The implications of being the Son of Man.

John 5.24-29.

On occasion I’ll hear some Christian preacher claim that Jesus referring to God as “Father”—whether he’s talking about God as his Father, or God as our Father—was a wholly unique thing in history; that somehow the Jews had never before imagined God as their Father. It’s not true—

Deuteronomy 32.6 KJV

Do ye thus requite the LORD, O foolish people and unwise? is not he thy father that hath bought thee? hath he not made thee, and established thee?

Psalm 89.26 KJV

He shall cry unto me, Thou art my father, my God, and the rock of my salvation.

Isaiah 63.16 KJV

Doubtless thou art our father, though Abraham be ignorant of us, and Israel acknowledge us not: thou, O LORD, art our father, our redeemer; thy name is from everlasting.

Isaiah 64.8 KJV

But now, O LORD, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.

Malachi 1.6 KJV

A son honoureth his father, and a servant his master: if then I be a father, where is mine honour? and if I be a master, where is my fear? saith the LORD of hosts unto you, O priests, that despise my name. And ye say, Wherein have we despised thy name?

—but man do preachers like to claim it.

Anyway, Jesus regularly refers to God as our Father, and specifically his Father… but whereas we humans are just creations and adoptive children of our heavenly Father, Jesus is something significantly different. He’s the Son of God. And no, not just “Son of God” in the sense we see in Psalm 2, where the king of Israel is especially adopted by God as his son, and therefore “Son of God” is just a royal title like Messiah. Nope; in the trinity there’s a Father and Son, and the Son became human, and that’s Jesus of Nazareth. He’s fully God same as his Father is fully God.

In John chapter 5, Jesus explains some of that idea. And it’s a doozy of an idea. Pretty sure it broke the brains of most of the Judeans he said it to. Because Jesus is making some pretty cosmic declarations about himself. He already said in the last bit the Father shows the Son everything he does, Jn 5.20 the Son’s gonna raise the dead, Jn 5.21 the Son’s gonna judge the world, Jn 5.22 and you’d better recognize the Son’s authority if you respect the Father. Jn 5.23

Oh, and at the End, the coming in the clouds of the Son of Man? Da 7.13 That’s Jesus. He’s the Son of Man. Did you not notice he constantly calls himself “the Son of Man”? He doesn’t do it to remind people he’s human; anybody who looked at him could tell he was human. He does it to remind people he’s that guy. The guy who does all this:

John 5.24-29 KWL

24 “Amen amen! I promise you the one who hears my word,

and trusts the One who sends me,

has life in the age to come

and doesn’t go into judgment.

Instead they passed from death into life.

25 Amen amen! I promise you the hour comes, and it’s now,

when the dead will hear God’s Son’s voice,

and those who will hear it, will live.

26 For just as the Father has life in himself,

likewise he gives life to the Son to have in himself.

27 The Father gives the Son power to make judgments,

because he’s the Son of Man.

28 Don’t be amazed by this, because the hour comes

in which everyone in the sepulchers

will hear the Son of Man’s voice

29 and come out—

those who do good, into resurrection life;

those who do little, into resurrection judgment.”

You realize this discussion started because some people got bent out of shape over Jesus curing the sick on sabbath. And people think I go off on tangents. Jesus went from, “My Father worketh hitherto, and I work” Jn 5.17 KJV to “Oh and just to remind you, I’m the Son of Man.”

It’s weird how various pagans will insist Jesus was only a great moral teacher and nothing more, when Jesus straight-up tells people he’s going to raise the dead, judge humanity, and rule the world. And people don’t dismiss him as a demonized madman and stone him to death, because he just cured a guy who was unable to walk for 38 years, and demonized guys can’t do that. The only ones who can do that, outside of hospitals, were empowered by God—and for all you know, might actually be the great End Times figure whose everlasting kingdom shall not be destroyed. Da 7.14

The implications of being God’s son.

John 5.17-23.

After Jesus cured some guy at a pool, the Judeans objected because he’d done so on sabbath. Now in the synoptic gospels, Jesus’s defense was usually along the lines of, “Curing the sick is a good deed, and doing good deeds on sabbath doesn’t violate the Law.” In John however, his defense is entirely different:

John 5.17-18 KWL

17 Jesus answers them, “Even today, my Father works.

And I work.”

18 So this is why the Judeans are seeking all the more to kill him:

Not only is Jesus loosening sabbath custom,

but he’s saying God is his own father,

making himself equal to God.

Y’see, there’s a really profound legal concept embedded in Jesus’s statement, “My Father worketh hitherto, and I work.” Jn 5.17 KJV It’s something you’re gonna miss if you don’t understand how adoption in the Roman Empire worked. Instead you’re gonna wind up making the foolish assumption many an Evangelical has: They think Jesus told the Judeans, “God’s not bound by your customs and Law, and neither am I.” Therefore he can break the Law. With impunity. Kinda like they do.

If Jesus is claiming he has the almighty prerogative to do as he pleases, including break whatever commands he wished, then Jesus could sin like crazy. It’s why lawless Christians love this interpretation—it gives them license to sin like crazy. Grace forgives everything, right? So let’s get nuts!

It turns Jesus into a major jerk—which is an obvious sign that’s not what he meant. If any interpretation of God violates his character, it’s wrong. It’s based on our bad attitudes, not his.

Jesus isn’t claiming he can do as he pleases. He’s claiming he does as the Father does. And the Father is benevolent, kind, generous, compassionate, forgiving. He does good deeds every day of the week, sabbath included. Ever been sick, and got well on a Saturday morning? Looks like God cured you on sabbath too.

Likewise Jesus is kind. His goal is always to demonstrate his Father’s love, and in so doing reveal who the Father is, and the sort of kingdom the Father’s given him to rule. Bear that in mind whenever you read the gospels.

Okay, on to what Jesus actually means. And why it outraged the Judeans.

“But you cured them on 𝘴𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘩.”

John 5.8-16, Luke 13.10-17.

So Jesus goes to Jerusalem and cures some guy at a pool. I’ll quote the pertinent part:

John 5.8-9 KWL

8 Jesus tells him, “Get up.

Pick up your bed and walk.”

9 At once the person becomes whole.

He picks up his bed and walks.

It’s the sabbath on that day.

In case you missed it, the last line of verse 9 points out that day was sabbath. That’d be Saturday, the seventh day of the week; the day on which the LORD told Israel he wanted ’em to not work. There’s a whole command about it:

Deuteronomy 5.12-14 KJV

12 Keep the sabbath day to sanctify it, as the LORD thy God hath commanded thee. 13 Six days thou shalt labour, and do all thy work: 14 but the seventh day is the sabbath of the LORD thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, nor thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thine ox, nor thine ass, nor any of thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates; that thy manservant and thy maidservant may rest as well as thou. 15 And remember that thou wast a servant in the land of Egypt, and that the LORD thy God brought thee out thence through a mighty hand and by a stretched out arm: therefore the LORD thy God commanded thee to keep the sabbath day.

Everybody got that? No worky. Not you, nor your kids, nor your employees, nor your animals, nor “shabbos goys”—which is what certain American Jews call their gentile friends who do things for ’em on sabbath so they won’t break the command. They might think having their gentile neighbor pick up a pizza for ’em isn’t suborning a commandment violation. But it totally is.

Pharisees got mighty specific about what constitutes rest. The Mishna has a whole section, or tractate, called Shabbát. It’s all about what you can and can’t do on sabbath. There are 39 specific Pharisee rules about what not to do. No planting, plowing, reaping, gathering, threshing, winnowing, etc. Picking up your bed broke the 39th rule: No moving something from one significant place to another.

Yet here was this guy, carrying his bed. Because Jesus, who cured him, told him to do it.

John 5.10-13 KWL

10 So the Judeans are telling the cured person, “It’s sabbath!

It’s not right for you to pick up your bed.”

11 The cured person answers them, “He who makes me whole—

that person tells me, ‘Pick up your bed and walk.’ ”

12 They question him, “Who is the person

who tells you, ‘Pick it up and walk’?”

13 The cured person didn’t know who Jesus is,

for Jesus slipped into the crowd in that place.

The man at the pool.

John 5.1-9.

There are two back-to-back stories of Jesus curing people in John, but because they’re in two different chapters, Christians tend not to nice they’re right by each other. On purpose. ’Cause they happen some time apart. The first, where Jesus cures a royal’s son, happens in western Galilee right after they got back from Jerusalem. The second, where Jesus cures a weak man at a pool, takes place back in Jerusalem—either at the next festival where they were expected to go to temple, or several festivals later; maybe even years later. We don’t know.

The situation is this: Jesus is back in Jerusalem, and in Jerusalem there’s a pool. The UBS and NA Greek New Testaments identify it as Βηθζαθά/Vithzathá, although most bibles go with the name given by the Textus Receptus, Βηθεσδά/Vithesdá (KJV “Bethesda”) and other ancient copies of John call it Βηθσαιδά/Vithsedá, Βηδσαιδά/Vidsedá, Βηδσαιδάν/Vidsedán, and Βελζεθά/Velzethá. All of these are attempts to transliterate the Aramaic name בית זיתא/Beit Cheytá, the name of a district in first-century Jerusalem which Josephus calls “the New City.” The district was next to the Roman fortress, Antonia, located on the NNW corner of the temple mount, and the pool was within this district. It was created around the 700s BC as a reservoir for rainwater, and around 200 BC the head priest, Simon bar Onias (also known as Simon 2), had a second pool created just south of it. Scholars figure it was so one pool could hold warm water, and the other cold, so you could bathe in whatever temperature you pleased.

Because it’s by the Sheep Gate, popular legend says the pool was created to wash sheep before their ritual sacrifice. Problem is, the pool is 13 meters deep, which is more appropriate for drowning sheep. So no, it’s likely not for washing animals. (That’s what they used Siloam for.) More likely this pool was mainly used for ritual washing. People had to get ritually clean before they could go to temple, so here’s where they did it.

The Israel Museum’s model of the “Pool of Bethesda” during the first century. Without the water of course. John describes it with five colonnades—the four around the whole complex, and one in the middle over the wall between the pools. [Wikimedia]

After the Romans destroyed Jerusalem, the pool was made part of a pagan temple to Asclepius and Serapis, the Roman and Egyptian gods of healing. When the Roman Empire became Christian, it was turned into the Church of the Sheep, which was destroyed in 614 by the Persians. The Crusaders rebuilt it as a smaller church, the Church of the Paralytic, which fell into disuse after the crusaders built the larger Church of St. Anne nearby. That church was renovated by the French in the 1800s, but the rest remained ruins, later to be excavated by German archaeologist Conrad Schick.

Today, the Sheep Gate is known as the Lion’s Gate (Hebrew שער האריות/shahar ha-Arayót), named for the leopard carvings in the stone above it, which get confused with lions. It’s the entrance to the Muslim quarter. The pool’s still there, as part of the St. Anne’s church complex.

But let’s get back to Jesus’s day. At that time, the pool was a healing pool: Sick people gathered round it, hoping for a miracle.

John 5.1-4 KWL

1 After these events there’s a Judean feast,

and Jesus goes up to Jerusalem.

2 A pool is in Jerusalem, by the Sheep Gate

—in Aramaic it’s called Beit Cheytá—

having five colonnades.

3 Under these colonnades lay a large number

of weak, blind, lame, shriveled people,

{waiting for the water to move.

4 For an angel comes down to the pool at times,

and agitates the water,

so the first who enters after the water is agitated

becomes whole from whatever ailment he has.}

Verses 3B–4 first appeared in fourth-century copies of John, and were of course added to the Textus Receptus. They provide kind of a backstory to why all these people were gathered round the pool: Whenever the water moved, they figured an angel was causing it, and hoped it’d heal them. My only problem with this theory is it sounds a lot like pagan superstition; like something the Greeks would claim. “Look, a lesser god is moving the water! Jump in!” But is that what people believed in the first century? Or what people believed in the fourth century, after a few centuries of Greco-Roman pagans had overseen the pool, and added their own superstitions to the pool’s history?

Now we do know the water was agitated, for that’s what the weak man says. Jn 5.7 But it didn’t have to be roiled up by an angel. It coulda happened whenever the water was replenished. Or when an attendant dumped a bunch of bath salts into it. Or when crowds of people came to town and needed ritual washing. Anything coulda moved the water—and people might figure, “Fresh water” or “Ritual washing” or “Fresh salts” or any of those things might somehow make the water holier, and therefore more likely to cure ’em.

But the angel story has been in bibles, including the Vulgate, for a mighty long time. And you know how people are with favorite traditions: They’re loath to give ’em up, no matter how wrong and misguided they might be.

Still, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if this was a myth these sick people believed. They wanted to get well, and healthcare didn’t exist back then. Their “physicians” were actually witch doctors, and had no real medical nor scientific training. Their faith healers might be legit—might actually have the Holy Spirit empowering them—but then again might not, or might be frauds. So what other options did you have? Well, there was a rumor if you got in the pool at just the right time, you’d get cured. So here they were.

If it all sounds hopeless to you—and it kinda does to me too—y’notice the people gathered round the pool had to have some small degree of hope, or they wouldn’t be there! (Or, which is just as likely, their family members wouldn’t carry them there, day after day, in the hopes something might happen.) Hey, what else are you gonna do? Who else are you gonna turn to?

So this is the depressing situation Jesus walked into one day… to bring somebody out of it.

The first time Jesus cured anyone.

John 4.46-54.

While Jesus and his students were staying in Cana (where they didn’t respect him as a prophet, so he didn’t have to deal with people seeking “Jesus the Prophet” all day), a certain royal showed up. Probably specifically to seek him out: Someone did respect Jesus the Prophet.

John 4.46 KWL

46 Jesus goes again to Cana of Galilee,

where he made the water wine.

A certain royal is there,

whose son in Capharnaum is sick.

John calls him a βασιλικὸς/vasilikós, “a royal.” Not a king, but someone in the royal family; debatably a servant in the royal household, but that’s far less likely. Could be someone who might actually become king himself someday, but if that’s so you’d think John woulda named names.

Both John Wycliffe and the Geneva Bible translated vasilikós as “little king.” But for some reason the King James translated it “nobleman,” and that concept has kinda stuck in translators’ heads ever since. You get “royal official” (Amplified, CSB, NASB, NET, NIV, NRSV), “government official” (ISV, GNB, and NLT), plain ’ol “official” (ESV), and of course “nobleman” (NKJV, MEV).

Regardless, he was a big deal—and word leaked to him Jesus might be the sort of person who could do miracles. And when you’re desperate, you’ll jump all over that sort of rumor. So this royal saddled up, rode 30 kilometers across the province, and called upon some obscure Nazarene rabbi.

John 4.47 KWL

Once this royal heard

Jesus comes from Judea to the Galilee,

he goes to Jesus

and asks whether Jesus might come down

and cure his son,

for he’s about to die.

Prophets get no respect back home.

John 4.43-45.

Right after Jesus spent two days with the Samaritans of Sykhár, sharing the gospel of God’s kingdom with ’em, he needed a break. So he returned to his homeland—the western side of the Roman province of the Galilee. More precisely Cana (today’s Kfar Kanna), 4 kilometers north of Nazareth, where he’d done the water-to-wine thingy.

Time to quote the gospel.

John 4.43-45 KWL

43 After the two days, Jesus comes out of Samaria,

and he goes into the Galilee.

44 For Jesus himself testifies that prophets,

in their own homeland, have no respect.

45 So when Jesus comes to the Galilee,

the Galileans receive him:

They saw everything he did in Jerusalem at the festival,

for they likewise went to the festival.

The part which tends to throw us Christians is Jesus’s comment “that a prophet hath no honour in his own country.” Jn 4.44 KJV Because in the synoptic gospels, Jesus says it like it’s a bad thing—

Mark 6.4 KWL

Jesus tells them this:

“A prophet isn’t really disrespected

till he’s in his homeland,

and with his relatives,

and in his own home.”

 

Matthew 13.57 KWL

They’re offended by him, and Jesus tells them,

“A prophet isn’t really disrespected

till he’s in his homeland,

and in his own home.”

 

Luke 4.24 KWL

Jesus says, “Amen! I promise you this:

A prophet never gets approval in his homeland.”

—because in those contexts, it was a bad thing. In each of these gospels, Jesus was teaching in the Nazareth synagogue, Lk 4.16 and his neighbors couldn’t handle the fact these teachings and revelations were coming out of him. Who’s he? What’s the handyman Mk 6.1 (or handyman’s son Mt 13.55) doing announcing God’s kingdom has arrived? In Luke they even tried to push him off a cliff. Lk 4.29

I don’t know whether the incident at the Nazareth synagogue took place before this John passage. It might have, but I don’t think so: One of the Nazarenes’ objections was they wanted Jesus to duplicate the miracles he’d done in Capharnaum, Lk 4.23 and in John he’s not even been to Capharnaum yet, and done no such miracles. Jn 4.54 But by that point it appears he already had made the quip that prophets get no respect back home.

Historically, Christians have interpreted this to mean familiarity breeds contempt. Jesus’s neighbors presumed they knew him—and “knew” he wasn’t anyone important. And took offense at the very idea he might be. Who’d he think he was? What, did he think he was better than them? How dare he.

Seeing Jesus for ourselves.

John 4.39-42.

After Jesus’s talk with the Samaritan at the well, she left her water jar, went to the nearby city of Sykhár, and told everyone there about him:

John 4.29 KWL

“Come! See a person who tells me everything I do.

Might this be the Christ?”

Well, it might be! So the Samaritans come to the well to see Jesus for themselves. And yeah, he’s not Samaritan, but he’s a prophet; he’s willing to talk God with them, and not shun them like Judeans typically do, and for all we know he cured a few sick people. (Yeah, John later describes “the second miracle that Jesus did,” Jn 4.54 but that’s the second miracle in the Galilee; John doesn’t bring up any miracles he did in Judea and Samaria.)

Anyway, everything Jesus says and does among the Samaritans convinces ’em.

John 4.39-42 KWL

39 Many of the Samaritans from this city believe in Jesus

because of the word of the woman,

testifying this: “He tells me everything I do.”

40 So when the Samaritans come to Jesus,

they ask him to stay with them.

He stays there two days,

41 and many more believe because of his word.

42 They’re saying this to the Samaritan woman:

“No longer do we believe because of your saying,

for we heard him

and knew this is truly {the Christ,} the one who saves the world.”

“The Christ” in braces isn’t in the original test of John; it was added in the fifth century, which is why it’s in the Majority Text and the Textus Receptus, and therefore the King James Version. Occasionally, paranoid Christians will insist present-day bibles are trying to make it sound like the Samaritans didn’t really believe Jesus is Messiah. But of course they did: They said he saves the world. Exactly as Messiah, or the Samaritans’ prophesied prophet-like-Moses whom they called the Tahéb (which, it turns out, is also Jesus), would do.

Most Christians commend the Samaritans for coming to check out Jesus for themselves. We like the idea it wasn’t enough for the Samaritans to only take the woman’s word for it—they needed to personally interact with Jesus, and base their belief in him on that. Not that the woman’s testimony is irrelevant!—it got ’em to the well. It’s just her testimony was now superseded by personal experience.

Funny thing, though: Even though we Christians go on and on about how good it was for the Samaritans to do this… many of us turn round and object when our fellow Christians try to get our own personal God-experiences. When we say, “Okay, I’ve heard other Christians’ testimonies; I’ve read the scriptures. But now I wanna hear the Holy Spirit’s voice myself. Now I wanna pray for sick people and watch ’em get cured. Now I want supernatural stuff to happen. If Jesus says these things will follow his followers, Mk 16.17-18 we should see ’em, right?”

I grew up hearing many a cessationist object strongly to this line of thinking: “Personal experience? No no no! Satan will trick you and lead you astray! Besides, personal experience is way too subjective, too insubstantial, too open to interpretation. We can’t base our faith on that. It’s gotta be the bible. Only the scriptures are concrete and safe. We can’t trust personal experience.”

You know… the opposite of what we commend the Samaritans for doing.

Jesus harvests the Samaritans.

John 4.31-38.

Gonna rewind a little to a verse I dealt with previously, in which Jesus’s students come back, see him talking to a Samaritan, and say nothing.

John 4.27 KWL

At this time, Jesus’s students come,

and are wondering why he’s speaking with a woman.

Yet no one says, “Whom do you seek?”

nor “Why do you speak with her?”

The Samaritan leaves, and tells the nearby town she’s encountered a prophet who might be Messiah—as Samaritans understood Messiah. They decide to have a look at Jesus for themselves. Meanwhile Jesus’s students now decide to question him.

John 4.31-34 KWL

31 Meanwhile the students question Jesus,

saying, “Rabbi, eat.”

32 Jesus tells them, “I have food to eat,

which you didn’t know about.”

33 So the students are saying to one another,

“No one brought him food, did they?”

34 Jesus tells them, “My food

is that I might do the will of the One who sends me,

and might complete the work for him.”

Most interpreters figure when ἠρώτων/iróton, “they question,” the students are asking Jesus to eat, but nah; they’re urging him to eat at the same time they’re asking him stuff. Rabbinic students back then were trained in the Socratic-style method of questioning your teacher what you wanted to learn. When the Samaritan was there, the students kept their mouths shut and asked nothing. Once she was gone, now the questions came.

And there are a few reasons why this might be so:

• POLITENESS. Jesus was busy talking with her; don’t interrupt your master. Listen to what he’s doing or saying. Ask your questions afterward.
• SHYNESS. Jesus was cool with them asking him absolutely anything, but they didn’t know nor trust her to not judge ’em for what they were gonna ask.
• SHAME. This one’s popular with certain commentators, who presume the students were embarrassed by Jesus once again ignoring Pharisee custom. I would think they’d’ve known their master by now.
• HUMILITY. Y’notice Pharisees would object to Jesus’s behavior whenever he interacted with “sinners.” Mk 2.16 Not to ask legit questions; frequently to accuse him of stuff, and rant about the things which personally offended them. But Jesus’s students knew him well enough to know he always had good reasons. And good character; he didn’t sin, He 4.15 so you never had to police him to make sure he wasn’t backsliding. They knew better than to presume he’d sin.
• PATIENCE. And because they knew their master, they knew whenever he violated Pharisee custom, he was trying to teach them something, and expected the kids to ask him about it afterward. So they took time to come up with questions.
• TIRED. This one’s also popular with certain commentators: They’d been walking, they were hungry, they didn’t wanna get another lesson right then. They wanted to sit, drink some water, eat some falafel, take a big fat nap till the heat died down, then get back on the road to Galilee. If they realized a lesson was coming, they possibly thought—as kids will—“If we just keep quiet, maybe he’ll drop it, and we’ll get out of it.” Yeah right.

Anyway, the questions began, and Jesus’s lesson followed.

The first time Jesus called himself Messiah.

John 4.25-30.

After meeting Jesus and realizing he’s a prophet, this Samaritan woman he met at Jacob’s well tried to get him to settle which temple was the correct one— the one at Shechem or the one at Jerusalem. Jn 4.20 Jesus pointed out it’s neither. Jn 4.21 God wants worshipers “in spirit and truth,” Jn 4.22-23 who can worship him anywhere. In temple, out of temple; in church, out of church.

But since Jesus didn’t give her the answer she was expecting, and kinda appeared to side with the Judeans, Jn 4.22 the Samaritan did the intellectual equivalent of shrugging her shoulders:

John 4.25 KWL

The woman tells Jesus, “I know Messiah” (i.e. Christ) “comes;

when this man comes, he’ll explain everything.”

“Yeah, you don’t know. But Messiah will know. And when he arrives, he’ll tell us which temple is the right one.”

As I’ve said previously, Samaritans didn’t believe in a Judean-style Messiah. Their bible only went up to Deuteronomy, so there were no actual Messianic prophecies. They believed in the Tahéb, a prophet-like-Moses Dt 18.15 who’d come at the End Times and sort everything out. And since the Tahéb was sorta anointed by God, the word “anointed” (ܡܫܺܝܚܳܐ/mešíkha in Aramaic/Syriac, χριστός/hristós in Greek) would be a valid synonym for Tahéb. Maybe the Samaritan did say Mešíkha, which is why John rendered it μεσσίας/messías, “Messiah.” Maybe she said Tahéb and John translated it. Doesn’t matter. After all, Jesus is the prophet-like-Moses; Ac 3.22-26 he is the Tahéb. So we’re fine either way.

Hence Jesus’s response to her apathetic statement. When Messiah arrives, he’ll tell you which temple is the right one? Well Messiah has arrived.

John 4.26 KWL

Jesus tells her, “I’m him.

I’m speaking to you.”

Mic drop.

Yeah, various skeptics insist Jesus never actually called himself Messiah. They insist Jesus never made any such claim about himself, never even hinted he might be Messiah; that it’s an idea added to Christianity decades later by overzealous apostles. Probably Paul. They really like to blame Paul for all the parts of Christianity they don’t like.

Thing is, Paul wrote his letters before his fellow apostles wrote the gospels. He wrote ’em in the 40s and 50s CE; the gospels were written in the 60s. The circulation of Paul’s teachings were simultaneous with the circulation of Jesus’s teachings; they still are, ’cause they usually get bound together in the New Testament. But when the ancient Christians first heard about Jesus, it was usually in the context of something Paul taught or wrote. Because they go together. It’s not “Jesus said this, but Paul said that”; it’s “Jesus said this, and here’s Paul’s commentary”—they uphold each other. Can’t have Christ without his Christians.

Okay yes, Jesus never literally says the words, “I’m Messiah” (or ἐγώ Μεσσίας, or ܐ݈ܢܳܐ ܡܫܝܚܐ) in the gospels. Largely because if he did say that, he could get arrested and killed for treason against Rome. But he functionally says the very same thing: “I’m him. I’m speaking to you.” It’s as close to “I’m Messiah” as we’re gonna get from Jesus, and the Samaritan clearly understood him—and ran with it.

Literally ran with it: She abandoned her water jar, went into the Samaritan city which she had been deliberately avoiding all this time, and told everyone.

Worship God in spirit and truth.

John 4.19-24.

Since Jesus is a prophet, the Samaritan at the well figured she’d grill him on a then-current Samaritan/Jewish controversy: Which temple is the real temple? Which religion is the true religion? Where’s the one-and-only-one place to serve God? ’Cause Judeans said Jerusalem, and Samaritans said Shechem. Can’t both be right. Right?

John 4.19-20 KWL

19 The woman tells Jesus, “Sir, I see you’re a prophet.

20 Our ancestors worshipped on this mountain.

You Judeans say in Jerusalem

is the place where we have to worship.”

You might remember the Judeans had a temple. Originally it was a tent, “the tabernacle,” the LORD’s sacred portable temple which traveled with the Hebrews after the Exodus, and stayed at a few different locations for nearly five centuries… till Solomon ben David built the LORD a permanent, gold-covered cedar shrine at some point round 1000BC. This remained standing till the neo-Babylonians burnt it to the ground in 586BC.

But it was rebuilt twice: First in 516BC under Babylonian governor (and descendant of Solomon) Zerubbabel bar Shealtiel; then renovated top to bottom by the Herod family during Jesus’s lifetime, from 20BC to 64CE. Completed just in time to be destroyed six years later by the Romans.

The Samaritans opposed Zerubbabel’s first rebuilding. Eventually they decided to build their own temple, round 432BC. They built it on Mt. Gerizim in Shechem, the hill where Moses had the Hebrews proclaim God’s blessings. Dt 11.29 Since God’s name was proclaimed from there, the Samaritans figured this was the perfect place for the LORD’s name to dwell. Not Moriah, where King David had originally purchased a threshing floor to put an altar. 1Ch 21.28, 22.1 David, the Samaritans figured, picked the wrong site. Moses had picked Gerizim, so Gerizim it was.

You might not know these weren’t the only temples of the LORD in the ancient world. Jeroboam ben Navat, after he became king of the 11 northern Israeli tribes, built two temples—one at Dan in the north, Bethel near the southernmost part of his kingdom. This was so his people wouldn’t visit the Jerusalem temple for worship… and maybe get swayed by the kings of Jerusalem, and become a political problem for him later. Nope; now northern Israel had temples, so they could worship at home! Problem was, Jeroboam also included gold calves to represent God, 1Ki 12.26-29 which you might recall is a huge no-no. Dt 5.8-10 As far as the scriptures are concerned, these temples were heretic, and ultimately destroyed when the Assyrians invaded.

And in Egypt, Israeli communities there also created temples to the LORD, in Elephantine and Leontopolis. Both Judeans and Samaritans knew of them, and Flavius Josephus wrote about ’em. But both considered these Egyptian temples heretic, insisting there’s only one place where God would establish his name. Dt 12.11 And they ran that one place. Or figured they did.

So… which temple was the right one? (Yep, you betcha this was an orthodoxy test. Better answer correctly, Jesus!)

John 4.21 KWL

Jesus tells her, “Trust me, ma’am, the hour is come

when neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem

will you worship the Father.”

Wait, neither? Yep.

Jesus prophesies to the Samaritan.

John 4.13-19.

Back to Jesus talking with the Samaritan at the well. He tells her about the water of life, and since they’re at a literal well, it’s fair to say she might not wholly understand he’s speaking in metaphor, as he tends to do. Because her focus isn’t a future kingdom of God; it’s on the here and now, and right now she’s at the well fetching water.

John 4.13-15 KWL

13 In reply Jesus tells her, “All who drink of this water

will thirst again.

14 Whoever might drink of the water I give them,

will never thirst in the age to come,

but the water I’ll give them

will become a spring of water within them,

gushing with eternal life.”

15 The woman tells Jesus, “Sir, give me this water!—

so I might not thirst,

nor travel to this place to get water.”

A number of interpreters take this statement the Samaritan made—“Give me this water”—at face value. I don’t. You’ll see why in a moment. But at this point, she’s treating Jesus as if he’s some weirdo… because to her mind, he is some weirdo. Judeans never talk to Samaritans. Yet here’s some rogue Judean who’s talking to her about installing a spring inside her. “Uh-huh. Sure. Yeah, you have water. If you do, I’d like some; fetching water is a pain.”

Ironic answers aren’t actually honest answers, and Jesus realized she didn’t really believe him, and that’s why he decided to “read her mail,” as prophets call it nowadays.

John 4.16-19 KWL

16 {Jesus} tells her, “Go;

call for your man,

and come back to this place.”

17 In reply the Samaritan tells him, “I have no man.”

Jesus tells her, “Well said, ‘I have no man’;

18 you had five men,

and the one you now have isn’t your man.

You said this truthfully.”

19 The woman tells Jesus, “Sir, I see you’re a prophet.”

And now he has her attention. “I see you’re a prophet”? Well duh Jesus is a prophet.

Christian evangelists should be taking notes about now. Too often we try to share Jesus with skeptical people, who think all our claims about who Jesus is and what he does are ridiculous, and aren’t receptive to it whatsoever. Rocky soil. And too often, these evangelists will try platitude after platitude, proof text after proof text, and the person will shrug it all off like Superman does with bullets.

But tell them something we can’t possibly know about them, and suddenly they go, “Wait—who told you that?” The Holy Spirit. He’s real; he’s been getting you ready for this conversation your entire life; you finally wanna hear what he has to say?

So when you’re sharing Jesus, pay attention to the Spirit! He’ll tell you whether this person is receptive or not—and if he tells you something completely random, like “She’s had five men,” don’t just dismiss it as too weird to share: Tell her that, and watch the reaction. (Although, a word of advice? Don’t bring up her relationship history when other people are around. Be discreet like Jesus.)

Anyway that’s why I figure her previous statement, “Give me this water,” was ironic: It wasn’t a truthful response. “I have no man”—now that’s a truthful response.

And from here on out, you’ll notice the Samaritan takes Jesus seriously.

The Samaritan at the well.

John 4.1-14.

Just to remind you: Ancient Israelis (i.e. Judeans and Galileans) and Samaritans did not get along. Same as Israelis and Palestinians don’t get along; same as white nationalists and black nationalists don’t get along; same as cats and birds don’t get along. There was a lot of paranoia, fear, and dangerous old grudges between those two groups.

That’s why it was just dumbfounding for one Samaritan woman, one day, to find a man of Judean descent striking up a conversation with her. Asking her for water, of all things. As if he actually trusted her not to spit in it.

John 4.1-10 KWL

1 Once {the Lord} Jesus knows

the Pharisees hear Jesus makes and baptizes more students than John—

2 though Jesus himself isn’t baptizing,

but his students are—

3 Jesus leaves Judea,

and again goes off to the Galilee,

5 and he has to travel through Samaria.

So Jesus comes to a Samaritan city called Sychár,

which is near the field Jacob gave to his son Joseph.

6 Jacob’s spring is there.

Jesus, fatigued by his long walk, is therefore sitting at the spring.

It was about the sixth hour after sunrise [i.e. noon].

 

7 A woman from Samaria comes to get water.

Jesus tells her, “Give me some to drink”—

8 for his students went into the city

so they might buy food.

9 So the Samaritan woman tells Jesus,

“How can you even be near me, Judean, and ask for a drink?

—me being a Samaritan woman?

For Judeans have no interaction with Samaritans.”

10 In reply Jesus tells her, “If you knew God’s gift,

and knew who’s telling you, ‘Give me some to drink,’

you could ask him,

and he could give you living water.”

Most translations of John have “For Judeans have no interaction with Samaritans” not as something the Samaritan said, but as John’s commentary on the situation. The word συγχρῶνται/synchrónte also means “work together with,” or “have use of”—the two people-groups really did have nothing to do with one another. Each did their own thing… or, of course, fought.

Obviously this woman didn’t recognize Jesus’s accent, or she’d’ve known he was Galilean, not Judean. Not that it would make any difference. Samaritans and Galileans didn’t interact either.

But as we already know about Jesus, he does interact with Samaritans. He came to save everybody, y’know; not just the people of his homeland! Samaritans too. Jesus doesn’t do nationalism or racism, and those who claim to follow him should likewise have no interaction whatsoever with those things—even less interaction than Judeans had with Samaritans.

John the baptist’s shrinking ministry.

John 3.26-36.

When John and his students were baptizing in Enon-by-Saleim, the students came to John to tattle on Jesus:

John 3.26 KWL

The students come to John and tell him, “Rabbi,

‘the one who comes after you,’ Jn 1.15

of whom you testified beyond the Jordan:

Look, he’s baptizing.

And everyone is coming to him.”

John’s response was to remind them what he had always taught: His job is to prepare people for Messiah—and here’s Messiah! Why on earth weren’t they rejoicing? He was.

John 3.27-30 KWL

27 In reply John says, “A person can’t receive anything

unless it had been given to him out of heaven.

28 You yourselves witnessed me say this:

‘I’m not Messiah.’

But I’m the one sent before this person—

29 the one who has the bride.

He’s the groom.

The groom’s friend, who stood and hears him with joy,

rejoices at the sound of the groom.

So this is my joy, fulfilled.

30 This person must grow larger.

And I must shrink.”

I once heard a commentator claim there are no parables in the gospel of John. I don’t know what book he was reading; John has plenty of parables and analogies in it. John uses one right here, to compare himself and Jesus to a groomsman and a groom. (The KJV uses “bridegroom,” because back in 1611, a “groom” meant a caretaker; usually the employee who fed and brushed your horse.)

In our culture, a wedding is the bride’s party; less so (sometimes far less so) the groom’s. Ancient middle easterners did it just the opposite: It was the groom’s party. It was at his house; he hosted it; he bought the food and drinks. And God’s kingdom is not John’s party; it’s the king’s. John’s a groomsman, and happy to see his friend so happy.

This was always John’s role. And goal! Unlike most ministers, who die long before their work ever gets fulfilled, John got to see the fruits of his labors: He got to see the Messiah he’d been proclaiming for years. And his first thought isn’t, “Well now what do I do with my life?” It’s kinda obvious, isn’t it? It’s to celebrate!

No, John didn’t disband his ministry and start traveling with Jesus himself. That wasn’t his duty. He was to keep doing as he was doing, and keep pointing people to Messiah. But people would stop following him, and start following Jesus, as was always the plan. Not only was John fine with this, he deliberately sent his own students to follow Jesus instead. Follow the king, not the king’s herald.

Few Christians nowadays are as fine with this as John was. When another ministry grows larger than ours, or supersedes what we’re doing by doing it better, we don’t always respond, “Wonderful! This’ll do so much more for the kingdom than I could.” More often: “Who the hell are they? Who do they think they are? We were the ones toiling in the heat of the day, and they just swoop in and have this huge success? Oh no. They need to respect us. They need to get in line. This is our territory. These are our sheep.”

No it’s not, and they’re not. Everything belongs to Jesus. Either we’re working for him, and always have been; or we aren’t, and were always really working for ourselves. If our beloved boss promotes someone else, either we trust he knows best—like we’ve been claiming he does all this time!—or we never really did trust him; it was all hypocrisy.

Basically whenever Christians get jealous fellow Christians, we’re never being jealous for Jesus. We’re actually being jealous of Jesus. We want the success—not for his sake, but for our own. If it’s for his sake, we’ll be thrilled when any fellow Christian, any sister church, any Christian ministry, is doing well. Their successes are our successes, for we’re all on the same team.

Unless we’re not. Unless, instead of groomsmen, we’re there to compete with the groom for his bride.

Jesus and John go baptizing.

John 3.22-26.

After the discourse with Nicodemus, Jesus and his students went traveling around Judea, baptizing.

Yes, baptizing. You know, like John the baptist had. Really. It’s in the gospel of John:

John 3.22 KWL

After these things,

Jesus and his students go into the Judean countryside.

They’re staying there with the Judeans,

and are baptizing.

I use “countryside” to translate γῆν/yín, “earth.” Basically it’s everywhere in Judea that’s not Jerusalem. The gospel of John spends a lot of time in Judea, because John was trying to correct the misconception we might get from the other gospels, that Jesus spent all his time in the Galilee and Dekapolis, and never went to Judea till Holy Week. Nope; he was in Jerusalem for all the festivals, same as any devout Jew. And sometimes longer, visiting friends.

Here John says they were baptizing. Now, John makes it clear a bit later that it’s Jesus’s students actually doing the baptizing, not Jesus himself. Jn 4.2 But don’t you get the idea Jesus didn’t approve of it! He absolutely did. He got baptized, by John. You recall he also told his students much later: When you make new students, baptize ’em in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Mt 28.19 And they did. Ac 2.38 And still do.

Now, the other thing to be aware of is we’re not yet talking about Christian baptism; this isn’t our sacrament where a new Christian declares they’ve renounced sin and trust Jesus and intend to follow him. This is still John-style baptism. These were people who’d likewise renounced sin, and intended to now follow the Law of Moses. Likely the students doing all the baptizing were former John students, who were simply doing as the prophet had taught ’em: Whenever somebody repents, put ’em in the water and ritually cleanse them. Give ’em an experience, which’ll help ’em remember the new commitment they made.

On occasion you’ll find a Christian who gets dismissive of John’s baptism. Mostly because they figure Jesus, or Christian baptism, supersedes it. Which yeah, it kinda does… but it kinda doesn’t. It’s still valid to turn away from sin and follow God; it’s just we now know the way to follow God is by following Jesus, not the Law. Follow a person, not a text… one we can way too easily poke loopholes into.

Vinegar to drink.

Mark 15.23, 26, Matthew 27.33-34, 48, Luke 23.36, John 19.28-30

Back when David was in deep doo-doo, Ps 69.2 he wrote Psalm 69 to gripe about his enemies. But when he talked about his comforters, Ps 69.20 he commented,

Psalm 69.21 KWL

They gave me bitter food,

and for my thirst, they made me drink vinegar.

It’s a memorable idea, and one which no doubt the authors of the gospels thought of when Jesus was getting crucified. ’Cause Jesus didn’t wanna drink what they provided.

Our culture might be unaware: Back then, you didn’t drink the water. You never knew where it came from, and rarely was it pure. Fastest way to get dysentery or cholera. So the ancients drank wine, either full-strength or watered-down. (Or beer, if your culture made beer.) The alcohol killed any bacteria. Ignore all those teetotalers who claim “wine” back then was actually grape juice: Grape juice was as potentially harmful as water. It needed to be wine.

The gospels aren’t consistent in how they describe the wine Jesus was offered. Mark called it myrrh-wine and Matthew called it wine with χολῆς/holís, “bile.” For Luke and John, it was really old wine, which both of ’em straight-up called ὄξος/óxos, “vinegar.”

Mark 15.22-23 KWL

22 They bring Jesus to Gulgálta Place (i.e. Skull Place).

23 They’re giving Jesus myrrh-wine, which he doesn’t take.

 

Matthew 27.33-34 KWL

33 Coming to the place called Gulgálta, called Skull Place,

34 they give Jesus wine to drink—with bile mixed in,

and on tasting it he didn’t want to drink.

 

Luke 23.36 KWL

They mock him. The soldiers who came were bringing him vinegar…

John states they added hyssop, but the KJV changes John’s account to “[a branch] of hyssop,” Jn 19.29 KJV to sync it up with Mark and Matthew’s account of putting the wine in a sponge, putting the sponge on a reed (or a hyssop stick, I suppose), and offering it to Jesus. But hyssop is also a bitter extract, and may be what Matthew meant by bile. I dunno.

Mark 15.36 KWL

One of the runners, filling a sponge of vinegar,

putting it on a reed, gives Jesus a drink,

saying, “Let me do this;

we might see if Elijah comes to take him.”

 

Matthew 27.48 KWL

One runner quickly leaves them:

Taking a sponge full of vinegar,

putting it on a reed, he gives Jesus a drink.

 

John 19.28-30 KWL

28 After this Jesus, knowing everything was now finished,

says to fulfill the scripture, “I thirst.”

29 A full jar of vinegar is sitting there.

So a sponge full of vinegar, with hyssop put on it, is brought to Jesus’s mouth.

30 When he tastes the vinegar, Jesus says, “It’s finished.”

He bends his head and hands over his spirit.

Yeah, the soldiers and their runners offered Jesus vinegar more than once.

Certain commentators claim the myrrh in the wine was meant to be medicinal. Supposedly the Romans, feeling a little bad for their victims, wanted to numb them just a little to the excruciating pain of crucifixion. Man, is that optimistic of the commentators. Ask your local supplier of essential oils: Myrrh is no painkiller. It wasn’t even a folk-remedy painkiller. The ancients used it as perfume—to keep wounds and medicines from smelling bad. From there, moderns leap to the conclusion it was kind of an antiseptic—it kept wounds from getting infected and gangrenous, right? But it didn’t do that at all: It hid the smell of wounds which were getting septic. It made you worse, not better. Despite your favorite websites, myrrh has no proven purpose in medicine.

So what was it doing in the wine? Myrrh is bitter. (So’s hyssop.) It made the wine taste like bile. And when people taste bile, what do they do? They gag: It tastes like vomit. They’ll frequently even vomit.

Yep, it was the Romans’ sick little joke. The victims got thirsty and begged for wine… so you gave ’em myrrh-wine, and watched ’em freak out. Arguably that was why they put the vinegar in a sponge on a reed: It wasn’t because the crosses were impractically tall. It’s because the soldiers didn’t wanna get puked on.

Wasn’t Jesus thirsty?

Christians sometimes think there’s a serious discrepancy in the gospels’ stories of Jesus’s crucifixion. ’Cause in Mark and Matthew, Jesus refused to drink anything. But in John, he declared “I’m thirsty!” and drank the vinegar. Or wine, depending on the translation—and upon whether the translators could imagine Jesus willingly drinking vinegar.

I’ve heard interpreters claim Jesus refused the wine because he didn’t wanna be numbed. He wanted to really suffer all the pain he was going through, with senses entirely intact. (Or as intact as they could be, considering all the blood loss.) He was dying for our sins here, and he wanted sin to suffer on its way down. So no alcohol, no myrrh, no nothing. Bring on the pain!

There’s a bothersome amount of sadomasochism in this interpretation, which says all sorts of creepy things about the preachers. There’s plenty of suffering involved in public rejection, flogging, and crucifixion. Jesus was going down hard. Bad wine and a mild sedative weren’t gonna make things better.

But again, that wasn’t the Romans’ motive at all. They weren’t trying to be light on their victims. They figured every crucified person was an annoyance or danger to Rome, and deserved what they were getting. They’d just beaten Jesus up for fun. They were still having fun at his expense, gambling for his clothes, mocking the title which Pilatus had fastened to the cross. Myrrh-wine wasn’t a mercy. It was more sick fun.

So you can see why Jesus initially wouldn’t touch the stuff. Of course he was thirsty. But not that thirsty.

That is, till the very end. John said he decided to drink the vinegar to fulfill the scriptures. Jn 19.28 Maybe he meant the Psalms passage, where David’s enemies made him drink vinegar. But maybe it’s also this passage:

Mark 14.24-25 KWL

24 Jesus tells them, “This is the blood of my relationship, poured out for many.

25 Amen: I promise you I’ll never drink of the fruit of the vine again—

till that day when I drink it new, in God’s kingdom.”

I admit that’s a stretch though. John never quoted that statement, and you know he totally would have if it were relevant. I have nonetheless heard it preached that Jesus was willing to drink the wine because it was finished: He was dying, God’s kingdom was coming into the world, and all things were being made new. He drank it in victory… though it sure didn’t look like any victory at the time. But meh; I don’t buy it.

Is there an inconsistency between Jesus’s declaration, “I’ll never drink of the fruit of the vine again,” and drinking the vinegar? Maybe. But I expect, and most Christian expect, Jesus was speaking of proper wine. The festal stuff, which you drink at Passovers and holidays. Not the awful swill the Romans were providing.

In any event he probably did have the Psalms passage in mind when he drank the vinegar. Here the Romans were, offering him phony comfort. But it was deliberately made bitter, and was just another form of torment.

So Jesus put it off till the very last minute, did the deed and fulfilled the verse… then gave up the ghost.

Jesus prays at Gethsemane.

Mark 14.32-41.

St. Francis’s stations of the cross begin with when Jesus is given his cross. (Duh; it is the stations of the cross.) But Jesus’s suffering actually began earlier, so St. John Paul’s list also begins earlier—with Gethsemane, the olive garden on Mt. Olivet, where Jesus prayed he might not go through the crucifixion.

Mark 14.32-41 KWL

32 Jesus and his students come to a field

whose name is Gat Semaním/“oil press.”

He tells his students, “Sit here while I pray,”

33 and Jesus takes Simon Peter

and James and John with him.

He begins to be distressed and troubled.

34 Jesus tells his students, “My soul

is intensely sad, to the point ofdeath.

Stay here and stay awake.”

35 Going a little further, Jesus is falling to the ground

and is praying that, if it’s possible, the hour might pass him by.

36 Jesus is saying, “Abba! Father!

For you, everything is possible!

Take this cup away from me!

But it’s not what I will,

but what you will.”

 

37 Jesus comes and finds his students sleeping.

He tells Peter, “Simon, you’re sleeping?

You can’t stay awake one hour?

38 Stay awake and pray!—

lest you come to temptation.

You have a truly eager spirit—

and weak flesh.”

 

39 Going away again, Jesus prays,

saying the same words.

40 Coming back again, Jesus finds his students sleeping,

for their eyes are very heavy.

They didn’t know how to answer him.

41 Jesus comes back a third time,

and tells his students, “Sleep the rest of the time.

Get your rest.

It’s enough.

…The hour comes.

Look, the Son of Man is betrayed into sinners’ hands.”

This story comes up in the synoptic gospels. It’s not in John, whose author had to do things his own way:

John 18.1 KWL

Upon saying these things,

Jesus goes with his students over the Kidron ravine,

where there’s an olive garden.

He enters it,

and his students follow.

John Paul recognized this is the beginning of Jesus’s passion, not when he was sentenced to death later that night. ’Cause that’s what the gospels depict: He went into the garden to pray, and suddenly it’s like he’s blindsided with emotion. It freaked him out a little. He wanted to pray; he wanted his kids to pray for him. But as people do when they’re up past their bedtime praying (and not just kids; don’t just blame this on their spiritual immaturity), they fell asleep on him. Three times.

Still, Jesus was really agitated, and John Paul recognized it’s this psychological trauma which marks where Jesus’s suffering began. Not just when he was taken away to die.

How much of the Nicodemus discourse did Jesus say?

John 3.1-21.

There’s a big debate among bible scholars, and you’ll see it reflected in various bible translations: How much of Jesus’s talk with Nicodemus consists of a direct quote from Jesus? Does Jesus stop talking in verse 15, and the rest is the apostle John’s commentary? Or is it all a Jesus quote?

You can see this when you compare bible translations. Some translations make it all a Jesus quote; some don’t. Check out the English Standard Version and the New International Version.

John 3.1-21 ESV 1 Now there was a man of the Pharisees named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews. 2 This man came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with him.” 3 Jesus answered him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.” 4 Nicodemus said to him, “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?” 5 Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. 6 That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. 7 Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’ 8 The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” 9 Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” 10 Jesus answered him, “Are you the teacher of Israel and yet you do not understand these things? 11 Truly, truly, I say to you, we speak of what we know, and bear witness to what we have seen, but you do not receive our testimony. 12 If I have told you earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you heavenly things? 13 No one has ascended into heaven except he who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. 14 And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, 15 that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. 16 “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. 18 Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. 19 And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil. 20 For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed. 21 But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God.”

John 3.1-21 NIV 1 Now there was a Pharisee, a man named Nicodemus who was a member of the Jewish ruling council. 2 He came to Jesus at night and said, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with him.” 3 Jesus replied, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.” 4 “How can someone be born when they are old?” Nicodemus asked. “Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother’s womb to be born!” 5 Jesus answered, “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. 6 Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. 7 You should not be surprised at my saying, ‘You must be born again.’ 8 The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” 9 “How can this be?” Nicodemus asked. 10 “You are Israel’s teacher,” said Jesus, “and do you not understand these things? 11 Very truly I tell you, we speak of what we know, and we testify to what we have seen, but still you people do not accept our testimony. 12 I have spoken to you of earthly things and you do not believe; how then will you believe if I speak of heavenly things? 13 No one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heaven—the Son of Man. 14 Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, 15 that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.” 16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. 18 Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son. 19 This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. 20 Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed. 21 But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God.

Heck, in the Word Biblical Commentary, commentator George R. Beasley-Murray ends Jesus’s statement with verse 12, and “Nobody’s risen up to heaven…” etc. Jn 3.13 is all John.

Why’s this a big deal? Honestly, it’s really not. Whether Jesus said it or John said it, it’s still Spirit-inspired bible, and just as valid. Doesn’t matter whether the Spirit moved John to write it, or Jesus personally taught it to Nicodemus. Ultimately the ideas originate with God.

But you know how Christians get sometimes: If it’s in the red letters, it’s extra important. Because Jesus said it. Since we need to especially pay attention to Jesus’s teachings, we need to exalt ’em far more highly than if some ordinary apostle wrote it, whether that apostle is John, Paul, George, Ringo, Luke, Matthew, Sosthenes, Mark, Peter, James, Timothy, Silas, Jude, or whoever wrote Hebrews.

Lifting Jesus exposes the world’s darkness.

John 3.17-21.

God will judge the world at the end of time. Rv 20.11-15 But too many Christians have the false belief, and wanna have the false belief, and promote the false belief, that God is judging the world right now. Because they’re judging the world right now. It’s pure projection.

In contrast, Jesus says multiple times he isn’t here to judge the world, but save it. True of his first coming; true of his second. He’s coming back to save the world again; not by defeating sin and death again, but by personally leading all his followers (well, the ones who aren’t secretly hypocrites) to actually love our neighbors, make peace, and legitimately fix the world’s problems instead of sitting around waiting for him to do something. You know, do what he’s always taught us to do.

But since it’s way easier to just condemn the world and wash our hands of it, we usually do that. And adopt any beliefs which tell us Jesus thinks exactly like we do—that when he returns, he’s gonna burn the world down, kill all the wicked, and set up a New Jerusalem with only them in it. It’s a graceless, and therefore sick ’n twisted ’n totally unlike Jesus, version of things. It’s not good news; it’s evil.

In Jesus’s discourse with Nicodemus, he once again says it: His mission is to save the world. For God so loved the world that he saves those who trust him. Jn 3.16 And for those who don’t really trust him—including all the Christians who preach their own sick ’n twisted “gospel” instead of what Jesus actually teaches, because they don’t trust Jesus enough to actually care what he teaches—Jesus doesn’t have to judge them. Their actions pretty much do that for him.

Back to the discourse:

John 3.17-21 KWL

17 “For God doesn’t send his Son into the world

to judge the world,

but so that, through him, he might save the world.

18 One who trusts the Son is not judged.

One who doesn’t trust him, was already judged—

because they didn’t trust the name

of the only begotten Son of God.

19 This is the judgment:

The light came into the world.

People love the darkness more than the light,

for their works are evil.

20 Everyone who dabbles in meaningless stuff

hates the light,

and doesn’t come to the light

lest their works be rebuked.

21 One who does the truth

comes to the light,

so their works might be made known

because they were a labor done in God.”

Now this passage tends to confuse certain Christians—and certain pagans love to play dumb and deliberately let it confuse them—because in verse 17, Jesus says he’s not here to judge the world. (Or condemn the world; κρίνῃ/kríni, “he might critique,” can be translated either way.) Yet even though he says he’s not judging the world… verse 18 sure does make it look like he’s judging people who don’t trust him, and verses 19-21 sure do make it look like he’s judging people who embrace darkness instead of light.

But lemme point out the verb tenses here. Jesus isn’t here to (present-tense subjunctive) judge the world; but one who doesn’t trust the Son of God (perfect passive) was already condemned, at some point in the past. It’s the difference between a defendant on trial, and a convicted felon: One has yet to be judged, and the other’s been judged. And Jesus isn’t involved in either dude’s judgment. He’s actually here to save them both: If the convict wants parole, turn to Jesus! And if the defendant wants the verdict set aside, turn to Jesus!

So how do we know who’s a convict and who’s not? Simple. Jesus is the world’s light. If they’re not a convict, they’re happy to be in the light; it proves God is living and active in their lives. Jn 3.21 And if they are a convict, it’s just the opposite; they stick to the shadows, so they can hide their hypocrisy and disguise it as Christianity.

For God so loves the world.

John 3.14-17.

One of the first memory verses Christians are encourage to put into their brain is John 3.16, which many of us have memorized in the King James Version:

John 3.16 KJV

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

I’ve heard a number of sermons and sermon series about this verse. I’ve read entire books written about this verse. I’ve watched a crappy video series about this verse, which featured some really bad actors in a really long one-act play about how important this verse is. And many an Evangelical Christian has told me this is the gospel, all summed up in one verse. This is the good news. This is Christianity.

Yeah, it’s not. The gospel is what Jesus says it is, and he articulated it in Mark 1.15.

Mark 1.15 KJV

And saying, The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand: repent ye, and believe the gospel.

The kingdom of God is at hand. Not that John 3.16 is an unimportant or irrelevant verse at all! It tells us something vitally important about how the kingdom works—namely that we gotta believe in Jesus. And it reminds us a significant component of the kingdom is the age to come. But John 3.16 doesn’t mention the kingdom, and if you don’t know God has a kingdom and Jesus is its king, you don’t have the gospel. You have something about the gospel, but you’re missing a bunch of vital details.

In context, this verse comes in the middle of Jesus instructing Nicodemus, right after he objected to people who think they know it all, and therefore won’t listen to him. He knows what heaven is like, for that’s where he came from. He knows his Father, and if you know him you’ll know his Father too. He is the only one who can make clear sense of God. So you kinda have to pay attention to him. And lift him up so others can see him, listen to him, and trust him too.

John 3.14-17 KWL

14 “Same as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness,

it’s likewise necessary to lift up the Son of Man,

15 so everyone who trusts in the Son of Man

{might not be destroyed,

but} might have life in the age to come.

16 For this is how God loves the world.

Therefore he gives his only-begotten Son,

so that everyone who trusts in him

might not be destroyed,

but might have life in the age to come.

17 For God doesn’t send his Son into the world

to judge the world,

but so that, through him, he might save the world.”

We gotta look at Jesus. He defines Christianity. Not a bible verse; not even a particularly good bible verse. Not a church, not a movement, certainly not popular Christian culture. Jesus alone; Jesus’s teachings and actions and life and power. That’s why God sent his Son into the world—to give us someone to follow and mimic.

Unfortunately too many people have bent this verse a whole bunch, and got us to focus not on Jesus’s life, but entirely on Jesus’s death.

It’s hard to teach people whose minds are made up.

John 3.9-13.

When Nicodemus came by night to suss out Jesus, our Lord began their discussion by talking about getting born again. Because we gotta be born again. Flesh and blood can’t inherit God’s kingdom. 1Co 15.50

Evangelical Christians tend to claim “being born again” is purely a spiritual transformation. Not a radical change of character into one which produces good fruit. Not a resurrection into eternal life. It’s how they avoid both trying to develop good fruit, and adopting a proper view of the second coming instead of the End Times bloodbath they’re kinda fantasizing about in which Jesus smites all their political foes.

Being born again is a deep, challenging idea. Which Nicodemus balked at… as people will do when they’re confronted with something which demands real, transformative change of them. He began with the typical skeptic’s joke of “What, you mean that literally?” Jn 3.4 No; you misunderstand how new life works. But now Nicodemus went with a different skeptic’s tack: “Okay, explain how this is gonna happen.” In other words, explain it so I can critique it.

But Jesus, who’s far wiser than most people realize, didn’t take the bait.

John 3.9-13 KWL

9 In reply Nicodemus tells him, “How can these things happen?”

10 In reply Jesus tells him, “You’re Israel’s teacher.

You don’t already know these things?

11 Amen amen! I promise you:

We’ve known what we’re talking about.

We’ve seen what we’re testifying about.

You people don’t receive our testimony.

12 If you don’t trust me when I tell you earthly things,

how will you trust me when I tell you heavenly things?

13 Nobody’s risen up to heaven

except the one who comes down from heaven:

The Son of Man.” {Who’s in heaven.}

Text that was added to the New Testament by the Textus Receptus (and therefore found in the King James Version and NKJV) are in braces: John didn’t actually write it, and Jesus didn’t actually say it. Wouldn’t make any sense if he did. If Jesus had told Nicodemus the Son of Man is in heaven, it’d imply Jesus isn’t the Son of Man, because Jesus was right there, on earth, teaching the Pharisee senator about himself. He’d have to give Nicodemus a whole extra lesson about how the Son of Man was on both heaven and earth at the same time. Which he wasn’t; the whole point of verse 13 is to tell him the Son of Man came down from heaven.

And yet we have Christians who think the Textus and KJV have it right; that somehow Jesus was in heaven at the same time he told Nicodemus he’d come down from there. Somehow he was in two places at once, ’cause despite being in a human body, he’s God and omnipresent at the same time. But this is a heresy which turns Jesus into the remote-control avatar of the heavenly Son of God, instead of being fully God. Nope; not going there! If “Who’s in heaven” is to be seriously considered part of the text of John (and it’s probably best we don’t), it’d have to be an additional comment of the author of John—reminding us the Son of Man is in heaven now, but at the time he was talking to Nicodemus, he wasn’t yet.

Anyway. There’s a regular theme we see throughout John where Jesus tries to teach people something, but they can’t handle his teaching. This’d be one of those times.

Not because it’s impossible to understand Jesus! We give newbies the gospel of John, and they read it, and understand Jesus just fine. He’s deep, but he’s intelligible. John wrote most of his gospel in pretty basic Greek too, so most of the time it’s really easy to translate. Jesus uses tons of metaphors, but big deal; every culture has metaphors, and the ancient Hebrews were thoroughly familiar with metaphor; read Psalms and the Prophets sometime. Metaphor-a-rama.

The issue isn’t that Jesus goes over people’s heads. He doesn’t. The issue is people don’t want him in their heads. He’s too challenging! Too antithetical to the stuff people prefer to believe. Too contradictory to the stuff they grow up with, and take for granted. Too convicting.

And there’s another theme seen throughout John, which we also see right here in this passage: Jesus finds this rampant closed-mindedness really annoying.