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Entries categorized as ‘Fourth Gospel’

The Fourth Gospel, “the Jews,” and irony

October 6, 2008 · 2 Comments

When we look at the term “the Jews” in the book of John (or the Fourth Gospel), it’s important to carefully examine what the FG author is trying to communicate, why this one particular term is used in a negative context roughly 40 times throughout the book (as opposed to between five and seven positive uses). Misunderstandings of this image have not only caused Christians to miss out on intended meaning of the text, but it’s led them to horrifically inaccurate thoughts of Judaism as a religion and Jews as people.

 

Thankfully strides are being made in the whole of biblical studies – and Johannine studies are no exception – regarding the relationship between the New Testament message and first-century Judaism. More and more biblical scholars are concerning themselves with the history and context of the New Testament, rather than parsing NT books into allegorical and spiritualized categories for Christians who wish to read their Bible for its sentences rather than its meaning. Discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls aided Johannine studies, as it helped scholars to understand how seemingly Hellenistic elements could fit into a Palestinian setting.

 

The FG, more than any other New Testament book, has benefited from this shift in perspective, the increased recognition of Christianity as a sect, a continuation, of first-century Judaism.

 

HOW WE KNOW THE FOURTH GOSPEL IS JEWISH

One case for the Jewishness of the FG is the author’s detailed familiarity for the language and symbols of both Judaism and the Jewish Bible, the Old Testament. While this familiarity would hardly make the case for Jewishness on a stand-alone basis, it does provide one good building block from which to start. Gentile Christians also used the Jewish Bible (the LXX), as they saw themselves as people grafted into the olive tree of God’s people. But the explicit, continuous use of OT language and Jewish images goes beyond the level of familiarity possessed by most Gentile Christians (who would have likely began to deeply study the OT upon conversion to Jewish Christianity).

 

The author communicates in a hermeneutic that is inexplicably geared toward a Jewish audience. The FG is at least partly organized around the Jewish liturgical year, and while Diaspora Jews were familiar with the feasts, very few non-Christian and non-Jewish Gentiles would have been particularly keen to these images and references. Some of the settings and situations in the FG would have made nearly no sense outside of a Jewish context; to a Jewish audience these symbols were obvious and deeply rooted.

 

In other words, while the Jewish audience of the FG would’ve been familiar with larger Mediterranean culture, non-Jewish members of that larger culture would’ve been ignorant to the Jewishness of the FG.

 

Jewish customs are on part of the assumed knowledge in this book. For instance, purification vessels (2.6), Jesus’ Jerusalem visit at Passover (2.13, 23), the conversation about circumcision on the Sabbath (7.22-23), and the need for witnesses (8.13-18). The FG is ordered around festivals, whether Passover (chs. 2, 6, 18-19), the Sabbath (ch. 5), Tabernacles (chs. 7-10), or Hanukkah (10.22-39).

 

The description of Jesus and his role certainly indicate the Jewishness of the FG. Jesus is the paschal lamb (1.29, 36; 19.36), the king of Israel and Jacob’s ladder (1.51). He is the Psalmist’s sufferer in 2.12-22, and the Lord coming to purify his temple (Mal 3.1-3). He is God’s appointed means of deliverance in the wilderness (3.14; Num 21.8-9), and the well in the wilderness for Jacob’s descendants. (4.14; Num 21.16-17). Finally, he’s the “King of the Judeans” (19.19-22). 

 

WHEN THE GOOD BOOK GOES BAD

While the pro-Jewishness of the book seems apparent based on these literary roots, this topic has been a tripping point for many biblical scholars, who have wavered in identifying the FG as an intra-Jewish polemic or a Gentile-sourced attack on Judaism. And one particular phrase – “the Jews” – has been at the heart of their debate. Some scholars, church leaders, and laypersons have taken the FG depiction of “the Jews” as anti-Jewish, and they really took off with the idea. The phrase became fundamental for medieval and modern Christian understanding of Judaism as a faith and Jews as people. Their anti-Judaism quickly and easily snaked into anti-Semitism. The Nazi propaganda and anti-Semitic tracts that circulated less than one century ago used the FG extensively, as a supposed proof-text for its claims regarding Judaism. “The Jews” were depicted in that material as sub-humans who, as an entire people, failed to see Jesus for his messiahship – either because of stupidity, pride, or simply because they were embodied in a untermenschen (sub-human) composite. 

It is ignorant and naive to suggest that Christians in the aftermath of the Holocaust have rid their theology of each and every heretical pitfall that propelled them to a gospel of hate toward their spiritual siblings. Handling the FG – and this recurring phrase, “the Jews,” specifically –  is paramount to establish a history of careful, accurate, Spirit-guided biblical studies and pastoral teaching. 

 

KEEPING IT IN THE FAMILY

As is the case today in families or any type of membership unit, there’s a strong difference between outside slander and critique from within. (It’s one thing to say something harsh to a family member in a moment of contention; it’s a whole separate thing when someone from outside the family chooses to project strong language against the family.) Even the most elementary study of Jewish history will illumine a long history of critique from within, of intra-family debate. Just as it would be dangerous to read the OT prophets as anti-Jewish polemic, so too is it atrocious to conceive of the FG as an anti-Jewish text.

 

One of the biggest problems with establishing “the Jews” in an anti-Jewish context is that Jesus himself receives the reference. The FG’s account of the incarnation mentions Jesus as a “Jew” (4.9) from Nazareth (1.45). What’s interesting in Jesus’ case is that he is called a Jew only by non-Jews – the Samaritan woman (4.9) and Pilate (18.35) – as if his own people would not own up to him (1.11). That Jesus takes on the title “Jew” for himself, and that it is never confessed by his aggressors in Jewish leadership, points toward the notion that the term, in its most common usage throughout the FG, is a device of irony that implies Jesus’ opponents (Jewish leaders, not all Jews) view of him.

 

“The Jews” is generally used to describe Jerusalem-based leaders. They’re at the center of Judean opposition to Jesus. For the Johannine community, they serve as representation for those Judean leaders in their day, those who were keeping Johannine believers out of the synagogue. This type of Jew – “the Jews” of the FG – often represent corrupt Judean leadership, in Jesus’ day and at the time of the FG’s composition.

 

IRONY AND ITS IMPACT

These “Jews” are both tragic and ironic characters in a book that is filled with irony. The irony employed by Jesus through, and along with, the writer of the FG was not missed on the book’s intended audience. Diaspora and Palestinian Jews alike would have been familiar with rhetoric and literary devices of Greco-Roman literature, and the OT – especially in the prophets – contains (sometimes scathing) ironic statements and images meant to strike a chord in the hearts of the audience.

 

Irony in the FG often centers on misunderstanding of Jesus’ words or Judaism, of which Jesus is the essence and embodiment. Jesus often speaks in double entendre in the FG, especially gearing those remarks to religious leaders. For instance, “the Jews” attack Jesus’ messianic claims based on his place of birth; they “know” that he’s not from Bethlehem (whereas “the Jerusalemites” and “the Pharisees” admit that they don’t know Jesus’ origin). These leaders want Jesus put to death so that the Romans won’t take their place and nation, yet the audience of the FG would know that the Romans did, in fact, end up taking their place and nation. Irony prevails when Pilate acknowledges Jesus as “King of the Jews” while Jewish leaders deny it.

 

Another clear example of irony in the FG is the juxtaposition of Nicodemus with the Samaritan woman. Nicodemus, a teacher of the Law, does not recognize Jesus as God’s Word, while the Samaritan woman is able to acknowledge him as such. Her willing faith rubs harshly against Nicodemus’ fear of losing power and influence; as a result, it’s the Samaritan woman to whom Jesus reveals himself.

 

Again characters are juxtaposed at the end of the FG when the Beloved Disciple – Lazarus, I say – is compared with Simon Peter. John 17 is where we find Peter and “another disciple” (the Beloved Disciple) heading to the door of the high priest’s court. This other disciple is allowed in by the doorkeeper because he is known by the high priest. (The backstory to this is that the scene is taking place about two miles from where Lazarus lived. Lazarus is wealthy and influential – part of the “who’s who” of the locale. His affinity for Jesus would’ve been well known, and the monumental news of Lazarus’ resurrection certainly traveled to Jerusalem authorities.)

 

In John 20 Peter and the “other disciple whom Jesus loved” approach the tomb. The text goes out of its way to emphasize that the other disciple ran faster than Peter to the tomb. In John 21, it is this “other disciple whom Jesus loved” explaining to Peter that the person before them is the Lord.

 

Why is this an example of irony? Because the Johannine community – centered around Lazarus, a leader in the messianic church in Jerusalem – was struggling to merge with, and find place in, the Apostolic Church (founded on Peter) at the time of the FG’s composition. Lazarus, the most favored character (besides Jesus himself) in the FG, is a tangible demonstration of the Johannine community’s faithfulness to Jesus’ message. The FG is a faith-building testament to the fact that, while the Apostolic Church had some differences with the Johannine community, their leader, Lazarus, though a different type of leader than Peter, was loved by Jesus as an example of true faith.

 

In the FG, the Law is constantly used positively as a sign pointing toward Jesus, yet the people who oppose Jesus attempt (and fail) to use the Law as a tool to disprove his messianic claims. When the FG claims that the Law is their Law, this is a form of irony, a statement that these leaders, of all people, should rightly handle and apply the Law. (The device shows up when referencing their father Abraham in 8:39-40 and their Moses in 9:28-29. Neither references are derogatory toward the biblical heroes; likewise the FG is not condemning the Law.)

 

WHO ARE “THE JEWS”

The “Jews” of the FG represent those Jewish leaders who did not accept Jesus’ claims, those who claimed to understand the essence of Judaism and to be examples of right living. However, when Judaism in all its perfection hit the ground via the incarnation of Jesus, some of these Jewish leaders were blind to Jesus, or “Judaism done right.” It is the Jewish leaders, and not Jesus, who are to be considered the antithesis of Judaism. “The Jews” in the FG is not a pejorative toward all Jewish people; it is a defense of Judaism against those who claimed to have it right but had abused their power and influence. It is corruption, and not Judaism, that is the problem in the FG. Jesus defeats the former and embodies the latter.

Categories: Church in transition · Fourth Gospel · Jewish roots · New Perspective · biblical studies · theology

Lazarus and the Fourth Gospel: Part Two

July 6, 2008 · 1 Comment

As a follow-up to my Lazarus post, I wanted to also mention Witherington’s What Have They Done With Jesus? as an even more complete resource for the BD=Lazarus case.

Also, one pro-Lazarus item that I didn’t see in Witherington’s coverage of the topic (that’s not to say it isn’t there; I could’ve overlooked it) but was one of the points in Dr. Steve Hunt’s lectures (as well as a paper I listened to him present for the Society of Biblical Literature) which sold me on Lazarus is the role of the sudarion in John 20.3-9:

So Peter and the other disciple started for the tomb. Both were running, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent over and looked in at the strips of linen lying there but did not go in. Then Simon Peter, who was behind him, arrived and went into the tomb. He saw the strips of linen lying there, as well as the burial cloth that had been around Jesus’ head. The cloth was folded up by itself, separate from the linen. Finally the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went inside. He saw and believed. (They still did not understand from Scripture that Jesus had to rise from the dead.)

(John 20.3-9 NIV)

Notice the role of the sudarion (the head-covering) in the Beloved Disciple’s reaction to the tomb. The text goes out of its way to identify the head-covering apart from the rest of the linens. Peter goes into the tomb, sees the sudarion, but nothing registers. The BD walks into the tomb and immediately believes. I’m convinced that is because of the BD’s own experience with the sudarion; seeing that thing all over again sealed the deal for him.

Quick flashback:

   Jesus, once more deeply moved, came to the tomb. It was a cave with a stone laid across the entrance. ”Take away the stone,” he said. 
      ”But, Lord,” said Martha, the sister of the dead man, “by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days.”   Then Jesus said, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?”

   So they took away the stone. Then Jesus looked up and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that you sent me.”

   When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face. 
      Jesus said to them, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.”

(John 11.38-44 NIV)

Okay, so this has the makings of a good story, doesn’t it? All of the literary connections are there; they’re obvious. The resurrection of Lazarus in John 11 is the climactic point of this book. Why? Because Jesus has revealed himself as the Resurrection and the Life. The layout of the Fourth Gospel is all about Jesus revealing himself through signs and wonders – as Torah, as water, as light. But the pinnacle of those revelations – or maybe it would be better to call it the culmination of those revelations – is when Jesus reveals himself as the Resurrection and the defeat of death. Here in this Judean gospel, he does just that.

This is a big-time moment in the biblical narrative.

As for Lazarus? I’m going out on a limb and guessing that this whole personal experience of death and resurrection was a pretty big deal for the guy. Try dying, only to “wake up” to your close friend Jesus beside you and your family and entire community are huddled around. On top of everything else, you’re all wrapped up – like a dead person! Imagine waking up like that. It goes without saying that this is the most dramatic moment Lazarus has had to deal with. I am betting that Lazarus had images and sounds and scents from that day that stuck with him forever. And one of those memories would have been being released from his dead guy outfit.

Fast forward to John 20 and the empty tomb. Peter and “the other disciple” (to whom Mary Magdalene would have been running) approach the tomb. Both of these guys see the linen cloths. Peter keeps heading into the grave. But this other disciple… this beloved disciple… Lazarus – well he stays put for a minute, in what I think is a “Could it be that…” moment.

The stone moved from the grave. The scent of death. This guy has been here before. 

Lazarus steps into the grave, inside of which is a confused Peter and a sudarion, the head-covering used for burials. The garment Lazarus himself had worn just a short time ago. At this point I believed it clicked. The connection was made. The “other disciple” was able to believe in a Jesus who resurrects because he, Lazarus, had personally experienced that resurrection.

Categories: Fourth Gospel · biblical studies

Lazarus and the Fourth Gospel

July 3, 2008 · 2 Comments

Who was the Beloved Disciple of the Fourth Gospel?

After hearing Dr. Steve Hunt’s lectures on the matter, I believe the case for Lazarus is strong. Ben Witherington III seems to agree.

Interested in the Fourth Gospel? Consider reading The Community of the Beloved Disciple by Raymond Brown. Brown’s book details the evolution of the Johannine community – their relationship with Apostolic Christians and non-Messianic Jews, and how those relationships influenced the theological ideas generated in the Fourth Gospel.

Categories: Fourth Gospel · biblical studies · books