notes on John

notes on the Gospel according to John

somewhere in the Dolomites, Italy.

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John 1

1.37 Two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. Andrew and (probably) John left John to follow Jesus. This caused some problems later on (3.26). John refuses to mention himself in his Gospel, so we assume the intentional anonymity of the second disciple points to John.

There is no specific calling of disciples in John except for the Philip in 1.51. Andrew and John leave John for Jesus, Andrew finds Peter, and Philip finds Nathanael.

The only description of how Jesus met any of his disciples is in chapter 1. Judas is first mentioned in 6.71 and Thomas in 11.15, but there is no record of how they came into the group. Bartholomew, Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James are never mentioned.

The disciples named most often—and hence the ones with apparently the most involvement and visibility—are Peter and Philip: interesting, because in the other Gospels Philip is mentioned only once per book: in the list of the Twelve.

There is no full listing of the Twelve in John’s Gospel, and there are only four references to the Twelve at all: 6:67, 70, 71, and 20.24. The most extensive listing of the disciples is in 21:2:

Gathered there were Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples.

Here, only Simon Peter, Thomas, and Nathanael are named. James and John are referred to indirectly as the “sons of Zebedee.” Judas Iscariot was dead, so that leaves four who are missing from this final encounter with Christ in the Gospel of John. But, the two not identified might be left nameless because they were disciples, but not Disciples, which would mean only five of the Twelve were there.

In John, there is no mention of James by name and no mention of the inner three as a group (Peter, James, and John).

John 3

3.10 Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things? Jesus is not saying this was a new thing. This is the way God has always operated. The shock is that a teacher of Israel doesn’t now how things work.

3.18 those who do not believe are condemned. Everyone, including the Jews, including the leaders of the Jews, who do not believe are condemned. The thing that matters is not Jew/Gentile, but believer/unbeliever.

Since they are condemned already, a positive personal response is required from everyone... and in particular, a positive personal response to Jesus.

No one gets in based upon what they think they deserve. For a leader of Israel, this is a devastating truth. There is no evidence Nicodemus believed it entirely. 

3.26 all are going to him. The disciples of John are jealous that Jesus is getting more attention than their master. It might have been loyalty to John; it might have been dissatisfaction that after all they had done this other guy was getting all the credit.

The disciple John was likely one of the two disciples that left John for Jesus in 1.27, so he had a unique perspective on this. But in Matt 20.20-26 John asked Jesus for preferential treatment. This event is not recorded in the Gospel of John. John’s statement in 3.30 that I must decrease is apparently lost on the disciple John.

3.29-30 rejoices, my joy. Not an emotional joy. John’s life was miserably difficult. His “joy” is the opposite of his disciples’ jealousy. There was nothing in John’s work or life that he regretted, nothing in Jesus’ life or work that he envied, nothing in the hardship that he thought unreasonable or worthy of being noticed by God or anyone else.

No reward, no repayment, no recognition. The only other person who did it was Paul:

Phil 1.18-21: Christ is proclaimed, whether out of false motives or true, and in that I rejoice, and I will continue to rejoice. It is my eager expectation that I will not be put to shame, but that by my speaking with all boldness, Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.

Phil 4.11-13: I have learned to be content with whatever I have. I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

Joy is contentment in the place God has assigned you. Joy is grateful for anyone who proclaims Christ, regardless of motive, because it is about Christ, not you or them. Joy expects nothing, asks for nothing, boasts in the opportunity to work for no payment. Paul said he would rather die than take anything from them: 1 Cor 9.15.

John 4

4.35 open your eyes! The disciple is not allowed to see the world with human eyes. Jesus is going to leave them: they will be expected to finish the work. To walk on dully, eyes down, seeing nothing but the ground in front and feeling only their own human needs, disqualifies them for anything important. Acting as if this is a continuation of their previous life, thinking they have no responsibility for whatever happens, empties the word “disciple” of any significance and means there is no hope: if they don’t see, who will?

The translation is taken from the NIV. The NRSV has here: look around you and see how the fields are ripe for harvesting. Far too weak. And not a good translation. Lift up your eyes (NASB, ESV) is more literal than open your eyes, but open your eyes has a force in English that is particularly accusatory, so it fits better. Still, lift up your eyes also has something important to say about “the path”. Following Jesus and seeing only a dirt road in front of you is astonishingly backwards and myopic.

John 6

6.33-35 “The bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” They said to him, “Sir, give us this bread always.” Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”

Compare this to Jesus speaking to the disciples at the well. “I have food to eat that you do not know about.” Jesus has a contentment that they can also have. He has a view of life and of God that they can also have. He has a destiny and purpose that they can also have. But it starts with stopping thinking like a civilian.

The people of God—and in particular the Twelve—cannot think of themselves as regular people who happen to be the people of God. If they live, eat, and think like natural people, then they are natural people. They have no spiritual sense, no awareness, no sense of purpose or destiny. They are just existing. Surviving until they die.

If they are truly God’s people, they cannot be like those who are not God’s people. They must be different. They cannot have the world’s desires; they must have God’s. They cannot have plans and ideas and dreams that are not God’s.

Jesus is not just the bread. He also has his own bread. And he has bread he wants to give. Yes, it is accepting Jesus as God, but it is also accepting his food: his way of thinking, his desires, his dreams, his goals, his values.

In the wilderness temptation, when Jesus said “man does not live by bread alone”, he was saying that in a very real sense. He was starving. For him to say “man does not live by bread alone” was to say he was not going to eat. The reason he was not going to eat was because he was not going to sell his birthright for a bowl of soup. He was not on earth just to survive. He was on earth to live! And that required him doing everything necessary to connect his earthly life with his eternal life. The ”bread” that gets us through this life is knowing that this life is not the end of it. What happens here is only a small part of the whole thing. The “bread all the time” is also the “bread for all time”. It is the same bread, now and forever. The bread now is no different from the bread then. The bread here is no different from the bread there. “Now” matters. The Esau perspective says that “now” matters, and therefore I must eat. The Jesus perspective says that “now” matters, and therefore I must not eat. “Now” matters because it is connected with, and part of, and integral to, eternity. “Now” either preserves or destroys eternity. The view that we can live as we want now and start living in eternity after death is a lie. The view that we can have what we want now and also have what we want in eternity is a lie. It is the lie of Satan; it is the failure of Esau, it is the anesthetic assurance of the modern pastor.

Jesus says that eating “that” bread saves our life now… but destroys everything of value. His bread requires not eating “that” bread. His rest requires not resting. His peace requires war. His love requires hate. His joy requires anguish. His wealth requires poverty. His life requires death.

“Bread” is whatever gives us a full stomach, contentment, comfort. Jesus has a bread that makes those things so unimportant that they are repulsive.

Jesus has a hunger he wants to give us, and he has a bread he wants to give us to satisfy that hunger. His bread give a contentment and satisfaction and comfort that no one can know until they have first taken on his hunger.

The contentment of this world and the contentment of God cannot exist side by side. One is the gift of Satan; one is the gift of God. Jesus’ temptation was for a purpose. It was to show that his hunger had purpose. It was to show that his hunger was much more important than anything his body was screaming for. His life would be daily denial, not that he went without, but that it all was so very unimportant.

Listening to your body means your passions tell you how to live, what to see, where to go, when to stop. Life is seeing, and you can’t do that if you’re focused on feeding. Life is obeying, and you can’t do that if you’re focused on feeding. Phil 3.18-20:

Many live as enemies of the cross of Christ; I have often told you of them, and now I tell you even with tears. Their end is destruction; their god is the belly; and their glory is in their shame; their minds are set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven.

In Phil 4.11-12 Paul says he has learned the secret of being content. Paul is not saying the secret is learning to live with little without envying those who have plenty, or learning to live with plenty without being sidetracked by it. That is a human struggle no one can win: it will fail.

Paul is saying his hunger is a different hunger and is satisfied by a different food. The human desires and needs are still there, but the hunger God has given is exceedingly more powerful and is not satisfied with mere food or things. In fact, those things prevent him from being content because his hunger is satisfied only by the “food” God gives, and that food is not given if he is also gratifying his human desires. Those other things are a pathetic and depressing alternative, and would never leave him contented.

[What does it mean: water gushing up so we will never thirst? Bread from heaven? We take them as nothing but spiritual talk. What good is it? What difference does it make? Possibly the reason we don’t understand the text is that we don’t know what this water and bread are. Did we have a thirst that Jesus satisfied? Do we have a hunger that Jesus replaces with something better? Do we have Jesus’ thirst? Do we have Jesus’ hunger? I think not. I think we accept the words without having any idea what they mean.

Jesus had a bread that was something other than the bread the disciples went into the city to buy. Their search for bread meant their human desires overwhelmed everything else. They didn’t see the woman, they didn’t see the people in the city. More than that, they didn’t think it was their job to see. They thought they we just people going around with Jesus.

When Jesus said he had bread they didn’t know of, he meant exactly that: They had no idea that such a thing existed. They reason they didn’t know is because they thought their reason for living was to live. Just like everyone else. To survive until death, and then hope for something after. Jesus was telling them there was something more. Something they needed to open their eyes to see. And so long as they existed as just normal people, they would never see, because they would never think it was supposed to be their job, they would never see what God was trying to do in the world, they would never see what God was trying to do through them.

Food is more than just nutrition. It is the satisfaction of a full stomach, a time to relax, be with friends, be quiet, enjoy life. Food can be comfort, adventure, romance. It can also be escape, indulgence, selfishness, anger. Food shared with someone your dislike is miserable. It is better to eat alone. The disappointment is double: that you must be close to someone you don’t like, and that you lose the contentment of enjoying your meal. Prov 17.1: Better is a dry morsel with quiet than a house full of feasting with strife.

The water and the bread is not a spiritual thing. It is a real thing. It is a life where our human needs and desires and dreams are put aside. Because so long as we are driven by our human needs, we are worth nothing to God. God CANNOT accomplish his work through normal human beings. He must have people who see their reason for living is to do what he wants. When people want what they want, God doesn’t get what he wants.

The question is: must everyone do this to receive Christ or is this only for a few? The answer is that it is a process. People turn away from Christ because they don’t like the idea, and that is a clear category that we can define. But after that, we have a large group who accept the idea (probably without understanding) and possibly will go their entire lives NOT being satisfied with the food and drink of God: they continue in their humanness and look after those desires, to the detriment of the things of God. But, it is from this starting point, this pool of possibility, that a few feel a first glimmer of awareness that there must be something more, and hunt for that hunger that is satisfied only with that food. And then, after a time and after a distance, they find there is no contentment with the old things, and then they are stuck in a place of no return: where if they turn back, they have no rest in the company of the others who are content with listening to their own hunger.

The food and the drink is offered to all who accept Christ. It is not offered to those who don’t. But the offer is rarely accepted, at least in its fullness. And so we re-place it with invented religion: fasting, praying, offerings. Small gestures that admit to our awareness of the demand, but are held to a pitiful percentage: a measured response that we can live with because we are willing to give 10%, but we must have the 90%.

Give us this day our daily bread. Are we talking about a loaf of bread? Or bread that Jesus said we know nothing of? WHY would Jesus tell the people of God to pray for something they don’t need? Why would Jesus tell the people of God to pray for something that has no value to God? Why would Jesus tell the people of God to pray for something that keeps their eyes closed? That satisfies their needs and therefore keeps them content where they are? Oblivious. God deprived the Israelites in the wilderness, so they would learn something. How can we pray for God to give us something he withheld from them? Seriously: we ask God to NOT test us as he did them?

But that’s exactly what Jesus’ then says in his prayer: Do not lead us into temptation. WHY? Jesus’ temptations were for no purpose? We ask to not be taught any-thing?

Your kingdom come.

Your will be done,

On earth as it is in heaven.

HOW is this accomplished if we get our daily bread? How is this accomplished if we are driven by our human needs and passions? It is an impossible thing. His kingdom and mine cannot both exist. One must give way. His will and mine can-not both exist. One must give way.

(but how does “forgive us our debts” fit between daily bread and temptation? There must be a reason it’s there instead of after.]

John 7

7.7

Then in v 4 they say that if you do these things, show yourself to the world. John follows that remark with the statement that not even his brothers believed in him.

Why didn’t they care that he was being hunted? Why were they daring and taunting him, saying that staying in Galilee was the wrong thing to do: that if he was who he said he was, he should announce himself, not stay in the shadows.

6Jesus said to them, “My time has not yet come, but your time is always here. 7The world cannot hate you, but it hates me because I testify against it that its works are evil. 8Go to the festival yourselves. I am not going to this festival, for my time has not yet fully come.” 9After saying this, he remained in Galilee.

Joseph and his brothers

Because then I should be like you.

You have no fear of them because you are them.

I have a time. You have none. Because you’ll never do anything.

If you are who you say you are, throw yourself off this precipice. God will not allow you to be harmed.

George R. Beasley-Murray, Word Biblical Commentary, 36:107

The kairov of the brothers of Jesus is “always present”: since they neglect God’s kairoiv, they determine their own lives, and so lead a meaningless existence in the world of which they are a part. That is why the world cannot hate them: the world loves its own (15-19).

John 9

9.6 The mud was so that he couldn’t see. He was healed, but Jesus sent him to wash off the mud, in the pool of Siloam, over there, so Jesus could leave, in the other direction.

Jesus healed him immediately, but the man could not open his eyes, because of the mud. That gave Jesus time to leave: before the man knew he was healed. No one knew: not the blind man, not anyone watching.

Jesus didn’t want the attention. It was in public. It was the sabbath. He pitied the blind man and wanted him to see, but he didn’t want all the collateral stuff, and so he did it this way. He gave the man what he wanted—to see—and give himself what he wanted: to not be seen.

9.13-34 Is it legal to have such an extended inquiry on the sabbath?

Jesus didn’t want this. He did everything he could to avoid stirring up the Pharisee pot. He loved the man and wanted him to be healed, but he also wanted to go on his way in peace. He did it this way, sending the man away so he would not know he was healed until he was away from the crowd and, at the same time, giving Jesus time to leave the scene.

But the Pharisees insisted on an inquiry. A man had been healed! On the sabbath! They were going to do whatever it took to find out who had broken the law, even thought it meant them breaking the law. Working on the sabbath is not forbidden if it is for the right reason.

Is it permitted to expel people from the synagogue on the sabbath?

Jesus wanted to be left alone, but they wouldn’t allow that. They worked at it, investigating and interrogating and summoning people, on the sabbath, because this thing had to be sorted out, no matter how long or how much effort it took. A man has been healed! We have to make sure this sort of thing never happens again!

9.40 In verse 2 the disciples asked, “Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” In v 40 the Pharisees said to him, “Surely we are not blind, are we?” Jesus said no you aren’t, and therefore you are in sin: because you are not blind.

The Truth is standing there, in front of them, and they ask if it’s okay to not see it. No, it’s not okay.

John 11

11.52 the dispersed children of God. It is likely that John never saw “the world” as including anyone other than the dispersed tribes of Israel. John 3.19-21 refers only to Israel, and there is nothing in the rest of John’s writings to make us think he regarded the Gentiles as equal to the Jews—and certainly not that there is no longer Jew or Greek (Gal 3.28). There is no evidence any of the Twelve ever came to so radical a view as Paul.

Paul says the acknowledged leaders (Peter, James, John) contributed nothing to his work (Gal; 2.6), says “the pillars” restricted themselves to “the circumcised” by design (Gal 2.9), and accuses them of abandoning him (2 Tim 4.16). There is no evidence John saw the work among the Gentiles as equal to the work among the Jews.

Rev 7.9 says that a great multitude from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, stood before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white. But, ch 7 also says that 12,000 from each tribe were sealed with a mark on their foreheads: an indication that they had the priority.

John 16

16.33 I have said this to you, so that in me you may have peace. In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world!

Peace is not freedom from trouble, but the knowledge that persecution is the path.

Similarly, love is not a happy emotion, but a life of acting like God instead of like a natural person.

And, joy is not a happy emotion, but a life of contentment, doing whatever is needed with your life so that Christ is increased, and we are decreased: no expectations, no resentment, no desire to be like them, no concern about success. (Our decrease is not necessarily part of the goal, except that his increase is usually proportional to our decrease, and vice versa.)

Also, hope is not the expectation of things getting better, but the confidence that it will all have been worth it, after death: after it is too late to take the other path.

In Christ, love, joy, peace, and hope are radically redefined. They are the tools of survival for the person who follows Christ and needs to make it to the end.

John 19

The Temptation

You think I am not affected? That I did not wince when the knife was raised, that I felt nothing when he was starved, betrayed, clubbed down to the ground?

You think I did not rage with anger? That I can say retribution is mine and I will not pay back?!

You think their fear and loneliness and distress went unnoticed? That I considered such great courage but felt nothing? That I saw their softness but I was hard? That my hand felt the warmth of their body but I was cold?

That I expected of them without expecting of myself?

Their grief is mine. I will repay, myself. By myself.

Their starvation is mine. I will repay, myself. By myself.

Their thirst is mine. I will repay, myself. By myself.

Their pain and torment and horror is mine. I will repay, myself. By myself. In myself.

Every wrong, every hurt is remembered. Every image is mine. Unforgettable. Clear. Horrible. A deep, miserable pain.

This sleepless night is mine; they paid for it. This day of heat and hunger is mine, paid for by them.

How could I demand it of them and not demand it of myself?

How could I hurt them and not hurt myself?

Impossible.

Who do you think I am?

What kind of heartless, thoughtless, stone God do you think I am?

I will repay. In my own pain, in my own blood.

I remember.

I repay.

Nothing is too much. I spoke and they did it. How could anything now be too much for me?

Do you think I would ask you to be my servant and I would not be yours?

Do you think I would ask for your life and not give my own?

Do you think I would ask for your trust and not honor it?

For my friend, who I love, who loved me in life, and loved me in death, I do this.

I remember. Everything.

It is impossibly heavy and painful, in my body, by hunger, by thirst, by distress, by betrayal, by words.

My skin is burned. Crawling things feed upon me. I sob for sleep, but the predators have no pity, and the scorpions and centipedes and spiders have no sense. Even if they aren’t there I feel them. I am prey to them, and to my own skin.

All of this has come, upon me. I repay, with myself. Gladly. My friends suffered for me. It is no weight that I suffer for them.

This day. And the next. Until I have filled full what they have done for me.

I will not stop. I would not stop. I told them they couldn’t; how could I? If only I could do more, for these, my friends.

Thousands upon thousands. So many. A great cloud of familiar faces spreading to the horizon, and beyond. Honored friends, who loved me and gave themselves for me.

I am. Terribly hungry.

I am. Alone.

I am. Remembering.

I am. Repaying.

I am. Grateful.

The Passion

When they see what he has done, when they see that his suffering is because of theirs, they mourn: for how little they suffered and how much he is paying back. When they see that it was not the intent of God to have their sufferings unanswered, when they see that his justice is not just to punish the aggressor but to share their suffering, to take the weight of the terrible thing that happened to them onto himself—then they are healed. The pain is released. It is finally and completely over. He finished it for them, in his body, with his own terrible, horrifying torture.

They watch, and grieve, and weep. They had no thought that it would be like this: that he would repay all their pain himself.

He looks up from his beating and with a calm face, meets their eyes. Just for a moment. Before the next blow comes.

His head turns to the side, from his cross, and with a calm face, meets their eyes, Just for a moment. Before the next wave of pain closes his eyes.

The hateful and ruthless are punished, but that’s not so important. Not any longer. The innocents are not told to forget, or to move on. They are healed. Truly healed. After they see what he has done, all that… a tear squeezes itself out, and drops. Every face is in agony and wet with tears. And then they wipe them away. Themselves.

The Job view of God

Before Christ, people looked at Job as the worst-case scenario of how God treats his people. “If it could happen to Job, it could it happen to me!” There was tension. People didn’t understand. They hoped God would not do it again.

After Christ, no one could look at suffering as something mysterious. In Christ, the ways of God were clear: this is how even my Beloved is treated. Paul understood, and worked to move closer to that suffering, because he knew it was the only way to get close enough to Christ to satisfy his hunger.

After Christ, the truth was unmistakable. If you avoid it, you avoid him. If you step into it, he is in there. Somewhere. He does not slow his step to wait for you to catch up, but if you quicken your pace and keep going, he will be there.

Job left people wishing they would not be similarly targeted by God. Christ left people wishing they would be allowed the privilege of being close enough to him to feel the warmth.

After Job, people would look at his suffering as the extreme, and (hopefully) an a one-time thing. After Christ, people would look at his beating and death as the pattern: the way.

This great cloud of witnesses, who lived under Job, could not know there would be a Christ such as this. Now they know. Watching all that, standing there, in this intolerable silence, afraid to look around or to look up, not wanting to watch but compelled to because they know this is the time and they must see it, And there, behind them, above them, the Father is watching.

Abraham, in the bosom of the Father, looks on in astonishment and horror. The Father’s anguish embarrasses him. Then the words, “Look what they have done to my Son. Look what they have done.” Abraham says simply, “I’m sorry,” because nothing more can be said. But God has him there, the one person who knows this. A friend. A good friend. With him in the horror.