On the Sola Panel
I’m with Tony. When it comes to telling you what to do in response to the issue of climate change, I’m sayin’ nuttin’. But I’m also with Carl Henry as quoted by Tony. So here’s some biblical truths that I am willing to say. Maybe they’ll help you to think more about climate change.
Creation matters to God. God reckons the world is good (Gen 1, 1 Tim 4:4-5).
Human consumption of things in the world is also good (Gen 1:29, 1 Tim 4:4-5).
The non-human part of creation matters to God, even when it’s got nothing to do with you (Job 39-40, Psalm 104).
People matter more to God than the rest of the creation (Gen 1:26-31). Strange, but true (Ps 8:3-8).
The big problem with our world is that human beings are sinners (Gen 3:17-19, Hos 4:1-3, Rom 8:20-21). God’s solution to this problem is the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Greed is close to the heart of sin, because it involves desiring the creation above the creator (Eph 5:3, Col 3:5). Mindless over-consumption is an instance of sin, and it is not good (Prov 25:16, 27).
The core business of Jesus’ death and resurrection is the salvation of sinners (Rom 3:21-26, 2 Cor 5:17-21).
The scope of Jesus’ death and resurrection is the cosmic reconciliation of the entire world (Rom 8:19-23, Col 1:20).
If you’re a climate change skeptic and a Christian, that’s no excuse to go on consuming more than you should. Put greed to death (Col 3:5). Be patient (Gal 5:22, Jas 5:7). Killing greed and practising patience will have good effects on our world, regardless of whether humans are causing climate change.
If you’re a climate change believer and a Christian, don’t allow your carbon-reduction ‘good deeds’ to be sullied with smug pride, self-righteous announcements, or condemnation of others who aren’t as green as you. Just do it, and praise God (Matt 6:1-4).
The gospel teaches us to love our neighbour (Luke 10:27, Rom 13:9-10, Gal 5:14, Jas 2:8).
“Love your neighbour” is not the great commission, nor is it the gospel.
In order to love your neighbour, you don’t need to be inspired with an extra economic or ecological mission or vision. You need to know God’s love in Christ, and prayerfully consider about how respond to this love given the relationships and situations you find yourself in.
If your response to people who say that we need to have a wider or global concern is to try to place limits on the command to “love your neighbour”, then you might be seeking to justify yourself (Luke 10:29).
When scientists collaborate, they will get things wrong, because they are sinners (Rom 1:21-23) and they are finite (Job 28).
When scientists collaborate, they will get lots of things right, because they are human beings made in God’s image. People who know stuff about ecology and economics will have some good advice about how to love your neighbour.
The entire world will be judged with fire by God (2 Pet 3:7-10).
The judgment of the world should lead us to positive ethical action, not to despair or complacency (2 Pet 3:11-14).
The entire world will be renewed by God (Rom 8:19-23, Rev 21-22).
The entire world will be not be renewed by you.
If you’re interested, I’ve said somethin’ about this elsewhere: Is God green? God, the world and us, Is God green? God, the world and Jesus and Is God green? God and the future of the world.
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From the Sola Panel
One of the aims of the Sola Panel is to go back to basics, to remind ourselves of the importance of the ‘solas’ (i.e. scripture alone, faith alone, Christ alone, grace alone, glory to God alone). This post will look at one way in which these solas all fit together.
I’m currently reading through Timothy Ward’s very helpful book Words of Life: Scripture as the Living and Active Word of God (Inter-Varsity Press, Nottingham, 2009). It’s a good and highly accessible exposition of the Reformed doctrine of Scripture, which avoids many of the petty caricatures that are sometimes thrown about, and deals well with a number of modern objections. I highly recommend it as a book to put near the top of your reading list this year.
Early on in the book, Ward seeks to ground our doctrine of Scripture in the even more fundamental doctrine of the ‘word of God’ (or the ‘speech of God’). Ward points out that God’s speech is, and always has been, exceedingly powerful. This is seen especially when it comes to God’s justification of the ungodly. In this very significant case, God’s speech doesn’t just inform us about God’s salvation; it actually brings salvation to us:
God establishes, by his own declaration, a fundamental change in our standing before him, before he brings about, by the sending of the Holy Spirit, a real change to our sinful state… he spoke, making us by that declaration to be justified in our relationship with him… Thus a fundamental aspect of God’s redemptive work occurs when he chooses to speak, and in so doing unilaterally brings us to share here and now in the right standing with him that Jesus Christ has. (pp. 27-28)
This is a pretty good exposition of some of the important connections between God’s word/speech and our salvation. But it’s important to remember that God’s ‘speech-act’ of justification is only one part of the story of salvation.1
We must always remember that when the Bible talks about God justifying us, it never talks about this justification as a mere declaration that occurs all by itself. It’s not the case that God simply says to us out of the blue, “I deem you to be justified”, and that act of speech alone brings about our salvation. Of course, God’s speech is mightily powerful. But when it comes to our salvation, God’s justifying speech-act is connected to other highly significant powerful actions of God.
The first aspect of God’s saving work that we must always remember when we think about justification is the atonement. God’s justification of sinners is based squarely on the death of Jesus Christ for our sins—that one supreme act of love and grace whereby Jesus paid for our sins and satisfied the wrath of God. Paul, who of all the biblical authors spells out the idea of justification most fully, never talks about justification in a vacuum. Paul brings the concepts of justification and atonement together. He tells us that we “are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus” (Rom 3:24). The purpose of Jesus’ atoning work (Rom 3:25) is to enable God to be ‘just’ and to be the “justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus” (Rom 3:26). Without the atonement, God could not remain true to his own just standards as creator and judge, and therefore could not justify us. You see the same thing in Galatians—Paul’s strong defence in Galatians is that God’s justification of sinners doesn’t stand alone, but it is based on the fact that Jesus “gave himself for our sins” (Gal 1:4). Justification and the atonement go together; justification without atonement would be nothing and would mean nothing.
The second thing that must not be forgotten when it comes to justification is that those who are justified are united to Christ through faith. This isn’t to say that our own faith is itself some wonderful meritorious action that secures a reward from God. What it means is that when God justifies us he’s not issuing some arbitrary declaration that makes no sense of the reality of our own personal sin. It’s not the case that God one day decides to say to us, “You are righteous”, when patently we are, in fact, miserable sinners. No, God’s declaration of us as ‘righteous’ is based on the fact that he, by his Holy Spirit acting through his word which brings about faith, has actually united us to his righteous Son. This means that our own sins are truly cancelled by Jesus’ death, and that we truly share in the righteousness that by rights only belongs to Christ. For example, Paul speaks about being “found in him [i.e. Christ], not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith” (Phil 3:9).
In other words, the Reformation ‘solas’ all go together. God, through the supreme authority of Scripture alone, addresses us, speaks the gospel to us, declares that we are justified, and so brings salvation to us sinners. But this can only be true because Christ alone has performed that once-for-all atoning sacrifice for sins. By faith alone, the sacrifice of Christ is applied to our own reality. All of this is an act of God’s grace alone—to the glory of God alone. You can only go so far talking about one or the other of the solas in isolation. They really are a package deal.
1 I’m not disagreeing with Timothy Ward here, just clarifying a possible misunderstanding. I’m pretty sure that he would agree with what I have to say here, since in the passage I’ve quoted, he cites Romans 5:8 (about Jesus’ death), and goes on to discuss the “effectual calling” whereby God’s word creates saving faith.
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From the Sola Panel
Here’s something really interesting in Mark’s Gospel that my lovely wife Bronwyn noticed when she was reading the Bible the other day. Close to the beginning of Mark, in chapter 1, Jesus meets a man with a skin disease:
And a leper came to him, imploring him, and kneeling said to him, “If you will, you can make me clean.” (Mark 1:40)
The word ‘leper’ actually refers to people with a wide range of skin diseases, not just to people with the modern disease of leprosy. This man’s condition would have been pretty miserable. You might be aware from reading the Old Testament that he would have suffered from far more than a bad complexion and low self-esteem. He would have been a social outcast, condemned to a solitary life outside the main centres of population. That’s because his skin disease was an example of ‘uncleanliness’—a bodily condition that symbolized sin and death, and which excluded ancient Israelites from worshipping God in the temple and from associating with others. God told Moses:
The leprous person who has the disease shall wear torn clothes and let the hair of his head hang loose, and he shall cover his upper lip and cry out, ‘Unclean, unclean.’ He shall remain unclean as long as he has the disease. He is unclean. He shall live alone. His dwelling shall be outside the camp. (Leviticus 13:45-46)
Jesus, however, is powerful enough to deal with this ‘uncleanliness’. He is not contaminated by touching the man with the disease; instead, he has a kind of ‘contagious cleanliness’ which heals the man:
Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand and touched him and said to him, “I will; be clean.” And immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean. (Mark 1:41-42).
Great stuff! But then, the story takes a slightly unexpected twist:
And Jesus sternly charged him and sent him away at once, and said to him, “See that you say nothing to anyone, but go, show yourself to the priest and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, for a proof to them.” (Mark 1:43-44)
We can understand why Jesus wanted the man to show himself to the priest; after all, it was the priest’s job to pronounce people ‘clean’ once their uncleanness had left them (e.g. Lev 13:47-59). In that way, he could be restored to God’s worshipping people. It’s a bit more difficult to understand why Jesus didn’t want the man to talk about it; but we haven’t got time to go into detail about that question here. Instead, I want to show you the interesting bit that Bronwyn noticed:
But he went out and began to talk freely about it, and to spread the news, so that Jesus could no longer openly enter a town, but was out in desolate places, and people were coming to him from every quarter. (Mark 1:45)
What’s happened to Jesus as a result of this healing? He’s traded places with the diseased man! He hasn’t actually caught the disease itself—but he’s suffering in the same way that the diseased man would have suffered before he was healed. Previously, it was the diseased man who had to live outside the populated areas and stay in the lonely places by himself. But now, Jesus himself is the excluded one: excluded as a result of his own saving action.
We wondered if Mark is giving us a little hint, early in the story of Jesus’ life, of the much greater and perfect substitution that Jesus accomplishes at the end of his earthly life. By his death on the cross, Jesus came “to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). Jesus deliberately suffers in our place; he dies the death we deserve; he is forsaken so that sinners like you and me can be accepted, and so worship and serve God freely. Is this story of the diseased man a little foretaste of that great truth?
What do you reckon?
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In chapter 1 of his megabook, The Deliverance of God: an Apocalyptic Rereading of Justification in Paul (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), Douglas Campbell outlines what he calls “the justification theory of salvation”, which he seems to regard as a summary of the conventional understanding of the gospel amongst the majority of Western Christians (7). If read in a certain light, then Campbell’s description of this “theory”, and his exposition of its difficulties (especially the “intrinsic difficulties” in chapter 2), can be of great help to those of us who want to speak the gospel clearly and accurately. How? Because it’s so wrong, and so detailed. Hence it provides us with a neat and nicely described catalogue of distortions to avoid. Let me explain.
As I began reading Campbell’s description of “justification theory”, I was startled by its wild claims. It certainly didn’t reflect what I had learned in theological college about justification and salvation. Campbell’s theory, for example, espouses a voluntarist view of humanity, natural revelation and the experience of despair as an essential component in salvation, an arbitrary view of “faith”, and a strict contractual / economic view of atonement. As far as I can tell, this “theory” doesn’t reflect any of the serious attempts to articulate the gospel made by any well-thought-through theologian or exegete in the history of the Christian church. I checked out the endnotes to find out who on earth Campbell was talking about, but discovered that he doesn’t give any examples of anyone who could be said to endorse this “theory”, apart from a couple of parenthetical references to Luther (notes 21 and 24); and that his short critique of Federal Calvinism (pp. 14-15) is based almost entirely on some articles by James Torrance rather than on any primary sources.
When Cambpell does critique a particular theologian at length (Anselm, in chapter 2), he gets him wrong at his most fundamental point. Campbell argues that Anselm’s view of the atonement is “essentially economic” because it posits that “human sins are a violation of God’s rights to certain good and services”, and then implies that Anselm didn’t consider that “[t]he only thing that God can be deprived of is the honor and respect due him and his decrees” (p 52). Now I’m not saying that Anselm got everything right, but you can’t accuse him of not taking God’s honour and respect seriously. This is his basic idea of atonement – the satisfaction of God’s honour (not paying back money to God). See 1.11-14 in Anselm, ‘Why God Became Man’. Pages 100-83 in A Scholastic Miscellany: Anselm to Ockham. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1956.
So after reading these chapters, I concluded that Campbell isn’t deriving his “justification theory of salvation” from any of the serious traditions of Christianity, and so (despite his protestations, pp 12-13) his theory is a “straw man” in the technical scholarly sense, failing in its intended purpose to describe “the most formidable account of the [biblical] data that we yet possess” (p. 13).
However … as I kept reading and rereading, I had to ask, where is Campbell’s theory coming from? I can only guess, but the only explanation I can find is that he has derived his “theory” from elements of some popular gospel preaching. His description does indeed resonate with the kind of Gospel-preaching that emphasises “our decision for Christ” above all else, or gospel preaching that sets God the “just” father in opposition Christ the “loving” son, or gospel preaching that tells us simply to “have faith” without adequately describing the object of and reason for such faith, or gospel preaching that promises individual salvation and nothing more. It’s quite possible for gospel preachers to fall into traps such as these, and more.
So, if you are a gospel preacher, and you have a few spare hours, I’d suggest that you read through Campbell’s “theory” and his critique of it (at least chapter 2). Campbell usefully lists a lot of traps for young (and old) players. And if your own gospel preaching sounds like Campbell’s “justification theory of salvation”, weep, repent, and go back and read the Bible (and Luther and Calvin, for that matter).
We have seen that the “seed” of Galatians 3:16 is referring to Genesis 17:8. In Galatians 3:16, Paul is explaining to the gentile Galatians that the “seed” of Genesis 17:8 is the “one” nation Israel, not the “multitude” of nations who will also have Abraham as their father (Genesis 17:5).
In Galatians 3:17, Paul goes on to explain that the covenant has already been ratified. When was this covenant to Abraham and his seed “ratified by God” and thus made inviolable (3:17)?
(This post is part of a series)
As we have seen in our survey of the Old Testament, a solemn oath or ceremonial act is needed to make a covenantal relationship of obligation legally binding. The covenant of land in Genesis 15 was ratified by the events recorded in the chapter—the passing of the flaming torch through the pieces, followed by solemn promises. But it is only after the Aqedah (binding) of Isaac that God finally makes a solemn oath that “in your seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed, because you have obeyed my voice” (Gen 22:16–18). Almost paradoxically, the primary act of loyal devotion that made Abraham and his seed a fitting covenant partner with God—a fitting agent for blessing to the whole world—was the willingness of Abraham to sacrifice the seed himself. It is only when the seed is placed on the wood and a sacrifice is made that God ratifies his covenant, emphatically vowing to make Abraham’s seed numerous and victorious (Gen 22:17) and thereby to bless the world through Abraham’s seed (22:18).[1] Hahn presents a strong case that this is the “ratification” Paul has in mind, and that the Aqedah is the type for his exposition of Jesus’ crucifixion and the subsequent blessing to the nations in Galatians 3:13–14.[2] In Genesis, the covenant of international blessing is ratified after Abraham’s supreme act of loyalty in being willing to sacrifice the “seed” of the promise by binding him “upon wood”:
Thus, the sense of [Galatians 3:]13–14 is that the death of Christ ἐπὶ ξύλου allows the blessing of Abraham after the Aqedah (Gen 22:18) to flow to the ἔθνη through Jesus Christ (ἐν Χριστῷ Ἰησοῦ).[3]
Hence it is “Christ” who is supremely the seed, the one in whom all nations are blessed (Gal 3:16).[4] This accords with the flow of biblical thought. Psalm 72 focusses the international scope of the promise to Abraham and his “seed” directly onto an ideal Davidic ruler (cf. 2 Sam 7). It is this Messiah-king “in whom all the nations will be blessed / bless themselves” (Psa 72:17, cf. Gen 12:3, 22:18).[5] Christ is the seed who fulfils the covenantal oath that God swore to Abraham by his obedience to death on the cross.
The larger import of this for Paul’s argument with his opponents is that the covenantal obligations laid upon Abraham (circumcision) and his national seed (the law) as a prerequisite for international blessing are not laid upon the nations as a prerequisite for their own blessing.[6] Abraham’s seed has fulfilled the covenantal obligations. The multitude of nations, therefore, are not called to enter this covenant, but to find blessing in the “seed”, to be “immersed” into Christ, to be “clothed” with Christ (Gal 3:27). This comes about by the Spirit and by faith in Christ (Gal 3:14). The blessings include justification (Gal 3:24), sonship (Gal 3:27) and unity with God and others in Christ (Gal 3:28). Hence it is faith in Christ, not covenant membership, that makes the Gentiles “seed of Abraham, heirs according to the promise” (Gal 3:29). Being the “seed of Abraham” does not mean that the Gentiles are subject to the covenantal obligations, for these obligations have been fulfilled by Christ’s sacrifice. Rather, being the “seed of Abraham” means that the Gentiles are now sons of God in the fullest sense, heirs of the inheritance that has now come in Christ (Gal 4:1–7). Even the Jews who were members of the covenant must also be in the “seed” by faith (Gal 2:16, 3:11). Hence Abraham’s international fatherhood is not by means of common covenantal membership, but by means of a common faith in the God who achieves his astounding promises (Gal 3:7, 9), and a common blessing of righteousness; the characteristics that Abraham had before any of the covenants was made (Gal 3:6, Gen 15:6).
[1] Williamson, Abraham, 246–48.
[2] Hahn, “Covenant, Oath, and the Aqedah”, 90–94.
[3] Hahn, “Covenant, Oath, and the Aqedah”, 93.
[4] Hahn, “Covenant, Oath, and the Aqedah”, 96–97.
[5] Williamson, Abraham, 167–70.
[6] If this were so, then Carol K. Stockhausen, “2 Corinthians 3 and the Principles of Pauline Exegesis”, in Paul and the Scriptures of Israel (ed. Craig A. Evans and James A. Sanders; Journal for the Study of the New Testament Supplement Series 83; Sheffield: JSOT, 1993), 143–64 (esp. 158–61) would be correct in concluding that Paul saw a real contradiction between the unilateral covenant of Genesis 15 and the bilateral covenant of Genesis 17.
Full bibliography
From the Sola Panel
This is the fifth instalment of a five-part series (Read parts 1, 2, 3 and 4)
We’ve been looking at Psalm 8 and Hebrews 2, and have discovered that Jesus provides the solution to the puzzle of Psalm 8.
Where do we see Jesus? We see him in the Gospels, those records and witnesses to Jesus’ life, death on the cross and resurrection from the dead. The Gospels form the first four books of our New Testaments. And as we look at this man Jesus Christ in those Gospels, we see something very significant: we actually see (if we look at this testimony closely) that God himself became human: Jesus, the Son of God.
This is the reason that we are important to God. It’s because God actually became one of us. God, the creator and designer—the one who is far above and beyond even the 70 sextillion stars—the one whose hands hold the universe—the one for whom and by whom this same universe exists—became human. He became one of us—one of the specks of dust—one of the small, pitiful creatures. He became a baby and grew. And he did it “because of the suffering of death” (Heb 2:9b).
Just as our very existence and value in this universe is a real problem, so too is the fact that suffering and death is also a problem. The Bible doesn’t give us final and neat reasons for suffering and death—especially when it comes to individual cases. But it does tell us that suffering and death are all finally bound up with our rejection of God himself. The fact that we have abandoned our responsibility and ceased to live as God desires means that we are subject to death.
Death is not the way the world should be. It’s wrong. You will know this if you have ever experienced the death of a loved one, relative or friend, as well as thought about your own impending death. But the Bible says that death is all bound up with this terrible reality—the reality that we, as individuals and as a race, have taken our importance for granted and have used it to pretend that we are God, choosing to define our own lives. Death is, in the end, God’s judgement against our rejection of him—our abandonment of who we are, our ignoring of him and our playing God ourselves. Death now; death forever.
But what has Jesus done about death? Again, take a look at the same verse: “so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone” (Heb 2:9c). God’s Son became one of us because of God’s grace—his lavish, undeserved love for us. The reason you matter to the God who made the countless stars and supernovas is not because you’re big or good or important to the running of the universe; it’s simply because he decided to love you. And he showed his love in an incredible way: Jesus, in becoming one of us, tasted death for us. Although he was God himself, the perfect human being, he also suffered. He died. He died, in fact, an agonizing death on a Roman cross. And he did it for us, in our place.
What does that mean for us? “For it was fitting that he, for whom and by whom all things exist, in bringing many sons to glory, should make the founder of their salvation perfect through suffering” (Heb 2:10). Jesus died to bring us back to God. Because Jesus has suffered the consequences of God’s judgement, we don’t need to face God’s final judgement against us. Because Jesus died, he has made us ‘sons’, which means heirs—children of God. Those who trust Jesus—those who belong to Jesus—will have ‘salvation’, which means escape from God’s judgement—escape, in the end, from death itself.
Jesus died to bring us to glory—to finally ‘crown us with glory and honour’, as the song goes (Ps 8:5). This means everlasting life in a new creation that God will make—a place where there is no suffering or death, where there is no judgement from him, where we live rightly as God’s children and where we will know him finally and perfectly.
Jesus, who has suffered and been made perfect, has risen from the dead and is now alive. He himself is crowned with glory and honour. One day those who trust in him and know him will see him as he is.
What is your response to this? Do you know Jesus? Do you trust Jesus? Do you believe that the riddle of our existence is actually found, not in yourself, but in him?
Comments on the Sola Panel
Our whole family (aged 35, 31, 7, 5 and 2) has loved listening to Ben Pakula’s heavy metal album for kids, A Very Special Tent. The Album is now available on iTunes. Just type “Ben Pakula” into the iTunes Store search box (if you don’t have iTunes, you need to download and install the program first).
If you know any kids in late primary school, let them have a listen: these songs are musically and lyrically awesome. If you just want to download a few tunes rather than the whole album, Knowing Jesus as my Boss, Say ‘No’ to Sin, and Powerful Love are my top picks from a consistently excellent album.
If you want more info on Ben Pakula and his music, I wrote a rave review at the Sola Panel last year.
Lionel Windsor (2003)
Synopsis
The essay begins with the proposal by Barnabas Lindars that ‘The central aim of the Johannine christology is to expound the intimate relationship of Jesus and God. For this purpose John takes over the idea of the Son of Man, [. . .]’. Lindars’ case has some merit, but has isolated an important theme rather than a ‘central aim’. Loader’s attempt is also flawed because it is does not take into account the narrative nature of the Gospel. I propose that the central aim of Johannine christology is twofold: to expound the intimate relationship between Jesus and God, and to expound the saving relationship between Jesus and those who believe in him. This is demonstrated firstly from the Gospel in general.
Then we turn to the ‘Son of Man’, which is used to expound this twofold aim within the narrative structure of the Gospel. By analysing each of the occurrences of ‘Son of Man’ in the Gospel, we demonstrate that the important elements of revelation, judgment and life-giving are progressively shown by John to find their ultimate fulfilment in the cross. Chapter 12 is a climax in this regard.
Introduction
What did John the Evangelist want his readers to understand, first and foremost, about Jesus Christ? How does he achieve it? These two questions have been the subject of much debate in modern scholarship, with as yet little consensus.1 Barnabas Lindars, in an attempt to come to grips with the Johannine ‘Son of Man’, wrote in 1973, ‘The central aim of the Johannine christology is to expound the intimate relationship between Jesus and God. For this purpose John takes over the idea of the Son of Man, [. . .]’.2 He endeavours to demonstrate how the title ‘Son of Man’ is the Gospel’s vehicle for expressing the increasingly apparent unity of will between Jesus and God, culminating in his ultimate obedient act—the crucifixion. This is valid, as far as it goes. However, much more can (and has) been said, both about the central aim of Johannine christology and about the purpose of the Johannine designation ‘Son of Man’. We will argue, in the light of other scholars’ research and of John’s Gospel itself, that Lindars’ thesis only partly resolves these two issues.
A ‘central aim’?
Moloney concedes that Lindars’ analysis has some merit.3 John’s use of ‘Son of Man’ is not accidental, for it is used to express Jesus’ relationship to God particularly in the contexts of judgment, life-giving, passion and exaltation. Moloney also applauds Lindars’ search for the origins of ‘Son of Man’ in Daniel 7:15-27 and Isaiah 52-53, rather than in Gnostic myths. However, the article has both methodological and substantial flaws. The primary methodological problem is Lindars’ ‘two-edition’ theory of composition. This theory relegates chapter 6 to a later edition which ‘interferes’ with the rest of the Gospel.4 Because he does not deal adequately with this and much other Johannine material, he fails to demonstrate how the intimate relationship between Jesus and God is the central aim, either of John’s Gospel or of the designation ‘Son of Man’. As a result, many important christological themes are sidelined. For Lindars, the crucifixion is simply the ultimate demonstration of Jesus’ obedient intimacy with God. Belief or unbelief in this fact of theological intimacy is not central, but has ‘inevitable consequences’,5 which Lindars does not adequately relate to the eschatological resurrection, judgment and life-giving activity of the Son of Man.
These shortcomings raise two more questions for us: How might we search for the central aim of Johannine Christology? and If we find it, how do we know that it is the central, rather than a central or even a subsidiary aim? Culpepper warns against methodologies which try to isolate and systematise christological motifs on the basis of historical developmental theories or particular titles, arguing for a more holistic approach.6 Loader proposes objective criteria for isolating a ‘central structure’ in Johannine christology.7 His criteria call upon the interpreter to investigate the relative frequency and positional significance of motifs and patterns of motifs in the Gospel, with a further proviso that any postulated central structure must be able to integrate all other motifs. Applying these criteria, he finds that the central idea is the Son (of God) who has come, sent by the Father, and given all authority, makes the Father known and returns to the Father.8 The ‘Son of Man’ designation adds nothing to the central structure, but is simply John’s device to justify his use of the historical, incarnate, crucified Jesus in his portrayal of this otherwise divine ‘Son’. This approach, however, is unsatisfactory, for it separates structure from purpose. While Lindars’ approach suffers from being too focussed, Loader’s approach suffers from being too static.
The twofold aim of Johannine christology
We must look for more than a central static ‘structure’ for Johannine christology. The way forward is rather to analyse the Gospel’s total dynamic narrative flow to find a central ‘aim’, without unduly focussing on any particular title. Along these lines, I propose that the central aim of Johannine christology is twofold: to expound the intimate relationship between Jesus and God and to expound the saving relationship between Jesus and those who believe in him (life for those who believe, judgment for those who do not). Although the first theme is logically and ontologically prior to the second, John is aiming to expound both themes equally. The crucifixion is the logical basis for both of these themes: it is both the ultimate act of expression of the intimate relationship between Jesus and God, and the means by which believers can enter into a saving relationship. Each theme in this twofold aim is inextricably bound to the other such that they may be distinguished, but cannot be separated: the intimate relationship is fulfilled in the salvation of believers, and the basis of salvation is in the intimate relationship. Furthermore, ‘Son of Man’ is a revelatory title which has a significant part to play in expounding both themes. In other words, John’s soteriology is inseparable from his christology, and ‘Son of Man’ expounds both of them.
Most scholars will emphasise each of these two themes, to a greater or lesser extent. The relationship between Jesus and God is seen from John 1:1-2 onwards, with the pre-existence of the Logos forming the fundamental presupposition of the Gospel’s christology.9,10,11 Jesus’ relationship with God is particularly on view in the first half of the Gospel. The title ‘Son of God’ means a great deal for the evangelist, much more than simply ‘king of Israel’ or the Hellenistic ‘God-man’.12 The close relationship between Father and Son (John 3:16-17; 3:35; 5:20, 22, 26; 10:38) means that the Father glorifies the Son, who in turn glorifies the Father (John 3:36; 5:21, 23, 6:40). Jesus is Son of God in an exclusive sense (John 1:14, 18; 3:16, 18), exercising the divine functions of judgment (John 5:22, 30; 8:16; 9:39) and giving life (John 4:14; 6:40, 47, 54; 10:28). Jesus alone has seen (John 6:46, 8:38), speaks for (John 3:34, 8:26-8) and works for (John 10:32, 37) his Father.13 Jesus being ‘sent’ by God has a Jewish legal flavour in that the sent one can fully represent the sender,14 but Jesus’ relationship with the Father goes beyond simply being the ‘sent one’ (John 3:17, 34; 4:34; 5:23-24, 30, 36-38; 6:29, 38-39, 44, 57; 7:16, 18, 28-29, 33; 8:16, 18, 26, 29, 42; 9:4; 10:36; 11:42).15 John 8 is structured like a paternity suit to determine the Fatherhood of God with respect to Jesus.16 John 10 climaxes in the idea of the perfect unity of will between Jesus and the Father (John 10:30, 36, 38).17,18 The relationship is stressed but not elaborated in chapters 13-17 (John 13:3, 20, 31; 14:6-11, 16, 24, 28; 15:10, 15, 21; 16:5, 28, 30; 17:3, 6, 8, 9, 10, 11, 21-22, 26). In the crucifixion we see the consummation of Christ’s predictions that there he would manifest the full glory of God (John 12:23, 13:31, 17:1).19
The relationship between Christ and believers is also emphasised in John. It, too, appears in the prologue (1:12-13) and is elaborated in the first half (e.g. 3:3, 5, 16; chapter 6). It is the focus of the farewell discourses (chapters 13-17). Indeed, Sproston believes that ‘John is not a study of Jesus, but a study in human reaction to Jesus’.20 He sees the humanity of Jesus as fundamental to the relationship between human believers and God, mediating God’s appearance (1:18, 6:46, 14:9) words (8:28, 12:49) and glory (17:22), so that the disciples participate in the Jesus/God relationship in terms of unity (10:30), knowledge (10:14-15), love (10:17), obedience (8:29), works (14:12) and filial bond (20:17).21 In addition, the emphasis upon present eschatology in John serves to highlight the life-and-death importance of belief in the Jesus whom we meet in John, rather than bypassing him in our vision of the eschaton (which is nevertheless a future reality).22
True as these observations may be, the genius of John’s christology is that both of these themes usually occur together. Furthermore, there are a number of places in John where the two themes are inextricably intertwined. In 6:37-40, the salvation of the believer (masculine gender, i.e. personal) is, in fact, the Father’s purposeful, inexorable, gift (neuter gender) to the Son. In 14:13, the Son will grant the requests of believers in order that the Father should be glorified in the Son. The egw eimi sayings carry the connotation of eternal divinity (e.g. 8:58, cf Exo 3:14; Isa 41:4; 43:10, 25; 45:18; 47:8, 10; 51:12 LXX), yet when used with a predicate, egw eimi normally points to an aspect of the saving relationship between God and his people: the bread of life (6:35, 41, 48, 51), light of the world (8:12), gate/door of the sheep (10:7), good shepherd (10:11, 14), resurrection and life (11:25), way, truth and life (14:6), vine with branches (15:1, 5).23 Jesus’ prayer in chapter 17 is a marvellous interweaving of the relationships between the Father, the Son and believers. The post-resurrection climax of 20:17 is that God is ‘My Father and your Father; My God and your God’. Thus the twofold purpose of 20:31: ‘But these things are written in order that you may believe that Jesus is The Christ, The Son of God, and in order that, because you believe, you may have life in his name.’24
The Son of Man and the twofold aim
This analysis is still rather static. But when we turn to the Son of Man, we find a vehicle which John uses to expound his twofold christological aim within the narrative flow of his Gospel. On the use of the motif itself, Morris observes,
In the Fourth Gospel [. . .] the term is always associated either with Christ’s heavenly glory or with the salvation He came to bring [. . .] “the Son of Man”, then points us to Christ’s conception of Himself as of heavenly origin and as the possessor of heavenly glory. At one and the same time it points us to His lowliness and His sufferings for men. The two are the same.25
Moloney puts this in more dynamic terms: we only know the Son of God through the Son of Man, and we are judged for how we act on the basis of this knowledge.26
Part of the OT background to the ‘Son of Man’ motif is most likely Daniel 7, where one ‘like a son of man’ comes with the clouds of heaven, is presented before the Ancient of Days and given universal, everlasting dominion and glory.27 He appears to represent the persecuted and consequently vindicated people of God, though to what extent this representation motif is present in Jesus’ ministry and/or in John’s theology is debated.28 Since the Son of Man is usually associated with being ‘lifted up’ (υψοω) , it is reasonably clear that the suffering Servant figure of Isaiah 52-53 (see especially Isaiah 52:13) has been used to exegete Daniel 7 in a new way, prompted by Jesus’ words and actions, as we shall see.29,30
John 1:51
John’s first mention of the Son of Man occurs in John 1:51, as the climax to a series of identifications of Jesus—Lamb of God (John 1:29, 36), Elect of God (John 1:34), Messiah (John 1:41), Son of Joseph (John 1:45), Son of God i.e. King of Israel (John 1:49). Jesus predicts ‘greater things than these’ (John 1:50) and then predicts in John 1:51 that ‘you’ (plural, therefore generalised) will see ‘heaven opened’ and ‘the angels of God ascending and descending upon The Son of Man.’31 This last part of the verse is a direct verbal parallel with Genesis 28:12, with cases and tenses changed only to transform the past narrative of Jacob’s dream at Bethel into a future vision. This vision of the Son of Man is clearly significant, but what does it mean? Brown sets broad parameters when he says that ‘the Son of Man is the locus of divine glory, the point of contact between heaven and earth’ (cf John 2:11).32 Walker sees it as a Hegelian synthesis between two unresolvable contradictory statements – Jesus as the human, earthly Son of Joseph and as the divine, heavenly Son of God.33 Morris and Moloney see heavenly revelation as the sole meaning of the verse.34,35 However, given the earlier part of the verse which speaks of ‘heaven opened’ in the perfect tense36 and the OT antecedents to this idea which involve judgment (Gen 7:11, Isa 24:18), life-giving (Deut 28:12, Psa 78:23) and revelation (Ezek 1:1), it is best to see this vision foreshadowing all three themes.
John 3:13-14
More information is added to the Son of Man motif in John 3:13—the ascent (and descent) of the Son of Man himself. The perfect tense of ‘ascended’ (αναβεβηκεν) has caused scholarly consternation, for at the time of speaking, Jesus had not yet ascended to his Father (John 20:17).37,38 Painter believes that these words must be spoken from the point of view of Jesus’ ascension,39 yet the strong verbal and conceptual connections with Jesus’ own words in the previous verse argue against this. It is better to see this as a ‘perfect of Scriptural application’, denoting a Scriptural passage which was written in the past but which has ongoing application—in this case, future application.40 Such perfects are common in John (John 1:18, 2:17; 6:31, 32, 45; 7:19, 22; 8:17, 33, 41; 10:34; 11:52; 12:14, 16, 40; 15:25 and possibly John 1:51). Jesus demonstrates that nobody in Scripture ascends to heaven, even though some try (e.g. Isa 14:12ff, Prov 30:1-4),41 except the Son of Man in Daniel 7 (which future vision). But, he adds, the only one qualified to ascend to heaven is the pre-existent one who descended from heaven. Hence Jesus, the Son of Man, can impart heavenly revelation to Nicodemus (cf John 3:12). Descent may not be a natural element of the Son of Man motif,42 but Jesus, through drawing out the consequences of Daniel 7, can now identify the Son of Man with the one who descended. Thus ‘Son of Man’ reveals the pre-existence of Jesus, and hence his relationship to God.
In the next verse, however, there is more on view than the revelation of Jesus’ pre-existence. The Son of Man does not merely ascend, he must be ‘lifted up’ (υψωθηναι) like Moses’ lifting up of the snake in the wilderness. The use of δει indicates a Scriptural fulfilment; the most natural place to look (in addition to the obvious reference to God’s provision of salvation from death in Numbers 21:4-9) is Isaiah 52:13ff which speaks of God’s suffering servant who is ‘raised and lifted up and highly exalted’ yet suffers dreadfully as a sin offering for the people.43 John’s implied play on the word υψοω to mean either ‘exalt’ or ‘crucify’ (which is quite possible for the Aramaic equivalent) will become more obvious as the Gospel progresses.44 The themes of judgment and the giving of life to believers are expanded directly in the subsequent discussion (verses 15-21). Lindars wants to subordinate judgment and life-giving to the overarching theme of revelation: the ‘inevitable consequences’ of one’s response to the revelation that Jesus is united with God are life or judgment.45 However, we have seen that all three themes are present in equal measure. Certainly, we are judged for how we respond to the revelation of the Son of Man (and saved, or ‘given life’, by believing), but more is going on than the ‘inevitable consequences’ of belief or unbelief. Jesus, like the servant, is to be lifted up as a sin offering. His actions have more than revelatory value.
John 5:27
Indeed, judgment is the overarching theme in John 5:27. Jesus may work on the Sabbath, because God has delegated all of his authority to Jesus: to give resurrection life (verse 21) and to judge as ‘Son of Man’ (verse 27). The anarthrous form may be making explicit the reference to Daniel 7:13.46 If so, it enhances the future eschatology which is present in verses 26-30 and which complements the realised ‘revelation’ eschatology of verses 19-25.47 Lindars and Moloney both wish to subordinate judgment to revelation, but again this is unwarranted.48,49
John 6
Lindars’ analysis of the next three references to the Son of Man in chapter 6 is marred by his assumption that the discourse is an addition to the original Gospel, and so must be analysed apart from the narrative flow. He sees the second edition adding an element of consistent (i.e. future) eschatology to the idea of Son of Man.50 However, John 6 is entirely consistent with the rest of John as it develops its twofold christology. The intimate relationship between Jesus and God is seen in the ‘certification’ of Jesus by the Father, which is the reason that he can give food which endures into eternal life (verse 27). The necessity of believing in the suffering, crucified Son of Man for present and future life is expressed in the vivid terminology of eating his flesh and drinking his blood (verse 53). These sayings may be hard, but what if you see the Son of Man ascending ‘to where he was before’ (verse 62)? The apodosis is uncertain: is he speaking of the scandalous ‘lifting up’ of the cross51 or Jesus’ rise to glory which resolves the tension?52 Perhaps the ambiguity is intentional at this stage of the drama.
John 8:28
In John 8:28, the revelation of Jesus’ unique relationship with his Father is prominent. The whole chapter is concerned with light (i.e. revelation) and the Fatherhood of God with respect to Jesus. It is held together by repeated occurrences of εγω ειμι 53 Jesus is the light (John 8:12), the one who testifies about himself (John 8:18), and finally, simply εγω ειμι without predicate—with its associated connotations of divinity (John 8:28).54 Significantly, the place in which this unique relationship with the Father will be most clearly seen is in the ‘lifting up’ of the Son of Man (verse 28). Jesus is forecasting the passion, which is ‘the decisive act, whereby Jesus’ heavenly origin is revealed and the unbelieving world is judged’.55 Nevertheless, the saving relationship between Jesus and those who believe in him is not absent; rather it is expressed negatively in chapter 8: ‘if you do not believe that εγω ειμι you will die in your sins’. Hence the necessity, in the context of light and judgment (chapter 9), to believe in the ‘Son of Man’ (John 9:35, 38).
John 12
Chapter 12 is immensely significant for a number of reasons. Verse 23 is a hinge verse in the Gospel, the turning point where Jesus’ ‘hour’ has now come (cf John 2:4; 7:6, 8, 30; 8:20).56 It does not mention ‘the Son’, so the whole chapter must be understood with reference to the title ‘Son of Man’.57 Chapter 12 makes explicit what has been implicit about the Son of Man—that his ‘lifting up’ involves both glorification (John 12:23) and death (John 12:34). The crowds understand that Jesus is the dying Son of Man, but they do not understand how this Son of Man can also be the Christ.58 Yet in this chapter, the twofold aim of Johannine Christology is brought to a climax. Jesus’ intimate relationship with God is nowhere more apparent than when the Son of Man who descended obediently submits to the Father’s will to go to the cross (John 12:27), and thus simultaneously glorifies the Father and is glorified (John 12:23, 28; see also John 13:31).59 Moreover, the saving relationship between Jesus and believers is equally pushed to the fore. His death will bear much fruit (John 12:24), those who follow and serve Jesus and hate the world will be honoured by the Father (john 12:25) and when he is ‘lifted up’, he will draw all men to himself (John 12:32). The reference to Isaiah 53:1 (John 12:38) in a Passover context (John 12:1) serves to further highlight the vicarious servant-style suffering which Jesus is about to undergo, and the tragic unbelief of many who miss out on the opportunity for life.
Conclusion: the cross and the twofold aim
The cross is of supreme importance for both themes in the twofold aim of Johannine christology. It is the primary act of obedience of Jesus to the Father. But it is not an arbitrary obedient act, as if the Son suffers simply because the Father wants him to. It is a purposeful obedient act, with the aim of dying for and saving sinners and thence glorifying both the Father and the Son. Consequently, we are not saved from judgment simply by believing that Jesus has an intimate relationship with God, which was revealed by his death. Rather, we are saved from judgment by believing in the Son of Man himself, the one who came down from heaven, who is in a unique relationship with the Father, and who died for our sins, thereby saving us from judgment and giving us life—now and forever. John has both a theology of the cross and a consistent eschatology,60 but is concerned, above all, to relate everything to the historical person of Jesus Christ who ‘came in the flesh’ (cf 1 John 4:2, 2 John 1:7). He wants us to know two things about Jesus Christ: that there is an intimate relationship between Jesus and God and that there is a saving relationship between Jesus and those who believe in him. The ‘Son of Man’ is an important aspect of this christological revelation.
Bibliography
- Beasley-Murray, George. ‘John 12:31-34: The Eschatological Significance of the Lifting up of the Son of Man’. Pages 70-81 in Studien Zum Text Und Zur Ethik Des Neuen Testaments: Festschrift Zum 80. Edited by Heinrich Greeven. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1986.
- Borgen, Peder. ‘God’s Agent in the Fourth Gospel’. Pages 137-48 in Religions in Antiquity: Essays in Memory of Erwin Ramsdell Goodenough. Edited by J. Neusner. Leiden: Brill, 1968.
- Brown, Raymond E. The Gospel According to John. 2 vols. The Anchor Bible. London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1971.
- Burkett, Delbert. The Son of the Man in the Gospel of John. Journal for the Study of the New Testament Supplement 56. Sheffield: JSOT, 1991.
- Cullmann, Oscar. The Christology of the New Testament. London: SCM, 1959.
- Culpepper, R. Alan. ‘The Christology of the Johannine Writings’. Pages 66-87 in Who Do You Say That I Am?: Essays on Christology. Edited by Mark A. Powell and David R. Bauer. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1999.
- Green, Joel B. ‘Death of Jesus’. Pages 146-163 in Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels. Edited by Joel B. Green, Scot McKnight and I. Howard Marshall. Leicester: Intervarsity, 1992.
- Hurtado, Larry W. ‘Christ’. Pages 106-17 in Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels. Edited by Joel B. Green, Scot McKnight and I. Howard Marshall. Leicester: Intervarsity, 1992.
- Lindars, Barnabas. ‘The Son of Man in Johannine Christology’. Pages 43-60 in Christ and Spirit in the New Testament. Edited by Barnabas Lindars and Stephen S. Smalley. Cambridge: University Press, 1973.
- Loader, William R. G. ‘The Central Structure of Johannine Christology’. New Testament Studies 30 (1984): 188-216.
- Marshall, I. Howard. ‘Jesus Christ’. Pages 592-602 in New Dictionary of Biblical Theology. Edited by T. D. Alexander and Brian S. Rosner. Leicester: IVP, 2000.
- ______. ‘Son of Man’. Pages 775-81 in Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels. Edited by Joel B. Green, Scot McKnight and I. Howard Marshall. Leicester: Intervarsity, 1992.
- Mealand, David L. ‘The Christology of the Fourth Gospel’. Scottish Journal of Theology 31/5 (1978): 449-467.
- Moloney, Francis J. The Johannine Son of Man. 2nd ed. Biblioteca di Scienze Religiose 14. Rome: Libreria Ateneo Salesiano, 1978.
- Morris, Leon. The Gospel According to John. The New International Commentary on the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Michigan, 1971.
- ______. Jesus Is the Christ: Studies in the Theology of John. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1989.
- Moule, G. F. D. The Origin of Christology. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977.
- Painter, John. ‘Christology and the Fourth Gospel: a Study of the Prologue’. Australian Biblical Review 31 (1983): 45-62.
- ______. ‘The Enigmatic Johannine Son of Man’. Pages 1869-87 in The Four Gospels 1992: Festschrift Frans Neirynck. Edited by F. Van Segbroeck, C.M. Tuckett, G. Van Belle and J. Verheyden. 3 vols. Leuvin: Leuvin University Press, 1992.
- Pryor, John W. ‘The Johannine Son of Man and the Descent-Ascent Motif’. Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 34/3 (1991): 341-51.
- Sproston, W. E. ‘“Is Not This Jesus, the Son of Joseph.?” (John 6:42): Johannine Christology as a Challenge to Faith’. Journal for the Study of the New Testament 24 (1985): 77-97.
- Thompson, Marianne M. ‘John, Gospel of’. Pages 368-83 in Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels. Edited by Joel B. Green, Scot McKnight and I. Howard Marshall. Leicester: Intervarsity, 1992.
- Walker, William O. ‘John 1:43-51 and “The Son of Man” in the Fourth Gospel’. Journal for the Study of the New Testament 56 (1994): 31-42.
- Wallace, Daniel B. Greek Grammar beyond the Basics: An Exegetical Syntax of the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996.
Footnotes
- 1 R. Alan Culpepper, ‘The Christology of the Johannine Writings’, in Who Do You Say That I Am?: Essays on Christology (ed. Mark A. Powell and David R. Bauer; Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1999), 66-87 has an intriguing explanation for this lack of consensus: ‘John’s Word will continue to elude our grasp. The light shines on in the darkness, but the darkness cannot comprehend it.’ (p. 86) Is he equating modern scholarship with the Johannine moral darkness?
- 2 Barnabas Lindars, ‘The Son of Man in Johannine Christology’, in Christ and Spirit in the New Testament (ed. Barnabas Lindars and Stephen S. Smalley; Cambridge: University Press, 1973), 59.
- 3 Francis J. Moloney, The Johannine Son of Man (2nd ed.; Biblioteca di Scienze Religiose 14; Rome: Libreria Ateneo Salesiano, 1978), 14-15.
- 4 Lindars, ‘Son of Man’, 44. See the critique by Moloney, Johannine Son of Man, 15.
- 5 Lindars, ‘Son of Man’, 49.
- 6 Culpepper, ‘Christology’, 66-87.
- 7 William R. G. Loader, ‘The Central Structure of Johannine Christology’, New Testament Studies 30 (1984), 188.
- 8 Loader, ‘Central Structure’, 209.
- 9 John Painter, ‘Christology and the Fourth Gospel: a Study of the Prologue’, Australian Biblical Review 31 (1983), 48.
- 10 Culpepper, ‘Christology’, 72-73.
- 11 David L. Mealand, ‘The Christology of the Fourth Gospel’, Scottish Journal of Theology 31/5 (1978), 450-52.
- 12 Mealand, ‘Christology’, 459-60.
- 13 Marianne M. Thompson, ‘John, Gospel of’, in Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels (ed. Joel B. Green, Scot McKnight and I. Howard Marshall; Leicester: Intervarsity, 1992), 378.
- 14 Peder Borgen, ‘God’s Agent in the Fourth Gospel’, in Religions in Antiquity: Essays in Memory of Erwin Ramsdell Goodenough (ed. J. Neusner; Leiden: Brill, 1968), 137-48.
- 15 Culpepper, ‘Christology’, 74.
- 16 Culpepper, ‘Christology’, 74-75.
- 17 Lindars, ‘Son of Man’, 43-60, 55-56.
- 18 Culpepper, ‘Christology’, 66-85, 74-75.
- 19 W. E. Sproston, ‘“Is Not This Jesus, the Son of Joseph.?” (John 6:42): Johannine Christology as a Challenge to Faith’, Journal for the Study of the New Testament 24 (1985), 79.
- 20 Sproston, ‘Is Not This Jesus’, 89, emphasis original; although his study is flawed by an unwarranted dichotomy between faith and evidence.
- 21 Sproston, ‘Is Not This Jesus’, 79.
- 22 George Beasley-Murray, ‘John 12:31-34: The Eschatological Significance of the Lifting up of the Son of Man’, in Studien Zum Text Und Zur Ethik Des Neuen Testaments: Festschrift Zum 80. (ed. Heinrich Greeven; Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1986), 70-81.
- 23 Thompson, ‘John’, 377.
- 24 My translation and emphasis
- 25 Leon Morris, The Gospel According to John (The New International Commentary on the New Testament; Grand Rapids: Michigan, 1971), 173.
- 26 Moloney, Johannine Son of Man, 208-20.
- 27 Lindars, ‘Son of Man’, 57.
- 28 Moloney, Johannine Son of Man, 2-17. G. F. D. Moule, The Origin of Christology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977), 11-22 sees a strong identification.
- 29 Raymond E. Brown, The Gospel According to John (2 vols.; The Anchor Bible; London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1971), 1.146.
- 30 Lindars, ‘Son of Man’, 57.
- 31 Lindars, ‘Son of Man’, 45-46.
- 32 Brown, John, 1.91.
- 33 William O. Walker, ‘John 1:43-51 and “The Son of Man” in the Fourth Gospel’, Journal for the Study of the New Testament 56 (1994): 31-42.
- 34 Morris, John, 170-71.
- 35 Moloney, Johannine Son of Man, 40-41.
- 36 Daniel B. Wallace, Greek Grammar beyond the Basics: An Exegetical Syntax of the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996), 581-82, the ‘perfect of [OT] allegory’. cf 3:13 below.
- 37 Morris, John, 223.
- 38 Brown, John, 1.132, 1.145
- 39 John Painter, ‘The Enigmatic Johannine Son of Man’, in The Four Gospels 1992: Festschrift Frans Neirynck (ed. F. Van Segbroeck et al.; 3 vols.; Leuvin: Leuvin University Press, 1992), 1878.
- 40 Wallace, Grammar, 581-52 calls this a ‘perfect of allegory’ but acknowledges the shortcomings in his nomenclature.
- 41 Delbert Burkett, The Son of the Man in the Gospel of John (Journal for the Study of the New Testament Supplement 56; Sheffield: JSOT, 1991). His thesis is that Proverbs 30:1-4 is actually behind 3:13, but his conclusions regarding the identification of the Son of Man with the Son of God are stretched too far.
- 42 John W. Pryor, ‘The Johannine Son of Man and the Descent-Ascent Motif’, Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 34/3 (1991), 346-49.
- 43 Brown, John, 1.146.
- 44 Lindars, ‘Son of Man’, 48.
- 45 Lindars, ‘Son of Man’, 47-49.
- 46 Morris, John, 320.
- 47 Brown, John, 1.220.
- 48 Lindars, ‘Son of Man’, 53.
- 49 Moloney, Johannine Son of Man, 84-86.
- 50 Lindars, ‘Son of Man’, 58-59.
- 51 Morris, John, 384.
- 52 Lindars, ‘Son of Man’, 59.
- 53 Moloney, Johannine Son of Man, 125-38.
- 54 Brown, John, 1.348.
- 55 Lindars, ‘Son of Man’, 53.
- 56 Brown, John, 1.470.
- 57 Moloney, Johannine Son of Man, 184.
- 58 Morris, John, 599.
- 59 Lindars, ‘Son of Man’, 56.
- 60 Beasley-Murray, ‘John 12’, 70-81.
From the Sola Panel:
Today we’re continuing the series on biblical word power. This time we will seek to use what we have learned about the meaning of some important biblical words, so that we can come to grips with a very significant story told by Jesus.
Definitions
To recap our key biblical definitions:
Righteousness = being in line with a standard.
Righteousness of a defendant = being in line with a legal and/or moral standard.
To justify = to declare that a person is indeed righteous (usually in a forensic context, i.e. a law court).
Atonement = dealing with any obstacle to a relationship, especially between God and human beings.
Two kinds of prayer in the temple
We’ll get to Jesus’ parable in a moment. But first let’s go back to Solomon, the man who built the temple in Jerusalem about 1,000 years before Jesus. Solomon prayed a very significant prayer at the dedication of the temple (2 Chronicles 6:14-42, see also 1 Kings 8:22-53).
Solomon begins by acknowledging that God truly dwells in heaven. Yet God has graciously put his presence in this particular temple and particularly listens to people who pray in that place (2 Chronicles 6:18-21).
What kinds of prayers does Solomon envisage will be prayed in the temple?
The first kind of prayer is a prayer for justification of individuals. The temple acts as God’s heavenly law court on earth. At the temple, people can pray to God in heaven and ask for justification. Because God is a righteous judge, he justifies the righteous, and condemns wicked sinners (2 Chronicles 6:22-23).
The second kind of prayer is a prayer for atonement. The temple is the key place where the obstacles to the relationship between people and God (i.e. the people’s sin and God’s wrath) are dealt with. When sinful people pray and ask for atonement, God grants atonement. Atonement can take place both for Israel as a whole (2 Chronicles 6:24-40) and for individuals (e.g. 2 Chronicles 6:29).
Two men who go up to the temple to pray
Jesus’ parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector (Luke 18:9-14) is a parable about two men who go up to the temple to pray (Luke 18:10) – clearly Jesus wants us to remember the two kinds of prayer that Solomon spoke about at the dedication of the temple (see above).
One of the men, the Pharisee, prays a prayer for justification (Luke 18:10-12). The Pharisee states that he, unlike others, is in line with certain moral and legal standards (Luke 18:11-12). That is, he states the case for his own righteousness before the heavenly court. Clearly, he is expecting that God in heaven will justify him (i.e. acknowledge that he is indeed righteous).
The other man, the tax collector, prays the other kind of temple-prayer – a prayer for atonement. It is a simple, humble prayer:
God, be merciful to me, a sinner! (Luke 18:13b)
(NB The word he uses is the technical word for atonement, often used in the temple-context in the Old Testament).
Yet there is a surprising twist. The Pharisee, who pleads his case for his own righteousness, is not justified – i.e. God does not declare that he is righteous. But the tax-collector, the sinner, who simply asks for atonement, is justified. The man who is expecting justification on the basis of his righteousness, doesn’t get it. But the man who asks for atonement receives both atonement and justification before God!
I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted. (Luke 18:14)
What’s happening here? If we look back at the start of the parable, we get a clue. The issue Jesus is dealing with is “self-righteousness”. Jesus is telling the parable to people who were confident that they were righteous on the basis of themselves (Luke 18:9).
The implication is that there is another basis for justification, other than our own moral or legal righteousness! Somehow, God, in his heavenly lawcourt, can look at a sinner who has asked for atonement, and declare that this sinner is indeed righteous. But that same God in that same heavenly lawcourt can look at another man who claims to be righteous (i.e. in line with legal and moral standards), and yet not make the declaration that he is righteous at all!
Justification and atonement
What is happening? It is a radical concept. Jesus in this parable brings together the two activities of the temple: justification and atonement. Indeed, Jesus is claiming that justification happens through atonement!
This teaching about justification isn’t unique to Jesus. We can see the same idea in other parts of the Bible. For example, in Isaiah’s prophecy, the sin-bearing atoning sacrifice of the Servant brings justification to many (Isaiah 53:11). The apostle Paul also brings justification and atonement together, claiming that a person is justified because Jesus Christ was presented as an atonement (Romans 3:25-26).
Plumbing the depths
How can this be? How can God declare that a sinner, who is clearly not in line with God’s moral standards, is in indeed in line with his standards? Next time we’ll explore this idea in more depth, seeing how this question is wonderfully resolved.
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