Category Archives: Scripture

Like a Refiner’s Fire

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“The heavens will be dissolved in flames and the elements melted by fire” (2 Peter 3:12). Yikes! That was a hard start to our first reading. To modern ears, the language sounds catastrophic, end of the world kind of stuff. “Frightening” would be a bit of an understatement. If we had not told you it was from 2 Peter you would have probably thought it was from Revelation.

Yet for Peter’s original audience, the passage was intended less as a threat than as a call to perseverance and hope. The letter is addressed to Christians who were growing weary because Christ had not returned as soon as they expected. Earlier in the chapter, Peter mentions scoffers who ask, “Where is the promise of his coming?” (3:4). Some were beginning to doubt whether God’s promises would ever be fulfilled. Peter responds in three ways:

First, God’s timetable is not ours. “The Lord does not delay his promise” (3:9). What seems like delay is actually divine patience. God is giving humanity time to repent. Just before our reading, Peter instructed the people that “With the Lord one day is like a thousand years and a thousand years like one day. The Lord does not delay his promise, as some regard delay, but he is patient with you, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance.” (2 Peter 3:8-9) Peter is likely echoing the psalmist: “A thousand years in your sight are as yesterday, now that it is past, or as a watch of the night.” (Ps 90:4)

Second, the present world is not ultimate. The imagery of fire is drawn from the Jewish prophetic tradition. Fire often symbolizes God’s judgment, purification, and renewal. Peter’s point is not to provide a scientific description of cosmic destruction but to proclaim that evil, injustice, and sin will not have the last word. The prophet Malachi writes: “He is like a refiner’s fire… He will sit refining and purifying silver.” (Malachi 3:2-3). A refiner does not throw silver into the furnace to destroy it. The fire burns away impurities so that the silver becomes what it was meant to be.

Third, Christians should live now according to the future God is preparing. Because believers await “new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwell” (3:13), they are called to holiness, peace, and steadfastness. The emphasis falls not on fear of destruction but on hope for renewal.

In our times we face a different challenge but a similar temptation. We often become discouraged when God’s kingdom seems slow to appear. Wars continue, injustice persists, and the Church itself experiences weakness and scandal. Like Peter’s audience, we can wonder whether God’s promises are really unfolding. Peter’s answer remains relevant:

  • God’s patience should not be mistaken for absence.
  • History is moving toward God’s purposes, even when we cannot see it.
  • Christians are called to live as citizens of the coming kingdom now.

The “new heavens and new earth” remind us that Christianity is not merely about escaping the world but about God’s intention to transform and renew creation.

There is an interesting contrast in the passage. Everything that appears permanent—the heavens, the earth, the structures of this world—will pass away. Yet the one thing that endures is what is rooted in God: faith, holiness, righteousness, and grace. Peter is essentially asking: If everything else is temporary, what kind of life is worth building? His answer comes at the end of the reading: “Grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (3:18).

The Christian response to an uncertain future is neither fear nor speculation about the end times. It is growth in holiness, confidence in God’s promises, and faithful discipleship today. Things come and go, but we are called to keep our eyes fixed on the world God is bringing to birth.

Image credit: Created by ChapGPT, May 31 2026 | “The heavens will be dissolved in flames and the elements melted by fire” (2 Peter 3:12)

Context: bread and Passover

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This coming Sunday is the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ. All the gospel writers describe the miracle of the fishes and loaves (Mk 6:33-46, Mt 14:13-23, Lk 9:10-17, and Jn 6:1-15).  Through the dialogue that precedes and follows the miracle, Jesus teaches the disciples to trust in him whenever they meet with difficulties in their future apostolic endeavors.  He teaches them that they should engage in using whatever resources they have even if they are clearly inadequate.  He will supply what is lacking and underscores the meaning of the their continuing mission:

  • they are to nourish the people,
  • they will need God’s help in nourishing the people, and
  • their job is to distribute that which Christ provides.

In the account of the miracles, although Jesus orders the Apostles to feed the people, the main act is performed by Jesus alone.  In a solemn, liturgical style, St John describes the scene as “Jesus then took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated…” (Jn 6:11). Where the other gospels go on to describe more events, the fourth gospel pauses to theological reflect on the meaning of the miracle whose inner meaning is spelled out at length in Jn 6:25-59. These verses are known as the Bread of Life Discourse.

The best way to understand this discourse is to recognize that it centers on one biblical text, “He gave them bread from heaven to eat” (v. 31), and is therefore a conscious demonstration of the truth of 5:39, 46–47 that the Scriptures illuminate the person of Jesus. The pivotal text is an echo of many Old Testament verses:

  • Exod 16:4: “I will now rain down bread from heaven for you”;
  • Neh 9:15: “Food from heaven you gave them in their hunger”;
  • Ps 78:24: “He rained manna upon them for food and gave them heavenly bread”;
  • Ps 105:40: “ … and with bread from heaven he satisfied them.”

All of these verses are referring to the miracle of manna in the desert during the Exodus from Egypt. The first reading on Corpus Christi Sunday is taken from Dt 8 in which Moses reminds the people of what God had done for them: “…fed you with manna, a food unknown to you and your fathers, in order to show you that not by bread alone does one live, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of the LORD.” (Dt 8:3)

This is a sign/miracle which discloses Jesus as the one who sustains us with his living word and with the gift of his own life in the Eucharistic bread.  Not only the sign of the bread but also the reassuring words to the disciples, ‘It is I’ (John 6:20), along with the Christological ‘I am’ statements (vv. 25, 35, 41, 48-51), all draw our attention beyond the words of Jesus and beyond the Eucharist itself to the person of Jesus who communicated his life-giving power through them.  For St. John, the point of this scene is that Jesus is the Moses-like prophet who feeds his people with a new bread.  This new bread is Jesus’ word of revelation received in faith as well as his Eucharistic bread.  But the crowd’s understanding is clouded by their messianic expectations because their hopes are tainted with politics and power. They do not see the spiritual nature of the messianic kingdom; only the outward signs.

The discourse is interrupted four times by dialogue from/within the audience. Lifted from the text and placed in order of occurrence it is easy to see the shifting reaction of the audience as their messianic expectations are not being met.

So they said to him, “What sign can you do, that we may see and believe in you? What can you do? Our ancestors ate manna in the desert, as it is written ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’” (John 6:30-31)

So they said to him, “Sir, give us this bread always.” (John 6:34)

The Jews murmured about him because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven,” and they said, “Is this not Jesus, the son of Joseph? Do we not know his father and mother? Then how can he say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” (John 6:41-42)

The Jews quarreled among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us [his] flesh to eat?” (John 6:52)

In Jn 6:4 we are told that the Passover was at hand.  After that St John has little to directly say about the Passover and its relation to the Bread of Life Discourse.  Many Catholic scholars believe that St John’s writing assumes that the reader is familiar with the synoptic Gospels.  Consequently, St John does not recount the story of Jesus, rather, St John gives the theological perspective.  Whereas the synoptic writers recount the Eucharistic institution in their Gospels, St John provides the theological basis for the event.  Where the synoptic writers place their accounts in the proper historical setting, the Passover feast; St John provides the explanations in a different setting, following the miracle of the feeding of the 5,000.  In this way he shows the prefiguring of Holy Eucharist in the OT via the Exodus account, as well as an immediate prefiguring here at another Passover.

But St John did not simply use the Passover setting as a backdrop.  There is some evidence that in St John’s telling of the story he has captured very strong parallels to the Passover feast, just as in the Last Supper.  In the Passover liturgy four children ask questions about what is enacted by the celebration.  These questions have parallels in questions that the crowd asks of Jesus.  The first question of the meal is about the works of God.  The second question regards passages in Scripture. The mocking question in vv.41-42 is equated with the third question posed at the meal by the ‘wicked child’.  The ‘sincere child’ asks the fourth question supposed to be a practical question paralleled in v.52.

Share in the Divine Nature

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In today’s first reading we are given a goal: “that you may come to share in the divine nature” (2 Peter 1:4). Wow! This is one of the most profound statements in the entire New Testament. It has played a central role in Christian theology, especially in the Eastern Christian tradition, where it is often called theosis or divinization. But the first thing to note is what Peter does not mean. He does not mean that human beings become gods by nature, cease to be creatures, or somehow merge into God’s essence. The distinction between Creator and creature remains. Yet Peter is saying something astonishingly positive: through Christ, human beings are invited into a real participation in God’s own life.

The fuller verse reads: “He has bestowed on us the precious and very great promises, so that through them you may come to share in the divine nature, after escaping from the corruption that is in the world because of evil desire.” Notice the contrast: corruption versus divine life, sin versus holiness, and death versus immortality. Peter is describing the restoration of humanity to the destiny God intended from the beginning. Human beings were created in God’s image (Genesis 1:26-27). Through Christ, that image is renewed and brought to fulfillment.

A helpful parallel is found in John’s Gospel: “To those who did accept him he gave power to become children of God” (John 1:12). And in Paul’s letters: “All of us… are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory” (2 Corinthians 3:18). The New Testament consistently teaches that salvation is not merely forgiveness of sins; it is participation in God’s own life.

The early Christian writers were remarkably bold in describing this mystery. Irenaeus of Lyons emphasized that Christ became what we are so that we might become what God intended us to be. He wrote: “The Word of God, our Lord Jesus Christ … became what we are, that He might bring us to be even what He is.” For Irenaeus, salvation is the restoration and completion of humanity.

Perhaps the most famous statement comes from Athanasius: “God became man so that man might become god.” This phrase can sound startling today, but Athanasius was not teaching that humans become divine beings independent of God. He meant that through union with Christ we share by grace what belongs to God by nature: immortality, holiness, righteousness, and communion with the Father.

Gregory of Nazianzus taught: “Let us become like Christ, since Christ became like us.” The Christian life is a process of transformation into Christ’s likeness. Augustine of Hippo also embraced this theme: “God became man, that man might become God.” For Augustine, participation in God means being drawn into the life of the Trinity through grace, not becoming divine in essence.

For Peter, sharing in the divine nature is not an abstract mystical concept. Immediately after this verse he lists virtues that should grow in the believer: faith, virtue, knowledge, self-control, endurance, godliness, mutual affection and love. The evidence of participation in God’s life is that a person increasingly reflects God’s character. One might say since God is love, holy, merciful, and faithful, then we are called to become those same things. The goal is not becoming less human but becoming fully human as God intended.

The Church Fathers provide a useful image: a piece of iron placed into a blazing fire. The iron remains iron. It does not become fire by nature. Yet it becomes glowing, radiant, and hot because it participates in the fire. So too, the Christian remains fully human. Yet through Christ, the sacraments, prayer, and the Holy Spirit, the believer becomes filled with the very life of God.

That is the astonishing promise Peter holds before his readers: salvation is not merely being rescued from something; it is being drawn into communion with God Himself, sharing by grace in what God is by nature. That is what Peter means by “share[ing] in the divine nature.”

Image credit: Created by ChapGPT, May 31 2026 | “Iron being heated and glowing in fire”

Corpus Christi – history

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This coming Sunday is the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ. It is a celebration perhaps better known by the Latin Corpus Christi. At its core, the solemnity is a celebration of the Tradition and belief in the Eucharist as the Real Presence of the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. Many folks wonder why this celebration is not part of Holy Thursday.  In the past it was and was mixed in with other themes, e.g., institution of the priesthood. And, all this occurs in the shadow of Good Friday. The placement of the celebration was not one that necessarily lends itself to a joyful celebration.

Saint Juliana of Liège, O.Praem, was the one who became the spark leading to a joyous celebration of Corpus Christi. For her devotion, life, and efforts, she is known as the “Apostle of the Blessed Sacrament.” Liège was already a center for devotion to the Eucharist, so from her early youth, Juliana had great veneration for the Eucharist and longed for a special feast day in its honor. In 1208 at age 16, she began having visions of the moon in its full splendor, crossed diametrically by a dark stripe. In time, she came to understand that the moon symbolized the life of the Church on earth, the opaque line, on the other hand, represented the absence of a liturgical feast in honor of Christ’s Body and Blood. Not having any way to bring about such a feast, she kept her thoughts to herself, except for sharing them with Blessed Eve of Liège, who lived in a cell adjacent to the Basilica of St. Martin, and a few other trusted sisters in her monastery. The vision was repeated for the next 20 years, but she maintained it as a secret. When she eventually relayed it to her confessor, he relayed it to the Bishop of Liège, Robert de Thorete as well as petitioning the learned Dominican Hugh of St-Cher. At that time bishops could order feasts in their dioceses, so Bishop Robert ordered in 1246 a celebration of Corpus Christi to be held in the diocese each year thereafter on the Thursday after Trinity Sunday. In 1252, now Cardinal-Legate established the feast for his whole jurisdiction (Germany, Dacia, Bohemia, and Moravia), to be celebrated on the Thursday after the Octave of Trinity

The archdeacon of the Diocese of Liège, Jacques Pantaléon of Troyes was also won over to the cause of the Feast of Corpus Christi during his time in the Diocese of Liège. He eventually became Pope Urban IV in 1264. In addition to his devotion to St Juliana’s vision, the feast of Corpus Christi was also proposed by St. Thomas Aquinas in order to create a feast focused solely on the Holy Eucharist, emphasizing the joy of the Eucharist being the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ.  On August 11, 1264 the pope instituted the Solemnity of Corpus Christi on the Thursday after Pentecost as a feast for the entire Latin Rite, by the papal bull Transiturus de hoc mundo. It was the first papally-mandated feast for the world-wide church.

God so loved the world

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This coming Sunday is Holy Trinity Sunday.  For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life. Verse 16 provides the link between the two parts of the discourse. It sums up vv. 14-15 by reiterating the salvific dimensions of Jesus’ death, but moves the argument forward with its reference to God’s love. God gave Jesus to the world because God loves the world.

The verb translated “give” (didōmi) Is regularly used in the Fourth Gospel to describe God as the source of what Jesus offers the world (3:35; 5:22, 26, 36). John 3:16 is the only place in the Fourth Gospel that says God “gave” his Son to the world; the more common expression is that God “sent” Jesus, as in 3:17. (Two Greek verbs meaning “to send” [pempō and apostellō are used interchangeably see 3:17; 4:34; 5:23-24, 30, 36-37; 6:38.) “send” Jesus is more clearly associated with will for the world, whereas didōmi seems to used in 3:16 to underscore that the incarnation derives from God’s love for the world as well as from God’s will.

“World” (kosmos) in John refers often to those human beings who are at odds with Jesus and God (1:10, 7:7; 15:18-19). The use of the term here suggests that God gives Jesus in love to all people, but only believers accept the gift. Verse 16 also reiterates the theme of eternal life from v. 15, but advances the argument by naming the alternative to eternal life: to perish. This verse makes clear that there is no middle ground in the Johannine vision. God’s gift of Jesus, which culminates in Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension, decisively alters the options available to the world. If one believes, one’s present is altered by the gift of eternal life; if one does not believe, one perishes.

God’s gift of Jesus to the world begins the judgment of the world. Verses 17-21 explain this judgment and exemplify what is known as John’s “realized eschatology.” To speak of realized eschatology means that God’s judgment of the world is not a cosmic future event but is underway in the present, initiated by Jesus’ coming into the world. God sends the Son into the world in love in order to save the world, not condemn it (v. 17). Yet the very presence of Jesus as incarnate Word in the world confronts the world with a decision, to believe or not to believe, and making that decision is the moment of judgment. If one believes, one is saved; if one does not believe, one condemns oneself unwittingly (v. 18).

Light and Darkness. Verses 19-21 portray this intricate balance between judgment and decision in the metaphorical language of light and darkness. This language recalls the language and imagery of the Prologue (1:5, 9-10). To love darkness more than light is the same as not believing, and it results in judgment (v. 19). The way a person acts in the presence of the light is the defining mark of a person’s identity. Whether someone is good or evil is revealed solely by the decision he or she makes in the encounter with Jesus (vv. 20-21);86 it is not predetermined in advance. “In the decision of faith or unbelief it becomes apparent what [a person) really is and … always was. But it is revealed in such a way that the decision is made only now.”87 Christology and anthropology are thus inseparably linked in the Fourth Gospel. Who people are is determined by their response to Jesus. These verses provide a telling conclusion to the Nicodemus narrative. Nicodemus did not believe (3:12); therefore, he remains in the darkness. He came to Jesus at night and will stay in the night.

The Fourth Gospel does include traditional understandings of eschatology and the final judgment (5:28-29), but judgment and eternal life as present tense are at the theological heart of this Gospel. It is crucial for the Fourth Evangelist that God’s judgment of the world arises precisely out of God’s love for the world. When God sent Jesus into the world, God presented the world with a critical moment of decision. God sent Jesus to save the world, but each person must decide whether to accept that offer of salvation. The world will thereby judge itself in its response to Jesus. Decision and self-judgment define Johannine eschatology. As Bultmann has written eloquently, the Fourth Gospel expresses “a radical understanding of Jesus’ appearance as the eschatological event. This event puts an end to the old course of the world. As from now on there are only believers and unbelievers, so that there are also now only saved and lost, those who have life and those who are in death. This is because the event is grounded in the love of God, that love which gives life to faith, but which must become judgment in the face of unbelief.”

Image credit: Rublev, Trinity icon, 15the century, Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius, Moscow, Public Domain

The Discourse (part 2): lifted up to eternal life

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This coming Sunday is Holy Trinity Sunday.  The significance of the ascension of the Son of Man is elaborated through an OT example (Num 21:8-9). The key to interpreting this analogy between Moses’ lifting up of the serpent in the wilderness and the ascension of the Son of Man is the verb (hypsoō), meaning both “lift up” and “exalt.” (The Hebrew verb nāsā’ has a similar double meaning; see the pun based on this verb in Gen 40:9-23.) Once again the Fourth Evangelist asks the reader to hold two meanings together simultaneously. As the serpent was lifted up in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up on the cross. The double meaning of hypsoō implies, however, that the physical act of lifting up is also a moment of exaltation. That is, it is in the crucifixion that Jesus is exalted. John 3:14 is one of three statements about the “lifting up” of the Son of Man in John (see also 8:28; 12:32-34). These three sayings are the Johannine analogue to the three passion predictions in the synoptic Gospels (Mark 8:31; 9:31; 10:33.34; and parallels).

The overlap of crucifixion and exaltation conveyed by v. 14 is crucial to Johannine understanding of salvation, because the Fourth Evangelist understands Jesus’ crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension as one continuous event. Verse 14 also contains a key to the theological grounding of the Evangelist’s attraction to irony; the cross as humiliation is actually exaltation. This will become especially clear in the crucifixion narrative of John 18-19. The Fourth Gospel is often criticized for having an inadequate theology of the cross, but such criticism misconstrues the Johannine treatment of the crucifixion. As v. 14 makes clear, there is no exaltation apart from the crucifixion for John.

The overlap of crucifixion/exaltation also provides the context for interpreting the role of the ascent/descent language in v. 13 (and 1:51) and the Fourth Evangelist’s use of the title “Son of Man.” The Fourth Evangelist appropriates the traditional apocalyptic figure of the Son of Man (cf. Dan. 7:13) and invests it with his christological perspective. Ascent/descent language thus speaks of Jesus’ relationship to God and to the world. The Son of Man’s ascent to heaven is salvific, because he is the one who has descended from heaven, the very one whom the Prologue celebrates.

John 3:15 makes explicit the salvific dimension of the crucifixion. Jesus’ offer of his life through being lifted up on the cross makes “eternal life” (zōēn aiōnion) possible for those who believe. “Eternal life” is one of the dominant metaphors in the Fourth Gospel to describe the change in human existence wrought by faith in Jesus (e.g., 3:36; 4:14; 5:24; 6:27; 17:4). To have eternal life is to live life no longer defined by blood or by the will of the flesh or by human will, but by God (cf. 1:13). “Eternal” does not mean mere endless duration of human existence, but is a way of describing life as lived in the unending presence of God. To have eternal life is to be given life as a child of God. To speak of the newness available to the believer as “eternal life” shifts eschatological expectations to the present. Eternal life is not something held in abeyance until the believer’s future, but begins in the believer’s present. The focus on the crucifixion in 3:13-15 provides the key to interpreting Jesus’ earlier metaphors of new birth and the kingdom of God. The offer of new life, “to be born anal-hen,” has only one source—Jesus’ offer of his own life. The cross thus makes sense of the double meaning of anōthen: To be born from above is to be born again through the lifting up of Jesus on the cross.

Image credit: Rublev, Trinity icon, 15the century, Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius, Moscow, Public Domain

The Discourse

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This coming Sunday is Holy Trinity Sunday. At v. 11, the text shifts from a dialogue to a monologue. The dialogue between Jesus and Nicodemus alternated between Jesus’ offer of new birth (vv. 3, 5-8) and Nicodemus’s resistance (vv. 4, 9). The shift to the monologue allows Jesus’ voice to silence the voice of resistance. Jesus’ discourse runs through v. 21 and divides into two parts. Verses 11-15 interpret Jesus’ offer of new birth through his death, resurrection, and ascension, and vv. 16-21 focus on the theme of judgment.

We know. Jesus begins the discourse by speaking in the first-person plural. English translations of v. 11 mask the Greek word order. The translation “we speak of what we know ” flows in English, but the sentence literally reads, “what we know we say” (oidamen laloumen). This word order is important because it means that the beginning of Jesus’ discourse and Nicodemus’s opening words to Jesus (v. 3) are the same: “we know…. “ It is possible to read Jesus’ words as a continuation of the irony of v. 10; Jesus parodies Nicodemus’s assertion of his knowledge.

The first-person plural of v. 11 has another function. Jesus’ words in v. 11 are all words of witness: we know; we see; we speak; we testify. In its immediate context, Jesus’ “we” speaks for John the Baptist and the first disciples who have already borne witness to what they have seen. Jesus speaks for all those who have testified to this point in the Gospel narrative. In a broader context, however, Jesus’ “we” speaks for the witness of the early church. This “we” stands in contrast to the “we” for whom Nicodemus speaks: the synagogue. The church’s witness is contrasted with the non-responsiveness of the synagogue. Nicodemus and his community are representative of all who do not receive the church’s witness

Earthy and heavenly things. Jesus uses the expressions “earthly things” and “heavenly things” to summarize the witness that has already been given and the witness still to come (v. 12). “Earthly things” (ta epigeia) can be understood as referring to things about human beings, specifically the discussion of new birth in 3:3-8, whereas “heavenly things” (ta epourania) refers to things about God and Jesus to which Jesus has privileged access (1:18; 3:13) and that have not yet been revealed to Nicodemus and his community.

Jesus is the source of “heavenly things”: “No one has gone up to heaven except the one who has come down from heaven, the Son of Man.” This is the second time Jesus has spoken of himself as the “Son of Man” (see also 1:51) and both uses of the term are associated with language of heavenly ascent and descent. The Son of Man’s privileged access to God is expressed in spatial terms: The Son of Man moves between heaven and earth and brings the two together. The emphasis in this verse is on Jesus’ descent. Jesus knows heavenly things because he has descended; this contrasts Jesus with other figures who were believed to have ascended and through their ascents received heavenly knowledge. For example, Moses went up the mountain and then descended with God’s Word. The writings of Philo make clear that some Jews believed that Moses’ ascent gave him special status before God. Verse 13 underscores that Jesus first descended, then ascended.

Image credit: Rublev, Trinity icon, 15the century, Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius, Moscow, Public Domain 

The Dialogue Continues

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This coming Sunday is Holy Trinity Sunday. Nicodemus is oblivious to the two levels of meaning (John 3). He focuses on one meaning of “born anōthen” (“again”) and protests that what Jesus calls for is physiologically impossible (3:4). As in v. 2, Nicodemus’s categories of what is possible intrude into the conversation. On the level that Nicodemus understands Jesus’ words, Nicodemus’s protest is correct. It is impossible for a grown man to reenter his mother’s womb and be born a second time. Nicodemus’s protest is ironic, however, because his words are correct and incontestable on one level, but that level stands in conflict and tension with what Jesus intends by the expression “to be born anōthen.” Jesus’ words speak of a radical new birth, generated from above, but Nicodemus’s language and imagination do not stretch enough to include that offer.

Born of Water and the Spirit. In vv.5-8 Jesus provides a fresh set of images to move Nicodemus out of his misunderstanding. The expression “born of water and Spirit” (v. 5) interprets the phrase “to be born anōthen.” For the reader of this Gospel in the Christian community, the reference to water and the Spirit carries with it images of baptism.

Gail O’Day points out that the narrative also includes a listener, Nicodemus, who hears these words independent of any knowledge of Christian baptism.  She writes [550]:

Jesus’ words about birth from water and Spirit are comprehensible without a baptismal referent if one attends carefully to the verb for “born” (the passive of gennao ). In 3:4, Nicodemus drew Jesus’ attention to the birthing process with his words about his mother’s womb. The birth that Nicodemus envisions, the exit from the mother’s womb, is quite literally a birth out of water. The breaking of the waters of birth announces the imminent delivery of a child. In v. 5 Jesus plays on Nicodemus’s womb imagery to say that entrance into the kingdom of God will require a double birth: physical birth (“water”) and spiritual rebirth (“Spirit”). New life will be born from water and Spirit, no longer only from water. Yet the spiritual rebirth also does not void the physical birth. Spirit and flesh are held together; this is not a docetic understanding of human existence before God. Verse 6 supports this interpretation of v. 5, because its terms more directly underscore the two births of v. 5.

Most scholars see this as a secondary meaning at best – but then, most of them are men. Yet, the other scholars note that John is not “newspaper reporting” a conversation, but is in fact providing a narrative to the late 1st century church about meaning.

The early church clearly and indisputably understood baptism to be the sacramental enactment of Jesus’ promise of new birth. Thus baptismal reading as the primary meaning of  John 3:5-6 expands on the images of birth and new life that O’Day suggests are already contained in the text.

Born from Above as Born of the Spirit. In v. 7, Jesus returns to his initial metaphor, “you must be born anōthen “ The “you” is a second-person plural pronoun in the Greek, so that Jesus’ requirement of fresh birth is now addressed to the “we” of Nicodemus’s words in v. 2. Nicodemus resisted Jesus’ words about new birth the first time Jesus spoke them (vv. 3-4) and, in v. 7a Jesus warns him against repeating that response.

In v. 8, Jesus uses the image of the wind to explain the birth of which he speaks. The Greek word for “wind” (pneuma), like anōthen , has two inherent meanings; it means both “wind” and “spirit” (as does the Hebrew word ruah). Once again Jesus describes the new birth with a word that cannot be held to a single meaning. The word pneuma perfectly captures the essence of Jesus’ message: the wind/spirit blows where it wills; human beings can detect its presence but cannot chart its precise movements. Jesus’ offer of new birth is like the wind/spirit: a mystery beyond human knowledge and control.

Beyond our Understanding. Nicodemus responds to Jesus’ words exactly as Jesus warned him not to, in amazement. Nicodemus’s question in v. 9, “How can this happen?”  Once again his preconceptions of what is possible intrude on the conversation (cf. 3:2, 4) and prevent him from embracing Jesus’ words. One hears in Nicodemus’s incredulous question an echo of Sarah’s laugh in Gen 18:12. Nicodemus’s words of resistance are the last words he speaks in this story, although he will appear twice more in John (7:50¬52; 19:39-40).

Jesus responds to Nicodemus’s resistance with a quick and penetrating irony that characterizes much of the dialogue in the Fourth Gospel: “You are the teacher of Israel and you do not understand this?  (v. 10).  In 3:2-4 Nicodemus confidently asserted his knowledge of Jesus and God. Now Jesus turns that confident assertion back on Nicodemus. Neither Nicodemus’s credentials (Pharisee, ruler of the Jews, teacher of Israel) nor his self-professed knowledge have brought him closer to understanding Jesus.

Image credit: Rublev, Trinity icon, 15the century, Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius, Moscow, Public Domain

Being Born

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This coming Sunday is Holy Trinity Sunday. While in the earlier post we dedicated some time to “anōthen,” what about the significance of being “born,” whether it be again or from above. Every reference to gennao (“give birth”) in John 3 are passive (vv. 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8).  A good grammatical question to ask here is “who is the one who gives birth?”  Mary gave birth to Jesus – clearly here, Mary is the “actor.”  But in v.3 there is no clearly stated actor because the verbs are passively stated. The word gennao is used in John 1:12-13 where the “actor” is clearly defined: “But to those who did accept him he gave power to become children of God, to those who believe in his name, who were born not by natural generation nor by human choice nor by a man’s decision but of God.” The “actor” is God.

This quick grammar lesson indicates that being “born from above” is not something we do. It is something done to us (by God). In a similar way, being born the first time was not something we did. Our physical births were caused by powers far beyond our being. Being born is something that happens to us from powers outside of ourselves. We have to take that image seriously. The problem of some who claim to be “born again” is that it often becomes something they do. The etymology, grammar and the imagery of birth indicate that gennēthē anōthen is something God (the one “from above”) does to or for us.

Bruce Malina and Richard Rohrbaugh write about the importance of birth as status in Social-Science Commentary on the Gospel of John [p.82]:

“It is critical to recognize that the topic here is birth. Birth status was the single, all-important factor in determining a person’s honor rating. Ascribed honor, the honor derived from one’s status at birth, was simply a given. It usually stayed with a person for life. … To be born over again, born for a second time (one meaning of anōthen ), however unthinkable that event might be, would alter one’s ascribed honor status in a very fundamental way. A new ascribed honor status would derive from a new birth.

Thus, a second birth, especially if it differed substantially in honor level from the first birth, would be a life-changing event of staggering proportions.

Then they comment specifically about the transformation indicated in our text:

“To be born ‘from above’ — that is, to be born of the sky, of the realm of God — is to belong to that realm, to become a veritable child of God. This, of course, is to acquire an honor status of the very highest sort. … Thus, whatever honor status a person might have in Israelite society, being born “from above” would recreate that person at a whole new level. In addition, since all children of the same father share that father’s honor status, differences in status among “the children of God” obviously disappear, except for the firstborn.”

All that being said, in our day, “Have you been born from above?” or “Have you been born again?” are asking the right question.

How is all this relevant to the celebration of the Solemnity of the Trinity? As tomorrow’s post will make clear when the dialogue continues, the expression “born of water and Spirit” (v. 5) interprets the phrase “to be born anōthen.” One can begin to see how the larger gospel passage, just beyond the boundaries of the actual text that will be proclaimed, speaks directly to the Trinitarian life of a believer.

Image credit: Rublev, Trinity icon, 15the century, Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius, Moscow, Public Domain

Born anōthen

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This coming Sunday is Holy Trinity Sunday. Jesus’ response to Nicodemus’ opening greeting is bold, challenging and begins with the solemn “Amen, Amen…” 

3 Jesus answered and said to him, “Amen, amen, I say to you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born gennēthē anōthen .” 

The expression gennēthē anōthen can be translated as “born again” or “born from above.”  Some bibles opt for the “again” (TLW), some opt for “again” with a footnote to explain there is an alternative (RSV, NIV, TEV, NASB, ESV, KJV).  Others opt for “from above” without explanation (NAB, NJB) or with explanation as to the alternative (NSRV, CEV).

This double meaning is possible only in Greek; there is no Hebrew or Aramaic word with a similar double meaning. Jesus’ words to Nicodemus in v.3 are unavoidably and intentionally ambiguous because of the inherent double meaning of anōthen. It also fits a Johannine pattern of using such ambiguous language. The ambiguity of meaning is lost in English translations because the translators have to pick – and this favors – one meaning of anōthen in the text. At best they relegate the second meaning to a footnote. Translations have their limitations.

Neither understandings are meant to be primary or secondary but are meant to be heard simultaneously. Jesus’ expression “to be born anōthen, to be born from above/again” challenges Nicodemus to move beyond surface meanings to a deeper meaning. When English translations resolve the tension in Jesus’ words by reducing anōthen to one of its meanings, the challenge to Nicodemus (and to the reader) is lost. The intentional double meaning of anōthen must be kept in mind when reading this verse in order to discern Jesus’ full meaning and the nature of Nicodemus’s misunderstanding.

So – which is the better translation? This is a way of asking what is the answer Jesus intends as he asks the ambiguous question?  Let’s take a look. As to the word anōthen , the prefix ana (adverbial form: ano) generally means “up”. As in anabaino = “to go up” in contrast to katabaino – “to go down”. The adverb ano is used three times in John all in reference to something “up”.

  • 2:7 – They filled the jars with water to the brim (top)
  • 8:23 – “You belong to what is below [ek ton kato], I belong to what is above [ek ton ano], You belong to this world, but I do not belong to this world [ek tou kosmou].
  • 11:41 – Jesus raised his eyes up and said…

The suffix -then generally means “(motion) from (a place)”. It is used in pothen in v. 8. pou- = where? + -then = from — “You do not know from where the Spirit comes.” So, most literally, anōthen means “from up”. Besides its use in our text (vv. 3 & 7), it always has the sense “from up” in John.

  • 3:31 – The one who comes from above is above [epano] all. The one who is of the earth is earthly and speaks of earthly things. But the one who comes from heaven is above [epano] all.
  • 19:11 – You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above.
  • 19:23 – The garment was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom.

As you might infer, I favor “from above” as a primary meaning. But then language is fluid. In the context of Greek, as in English, there are idioms such as the phrase “from the top” which can mean “start from the beginning” or “do over”. So anōthen can also mean, “again” or “anew.”  Depending on how you understand the context will lead you to take one meaning as primary. But that is from the hearer’s perspective. From the speaker’s point of view, the very use of the word may well intend neither, but rather is the “bait” which will reveal the listener’s heart and understanding. What will Nicodemus hear?  Did Jesus mean/did Nicodemus understand “from above” (= from God) or  “again” (= a second time, starting over)?

As will (hopefully) become clearer, I understand this passage as Nicodemus being offered a choice – a spiritual choice or a more secular one – to be born again. Given that, while I understand and accept the question, “Have you been born again?” It is ironic (to me) that this question is rooted in Nicodemus’ misunderstanding.  Such are the limitations of translation and the power of the accepted narrative and popular expression.

Image credit: Rublev, Trinity icon, 15the century, Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius, Moscow, Public Domain