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

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

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 

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

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

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

This coming Sunday is Holy Trinity Sunday. In John 3:1-21, the focus shifts from the interaction of the many with Jesus to Jesus’ interaction with a single individual, Nicodemus.  What follows seems to naturally divide into two parts: vv. 1-10, the dialogue between Jesus and Nicodemus; and vv. 11-21, a discourse/commentary by Jesus. This text is the first instance of a common Johannine pattern of a central event, in this case a dialogue, followed by a discourse that draws general theological themes out of the particular event.

The opening verses (vv.1-2) present both positive and negative images of Nicodemus. On the positive side, Nicodemus, a Jewish leader (v. 1), seeks out Jesus. To seek Jesus, as noted earlier (1:38), is one of the first acts of discipleship in John. On the negative side, however, Nicodemus  hides his seeking under the cloak of night (cf. the night visit of King Zedekiah and Jeremiah, Jer 37:16-21). This reference to the time of Nicodemus’s visit is neither an incidental detail nor an attempt at historical reporting. Rather, it provides a clue to the significance of this story for the Fourth Evangelist. “Night” (nyktos) is used metaphorically in the Fourth Gospel to represent separation from the presence of God (9:4; 11:10; 13:30). The symbolic significance of this night visit is confirmed by 3:19-21, which condemns those who prefer darkness to light.

The dialogue is initiated by Nicodemus’s pronouncement about Jesus’ identity in v.2, but Jesus’ response in v. 3 shifts the initiative away from Nicodemus. As the dialogue unfolds, Nicodemus’s speech is reduced to questions (vv.4, 9), while Jesus’ speeches become progressively longer, leading finally to the discourse that begins in v.11.

Nicodemus’s opening words to Jesus in v.2b contain three positive acknowledgments of Jesus’ Identity.

• First, Nicodemus calls Jesus “Rabbi,” an address that acknowledges Jesus as a teacher (cf. 1:38, 49).
• Second, Nicodemus acknowledges that Jesus is a “teacher who has come from God.” Although “from God” is a traditional way of speaking of religious figures as God’s emissaries (e.g., John the Baptist in 1:6), that Jesus’ origin is from God is also a crucial Christological affirmation in the Fourth Gospel (e.g., 1:1, 18; 3:31; 6:38; 7:28-29). Nicodemus’s words here are like Caiaphas’s words in 11:50: the full truth is unwittingly told.
• Third, Nicodemus speaks to Jesus in the first-person plural (“we know”). Nicodemus does not speak to Jesus simply as an individual, but as a leader of his community, who at this point has a positive view of Jesus.

While Nicodemus’s words are positive, they are however based on Jesus’ signs (v.2b). From 2:23-25, the reader knows that Jesus will not entrust himself to those whose faith is based on signs. Nicodemus’s confident assertion of who Jesus is (“we know”) is thus immediately called into question by the warrants he offers for that knowledge: Jesus’ signs. Moreover, Nicodemus assumes that he can explain what Jesus does through his preconceived categories of the possible (“no one can do these signs” v.2). This certainty about what is and is not possible with God will be challenged as the dialogue with Jesus unfolds.

What unfolds is a leader of the Jews has come to Jesus – albeit timidly – to begin a dialogue. But this is Jesus who understood human nature and so he does not respond directly to Nicodemus’s acknowledgment of him. Instead, he challenges Nicodemus with a teaching – one that directly challenges Nicodemus’ world view. It is as if Jesus is saying “You want to see heaven? You think you ‘know’ what is necessary? Hardly, you must be born anōthen (more on that later).”  Each of Jesus’ teachings in John 3:1-11 begins with the introductory formula “Amen, amen” (here in v. 3, later in vv.5, 11). Jesus’ teaching here combines the traditional image of the kingdom of God with a new metaphor, “to be born anōthen”.

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

This coming Sunday is Holy Trinity Sunday. The fuller story of the gospel begins at the end of John 2 where we encounter the gospel writer’s closing statement (vv. 23-25). What seems clear is that a lot more than the temple cleansing took place during Jesus’ visit to Jerusalem for this first Passover festival.  There is the one recorded sign at Cana; otherwise the record is silent. Yet, the evangelist, while recording no details, goes on to write “many began to believe in his name when they saw the signs he was doing.”  Even though many began to believe in Jesus, “Jesus would not trust himself to them.”

These verses suggest that Jesus did not yet see a clear basis for an enduring relationship of faith with the people.  They were enthralled by the signs, but Jesus knows they will always want one more – there will always be one more thing in the way of commitment.  Only later does Jesus express the bases of that lasting, committed relationship:  “You are my friends if you do what I command you. I no longer call you slaves, because a slave does not know what his master is doing. I have called you friends, because I have told you everything I have heard from my Father”   (John 15:14–15).

Jesus well understands human nature (2:25) – and that is perhaps the overriding narrative of this section of the Fourth Gospel: the response of human nature in coming face-to-face with the Messiah. The majority of John 3 describes Jesus’ encounter with the Jewish leader Nicodemus – a prestigious man “in the know” forms one response. John 4, the encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well, points to a different response of human nature.

One way these verses are connected is the double “we know,” uttered by Nicodemus in 3:2 and by Jesus in v. 11. The first person plural, “we,” indicates that both are representing groups – perhaps the distinction between Jewish and Christian leaders, perhaps the subtle difference between thinking that Jesus is just a “teacher who has come from God” or that Jesus is the one who has “descended from heaven,” who will be “lifted up,” and through believing him one has eternal life – the difference between Jesus as a human teacher or the divine savior.

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

This coming Sunday is Holy Trinity Sunday which is celebrated on the first Sunday following Pentecost in most of the liturgical churches in Western Christianity. It is a solemn celebration of the belief in the revelation of one God, yet three divine persons. It was not uniquely celebrated in the early church, but as with many things the advent of new, sometimes heretical, thinking often gives the Church a moment in which to explain and celebrate its own traditions; things it already believes and holds dear. In the early 4th century when the Arian heresy was spreading, the early church, recognizing the inherent Christological and Trinitarian implications, prepared an Office of Prayer with canticles, responses, a preface, and hymns, to be recited on Sundays to proclaim the Holy Trinity.  Pope John XXII (14th century) instituted the celebration for the entire Church as a feast; the celebration became a solemnity after the liturgical reforms of Vatican II.

In the shadow of Pentecost and the dramatic coming of the Holy Spirit, the following week seems a fitting place to pause, as it were, and place it all in a context of salvation history. Perhaps that is why the second reading was selected and says it so well: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.” (2 Cor 13:13). It ties together the first reading and psalm which point to the working of God before the coming of the Christ as well as our gospel reading, a short passage from the John 3:16-18:

16 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. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him. 18 Whoever believes in him will not be condemned, but whoever does not believe has already been condemned, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. 

John 3:16 is perhaps one of the most promoted of all gospel passages. The University of Florida quarterback, Tim Tebow, wore this gospel passage as part of his eye-black during an NCAA national championship game. The next day “John 3:16” was the most single-day queried passage in internet history.

If one looks at the three readings for the solemnity, it is summary of salvation history with a
“capstone” provided by the gospel passage.

But part of a whole

When one does a commentary on a gospel passage, one of the first tasks is to mark the beginning and end of the cohesive unit that the gospel writer intended. Our gospel reading is but three verses of a much larger unit. The unit begins with John 2:23 “While he was in Jerusalem for the feast of Passover…” marking a shift from the Johannie scene in which Jesus cleanses the Temple of the money changers et. al. and preparing us for John 3, the first of the discourses: Jesus and Nicodemus. This unit stretches from John 3:1 through to 3:21.  Our gospel is intimately connected to the scene of Moses lifting up the serpent in the desert  – “So must the Son of Man be lifted up  so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life. (vvv.14-15).  It is the dialog with Nicodemus that gives our gospel its fuller and context.

Note: there is a lot to cover and so some days there will be multiple posts.

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

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. Continue reading →