John the Evangelist (fl. 1st Century)
“For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life.” (Gospel According to St. John, ca. A.D. 67)
Christ instructing Nicodemus, by Jacob Jordaens.
Thirty years have passed since Jesus, nailed to a cross, died with groans, then astonished his followers by rising from the dead and ascending into heaven before their faces. His close disciple John is writing a memoir of the master whom he knew and loved so well. Some such memoir is needed, for the Gospel has radiated outward from Jerusalem among people in distant lands—people who need to know the facts of Christ. Unless John writes down his memories soon, they will be lost. While still middle aged, he is not getting any younger.
John’s inside account of Jesus and his entourage will appear to future ages to be quite independent of other memoirs which preceded it. What is more, without realizing it, John leaves clues by which future generations will be able to date his composition. For example, literary detectives in the distant future will deduce that the book was composed after the death of Peter because its epilog clearly suggests that Peter has already been crucified. This places the final composition after A.D. 65, when the tyrant Nero executed the apostle. On the other hand, the books was probably completed before the fall of Jerusalem in A.D. 70 because it gives no hint whatsoever of that catastrophe and indeed mentions such details as: “at the sheep gate of Jerusalem there is a place with five colonnades,” something which will no longer be true once the city falls. Consequently some scholars will later reckon that the book was written— or at least completed—between A.D. 66 and 68.
John knows nothing of the questions which his writing will raise. He writes in simple Greek—not the Greek of the classics, but the Greek of everyday citizens throughout the Roman empire. Nonetheless, with his simple Greek and limited vocabulary, he expresses some of the most profound thoughts of the Bible. Clearly he has reflected deeply on the words and incidents of Jesus’ life.
One of his stories describes the night visit of a leading teacher of the Jews—Nicodemus, one of the strict, legalistic Pharisees. In their longing for salvation, Pharisees like Nicodemus attempted to obey every law as interpreted and extended by their scribes. Under the scribes, the 600 or so commands of the Old Testament grew to thousands. Keeping them all was impossible. Did Nicodemus feel this? Did he see a freedom of perfection in Christ which suggested a way out? Whatever his motivation, he came to Jesus one night. Perhaps he came at night not to be seen, or because he thought night the best time to have a long, uninterrupted talk.
John, writing his memoir, does not answer such questions. Instead he shows his readers that in answer to Nicodemus’ unspoken question, Jesus immediately confronted him with an essential fact of Christianity—a fact emphasized by several other New Testament authors: the Christian life requires a radical renewal from within, a re-creation, a new birth. “I tell you the truth, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God,” declared Jesus. And what is this kingdom? It is obeying God totally—the very thing Nicodemus desired, else why had he become one of his nation’s few, elite Pharisees? While Nicodemus wrestled with the modus operandi of this radical transformation, Jesus showed him it must be by the Holy Spirit. Nicodemus then asked how the Holy Spirit can do what He does, but Jesus retorted with a question of his own: how could Nicodemus, a religious leader in Israel, not understand something so basic? After all, the new birth takes place on earth—not in heaven.
To Jesus, Nicodemus’ question was driven by deliberate unbelief—an unbelief Jesus described as a preference to remain in the dark on spiritual matters. Jesus, by contrast, claimed to speak on salvation and the Spirit from first-hand knowledge: he was a heavenly man.
John, compiling his memoir under the influence of the Holy Spirit, explains why Christ appeared on earth. In Moses’ time, God punished an Israelite rebellion by sending a plague of serpents. The rebels cried out for relief. God granted it by having Moses cast a bronze image of a snake and affix it to a pole. Anyone, anywhere in the camp, who was bitten by the snakes, needed only to turn and look at the snake on a pole to be healed.
In the same way, Jesus had to be lifted up (crucified) on a pole for all men to see. Just as the bronze serpent on its pole brought life, the Son of God on his pole brings eternal life. Why? Because God the Father sent him, the Son, to rescue men: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life. For God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved.”
Future generations will read this as the key text of the entire New Testament, a summary of the Gospel, and the beginning of an explanation of all previous scriptures, too. Many theological theories will attempt to explain how Christ’s death avails for our salvation. Ultimately the explanation is less important than the fact. In Christ’s death, a believer dies to sin. In Christ’s resurrection, a believer is raised to new life. John declares that believing in Christ is the key to salvation.
—Dan Graves
