This is a post from the blog of Ray Ortland. It (or at least parts of it) or circulating in various places on the web and it is really good, so I thought I'd circulate it here too. He has some excellent thoughts on the interaction between Reformed believers and other Christians and his words can easily be applied to all of us who identify with a specific theology or denomination or movement. So here it is in its entirety:
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Truly reformed
I believe in the sovereignty of God, the Five Points of Calvinism, the Solas of the Reformation, I believe that grace precedes faith in regeneration. Theologically, I am Reformed. Sociologically, I am simply a Christian – or at least I want to be. The tricky thing about our hearts is that they can turn even a good thing into an engine of oppression. It happens when our theological distinctives make us aloof from other Christians. That’s when, functionally, we relocate ourselves outside the gospel and inside Galatianism. The Judaizers in Galatia did not see their distinctive – the rite of circumcision – as problematic. They could claim biblical authority for it in Genesis 17 and the Abrahamic covenant. But their distinctive functioned as an addition to the all-sufficiency of Jesus himself. Today the flash point is not circumcision. It can be Reformed theology. But no matter how well argued our position is biblically, if it functions in our hearts as an addition to Jesus, it ends up as a form of legalistic divisiveness.Paul answered the theological aspects of the Galatian error with solid theology. But the “whiff test” that something was wrong in those Galatian churches was more subtle than theology alone. The problem was also sociological. “They make much of you, but for no good purpose. They want to shut you out, that you may make much of them” (Galatians 4:17). In other words, “The legalists want to ‘disciple’ you. But really, they’re manipulating you. By emphasizing their distinctive, they want you to feel excluded so that you will conform to them.” It’s like chapter two of Tom Sawyer. Remember how Tom got the other boys to whitewash the fence for him? Mark Twain explained: “In order to make a man or boy covet a thing, it is only necessary to make the thing difficult to attain.” Paul saw it happening in Galatia. But the gospel makes full inclusion in the church easy to attain. It re-sets everyone’s status in terms of God’s grace alone. God’s grace in Christ crucified, and nothing more. He alone makes us kosher. He himself. The Judaizers would probably have answered at this point, “We love Jesus too. But how can you be a first-rate believer, really set apart to God, without circumcision, so plainly commanded right here in the Bible? This isn’t an add-on. It’s the full-meal deal. God says so.”Their misuse of the Bible showed up in social dysfunction. “It is those who want to make a good showing in the flesh who would force you to be circumcised. . . . They desire to have you circumcised that they may boast in your flesh” (Galatians 6:12-13). In other words, “When Christians, whatever the label or badge or shibboleth, start pressuring you to come into line with their distinctive, you know something’s wrong. They want to enhance their own significance by your conformity to them: ‘See? We’re better. We’re superior. People are moving our way. They are becoming like us. We’re the buzz.’” What is this, but deep emotional emptiness medicating itself by relational manipulation? This is not about Christ. This is about Self. Even Peter fell into this hypocrisy (Galatians 2:11-14). But no matter who is involved, this is not the ministry of the gospel. Even if a biblical argument can be made for a certain position, and we all want to be biblical, the proof of what’s really happening is not in the theological argumentation but in the sociological integration.Paul had thought it through. He made a decision that the bedrock of his emotional okayness would forever lie here: “Far be it from me to boast [establish my personal significance] except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. . . . For neither circumcision counts for anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation” (Galatians 6:14-15). In other words, “Here is all I need for my deepest sense of myself: Jesus Christ crucified. His cross has deconstructed me and remade me, and I am happy. Everything else is at best secondary, possibly irrelevant, even counterproductive. Let Jesus alone stand forth in my theology, in my emotional well-being and in my relationships with other Christians!” This settledness in Paul’s heart made him a life-giving man for other people. He was a free man, setting others free (Galatians 5:1). This is the acid test of a truly Reformed ministry – that other believers need not be Reformed in order to be respected and included in our hearts.Whatever divides us emotionally from other Bible-believing, Christ-honoring Christians is a “plus” we’re adding to the gospel. It is the Galatian impulse of self-exaltation. It can even become a club with which we bash other Christians, at least in our thoughts, to punish, to exclude and to force into line with us. What unifies the church is the gospel. What defines the gospel is the Bible. What interprets the Bible correctly is a hermeneutic centered on Jesus Christ crucified, the all-sufficient Savior of sinners, who gives himself away on terms of radical grace to all alike. What proves that that gospel hermeneutic has captured our hearts is that we are not looking down on other believers but lifting them up, not seeing ourselves as better but grateful for their contribution to the cause, not standing aloof but embracing them freely, not wishing they would become like us but serving them in love (Galatians 5:13).My Reformed friend, can you move among other Christian groups and really enjoy them? Do you admire them? Even if you disagree with them in some ways, do you learn from them? What is the emotional tilt of your heart – toward them or away from them? If your Reformed theology has morphed functionally into Galatian sociology, the remedy is not to abandon your Reformed theology. The remedy is to take your Reformed theology to a deeper level. Let it reduce you to Jesus only. Let it humble you. Let this gracious doctrine make you a fun person to be around. The proof that we are Reformed will be all the wonderful Christians we discover around us who are not Reformed. Amazing people. Heroic people. Blood-bought people. People with whom we are eternally one – in Christ alone.
Posted by Ray Ortlund at Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
The Logos: Exegesis of John 1:1-5
The Logos
Context
The fourth gospel, the gospel of John, is amongst other things, a singularly unique piece of literature. Words such as “poignant,” “moving,” and even “inspired” may begin to describe it but can not fully do it justice; Hendriksen goes so far as to call it “the most amazing book ever written” (Hendriksen 3). And so it is. It is the words of the Holy Spirit, given through the recollections of the beloved apostle. It is the story of belief and unbelief, light and darkness, life and death.
That the author of this work, or at least that the authority behind it is the apostle John is almost a given amongst unbiased scholars, conservative and otherwise. A careful examination of the text reveals much about its author. For example, one may first conclude that the author was Jewish based on his extensive knowledge of the Old Testament (2:17, 10:34, 12:40), his knowledge of Jewish beliefs regarding the Messiah (1:41, 4:25, 6:15), and his familiarity with Jewish feasts and rituals such as the Passover (2:13, 6:4), the Feast of Tabernacles (7:2, 37), and the Feast of Dedication (10:22). The author also reveals an awareness of Palestinian topography (1:28, 2:1), particularly when it comes to Jerusalem (5:2, 9:7) and the Temple (2:14, 8:2). Such a keen awareness suggests that the author most likely lived in the area.
The reader may also surmise that the author of this work was an eyewitness to the things of which he writes when he is introduced to very detailed descriptions of the events that take place (1:29, 3:24, 6:22, 11:6) and experiences with the author an intimate knowledge of the person of Christ (4:6, 19:33-35). The identity of the author may be further narrowed down by observing that the author was not only an eyewitness, but an eyewitness to events that included only Jesus and his 12 apostles, for example, the Last Supper (13:23), and various other private meetings between Jesus and the Twelve (6:66-71).
The author never identifies who amongst the twelve he is by name, but he does do so be occasion; he is the one who reclined on Jesus’ breast at the Last Supper (21:24, cf. 20). By the process of elimination the reader can easily discover who this is. First, he is distinguished from Peter at the aforementioned event, and he has already been distinguished in previous chapters from Andrew (1:40), Philip (1:43-44), and Nathaniel (1:45-51). One may next eliminate Judas the Traitor who, had he even been inclined to write anything died too soon to do so. Matthew may be eliminated next as he has already written his gospel, and James the Less, Simon, Judas the Greater, and Thomas are all mentioned by name in the gospel and are more or less distinguished from the narrator of the story. This leaves two people as possible authors, the Sons of Zebedee, who incidently are never mentioned by name in the fourth gospel. This fact further substantiates that one of these two men is author since naming oneself would have been rather uncouth for the time.
Now that the question of authorship has been narrowed to James and John, a simple answer may be given. James, who was martyred by Herod prior to AD 44, was not alive to write the gospel (Acts 12:2), John was (John 21:19-24). Corroborating this is the testimony in given by the author that he was one of the earliest disciples (1:35-40); Mark provides a list of who those first disciples were, namely Andrew and Peter, who have already been eliminated, and John, who is the author (Mark 1:16-20,29) (Hendriksen 9-10).
Moreover, “within the orthodox church there is a uniform tradition regarding the authorship of the Fourth Gospel. This tradition can be traced back from Eusebius at the beginning of the fourth century to Theophilus who flourished about 170-180" (Hendriksen 24); of special note is the testimony of Irenaeus, a disciple of Polycarp, who was a disciple of John himself. Lending its testimony to those of the church fathers is the Muratorian Canon, which says that John wrote his gospel at the urging of his disciples (Tasker 19).
While it is well accepted that John was the author or authority behind the fourth gospel, there is some dispute as to whether or not he was the actual writer, or to use a more accurate term, penman behind the text. The Latin Vulgate at Madrid claims that it was Papias, a contemporary of John, who wrote as John dictated (Tasker 19-20). The church historian Eusebius writes of Papias who, according to Eusebius, spoke of another John, called “The Elder,” who was himself a disciple of the apostle bearing his name; it is the conclusion of Eusebius (as well as some contemporary church historians) that the “Elder” was the secretary, recording the thoughts of the apostle (Barclay 23-24). Not all commentators agree that Eusebius ever made such a bold statement, much less whether “John the Elder” even existed apart from being another title given to the apostle. Considering the weight of the evidence for apostolic authorship and the claim by the author that he himself wrote it (21:24), and the considerable lack of evidence for a separate penman, “it is safe to say that the ‘Presbyter John’ is a product of the critical and exegetical weakness of Eusebius” (Hendriksen 8).
That this book was written prior to the second century is clear. Justin Martyr, writing between 145 and 150, is clearly dependant on the theology of John’s gospel, particularly that of the prologue (Tasker 22). Pushing the date even further back is Ignatius, who very nearly quotes the apostle in his writings before dying a martyr in the year 110. Lest anyone think this is a coincidence, the discovery in Egypt and subsequent publishing in 1935 of a small codex dated between 125 and 150, containing a portion of the gospel of John, is so significant that “allowing even a minimum time for the circulation of the Gospel from its place of origin, this would throw back the date of composition so near to the traditional date in the last decade of the first century that there is no longer any reason to question the validity of the tradition” (Tasker 24).
The traditional date assigned this work by evangelicals is AD 85-90 (Laney, 1996). This is certainly possible since John was the longest lived apostle, having survived, according to Irenaeus, until the reign of Trajan in AD 98 (Tasker 20). Clement of Alexandria remarks, “Last of all John perceiving that the external facts had been made plain in the Gospels, being urged by his friends and inspired by the Spirit, composed a spiritual Gospel” (Tasker 24-25).
Since the book could not have been written after the start of the second century, and the church fathers testify that John wrote last of all, the traditional date, with John writing at the end of his life at the urging of his friends, seems to be the most likely choice. Again, this is certainly not an agreed upon hypothesis by all evangelicals. Some would argue for an earlier date, prior to AD 70, based on evidence from John 5:2 and 18:1 (Laney, 1996).
John spent the last quarter century of his life living and ministering in Ephesus (Barclay 6) where, according to Irenaeus, he wrote his gospel (Laney, 1996). Thus it was Ephesian Christians who made up John’s first audience. This was a largely gentile church, which accounts for John feeling the need to explain Jewish customs (Hendriksen 35); indeed most converts by this time were Hellenistic (Barclay 7), and John consistently draws on imagery familiar to these people. The words of the gospel were certainly never meant to remaining Ephesus however. Together with the likes of Rome and Alexandria, Ephesus had become a major urban center for the Roman empire and was located at the intersection of major trade routes (Arnold 4). With this in mind the apostle was the first advocate of political correctness, using inclusive language that his gospel may be received by all; in short, John’s audience was first the Ephesians (by virtue of location), second believers (in need of encouragement in their faith), and finally the whole world.
John states for the reader what his purpose in writing is: “...these have been written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:31). It may be safely said that there were some other contributing factors to this larger purpose as well, each of which is somewhat tied up with when one believes the book was written. In the quote by Clement of Alexandria previously given, Clement relates that John had seen that the facts of Christ’s life had already been given, and he endeavored then to write a “spiritual” gospel. One must not take this to mean that he was intending to write an allegory, but rather that he was writing with a focus on the theology, the Christology of the gospel. Indeed, while John leaves out much information given by the other gospel writers, he includes much of what they do not, and these additions all center on one fact: that Jesus is the Christ (Hendriksen 35). Much of these additional materials are concerned with Jesus’ Judean ministry, prior to the death of John the Baptizer (Hendriksen 21).
Another contributing factor to John’s purpose of belief was the Gnostic problem, those who believed, in short, that matter was evil and spirit was good, and that the true God could have nothing what-so-ever to do with evil matter. This belief went so far as to say that the God who created the world, because of his dealings with matter, must himself be evil (Barclay 12). A particular thorn in John’s side was a Gnostic teacher named Cerinthus. Ireneus relates a story he heard from Polycarp, who says that John, upon going into a bathe in Ephesus and finding Cerinthus inside, rushed out exclaiming, “Let us flee, lest even the bathhouse fall down because Cerinthus, the enemy of truth, is within” (Hendriksen 33).
With this background in mind then, one is given a great gift. The words of the apostle John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, written by his own hand in the final days of his life, given with all earnestness in the hope that the reader may believe that Jesus is the Christ, and in believing that he may choose light over darkness and life over death.
“In a great piece of music the composer often begins by stating the themes which he is going to elaborate in the course of the work” (Barclay 42). This is what John is doing in the first five verses of his book. It is the pronouncement of the truth on which the rest of his work will stand and prepares the reader to hear and accept that truth.
That the author of this work, or at least that the authority behind it is the apostle John is almost a given amongst unbiased scholars, conservative and otherwise. A careful examination of the text reveals much about its author. For example, one may first conclude that the author was Jewish based on his extensive knowledge of the Old Testament (2:17, 10:34, 12:40), his knowledge of Jewish beliefs regarding the Messiah (1:41, 4:25, 6:15), and his familiarity with Jewish feasts and rituals such as the Passover (2:13, 6:4), the Feast of Tabernacles (7:2, 37), and the Feast of Dedication (10:22). The author also reveals an awareness of Palestinian topography (1:28, 2:1), particularly when it comes to Jerusalem (5:2, 9:7) and the Temple (2:14, 8:2). Such a keen awareness suggests that the author most likely lived in the area.
The reader may also surmise that the author of this work was an eyewitness to the things of which he writes when he is introduced to very detailed descriptions of the events that take place (1:29, 3:24, 6:22, 11:6) and experiences with the author an intimate knowledge of the person of Christ (4:6, 19:33-35). The identity of the author may be further narrowed down by observing that the author was not only an eyewitness, but an eyewitness to events that included only Jesus and his 12 apostles, for example, the Last Supper (13:23), and various other private meetings between Jesus and the Twelve (6:66-71).
The author never identifies who amongst the twelve he is by name, but he does do so be occasion; he is the one who reclined on Jesus’ breast at the Last Supper (21:24, cf. 20). By the process of elimination the reader can easily discover who this is. First, he is distinguished from Peter at the aforementioned event, and he has already been distinguished in previous chapters from Andrew (1:40), Philip (1:43-44), and Nathaniel (1:45-51). One may next eliminate Judas the Traitor who, had he even been inclined to write anything died too soon to do so. Matthew may be eliminated next as he has already written his gospel, and James the Less, Simon, Judas the Greater, and Thomas are all mentioned by name in the gospel and are more or less distinguished from the narrator of the story. This leaves two people as possible authors, the Sons of Zebedee, who incidently are never mentioned by name in the fourth gospel. This fact further substantiates that one of these two men is author since naming oneself would have been rather uncouth for the time.
Now that the question of authorship has been narrowed to James and John, a simple answer may be given. James, who was martyred by Herod prior to AD 44, was not alive to write the gospel (Acts 12:2), John was (John 21:19-24). Corroborating this is the testimony in given by the author that he was one of the earliest disciples (1:35-40); Mark provides a list of who those first disciples were, namely Andrew and Peter, who have already been eliminated, and John, who is the author (Mark 1:16-20,29) (Hendriksen 9-10).
Moreover, “within the orthodox church there is a uniform tradition regarding the authorship of the Fourth Gospel. This tradition can be traced back from Eusebius at the beginning of the fourth century to Theophilus who flourished about 170-180" (Hendriksen 24); of special note is the testimony of Irenaeus, a disciple of Polycarp, who was a disciple of John himself. Lending its testimony to those of the church fathers is the Muratorian Canon, which says that John wrote his gospel at the urging of his disciples (Tasker 19).
While it is well accepted that John was the author or authority behind the fourth gospel, there is some dispute as to whether or not he was the actual writer, or to use a more accurate term, penman behind the text. The Latin Vulgate at Madrid claims that it was Papias, a contemporary of John, who wrote as John dictated (Tasker 19-20). The church historian Eusebius writes of Papias who, according to Eusebius, spoke of another John, called “The Elder,” who was himself a disciple of the apostle bearing his name; it is the conclusion of Eusebius (as well as some contemporary church historians) that the “Elder” was the secretary, recording the thoughts of the apostle (Barclay 23-24). Not all commentators agree that Eusebius ever made such a bold statement, much less whether “John the Elder” even existed apart from being another title given to the apostle. Considering the weight of the evidence for apostolic authorship and the claim by the author that he himself wrote it (21:24), and the considerable lack of evidence for a separate penman, “it is safe to say that the ‘Presbyter John’ is a product of the critical and exegetical weakness of Eusebius” (Hendriksen 8).
That this book was written prior to the second century is clear. Justin Martyr, writing between 145 and 150, is clearly dependant on the theology of John’s gospel, particularly that of the prologue (Tasker 22). Pushing the date even further back is Ignatius, who very nearly quotes the apostle in his writings before dying a martyr in the year 110. Lest anyone think this is a coincidence, the discovery in Egypt and subsequent publishing in 1935 of a small codex dated between 125 and 150, containing a portion of the gospel of John, is so significant that “allowing even a minimum time for the circulation of the Gospel from its place of origin, this would throw back the date of composition so near to the traditional date in the last decade of the first century that there is no longer any reason to question the validity of the tradition” (Tasker 24).
The traditional date assigned this work by evangelicals is AD 85-90 (Laney, 1996). This is certainly possible since John was the longest lived apostle, having survived, according to Irenaeus, until the reign of Trajan in AD 98 (Tasker 20). Clement of Alexandria remarks, “Last of all John perceiving that the external facts had been made plain in the Gospels, being urged by his friends and inspired by the Spirit, composed a spiritual Gospel” (Tasker 24-25).
Since the book could not have been written after the start of the second century, and the church fathers testify that John wrote last of all, the traditional date, with John writing at the end of his life at the urging of his friends, seems to be the most likely choice. Again, this is certainly not an agreed upon hypothesis by all evangelicals. Some would argue for an earlier date, prior to AD 70, based on evidence from John 5:2 and 18:1 (Laney, 1996).
John spent the last quarter century of his life living and ministering in Ephesus (Barclay 6) where, according to Irenaeus, he wrote his gospel (Laney, 1996). Thus it was Ephesian Christians who made up John’s first audience. This was a largely gentile church, which accounts for John feeling the need to explain Jewish customs (Hendriksen 35); indeed most converts by this time were Hellenistic (Barclay 7), and John consistently draws on imagery familiar to these people. The words of the gospel were certainly never meant to remaining Ephesus however. Together with the likes of Rome and Alexandria, Ephesus had become a major urban center for the Roman empire and was located at the intersection of major trade routes (Arnold 4). With this in mind the apostle was the first advocate of political correctness, using inclusive language that his gospel may be received by all; in short, John’s audience was first the Ephesians (by virtue of location), second believers (in need of encouragement in their faith), and finally the whole world.
John states for the reader what his purpose in writing is: “...these have been written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:31). It may be safely said that there were some other contributing factors to this larger purpose as well, each of which is somewhat tied up with when one believes the book was written. In the quote by Clement of Alexandria previously given, Clement relates that John had seen that the facts of Christ’s life had already been given, and he endeavored then to write a “spiritual” gospel. One must not take this to mean that he was intending to write an allegory, but rather that he was writing with a focus on the theology, the Christology of the gospel. Indeed, while John leaves out much information given by the other gospel writers, he includes much of what they do not, and these additions all center on one fact: that Jesus is the Christ (Hendriksen 35). Much of these additional materials are concerned with Jesus’ Judean ministry, prior to the death of John the Baptizer (Hendriksen 21).
Another contributing factor to John’s purpose of belief was the Gnostic problem, those who believed, in short, that matter was evil and spirit was good, and that the true God could have nothing what-so-ever to do with evil matter. This belief went so far as to say that the God who created the world, because of his dealings with matter, must himself be evil (Barclay 12). A particular thorn in John’s side was a Gnostic teacher named Cerinthus. Ireneus relates a story he heard from Polycarp, who says that John, upon going into a bathe in Ephesus and finding Cerinthus inside, rushed out exclaiming, “Let us flee, lest even the bathhouse fall down because Cerinthus, the enemy of truth, is within” (Hendriksen 33).
With this background in mind then, one is given a great gift. The words of the apostle John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, written by his own hand in the final days of his life, given with all earnestness in the hope that the reader may believe that Jesus is the Christ, and in believing that he may choose light over darkness and life over death.
“In a great piece of music the composer often begins by stating the themes which he is going to elaborate in the course of the work” (Barclay 42). This is what John is doing in the first five verses of his book. It is the pronouncement of the truth on which the rest of his work will stand and prepares the reader to hear and accept that truth.
Outline
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and apart from him nothing came into being that has come into being. In him was life, and the life was the Light of men. The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it” (John 1:1-5).
I. In the Beginning (1a)
A. The Word
1. Was there in the beginning (1a)
2. Was with God (1b)
3. Was God (1c)
B. He was in the beginning with God (2)
C. Things that came into being (3)
1. Came into being through him (3a)
2. Nothing came into being apart from him (3b)
D. In him was life (4)
1. This life is the Light for all (4b)
a. Light shines in the darkness (5a)
b. The darkness can not comprehend it (5b)
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and apart from him nothing came into being that has come into being. In him was life, and the life was the Light of men. The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it” (John 1:1-5).
I. In the Beginning (1a)
A. The Word
1. Was there in the beginning (1a)
2. Was with God (1b)
3. Was God (1c)
B. He was in the beginning with God (2)
C. Things that came into being (3)
1. Came into being through him (3a)
2. Nothing came into being apart from him (3b)
D. In him was life (4)
1. This life is the Light for all (4b)
a. Light shines in the darkness (5a)
b. The darkness can not comprehend it (5b)
Exegesis
In the beginning was the Word. One immediately thinks of Genesis 1:1 when reading this passage, and the reader is able to examine it in a new light with a new layer of truth laid upon it. This Word, the logos, later revealed to be incarnate in the person of Jesus, has existed from all eternity, an eternal, uncreated being (Hendriksen 69). In trying to comprehend what or who this logos is, one must try to put himself in the mind of the Hellenist, for it was a concept they were familiar with. For the Greek, “the Logos, the mind of God, is responsible for the majestic order of the world....What is it that gives men power to think, to reason, to know?...The Logos, the mind of God, dwelling within a man makes him a thinking rational being” (Barclay 8). For the Greek there is two worlds, the unseen world, which is reality, and the seen world, which is its shadow. Jesus is a revelation from the world of reality, the mind of God in bodily form (Barclay 36).
And yet while connecting with his Greek readers, John’s use of logos is not so much rooted in Greek dualism as it is in Semitic thought; the logos expresses and reveals the mind of Yahweh (Hendriksen 70). In the Old Testament the Word is often spoken of in personal terms (Psalm 33:6, Isaiah 55:10-11); now it is no longer just a personal term but a relational person. “It is a mark of John’s considerable theological genius that he is able to find a term (the “Word”) that is at the same time thoroughly biblical-that is, rooted in Old Testament teaching-and highly relevant for his present audience” (Arnold 5).
And the Word was with God. This phrase suggests that the Father and the logos enjoyed the closest possible fellowship (Barclay 38). It was a fellowship so intimate and so impacful of Jesus that in all his time here on earth he longed to return to it; Christ would later give his own commentary on this in John 17 during his High Priestly Prayer (Hendriksen 71). It is a statement that is likewise impactful on the reader, for it is in this statement coupled with several others that one see the intimate relationship within the Godhead and finds the basis for true human relationship.
And the Word was God. This little phrase has been taken apart by linguists (and supposed linguists) for centuries due to the lack of the definite article before the word theos. This lack of the definite article is not alarming or even unusual. “...in Greek syntax it is common for a definite nominative predicate noun preceding the verb “einai” (to be) not to have the article (Arnold 6). John has previously made a distinction between the persons of the logos and the Father, to have used the definite article would have made these two persons identical and obliterated John’s previous statement (Barclay 38). However, it must by no means be inferred that Jesus is a lesser deity that the Father. “In order to place all the emphasis on Christ’s full deity the predicate in the original precedes the subject” (Hendriksen 71). Had John simply wanted to affirm that Jesus was divine (but not equal to God) a more proper word choice would have been “theios” (Arnold 6).
He was in the beginning with God. The logos was, as it were, face to face with God. Fully divine and existing from all eternity as a distinct person, the logos was in perfect fellowship with the Father. “Thus the full deity of Christ, his eternity, and his distinct personal existence are confessed once more, in order that heretics may be refuted and the Church may be established in the faith and love of God” (Hendriksen 71).
All things came into being through him, and apart from him nothing came into being that has come into being. All things, one by one, came into being by this divine Word; that Christ took part in creation is emphasized both positively, with a view to the past, and negatively, with a view to the present (Hendriksen 71). In this verse John compliments what he has already said, that Christ was not created but is in fact eternal, and then adds to that with another truth: all things were created by him. The KJV and NIV, amongst others, translates “egeneto” (came into being) as “was made.” This is a poor translation and misses much of the beauty of what John was saying, thus “came into being” or “came into existence” is much preferred (Tasker 45).
This allusion to the creative agency of the Word would have been familiar to readers from both Jewish and Greek backgrounds. In the Old Testament creation is often attributed to God’s wisdom, or Word, and the Aramaic Targum refers to the “word” of the Lord as an agent of creation (Arnold 6). In Stoic thought Logos was Reason, the rational principle governing the universe. This was not a new idea; Zeno, who lived between 336-263 B.C. said, “the General Law, which is Right Reason, pervading everything, is the same as Zeus, the Supreme Head of the government of the universe” (Arnold 6). The Hellenistic Jewish philosopher Philo linked these tow worlds together in speaking about wisdom and the Word, identifying the Word as the instrument of creation (Arnold 6).
This verse also serves a contributing factor to John’s purpose by combating the ever spreading Gnosticism of the day. Christ was not a mere emanation of God, he was of the very same essence, and indeed had much to do with matter (Barclay 41). John is certainly not alone in testifying of this truth; Paul and the writer of Hebrews lend their voice as well (Col 1:16, 1 Cor 8:6, Heb 1:2).
In him was life. The great composer of this gospel is about to introduce two of his themes that he will speak on during the rest of the book: life and light. After thoroughly explaining to the reader what this life is the apostle closes his work the same way he began it, by speaking of life in John 20:31 (Barclay 42). This life that the logos provides is not simply through him, but is in fact in him. This is not a new way that God has chosen to provide life for his children, rather from all eternity and throughout the whole of the Old Covenant and to the present day life has been found in Christ, the logos (Hendriksen 71).
It has already been understood that the logos is the cause and the preserver of all life, and so in this instance the author goes deeper, beyond the physical to the spiritual (Hendriksen 71). It is the life that is the opposite of destruction (John 3:16), it is the life that Christ came to give abundantly (10:10); it is the mark of those who live with authenticity. “The man who lives a Christless life exists, but he does not know what life is” (Barclay 42).
And the life was the Light of men. Here the life is explained as Light, Light which is not comprehended by the darkness (1:5), is testified to by John, who was not the Light (1:6-9), and was rejected by the world but accepted by God’s children (1:10-13). The reader sees again the spiritual nature of this life that is to be found in the logos (Hendriksen 72). What does this Light provide for the child of God? It is the Light which brings order to chaos (Gen 1:3), reveals truth (John 3:19-20) and guides the believer (12:36). While the Jews saw Light has something given by the Mosaic Law (Psalm 19:8, Prov. 6:23) the Greeks viewed it as an eternal, universal, and personal force (Arnold 7). “One of the features of the gospel stories which no one can miss is the number of people who came running to Jesus asking: ‘What am I to do?’” For both the Jew and the Greek, “When Jesus comes into life the time of guessing and of groping is ended, the time of doubt and uncertainty and vacillation is gone. The path that was dark becomes light; the decision that was wrapped in a night of uncertainty is illumined” (Barclay 46), for Jesus is, as he claimed, the light of the world (John 8:12, 9:5).
The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. The apostles language in this verse hints of Greek dualism, but much apart from this philosophy is the relationship John sees between these two powers; they are not equal forces by any means. On the contrary, Light is the clear victor (Arnold 7). The Jewish mind would immediately recall the words of the prophet Isaiah, describing a people walking in darkness who have seen a great light (Isa 9:2).
The darkness, like the Light, is personal in nature. It is actively hostile to the Light (John 1:5) and is the natural nature of those who hat good (3:19-20) as they seek to hide their deeds. It is ignorance, but not just ignorance, it is willful ignorance of the Light (8:12, 12:35). John often uses the term symbolically when Jesus is absent from a scene or when evil is being done, such as when he recalls the actions of Judas at the Last Supper (Barclay 48).
Into this darkness the Light shines; this is provided for the reader in the present tense so that he may know that not only was the light shining, but it is shining, even to this day (Hendriksen 73); and the darkness can not comprehend it. The word translated comprehend, “katalambanein,” may be understood in three ways. First, it may be taken to mean “understand.” Certainly this is true of the darkness, since the message of Christ is a message of foolishness to those who are perishing. Second, it may be understood to mean “overcome,” and this is also most certainly true of the darkness, for the road to Heaven has been clear and open to man. Finally, it may be taken to mean “extinguish,” which, while the other meanings all add to the nuance of the verse, is the most accurate translation here (Barclay 49).
John is telling the reader in this verse that “the Light has been shining and is still shining, and never has the darkness been able to obliterate it...The aorist tense of the verb implies that there has never been a single instance of such a defeat” (Tasker 45-46).
The historian Jerome records a moving story of the apostle John that took place in the city where this gospel was written, presumably around the same time period: “‘When he tarried at Ephesus to extreme old age, and could only with difficulty be carried to the church in the arms of his disciples, and was unable to giver utterance to many words, he used to say no more at their several meetings than this, ‘Little children, love one another.’ At length the disciples and fathers who were there, wearied with hearing always the same words, said, ‘Master, why dost though always say this?’ ‘It is the Lord’s command,’ was his worthy reply, ‘and if this alone be done, it is enough’” (Tasker 18).
This Son of Thunder, who once vied for a seat of honor next to Jesus in the kingdom, had been transformed by his encounter with the living Word, the Light, into a preacher of love. John is not a commentator, writing about what others have said, nor is he a historian relaying facts to his pupils; he is rather a changed man testifying of how that change took place, of how his belief progressed and developed into abundant life, and he bids us to join him in the life he has been given.
In the beginning was the Word. One immediately thinks of Genesis 1:1 when reading this passage, and the reader is able to examine it in a new light with a new layer of truth laid upon it. This Word, the logos, later revealed to be incarnate in the person of Jesus, has existed from all eternity, an eternal, uncreated being (Hendriksen 69). In trying to comprehend what or who this logos is, one must try to put himself in the mind of the Hellenist, for it was a concept they were familiar with. For the Greek, “the Logos, the mind of God, is responsible for the majestic order of the world....What is it that gives men power to think, to reason, to know?...The Logos, the mind of God, dwelling within a man makes him a thinking rational being” (Barclay 8). For the Greek there is two worlds, the unseen world, which is reality, and the seen world, which is its shadow. Jesus is a revelation from the world of reality, the mind of God in bodily form (Barclay 36).
And yet while connecting with his Greek readers, John’s use of logos is not so much rooted in Greek dualism as it is in Semitic thought; the logos expresses and reveals the mind of Yahweh (Hendriksen 70). In the Old Testament the Word is often spoken of in personal terms (Psalm 33:6, Isaiah 55:10-11); now it is no longer just a personal term but a relational person. “It is a mark of John’s considerable theological genius that he is able to find a term (the “Word”) that is at the same time thoroughly biblical-that is, rooted in Old Testament teaching-and highly relevant for his present audience” (Arnold 5).
And the Word was with God. This phrase suggests that the Father and the logos enjoyed the closest possible fellowship (Barclay 38). It was a fellowship so intimate and so impacful of Jesus that in all his time here on earth he longed to return to it; Christ would later give his own commentary on this in John 17 during his High Priestly Prayer (Hendriksen 71). It is a statement that is likewise impactful on the reader, for it is in this statement coupled with several others that one see the intimate relationship within the Godhead and finds the basis for true human relationship.
And the Word was God. This little phrase has been taken apart by linguists (and supposed linguists) for centuries due to the lack of the definite article before the word theos. This lack of the definite article is not alarming or even unusual. “...in Greek syntax it is common for a definite nominative predicate noun preceding the verb “einai” (to be) not to have the article (Arnold 6). John has previously made a distinction between the persons of the logos and the Father, to have used the definite article would have made these two persons identical and obliterated John’s previous statement (Barclay 38). However, it must by no means be inferred that Jesus is a lesser deity that the Father. “In order to place all the emphasis on Christ’s full deity the predicate in the original precedes the subject” (Hendriksen 71). Had John simply wanted to affirm that Jesus was divine (but not equal to God) a more proper word choice would have been “theios” (Arnold 6).
He was in the beginning with God. The logos was, as it were, face to face with God. Fully divine and existing from all eternity as a distinct person, the logos was in perfect fellowship with the Father. “Thus the full deity of Christ, his eternity, and his distinct personal existence are confessed once more, in order that heretics may be refuted and the Church may be established in the faith and love of God” (Hendriksen 71).
All things came into being through him, and apart from him nothing came into being that has come into being. All things, one by one, came into being by this divine Word; that Christ took part in creation is emphasized both positively, with a view to the past, and negatively, with a view to the present (Hendriksen 71). In this verse John compliments what he has already said, that Christ was not created but is in fact eternal, and then adds to that with another truth: all things were created by him. The KJV and NIV, amongst others, translates “egeneto” (came into being) as “was made.” This is a poor translation and misses much of the beauty of what John was saying, thus “came into being” or “came into existence” is much preferred (Tasker 45).
This allusion to the creative agency of the Word would have been familiar to readers from both Jewish and Greek backgrounds. In the Old Testament creation is often attributed to God’s wisdom, or Word, and the Aramaic Targum refers to the “word” of the Lord as an agent of creation (Arnold 6). In Stoic thought Logos was Reason, the rational principle governing the universe. This was not a new idea; Zeno, who lived between 336-263 B.C. said, “the General Law, which is Right Reason, pervading everything, is the same as Zeus, the Supreme Head of the government of the universe” (Arnold 6). The Hellenistic Jewish philosopher Philo linked these tow worlds together in speaking about wisdom and the Word, identifying the Word as the instrument of creation (Arnold 6).
This verse also serves a contributing factor to John’s purpose by combating the ever spreading Gnosticism of the day. Christ was not a mere emanation of God, he was of the very same essence, and indeed had much to do with matter (Barclay 41). John is certainly not alone in testifying of this truth; Paul and the writer of Hebrews lend their voice as well (Col 1:16, 1 Cor 8:6, Heb 1:2).
In him was life. The great composer of this gospel is about to introduce two of his themes that he will speak on during the rest of the book: life and light. After thoroughly explaining to the reader what this life is the apostle closes his work the same way he began it, by speaking of life in John 20:31 (Barclay 42). This life that the logos provides is not simply through him, but is in fact in him. This is not a new way that God has chosen to provide life for his children, rather from all eternity and throughout the whole of the Old Covenant and to the present day life has been found in Christ, the logos (Hendriksen 71).
It has already been understood that the logos is the cause and the preserver of all life, and so in this instance the author goes deeper, beyond the physical to the spiritual (Hendriksen 71). It is the life that is the opposite of destruction (John 3:16), it is the life that Christ came to give abundantly (10:10); it is the mark of those who live with authenticity. “The man who lives a Christless life exists, but he does not know what life is” (Barclay 42).
And the life was the Light of men. Here the life is explained as Light, Light which is not comprehended by the darkness (1:5), is testified to by John, who was not the Light (1:6-9), and was rejected by the world but accepted by God’s children (1:10-13). The reader sees again the spiritual nature of this life that is to be found in the logos (Hendriksen 72). What does this Light provide for the child of God? It is the Light which brings order to chaos (Gen 1:3), reveals truth (John 3:19-20) and guides the believer (12:36). While the Jews saw Light has something given by the Mosaic Law (Psalm 19:8, Prov. 6:23) the Greeks viewed it as an eternal, universal, and personal force (Arnold 7). “One of the features of the gospel stories which no one can miss is the number of people who came running to Jesus asking: ‘What am I to do?’” For both the Jew and the Greek, “When Jesus comes into life the time of guessing and of groping is ended, the time of doubt and uncertainty and vacillation is gone. The path that was dark becomes light; the decision that was wrapped in a night of uncertainty is illumined” (Barclay 46), for Jesus is, as he claimed, the light of the world (John 8:12, 9:5).
The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. The apostles language in this verse hints of Greek dualism, but much apart from this philosophy is the relationship John sees between these two powers; they are not equal forces by any means. On the contrary, Light is the clear victor (Arnold 7). The Jewish mind would immediately recall the words of the prophet Isaiah, describing a people walking in darkness who have seen a great light (Isa 9:2).
The darkness, like the Light, is personal in nature. It is actively hostile to the Light (John 1:5) and is the natural nature of those who hat good (3:19-20) as they seek to hide their deeds. It is ignorance, but not just ignorance, it is willful ignorance of the Light (8:12, 12:35). John often uses the term symbolically when Jesus is absent from a scene or when evil is being done, such as when he recalls the actions of Judas at the Last Supper (Barclay 48).
Into this darkness the Light shines; this is provided for the reader in the present tense so that he may know that not only was the light shining, but it is shining, even to this day (Hendriksen 73); and the darkness can not comprehend it. The word translated comprehend, “katalambanein,” may be understood in three ways. First, it may be taken to mean “understand.” Certainly this is true of the darkness, since the message of Christ is a message of foolishness to those who are perishing. Second, it may be understood to mean “overcome,” and this is also most certainly true of the darkness, for the road to Heaven has been clear and open to man. Finally, it may be taken to mean “extinguish,” which, while the other meanings all add to the nuance of the verse, is the most accurate translation here (Barclay 49).
John is telling the reader in this verse that “the Light has been shining and is still shining, and never has the darkness been able to obliterate it...The aorist tense of the verb implies that there has never been a single instance of such a defeat” (Tasker 45-46).
The historian Jerome records a moving story of the apostle John that took place in the city where this gospel was written, presumably around the same time period: “‘When he tarried at Ephesus to extreme old age, and could only with difficulty be carried to the church in the arms of his disciples, and was unable to giver utterance to many words, he used to say no more at their several meetings than this, ‘Little children, love one another.’ At length the disciples and fathers who were there, wearied with hearing always the same words, said, ‘Master, why dost though always say this?’ ‘It is the Lord’s command,’ was his worthy reply, ‘and if this alone be done, it is enough’” (Tasker 18).
This Son of Thunder, who once vied for a seat of honor next to Jesus in the kingdom, had been transformed by his encounter with the living Word, the Light, into a preacher of love. John is not a commentator, writing about what others have said, nor is he a historian relaying facts to his pupils; he is rather a changed man testifying of how that change took place, of how his belief progressed and developed into abundant life, and he bids us to join him in the life he has been given.
Application
John 1:1-5 is most certainly a passage written more for theological reasons than for pragmatic considerations. However, the tow realms are not mutually exclusive. On the contrary, a good theology is the basis of right living, and the lack thereof is the reason that for many American believers, in the words of A.W. Tozer, God has become an inference rather than a reality. First, a look again at the passage:
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and apart from him nothing came into being that has come into being. In him was life, and the life was the Light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it” (John 1:1-5).
The first application that may be drawn from this passage regards the character and nature of God. John says that the Word, that is, Christ, has existed form eternity, he is and always has been God; while there is a difference in God’s manner of dealing with people in the New Covenant as opposed to the Old, there is no demarcation in God’s nature, attitude, or love. In other words, God was always like Jesus. Jesus has provided a new window into the unchanging and eternal love God has for the people he created. Likewise God’s wrath, his detest of sin and all that defiles, his standard of perfection for entrance into the kingdom, is all a part of the person of Christ.
Knowing that God has an incomprehensible love for the sinner and at the same time an detest for sin that one can not pacify is significant for the believer in that he can not fully grasp the depth of one without an understanding of the other. A proper understanding of love and wrath, exhibited by the same God, prevents the believer from living under “cheap grace” spoken of by Dietrich Bonhoeffer in The Cost of Discipleship: “Let the Christian rest content with his worldliness and with this renunciation of any higher standard than the world. He is living for the sake of the world rather than for the sake of grace. Let him be comforted and rest assured in his possession of this grace ‑ for grace alone does everything. Instead of following Christ, let the Christian enjoy the consolations of his grace!
That is what we mean by cheap grace, the grace which amounts to the justification of sin without the justification of the repentant sinner who departs from sin and from whom sins departs.” Costly grace, a grace that has value and transforms lives, comes from knowing that the God whom the sinner has offended is also the God who reaches out to him, who has always been reaching out to him with a love that endures forever. “Costly grace is the Incarnation of God” (Bonhoeffer 99).
The second application principle which may be drawn from this passage revolves around the meaning of life itself. Many an individual, philosophers, scholars, and theologians, have endeavored to discover and expound upon the meaning of life. All this has proven to be fodder for the satirists; for example, Monty Python discovered that the meaning of life was “seven.”
The Bible makes the meaning of life clear and simple, so much so that some people can not accept it in its simplicity. John says that in Jesus is life, and therein lies its meaning: that the believer may participate fully in the life of God. This is the mark of the authentic life, a life lived not so much according to what God says or even for God (for this does not go far enough), but a life lived in God.
For the believer this means staying in tune to what the Holy Spirit is saying to him and staying receptive to what the image of God inside of him, now rekindled by Christ, is longing for. It is a rejection of empty asceticism and useless guilt which is replaced by the joy and awe of costly grace in the path toward sanctified authenticity.
A final application principle (or at least the last one expounded upon here) is found in John’s statement that “The Light shines through the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it” (1:5, NLT). Let it never be said, no matter had bad it gets, that the church is in danger of dying out, for this is never the case. Jesus is the Light that continually shines, and though the darkness most certainly makes its presence known, it has never and can never prevail, it has never and can never extinguish the Light of Christ.
There was for a time (and perhaps still) a television show called “Early Edition” in which a man, for a reason unknown to both him and the audience, received a copy of the newspaper a full day early. In this newspaper, which essentially was a prophecy of things to come the following day, the man was able to read about horrible event s that would take place. Because he knew what was going to happen he was able to act with confidence to prevent the reported tragedies from becoming a reality. Believers are privy to an “early edition” of sorts in that they know ahead of time who the winner is. Moreover, they know that no matter how acutely the darkness is felt, it has never nor will it ever gain any real or sustained victory against the Light. Believer then may act in confidence in their daily lives, assured that their faith is not in vain, that the victor Christ is willing to share the spoils of victory with them.
The life the Christian is called to live is a life of authenticity, a live lived in the God who’s love endures forever. It is the pursuit of what it means to be fully human, to fully know God not by inference but by experience, a pursuit undertaken with confidence because victory is assured.
Bibliography
Arnold, Clinton (Ed.). Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary: John, Acts. Zondervan, New York: 2002
Barclay, William. The Daily Bible Study Series: The Gospel of John, Volume 1, Revised Edition. Westminster Press, Philadelphia: 1975
Hendriksen, William. New Testament Commentary: The Gospel of John. Baker Book House, Grand Rapids: 1953
Laney, Carl. BLS502 Class Notes. Western Seminary, Portland, OR: 1996
Tasker, R.V.G. Tyndale New Testament Commentaries: The Gospel According to St. John. Eerdman’s Publishing Company, Grand Rapids: 1960 (Reprint: 1981)
John 1:1-5 is most certainly a passage written more for theological reasons than for pragmatic considerations. However, the tow realms are not mutually exclusive. On the contrary, a good theology is the basis of right living, and the lack thereof is the reason that for many American believers, in the words of A.W. Tozer, God has become an inference rather than a reality. First, a look again at the passage:
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and apart from him nothing came into being that has come into being. In him was life, and the life was the Light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it” (John 1:1-5).
The first application that may be drawn from this passage regards the character and nature of God. John says that the Word, that is, Christ, has existed form eternity, he is and always has been God; while there is a difference in God’s manner of dealing with people in the New Covenant as opposed to the Old, there is no demarcation in God’s nature, attitude, or love. In other words, God was always like Jesus. Jesus has provided a new window into the unchanging and eternal love God has for the people he created. Likewise God’s wrath, his detest of sin and all that defiles, his standard of perfection for entrance into the kingdom, is all a part of the person of Christ.
Knowing that God has an incomprehensible love for the sinner and at the same time an detest for sin that one can not pacify is significant for the believer in that he can not fully grasp the depth of one without an understanding of the other. A proper understanding of love and wrath, exhibited by the same God, prevents the believer from living under “cheap grace” spoken of by Dietrich Bonhoeffer in The Cost of Discipleship: “Let the Christian rest content with his worldliness and with this renunciation of any higher standard than the world. He is living for the sake of the world rather than for the sake of grace. Let him be comforted and rest assured in his possession of this grace ‑ for grace alone does everything. Instead of following Christ, let the Christian enjoy the consolations of his grace!
That is what we mean by cheap grace, the grace which amounts to the justification of sin without the justification of the repentant sinner who departs from sin and from whom sins departs.” Costly grace, a grace that has value and transforms lives, comes from knowing that the God whom the sinner has offended is also the God who reaches out to him, who has always been reaching out to him with a love that endures forever. “Costly grace is the Incarnation of God” (Bonhoeffer 99).
The second application principle which may be drawn from this passage revolves around the meaning of life itself. Many an individual, philosophers, scholars, and theologians, have endeavored to discover and expound upon the meaning of life. All this has proven to be fodder for the satirists; for example, Monty Python discovered that the meaning of life was “seven.”
The Bible makes the meaning of life clear and simple, so much so that some people can not accept it in its simplicity. John says that in Jesus is life, and therein lies its meaning: that the believer may participate fully in the life of God. This is the mark of the authentic life, a life lived not so much according to what God says or even for God (for this does not go far enough), but a life lived in God.
For the believer this means staying in tune to what the Holy Spirit is saying to him and staying receptive to what the image of God inside of him, now rekindled by Christ, is longing for. It is a rejection of empty asceticism and useless guilt which is replaced by the joy and awe of costly grace in the path toward sanctified authenticity.
A final application principle (or at least the last one expounded upon here) is found in John’s statement that “The Light shines through the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it” (1:5, NLT). Let it never be said, no matter had bad it gets, that the church is in danger of dying out, for this is never the case. Jesus is the Light that continually shines, and though the darkness most certainly makes its presence known, it has never and can never prevail, it has never and can never extinguish the Light of Christ.
There was for a time (and perhaps still) a television show called “Early Edition” in which a man, for a reason unknown to both him and the audience, received a copy of the newspaper a full day early. In this newspaper, which essentially was a prophecy of things to come the following day, the man was able to read about horrible event s that would take place. Because he knew what was going to happen he was able to act with confidence to prevent the reported tragedies from becoming a reality. Believers are privy to an “early edition” of sorts in that they know ahead of time who the winner is. Moreover, they know that no matter how acutely the darkness is felt, it has never nor will it ever gain any real or sustained victory against the Light. Believer then may act in confidence in their daily lives, assured that their faith is not in vain, that the victor Christ is willing to share the spoils of victory with them.
The life the Christian is called to live is a life of authenticity, a live lived in the God who’s love endures forever. It is the pursuit of what it means to be fully human, to fully know God not by inference but by experience, a pursuit undertaken with confidence because victory is assured.
Bibliography
Arnold, Clinton (Ed.). Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary: John, Acts. Zondervan, New York: 2002
Barclay, William. The Daily Bible Study Series: The Gospel of John, Volume 1, Revised Edition. Westminster Press, Philadelphia: 1975
Hendriksen, William. New Testament Commentary: The Gospel of John. Baker Book House, Grand Rapids: 1953
Laney, Carl. BLS502 Class Notes. Western Seminary, Portland, OR: 1996
Tasker, R.V.G. Tyndale New Testament Commentaries: The Gospel According to St. John. Eerdman’s Publishing Company, Grand Rapids: 1960 (Reprint: 1981)
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