I have talked so far about several of the methods scholars use in order to study the Gospels of the NT: the literary-historical,redactional, and comparative methods. As I’ve stressed, each of these can be used for any one Gospel (or for any other piece of writing, in theory). In my textbook, when I come to the Gospel of John, I show how they all can be applied to the *same* book, before introducing an altogether different method known as the socio-historical approach. I will explain all this in a series of posts, starting with this one.
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As I have argued, historians are responsible not only for interpreting their ancient sources but also for justifying these interpretations. This is why I have self-consciously introduced and utilized different methods for each of the books we have studied: a literary-historical method for Mark, a redactional method for Matthew, a comparative method for Luke, and a thematic method for Acts. As I have indicated, there is no reason for a historian to restrict him or herself to any one of these approaches: each could be applied to any one of the books that we have studied.
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I have decided to illustrate this point by applying each of these four methods to the Gospel of John. This will be valuable not only for its own sake — that is, for showing how a variety of approaches can enrich the process of interpretation — but also for providing us with the data that we need to understand yet a fifth method that scholars have used in their study of the early Christian literature, one that might be called the “socio-historical” method. In a nutshell, the socio-historical method seeks to understand how a literary text reflects the social world and historical circumstances of the author who produced it. We have already explored this kind of question for each of the other Gospels, but only in passing. In this chapter we will learn how to pursue the matter with greater rigor and in fuller detail. Since one of the prerequisites for applying this method is a detailed knowledge of the text itself, we can begin by examining the Fourth Gospel from the literary-historical, thematic, comparative, and redactional perspectives.
The Gospel of John from a Literary-Historical Perspective
Despite its wide-ranging differences from the Synoptics — which I will begin to detail below — the Gospel of John clearly belongs with them in the same Greco-Roman genre. That is to say, it too would be perceived by an ancient reader as a biography of a religious leader: it is a prose narrative that portrays an individual’s life within a chronological framework, focusing on his inspired teachings and miraculous deeds, leading up to his death and divine vindication.
As was the case with the other Gospels, the portrayal of Jesus is established at the very outset of the narrative, by the introductory passage known as the Johannine Prologue (1:1-18). This prologue, however, is quite unlike anything we have seen in our study of the Gospels to this stage. Rather than introducing the main character of the book by name, it provides a kind of mystical reflection on the “Word” of God, a being from eternity past who was with God and yet was God (v. 1), who created the universe (v. 3), who provided life and light to all humans (vv. 4-5), and who entered into the world that he had made, only to be rejected by his own people (vv. 9-11). John the Baptist testified to this Word (vv. 6-8), but only a few received it; those who did so became children of God, having received a gift far greater even than that bestowed by the servant of God, Moses himself (vv. 12-14; 16-18).
It is not until the end of the Prologue that we learn who this “Word” of God was. When the Word became a human being, his name was Jesus Christ (v. 17).
Up to this point, that is, through the first eighteen verses of the book, the ancient reader may not have realized that he or she was reading an introduction to a biography. Rather, as I’ve indicated, the Prologue appears to be a philosophical or mystical meditation. But beginning with 1:19, the book takes on a biographical tone that continues to the very end. What should one make of the Prologue, then, from the literary-historical perspective of ancient Greco-Roman biography?
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That is where I will pick up next time.
For me, an introduction to these five critical methods has been the highpoint of my reading in your New Testament textbook thus far (I have read about half the book) and it has been very helpful to review these methods in this series of posts. Thanks.
Hi,
I have noticed it is very frequent for a scholar to mention the Johannine community whenever the topic is the Gospel of John, of course. What is so special about this community? Who were this people that seem to be an entity of its own? I haven’t seen as much reference to a Lukan (?) community, for instance. Thanks a lot.
Good question. I think in part it is because so much more work has been done on the Johannine community because more materials are available for doing so (multiple sources behind the fourth Gospel; the Johannine epistles; and so on) and because the socio-historical method arose in relation to them. There *are* discussions of the other communities, especially the Matthean, but you’re right, they are not as abundant as with the Johannine.
I don’t know if you’ve covered this before, but why do we assume the Beloved Disciple is John?
Also were any of the early church fathers suspicious of the Gospel it’s self simply because of the way the ‘Beloved Disciple’ was worked into the ‘spot light’ ad nauseam. I remember that the first time I read Johns account of them running toward the tomb, i just thought ‘give me a break’. I’m figuring a lot of people had that reaction even in antiquity, especially if they were familiar with the other gospels.
I don’t think it was John! But the logic seems to be that this must have been a disciple close to Jesus. The three closest were Peter, John, and James. James was dead by the time of the writing of the Fourth Gospel, so he’s out. Peter is otherwise mentioned by name in the Gospel in tandem with the Beloved Disciple, so he’s out. That leaves John.
I don’t understand your reasoning. You said you didn’t believe it was John, but then you eliminated all but John.
I don’t find the argument I laid out at all convincing. I was laying it out because it’s the standard argument. I’ll talk about the author of John at the very end of this thread — which may still be a week away!
This is somewhat off-topic but it’s been something I’ve been wondering about recently:
I’m curious why it seems to be so common for biblical scholars to refer to John as “the Fourth Gospel” when I don’t think I’ve seen other other Gospels referred to as the first, second, and third Gospels. Is it to sort of highlight its difference from the Synoptics?
Good question. Scholars do commonly refer to Matthew as “the First Gospel” — but they’re a bit reluctant to do so, since then it might be thought that they mean “the first one written” — which isn’t what they mean. So they usually don’t say that. So too with Mark and Luke. As it turns out, John is the fourth both chronologically and canonically, so no one minds calling it the Fourth Gospel.
That makes sense. Thanks!
Bart, since this (John) is a biography, why omit James as the Beloved Disciple, simply because he was dead at the time of the writing?
Ah, I neglected to mention a step. The traditional view is that the Beloved Disciple is not simply a character in the story but is the author’s oblique way to refer to himself. So it couldn’t be James, if the Gospel was written nearer the end of the first century, since he had already been martyred by then.
‘-) Yeah; well, I don’t think it’s John son of Zebedee, quite simply because upon Jesus’ arrest the disciples are said to have scattered. None of the original 12, who represented the 12 tribes of Israel, are known to have been at the cross. Risk of arrest would have kept them from drawing so close, I would think.
According to Luke 10:1 (and only in Luke, I believe) there were “other” disciples. 72 of them appointed by “the Lord”, Jesus, who are not mentioned as having been at Gethsemane, so what fear had they of being arrested should one or the other of them have drawn nearer to the cross or watched from a distance?
Any one of these 72 could have been the “beloved disciple”, it seems to me, making it difficult for me to discount James, the brother of Jesus and a devout Jew, who wouldn’t have had a problem taking Jesus’ message “Repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand!” to the “lost sheep of Israel,” which is to say, the lost in sin and influenced by Greek/Roman influence, to include temple hierarchy. Forget about all of the stuff about Jesus being the “Lamb of God” born but to take away the sins of the world in an ultimate act of self sacrifice. His family didn’t believe that, or at least Mary seemed to have long since forgotten for what purpose her first born son was born.
Furthermore, it makes sense to me that a brother would accompany their mother to the horrific site of the crucifixion. Born second to Jesus, he was next in line to assume familial responsibilities. I find it quite reasonable to liken the beloved disciple then to James even in consideration of Jesus’ own (alleged) words from the cross:
John 19:26-27. “Mother, behold your son!” And to the disciple he said, “Behold your mother.” Why can we not take these words literally, if in fact they were spoken at all?
Yes, I understand that John has long since been believed to be the beloved disciple. Even that he likened himself to be such, in a much more subtle manner than say would Paul, but that doesn’t make it so. He just doesn’t fit, in my opinion, and to the point that I wonder if there weren’t really more than 12 at that Last Supper, though we’re only told of the 12.
Even as I write this, and though I am no longer a practicing Evangelical, I’m looking long and hard at a Fresco of the Last Supper that yet hangs on my dining room wall, and I wonder, who took the picture? Who really wrote the account?
I’m sure you’re familiar with the New Testament commentaries by William Barclay. One of the more interesting things I read in his commentary on the gospel of John relates to John1:1. Barclay provides a brief lesson in Greek when he says that when reference to God is intended, John [in John 1:1] used the Greek “ho theos”. But when the definite article “ho” is missing the preferred reading, he says, is to think of “theos” as an adjective – so that in John 1 Barclay would say that John did not mean that Jesus was God but that he was God-like [my words]
What do you think?
I think he’s wrong. As do most biblical translators! The subject takes the article, but the predicate nominative does not need to. (There was a different word for “God-like” or “divine”: THEIOS.
Ah! Well I learn two things – thanks. I was sorta hoping that Barclay was right since it would tend to disarm those who use John 1 in support of the Trinity. Oh well!
Dr Ehrman –
Question re: the intended range of the Greek term κόσμου in John 1:29, which leads to the English rendering of “sins of the world” in the NSRV. It’s ambiguous in the English, and I was wondering if perhaps the underlying Greek disambiguates the meaning.
Q1: Is ‘the world’ (κόσμου) here meant to be read as a qualifier term (worldly/earthly sins), or as a quantifier term (everyone’s sins), or as a combination of both (everyone’s earthly sins)?
Q2: If the JB quote in John 1:29 were historical (highly doubtful), what would have been the underlying Aramaic equivalent for κόσμου?
Thanks in advance!
1. I’m afraid I’m not sure I understand. What kinds of sins does one sin other than those on earth? But yes, KOSMOU here means something like “of all creation” 2. I don’t know.
Ha – yes agreed on the location of one’s sinning. The intended distinction I’m trying to draw here around the meaning/range/quantification of what KOSMOU means is: “just earthly, but not in sense of all” vs. “the sense really is all”. I understand you to be saying it’s “both earthly and all”. That’s really really helpful for this non-Greek speaker. Thanks a ton!