in Christological symbols such as birth, life, light, water, and shepherd. Schneiders describes Johannine symbols as the ‘locus of experience’.30 Symbolic presentations of Jesus call readers to enter into the truths revealed in the symbol. Jesus the Light calls his hearers to follow him so that they will no longer walk in darkness; Jesus the Living Water invites all to quench their spiritual thirst and partake of 28. Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory, 55. Ricoeur also describes assimilation thusly: By living in the ¿rst meaning (i.e. literal meaning), the interpreter is ‘led by it beyond it’ into the symbolic meaning. Ricoeur, Symbolism of Evil, 15. Ricoeur explains further, ‘The symbol is the movement of the primary meaning which makes us participate in the latent meaning and thus assimilates us to that which is symbolized without our being able to master the similitude intellectually’. Ibid., 16 (emphasis mine). 29. Jesus’ death symbolizes the ‘destruction’ or phasing out of the old temple and its religious system. After his resurrection, Jesus embodied and fully displayed the visible glory of God. 30. Schneiders, Written that You May Believe, 68.

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eternal life; and Jesus the Good Shepherd calls believers to enter into the Father’s fold by hearing and following his voice. Thus, the aim of Johannine symbolism is to assimilate hearer-readers into the realities expressed in the Gospel’s symbols, which are presented in context of the SFR. 3.3.3. Principle Three: Johannine Symbols Associate with Other Figures of Speech The principle of association explains the relation between symbols and other ¿gures of speech in the Johannine narrative. Symbolic association occurs at two levels: (1) metaphorical and (2) organizational. 3.3.3.1. Metaphorical Association. The broad symbolic system in the Johannine narrative reveals a close connection with symbols and other ¿gures of speech, particularly with metaphors.31 The absence of a referent enables symbols to ful¿l what metaphors cannot, namely, to highlight the element of transcendence that reÀects the Gospel’s theological purpose. The purpose of the narrative is to reveal Jesus the Son of God, whose life is portrayed in the earthly realm while he maintains a transcendent relationship with his heavenly Father. Metaphors cannot fully express John’s Christological purpose because metaphors are generally limited to the linguistics and lexicology of the text. Metaphors help portray Jesus within an earthly socio-cultural and historical context, while symbols reveal him in the context of his transcendent relationship with the Father.32 Therefore, the symbol-metaphor association reveals different facets of the person and ministry of Jesus. Johannine symbolism uses metaphorical statements about the Son to point to transcendent realities. For example, a socio-cultural or historical interpretation cannot adequately explain Jesus’ metaphorical statement, ‘I am the Good Shepherd’ (10.1, 14),33 because the shepherd metaphor points to or symbolizes Jesus as spiritual shepherd of the Father’s Àock of believers throughout eternity (10.16). However, the shepherd metaphor does reveal that Jesus takes on certain characteristics of a shepherd, 31. Structural and semantic connections between symbol and metaphor are outlined in section 2.6 in Chapter 2 of this study. 32. See Hylen, who makes a similar observation that symbolic readings lead to ‘transcendent reality’, while metaphorical readings do not express a preexisting reality. Hylen, Imperfect Believers, 148. 33. In the Good Shepherd Discourse, Jesus is/does the following: (1) he is the door of the sheep (10.7, 9); (2) he is the entry way to the sheepfold (10.9); (3) he lays down his life for the sheep (10.11, 15); and (4) he gives eternal life to his sheep (10.28). These are not job descriptions of a normal earthly shepherd.

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such as guidance, care, and protection (10.1–15). In the Johannine narrative, symbol-metaphor association produces wholesome interpretation, which covers both socio-historical and theological realities. The metaphor is sometimes the ¿rst stage of Johannine symbolism, as seen in the ‘I am’ statements. However, as these statements expand in ensuing discourses and symbolic actions of Jesus, they move to a symbolic level and are no longer con¿ned to the semantic or metaphorical level. At the symbolic level, metaphors become vehicles of symbolic meaning and revelation. 3.3.3.2. Organizational Association. Symbols direct, organize, and communicate.34 Johannine symbols rarely appear or reappear in the narrative alone; they draw other ¿gurations into their networks. This element of the principle of association reveals how other ¿gurative elements in the Gospel function symbolically. When symbols appear in the Johannine narrative, they are usually preceded or developed by metaphors, imagery, irony, misunderstanding, parables, proverbs, allusions, repetitions, double entendre, or rhetorical questions. The intricate association between symbols and other ¿gures of speech reveals a narrative structure in which each ¿guration facilitates symbolic meaning. The ability of the symbol to overshadow other ¿gures of speech simply means that these ¿gurations carry symbolic implications and are, therefore, drawn into the Gospel’s symbolic system. Symbols associate with other ¿gures of speech to form networks; these networks are symbolic because symbols usually occupy a central position in the networks. Symbols in networks also organize narrative elements such as theme, plot, and characterization.35 John 4 is a classic example of organizational association. The encounter with the Samaritan woman consists of several Christological revelations of Jesus; he is giver of living water and eternal life, prophet, Messiah, and the one sent from the Father. The central symbol in this passage is water; ¿gures of speech associated with this symbolic passage include the following: (1) misunderstanding reÀected in the woman’s response to Jesus’ offer of ‘living’ water (4.7–15) and the disciples 34. Ogden and Richards, Meaning of Meaning, 9. 35. See also Culpepper’s categorization of symbols, which include core symbols such as light, water, and bread, all pointing to Jesus’ revelatory role. According to Culpepper, these three symbols associate with other symbols, metaphors, and concepts, such as darkness, life, wine, and Àesh. For instance, Light associates with concepts such as lamps, ¿res, torches, lanterns, day (and night), morning, seeing, and healing the blind, which manifest in form of symbols, imagery, and metaphors. Culpepper, Anatomy, 189.

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misunderstanding of Jesus’ ‘food’ (4.31–34); (2) irony in Jesus’ response regarding the woman’s husbands (4.16–18); (3) allusions to Samaritan oral tradition about Jacob (4.12), worship (4.20), and the eschatological coming of the Messiah (4.25); and (4) imagery of harvest, laborers, reaping, and sowing (4.34–38). The appearance of each ¿guration at different stages of the narrative develops the overarching symbol of water, culminating with Jesus the Messiah-Evangelist giving the ‘water’ of salvation or eternal life to the Samaritan village. The ¿gures of speech accompanying Johannine symbols become part of the Gospel’s symbolic network and enrich the Gospel narrative. Clusters of ¿gurative language expand, explicate, and dramatize the narrative, giving theological insight into the Gospel’s symbolism. 3.3.4. Principle Four: Johannine Symbols are Transcendent The element of transcendence in the symbol distinguishes it from other ¿gures of speech; hence, it is the essence of this theory. Virtually every symbolist identi¿es transcendence as a core component of the symbol.36 Johannine symbols cannot be properly interpreted without acknowledging and understanding their transcendent nature. In this theory, transcendence operates on four levels: (1) semantic, (2) dualistic, (3) revelatory, and (4) transformative. 3.3.4.1. Semantic Transcendence. The de¿nitive meaning conveyed by the symbol is outside the linguistic and semantic boundaries of the text. Transcendence occurs when the symbol in the text joins the referent outside the text.37 Meaning moves from the semantic domain to a transsemantic domain where experience, culture, community, and theology play signi¿cant roles in symbolic interpretation. The transcendent symbol, 36. Literary and Johannine scholars who stress transcendence in symbols include the following: R. B. Gregg, Symbolic Inducement and Knowing: A Study in the Foundations of Rhetoric (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1984), vii. Cuddon, Dictionary of Literary Terms, 656; Harris, Dictionary of Concepts, 398; Koester, Symbolism, 4; Lee, Symbolic Narratives, 33; idem, Flesh and Glory, 29; Schneiders, ‘History and Symbolism in the Fourth Gospel’, 372; and P. Tillich, ‘The Religious Symbol’, in Rollo, ed., Symbolism in Religion and Literature, 75–98 (75–76). 37. See Ricoeur’s explanation of how transcendence operates in the symbol: ‘It is an unbound or liberated language that is freed from certain lexical, syntactical, and stylistic constraints. It is freed, above all, from the intended references of both ordinary and scienti¿c language, which, we may say by way of contrast, are bound by the facts, empirical objects, and logical constraints of our established ways of thinking.’ Ricoeur, Interpretation, 59.

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however, is not totally disconnected from its semantic context, which provides a measure of stability for interpretation. For example, in 10.35, the semantic meaning in the ‘bread of life’ symbolism remains attached to its transcendent meaning. The idea of literal, physical bread giving sustenance and nourishment leads to the symbol’s transcendent meaning; however, when fully interpreted, the symbolism still retains these semantic meanings. As Bread of Life, Jesus provides sustenance, for he satis¿es the spiritual hunger of those who come to him. The symbolic principle of semantic transcendence expands the scope of symbolic interpretation, while the semantic signi¿cation in the narrative acts as a safeguard against inaccurate or incongruous interpretation. 3.3.4.2. Dualistic Transcendence. The second level of symbolic interpretation is dualistic; in this principle, the term ‘dualism’ basically refers to dualistic dynamics in the SFR. Dualistic transcendence is reÀected in the Gospel’s portrayal of the Son, who comes from the heavenly realm to ful¿l an earthly mission, while still maintaining close relationship with his transcendent Father. The Gospel’s transcendent symbols express, explain, and enhance the portrayal of the relationship between Son and Father. In the narrative, the dual reference in the symbol, that is, its cognitive and non-cognitive elements, aptly conveys the physical (earthly) and spiritual (heavenly) dimensions of the SFR. Thus, the ability of the Johannine symbol to span two realms of reality makes it an appropriate means of expressing dualism in the SFR. The Son, who is presented in the text as physically active on earth below, originates from above and symbolizes the Father who dwells in the transcendent realm above. Jesus descends to earth to accomplish a divine mission, and upon completion of this mission he will ascend to the Father in the transcendent realm.38 Thus, transcendent elements of the SFR are expressed in the dualistic language of ‘above’ and ‘below’, which is characteristic of Johannine theology. In the Gospel, symbolic contrasts of light/darkness, night/day, blindness/vision, life/death, reception/rejection, ascent/descent, belief/unbelief, and honor/dishonor all convey aspects of the Son’s identity, mission, and relationship with the Father.39 Dualistic transcendence shapes the 38. For Jesus’ origin, see 3.13; 6.38; 18.36; for his return, see 6.62; 13.1; 20.17. 39. See Culpepper who observes that Johannine symbols are: ‘Predominantly dualistic: light and darkness, ordinary water and living water, plain bread and true bread. These symbols are woven into the more extensive dualism of the gospel.’ Culpepper, Anatomy, 200. Koester comments, ‘In Johannine terms, symbols span the chasm between what is “from above” and what is “from below” without collapsing

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language and symbolism of the Fourth Gospel, as evidenced in the Prologue, which contains several of the above-mentioned dualistic contrasts. In the Johannine narrative, Jesus spans immanent and transcendent realms, which can create tension for the interpreter who is required to navigate both realms to arrive at symbolic meaning. Symbols are aptly described as visual or conceptual representations of what is unseen or invisible;40 thus, symbolic interpretation that properly connects the semantic and non-semantic elements in symbols eases the dualistic tension in transcendent symbols. 3.3.4.3. Revelatory Transcendence. The entire Johannine narrative is aimed at revelation; every stage of the narrative reveals Christological truth.41 Hence, the third aspect of symbolic transcendence is revelatory; revelation in the Fourth Gospel takes place through transcendent symbols. The aim of transcendent symbols is to lead hearer-readers into intuitive or spiritual revelation. In the interpretative process, the transcendent nature of the symbol pulls the hearer-reader’s vision outside the text where a deeper understanding of the symbol is revealed. The hearer-reader is drawn into the transcendent domain of the symbol where s/he grasps the symbol’s intended meaning, and the symbol reveals what was hitherto unknown or unclear about Jesus and his Father. Johannine symbols are, therefore, vehicles of insight;42 they give insight into the nature of spiritual relations,43 which would not otherwise be adequately

the distinction’. Koester, Symbolism, 4. Lee describes Johannine symbols as the ‘expression of the coming together of divine and human, the transcendent and the immanent, the spiritual and the this-worldly’. Lee, Flesh and Glory, 29. Speaking of religious symbols, Wesley Kort observes, ‘Potent symbols gather meaning and force by unifying contraries—light and dark, life and death, male and female, beginning and ending, good and evil. The more unifying, the more powerful a symbol is or must be. Kort, Narrative Elements and Religious Meanings, 9. 40. Kooy, ‘Symbol, Symbolism’, 472. See also Heschel, who explains that transcendent symbols serve as a meeting place for the spiritual and the physical, and for the invisible and the visible. Heschel, Man’s Quest for God, 138. 41. This observation is based on Jn 20.31. At the same time, the Gospel narrative does contain statements that reÀect ambiguity and concealment, sometimes leading to misunderstanding. Ng comments that Johannine symbols may be seen to work like the kingdom parables since they create a dilemma of concealing and revealing at the same time. Ng, Water Symbolism, 47. See also F. C. Hancock III, ‘Secret Epiphanies: The Hermeneutics of Revealing and Concealing in the Fourth Gospel’ (unpublished PhD diss., Rice University, 1994). 42. Urban, Language and Reality, 415. 43. Ibid., 416.

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expressed or understood.44 Johannine scholars attest to the role of the symbols in the Gospel as vehicles of revelation.45 Jesus’ mission is to reveal the Father through his symbolic words and actions. The healing of the blind man in Jn 9 is a classic example of the revelatory nature of symbolic action. According to John Painter, Jn 9 is a symbolic narrative on spiritual perception; the point of the story is that humans are blind from birth and are in darkness until Jesus gives them light.46 Painter explains, ‘The symbols are used to enable the blind to see, but the meaning of the symbols can only be known by those who see that they point beyond themselves to the revealer and through him to God’.47 Thus, symbols are bearers of divine revelation. Painter’s interpretation emphasizes the need for the hearer-reader’s vision to follow the transcendent path of the symbol, which eventually leads to deeper knowledge of the SFR. The principle of revelatory transcendence highlights the important role of hearer-reader participation in the interpretative process of Johannine symbols. Readers engage with another level of reality when transcendent symbols draw them into the experience the symbols describe.48 As bearers of reality, Johannine symbols are intrinsic to revelation.49 The symbol not only points to, but also leads into, its transcendent meaning.50 The interpretative process of moving beyond the cognitive to the transcendent draws readers into the spiritual realities conveyed in the Gospel.51 The hearer-reader intuitively perceives the divine revelation expressed in the symbol, which leads to experiencing the reality of the revelation. Hence, symbols are ‘used to communicate that which transcends the world in 44. Ibid., 440–41. 45. See Koester, who insists that one of the main underpinnings of Johannine symbolism is its witness to divine realities. Koester, Symbolism, 2. Lee comments that the symbols of the Gospel are ‘intrinsic to revelation’; according to her, as vehicles of revelation, symbols ‘take us to the threshold of divine mystery: they reveal and conceal, convey yet do not capture, evoke without exhausting meaning’. Lee, Flesh and Glory, 27–28. Similarly, Ashton observes, ‘Every major motif in the Gospel is directly linked to the concept of revelation’. Ashton, Understanding, 515. 46. Painter, ‘Johannine Symbols’, 37. 47. Ibid., 38 (emphasis mine). 48. Lee, Flesh and Glory, 16. 49. Ibid., 28. 50. Urban, Language and Reality, 415. 51. See Schneiders, who points out that Johannine symbols: (1) make the transcendent present (in a limited mode), (2) reveal by involving the person in a relationship with the transcendent, (3) lead the person into the unknown, (4) leads to a transforming experience, and (5) mediate what is spiritual or mysterious. Schneiders, Written That You May Believe, 67–69.

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order that the transcendent might be experienced’.52 Jesus insists that his audience must hear, perceive, and believe before they can grasp and experience his symbolic utterances;53 this is the only way people will experience the revelation in his message. The revelatory aim of Johannine symbolism is to lead hearer-readers into faith in Jesus Christ, to experience divine life, and, thereby, to be transformed (20.31). 3.3.4.4. Transformative Transcendence. Schneiders observes that Johannine symbols lead hearer-readers of the Gospel to transformation; she explains, ‘what the symbols of the Fourth Gospel offer is a pathway to divine glory, which is both the location and the means of transformation’.54 The transformative purpose of the Gospel is reÀected in 20.31— the author desires hearer-readers to experience the transforming power of eternal life, by believing that Jesus is the Son of God. Those who believe the revelation communicated through transcendent symbols are transformed by the revelation. Transcendent symbols reveal Jesus’ identity as Son of God, which leads to the transformative experience of the spiritual realities expressed in his salvi¿c message. Transcendent symbols shape the text and engage hearer-readers both cognitively and intuitively.55 Lee stresses the important role hearer-readers play in embracing the transformation evoked by the text; she explains, ‘Meaning emerges in the interaction between text and reader in which the reader is an active listener, an engaged presence within the borders formed by the symbolic structure of the text’.56 Transformation occurs as hearer-readers interpret and understand Johannine symbols. Symbolic understanding is not limited to the cognitive realm, but shifts to the intuitive realm where insight and revelation leads hearer-readers to the transcendent experience of participating in the SFR; according to Schneiders, ‘It is precisely this sense of presence, participation, and transformation that lies at the heart of Johannine symbolism’.57 52. Painter, ‘Johannine Symbols’, 35. See also Attridge, who suggests that John’s genre bending of words is ‘an effort to force its audience away from words to an encounter with the Word himself’. H. W. Attridge, ‘Genre Bending in the Fourth Gospel’, JBL 121, no. 1 (2002): 3–21 (21, emphasis mine). 53. See 3.12, 15, 21; 5.24–25; 7.17; 8.24, 43; 10.25, 38; 13.7–8. 54. Schneiders, Written that You May Believe, 235, 237. 55. Lee, Flesh and Glory, 222. 56. Ibid., 235 (original emphasis). 57. Cognition, however, still remains part of the interpretative process; Schneiders insists that the aim of symbolic interpretation is ‘not to deny cognitive content but rather, to con¿rm that the symbol conveys an intelligible yet ineffable sense of presence’. Schneiders, Written That You May Believe, 21–22 (emphasis mine).

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Transcendent symbolism also conveys the transformation Jesus brings to the understanding of theological concepts. In 3.1–21, for example, Jesus’ teaching on the new birth gives new insight into the Jewish understanding of what is required to enter the Kingdom of God. Jesus’ explanation of being ‘born anew’ or ‘born from above’ transforms the Jewish religious idea of entering the Kingdom, from obedience to the law to belief in Jesus and his power to grant eternal life. Likewise in 11.1–44, Jesus’ symbolic act of raising Lazarus from the dead transforms the concept of eschatological resurrection into the understanding that Jesus is himself the embodiment of eternal life, which is available not in the distant future, but now. Transcendent symbols, therefore, lead hearerreaders to experience the transformed theology Jesus conveys in his teachings.58 As hearer-readers encounter and believe the truth expressed in the Gospel’s transcendent symbols, they experience a revelation of Christ that leads to transformation and results in divine relationship.59 The Gospel narrative shows that transformation is not always instantaneous, as seen in the transformation of the disciples’ faith;60 nevertheless, the Gospel does give examples of radical transformation, for example, the Samarian woman and her village (4.1–42), the nobleman and his household (4.46–53), and the man born blind (9.38)—all their responses point to transformed lives. After comprehending the symbolic language and actions of Jesus, these individuals believe that he is the Son of God, which results in transformation from a state of unbelief to belief. Transcendent symbols in the Gospel of John are able to transform the hearts of hearer-readers and bring them to belief in Jesus. Those who do not believe Jesus’ symbolic words and actions are not transformed by revelation; they remain in sin and darkness (3.18–21; 9.35–41; 12.35–36, 44–46; 15.21–22). Those who believe and receive God’s revealing activity in Jesus enter into a transformed relationship with God as Father.61 As expressed in his Farewell Prayer (17.11, 21), Jesus reveals the Father so that believers may partake in the SFR; transcendent symbols lead to the 58. See also Koester’s comment on the transformation that takes place in understanding the symbol of bread: ‘John’s Gospel agrees that those who eat bread should recognize the divine giver, but transforms the way this is usually understood: True bread comes from God and the cruci¿ed Christ.’ Koester, Symbolism in the Fourth Gospel, 102. 59. Schneiders, Written that You May Believe’, 67. 60. The narrative shows different stages of belief as well as unbelief in the disciples who follow Jesus (1.37–47; 2.12, 22; 6.60–71; 16.29–30; 20.27). 61. Carter, John Storyteller, Interpreter, Evangelist, 4.

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transformation of hear-readers into children of God (1.12). Transformation begins with a new understanding of the Son and his Father, as revealed through the transcendent symbols in the teachings of the Son. 3.4. Summary The Gospel of John is a literary narrative with a symbolic structure that serves a theological purpose. The theory outlined above is formulated to facilitate interpretation of the Gospel by offering insight into the nature, function, and pattern of Johannine symbols. The theory organizes the Gospel’s symbols into four main theoretical principles, namely, representation, assimilation, association, and transcendence. Since not all symbols have equal frequency, function, or force in the narrative,62 the theory assists in evaluating and recognizing variables in Johannine symbolism. The four principles also provide a theoretical platform for examining the link between the SFR and symbolism. Representation shows how the SFR is symbolically introduced and reintroduced at different stages of the narrative, thereby offering hearerreaders a multi-faceted view of the divine relationship. The principle of representation also explains the aspect of interpretation that evokes reÀection and resemblance, which leads to symbolic meaning. Assimilation emphasizes the pre-semantic linguistic, cultural, and theological origins of Johannine symbolism. Semantic assimilation explains how Johannine symbols embody characteristics of their literal meaning. The principle of assimilation also shows how hearer-readers assimilate meaning as they comprehend symbols in the narrative. Association gives insight into the structure of John’s symbolic network and its relation to other ¿gures of speech. The principle of transcendence focuses on the core element of Johannine symbolism. Symbols are transcendent because their meanings transcend semantic boundaries; however, their narrative context gives transcendent symbols boundaries for accurate interpretation. Dualistic transcendence explains how transcendent symbols ease the tension of dualism in the SFR. Revelatory and transformative transcendence describe how Johannine symbols lead to Christological revelation and transformative experience, which enable hearer-readers to participate in the SFR.

62. See Wheelwright’s observation that some symbols have more universality and durability than others. Wheelwright, ‘The Archetypal Symbol’, 221.

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Johannine symbolism is an intricate phenomenon because of its versatility and multiplicity of function in the Gospel. Symbols enrich the storyline, move the plot forward, navigate temporality and transcendence, and ful¿l the theological purpose of the Gospel. This specialized theory of symbolism is useful for resolving complexities faced in symbolic interpretation of the Johannine narrative. Even though symbolic interpretation is inexhaustible,63 it is anticipated that this theory will contribute to the ongoing endeavour of facilitating the interpretation of Johannine symbolism. The next chapter lays a theoretical foundation for understanding the narrative components that enable the Gospel to accommodate its extensive symbolic network.

63. Many scholars refer to the inexhaustible nature of symbolic interpretation. See Tzvetan Todrovon, who discusses the ‘inexhaustible character of the symbol’. T. Todrovon, Symbolism and Interpretation (trans. C. Porter; Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1982), 17. Similarly, Hinderer also speaks of the ‘principle of inexhaustiveness or incommensurability’. Hinderer, ‘Theory, Conception, and Interpretation’, 93.

Chapter 4

NARRATIVE AND SYMBOL IN THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

4.1. Introduction The symbolic network in the Fourth Gospel is conveyed through a creative narrative structure.1 The Johannine narrative contains certain elements that enable it to accommodate the elaborate symbolic presentation of Jesus as Son in relationship with God the Father. The plan of this study, which is to unveil John’s Christological Symbology within the Gospel’s narrative structure, prompts the following questions: What narrative elements render the Gospel conducive to such an elaborate symbolic network? How do these narrative elements collaborate with the network? Is the relation between narrative and symbol reciprocal? In other words, does the Gospel’s narrative structure facilitate Johannine symbolism while, simultaneously, symbolism shapes the narrative structure? This chapter aims to answer these questions.

1. See Derek Tovey, who states that the Johannine message cannot be separated from the Gospel’s narrative form because the theological purpose of the Gospel is contained within its narrative shape. Tovey also argues the Gospel is more integrated and developed than the Synoptic narratives as individual episodes in the Gospel of John are more extended and complex; transitions between episodes are more even, and frequent use of temporal markers, connectives, Àashforwards, and Àashbacks give the narrative chronological and thematic unity. D. Tovey, Narrative Art and Act in the Fourth Gospel (JSNTSup 151; Shef¿eld: Shef¿eld Academic Press, 1997), 34–36. Likewise, Hans Windisch notes in the Gospel a ‘graphic storytelling and a mastery of technique that none of the synoptic evangelists was able to achieve’. H. Windisch, ‘John’s Narrative Style’, in Stibbe, ed., The Gospel of John as Literature, 25–64 (38). According to Windisch, John’s mastery of literary craftsmanship is evident in how he selects his material, working only with material signi¿cant for his purpose and shaping scenes vividly and dramatically. Ibid., 62. However, the Gospel contains several aporiae, sometimes viewed by scholars as evidence of disjointedness (4.1–2; 6.1; 7.53–8.11; 14.31; 21.1–25).

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Section 4.2 will interact with various narrative theories in order to de¿ne, identify, and analyze four key narrative elements, namely, plot, character, time, and rhetoric.2 These four elements have been selected because they are signi¿cant for the methodological design used in this study. Plot, character, time, and rhetoric are important for the following reasons: (1) they direct the order and inÀuence the pattern in which symbols appear and reappear, (2) their function in the narrative structure organizes the symbolic network, and (3) they assist in symbolic interpretation. Section 4.3 analyzes these four elements in context of the Johannine narrative. First, the Gospel is established as a symbolic narrative. Second, explanations are given to show how the narrative elements develop John’s symbolic presentation of the SFR. The following aspects are examined: (1) sequence of the narrative plot, (2) characterization of the Son and Father, (3) emergence of transcendent symbolism within the temporal dynamics of narrative, and (4) symbolism as persuasive language aimed at leading readers to believe in Jesus as Son of God sent from the Father. It is proposed that these four aspects contribute signi¿cantly to the Johannine presentation of the SFR and the con¿guration of John’s Christological Symbology. The chapter concludes with a summary in section 4.4. 4.2. What Is Narrative? John, like all authors of the Synoptic Gospels, employs the age-old medium of written narrative to present his unique portrayal of Jesus Christ as Son of God the Father.3 One problem that confronts modern interpreters of gospel narratives is the lack of information about the literary conventions within which biblical narratives were shaped;4 therefore, literary researchers of John’s Gospel have to resort to modern theories that can explain the basic structure and function common to narratives.5 Investigation into the study of narrative theory entails asking 2. This study acknowledges the presence in the Gospel of other narrative elements such as setting, tone, and point of view, but views the four elements selected as most inÀuential in enabling the Gospel narrative to accommodate the elaborate symbolic presentation of the SFR. 3. Burton L. Mack observes that the Evangelists gave sayings of Jesus that were common in a pre-Gospel setting a different nuance by framing them with a narrative plot; thus the gospels were given a new narrative setting. B. L. Mack, Rhetoric and the New Testament (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990), 80. 4. R. Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative (New York: Basic Books, 1981), 47. 5. Tovey insists that interpretation of the Fourth Gospel should be aided by techniques of narrative-critical theory. Tovey, Narrative Art and Act, 34.

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the following questions: What exactly is a narrative? What is its composition? How are different narrative terms de¿ned? The basic idea of a narrative is that it is a work of literature that tells a story.6 Seymour Chatman’s seminal study on narrative structure postulates that narrative is composed of two parts—story and discourse. Story describes what the narrative is about (events, characters, and settings); discourse refers to how narrative is told or transmitted.7 In other words, story is the content of the narrative, and discourse is the form by which the narrative is expressed.8 Other literary scholars have offered slightly nuanced versions of Chatman’s de¿nition.9 Essentially narrative is made up of two parts—the content of the story and the author’s stylistic representation of the story. A literary narrative is more than just the random ‘telling’ of tales. Most narratives follow a broad structural pattern that consists of various components, such as sequenced events, representational characters that carry out events, and narrative style of the author. In sum, narrative may be de¿ned as a linguistic representation of a sequence of events conducted by characters, and expressed to an audience in a narrator’s particular style. As stated in the introduction to this 6. M. A. Powell, What Is Narrative Criticism? (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990), 23. 7. S. Chatman, Story and Discourse: Narrative Structure in Fiction and Film (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1978), 9. E. M. Forster de¿nes story as ‘a narrative of events arranged in time sequence’. E. M. Forster, Aspects of a Novel (New York: Harcourt, Brace & Company, 1927), 51. 8. Chatman, Story and Discourse, 23–24. 9. For Peter Abbott, narrative consists of story and narrative discourse; thus, story is an event or sequence of events, while narrative discourse is the representation of those events. P. H. Abbott, The Cambridge Introduction to Narrative (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 16. Susana Onega and Jose Landa de¿ne narrative as ‘a representation of a series of events’. Onega and Landa identify narrative in two senses. The ¿rst is the broad sense of narrative as ‘a work with a plot’; the second is the narrower sense of narrative as an ‘exclusively linguistic phenomenon, a speech act, de¿ned by the presence of a narrator or teller and a verbal text’. Onega and Landa’s second de¿nition places emphasis on the linguistics, writer, and recipient of the text. S. Onega and J. A. G. Landa, eds., Narratology: An Introduction (London: Longman, 1996), 1–4. Tovey describes narrative as an artifact and an act. As an artifact, narrative is a construct made up of elements such as characters, events and settings. As an act, narrative is a process by which a message (story) is transmitted from sender to receiver, or an interaction between the author and reader. Tovey, Narrative Art and Act, 34. Robert Scholes and Robert Kellogg view narrative simply as a literary a work distinguished by the presence of a story and a story-teller. R. Scholes and R. Kellogg, The Nature of Narrative (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1966), 4.

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chapter, the purpose of the following analysis of narrative theory is to lay the foundation for a methodological framework for examining the Johannine symbolic network in connection with the SFR. The four elements (plot, character, time, rhetoric) con¿gure Johannine narrative in the following ways: (1) through a sequence of events (plot), (2) the Gospel presents Jesus in complete unity with his Father (characters), (3) by use of transcendent symbols set in temporality (time), (4) for the purpose of persuading readers to believe that Jesus is the Son of God and, thereby, experience life in his name (rhetoric). 4.2.1. Plot The structure of a narrative is traditionally called the ‘plot’.10 Generally, the plot comprises events or episodes;11 however, de¿nitions of plot offered by scholars also focus on other elements such as arrangement/ structure/design,12 causality,13 emphasis,14 ending,15 and interpretation/ meaning.16 Ricoeur examines the theme of plot in the ¿rst volume of his 10. Wellek and Warren, Theory of Literature, 216. 11. Scholes and Kellogg de¿ne plot as the sequential element in narrative. Scholes and Kellogg, Nature of Narrative, 207. Wellek and Warren describe plot as composed of smaller narrative structures referred to as episodes or events. Wellek and Warren, Theory of Literature, 217. 12. Aristotle regards plot as the ‘construction’ or ‘arrangement’ of incidents. O. B. Hardison, Jr., Aristotle’s Poetics: A Translation and Commentary for Students of Literature (trans. L. Golden; Englewood Cliffs: Prentice–Hall, 1968), 12. Aristotle divides plot into two—simple and complex. Simple plot is when change of events takes place without a reversal of fortune or recognition. However, in a complex plot, change takes place by reversal of fortune, recognition, or both (Poetics X). Hardison, Aristotle’s Poetics, 18–19. Peter Brooks views plot as the outline of story, ‘that which supports and organizes the rest’. According to Brooks, therefore, plot is ‘an embracing concept for the design and intention of narrative’. P. Brooks, ‘Reading for the Plot’, in Onega and Landa, eds., Narratology, 251–61 (254, 255). Ricoeur notes that plot produces ‘a new congruence in the organization of the events’; in other words, plot grasps together and integrates multiple, scattered events into a complete story. Ricoeur, Time and Narrative, 1:ix, x. 13. Forster describes plot as a narrative of events with the emphasis falling on causality. Forster, Aspects of a Novel, 130. 14. Chatman observes the function of a plot is to emphasize or de-emphasize, focus, interpret, or comment on certain events in the narrative. Chatman, Story and Discourse, 43. 15. Northrop Frye explains plot in the following statement: ‘When a reader of a novel asks, “How is this story going to turn out?” he is asking a question about the plot’. Frye, Anatomy of Criticism, 52. 16. According to Culpepper, plot interprets events by placing them in sequence and context, which de¿nes their meaning; thus, plot conveys the signi¿cance of the

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three-part work, Time and Narrative (1984). His basic understanding is that a plot orders events into a story;17 hence, the plot of a narrative draws out a meaningful story from a diversity of events.18 According to Ricoeur, plot is symbolic in nature because its actions signify goals and motives;19 therefore, he describes plot as ‘symbolic articulations of action’ that have the capacity to be narrated.20 Human action can be narrated because it has been ‘symbolically mediated’;21 this observation by Ricoeur con¿rms the ability of narratives to contain symbolic systems. Ricoeur also advises that actions of characters are to be interpreted within the context of the symbolic convention of the narrative.22 Ricoeur’s theory of narrative af¿rms that plots not only organize narratives, but also give them symbolic formations. Plots give narratives basic literary design, reveal the author’s emphasis and purpose, aid interpretation, and enable symbolic systems. The plot can be described as the backbone of a narrative; a narrative without a comprehensible and well-organized chain of events is unable to produce meaning. Actions and events of characters in plots contain symbolic meanings that are signi¿cant for interpreting narratives. 4.2.2. Characters Actions and events in a plot are usually carried out by characters,23 who reveal themselves through both their speech and actions. Characters are known by what they say about themselves, what others say about them, and also by their environments or settings.24 Characterization is the technique by which authors fashion convincing portraits of people.25 story. Culpepper, Anatomy, 85. Brooks sees plot as ‘a structure for those meanings that are developed through temporal succession’. Brooks, ‘Reading for the Plot’, 255. Resseguie also views plot as contributing to the understanding and meaning of a narrative. J. L. Resseguie, Narrative Criticism of the New Testament: An Introduction (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2005), 197. 17. Ricoeur, Time and Narrative, 1:56. 18. Ibid., 1:65. 19. Ibid., 1:55. 20. Ibid., 1:54. 21. Ibid., 1:57–58. 22. Ibid., 1:58. 23. This study acknowledges that narrative characters are not always human. According to Abbott, some stories revolve around animals or animated objects. Hence, Abbott uses the term ‘entities’ and refers to entities with human qualities as ‘characters’. Abbott, Cambridge Introduction to Narrative, 17. 24. Resseguie, Narrative Criticism, 121. 25. Culpepper, Anatomy, 105.

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Characterization is also the process by which characters are ‘formulated, depicted and developed’.26 In reality, a character is not actually a person, but rather the author’s representation of a person, be it historical or ¿ctional.27 Narrating every detail about characters does not always serve the author’s purpose; therefore, authors are selective in what they reveal about their characters. Distinctive traits, tones, and qualities of characters are carefully selected and integrated into the narrative plot, and these characterizations are a signi¿cant part of an author’s narrative strategy.28 Most literary scholars approach characterization primarily by categorization; many follow E. M. Forster’s distinction between ‘Àat’ and ‘round’ characters.29 According to Chatman, a Àat character possesses a single dominating trait and is therefore clearly structured and highly predictable. By contrast, round characters possess a variety of conÀicting or contradictory traits, are open-ended, capable of surprising readers, and in this way, become ‘inexhaustible objects for contemplation’.30 This

26. J. Darr, On Character Building: The Reader and the Rhetoric of Characterization in Luke–Acts (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1992), 173 (footnotes). 27. On characters as individuals, see Petri Merenlahti who describes characterization as the ‘representation of individuality’. P. Merenlahti, ‘Characters in the Making: Individuality and Ideology in the Gospels’, in Reconceiving Narrative Criticism (ed. D. Rhoads and K. Syreeni; JSNTSup, 184; Shef¿eld: Shef¿eld Academic Press, 1999), 49–72 (49). Baruch Hochman argues that a character must be viewed as part of the structure of the text, as one of the complex and interlocking elements that constitute the text. Characters are, therefore, part of the organizing structure that generates and contains them. B. Hochman, Character in Literature (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1985), 31, 65. 28. Tolmie, ‘Characterization’, 75. Culpepper notes, ‘The writer has a distinct understanding of a person and his or her role in a signi¿cant sequence of events’. Culpepper, Anatomy, 105. Likewise Resseguie states that no author can give a complete record of everything that happens in a person’s life; thus, to a certain extent, literary authors give characters life and the characters are re-created in the reader’s imagination. Resseguie, Narrative Criticism, 121. 29. According to Forster, Àat characters are constructed around a single idea or quality, while round characters involve more than one factor. Forster, Aspects of a Novel, 103. In contrast to dual characterization, Hochman proposes eight categories with opposites, which are as follows: (1) Stylization/Naturalism, (2) Coherence/ Incoherence, (3) Wholeness/Fragmentariness, (4) Literalness/Symbolism, (5) Complexity/Simplicity, (6) Transparency/Opacity, (7) Dynamism/Staticism, and (8) Closure/Openness. Hochman, Character in Literature, 88–89. 30. Chatman, Story and Discourse, 132–33. Similarly, Wellek and Warren posit static and dynamic (developmental) characterizations. Static (‘Àat’) characterization presents a single dominant trait throughout the narrative, while dynamic

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traditional dual categorization of characters provides a clear-cut, but rather restricted means of character identi¿cation and analysis. The term ‘Àat’ (or ‘static’) may imply that a character is uninteresting, dull, or uneventful. The possibility should exist for Àat characters to exhibit dominant traits and yet be dynamic, forceful, and even capable of surprise, thus propelling the narrative forward in speech and action to an eventful conclusion. A third category that combines dominant and dynamic features may provide an alternative for characters that do not ¿t exclusively into either Àat or round categories.31 Another important aspect of categorization is the role of repetition in character development. According to Mieke Bal, in ¿rst appearances, the qualities of characters are not totally comprehended by readers; however, as the narrative progresses, relevant characteristics are repeated which make the characters emerge more clearly.32 Repetition of character traits through speech and action usually signi¿es or symbolizes meanings the author wishes to convey to hearer-readers. Through repeated speech and actions, characters move the plot forward, creating a timeline that plays a signi¿cant role in the symbolic structure of a narrative. 4.2.3. Time Events in a narrative create the order of time;33 narrative time is not always chronological but rather compressed into events and episodes.

(‘round’) characterization is expansive and requires space and emphasis in the narrative. Wellek and Warren, Theory of Literature, 218. See also Scholes and Kellogg, who expand dynamic characterization into developmental and chronological descriptions. Developmental characterization clari¿es the progress of the character’s personal traits; however, with chronological characterization, the character’s personal traits are more extended and signi¿cant. Scholes and Kellogg, Nature of Narrative, 169. 31. See Outi Lehtipuu who notes that distinction between round and Àat characters has attracted much criticism in several recent literary theories. O. Lehtipuu, ‘Characterization and Persuasion: The Rich Man and the Poor Man in Luke 16:19– 31’, in Rhoads and Syreeni, eds., Reconceiving Narrative Criticism, 73–105 (78). 32. M. Bal, Narratology: Introduction to the Theory of Narrative (2nd ed.; Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1997), 125. Bal also points out the image of a character is built by its relationship with other characters, which tend to accentuate similarities and contrasts. Ibid., 125. Similarly, Hochman observes characters are generated by words pointing to structured sequences of events within the narrative. Hochman, Character in Literature, 31. 33. Abbott, Cambridge Introduction to Narrative, 3–4. Onega and Landa explain that successive parts of a narrative have a ‘longitudinal structure of time and actions’. Onega and Landa, Narratology, 5.

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The world that is unfolded in a narrative plot is always temporal,34 and authors employ different methods to control how time develops in their narratives. These methods range from expanding time by detailed and prolonged narrations, to encapsulating time into very brief events or summaries. Narrative time is Àuid,35 and establishes ‘a sense of a present moment’.36 The ‘present moment’ in narratives may be identi¿ed in two ways; ¿rst, the author writes the narrative in his or her present time, such that even historical narratives are written or rewritten from the present perspective of author or narrator. Second, readers read the narrative in their ‘present time’, meaning that events of all time frames are ‘pulled’ into the reader’s present moment. Ricoeur uses his theory of plot to explain the relation between time and narrative; he describes this relation as ‘pre¿gured time that becomes a re¿gured time through the mediation of a con¿gured time’.37 Time representing past events (pre¿gured time) is shaped and arranged into the plot (re¿gured time), resulting in time constructed by the narrative (con¿gured time). Beneath an explicit chronological narrative time is implicit con¿gured time, which signi¿es the author’s perspective of narrated events. Time is a complex phenomenon, particularly in narratives that toggle between several time frames, and because of this the subtle twists and turns of time in the sequence of a narrative plot requires close attention by both author and reader. James Phelan’s rhetorical approach helps ease the dif¿culty in navigating narrative time; he views the text as an invitation by the author to experience the movement of narrative through time, while simultaneously engaging the reader’s intellect, emotions, judgment, and ethics.38 Authors engage and draw readers into narrative plot and time through the power of rhetoric.

34. Ricoeur, Time and Narrative, 1:xi. 35. Abbott, Cambridge Introduction to Narrative, 5. Abbot also notes that even though narrative time is Àuid, it is rarely kept in strict isolation from regular time. 36. Chatman, Story and Discourse, 63. 37. Ricoeur, Time and Narrative, 1:54. Re¿guring takes place by combining two temporal dimensions—chronological and non-chronological. Chronological (episodic) dimension is linear and consists of events laid out in the story. Non-chronological (con¿gurational) dimension unites all events and incidents into a temporal whole and leads to the narrative’s theme. Ibid., 1:66–67. 38. J. Phelan, Narrative as Rhetoric: Technique, Audiences, Ethics, Ideology (Athens: Ohio University Press, 1996), 90.

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4.2.4. Rhetoric39 Persuasive rhetoric is used in literature to reinforce the power of argument;40 hence, rhetoric is the power of narrative.41 As the art of persuasion, rhetoric breathes life into narratives and, inÀuences how readers think and feel about what authors say.42 Narrative rhetoric is strategic in purpose as it attempts to mould others’ views of the world, and invites readers to ‘reconsider their existing world view in the light of a world view promoted through strategic communication’.43 Thus, according to Phelan, rhetoric ‘tells a particular story to a particular audience in a particular situation for, presumably, a particular purpose’.44 Walter Fisher offers a paradigm that shows how narratives function symbolically as a means of persuasive communication. Fisher explains that ‘narrative reasoning’ is more effective in inÀuencing opinions and decision-making than propositional reasoning.45 This claim by Fisher challenges the presupposition dating back to Aristotle, which views humans as primarily rational beings.46 With the Aristotelian paradigm, persuasion is determined by knowledge and rational argument;47 in

39. In this study ‘rhetoric’ is used not in the sense of ‘rhetorical criticism’ or speech methods used in ancient Greece, but rather in the general sense of persuasion that occurs through narratology. 40. Frye, Anatomy of Criticism, 245. 41. Abbott, Cambridge Introduction to Narrative, 36. 42. Resseguie, Narrative Criticism, 41. According to Abbott, rhetorical features in narratives produce strong feelings and thoughts in readers. Abbott, Cambridge Introduction to Narrative, 36. 43. P. M. Phillips, ‘Rhetoric’, in Explorations in Biblical Interpretation and Literary Theory (ed. D. G. Firth and J. A. Grant; Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 2008), 226–65 (241). Resseguie states that authors use rhetoric to persuade readers of their ideological point of view, norms, beliefs, and values. Resseguie, Narrative Criticism, 41. 44. Phelan, Narrative as Rhetoric, 4. 45. W. A. Fisher, Human Communication as Narration: Toward a Philosophy of Reason, Value, and Action (South Carolina: University of South Carolina Press, 1989), 266. 46. Ibid., 59. Fisher’s paradigm began with his study on public argument, which he describes as ‘a dialectical synthesis of two traditional strands’ consisting of the following: (1) the argumentative and persuasive, and (2) the literary aesthetic. Ibid., 266. Ricoeur views narratology as simulation of narrative intelligence belonging to the same level of rationality in other sciences of language. P. Ricoeur, Figuring the Sacred: Religion, Narrative, and Imagination (ed. M. I. Wallace; trans. D. Pellauer; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995), 239. 47. Fisher, Human Communication as Narration, 59.

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contrast, Fisher insists that humans are storytellers.48 According to Fisher, because human communication and decision making is based on symbols and signs,49 reasoning does not have to be con¿ned to argumentative prose, but can be ‘discovered in all sorts of symbolic action’.50 Fisher describes his narrative model as ‘a theory of symbolic actions—words and/or deeds—that have sequence and meaning for those who live, create, or interpret them’.51 Fisher’s paradigm unfolds the symbolic nature of rhetoric in narratives as follows: Narratives are representative, they persuade by pointing the reader to events or characters in the narrative, which symbolize the author’s worldview. Therefore, the persuasive power of rhetoric in narrative lies in the authors’ ability to symbolize meaning effectively.52 Another theoretical model that helps explain the signi¿cance of rhetoric in symbolic narratives is Richard Gregg’s proposal that rhetoric is symbolic inducement.53 According to Gregg, language is a symbol system that makes the human capacity to symbolize possible; therefore, symbolic persuasion is part of human cognitive activity.54 Narrative is inherently symbolic and persuasive because it is formed by language, which is a tool of human selection and choice. In sum, rhetoric is strategic symbolizing power through narration. Because rhetoric involves purpose and decision making, both author and reader naturally engage the text symbolically. The author strategically symbolizes the human experience and the reader makes a choice inÀuenced by the power of rhetoric in the narrative. By the conclusion of a narrative, readers will be compelled to make a decision based on the power and effectiveness of the author’s rhetorical skill. Because of its symbolic nature, narrative is a powerful means of persuasion. 48. Ibid., 64. Fisher’s theory of humans as ‘homo narrans’ is an extension of Kenneth Burke’s theory of humans as ‘symbol-making’ and ‘symbol-using’. See K. Burke, ‘De¿nition of Man’, in Language as Symbolic Action: Essays on Life, Literature, and Method (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1968), 3–24 (16). 49. Fisher, Human Communication as Narration, 65. 50. W. Fisher, ‘Narrative as Human Communication Paradigm’, in Contemporary Rhetorical Theory: A Reader (ed. J. Lucaites, C. M. Condit, and S. Caudill; New York: Guilford Press, 1999), 265–87 (265). Likewise, Ricoeur states, ‘Human action can be narrated because it is symbolically mediated’. Ricoeur, Time and Narrative, 1:57. 51. Fisher, ‘Narration as Human Communication’, 266. 52. See Phelan, who proposes that rhetoric is synergy occurring between authorial agency, textual phenomena, and reader response. Phelan, Narrative as Rhetoric, xii. 53. Gregg, Symbolic Inducement, 148. 54. Ibid., 19. Symbolic cognitive activity occurs by structuring or patterning human experience; structuring involves selection, choice, and purpose. Ibid., 132.

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4.2.5. Summary Some observations can be summarized from the above analysis of narrative theory. First, plots design, arrange, and unite events and episodes, thereby giving narratives purpose and meaning. Plots serve a symbolic function because they contain actions that signify meaning. Second, authors use the speech and actions of their characters symbolically; thus, characters become the central focus of narrative plots. Third, the dimensions of time portrayed in narratives are created by authors who can interweave different timeframes for purposes of signi¿cation. Finally, narrative rhetoric symbolically aims at persuading readers to accept authors’ perspectives. Rhetoric symbolizes the author’s worldview and is, therefore, a powerful and integral part of symbolic narratives. In sum, authors can create symbolic meaning through these four narrative elements.55 The four elements analyzed create symbolic meaning in the Johannine narrative. The next section examines how these narrative elements develop the Gospel’s presentation of Johannine symbolism and the SFR. 4.3. Narrative, Symbolism, and the SFR in the Gospel of John Together, narrative and symbolism shape the Fourth Gospel and facilitate the emergence of a symbolic network with the SFR at its centre. As Johannine symbolism develops, the Son and Father are inextricably bound together. With the unveiling of each symbol, the story of the Son in relationship with his Father becomes the centre of the narrative. The symbolic presentation of the Son and Father is bound together in the narrative, and by the narrative.56 Scholars have recognized the strong link between the Johannine narrative and its symbolism; they identify different features that contribute to this link.57 Three main observations made 55. Kort, Narrative Elements and Religious Meanings, 18. 56. See Lee who views the entire Johannine narrative as symbolic; her study show how symbols form narrative content. Lee’s study focuses on six ‘symbolic narratives’ in the Gospel. Lee, Symbolic Narratives, 33. According to McGaughey, symbols build and transform their ‘narrative horizon’. McGaughey, ‘Ricoeur’s Metaphor and Narrative Theories’, 434. 57. Lehtipuu remarks, ‘The fragile unity of the narrated-interpreted world is closest to the breaking point in the Gospel of John, where scholars often speak of “narrative symbolism” or “symbolic narratives” ’. Lehtipuu, ‘Characterization and Persuasion’, 116. Zimmermann describes the Johannine text as ‘¿guratively shaped on the level of the “narrated world” ’. Zimmermann, ‘Imagery in John’, 25. Carter refers to the Prologue as ‘a symbolic unit’. W. Carter, ‘The Prologue and John’s Gospel: Function, Symbol and the De¿nitive Word’, JSNT 39 (1990): 35–58 (50).

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by scholars are as follows: (1) the story and discourse of the Johannine narrative are bound together by symbols,58 (2) the Johannine narrative is designed to unfold symbolism;59 narrative structure gives rise to symbolism, symbolism in turn creates the structure of the narrative,60 and (3) miraculous signs in the narrative contribute to the symbolic form of the Gospel.61 Symbols are concentrated forms of the narratives to which they relate.62 Symbolism integrates and shapes the Johannine narrative, while, at the same time, the narrative is structured in such a way that it unfolds and expands the symbols. Johannine symbols tell the Gospel story and can, therefore, be viewed as mini-narratives within the larger Gospel narrative. The result of the interworking of symbolism and narrative in the Gospel of John is the vivid and dramatic presentation of the story of the SFR. The following sections examine how the narrative elements of plot, character, time, and rhetoric assist in presenting the SFR through John’s symbolic network.

58. Dodd describes the Gospel as ‘narrative and discourse, bound together by an intricate network of symbolism’. Dodd, Interpretation, 143. According to Dodd, discourses such as the Feeding of the Multitude, Healing at Siloam, and the Raising of Lazarus are related to their narratives and are to be understood symbolically. Where no direct symbolic indication is given, the reader is to seek symbolic interpretation. Ibid., 133–34. 59. Lee explains the purpose of the narrative is to unfold symbolism reciprocally; thus, unfolding the symbolism draws out the narrative. Lee, Flesh and Glory, 16, 28. Lee observes the entire Gospel is the product of intersections between narrative and symbol; therefore, narrative structure and symbol work together in a cohesive and integrated way. Lee, Symbolic Narratives, 226. Painter identi¿es ch. 9 as a ‘narrative symbol’, which lays out what the writer intends to convey through the symbol of light. Painter, ‘Johannine Symbols’, 39. 60. Lee, Symbolic Narratives, 21. McGaughey insists that symbols have no meaning without narrative. McGaughey, ‘Ricoeur’s Metaphor and Narrative Theories’, 434. 61. See Paschal, who views narratives with miraculous signs as symbolic; they contain sharp, dramatic sentences and seem to be ‘alive to the symbolic potential of language and events’. For example, in 13.30 the sharp sentence following Judas’ departure, ‘it was night’, is dramatic. This chronological information symbolically reÀects the nature of Judas’ mission. Paschal, ‘Sacramental Symbolism’, 154. 62. B. Bull, ‘Narrative and Symbol as a Means of Embodying Cultural Values’, 2. Online: http://www.reachingandteaching.org/downloads/NarrativeandSymbol.pdf (cited 14 September 2011).

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4.3.1. SFR and Symbolism in the Johannine Plot Plots of the gospel genre generally centre on Jesus’ life, ministry, death, resurrection, and ascension.63 Each of the four gospel writers created different plots,64 and the plot of John’s Gospel is remarkably different from the other three. Theologically, the Johannine plot of Jesus’ life, message, and ministry is intricately interwoven with his divine relationship with God the Father. Literarily, the plot is purposefully designed and structured with an elaborate symbolic network. This study proposes that the Johannine plot centres on Jesus, who is speci¿cally cast in the role of beloved Son sent from the Father. The Son’s origin, which is preexistent to the timeframe of the narrative, is linked to his intimate relationship with the transcendent Father. The Son is sent by the Father from heaven, where they both originally dwell together, to humanity on earth; the Son’s mission is to deliver the Father’s words and perform his works. The main message from the Father is that humanity should believe in his Son Jesus, as sole agent and Saviour; in doing so they will receive eternal life and enter into the divine relationship of Son and Father. This message is conveyed symbolically. The works of the Son, which consist of symbolic acts and miracles, con¿rm that the Son is sent from the Father. The plot develops a story line of dichotomous reaction to the heavenly message—belief and unbelief; each successive plot episode registers one or both reactions. The conÀict generated from those who do not believe, escalates until the plot reaches a peak in the arrest, death, and resurrection of the Son, followed by his departure to the Father. Intriguingly, these events have been repeatedly predicted in the course of the narrative. Although the Son dies by the schemes of his 63. See Grant Osborne’s identi¿cation of two levels of plot in the four gospels: the macro level is plot development of the entire gospel level, which consists of major and minor points. Micro level is the plot of the individual story or pericope. G. R. Osborne, ‘Literary Theory and Biblical Interpretation’, in Firth and Grant, eds., Explorations, 18–50 (43–44). According to Scholes and Kellogg, the main plot forms of empirical narratives are: (1) the historical form, based on an event from the past with its causes and consequences, and (2) the biographical form, taking its shape from the birth, life, and death of an actual individual. Scholes and Kellogg, Nature of Narrative, 214. 64. According to Culpepper, Àuidity of the gospel traditions enabled the Gospel writers create different plots; they fashioned their materials into a coherent whole by imposing meaning on events. Culpepper explains, ‘To establish internal coherence and convey the signi¿cance of the story, the evangelists selected, shaped, and arranged material so that its sequence established a certain progression and causality. Action and dialogue were used to establish various themes or motifs which recur throughout the gospels and the narrator and characters were made to cooperate in conveying the meaning of the story.’ Culpepper, Anatomy, 84–85.

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antagonists, his death is part of the Father’s plan; it is the Father who subsequently raises his Son from death. The resurrection, ¿nal departure (ascension), and return of the Son to the Father marks the beginning of a new era for those who receive eternal life by believing in the Son. The ministry initiated in the SFR continues through the work of the indwelling Holy Spirit, who now teaches and guides those who believe in the Son. The brilliance of the Johannine plot lies in the symbolic network that gradually unveils the Son and Father through words and actions in the narrative. Events in John’s narrative plot unveil or expand Christological symbols within the context of the SFR; the SFR and symbolism are unveiled in ¿ve ways. First, the sequence of events in the plot organizes symbols into a network. In turn, the Johannine plot can be uncovered by following the symbolic network introduced in the Prologue. As each event unfolds, a symbol or cluster of symbols emerges to establish the plot around the SFR. The events narrated in the Prologue unveil a cluster of symbols and symbolic language that portray the Son’s mission in light of his relationship with the Father. The plot facilitates symbolic and theological meaning; as hearer-readers follow the plot within which the Gospel’s symbolism must be interpreted, they are drawn into John’s theological perspective.65 Second, the symbolic speeches and actions of Jesus within the context of his relationship with the Father are united by the plot and become part of the Gospel’s symbolic system. In ch. 5, for example, Jesus’ symbolic act of healing the blind man results in the religious leaders’ plan to kill Jesus. The action of Jesus in ch. 5 has as its background, and is therefore, connected, with previous themes of divine agency (1.47–51; 2.1–11; 4.46–54) and rejection (1.10–11; 2.24; 3.18–16; 4.48). The plot streams discourses and actions together into ensuing episodes of Jesus’ interaction with people, with each episode expanding the Johannine symbolic network around the SFR. Plot development works to give John’s symbolic network its structure. Third, the dramatic succession of events are heightened by temporal markers (e.g., Ìĉ ëȸŧÉÀÇÅ, Ìĉ ÷ÄšÉß, Ìĉ ÌÉţÌþ, and ļÌÛ Ì¸ı̸), which connect symbolic events in the Gospel’s portrayal of Christ. The momentum and tension created in the narrative link successive episodes of 65. See also Culpepper, who observes the Gospel’s plot is controlled by ‘thematic development and strategy for wooing readers to accept its interpretation of Jesus’. Culpepper, Anatomy, 98. Ricoeur also identi¿es a type of symbolic system in narratology that furnishes a descriptive context for particular actions. In other words, meanings of actions of characters in a narrative are interpreted within the symbolic conventions of that narrative. Ricoeur, Time and Narrative, 1:58.

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symbolic speech and actions into a network. As each dramatic episode introduces or heightens the Son’s symbolic language and actions, hearerreaders gradually connect threads of the symbolic network constructed around the SFR. The dramatic nature of the Johannine plot acts as a unifying agent, pulling symbolic words and actions together into a continuous Àow of Christological revelation. Fourth, in the Johannine narrative, the speeches and actions of Jesus as the Messianic agent of the Father cause sharp reactions from some characters in the plot. Events which portray the rejection of the Son sent by the Father are pivotal points in the narrative, and as such shape the symbolic network. The plot is driven by conÀict and controversy generated from resistance to Jesus’ claims of Sonship and Messianic agency. Each conÀict episode (such as the Sabbath controversies of chs. 5 and 9) becomes a symbolic narrative of Jesus’ speeches and actions. As conÀict episodes increase, Johannine symbolism expands, so that conÀict episodes around the SFR are an integral part of the Johannine symbolic structure. Fifth, the Johannine plot contains much repetition;66 symbolism of life, light, and truth develop through repetition. Repeated mention of the ‘hour’ (2.4; 7.30; 8.20; 12.23, 27; 13.1; 17.1), heightens the dramatic tension and emphasizes pivotal points in the symbolic network. In addition, references to the ‘sending Father’ also recur and establish Jesus’ divine identity as Son and Messianic agent. Repetition in the Johannine plot can be seen to serve to emphasize and expand the SFR in John’s Christological Symbology. The literary craftsmanship of the Johannine plot undergirds the symbolic network in the Gospel. The measured sequence of events, dramatic tension, conÀict/controversy, and repetition, all contribute to the reciprocal relationship between plot and symbol in the Gospel of John. As the 66. According to Resseguie, repetition reiterates words, phrases, themes, patterns, situations, and actions for emphasis. Repetition is important for identifying narrative structure and design and may divide narrative passages into smaller units. Resseguie, Narrative Criticism, 42. Alter recognizes in biblical narratives, an elaborate system of repetition of phonemes, words, and phrases, linked to actions, images, and ideas. He also identi¿es repetitive devices such as leitwort, motif, theme, sequence of actions, and type-scenes. Alter, Art of Biblical Narrative, 95–98. In addition, Alter observes phrases or sentences ¿rst stated by the narrator that do not reveal their full signi¿cance until they are repeated; therefore, he advises readers to watch for small differences that emerge in patterns of verbatim repetition. Alter, Art of Biblical Narrative, 182–83. Culpepper observes throughout John’s Gospel the repetition of ‘images, terms, themes, signs, confrontations over the Law and Jesus’ identity, appearances at feasts in Jerusalem, and dialogues with followers and opponents’. Culpepper, Anatomy, 87.

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plot progresses, symbolism expands and develops, resulting in gradual recognition of the centrality of the SFR. In sum, the narrative plot of the Gospel produces around the SFR, an elaborate symbolic network, referred to in this study as John’s Christological Symbology. 4.3.2. Symbolic Characterization of the Son and Father In the Fourth Gospel Jesus the Son is the leading narrative character;67 however, his identity is inextricably bound to God the Father, the second most cited character in the narrative. Most of what the narrative reveals about Jesus comes from his own words; his character emerges as he explains his existence, mission, and actions in symbolic terms. Because Jesus reveals himself in reference to his relationship with the Father, as his character unfolds so also does the Father’s.68 The Johannine Gospel reveals a remarkable narrative strategy that simultaneously characterizes the Son and Father.69 Two pertinent questions considered in this section are as follows: (1) To what extent is a character a ‘literary phenomenon’? (2) Can a character ‘develop’?70 The answers to these questions reveal how character and symbol interact in the Gospel’s joint presentation of the Son and his Father. In the Johannine narrative, the activities of the Son and Father compare with typical activities of a human son–father relationship.71 Van der Watt’s helpful research into the socio-historical dimensions of relationships between sons and fathers in the Mediterranean world covers activities such as fathers educating, teaching, and loving their sons, as well as sons being loyal, responsible, obedient, and honourable to their 67. In this discussion, ‘narrative character’ does not imply ¿ctional characterization, but rather depiction or representation of persons in the narrative. 68. Culpepper comments, ‘God is characterized by Jesus…having understood the gospel’s characterization of Jesus one has grasped its characterization of God’. Culpepper, Anatomy of the Fourth Gospel, 113. 69. Nevertheless, in the Johannine narrative, Son and Father can be distinguished in the following ways: (1) they dwell in different time zones—the Son within narrative time and the Father in transcendent time, (2) they ful¿l different roles in the mission—the Father sends and the Son carries out the mission, and (3) the Father says nothing about himself, almost everything about him is known through the Son. 70. M. M. Thompson, ‘ “God’s Voice You Have Never Heard, God’s Form You Have Never Seen”: The Characterization of God in the Gospel of John’, Semeia 63 (1993): 259–77 (181–82). 71. Hylen stresses the social context of Johannine characters in the following remark: ‘Understanding John’s characters as representative ¿gures allows the reader to situate the Gospel in a likely ¿rst-century context: characters are mirrors of the social context in which the Gospel was produced’. Hylen, Imperfect Believers, 4.

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fathers.72 Communication and unity were also important aspects of ¿lial relationships in ancient Mediterranean society.73 Van der Watt emphasizes that while God is not a ‘father’ in an ordinary the sense, most of the characterization of God in the Gospel is analogous to that of an ordinary father.74 The terms ‘Son’ and ‘Father’ in the Gospel also symbolize a transcendent divine relationship. Because the Father is not physically represented in the narrative,75 the Son symbolizes the Father through his words and actions. The Son is the primary symbol of God; Jesus is the symbol and the Father is the referent.76 The symbolization of Jesus as Son means that his words and actions represent and reveal the Father’s character. The symbolization of the human terms ‘son’ and ‘father’ makes the characterization of the Son and Father a literary phenomenon.77 In sum, the characterization of Jesus the Son and God the Father, through symbolic words and actions, is a powerful motif that undergirds John’s Christological Symbology. In this discussion ‘character development’ does not mean character change, modi¿cation, or moral development, but rather the gradual, progressive, or sequential unfolding of a character in the narrative. 72. Van der Watt, Family of the King, 278–89. However, Thompson notes that in the use of the term ‘father’, the idea of intimacy is less signi¿cant than kinship. Thompson, ‘God’s Voice You Have Never Heard’, 197. Robert Kysar describes Jesus’ Sonship as a ‘creative wedding of two themes’. According to Kysar, ¿rst, in Jewish thought, to be a son of God was primarily a matter of obedience, and, second, in Hellenistic thought, to be the son of God was to have the nature of deity in one’s person. Kysar concludes, ‘Hellenistic divine sonship was a matter of the essence of the person, while Jewish divine sonship was a matter of the function or behavior of the person. The evangelist has portrayed Jesus as the Son in a way that bridges the difference.’ Kysar, John the Maverick Gospel, 56. 73. Van der Watt, Family of the King, 289–96. 74. Ibid., 264. 75. The only words God speaks in the entire narrative are in 12.28. See also Culpepper, Anatomy, 113. 76. Culpepper views Jesus as a ‘symbolic representation of God’. Culpepper, Anatomy, 188. Schneiders sees Jesus as the ‘principal symbol of the Fourth Gospel’. Schneiders, ‘History and Symbolism’, 373. However, according to Lee, ‘Father’ is the primary symbol for God in the Gospel. Lee, Flesh and Symbol, 110. 77. Culpepper comments that ‘Father’ and ‘Son’ are ‘symbolic metaphors’ of the Fourth Gospel. Culpepper, Anatomy, 189. Lee views the term ‘Father’ as a symbol. D. A. Lee, ‘The Symbol of Divine Fatherhood’, Semeia 85 (1999): 177–87 (177). According to Diehl, the author of the Gospel combines attributes of God with the concept of ‘father’ to present to the audience both the transcendence and the immanence of God. J. A. Diehl, ‘The Puzzle of the Prayer: A Study of John 17’ (unpublished PhD diss., University of Edinburgh, 2007), 111.

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Marianne Meye Thompson explains that the emphasis of biblical literary scholars is not so much on what a character is, but on how the character is constructed and progressively coordinated.78 Thompson notes two outcomes of character development in the reading process. First, the sequential reading of the narrative is emphasized because readers meet a character successively through various episodes of the plot.79 Second, characters are strictly literary phenomena because they are constructed as the reader reads the text.80 Thompson therefore concludes that in a narrative, characterization can be developed, or a character can be portrayed as developing.81 Culpepper views the character of Jesus as static; it does not change, but only emerges more clearly in the narrative.82 The classic categorization of narrative characters into either Àat (static) or round (dynamic), however, results in the impossible task of having to ¿t Jesus into one or the other. Jesus obviously does not ¿t into only one category; if, as a Àat character, Jesus has only one dominant trait, one wonders 78. Thompson, ‘ “God’s Voice You Have Never Heard” ’, 180. According to Carter, main characters generally emerge as the plot progresses. Carter, John Storyteller, 47. Phelan describes character progression as the way in which narrative establishes its logic of forward movement. Phelan, Narrative as Rhetoric, 90. 79. McGaughey notes that symbols depend on the chronology and con¿guration of narrative; however, they are not contained by the narrative horizon. McGaughey, ‘Ricoeur’s Metaphor and Narrative Theories’, 431. 80. Thompson, ‘God’s Voice You Have Never Heard’, 180. Similarly, Merenlahti comments that information is strategically sequential ‘so as to make reading a character a process of discovery’; often in unexpected ways, characters gradually take shape and there is usually a notable distance between ¿rst and last impressions. Merenlahti, ‘Characters in the Making’, 54. 81. Thompson, ‘God’s Voice You Have Never Heard’, 182. Francois Tolmie observes development in the characterization of God as Father. First, he notes that the Prologue characterizes God in terms of his relationship with Jesus, and his relationship with human beings. Second, in 1.19–12.50, God is characterized primarily in terms of his relationship with Jesus; thus, the fatherhood of God receives the most emphasis in the second section of the narrative. Third, according to Tolmie, in 13.1–17.26, God is often characterized in terms of his relationship to human beings, particularly to the disciples. Last, in 18.1–21.25, the most important development is in 20.17, when Jesus tells Mary ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God’; for the ¿rst time in the narrative, God’s Fatherhood is directly linked to characters other than Jesus. Tolmie views 20.17 as the culmination of the characterization of God in the Fourth Gospel. Tolmie, ‘Characterization of God in the Fourth Gospel’, 60–75. Merenlahti proposes that characters in the Gospels ‘are constantly being reshaped by distinct ideological dynamics’. Merenlahti, ‘Characters in the Making’, 49–50. 82. Culpepper, Anatomy, 103. Culpepper’s characterization of Jesus as static is based solely on moral development. Ibid., 88.

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what that trait is. A Àat characterization of Jesus makes him a character that does not develop, one that is highly predictable, incapable of surprising the reader, and not inclined to further insight.83 In other words, as Àat, Jesus would be a ‘closed character’ who does not generate any exceptional expectations from hearer-readers. On the other hand, categorizing Jesus solely as round means that his characterization has no clear direction. Jesus’ character covers both Àat and round traits; as Àat, his characterization is structured and has clear direction, and as round, it is dynamic, expansive, an ‘inexhaustible object of contemplation’.84 The versatility of Jesus’ character is reÀected in the range of symbols that represent him. John Darr offers a helpful approach to understanding characters in a narrative sequence; he explains: ‘Like all narrative elements, character is cumulative. Thus, the means and timing of its accumulation must be taken into account by the interpreter…It is essential that we be cognizant at all times of the degree to which a character or a character group has been constructed at each point along the text continuum.’85 Taking Darr’s advice into consideration, this research recognizes the simultaneous, cumulative development of the characterization of Son and Father, and emphasizes their joint role in both the Johannine narrative and the con¿guration of John’s Christological Symbology. The joint characterization of Son and Father emerges in the narrative through the following symbolic clusters: (1) names and/or titles of Son and Father, (2) positions and/or actions of Son and Father, and (3) Christological symbols/symbolic language, and themes. The narrative characterizes the Son and Father though their names/titles, and shows 83. Forster’s description of Àat (static) characters is that they are easily recognized, do not need reintroducing, do not have to be watched for development, and are easily remembered by the reader afterwards. Forster, Aspects of a Novel, 105– 106. Forster comments that Àat characters are bad in biographies because the characterization of human beings is not simple. Forster, Aspects of a Novel, 111. Importantly, Hylen remarks, ‘The question then arises that if neither Greek nor Hebrew characters are simply Àat, static, and opaque, why must John’s characters be read in this way? While there are one-sided characters in antiquity, this no longer appears to be the only available option, and the reader of John should be prepared to encounter other possibilities’. Hylen, Imperfect Believers, 4. Cornelis Bennema’s proposal for a theory of character in the Gospel of John recognizes that many Johannine characters are not Àat, static, or one-dimensional; rather, they move along continua of three degrees—complexity, development, and inner life. C. Bennema, Encountering Jesus: Character Studies in the Gospel of John (Milton Keynes: Paternoster Press, 2009), 14. 84. Chatman, Story and Discourse, 133. 85. Darr, On Character Building, 42.

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how they relate to each other in their positions and actions; symbolism in the narrative provides insight into the divine relationship. The semantic range of names/titles and activities/positions of the SFR serves as a means of characterization and also facilitates symbolic meaning.86 The SFR gives Johannine symbolism semantic grounding within the text. The plot gradually unveils and enriches symbolism, while the characterization of the Son and Father gives symbolism semantic context. In sum, the multi-dimensional Son–Father characterization is central to the structure of both the Johannine narrative and its symbolism. 4.3.3. Symbolism and the SFR in Narrative Temporality and Transcendence In the Johannine narrative, a strong link exists, not only between time and the Son–Father characterization, but also between time and symbolism.87 A fascinating aspect about the Johannine plot is that it symbolically characterizes, within narrative temporality, the divine Son on an earthly mission, in close relationship with a Father who is suspended in transcendent time. Consequently, the SFR and related symbolism operate simultaneously in two time frames—transcendent and temporal.88 The Father dwells in transcendent time and enters into narrative time only through the words of the Son. The Son gives no indication of exactly when his activities with the Father take place in the narrative. The Father’s sending of the Son, usually expressed in the aorist form of ÈšÄÈÑ, takes place in transcendent time; however, the Son’s interactions with the Father during his ‘sending’ are usually expressed in present narrative time. The Johannine narrative gives the impression that the 86. See Wheelwright, who explains that symbolic meaning requires a semantic carrier and a semantic content. Wheelwright, ‘The Archetypal Symbol’, 215. 87. See Bruns, who argues that John uses time for its symbolic value. J. E. Bruns, ‘The Use of Time in the Fourth Gospel’, NTS 13 (1967): 285–90 (290). See also Maritz, who notes ‘active tensions’ between present time and eternity, pre-Easter events and post-Easter reÀection, narrative time and chronological sequencing. Maritz argues that these timeframes anchor John’s theological arguments. P. Maritz, ‘Some Time in John: Tensions between the Hour and Eternity in John 17’, Neot 41, no. 1 (2007): 112–30. 88. See Culpepper, who identi¿es ¿ve timeframes in John’s Gospel, namely, prehistorical past, historical past, narrative present, historical future, and eschatological future. Culpepper insists that none of these timeframes is large enough to reveal Jesus adequately. Culpepper, Anatomy, 106–107. Culpepper’s ¿ve divisions can be simply divided into temporal and transcendent. The historical past, narrative present, and historical future fall into the temporal zone, while pre-historical past and eschatological future ¿t into transcendent time.

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Son operates seamlessly between two time frames. An important issue to be considered in this discussion is how the Gospel is able to accommodate the transcendent SFR and symbolism within the constraints of narrative temporality. Douglas Estes explains that the Johannine narrative deals with the transcendent/temporal issue by ‘bending and shaping time as it sees ¿t’.89 One type of ‘time-bending’ occurs by using what Estes describes as ‘temporal referential words’ that ‘warp temporality’.90 According to Estes, an example of time warp can be seen in the Gospel’s use of two words depicting the SFR—ȸÌŢÉ and ÍĎŦË—which distort narrative temporality by going back to the pre-existent time frame in the Prologue.91 Another example of Johannine time warp occurs in 16.28, where the verse places Jesus in four time frames: Jesus has ‘come forth’ (ëÆšÉÏÇĸÀ) from the Father, ‘come’ (ìÉÏÇĸÀ) into the world, ‘leaves’ (ÒÎţ¾ÄÀ) the world, and ‘goes’ (ÈÇɼŧÇĸÀ) to the Father.92 Thus, 16.8 demonstrates how the narrative contains ‘a very high degree of temporal complexity’93 in its presentation of the SFR. The Johannine narrative controls time in order to portray transcendent symbolism within temporality. The ¿rst mention of time is in the Prologue (ëÅ ÒÉÏĉ), which refers to transcendent time long before Jesus enters into narrative time. Events in narratives usually create the order of time, and the Johannine narrative creates its order by beginning with transcendent time (1.1–5); hearer-readers are to comprehend Jesus in the context of transcendent time (eternity). The Prologue places the symbolic Son–Father characterization ¿rmly outside the con¿nes of narrative temporality, as throughout the narrative Jesus symbolically af¿rms that his identity is rooted in pre-narrative transcendent time. Added to this is the issue of complexity is intertextuality, as symbols are sometimes presented in context of Hebrew Bible characterizations of God, prophets, 89. D. Estes, The Temporal Mechanics of the Fourth Gospel: A Theory of Hermeneutical Relativity in the Gospel of John (Leiden: Brill, 2008), 138. Estes employs a paradigm of modern physics (relativity) to tackle the issue of temporality in the Gospel’s narrative and proposes a paradigm of time ‘that will both get around modern assumptions and shed greater light on the ancient text’. Ibid., 96. 90. Ibid., 208. 91. Ibid., 212. 92. Estes explains: ëÆšÉÏÇĸÀ connects the Son’s coming to the Prologue pointing to the ‘atemporal’ position of God and the temporal transit of the Son into creation (1.2–3); ìÉÏÇĸÀ refers to the Son’s incarnation (1.14); ÒÎţ¾ÄÀ takes the journey back to the Father through the cross (6.51; 8.28; 10.17–18; 11.50–52; 18.11); ÈÇɼŧÇĸÀ describes the future journey with nuances of the ascension. Ibid., 217–20. 93. Ibid., 9.

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and other divinely appointed leaders. The Son–Father characterization clearly extends beyond the con¿nes and immediate context of the Johannine narrative. Consequently, hearer-readers are constantly aware of transcendent time hovering over the temporal timeframe of the narrative. The Johannine narrative also controls time by repeating and interspersing within the narrative, groups of words linked by transcendence. For example, the Christological title ‘Son of Man’ regularly appears in close proximity to words like ‘ascent’, ‘descent’, and ‘eschatological judgment’ (1.51; 3.13–19; 5.27–30; 6.62; 8.26–28); in addition, repetitive use of ÈšÄÈÑ in the context of the Father constantly points hearerreaders to Jesus’ transcendent origin. Most of what Jesus says about himself, particularly in the Farewell Discourse and Prayer, is in transcendent time. Jesus’ departure from the world to the Father, his glori¿cation, prayers that will be answered from heaven in his name, and the sending of the Holy Spirit from above, all point to transcendent time. In the Farewell passages, transcendent language draws the hearer-reader out of narrative time into the transcendent world of the SFR. The concept of time in John’s narrative world is not strictly chronological or linear; rather, it is Àuid.94 Using Ricoeur’s terminology, John re¿gures time by interweaving temporal (narrative) and transcendent (pre¿gured) time, which results in con¿gured (Johannine) time. Johannine narrative time is con¿gured because temporal narrative cannot accommodate the transcendent nature of the SFR and Johannine symbolism; thus, John manipulates time for rhetorical and thematic effect.95 The transcendent symbols, however, do have historical dimensions, as noted by Margaret Davies, who observes that the Johannine narrative is structured by a concern for both history and eternity. Davies remarks, ‘The story which the Fourth Gospel tells, then, is intended to illuminate the eternal dimension of God’s creative purpose for his world’.96 Many of John’s transcendent symbols do have temporal dimensions that are

94. See Osborne, who states that in keeping with ancient historiography, the gospels were not concerned with chronological order of events, but rather desired to show the meaning and impact of Jesus’ life, so they organized the events in such a way as to provide a theological portrait of Jesus’ life and impact. Osborne, ‘Literary Theory and Biblical Interpretation’, 40. Estes argues that although events and times between the Prologue and epilogue of the Fourth Gospel cannot be aligned with absolute chronology, these events exist as ‘relatable dimensions across the movement of the text’. Estes, Temporal Mechanics of the Fourth Gospel, 252. 95. Tovey, Narrative Art and Act, 38. 96. M. Davies, Rhetoric and Reference in the Fourth Gospel (JSNTSup 69; Shef¿eld: Shef¿eld Academic Press, 1992), 44–45.

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manifested within narrative temporality.97 The transcendent symbols ¿rst appear in a semantic-lexical context within narrative time; in this sense they are set within narrative time. When Jesus explains or defends his ministry, he uses symbols within the historical and socio-cultural context of his earthly abode. Nevertheless, the Johannine narrative does not conform to narrative temporality; the Gospel’s transcendent portrayal of symbolism and the SFR manifests in strati¿ed time and cannot be solely contained by narrative temporality. In sum, although Johannine Son–Father characterization is shaped in and by the text, it clearly transcends the text. Interpreting the Johannine plot requires an intricate dance between symbolic transcendence and narrative temporality. Charting John’s Christological Symbology in the context of the SFR requires traversing transcendent and temporal timeframes, which results in a two-dimensional symbolic system. Even though the Johannine narrative is two-dimensional, it is crafted in such a way that hearer-readers are able to Àow with its Àuidity. The intersections between narrative temporality and symbolic transcendence contribute to the uniqueness of the Johannine narrative and also to John’s Christological Symbology. 4.3.4. SFR, Symbolism, and Rhetoric in the Johannine Narrative The aim of the Johannine narrative is to persuade hearer-readers to believe that Jesus is the Son of God and, thereby, receive life in his name (20.31). Johannine symbolism functions rhetorically to persuade hearerreaders of the validity of the Gospel’s unique presentation of Jesus in relationship with the Father who sent him. John’s rhetoric begins in the ¿rst chapter of the narrative with compelling symbolism and continues to the end of the narrative where the purpose of the Gospel’s rhetoric is revealed.98 Symbol and rhetoric intersect and are bound together within the Johannine narrative. John’s use of a symbolic narrative to persuade hearer-readers to make a decision about his presentation of Jesus reÀects Fisher’s theory that humans make decisions based not only on propositional reasoning, but also on ‘narrative reasoning’.99 Although Fisher’s theory is modern, it can

97. For example, water symbolism and glori¿cation/‘lifting up’ of Jesus appear in the historical event of the cruci¿xion (ch. 19); rejection/reception symbolism also plays in historical events within narrative time. 98. Phillips observes in the Prologue, a rhetorical process that establishes the point of view the reader is to adopt for the rest of the text. Phillips, ‘Rhetoric’, 256. 99. Fisher, Human Communication as Narration, 78.

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be applied to ancient narratives, which aim to persuade hearer-readers mainly through storytelling, and not primarily by rational, propositional, or logical arguments.100 The Fourth Gospel attempts to persuade hearerreaders through symbolic language, discourse, and actions. The Gospel narrates the story of Jesus as a ‘symbol-using’ teacher who uses symbols such as life, light, bread, water, shepherd, and vine, as tools of persuasion.101 The emphatic use of the terms ‘Son’ and ‘Father’ in the Gospel can also be viewed as tools of narrative persuasion which point to Jesus’ divine origin and mission.102 John’s unrelenting symbolic presentation of intimacy between Son and Father reveals a remarkable rhetorical strategy. Rather than propositional reasoning, the Gospel uses narrative reasoning aided by symbolism. The hearer-reader must comprehend the narrative’s symbolism in order to believe in Jesus as Son of God. John’s rhetorical strategy is highly symbolic; in the presentation of Jesus within the context of the SFR, narrative and symbol work together as a means of theological persuasion. 4.4. Summary The narrative analysis carried out in this chapter is to be used as the basis for developing a methodological framework for charting John’s Christological Symbology. The outline of the Gospel’s narrative structure will enable an innate ‘calling out’ of John’s Christological Symbology,103 100. For more on the gospels as rhetorical narratives, see also M. G. Duncan, ‘Rhetorical Narrativism: A Rhetorical-Critical Reading of the Early Christian Gospels’ (unpublished PhD diss., University of Memphis, 2009). 101. In 3.1–21, Jesus uses the symbols and symbolic language of birth, life, Son of Man, judgment, light, darkness, to explain to Nicodemus how he can enter the Kingdom of God and receive eternal life. A similar episode takes place in the following chapter (4.7–25), where Jesus uses the symbol of water to lead the woman of Samaria to believe that he is, ¿rst, a prophet, and second, the Messiah. 102. See Ringe who comments that John uses the term ‘Father’ as part of his rhetoric of persuasion. S. H. Ringe, ‘Reading Back, Reading Forward’, Semeia 85 (1999): 189–94 (191). 103. Michael Fishbane employs the phrase ‘call out’ in his advice to researchers on how to engage the biblical text. Making use of Hebraic analogy, Fishbane explains: ‘Miqra, the Hebrew word for Bible, properly means “calling out”. And what calls out from a text, what beckons and addresses a reader-hearer, if not its words?… For guided by it, the reader of the Bible will confront the repeated or key words and themes of a biblical text, and so enter that text on its own terms… Miqra is thus a “calling out” to follow the lead of a text’s words, themes and structures.’

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rather than imposing an alien design upon the text. Thus, this study actively engages the Johannine narrative by utilizing its inherent structure, style, and key words. The four elements of narrative analyzed in this chapter—plot, character, time, and rhetoric—are signi¿cant in that they enable the Johannine narrative to present a highly symbolic portrayal of the SFR. First, the plot’s organizing function contributes to the Gospel’s symbolic structure. The plot sequence directs appearances and reappearances of symbols in the narrative, thereby integrating Johannine symbolism. Second, the narrative characterization of Jesus and God as Son and Father respectively is unique to the Fourth Gospel; the plot simultaneously presents the Son and his Father as main characters. Jesus’ character combines traits from both static and dynamic categorizations; his character is dynamic, progressive, well structured, and moves the plot forward with clear direction. Third, time in the Johannine narrative is strati¿ed into two realms—transcendent and temporal. Thus, the narrative accommodates two levels of time, and at some points demarcation between the two is almost blurred. The re¿guring of temporality makes the Gospel adaptable to transcendent symbolism. Finally, the Gospel of John is designed to lead hearer-readers into a symbolic universe with the purpose of persuading hearer-readers that Jesus is the Son of God. Virtually all the Gospel’s symbols serve a rhetorical function. Apart from the Prologue and a few narrative asides, the persuasive force of the Gospel comes mostly from the words and actions of Jesus, who always identi¿es himself with the Father in a ‘symbolic SFR rhetoric’ that shapes John’s Christological Symbology. Because symbolism is integral to the distinctive structure of the Johannine narrative, the narrative holds important keys for identifying the symbolic network embedded in the Gospel. The four narrative elements discussed in this chapter (plot, character, time, and rhetoric), facilitate the distinct presentation of Jesus in context of the SFR. This narrative analysis forms the basis of the methodological framework for charting John’s Christological Symbology. The next chapter will develop the methodology for this research by using these four narrative elements.

M. Fishbane, Text and Texture (New York: Schocken Books, 1979), 141 (emphasis mine). Resseguie regards the biblical narrative as a unity and organic whole to be examined on its own terms. Resseguie, Narrative Criticism, 22.

Chapter 5

METHODOLOGY

5.1. Introduction The aims of a research project determine its method of inquiry, and when applied to the biblical text, the method should illuminate and explain the text.1 The aim of this study is to reveal the cohesive force behind the network of symbols in the Fourth Gospel. The study proposes that the SFR is the common denominator for Johannine symbolism. The research method chosen for this study will serve as an interpretative tool that reveals the function, pattern, and meaning of Johannine symbolism in context of the SFR. The methodological design for this research, therefore, focuses on the connection between the SFR and symbolism in the Gospel of John. This chapter outlines the methodological framework and the steps that will be used to chart John’s Christological Symbology through the Johannine narrative. The next two sections prepare the groundwork for the methodological approach. Section 5.2 explains the process of delineating a semantic ¿eld of reference for tracking the emergence of the SFR throughout the narrative. Section 5.3 examines ¿ve dimensions of characterization of the Son and Father in the Gospel; these ¿ve dimensions will be applied to the Prologue and Prayer in order to demonstrate how the SFR occupies a central position in the narrative. Section 5.4 outlines the methodological steps for this study, and explains how John’s Christological Symbology will be charted through the text. The chapter concludes with a brief summary in section 5.5.

1. S. Harstine, ‘To What End, Methodology?’, in What We Have Heard from the Beginning: The Past, Present, and Future of Johannine Studies (ed. T. Thatcher; Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2007), 123–25 (123).

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5.2. Semantic Field of Reference and Semantic Domains The ¿eld of reference delineates the lexical parameters for charting John’s Christological Symbology, which follows a semantic path in the narrative. This semantic ¿eld of reference comprises the full range of lexicology which portrays the SFR in the Gospel; the range covers areas in the narrative where names and/or titles of the Son or Father intersect with their actions and/or positions. Thus, the ¿eld of reference is based on the lexical pairing of Son and Father in the narrative. Passages containing high concentrations of SFR lexicology are referred to as ‘semantic domains’;2 semantic domains are passages dominated by points in the narrative where symbolism and the SFR intersect. Semantic domains reveal crucial points in the narrative where symbols emerge, develop, explain, or intensify the Gospel’s simultaneous presentation of the Son and Father; these domains are in form of pericopae, discourses, or chapters. As main characters, the Son and Father are closely linked in the narrative plot; therefore, they are semantically paired in the text. Paul Meyer, however, contends that although occurrences of ‘Father’ and ‘Son’ are frequent, the actual pairing of these terms as coordinates are infrequent; therefore, Meyer advises interpreters to ‘break the habit’ of coordinating the words Father and Son. Meyer cautions that until this habit is broken, the way God functions as Father cannot be clear.3 Meyer’s argument prompts the question of whether in John’s Gospel the Father can be understood apart from the Son, or the Son understood apart from the Father. Anderson defends the pairing of Father and Son, arguing that Meyer overlooks the mention of the Father’s sending the Son, which

2. This research heeds the caution given by Gilbert Van Belle and Sydney Palmer: ‘Style criticism has often focused on word counts and similar gatherings of statistical information, but scholars have become increasingly aware that such numerical frequencies in themselves say nothing. They need interpretation to be relevant… It is not the absolute uniqueness of a phenomenon that points to typical Johannine language but rather the exceptional frequency of the characteristic and the network of interconnections it establishes. Of these two characteristics, the development of networks may be more important than a word’s frequent appearance. G. Van Belle and S. Palmer, ‘John’s Literary Unity and the Problem of Historicity’, in John, Jesus, and History (ed. P. N. Anderson, F. Just, and T. Thatcher; 2 vols.; Leiden: Brill, 2007), 1:217–27 (222. emphasis mine). The semantic analysis carried out in this study con¿rms the ‘exceptional frequency’ of SFR lexicology and accompanying symbolism, and John’s Christological Symbology establishes their importance in the Johannine network of symbols. 3. Meyer, ‘The Father’, 263. 1

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occurs in all major parts of the Gospel. Anderson argues, ‘In nearly all of John’s narrative, dialogue, and discourse sections where the Father is mentioned, some aspect of the Son’s emissary mission is also narrated’.4 Apart from the above observation by Anderson, Meyer also fails to consider instances where Father and Son are represented in the narrative, using other names, designations, or titles.5 Even though the Son and Father are individual characters, it is virtually impossible to separate them semantically in the narrative. Names and Titles of the Son

Position and Actions of the Son

Names and Titles of the Father

Position and Actions of the Father

Figure 2. Semantic Field of Reference for the SFR

The ¿eld of reference for this study covers four areas: (1) names and titles of the Son, (2) names and titles of the Father, (3) actions of the Son in relation to the Father, (4) actions of the Father in relation to the Son.6 Within this ¿eld of reference are semantic domains that contain clusters of symbols/symbolic language and themes, which explicate the SFR.7 The names and titles of the Son are: ŦºÇË (‘the Word’; 1.1, 14), ÄÇÅǺ¼ÅŢË (‘Only Begotten’; 1.14, 18; 3.16, 18), ĝ ĶÅ (‘the One who Is’; v. 18),8 ĝ ÒÄÅġË ÌÇı ¿¼Çı (‘Lamb of God’: 1.29, 36), `¾ÊÇıË (‘Jesus’: 4. P. N. Anderson, ‘The Having-Sent-Me Father: Aspects of Agency, Encounter, and Irony in the Johannine Father–Son Relationship’, Semeia 85 (1999): 33–57 (37). 5. These include: 2.16–17; 3.16, 35; 5.19–23, 25–27; 6.27; 8.18–19, 42; 10.18, 25, 36–38; 14.14; 17.1; 20.17, 21. One could also include the 47 occurrences of the designation ‘Son of God’, where the terms ‘Son’ and ‘God’ not only appear in the same phrase, but also point directly to the SFR. 6. This ¿eld of reference includes personal pronouns representing the names/ titles and actions/positions of Son and Father. 7. The square brackets (and parentheses within square brackets) with ‘×’ indicate when the word(s) appear(s) more than once in a particular reference. Other square brackets (and parentheses within square brackets) indicate indirect references. 8. Abbot suggests punctuating the words ÄÇÅǺ¼ÅüË ¿¼ġË ĝ ĶÅ as though they were three distinct titles—ÄÇÅǺ¼ÅüË, ¿¼ŦË, and ĝ ĶÅ (quali¿ed by ¼ĊË ÌġÅ ÁŦÂÈÇÅ ÌÇı ȸÌÉġË). Abbott explains that the Greeks and Philo called God ‘that which is’ (neuter Ìġ ğÅ) and in Rev. 1.4, 8, John adopts the title for God. E. Abbott, Johannine Grammar (London: Adam & Charles Black, 1906), 55–56. Therefore, this study reads ÄÇÅǺ¼ÅüË, ¿¼ġË, and ĝ ĶÅ as three distinct titles. 1

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244 times), `¾ÊÇıË ÉÀÊÌŦË (‘Jesus Christ’: 1.17), ÉÀÊÌŦË (‘Christ’: 1.[20, 25], 41; [3.28; 4.25, 29; 7.26, 27, 31, 41 (×2), 42; 10.24]; 11.27; [12.34]; 20.31), ĝ ÍĎŦË9 (‘the Son’: 3.17, 35, 36 [×2]; 5.19 [×2], 20, 21, 22, 23 [×2], 25, 26; 6.40; 8.36; 14.13; 17.1 [×2]) ÄÇÅǺ¼ÅŢË ÍĎŦË (‘only begotten Son’: 3.16, 18) ÍĎġË ÌÇı ¿¼Çı (‘Son of God’: 1.34, 49; 3.18; 10.36; 11.4, 27; 19.7; 20.31), ÍĎġË ÒÅ¿ÉŪÈÇÍ (‘Son of Man’: 1.51; 3.13, 14; 5.27; 6.27, 53, 62; 8.28; 9.35; 12.23, [34 (×2)]; 13.31),10 ĝ ÍĎġË `ÑÊŢÎ (‘son of Joseph’: 1.45; 6.42), ĝ ׺ÀÇË ÌÇı ¿¼Çı (‘the holy one of God’: 6.69), ÈÉÇÎŢÌ¾Ë (‘prophet’: [1.21]; 4.19, 44; 6.14; 7.40, [52]; 9.17), and ģ¸¹¹À (‘rabbi’: 1.38, 49; 3.2, 26; 4.31; 6.25; 9.2; 11.8).11 In the Gospel, the primary title for God is ȸÌŢÉ (‘Father’), which occurs 120 times,12 while ¿¼ŦË13 (‘God’) occurs 83 times.14 The Father is also referred to as 9. According to Mlakuzhyil, in John, ĝ ÍĎŦË is used 17 times as an absolute title for Jesus; the title is used almost exclusively by Jesus himself. Mlakuzhyil, Christocentric Literary Structure of the Fourth Gospel, 261. Unlike the title ‘the Son of God’, which is sometimes used as a Messianic title, the absolute title, ‘the Son’, usually indicates the unique divine Sonship of Jesus to God the Father. Ibid., 264. 10. Mlakuzhyil states that ĝ ÍĎŦË ÌÇı ¿¼Çı may sometimes be used as a Jewish Messianic title for Jesus (e.g. 1.49; 11.27) or in the deeper theological sense as a Christian designation of Jesus as the true divine Son (e.g. 19.7; 20.31). According to Mlakuzhyil, the absolute ĝ ÍĎŦË in relation to ĝ ȸÌŢÉ always refers to Jesus’ divine Sonship (e.g. 3.17; 5.19–30; 14.13; 17.1), whereas ÍĎġË ÌÇı ÒÅ¿ÉŪÈÇÍ points to the human Jesus. This is clear from the fact that though both ‘the Son (of God)’ and ‘the Son of Man’ are said to be ‘glori¿ed’ (11.4; 17.1 and 12.23; 13.31 respectively), the former is never spoken of as ‘being lifted up’ as is the latter (3.14; 8.28; 12.34). Mlakuzhyil explains that because ‘the Son of Man’ has a mysterious heavenly origin (3.13; 6.62), this Christological title may be considered a theological bridge between the Messianic title ‘the Christ’ and the divine title ‘the Son’ (of God). Ibid., 270–71. 11. In John, ÁŧÉÀÇË (‘Lord’) is viewed primarily as a term of respect (‘sir’), so it is not included in this ¿eld of reference. ľË (‘light’) in vv. 1.7–9 is regarded as both as title and a symbol. 12. ‘Father’ occurs 120 times in 100 verses, 1.14, 18; 2.16; 3.35; 4.21, 23 (×2); 5.17, 18, 19 (×2), 20, 21, 22, 23 (×2), 26, 36 (×2), 37, 43, 45; 6.27, 32, 37, 40, 44, 45, 46 (×2), 56, 57 (×2), 65; 8.16, 18, 19, 27, 28, 38, 41, 42, 49, 54; 10.15 (×2), 17, 18, 25, 29 (×2), 30, 32, 36, 37, 38 (×2); 11.41; 12.26, 27, 28, 49, 50; 13.1, 3; 14.2, 6, 7, 8, 9 (×2), 10 (×3), 11 (×2), 12, 13, 16, 20, 21, 23, 24, 26, 28 (×2), 31 (×2); 15.1, 8, 9, 10, 15, 16, 23, 24, 26 (×2); 16.3, 10, 15, 17, 23, 25, 26, 27 (×2), 28 (×2), 32; 17.1, 5, 11, 21, 24; 18.11; 20.17 (×3), 21. 13. Thompson comments, ‘ “God” is not a name. In fact the Johannine God has no name. Even though the Gospel several times says that God has given his name to Jesus, we are never told what that name is. God’s name is to be found, apparently, only through Jesus.’ Thompson, ‘God’s Voice You Have Never Heard’, 189. 14. ¿¼ŦË is used for the Father 76 times in 63 verses: 1.1 (×2), 2, 6, 12, 13, 18, 29, 34, 36, 49, 51; 3.2 (×2), 5, 16, 17, 21, 33, 34 (×2), 36; 4.10, 24; 5.18 (×2), 25, 42, 44; 1

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ĝ ÈšÄÐ¸Ë (‘the one who sends’): 4.34; 5.24, 30, 37; 6.38, 39, 44; 7.16, [18], 28, 33; 8.16; 9.4; 12.44, 45, 49; 13.20; 14.24; 15.21; 16.5).15 The Son’s actions in relation to his Father include, his being with the Father (1.1–2, 18; [16.32]; 17.5), coming from the Father (7.28; 8.42; 13.3; 16.27, 28, 30; 17.8), coming from heaven (6.38, 50, 51, 58, 62), coming in the Father’s name (5.38), going or ascending to the Father (7.33; 13.1, 3; 14.1, 12, 28; 16.10, [17], 28; 17.11, 13; 20.17), working in the Father’s name (10.25), showing the Father’s works (10.32), doing the Father’s works (10.37–38), explaining the Father (1.18), giving salvation and eternal life or taking away sin (1.12; 3.17, 29, 36; 5.21), doing the Father’s will (4.34; 6.38–40; [9.31]), pleasing the Father (8.29), seeking the Father’s will (5.30), seeking the Father’s glory (7.18), glorifying the Father (17.4), equality or unity with the Father (5.18; 10.30, 33, 38; 14.10–11, 20; 17.11, 21, 22, 23), seeing the Father work (5.19; 8.38), seeing the Father (6.46), hearing the Father (5.30; 8.26; 15.15), living by the Father (6.57), knowing the Father (7.29; 8.55; 10.15; 17.25), judging with the Father (8.16), speaking for the Father (8.28, 38; 14.24), honoring the Father (8.43), obeying the Father (8.55; 14.31) doing the Father’s work (9.4; 17.4), receiving the Father’s commandment (10.18) is the way to Father (14.6), asking from the Father (14.16; 17.15, 20), loving the Father (14.31), sending the Spirit from the Father (15.26), speaking plainly of the Father (16.25), manifesting the Father’s name (17.6, 26), giving the Father’s word (17.14), and drinking the Father’s cup (18.11). In the Father’s actions relating to the Son, the Father is with the Son (8.29; 16.32), gives the Son (3.16; 6.32), gives to the Son (3.35; 5.22, 26, 27, 36; 6.37, 38; 10.29; 13.3; 17.2, 6, 7, 8, 9, 11, 12, 22, 24; 18.11), sends the Son (3.17, 34; 4.34; 5.24, 30, 36, 38; 6.29, 38, 39, 44, 57; 7.16, 6.27, 28, 33, 45 (×2), 46, 69; 7.17; 8.40, 41, 42 (×2), 47 (×3), 54; 9.3, 16, 24, 29, 31 (×2), 33; 10.33, 35, 36; 11.4 (×2), 22 (×2), 27, 40, 52; 12.43; 13.3 (×2), 31, 32 (×2); 14.1; 16.2, 30; 17.3; 19.7; 20.17, 31; 21.19. 15. According to Meyer, ‘God is referred to as “the Father” (absolute) 74 times; with the possessive “my/your [sg.]” (always with Jesus as the antecedent), another 25 times; with the addition of “who sent me/him” another 7 times; in the anarthrous nominative/vocative of prayer, 9 more times; and as an (anarthrous) predicate, 3 times. This yields a total of 118 occurrences of “Father” for God. For purposes of comparison, one may note that God is referred to with ¿¼ŦË (“God”) only 45 times; this count does not include the 31 instances of ¿¼ŦË as a genitive modi¿er (as in ĝ ÍĎŦË ¿¼Çı), “the Son of God” [19 times], ÌšÁŸ ¿¼Çı, “children of God” [2 times], ĝ ÒÄÅġË ÌÇı ¿¼Çı, “the Lamb of God” [12 times], etc.), nor the use of ¿¼ŦË as a predicate (1.1; 8.54) or predicate accusative (10.33), but it does include all uses of ¿¼ŦË with prepositions (22 times) and the one vocative (20.28).’ Meyer, ‘The Father’, 269. 1

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[18], 28, 29, 33; 8.16, 18, 26, 42; 9.4; 10.36; 12.44, 45, 49; 13.20; 14.24; 15.21; 16.5; 17.3, 8, 18, 21, 23, 25; 20.21), loves the Son (3.35; 5.20; 10.17; 17.23, 24, 26), works with the Son (5.17), shows the Son his actions (5.20, 21), testi¿es of the Son (5.37; 8.18), seals the Son (6.27), teaches the Son (8.28), glori¿es the Son (8.54; [12.28]; 13.31–32; 17.1, 5), is glori¿ed in the Son (14.13), hears the Son ([9.31]; 11.41–42), knows the Son (10.15), sancti¿es the Son (10.36), gives commandment/ speaks to the Son (10.18; 12.49–50), honors those serving the Son (12.26), abides in the Son (14.10), and sends or gives the Spirit in the Son’s name (14.26; 15.16). The Gospel narrative contains several semantic domains for the SFR that are connected to clusters of symbols and symbolic language. These domains include 1.1–18; 5.17–47; 6.26–65; 7.17–39; 8.12–59; 10.14–38; 12.27–50; 14.1–31; 15.1–10; 15.21–16.15; 16.23–33; and 17.1–26. The above mapping of the semantic ¿eld of reference and identi¿cation of semantic domains of the SFR provides a narrative blueprint for charting John’s Christological Symbology. 5.3. Narrative Development of the Characterization of the Son and Father The semantic analysis provides data for the character analysis of the Son and Father whose characterization develops simultaneously in the Gospel narrative through the emergence and expansion of Johannine symbols. The Son–Father characterization is cumulative as each sequential episode reveals or reiterates dimensions of the relationship through new or prior symbolism. As the Son–Father characterization develops, Johannine symbolism expands into a network, which in turn intensi¿es the characterization; consequently, a reciprocal relation exists between characterization and symbolization, constituting a narrative path for charting John’s Christological Symbology. The development of the Son–Father characterization, therefore, plays a crucial role in charting the Symbology. The close interaction between Son and Father is an important factor in the simultaneous progression of their characterization. This study views the character development of the Son and his Father in terms of their relationship with each other, which can be examined in ¿ve dimensions, namely: (1) equality/unity, (2) sending/coming of the Son, (3) life-giving authority, (4) love, and (5) glori¿cation/revelation.16 16. These dimensions follow the general order of their appearance in the Prologue. 1

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5.3.1. Equality and Unity Jesus’ oneness and unity with the Father conveys equality in the SFR. In this study, the notion of equality is located in the transcendent relationship between Son and Father.17 The mutual dependence of Son and Father in accomplishing their mission to humanity also conveys equality. Themes of oneness, unity, and equality recur throughout the Gospel, appearing in strategic points of the narrative. The Prologue commences the Son–Father characterization by emphasizing their oneness (1.1–3). Their unity is conveyed in the terms of pre-existence (1.1–2), intimacy (1.1–2, 18), co-labor in creation (1.3), and shared glory (1.14). Nicodemus in 3.2 reiterates the notion of Jesus being with God, which was introduced in 1.1–2. As the narrative progresses, Jesus constantly stresses and explains his exclusive relationship of oneness with the Father, particularly during conÀict episodes with the Jewish religious authorities. For example, in 5.17–19 the theme of unity heightens when Jesus’ professes equality with God in defense of his blatant breaking of Jewish Sabbath laws. Jesus in ch. 5 purposefully heals the lame man at the Pool of Bethesda on the Sabbath to demonstrate that he and the Father are working together—he is only doing what he sees the Father doing. Jesus’ claim of equality with God sets into motion the religious leaders’ plan to kill him.18 The theme of equality and unity in the SFR reaches a critical point in another conÀict scene (10.30), where Jesus defends his Messiahship and unequivocally declares his equality with God by declaring, ‘I and the Father are one’. Jesus then explains his oneness with the Father in numinous terms—he is in the Father and the Father is in him (10.38). In 12.44–45, another conÀict scene, Jesus again declares his equality with God.19 In the remainder of the narrative, unity in the SFR develops mainly in the Farewell Chapters. In his ¿nal teaching session with the disciples, Jesus explains that knowing and seeing him (Jesus) is equal to knowing and seeing the Father for they indwell each other (14.7–11, 20).20 In 14.23–24, both Son and Father indwell believers, and the words of the Son are words of the Father. Echoing 1.1–2 and 18, Jesus assures his 17. The idea of subordination in this study is understood in terms of the Son’s obedience (see sections 5.3.2 and 10.4.1). 18. ‘For this reason therefore the Jews were seeking all the more to kill him, because he not only was breaking the Sabbath, but also was calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God’(5.18). 19. ‘He who believes in me does not believe in me but in him who sent me. He who sees me sees the One who sent me’ (12.44). 20. In 8.19 Jesus accused his opponents: ‘You know neither me nor my Father; if you knew me you would know my Father also’. 1

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disciples that the Father is with him (16.32).21 The unity of Son and Father reaches a height in the Prayer, where Jesus prays for restoration of the preexistent glory he shared with the Father (17.5). Unity is also expressed in the Son and Father’s joint possession of all things, including the divine name (17.10–11). Jesus then prays that the disciples become one just as he and the Father are one (17.11). In 17.21, unity in the SFR extends to the community of faith as Jesus prays for the unity of believers. Perfect unity will take place when Jesus imparts the glory he shares with the Father to believers (17.22–23). With the inclusion of believers into the SFR, the theme of unity in the Son–Father characterization reaches its peak in the narrative.22 5.3.2. Sending and Coming of the Son Mark Appold aptly explains the sending of the Son in the following words: ‘The Father’s oneness with Jesus is present in terms of his sending the Son and the Son’s oneness with the Father in terms of his coming as the manifestation of God among men’.23 Jesus emphasizes his sending by constantly referring to the Father as ĝ ÈšÄÐ¸Ë (‘the One who sends’). Thus, the Father’s characterization as ĝ ÈšÄÐ¸Ë is intertwined with the motif of the sent Son; the Son continuously refers to his coming into the world from the Father. In 1.14, the phrase ȸɊ ȸÌÉŦË indirectly hints at the Son coming ‘from the Father’.24 However, the ¿rst clear and direct declaration of Jesus coming from God is mentioned by Nicodemus in 3.2; for Nicodemus, Jesus’ signs are proof that he (Jesus) has come from God. In the Nicodemus encounter, the primary reason the Father sends his Son is to save the world (3.16–17). The Baptizer is the ¿rst person to speak of Jesus coming ‘from above’ and ‘from heaven’ (3.31). The Son’s coming is mentioned for the ¿rst time in the narrative by Jesus himself when he declares that he has come in his Father’s ‘name’ or authority (5.43). The Father’s act of giving the Son his name signi¿es the Son’s agency (sending) and authority. The theme of the Son and Father sharing the divine name also develops in the narrative with the Son doing the following in the Father’s name; he: comes (5.43; 12.13), performs 21. Here Jesus repeats what he said earlier in 8.29. 22. The theme of Jesus’ coming from and departing to the Father also denotes oneness and intimacy. 23. Appold, Oneness Motif in the Fourth Gospel, 283. 24. If ëÉÏŦļÅÇÅ in v. 9 is viewed as a periphrastic construction, it may indirectly refer to the Son’s coming into the world to offer divine light to humanity. The Son’s coming is also inferred in 1.10–11, but 1.14 is the ¿rst mention, in direct connection with the Father, of the Son’s coming. 1

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signs (10.25), and keeps the disciples (17.12); Jesus also glori¿es (12.28) and manifests (17.6, 26) the Father’s name. In addition, believing in the Son’s name is necessary for receiving salvation (1.12; 2.23; 3.18; 20.31), both Father and Son answer prayers made in the Son’s name (14.13–14; 15.16; 16.23–24, 26), and the disciples will be persecuted because of the Son’s name (15.21). The symbolic Bread of Life discourse in ch. 6 expands the motif of Jesus’ coming from heaven. After miraculously multiplying barley loaves and ¿sh, Jesus feeds ¿ve thousand people and uses this symbolic act to con¿rm his sending from the Father. First, Jesus reminds his hearers of the manna that fell from heaven to feed the Israelites in their wilderness journey, and he then declares himself to be the ‘Bread of Life from heaven’. Unlike the wilderness manna, which gave only temporary physical sustenance and not spiritual life, Jesus is the true bread who has come from heaven to give spiritual life; whoever ‘eats’ this bread will never die (6.33, 50, 51, 58). According to 6.38, Jesus’ coming as Bread of Life ful¿ls the Father’s will. The symbolic characterization of Jesus as Bread of Life from the Father instigates another conÀict episode where Jewish authorities dispute and reject Jesus’ claims of divine origin (6.41– 43). In ch. 7, against the background of his Sabbath-breaking act, Jesus connects his coming from God to his Messianic and prophetic mission (7.26–27, 31, 41–42). In ch. 8, the Son makes the strongest personal attestation to his coming; he knows from where he has come—God the Father—though his antagonists do not know this fact (8.14, 42).25 While the opposition refuses to believe Jesus’ persistent assertions of coming from the Father, Mary of Bethany gives the narrative’s strongest profession of belief in the sent Son, and she ¿rmly establishes the messianic purpose of Jesus’ coming in her declaration: ‘I have believed that you are the Christ, the Son of God, He who comes into the world’ (11.27).26 The narrative gives insight into how both Son and Father are impacted by the sending. The sending Father is honored/dishonored (5.23), recognized/unrecognized (7.28; 12.45; 15.21), believed (5.24; 12.44), and received (13.20). In addition, the Father testi¿es to the Son’s sending (5.37; 8.18), requires belief in the sent Son (6.29), the sending Father 25. ‘I know where I came from and where I am going’ (8.14). ‘I proceeded forth and have come from God, for I have not even come on my own initiative, but he sent me’ (8.42). 26. The author uses Mary’s profession of faith, ‘I have believed that you are the Christ, the Son of God, He who comes into the world’, to declare his narrative purpose (20.31). Also in 4.25–26, Jesus is the coming Messiah, prophet (6.14), light (12.46–47), and king (12.13; 18.28). 1

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draws believers to the Son (6.44), the sending Father is always with the Son (8.29), and the sending Father sancti¿es the Son (10.36). With regards to the Father, the sent Son speaks his words (3.34; 7.16; 8.26; 12.49; 14.24), seeks his will (4.34; 5.30; 6.38, 39), is the only one who has seen him (6.46), lives because of him (6.57), seeks his glory (7.18), knows him (7.29), will return to him (7.33; 16.5), judges with him (8.16), comes on his initiative (8.42; 12.49), and does his works (9.4). In addition, the Son’s works prove the Father sent him even though some do not believe (5.36, 38), and the Son prays audibly to the Father so that hearers may believe that he, the Son, is sent (11.42). Every reference to the sending of the Son by the Father implies that the Son’s coming is an act of obedience to the Father; the Son himself constantly portrays his coming as an act of obedience to his Father’s will, and declares his dependence on him to accomplish that will.27 Although not explicitly stated, the thought could be surmised that the Father depends on the Son’s obedience for accomplishing the divine mission, therefore, the Son and Father can be described as mutually dependent on each other. The Father, who is unseen and virtually unheard in the narrative, utterly depends on the obedience of the incarnate Son to make him known, and for the success of their joint mission to bring divine life to humanity. From the Farewell chapters onward, the theme of Jesus’ coming from the Father develops within the context of his departure to the Father (13.3).28 In 16.28, Jesus makes his ¿nal announcement of departure, ‘I came forth from the Father and have come into the world; I am leaving the world again and going to the Father’.29 In response, the disciples ¿nally voice their belief that Jesus has come from God (16.30). The motif of sending concludes in the Prayer, where eternal life entails knowing both the Sender and the Sent (17.3), and the Son declares that his disciples believe he is sent from the Father (17.8, 25). In the Prayer, Jesus sends the disciples as the Father sent him (17.18),30 and the unity of the disciples is proof to the world that the Father sent the Son (17.21, 23). Most of Jesus’ references to his sending occur before the Last Supper, and appear in episodes where he counters the unbelief in his 27. See 5.19, 30; 6.38–40, 57; 7.16–18, 28–29; 8.28–29, 38, 42; 10.18; 12.50; 14.10, 31; 15.10; 17.4. 28. Departure of the Son occurs in 7.33–35; 8.14, 21–22; 13.33, 36; 14.2–5, 12, 28; 16.5, 7, 10, 17; 17.13; 20.17. 29. In the Prayer, Jesus proleptically sees himself as ‘no longer in the world’ (17.11). 30. The sending of the disciples by Jesus takes place in 20.21. 1

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antagonists, particularly in chs. 6–9, where the Jewish religious authorities challenge Jesus’ claims of divinity, sonship, agency, and authority to heal on the Sabbath. In contrast, references to the sent Son in the Farewell chapters are fewer and explanatory; they occur at the end of the narrative to con¿rm and explain the Son’s agency from the Father. 5.3.3. Life-Giving Authority The prevailing theme of eternal life in the Gospel of John is closely connected to the SFR. The theme begins in 1.4 where the ŦºÇË, later revealed as the Son, is portrayed as giving life to humanity. Following this portrayal, 1.12–13 indirectly refers to life from the Father through the Son, as the Son is described as giving people the right to be born of God. The characterization of the Son sent from the Father to give life continues in Jesus’ encounter with Nicodemus where the phrase ½ÑŢ ¸ĊŪÅÀÇË (‘eternal life’) occurs for the ¿rst time. Those who believe in the Son given by the Father obtain ½ÑŢ ¸ĊŪÅÀÇË (3.15–16, 36).31 The Sabbath controversy in ch. 5 also characterizes the Son and Father as united in the act of giving life. In this Sabbath-breaking event, Jesus declares that he and the Father jointly participate in the act of bestowing life (5.21, 24– 29). Believing in Jesus’ teaching means believing in the Father, which leads to eternal life; furthermore, the life in the Son is the same life that resides in the Father.32 Chapter 6 also symbolically depicts the Son as the Father’s mediator of life. Using the miraculous multiplication of bread as the basis for his teaching on eternal life, Jesus repeatedly declares himself to be the ‘Bread of Life’ (6.35, 48, 51). This teaching takes a controversial turn when Jesus insists that his hearers partake of eternal life by ‘eating’ his Àesh (6.51, 53–54). As a result, the Jews grumble, some of Jesus’ disciples forsake him, and for the ¿rst time the ominous subject of Judas’ betrayal appears in the narrative. Chapter 10 further develops the theme of eternal life in the SFR. The Son’s bestowal of eternal life is symbolized in the portrayal of the Good Shepherd, who in collaboration with the Father lays down his life for the sheep.33 In the Good Shepherd symbolism, eternal life is referred to as abundant life (10.10); the Son-Shepherd procures abundant life by 31. In Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman, eternal life from the Son is symbolically portrayed in terms of drinking water and the water forming a spring within the receiver (4.13–14). 32. Like the Father, the Son gives life (5.21). Whoever believes in the Father who sent his Son Jesus, has eternal life (5.24), as the Father has life so also he enables the Son to have life (5.26). 33. See: 10.15, 17–18. 1

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sacri¿cing his life (10.11), thus signifying his cruci¿xion. In 14.6, Jesus declares: ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but through me’; Jesus, thereby states that access to life from the Father comes only through the Son. The Prayer is a high point in the narrative development of the motif of eternal life. Jesus refers to his God-given authority to bestow eternal life; eternal life is de¿ned as knowing ‘the only true God and Jesus Christ’ (17.2–3). Therefore, experiencing eternal life occurs by believing in both Father and Son. The theme of eternal life culminates in the author’s declaration of the Gospel’s purpose: ‘These things have been written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God and that believing you may have life in His name’ (20.31). 5.3.4. Love The Prologue introduces Jesus’ Sonship by ascribing to him the term ÄÇÅǺ¼ÅŢË (‘unique, only begotten’, 1.14).34 The phrase ÄÇÅǺ¼ÅÇıË È¸ÉÛ È¸ÌÉŦË (‘only begotten from the Father’) places Jesus’ Sonship in the context of love and intimacy in the SFR.35 ÇÅǺ¼ÅŢË appears again in 1.18, where the love between Son and Father is expressed in spatial, physical terms that portray them in a most intimate familial position. ÇÅǺ¼ÅŢË ¿¼ġË ĝ ĶÅ ¼ĊË ÌġÅ ÁŦÂÈÇÅ ÌÇı ȸÌÉġË (‘only begotten who is in the bosom of the Father’) is an expansion and explication of the divine intimacy hinted at in 1.1–2. ÇÅǺ¼ÅŢË occurs only two more times in the narrative (3.16–18). In Jesus’ encounter with Nicodemus, ÄÇÅǺ¼ÅŢË is combined with ÍĎŦË,36 and is thereby directly connected to Jesus’ unique Sonship. John 3.16 expands the concept of love in the term ÄÇÅǺ¼ÅŢË as the Son declares that the Father loves the world by giving his only begotten Son. Because of the special love the Father has for the Son, the Son is the most costly sacri¿ce he can give for the salvation of the world (3.16–18). 34. For further explanation of ÄÇÅǺ¼ÅŢË in terms of ¿lial love, see section 7.4.4. Caird comments, ‘What Jesus communicates is a new style of sonship, a style of what it means to know God as Father, which comes directly out of his own experience’. G. B. Caird, New Testament Theology (ed. L. D. Hurst; New York: Oxford University Press, 1994), 403 (emphasis mine). 35. According to Witherington, John does not merely emphasize the Son’s personal uniqueness but also his pedigree; Jesus is the sole natural descendant of the Father. Witherington continues, ‘The issue here is not means or manner of birth but lineage and family connection… In short, the word monogenes means…the only kin of God who is also God or the sole descendant of the Father.’ Witherington, Many Faces of Christ, 172. 36. ĎġÅ ÌġÅ ÄÇÅǺ¼Åý (3.16) and ÌÇı ÄÇÅǺ¼ÅÇıË ÍĎÇı ÌÇı ¿¼Çı (3.18).

1

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The Baptizer’s testimony in 3.35 is the narrative’s direct mention of love in the SFR—‘the Father loves the Son and has given all things into His hand’; this verse portrays divine love in terms of the Father giving all things to the Son.37 In 5.20, for the ¿rst time in the narrative, Jesus himself mentions the Father’s love for him when he declares that the Father expresses his love of the Son by showing him all he (the Father) does.38 John 10.17 extends the dimension of love in the SFR to the cruci¿xion—the Father loves the Son because the Son sacri¿ces his life for the sheep. In 14.31, the Son’s love for his Father is stated in the context of the Son’s unquali¿ed obedience.39 Finally, the Prayer informs hearerreaders that the Father’s love for the Son existed long before his incarnation (17.24). The aim of divine love in the SFR ultimately becomes clear in the Prayer, where Jesus prays for believers to partake of the Father’s love for him; the Son has made the Father’s name known, allowing the divine love in the SFR to reside in all who believe in the Son (17.23, 26). 5.3.5. Glori¿cation and Revelation According to Diehl, the term »ŦƸ carries symbolic connotations in the Gospel.40 The theme of glory, which is closely connected to the SFR, begins in the Prologue; in 1.14, the Father and Son share divine glory. ǻŦȟĮ in the Gospel of John may denote the visible manifestation of God in the Son’s working of miraculous signs, the glory of the Son’s cruci¿xion, or the reciprocal honor between Father and Son. The Gospel portrays the Son as revealer of the Father’s glory; as ÄÇÅǺ¼ÅŢË, Jesus is the only one who has seen the Father,41 and is the one who makes God’s glory known (1.14, 18). The Son reveals his glory in his ¿rst miraculous sign of turning water into wine (2.11). The raising of Lazarus from death reveals God’s glory, and the Son also is glori¿ed in this miraculous act (11.4, 40). 37. The Father as a ‘giving’ character is another theme developed in the narrative as the Father gives the Son the following: all things (3.[27], 35; 13.3; 17.7), authority to judge (5.22, 27), life (5.26), works (5.36; 17.4), believers (6.37, 39, 65; 10.29; 17.6–7, 9), commandment (10.18; 12.49), authority (17.2), words (17.8), and glory (17.22). 38. John 5.20 is the only verse where ÎÀÂšÑ (not Òº¸ÈŠÑ) expresses love in the SFR. 39. John 14.31 is the only occurrence where the Son explicitly declares his love for the Father; however, his love for the Father is reÀected in all his acts of obedience and his constant self-identi¿cation with the Father. 40. Diehl, ‘Puzzle of the Prayer’, 209. 41. Jesus also refers to his knowing the Father in 3.11, 32; 4.10; 5.32; 7.29; 10.15; 13.3. 1

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Chapter 12 links the theme of honor to the Son’s cruci¿xion and exaltation (12.27–28). In ch. 13, both Son and Father are glori¿ed in the cruci¿xion (13.31, 32). Several references to »ŦƸ denote honor, reverence, and esteem; for example, in 5.23; 11.4; 14.13, Son and Father share the same honor. In the ¿rst part of the narrative, the honor of Father and Son appears mostly in conÀict scenes where the Son seeks the Father’s glory (7.18; 8.49, 50), and the Father honors the Son (8.54). The glory motif peaks in the Prayer where »ÇÆŠ½Ñ occurs ¿ve times and »ŦƸ three times. The hour arrives for the Son to be glori¿ed and he prays to the Father for glori¿cation (17.1). The Son af¿rms he has glori¿ed the Father by completing his assigned works (17.4). The Son asks for a return to the pre-existent glory he had with the Father (17.5). The Son prays the disciples will see his glory (17.24), and ¿nally, he is honored by the Father’s act of giving believers to him (17.10). The idea of the Son as the Father’s revealer is a developing theme throughout the narrative. Unlike the world, the Son knows the Father, has been taught by the Father,42 and speaks and teaches43 what he has learned from the Father.44 Jesus also uses claims of privileged knowledge of God to refute disputations of the Jewish religious leaders. As the only one who has seen the Father (6.46), the Son knows the Father while his opponents do not (5.37; 7.28; 8.55; 10.15; 17.25). Interestingly, at the beginning of the Farewell Chapters, Jesus’ disciples have not grasped the truth that, as Son, he is the ultimate revelation of the Father. In ch. 14 Jesus’ verbal exchange with Philip shows the dif¿culty the Son encounters in making the Father known even among his own disciples (14.7– 11). John 14.9 marks the high point of Jesus’ revelation of the Father; he has not only revealed the Father through words and actions—he is the de¿nitive revelation of the Father.45 In 14.20, Jesus tells his disciples that complete revelation will come with the eschatological dispensation of the Holy Spirit. The Prayer culminates the characterization of the Son as Revelator of the Father—he has made the Father’s name known and will continue to make it known (17.26).46 42. See 5.19, 21, 30. 43. According to Hoo, there is a correlation between the unfolding of the Johannine narrative and how he teaches. Hoo comments, ‘The prominent motif of Jesus as the one sent from above to the world below to reveal the Father is a mapping of the narrative’s forward progression’. Hoo, ‘The Pedagogy of the Johannine Jesus’, 260 (emphasis mine). 44. See 7.17–18; 8.26, 27, 38; 10.32; 12.49–50; 14.10, 11, 24, 25; 15.15; 17.7–8. 45. ‘He who has seen me has seen the Father’ (14.19). 46. Presumably, this will happen through the work of the Holy Spirit. 1

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5.3.6. Summary The above Son–Father characterization in ¿ve dimensions begins in the Prologue, where, as the principal characters, they are introduced respectively as ŦºÇË and ¼ŦË. The Son is ingeniously and indirectly introduced as ŦºÇË, giving readers a vivid impression of his person and mission in close relationship with the Father.47 The steady unfolding of the Son–Father characterization takes place primarily through the Son’s words and actions, reaching a narrative peak in the Prayer. In the Prayer, a purpose of the divine relationship ¿rst delicately introduced in the Prologue is made clear—those who believe in the Son sent by the Father are drawn into the divine relationship. This analysis in ¿ve dimensions shows that the Prologue and Prayer are strategic in the Gospel’s characterization of the Son with the Father. 5.4. Methodological Steps The methodological steps for this study will be carried out within the two frameworks which have been developed in the preceding chapters, using symbol and narrative theories. First, the theory of symbolism created for this research is applied to the Prologue. The four theoretical principles of symbolism (representation, assimilation, association, and transcendence) will be applied to 1.1–18 in order to demonstrate how the passage simultaneously introduces the SFR and Johannine symbolism. The second step is to perform a narrative analysis on the Prologue in the following order: (1) a plot analysis showing how the centrality of the SFR begins in the Prologue, (2) a semantic analysis that outlines the ¿eld of reference for the SFR in the Prologue, showing that it is a semantic domain for the SFR and accompanying symbolism, (3) a character analysis establishing the pairing of Son and Father in the narrative, and (4) a time analysis explaining the transcendent-temporal timeframe in the Prologue’s symbolic portrayal of the SFR. The third step in the method applies semantic

47. See N. R. Petersen’s explanation that in 1.14–18 the Father/Son system takes over from the Word system and subsequently, in the narrative, the Word’s ‘becoming Àesh’ is displaced by the notion of the Son who was sent by and is going back to the Father. Petersen also notes that in the system, the link of the relationship to the Prologue is maintained. N. R. Petersen, The Gospel of John and the Sociology of Light: Language and Characterization in the Fourth Gospel (Oregon: Wipf & Stock, 2008), 66. Petersen divides Jesus’ Christological titles into three sets of systems: (1) the Word and the Son of God, (2) the Son of Man and the bread of life, and (3) the Light and prophet or Messiah. Ibid., 62. 1

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and character analyses to the Prayer;48 these two analyses will show how the simultaneous presentation of symbolism and the SFR reaches a narrative peak in the Prayer. The capstone of the methodological design is the fourth step, which entails applying a symbological synthesis to the entire Johannine narrative. This synthesis will chart the development of the SFR and connected symbolism in every chapter in the narrative, leading to the unveiling of John’s Christological Symbology. The Symbology is sequentially illustrated in symbographs, which illustrate symbolic clusters depicting the SFR. The ¿fth and ¿nal step in the research method comprises a theological synthesis that reÀects on the implications of the Gospel’s symbolic presentation of the SFR. In sum, the methodological steps for unveiling John’s Christological Symbology consists of the following: (1) a theoretical analysis of the Prologue, (2) a narrative analysis of the Prologue, (3) a narrative analysis of the Prayer, (4) a synthesis charting John’s Christological Symbology throughout the narrative, and (5) a theological synthesis of the study. The ¿ve steps are further explained in the sections below. RESEARCH METHOD Theoretical and Narrative Analyses

Symbological Synthesis

Theological Synthesis

The Prologue: Theoretical and Narrative Analyses

John’s Christological Symbology: Convergence of the SFR and Symbolism in the Gospel of John

Theological Signi¿cance of the SFR

The Prayer: Narrative Analysis

The Need for a TheoSymbolic Reading of the Gospel of John

Figure 3. Methodology

48. Theoretical plot and time analyses are applied only to the Prologue and not the Prayer for the following reasons: (1) the theory of symbolism demonstrates the centrality of the SFR and connected symbolism in the Johannine narrative—from the Prologue onwards the narrative maintains this centrality, (2) as the introduction to the Gospel, the Prologue introduces and establishes plot of the Gospel while the Prayer draws it to a close, and (3) the time analysis of Prologue clearly demonstrates the Àuidity of temporal and transcendent time in the Gospel’s presentation of the SFR. 1

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5.4.1. The Prologue and the Prayer The Prologue and Prayer occupy strategic positions in the structure of the Johannine narrative.49 These two passages also contain similar clusters of symbols, and, as a result, they are pivotal passages for charting John’s Christological Symbology.50 The Prologue subtly and stylistically unveils the transcendent relationship between the Son and Father,51 which takes place through a cluster of symbols and symbolic language. The last verse of the Prologue declares that the ministry of the Son is to reveal the Father, a task he accomplishes through symbolic words and actions. Thus, the Prologue introduces several key symbols and symbolic language that are intricately woven into the sequence of the narrative. The methodology for this study follows the narrative design of the Johannine text; the Prologue is the Gospel’s introduction, not only for the SFR, but also for the diverse array of symbols depicting Son and Father. The Prologue ingeniously introduces the narrative plot, SFR, symbolism, and the transcendent-temporal timeframe, which are all signi¿cant in shaping John’s Christological Symbology. The Prayer culminates the Son’s teaching ministry in the Gospel; this passage is the last semantic domain in the narrative with a dense cluster of symbolism. Much of the symbolism of the SFR in the Prologue recurs in the Prayer, which also includes the ¿nal appearance of some of the Gospel’s symbols. John’s Christological Symbology peaks in ch. 17 before tapering off in the Passion narrative.52 The Prologue and Prayer are the main narrative anchors for John’s Christological Symbology because they are at opposite ends of the narrative, encapsulating the teaching ministry of Jesus, and they contain fairly similar clusters of symbols. 49. This research recognizes that passages such as 7.16–29; 8.12–59, and 9.7–38 are key passages for the SFR and are important in the Symbology. However, the Prologue and Prayer are selected as the two primary passages for analysis because of their strategic positions in the narrative’s overall presentation of the SFR, and the similarity of symbolic clusters in both passages. 50. Lee recognizes this connection: ‘In symbolic terms, however, the two can be seen as fundamentally connected… The correlation between the two passages can be seen symbolically at a number of levels.’ D. A. Lee, ‘Response: The Prologue and Jesus’ Final Prayer’, in Thatcher, ed., What We Have Heard, 229–31 (230). 51. The lack of direct SFR language may be seen as a point of objection for using the Prologue as a primary text. However, this methodology follows the narrative design of the Johannine text, which uses the Prologue as an introduction for the SFR, diverse array of symbolism, specialized terminology, themes, and intertwine of temporality and transcendence, which all play signi¿cant roles in the Gospel’s presentation of the SFR. 52. Chapters 18 to 21 feature in the Symbology and validate the argument that symbolic representations of the SFR reach their highest point in the Prayer. 1

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5.4.2. Theoretical Analysis This part of the research method applies the theory of Johannine symbolism to the Prologue. The aim of this theoretical analysis is to identify how the principles of representation, assimilation, association, and transcendence give meaning to the symbolism of the Prologue through its presentation of the SFR. Symbolic presentation identi¿es the initial symbols connected to the SFR in the Prologue, whereas representation identi¿es their reappearances in the same passage. ReÀection explores how readers may arrive at symbolic meaning, while resemblance reveals similarities between the symbols, and the Son or Father who are referents of these symbols. The principle of assimilation examines the Hebraic and Greek pre-semantic origins of SFR symbolism; assimilation also examines how the Son or Father assimilate with their symbolic representations. Interpretative assimilation recognizes verses in the Prologue where symbolic representations of Son and Father may be resisted or accepted by hearer-readers of the narrative. The third principle, that of association, explains how symbols in the Prologue associate with other ¿gures of speech in order to portray the SFR. The fourth principle examines the concept of transcendence. Semantic transcendence recognizes points in the Prologue where SFR symbolism is not con¿ned to the semantic structure of the narrative. Dualistic transcendence explores the Prologue’s presentation of the transcendent origin and abode of the Son, and notes how both characters maintain their transcendent relationship during the Son’s earthly ministry. Revelatory transcendence identi¿es the transcendent realities the author conveys about the SFR, and explains how symbols function as vehicles of revelation for the SFR. Transformative transcendence shows how transformation may occur when hearerreaders interpret and believe the symbolic representations of the SFR, and the message of life conveyed through Johannine symbolism. 5.4.3. Narrative Analysis 5.4.3.1. Semantic Analysis. The semantic analyses of the Prologue and Prayer establish that these two passages are key semantic domains for the SFR. The quantitative breakdown of Son–Father lexicology substantiates the pervasiveness of the SFR in the two passages. The semantic range also discloses areas of the texts where characterization and pairings of Son and Father are not obvious. This analysis creates a semantic path for charting John’s Christological Symbology.

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5.4.4. Plot Analysis This analysis forms part of the narrative framework used for demonstrating the strong connection between Johannine symbolism and the SFR. Plot analysis outlines the Prologue plot, which is a preview of the Gospel plot and serves as the narrative backdrop for the sequential emergence of the SFR and connected symbolism. Plot analysis, therefore, shows the narrative path followed by John’s Christological Symbology. 5.4.5. Character Analysis Character analysis examines the ¿ve dimensions of the Son–Father characterization in the Prologue and Prayer, and also establishes the ubiquitous presence and pairing of Son and Father throughout the entire narrative. The Son–Father characterization also gives Johannine symbolism context and theological meaning. The character analysis constitutes the qualitative part of the methodology, and in a clear and coherent manner reveals distinctive attributes of the SFR. 5.4.6. Time Analysis Time analysis examines the Prologue’s role of introducing the SFR within the Johannine transcendence-temporality timeframe. This analysis shows how the Prologue’s portrayal of the SFR is aided by creatively narrated shifts between transcendent and temporal time. The time analysis follows the sequential outline of the Prologue plot. 5.4.7. Symbological Synthesis This synthesis uses observations and conclusions gleaned from the theoretical and narrative analyses to chart John’s Christological Symbology. The symbological synthesis sequentially charts the narrative development of the Son–Father characterization through the entire Gospel, thus establishing the centrality of the SFR. The synthesis also identi¿es symbolic clusters connected to the SFR as it emerges in the narrative. 5.4.8. Theological Synthesis John’s Christological Symbology shows that the Gospel’s symbolism is undeniably, intricately linked to the SFR. The Johannine narrative and its symbolic network has one primary theological aim, which is clearly articulated in Jn 20.31, namely, for hearer-readers to believe in Jesus the Christ, the Son of God, and in doing so experience eternal life. The theological synthesis will bring John’s Christological Symbology into 1

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theological focus by highlighting some matters connected to this study. First, is the signi¿cance of the centrality of the SFR in the Johannine text and its implications for the community of faith. Second is recognition of the need for a theo-symbolic reading in order to understand fully the Gospel of John. Third, this synthesis considers three theological issues which may be considered for further research. In sum, the theological reÀection reveals the contribution of John’s Christological Symbology to biblical and practical theology. 5.5. Summary John’s Christological Symbology will be charted by following a methodological approach that follows the narrative design of the Gospel. The task of creating the method for this research begins with the connection between narrative, SFR, and symbolism. Observations made in the plot, semantic, character, and time analyses, which show how the narrative features of the text intersect with SFR and symbolism, will facilitate the charting of John’s Christological Symbology. Analyses of the Prologue show how the introductory passage launches both the SFR and symbolism, while the Prayer analysis reveals the highest point of the SFR and associated symbolism. The Prologue and Prayer, therefore, ¿rmly anchor John’s Christological Symbology in the Gospel narrative. The theoretical analysis of the Prologue aids symbolic interpretation by revealing how symbolism expounds the SFR. The theory also shows different ways readers may arrive at symbolic meaning. The narrative analyses in both the Prologue and Prayer shed light on SFR-symbolism dynamics in the narrative. Semantic analyses reveal the lexical proximity between the SFR and symbolism by paying close attention to lexical patterns, repetitions, and emphases. Qualitative and quantitative data derived from the analyses of the two passages will facilitate the mapping of John’s Christological Symbology throughout the entire Gospel, thereby demonstrating the strong link between the SFR and symbolism. The method concludes with a synthesis that presents a theological reÀection, which evaluates the centrality of the symbolically portrayed SFR and its signi¿cance for the community of faith. In conclusion, this methodological process will reveal the consistent presence of the SFR and connected symbolism in virtually every chapter of the Gospel. The crown of this study is the presentation of the symbolically portrayed SFR through John’s Christological Symbology, which shows how the SFR occupies a central place in the narrative plot, 1

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symbolic network, and theological purpose of the Gospel. The ¿rst part of this research concludes with this chapter, and the second part applies the methodology (outlined above) to the Johannine text. Chapters 6 to 8 analyze the Prologue and Prayer, Chapter 9 maps out John’s Christological Symbology, and Chapter 10 concludes with a discussion of the theological implications of the entire project.

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Chapter 6

THE PROLOGUE: THEORETICAL ANALYSIS

6.1. Introduction This chapter utilizes the theory of Johannine symbolism formulated for this study to establish the link between the SFR and symbolism, and show how the connection undergirds the Gospel’s symbolic network. When applied to the Prologue, the theory reveals a striking literary design, whereby Johannine symbolism indirectly and gradually introduces the two main characters, ¿rst as the ŦºÇË and God (vv. 1–2), and ¿nally as Son and Father (vv. 14, 18). The theoretical analysis in this chapter demonstrates how the beginning of the Johannine narrative symbolically presents the SFR in a ‘show and tell’ manner. The theory, which comprises four theorems, namely, representation, assimilation, association, and transcendence, also explains how hearer-readers participate in the interpretative process.1 The chapter concludes with a summary. 6.2. The Principle of Representation 6.2.1. Presentation Symbolic presentation reveals the initial presentation of symbols and symbolic language in the narrative. Due to its introductory position, the Prologue contains several initial symbolic presentations, such as ½Ñü, ÎľË, ÊÁÇÌţ¸, ÁŦÊÄÇË, and ÊŠÉÆ. The passage also features initial presentations of symbolic terms and themes;2 in addition, words occur in the Prologue which do not recur in the remainder of the Gospel narrative, 1. The interpretative process described in this analysis is hypothetical and reÀects ways in which interpreters may apprehend symbolic meaning. 2. Words with symbolic connotations in the Prologue include the following: ĸÉÌÍÉţ¸, ÈÀÊ̼ŧÑ, Ò¾¿ÀÅŦË/ÒÂŢ¿¼À¸, ìÉÏÇĸÀ, ºÀÅŪÊÁÑ, ¸ĹŠÅÑ/ȸɸ¸ĹŠÅÑ, ëÆÇÍÊţ¸, ÌšÁŸ ¿¼Çı, ěÅÇĸ, º¼ÅÅŠÑ, ¿¼ŠÇĸÀ/ĝÉŠÑ, »ŦƸ, ÄÇÅǺ¼ÅŢË, ÅŦÄÇË, ÑŨÊýË, and »ţ»ÑÄÀ.

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but introduce symbolic themes, which are developed as the narrative progresses.3 Initial presentations of symbols and symbolic expressions introduce characteristics of the Son and Father, who are usually referents of the symbols. The symbolic presentations in vv. 1–4 introduce Jesus’ divinity, preexistence, and role as creator in context of his relationship with the Father (ëÅ ÒÉÏĉ, ÂŦºÇË). Verses 1–4 narrate aspects of Jesus’ mission from the Father, such as his authority to give life and light to humanity (½Ñü, ÎľË). Verse 5 depicts the Son as the Light, who is victorious over darkness (ÊÁÇÌţ¸, Á¸Ì¸Â¸Ä¹ŠÅÑ). Verses 6–8 indirectly and symbolically introduce, through the Baptizer, the Father’s role as a witness to the authenticity of his Son’s person and ministry (ĸÉÌÍÉţ¸, Ò¾¿ÀÅŦÅ, ÈÀÊ̼ŧÑ). Verses 9–13 introduce more aspects of the Son’s mission, for instance, people’s reactions of rejection and reception, his divine name, and his partnership with the Father in leading people to become children of God (ìÉÏÇĸÀ, ÁŦÊÄÇË, ºÀÅŪÊÁÑ, ¸ĹŠÅÑ/ȸɸ¸ĹŠÅÑ, »ţ»ÑÄÀ, ëÆÇÍÊţ¸, ÌšÁŸ ¿¼Çı, ěÅÇĸ, º¼ÅÅŠÑ). Verse 14 introduces the symbol of Àesh and themes of incarnation (ÊŠÉÆ, ÊÁ¾ÅŦÑ); this verse also introduces hearer-readers to the concept of the Son’s glory as a manifestation of the Father’s glory (¿¼ŠÇĸÀ/ĝÉŠÑ, »ŦƸ, ÄÇÅǺ¼ÅüË). The second testimony of the Baptizer in vv. 15–17 stresses the authenticity and superiority of the Son’s agency from the Father (ÅŦÄÇË, ÑŨÊýË, »ţ»ÑÄÀ). The Prologue’s pièce de résistance is v. 18, where the two main characters are at last directly presented as Son and Father; this verse points to the primary role of the Son’s mission on earth, which is to make the Father known (ëƾºšÇĸÀ). The symbolic presentations in the Prologue establish the centrality of the Son and Father in the Johannine narrative and prepare the audience for symbolic re-presentations of the SFR. 6.2.2. Re-Presentation Re-presentation expands and expounds symbolism previously introduced in the narrative. The Prologue contains several re-presentations, for example, the symbolic term ¸ĹŠÅÑ, which carries Christological implications in the Gospel. In the Prologue, the ¿rst occurrence of ¸ĹŠÅÑ is in the word Á¸Ì¸Â¸Ä¹ÚÅÑ (v. 5),4 which points to conÀicts the Son encounters in his earthly mission. In v. 11, ¸ĹŠÅÑ is embedded in the word ȸɸ¸ĹŠÅÑ, signifying the refusal of Jesus’ own people to 3. Examples include ëÅ ÒÉÏĉ and ÂŦºÇË (preexistence and divinity), Á¸Ì¸Â¸Ä¹ŠÅÑ (conÀict and rejection), and ëƾºšÇĸÀ (revelation and teaching). 4. ¸Ì¸Â¸Ä¹ŠÅÑ is a strengthening of ¸ĹŠÅÑ, and means ‘to seize or grasp’ especially in a hostile manner. TDNT, 4:5–7.

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receive him.5 Next, ¸ĹŠÅÑ is re-presented in an opposite scenario where the word symbolizes those who do recognize and receive Jesus (v. 12). Verse 12 informs hearer-readers that the act of receiving the Son is equivalent to believing in the name of the Son; those who receive and believe in the Son become children of God (v. 13). The next re-presentation of ¸ĹŠÅÑ is in v. 16, where unidenti¿ed witnesses who received the Son testify of their encounter of receiving measures of divine grace (v. 17). As the narrative progresses, it becomes clear that ¸ĹŠÅÑ points to the importance of receiving and thereby believing in the Son sent by the Father. In the Prologue, the symbolic term ¸ĹŠÅÑ answers the following question: What should the hearer-reader do with the Son sent from the Father as symbolically presented and re-presented in the Johannine narrative? According to the Prologue, the answer is, receive and believe in him. 6.2.3. ReÀection Symbolic reÀection evokes correlations between symbols and their referents, leading to symbolic meaning. In the act of interpretation, hearer-readers reÀect on possible socio-cultural or theological backgrounds underlying Johannine symbolism. Most symbols and symbolic expressions in the Gospel have been assimilated by both Hebrew and Greek cultures; these multicultural backgrounds give deeper insight into symbolism that represents the SFR. The unique manner in which the Prologue uses the term ÂŦºÇË has attracted scholarly attention and speculation. The symbolic signi¿cance of ÂŦºÇË is evidenced by the observation that it is the ¿rst title ascribed to the Son in relationship with the Father; in addition, this special word appears as a title for the Son only in the Prologue.6 The term ÂŦºÇË has a wide philosophical and theological semantic range. Greek and Jewish philosophers used ÂŦºÇË in a special way; equivalent terms for this word appear in both Jewish scripture and rabbinic literature. Scholars have, therefore, suggested that

5. ¸É¸Â¸Ä¹ŠÅÑ means agreement, approval, or acceptance. BDAG, 768. The word appears two other times in the Gospel—14.3 and 19.16. 6. The conspicuous absence of the title ŦºÇË in the rest of the Gospel attests to its symbolic import in the Prologue. No consensus exists as to why John uses ŦºÇË as his ¿rst designation for Jesus, nor do scholars agree on the origin of John’s use of the term. However, in the Gospel, the nomenclature signi¿es Jesus’ divinity, agency, and role as co-creator with God. According to Tovey, the Prologue establishes a strong association between the ŦºÇË and the name and person of Jesus. See D. Tovey, ‘Narrative Strategies in the Prologue and the Metaphor of ŦºÇË in John’s Gospel’, Paci¿ca 15 (2002): 138–53 (138–49).

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John utilizes the term because of its wide spectrum and its use within the ¿rst-century Mediterranean milieu.7 Stoics viewed the ÂŦºÇË as the supreme principle of the universe, the force that originated, permeated, and directed all things;8 thus, Stoicism equated ÂŦºÇË with the concept of God.9 ŦºÇË was also used by Gnostics, who merged the Stoic ÂŦºÇË with Plato’s idea of the World Soul and the Demiurge who created the world.10 Stoic and Gnostic understanding of ÂŦºÇË shows a range of correspondences to the concepts of divinity and creation. The Hellenistic concept of ÂŦºÇË inÀuenced Jewish theology through the works of Jewish philosopher and exegete Philo (20 BCE–50 CE), who used the term ÂŦºÇË over 1,300 times in his writings.11 Among Philo’s several descriptions of ÂŦºÇË are the following: Word, Eternal Word, most ancient Word, First-born Word, Word of the First Cause by whom the whole world was made;12 the Beginning, the Name of God, eldestborn image of God;13 chief messenger, uncreated, mediator;14 second deity;15 and light.16 The wide range of correspondences between the Philonic and Johannine use of the word ÂŦºÇË includes the ideas of divinity, creation, agency, and sonship.17 It is possible that in the Prologue, 7. See Keener: ‘Whether the term came from the author or elsewhere, whoever applied it to this text did so to communicate something within a speci¿c cultural framework’. Keener, Gospel of John, 1:339. Also Phillips: ‘The author of the Prologue, then, consciously uses a term that resonated with contemporary religious discussion. Indeed, the word seems to be part of a whole host of religious languages—Jewish, Christian, Stoic, Hermetic, Gnostic’. Phillips, The Prologue of the Fourth Gospel, 106. 8. D. J. MacLeod, ‘The Eternality and Deity of the Word: John 1:1–2’, BSac 160 (2003): 48–64 (55). See also Keener, who notes that Stoics believed the passive principle in the universe was matter and the active principle, which is identical to God, was the Logos. Keener, Gospel of John, 1:341–43. 9. H. Kleinknecht, ‘The Logos in the Greek and Hellenistic World’, in TNDT, 4:84–85. 10. See Keener, Gospel of John, 1:342. 11. Richard Niessen, ‘The Contrast between John and Philo on the Essential Nature of the Logos’ (ETSP 1032; TREN, 2005), 1–17 (1). 12. Fug. 95; LA 3.204; Post. 102; Plant. 1.18, 20; Sacr. 1.8; Conf. Ling. 1.146– 47. 13. Conf. Ling. 1.146–47. 14. Her. 205. LA 3.177–78; Fug. 5–6; QE 2.13. 15. QE 2.62. 16. Op. 31; Abr. 47; LA 3.45. 17. One major difference between Johannine and Philonic concepts of ÂŦºÇË is that John’s ŦºÇË is personal, incarnate, historical, living and dying on earth as a 1

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John uses the term ÂŦºÇË because Hellenistic/Philonic concepts of the word point to the divinity of the ŦºÇË and his relationship with God in the Gospel narrative. Many scholars believe attention ought to be given to the Hebrew Bible and Jewish Wisdom literature for the background of the Johannine ŦºÇË.18 An obvious connection between Gen. 1.1 and the Prologue can be identi¿ed in the use of the phrase ëÅ ÒÉÏĉ; this phrase also appears in the LXX’s version of the creation story.19 The Hebrew Bible portrayal of Wisdom in the act of creation is also a possible background for the man, while Philo’s ÂŦºÇË is impersonal. Dodd, Interpretation, 73. However, Brown believes that both writers shared a common background of biblical traditions and modes of thinking. Brown, Introduction, 130. 18. See W. Bindemann, ‘Johannesprolog: Ein Versuch, ihn zu verstehen’, NovT 37/4 (1995): 331–54 (331); C. L. Blomberg, The Historical Reliability of John’s Gospel: Issues and Commentary (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2001), 73; Evans, Word and Glory, 81–83; M. M. Thompson, ‘ “Every Picture Tells a Story”: Imagery for God in the Gospel of John’, in Frey, Van der Watt, and Zimmermann, eds., Imagery in the Gospel of John, 259–77 (260); A. I. Tsousterov, ‘Glory, Grace, and Truth in John 1:14–18’ (PhD diss., University of St. Andrews, 2004); U. C. von Wahlde, The Gospel and Letters of John. Vol. 1, Introduction, Analysis, and Reference (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 413; B. Witherington III, John’s Wisdom: A Commentary on the Fourth Gospel (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1995), 52–53. 19. Gen. 1.1 (LXX) reads,