Only Son (part 5)

Before one can attempt to delve into what Nicodemus is supposed to think when he hears Jesus say “This is the way God loved the world…” (John 3:16a), it is necessary to examine other parts of the conversation, as this is a building process.  Jesus does not just make this lone statement, but gets there over the course of a relationship and a conversation (of which we have only a glimpse).  In the Gospel record, Nicodemus has already spoken to Jesus about the signs that He is doing, with an indication of an assent on his own part that Jesus “has come from God” (3:2b).  Again, it cannot be said enough that this was a time of great expectation.  Israel is expecting their God to act on their behalf.  They are expecting some type of a messiah to make his presence felt. 

A widely-held (though certainly not exclusive) understanding about the messiah was that he would somehow be the physical embodiment of Israel’s God.  When Nicodemus speaks of Jesus as coming from God, Nicodemus speaks from within this expectation.  Nicodemus seems to be making a rather subtle inquiry as to whether or not Jesus was (or at least thought He was) the messiah.  His own words about the Creator God of Israel being with Jesus would seem to indicate that he believes that this is a strong possibility. 

How does Jesus respond to what Nicodemus says?  He responds by making reference to the Jewish, messianic hope that the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob was certainly going to fulfill His promise and establish His kingdom.  Keeping things simple, this would entail firstly the removal of Roman oppression, and secondly the subjugation of Rome to Israel, as Israel was to be elevated above all nations, with its messiah installed and recognized as king.  Jesus, presumably, is fully aware of the Jewish hope and would have shared in that hope.  Indeed, by His own words that are to come, one can see that He believes that He is fulfilling the Jewish hope of kingdom. 

In demonstration of this awareness of the kingdom hopes harbored by Himself and by His people, Jesus says to Nicodemus: “I tell you the solemn truth, unless a person is born from above, he cannot see the kingdom of God” (3:3).  After a response from Nicodemus which serves to reveal just how truly puzzling this statement was, with its inclusion of being “born from above,” Jesus continues and says, “I tell you the solemn truth, unless a person is born of water and spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God” (3:5). 

Clearly, Nicodemus is confused by Jesus’ speech here, and one would have to imagine that he would not be alone in his confusion.  Even Jesus’ own disciples, though they are with Him all the time and had the chance to hear Him speak (and likely expound on His thoughts) on a regular basis, as He likely made similar intriguing and potentially confusing statements on that same regular basis, were routinely perplexed by what He had to say and found themselves in need of private explanations. 

Granted, as a Pharisee and an esteemed member of the Jewish ruling council, Nicodemus was no doubt part of the elite and educated citizens of Israel.  It is unlikely that he was an intellectual and theological slouch.  However, the Gospels report that Jesus routinely stumped even the most elite with His statements and His questions.  As he hears the words of Jesus, one can surely envision the confused expression that rested upon Nicodemus’ face, prompting Jesus to say “Do not be amazed” (3:7a) at these things that I have said to you. 

Only Son (part 4)

As one attempts to gain a more thorough and properly rooted understanding of what Jesus means with the words that have come to be designated as John 3:16, it must be borne in mind that not only are the words offered in the context of what must be a larger discourse and long-running relationship between Jesus and Nicodemus (of which the author surely provides only a small portion), but that they are offered in a political, historical, cultural, social, and theological context as well.  So understanding the context will take quite a bit more than simply examining the verses that come before and after.  The context is far more complex than that.  Rather, the entire setting in which the words were spoken must be taken into consideration, which will allow the reader to gain an insight into the potential mindset of Nicodemus. 

This is to be done so that one can understand first what Nicodemus may have thought when Jesus spoke these words, and along with that, the things to which Jesus might be referring upon speaking these words.  Then, if this material has been traversed correctly, though relatively briefly (and certainly not exhaustively), the words will have a more correct and perhaps deeper meaning for the reader as well, as the way in which they fit into what it is that it is the great and over-arching plan of the Creator God for this world and for the beings that had been made in and as His image can now be properly grasped.

In the story as presented in this Gospel record, the very first thing that Nicodemus says to Jesus is “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God.  For no one could perform the miraculous signs that you do unless God is with him” (3:2b).  There is, of course, a great tradition of the giving and receiving of signs within Israel’s history.  Abraham asked for a sign from his God.  Moses asked for a sign that would demonstrate that the One speaking to him was truly the God of his forefathers.  Gideon would request and receive a sign from Israel's God.  There are numerous other instances of people asking for signs, so this was not simply limited to Jesus’ day and to the people of the time.  With his statement then, Nicodemus fits neatly into this long tradition.  First, he acknowledges that Jesus seems to be quite special, and then makes his reference to signs.  It is worth noting that, up to this point, the record of the Gospel of John does not have Jesus performing a large number of “signs.” 

What were the signs, according to what has been presented by the author, of which Nicodemus would be aware, and to which he would be making reference?  In the second chapter is the story of Jesus turning water into wine, which was not only miraculous on the surface, but was also a dramatic social and cultural statement by Jesus, centered upon meal practice, that did much to upend the honor and shame culture while also forever providing a cue to the followers of Jesus and what was to expected of them (the truly miraculous occurrence was not the transformation of liquid).  John reports that “Jesus did this as the first of His miraculous signs, in Cana of Galilee.  In this way He revealed His glory, and His disciples believed in Him” (2:11).  Following that, the Johannine narrative presents Jesus’ dramatic actions in the Temple.  It was this that drew the attention of the Jewish leaders to Jesus.  They said to Him, “What sign can you show us, since you are doing these things?” (2:18b) 

In response, Jesus speaks about the destruction of the Temple and its being rebuilt in three days.  He offered this as a sign.  The reader then goes on to find that “while Jesus was in Jerusalem at the feast of the Passover, many people believed in His name because they saw the miraculous signs he was doing” (2:23).  So it is possible to come to the conclusion that it is His activities in the Temple, together with the signs (symbols of Messiah-ship?) that He was performing during the feast, that prompts this particular conversation with Nicodemus.      

Only Son (part 3)

So what was it that Nicodemus was supposed to understand from these famous words of Jesus?  Almost undoubtedly, when Jesus speaks these words about the lifting up of the Son of Man, he is being self-referential.  However, two thousand years of familiarity with the story of Jesus should not be allowed to cause one to imagine that the self-referential nature of the statement was supposed to be immediately clear to Nicodemus.  To think such a thing would be an unreasonable assertion on the part of the reader. 

Additionally, to treat Nicodemus as anything less than a well-learned, well-respected individual, simply because of what seem to be odd responses on his part to the questions and statements that Jesus is reported to be putting to him, would be an unwarranted reading based on theological and doctrinal pre-suppositions (and unfortunately ill-informed prejudices), along with the tangible benefit of the theological treatise of the Gospel of John, back on to the Scriptures. 

One of the bottom lines that must here be recognized is that Nicodemus is no fool, though some want to take the path of portraying him as such.  When he is first introduced into the story, he is identified as a Pharisee.  Not only that, the reader is informed that he a “member of the Jewish ruling council” (John 3:1b).  Too often, a caricature of Nicodemus as something of a less-than-fully-aware fool in the presence of Jesus, produces a similarly unfortunate caricature of the Jewish ruling council, all of which were too dense to recognize what was slapping them in their face in the person and ministry of Jesus.  It is to be remembered, that even Jesus’ disciples are shown to have failed to grasp who and what Jesus was. 

So as a Pharisee, Nicodemus would not only have been well-versed in the history of Israel, but he would have also stood as a guardian of its covenant-related identity markers.  At the very least, he would have seen himself as a guardian.  Accordingly, he would have been very much concerned and very much looking forward to the time at, and the means by which, Israel’s God would intervene on behalf of His chosen and faithful people, delivering them from their long-running exile (foreign subjugation, which was connected to their God’s curses upon His people for their failure to obey His commands and to fulfill His purpose for them). 

As a Pharisee, and therefore as a member of the group of people that was informally charged with the maintenance of the faithfulness of the people when it came to the marks of Jewish identity (covenant markers: circumcision, food and purity laws, Sabbath-keeping), it is likely that he would have found the existing situation, with Israel suffering under the oppressive heel of Rome and its Caesar, to be an untenable and highly undesirable circumstance.  This was likely to have been the case regardless of how many benefits Rome might bring (or claim to provide), and no matter how much “freedom of religion” was offered to them by their Roman overlords.  Ultimately, anything short of total autonomy, with Israel ruling itself and determining its own place in the world, was unacceptable. 

As a member of the Jewish ruling council, Nicodemus would have been in an officially sanctioned position of religious and civil influence among the people, walking in the world of Judaism (religious) that was somewhat desperately attempting to keep the people faithful to their covenant God as they lived in a state of great expectation, while also attempting to keep those same expectant people from running afoul of Rome and its power (civil), while they awaited another exodus (with the foreign powers leaving the land of Israel this time) similar to that which Israel experienced under Moses.  

Only Son (part 2)

The brief answer to that important question is found in chapter twelve of Genesis.  There, the Creator God instructs Abraham (Abram) to “Go out from your country, your relatives, and your father’s household to the land that I will show you.  Then I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you, and I will make your name great, so that you will exemplify divine blessing.  I will bless those who bless you, but the one who treats you lightly I must curse, and all the families of the earth will bless one another by your name” (12:1-3). 

So yes, the covenant God is demonstrated to have chosen Abraham so that through Abraham the nations and families and the whole of the earth could be blessed.  This becomes, for all time, the explicit charge of the covenant people.  Naturally, a person that is recognized as a “teacher of Israel” would have been quite familiar with the answer to this question.  This, however, it should be recognized, is not a sufficient answer. 

The Creator God’s words to Abraham merely beg the question as to “why.”  Why did the sovereign God of the cosmos need to choose Abraham?  Why did this God have a need or desire to make Abraham into a great nation?  Why did the one who, as indicated in the story of Scripture, repeatedly showed Himself as the God of covenants want to bless him?  Why make Abraham’s name great?  Why was there what seems to be a pressing need to exemplify divine blessing through Abraham?  Why is there all this talk of blessing and cursing in association with Abraham?  Why indeed? 

The reason for all of these things is to be found in what comes before the introduction of Abraham.  In the narrative structure, what comes before, of course, is the presentation of the ordering of the creation as the Creator’s cosmic temple, the pronouncement at every stage that this ordering was “very good,” and the placement of man, created as the divine-image, into that creation-as-cosmic-temple so as to steward it, to be a reflection of the glory of its Creator into it, and to stand as a constant reminder to the whole of the creation of its Ruler, that being the Creator God of Israel (Genesis 1 & 2). 

This record of the ordering of creation is quickly followed by the report of the divine image-bearers’ first act of idolatry, rebellion, and violation of their God’s commandment.  This is swiftly followed by the exile of the now marred image-bearers from the role to which they had been assigned by the Creator.  What accompanied this, as pointedly and painfully indicated by Scripture, is the exile of the creation from the condition and state in which it had been created (very good, perfection), as it came to share in the cursing brought about by the one appointed to its rule and stewardship (Genesis 3). 

Subsequent to that the first murders are to be found (Genesis 4), along the fathering of a son in the likeness of the fallen image-bearer rather than in the image of the Creator God (Genesis 5), the growing wickedness of the collectively fallen image-bearers (Genesis 6), a worldwide flood of judgment (Genesis 7), the curse of Canaan (Genesis 9), and the culmination of man’s self-idolatry, rebellion, and defiance of the Creator, which was the construction of the Tower of Babel (Genesis 11). 

It is at this point that the Creator God is said to have reached down into His creation for the purpose of choosing and appointing Abraham, as something of a project manager charged with the task of the restoration of the fallen creation.  Undoubtedly, accurately and purposefully communicating this definitive story would be part and parcel of being a “teacher of Israel,” and it would have to in such a context that Jesus delivers the words of what have come to be the most famous words in the whole of Scripture.   

Only Son (part 1)

For this is the way God loved the world: He gave His one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life. – John 3:16  (NET)

Jesus is said to have spoken these words to a man named Nicodemus, referring to this man as a “teacher of Israel” (3:10).  With such words, the reader of the Gospel of John is reminded that Israel had a story, and that its teachers communicated a vast, vitally important, and powerful story to the group of people that rightly thought of themselves as the chosen people of the one true Creator God.  That story of a special people charged with covenant responsibilities (together with the blessings and curses thereby implied) took root in the tale of the exodus.  This is partly evidenced by the fact that, within his communications to Nicodemus, Jesus makes it a point to specifically mention Moses, saying that “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up” (3:14). 

According to Israel’s historical narrative (by which they defined and understood themselves and their place in the world), the lifting up of the serpent took place while the nation made its way to its land of promise, following their Egyptian exodus.  They were operating on the understanding that this land had been promised to them in the promise that their God had made to Abraham.  In all of the talk of the importance and significance of the very land of Israel, one can be sure that the reported word of the Creator God to Abraham had a prominent place: “The Lord said to him, ‘I am the Lord Who brought you out from Ur of the Chaldeans to give you this land to possess’.” (Genesis 15:7)  Therefore, though the story of Israel was deeply rooted in exodus, the exodus story is defined by, and would have very little meaning apart from, the story of Abraham and of the promises that were understood to have been made to him by the covenant, creative, and providential God of Israel. 

Yes, the exodus gains a great deal of its meaning from the story of Abraham, as it was believed that Abraham received word from the Lord that the promise being made to him would ultimately be confirmed by another promise.   The book of Genesis reports that Abraham (then still Abram) had said to the Lord, “O sovereign Lord, by what can I know that I am to possess it?” (15:8)  In the record of this exchange, the Lord’s response was the aforementioned promise, as He is said to have replied to this query by saying “Know for certain that your descendants will be strangers in a foreign country.  They will be enslaved and oppressed for four hundred years.  But I will execute judgment on the nation that they will serve.  Afterward they will come out with many possessions” (15:13b-14). 

This promise is dramatically fulfilled in the events of the exodus (that are set forth in the book of the same name), as the Creator God’s powerful judgments are said to have veritably rained down on those that dared to oppress His people.  Exodus reports that following the tenth and final blow of judgment to fall upon Egypt (the death of the firstborn), Israel was quickly ushered out of Egypt.  Tying the narrative tightly to the Abraham promise concerning possessions, the author reports that before leaving Egypt, “they had requested from the Egyptians silver and gold items and clothing” (Exodus 12:35b).  In response, “The Lord gave the people favor in the sight of the Egyptians, and they gave them whatever they wants, and so they plundered Egypt” (12:36).  Again, the exodus story gathers meaning from the Abraham story.  

However, a “teacher of Israel” would not only teach a story of Israel that had the exodus as its foundation, which also looked to the story of Abraham as the foundation of the exodus, but he would also look further back, to the story that provided context for their God’s choosing of Abraham (and ultimately his descendant(s)) as His personal representative(s) in this world.  To be sure, Abraham had been called out of Ur and promised a land and given promises in association with that land, but why was it that this had occurred in the first place?  

Calling Down Fire (part 6 of 6)

Beyond the action of wiping the dust from their feet (a fairly common action in their day and culture, by which one dis-associates themselves from a way of life or course of action), Jesus instructs them to say these words, “Nevertheless know this: The kingdom of God has come” (10:11b).  Even in rejection, they were to reiterate the message of the Gospel (Jesus is Lord).  There is no forcing.  Naturally, the contrast to this is that Caesar did not ask for anybody to accept him, nor did he request allegiance to his kingdom.  Rather, acceptance and allegiance was demanded at the point of a sword and the threat of the cross, as death was the only power that he truly had at his disposal. 

While the reader goes on to find Jesus saying, in regards to the rejection of the kingdom and Gospel message: “I tell you, it will be more bearable on that day for Sodom than for that town” (10:12), that falls squarely into the prerogative and business of the Creator God.  If the Creator God wants to call down fire (echoing James and John) in judgment, then it is He that will do that.  This is not the role of the disciples.  At the same time, along with this mention of Sodom and Gomorrah in association with the rejection of the Gospel message and the action of wiping the dust from the feet, it is worth noting that, for all practical purposes, Lot wiped the dust of those cities from off of his feet when he fled with his family.  

To these words Jesus adds: “The one who listens to you listens to Me, and the one who rejects you rejects Me, and the one who rejects Me rejects the One Who sent Me” (10:16).  For what it’s worth, there are echoes of Sodom and Gomorrah in this statement as well.  Of course, Caesar could say much the same thing, and he could then justify his murderous actions to the people of his kingdom (empire) by saying that those that he slaughtered (or ordered to be slaughtered) had rejected Rome and the people of Rome (the one who had sent him).  In his eyes, this would be something akin to a cardinal sin.   

So no, the job of the disciple was not to pronounce judgment and call down fire and condemn, but rather, to preach the kingdom of God while caring for and bringing healing to the sick and those that perhaps have been cast off by the world.  The job of the disciple is to preach that Jesus of Nazareth was, is, and forever will be the crucified and resurrected Messiah of Israel and Lord of all, while consciously recognizing that it is the Creator God, through the mysterious activity of His Spirit, that goes to work to make that message effective and impactful and transformational in the hearts, minds, and lives of those who hear it and see it in action, doing so according to His purposes for them and for the world. 

When one desires to call down fire, urging “conversion” or “acceptance” through the coercive preaching of hell’s eternal fires of judgment, or act as if he or she is functioning as the God of Israel’s duly appointed representatives when propositionally calling down said fire through referencing the judgment that the covenant God Himself brought to Sodom, it would seem that such is an act of simply rejecting Jesus and asserting that His Gospel message lacks any true functional power. 

Is Jesus as weak as Caesar?  Is death the only tool at those that believe in Him and His disposal when it comes to extending His kingdom?  Are those that believe in Him, call Him Lord, and order their life accordingly, not charged to speak the words of life in Resurrection?  When these things are grasped, and believers are brought to the point at which they fully and truly believe that there really is a power in the very proclamation of the Gospel, that there really is a Spirit that brings, activates, and works within that power, and that there really is a God in heaven that has a purpose and a plan for His creation, it is then that they can hear Jesus speaking and saying, “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see!  For I tell you that many prophets and kings longed to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it” (10:23b-24).      

Calling Down Fire (part 5 of 6)

So, given the prevailing sense of the “Roman peace” (pax Romana) when Jesus’ disciples arrive in a village and in a house and say “May peace be on this house,” one can almost imagine them being met with some trepidation.  Again, this is not un-familiar.  It is not difficult to envision the people, as they receive this greeting, thinking “Great, more peace,” as they entertain what they know and perhaps have experienced to be Caesar’s notion of peace. 

Then, when those same disciples go out into the public square and begin speaking of the kingdom of the Creator God that has come upon them (heaven has invaded earth and the Creator God is ruling the world through the true Son of God, Jesus the Christ of Nazareth), that message of peace, coupled with kingdom, could very well continue to invoke thoughts of Rome’s crushing domination and their means of establishing peace and extending their kingdom.  This, of course, is where attentiveness to the sick comes in as being dramatically important to the kingdom message, as it was and would never cease to be a distinctive badge worn by the disciples of the Christ. 

Naturally, the distinction is drawn because the usual, traveling preacher would pay little if any attention to the sick, as there would be almost nothing to be gained from them financially.  Similarly, the Caesar or his representative also cared little to nothing for the sick, as those that were sick to the point of being an unproductive subject of the empire, could very well be looked upon as nothing more than a burden that members of the local populace were all to happy to shift to Rome. 

Still, even with the healing of the sick (conscientiously serving them and attending to their basic needs so that they might recover their health and so be healed, and this alongside recoveries that could be described as nothing short of miraculous) accompanying the message of the rule of the Christ on earth, this preaching of the kingdom of God that had come, as indicated and proved out by the Resurrection, could create a natural skepticism and induce a “here we go again” attitude amongst the populace, as they would be fully cognizant of the Caesar’s methods that would be meted out to those that rejected the message. 

In this light, what is it that Jesus tell His disciples?  He says, “whenever you enter a town and the people do not welcome you, go into its streets and say, ‘Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet we wipe off against you’.” (10:11a)  This was a different approach.  This was certainly not a calling down of fire.  Far from it.  When heard within the appropriate context, it hardly even sounds like the invoking of a curse.  Where Caesar would have whetted his sword with blood (which would then need to be wiped off) and left men, women, and children lying in the dusty streets for their rebellion in rejecting him, Jesus suggests a different though significant, symbolic action.