John 1

CHAPTER I

THE PROLOG

The Word Became Flesh, 1–18

John’s Gospel begins without a title of any kind and thus differs from Revelation, which carries a distinct title from John’s own hand, and from the Gospels of Matthew and of Mark, both of which begin with titles. Luke has an introduction and an address and is peculiar in this respect. While John’s prolog may be called an introduction, it is one of an entirely different type. This prolog sums up the contents of the entire Gospel. It does this by brief, succinct historical statements. Each of these is wonderfully simple and clear and yet so weighty and profound that the human mind is unable to fathom them. Amid all that has been written by the instruments of Inspiration this prolog stands out as the one paragraph that is most profound, most lofty, and incomparable in every way.

Later hands have added a caption to John’s Gospel; it is like those that have been placed at the head of the other Gospels and the other New Testament writings. The oldest is simply: “According to John”; then: “Gospel according to John” and other modifications of this simple title. This was done when the Gospels and the other writings were collected and when the New Testament canon was being formed. The preposition κατά, “according to,” designates the Apostle John as the writer of this Gospel. We have no linguistic or other evidence that the preposition is meant in any other sense. The contention that κατά here means: “according to the type of preaching” done by John is put forward in order to make room for the unknown author of this Gospel who is thought to have used material derived from John and who wrote at a later date. If this contention holds good, the title for Mark’s Gospel would have to be: “The Gospel according to Peter,” and that of Luke: “The Gospel according to Paul,” for both Mark and Luke are dependent on these apostles.

John’s is the paragon among the Gospels, “the one, tender, real crown-Gospel of them all” (Luther), and the prolog is the central jewel set in pure gold. The very first words show that John writes for Christian believers, for every sentence presupposes conversance with the faith. John writes as though he stands in the midst of the congregation, all eyes and ears being fixed upon him to hear the blessed Gospel words from his lips. The prolog has been divided in various ways, as one or the other of its statements has been stressed. The most natural division seems to be: 1) The eternal Word, the Creator of all, is the light and life shining into the sinful world, v. 1–5; 2) The Word came into the sinful world, awakening faith and arousing unbelief, v. 6–12; 3) The Word became flesh in the world and brought us grace and truth from the Father, v. 13–18. These three parts, however, are not coordinate blocks, laid in a row one beside the other; they are built up like a pyramid, the one rising above the other.

It is all a most wonderful story, this about the Word: He shines—he comes—he appears incarnate. It is a mistake to read even the prolog, not to speak of the entire Gospel, as if John intends to show us only the eternal godhead of the Son. John attests the humanity of the Son as fully and as completely as the divinity and godhead. The miracle of the ages is that the Word became flesh and dwelt among men. Some of the most intimate human touches regarding the Savior are recorded for us by John, and yet the person to whom these human features belong is God’s own Son.

John 1:1

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. This One was in the beginning with God. Even the first readers of John’s Gospel must have noted the resemblance between the first phrase ἐνἀρχῇ, “in the beginning,” and that with which Moses begins Genesis. This parallel with Moses was, no doubt, intentional on John’s part. The phrase points to the instant when time first began and the first creative act of God occurred. But instead of coming down from that first instant into the course of time, John faces in the opposite direction and gazes back into the eternity before time was. We may compare John 17:5; 8:58, and possibly Rev. 3:14, but scarcely ἀπʼ ἀρχῆς in Prov. 8:23, for in this passage “from the beginning” refers to Wisdom, a personification, of which v. 25 reports: “I was brought forth,” something that is altogether excluded as regards the divine person of the Logos.

In the Greek many phrases lack the article, which is not considered necessary, R. 791; so John writes ἐιἀρχῇ. But in John’s first sentence the emphasis is on this phrase “in the beginning” and not on the subject “the Word.” This means that John is not answering the question, “Who was in the beginning?” to which the answer would naturally be, “God”; but the question, “Since when was the Logos?” the answer to which is, “Since all eternity.” This is why John has the verb ἦν, “was,” the durative imperfect, which reaches back indefinitely beyond the instant of the beginning. What R. 833 says about a number of doubtful imperfects, some of which, though they are imperfect in form are yet used as aorists in sense, can hardly be applied in this case. We, of course, must say that the idea of eternity excludes all notions of tense, present, past, and future; for eternity is not time, even vast time, in any sense but the absolute opposite of time—timelessness. Thus, strictly speaking, there is nothing prior to “the beginning,” and no duration or durative tense in eternity. In other words, human language has no forms of expression that fit the conditions of the eternal world.

Our minds are chained to the concepts of time. Of necessity, then, when anything in eternity is presented to us, it must be by such imperfect means as our minds and our language afford. That is why the durative idea in the imperfect tense ῆ̓ν is superior to the punctiliar aoristic idea: In the beginning the Logos “was,” ein ruhendes und waehrendes Sein (Zahn)—“was” in eternal existence. All else had a beginning, “became,” ἐγένετο, was created; not the Logos. This—may we call it—timeless ῆ̓ν in John’s first sentence utterly refutes the doctrine of Arius, which he summed up in the formula: ἦνὅτεοὑκῆ̓ν, “there was (a time) when he (the Son) was not.” The eternity of the Logos is co-equal with that of the Father.

Without a modifier, none being necessary for John’s readers and hearers, he writes ὁλόγος, “the Word.” This is “the only-begotten Son which is in the bosom of the Father,” v. 18. “The Logos” is a title for Christ that is peculiar to John and is used by him alone. In general this title resembles many others, some of them being used also by Christ himself, such as Light, Life, Way, Truth, etc. To imagine that the Logos-title involves a peculiar, profound, and speculative Logos-doctrine on the part of John is to start on that road which in ancient times led to Gnosticism and in modern times to strange views of the doctrine concerning Christ. We must shake off, first of all, the old idea that the title “Logos” is in a class apart from the other titles which the Scriptures bestow upon Christ, which are of a special profundity, and that we must attempt to penetrate into these mysterious depths. This already will release us from the hypothesis that John borrowed this title from extraneous sources, either with it to grace his own doctrine concerning Christ or to correct the misuse of this title among the churches of his day. Not one particle of evidence exists to the effect that in John’s day the Logos-title was used for Christ in the Christian churches in any false way whatever.

And not one particle of evidence exists to the effect that John employed this title in order to make corrections in its use in the church. The heretical perversions of the title appear after the publication of John’s Gospel.

Philo’s and the Jewish-Alexandrian doctrine of a logos near the time of Christ has nothing to do with the Logos of John. Philo’s logos is in no sense a person but the impersonal reason or “idea” of God, a sort of link between the transcendent God and the world, like a mental model which an artist forms in his thought and then proceeds to work out in some kind of material. This logos, formed in God’s mind, is wholly subordinate to him, and though it is personified at times when speaking of it, it is never a person as is the Son of God and could not possibly become flesh and be born a man. Whether John knew of this philosophy it is impossible for us to say; he himself betrays no such knowledge.

As far as legitimate evidence goes, it is John who originated this title for Christ and who made it current and well understood in the church of his day. The observation is also correct that what this title expressed in one weighty word was known in the church from the very start. John’s Logos is he that is called “Faithful and True” in Rev. 19:11; see v. 13: “and his name is called The Word of God.” He is identical with the “Amen, the faithful and true witness,” in Rev. 3:14; and the absolute “Yea,” without a single contradictory “nay” in the promises of God in 2 Cor. 1:19, 20, to whom the church answers with “Amen.” This Logos is the revealed “mystery” of God, of which Paul writes Col. 1:27; 2:2; 1 Tim. 3:16; which he designates explicitly as “Christ.” These designations go back to the Savior’s own words in Matt. 11:27; 16:17. Here already we may define the Logos-title: the Logos is the final and absolute revelation of God, embodied in God’s own Son, Jesus Christ. Christ is the Logos because in him all the purposes, plans, and promises of God are brought to a final focus and an absolute realization.

But the thesis cannot be maintained that the Logos-title with its origin and meaning is restricted to the New Testament alone, in particular to the Son incarnate, and belongs to him only as he became flesh. When John writes that the Logos became flesh, he evidently means that he was the Logos long before he became flesh. How long before we have already seen—before the beginning of time, in all eternity. The denial of the Son’s activity as the Logos during the Old Testament era must, therefore, be denied. When John calls the Son the Logos in eternity, it is in vain to urge that v. 17 knows only about Moses for the Old Testament and Christ as the Logos only for the New. Creation takes place through the Logos, v. 3; and this eternal Logos is the life and light of men, v. 4, without the least restriction as to time (New as opposed to Old Testament time).

The argument that this Logos or Word “is spoken” and does not itself “speak” is specious. This would require that the Son should be called ὁλεγόμενος instead of ὁλόγος. The Logos is, indeed, spoken, but he also speaks. As being sent, given, brought to us we may stress the passive idea; as coming, as revealing himself, as filling us with light and life, the active idea is just as true and just as strong.

This opens up the wealth of the Old Testament references to the Logos. “And God said, Let there be light,” Gen. 1:4. “And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness,” Gen. 1:26. “Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God,” Heb. 11:3. “By the word of the Lord were the heavens made.… For he spake, and it was done; he commanded, and it stood fast,” Ps. 33:6 and 9. “He sent his word,” Ps. 107:20; 147:15. These are not mere sounds that Jehovah uttered as when a man utters a command, and we hear the sound of his words. In these words and commands the Son stands revealed in his omnipotent and creative power, even as John says in v. 3: “All things were made by him.” This active, omnipotent revelation “in the beginning” reveals him as the Logos from all eternity, one with the Father and the Spirit and yet another, namely the Son.

He is the Angel of the Lord, who meets us throughout the Old Testament from Genesis to Malachi, even “the Angel of the Presence,” Isa. 63:9. He is “the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of every creature: for by him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers: all things were created by him, and for him: and he was before all things, and by him all things consist. And he is the head of the body, the church: who is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead; that in all things he might have the preeminence. For it pleased the Father, that in him should all fulness dwell,” Col. 1:15–19. This is the revelation of the Logos in grace. The idea that by the Logos is meant only the gospel, or the gospel whose content is Christ, falls short of the truth. “Logos” is a personal name, the name of him “whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting,” Micah 5:2.

And so we define once more, in the words of Besser, “The Word is the living God as he reveals himself, Isa. 8:25; Heb. 1:1, 2.” Using a weak human analogy, we may say: as the spoken word of a man is the reflection of his inmost soul, so the Son is “the brightness of his (the Father’s) glory, and the express image of his person,” Heb. 1:3. Only of Jesus as the Logos is the word true, “He that hath seen me hath seen the Father,” John 16:9; and that other word, “I and my Father are one,” John 10:30.

And the Word was with God, πρὸςτὸνθεόν. Here we note the first Hebrew trait in John’s Greek, a simple coordination with καί, “and,” followed in a moment by a second. The three coordinate statements in v. 1 stand side by side, and each of the three repeats the mighty subject, “the Word.” Three times, too, John writes the identical verb ῆ̓ν, its sense being as constant as that of the subject: the Logos “was” in all eternity, “was” in an unchanging, timeless existence. In the first statement the phrase “in the beginning” is placed forward for emphasis; in the second statement the phrase “with God” is placed at the end for emphasis.

In the Greek Θεός may or may not have the article, for the word is much like a proper noun, and in the Greek this may be articulated, a usage which the English does not have. Cases in which the presence or the absence of the article bears a significance we shall note as we proceed. The preposition πρός, as distinct from ἐν, παρά, and σύν, is of the greatest importance. R. 623 attempts to render its literal force by translating: “face to face with God.” He adds 625 that πρός is employed “for living relationship, intimate converse,” which well describes its use in this case. The idea is that of presence and communion with a strong note of reciprocity. The Logos, then, is not an attribute inhering in God, or a power emanating from him, but a person in the presence of God and turned in loving, inseparable communion toward God, and God turned equally toward him.

He was another and yet not other than God. This preposition πρός sheds light on Gen. 1:26, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.”

Now comes the third statement: And the Word was God. In English we place the predicate last, while in the Greek it is placed first in order to receive the fullest emphasis. Here Θεός must omit the article thus making sure that we read it as the predicate and not as the subject, R. 791. “‘The Word was with God.’ This sounds, speaking according to our reason, as though the Word was something different from God. So he turns about, closes the circle, and says, ‘And God was the Word.’” Luther. God is the Word, God himself, fully, completely, without diminution, in very essence. What the first statement necessarily involves when it declares that already in the beginning the Word was; what the second statement clearly involves when it declares the eternal reciprocal relation between the Word and God—that is declared with simple directness in the third statement when the Word is pronounced God with no modifier making a subtraction or limitation.

And now all is clear; we now see how this Word who is God “was in the beginning,” and how this Word who is God was in eternal reciprocal relation with God. This clarity is made perfect when the three ῆ̓ν are seen to be eternal, shutting out absolutely a past that in any way is limited. The Logos is one of the three divine persons of the eternal Godhead.

John 1:2

2 And now the three foregoing sentences are joined into one: This One was in the beginning with God. Just as we read “the Word,” “the Word,” “the Word,” three times, like the peals of a heavenly bell, like a golden chord on an organ not of earth sounding again and again, so the three rays of heavenly light in the three separate sentences fuse into one—a sun of such brightness that human eyes cannot take in all its effulgence. “It is as if John, i.e., the Spirit of God who reveals all this to him, meant to bar from the beginning all the attempts at denial which in the course of dogmatical and historical development would arise; as though he meant to say: I solemnly repeat, The eternal Godhead of Christ is the foundation of the church, of faith, of true Christology!” G. Mayer.

The Greek has the handy demonstrative οὗτος with which it sums up emphatically all that has just been said concerning a subject. In English we must use a very emphatic “he” or some equivalent like “this One,” “the Person,” or “the same” (our versions), although these equivalents are not as smooth and as idiomatic as οὗτος is in the Greek. Verse 2 does not intend to add a new feature regarding the Logos; it intends, by repeating the two phrases from the first two sentences, once more with the significant ῆ̓ν, to unite into a single unified thought all that the three preceding sentences have placed before us in coordination. So John writes “this One,” re-emphasizing the third sentence, that the Word was God; then “was in the beginning,” re-emphasizing the first sentence, that the Word was in the beginning; finally “with God,” re-emphasizing the second sentence, that the Word was in reciprocal relation with God. Here one of the great characteristics of all inspired writing should not escape us; realities that transcend all human understanding are uttered in words of utmost simplicity yet with flawless perfection. The human mind cannot suggest an improvement either in the terms used or in the combination of the terms that is made.

Since John’s first words recall Genesis 1, we point to Moses, the author of that first chapter, as another incomparable example of inspired writing—the same simplicity for expressing transcendent thought, the same perfection in every term and every grammatical combination of terms. Let us study Inspiration from this angle, i.e., from what it has actually produced throughout the Bible. Such study will both increase our faith in Inspiration and give us a better conception of the Spirit’s suggestio rerum et verborum.

John 1:3

3 The first four sentences belong together, being connected, as they are, by two καί and the resumptive οὗτος. They present to us the person of the Logos, eternal and very God. Without a connective v. 3 proceeds with the first work of the Logos, the creation of all things. All things were made through him; and without him was not made a single thing that is made. The negative second half of this statement re-enforces and emphasizes the positive first half. While John advances from the person to the work, this work substantiates what is said about the person; for the Logos who created all things must most certainly be God in essence and in being.

“All things,” πάντα without the article, an immense word in this connection, all things in the absolute sense, the universe with all that it contains. This is more than τὰπάντα with the article, which would mean all the things that exist at present, while πάντα covers all things present, past, and future. While the preposition διά denotes the medium, Rom. 11:36 and Heb. 2:10 show that the agent himself may be viewed as the medium; hence “through him,” i.e., the Logos, must not be read as though the Logos was a mere tool or instrument. The act of creation, like all the opera ad extra, is ascribed to the three persons of the God-head and thus to the Son as well as to the Father; compare the plural pronouns in Gen. 1:26.

The verb ἐγένετο, both in meaning and in tense, is masterly. The translation of our versions is an accommodation, for the verb means “came into existence,” i.e., “became” in this sense. The existence of all things is due to the Logos, not, indeed, apart from the other persons of the Godhead but in conjunction with them, as is indicated throughout the creative speaking in Gen. 1. “All things came into being” since the beginning, the Logos through whom they were called into being existed before the beginning, from eternity. The verb “became” is written from the point of vieẃ of the things that entered existence, while in Genesis the verb “created” is written from the viewpoint of God, the Creator. John repeats ἐγένετο in the negative part of his statement and adds the perfect tense γέγονεν in the attached relative clause. These repetitions emphasize the native meaning of this verb. As creatures of the Logos “all things became.”

The punctiliar tense, a historical aorist, is in marked contrast to the durative imperfect of the four preceding ῆ̓ν. This aorist goes back to the creative acts of Gen. 1. These acts are fundamental; for all creatures that came into existence in the later course of time have their origin in the creative acts of that wonderful week recorded in Genesis. We may thus pass down through the centuries, even to the last day of time, and always it will be true: ὁκόσμοςδιʼ αὑτοῦἐγένετο, “the world was made through him,” v. 10, where this significant verb is repeated for the fourth time.

John’s positive statement is absolute. This the negative counterpart makes certain: and without him was not a single thing made that is made. Whereas the plural πάντα covers the complete multitude or mass, the strong singular οὑδὲἕν points to every individual in that mass and omits none. “Not one thing” is negative; hence also the phrase with the verb is negative, “became without him” or apart from him and his creative power. Apart from the Logos is nihil negativum et privativum. Yet in both the positive and the negative statements concerning the existence of all things and of every single thing the implication stands out that the Logos himself is an absolute exception. He never “became” or “came into existence.” No medium (διά) is in any sense connected with his being. The Son is from all eternity “the uncreated Word.”

The relative clause ὃγέγονεν is without question to be construed with ἕν and cannot be drawn into the next sentence. We need not present all the details involved in this statement since the question must be considered closed. The margin of the R. V., which still offers the other reading, is incorrect and confusing. No man has ever been able to understand the sense of the statement, “That which hath been made was life in him.” Linguistically the perfect tense with its present force, γέγονεν, clashes quite violently with the following imperfect tense ῆ̓ν, so violently that the ancient texts were altered, changing οὑδὲἕν into οὑδέν, and ζωὴἧν into ζωήἐστιν. But even these textual alterations fail to give satisfaction apart from the grave question of accepting them as the true reading of the text.

So we read, “And without him not a single thing that exists came into existence.” The perfect tense γέγονεν, of course, has a present implication and may be translated, “that exists” or “that is made.” But the perfect tense has this force only as including the present result of a past act. The perfect always reaches from the past into the present. The single thing of which John speaks came into existence in the past and only thus is in existence now. What John thus says is that every single thing that now exists traces its existence back to the past moment when it first entered existence. Thus the aorist ἐγένετο is true regarding all things in the universe now or at any time. Every one of them derives its existence from the Logos.

Since γέγονεν as a perfect tense includes past origin, we should not press its present force so as to separate the past creative acts of the Logos from the present existence of the creature world.

John 1:4

4 From the creative work of the Logos John turns to his soteriological work. He begins without a connective and uses four brief sentences which are joined in the simplest fashion by means of three καί. In him was life; and the life was the light of men. And the light shines in the darkness; and the darkness overcame it not. The first two statements belong together, because the two verbs, ῆ̓ν, are identical. The third clause continues not with an imperfect but with a present tense; and the fourth ends with an aorist.

John uses the term ζωή fifty-four times. It is one of the key words of his Gospel. Used here in the first statement without the article, the quality of the word is stressed: in the Logos was “life,” life in the fullest, highest sense, the eternal, blessed life of God. The emphasis is on the phrase which heads the statement, “in him” was life. This implies a contrast with all the living beings who came into existence by the creative act of the Logos. They all received life—it came to them as a gift from a higher source.

They all also are capable of death, and while some escaped death (the good angels), all the rest came under death’s power. The very attribute of the Logos is life, the life that corresponds with his being, forever inherent in his very essence, absolutely incapable of any hurt, subtraction, or deteriorating change. While this first statement of John’s refers to the Logos only and as such reaches no farther, it is yet not to be considered abstractly, as a piece of interesting information concerning only this great being, the Logos. It is preliminary to the statements which follow and which pertain most directly to us. In fact, the very terms “Logos” and “life” look toward us and have a bearing upon us, even as all the statements in v. 4 and 5, the first as well as the rest, are made for our sakes and for ours alone.

Because John’s statement that life was in the Logos follows his statement regarding the creature world, ζωή is often taken to mean “life” in the sense of the animation of all living creatures. This is unwarranted. In v. 4, 5 John predicates nothing concerning the creatures called into being by the Logos. Many of these have no life of any kind, they are lifeless and inorganic and merely exist without living. Those that are animated received their animation when they were called into existence. Moreover, ζωή is never used with reference to mere creature life; its character is always heavenly and spiritual never physical. Enough wonderful things appear in John’s Gospel without our adding thereto, and we must remember that John wrote not for speculative philosophers and lofty theological thinkers but for the church at large.

Much thought has been spent on the verb ῆ̓ν, “was,” especially on the imperfect tense. John writes, “In him was life,” and not, as we might expect, “In him is life,” i.e., ever and always, timelessly, from eternity to eternity. A strong effort is made to regard ἦν as a historical tense, referring to a fixed period in the past. One view is that John here refers to the brief period of innocence in Paradise. A division is made between v. 4 and v. 5, placing the fall of man between them. But the mere tense of ῆ̓ν is too slender a foundation on which to base such an interpretation.

Another view has “was” refer historically to the time of Christ here on earth. It is pointed out that “was” follows the two historical aorists “became” in v. 3 and even the perfect γέγονεν with its present implication. Likewise, that “was” in the first sentence in v. 4 gets its meaning from “was” in the second sentence of this verse. The latter is then regarded as pertaining to Christ’s appearance here on earth. In substantiation John 9:5 is quoted, “When I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” Likewise 12:46; 12:35, 36; 3:19. Of course, we are told, the light and the life did not depart with Christ’s visible presence; now it is the Paraclete through whom they come to us.

In spite of this argument ῆ̓ν in v. 4 is not a true historical tense. The passages adduced come within the two ἦν in v. 4, but no one is able to prove that they cover and exhaust the extent of time of these ῆ̓ν. Likewise it is impossible to prove that these two imperfects must denote the time subsequent to the two ἐγένετο in v. 3, and it is plain that these ῆ̓ν cannot be subsequent to the perfect γέγονεν.

The favorite view is that the two ῆ̓ν refer back to the entire Old Testament period. This is much nearer to the truth. Usually, however, this view is broadened to take in also all the natural knowledge of God left to the pagan world and all the moral principles that still survive among heathen nations. “There has been much foolish speculation as to how the Word of God in its divinity could be a light, which naturally shines and has always given light to the minds of men even among the heathen. Therefore the light of reason has been emphasized and based upon this passage of Scripture. These are all human, Platonic, and philosophical thoughts, which lead us away from Christ into ourselves; but the evangelist wishes to lead us away from ourselves into Christ.… He would not have us diffuse our thoughts among the creatures which he has created, so as to pursue him, search for him, and speculate about him as the Platonic philosophers do; but he wishes to lead us away from those vague and high-flown thoughts and bring us together in Christ … Therefore the light must mean the true light of grace in Christ and not the natural light, which also sinners, Jews, heathen, and devils have, who are the greatest enemies of the light.… I am well aware that all the light of reason is ignited by the divine light; and as I have said of the natural life, that it has its origin in, and is part of, the true life, when it has come to the right knowledge, so also the light of reason has its origin in, and is part of, the true light, when it recognizes and honors him by whom it has been ignited.” Luther, Lenker’s translation, Postil, 190, etc. He then proceeds to show how the light of reason, when it remains separate from Christ, becomes extinguished and dies out, how it misleads into error and the most dangerous falsehood, how, when the light of grace comes, a battle ensues, and, when the light of grace conquers, it also “enlightens the light of nature in man” and makes this what it should be. “We must follow the streams which lead to the source and not away from it.”

Once it is clearly perceived that the very name “Logos,” borne by the Son before the world began, is pointless save as it declares him to be God’s revelation to us who need this eternal Logos, the difficulties about the tense of the two ῆ̓ν will disappear. We shall, of course, not identify these two with the three ῆ̓ν in v. 1, 2, for these three extend back only from “the beginning” into infinite eternity, while the two ῆ̓ν in v. 4 extend back from Christ’s incarnation across the entire Old Testament into eternity. For John’s Christian readers it was not strange that all the works of grace should have their inception in eternity and there disappear in mystery from our finite eyes. Just because ῆ̓ν goes back indefinitely, it is the proper tense. An aorist would sound historical and thus be unfit. Just as the eternal Word was in the beginning, so also in the beginning and in addition since the incarnation this Word was life, and this life was the light of men.

John writes was and not the timeless is because he intends to make an incision at the time of the incarnation. This event and the history that follows he records in due order. It would be a misstatement to say that the Logos became or was made life either in time or before time. Looking backward, no limit can be set, looking forward, John himself sets the limit at the close of the Old Testament or at the incarnation.

As life and light are inseparably joined together in nature, so also they are joined in the domain of the spirit and divine grace. Where divine, true life is, there divine, true light is, and where light, there also life. “In Christ is the life-light, outside is the night of death.” Besser. Yet “life” is placed first, and “light” second. The evangelist cannot say that in the Logos was light, and the light was the life of men. Light is that which shines out and manifests itself; it emanates from life which is fundamental and in its essence a deep, mysterious, hidden power. Divine truth is light as it shines out from him who is the Truth; but this truth is the manifestation of the life that underlies it even as Jesus also calls himself the Life.

Moreover, light is a figurative term. It recalls the sun which lights up the physical universe. So the life that is in the Logos is intended to light up the world and the souls of men. The term “light” always connotes its opposite darkness, just as “life” always suggets its opposite death. Both “life” and “light,” just like “Logos,” are human terms. They apply to us as we are in this world where death and darkness prevail, and where we need the revelation of the Word.

In heaven these terms would either not apply at all or would apply in a meaning so wonderful that our minds now could not comprehend the concepts. “Light” equals truth, and this signifies reality, namely all the reality of God’s will, purpose, and plans as they center in his love or grace and are incorporated in the Logos, who is Jesus Christ, our Lord. This divine and blessed reality is composed of many facts, each of which, in turn, constitutes a reality; and when these realities are properly voiced in human language, we call them doctrines. Our soul’s highest interests are thus tied up with the doctrines of Christ, the Word. Every unreality (lie), though it is trigged up in the most captivating language, constitutes a false doctrine and by its very nature works death and destruction for the soul.

In all cases where a genitive is added to designate the domain that is to be lighted, as “the light of men” or “the light of the world,” the term “light” denotes not the radiance that spreads abroad, but the luminary itself from which the radiance emanates. So the sun in the heavens is the “light” of the physical world. Without this sun we should perish in physical darkness. Without the Logos and his saving life we should likewise perish in spiritual darkness. The purpose and the task of the light is to enlighten, to bestow upon men the knowledge of the truth. “For in thee is the fountain of life: in thy light shall we see light,” Ps. 36:9. This knowledge is never merely intellectual, it affects the entire being and turns all who are enlightened into children of light who are born anew of the light.

John 1:5

5 “And the light shines in the darkness,” φαίνει, a durative present tense. Here is Luther’s comment: “Christ has always been the Life and the Light, even before his birth, from the beginning, and will ever remain so to the end. He shines at all times, in all creatures, in the Holy Scriptures, through his saints, prophets, and ministers, in his word and works; and he has never ceased to shine. But in whatever place he has shone, there was great darkness, and the darkness apprehended him not.” The present tense of the verb “shines” has led to the interpretation that here John speaks of the New Testament presence of the Logos. But why impose such a restriction when the general subject is still the eternal Logos, and when “the darkness” in which the light shines is not restricted to the New Testament era? It is the very nature of the light to shine, to send out its rays, to illuminate, to transfer itself? Though this is true, John is not making a remark on the abstract nature of light in general. “The light” is the one specific light mentioned in v. 4, the Logos with his life—it is he that goes on shining in the darkness.

So also the phrase “in the darkness” with its Greek article is specific, not darkness in general but in this world of ours made dark through sin and death. Between the later word σκοτία and the older σκότος no difference exists. The abstract term “darkness,” which expresses a quality, is here substituted for the concrete expression “dark world” and sums up in a single word and from one angle all the hostile forces that exist in the fallen world. “Darkness,” while it is a negative term like all the words for sin and death, is, nevertheless, never used in a merely negative way as denoting only the absence of light. If this darkness were no more, it would be like the physical absence of light which at once vanishes when light is supplied, i.e., when a luminary appears. The darkness of the world is a hostile power full of resistance to the true light of the Logos. The shining of the light in the darkness is, therefore, always an invasion of the territory held by the darkness, a challenge of the power of darkness, a battle to destroy this power, a victory robbing the darkness of its prey.

It is thus that the light shines in the darkness. Far from the darkness invading the light or putting it out, the opposite takes place. Moreover, the light or luminary is never in the least affected by the darkness—this luminary is the eternal, unconquerable life of the eternal Word and as such it shines and shines in triumphant power. We see its shining in the first promise of the seed of the woman in Eden; we see its broadening, intensified radiance throughout Old Testament times; we see some of its scattered rays striking even into the dark Gentile world with which Israel came into contact; and then we see the wonderful shining like the sun in its zenith when the gospel was carried to the ends of the earth; even so it is shining now. What a wonderful fact, “And the light shines in the darkness!”

We must translate the next sentence according to the margin of the R. V., “And the darkness overcame it not.” The verb καταλαμβάνειν has two meanings, “to apprehend something” in order to possess and to retain it, as in Phil. 3:12; 1 Cor. 9:24; Rom. 9:30; and “to pounce upon something” in order to bring it into one’s power so that it shall not escape or assert itself. The analogy of Scripture is in favor of the latter meaning. This analogy embraces all the passages in which a hostile force like σκοτία is active, as for instance a demon in the case of possession in Mark 9:18; the last day as a thief in the night in 1 Thess. 5:4; the darkness in John 12:35; many LXX passages, like the sinner’s iniquities in Ps. 40:12; the evil in Gen. 19:19; and thus constantly in the Scriptures and in other writings. We should also note that “darkness” cannot possibly “apprehend,” hold and embrace “the light,” it can only resist and war against it. Finally, the force of the aorist tense of the verb would clash with the durative shining of the light; this aorist would have to be a durative present: the light shines, and the darkness does not apprehend, does not appropriate it. The aorist, however, is in place when we translate, “And the darkness did not overcome the light.” It made strong attempts to do so, as Jesus prophesied in John 15:18 and 16:4, as the death of Jesus attests, and the Acts report at length; but always its efforts were without success, for the light still shines on.

The A. V. translates “comprehended,” which would be only an intellectual act, one that is impossible for “the darkness.” The R. V. offers “apprehended,” which is deeper and yet involves the same difficulty as to meaning and as to tense.

John 1:6

6 Verse 6 introduces the second section of the prolog which extends to v. 12. The first starts with eternity and sketches the activity of the Logos before his coming into the world. The second starts with the Baptist and sketches the Logos as having come into the world and into his own. V. 6–12 thus includes the incarnation, yet John withholds mention of it in so many words because he intends to reserve this miracle of miracles for the final section of the prolog, the climax of this mighty introduction to the body of his Gospel.

There came a man, commissioned from God, whose name was John—a few touches, and the picture of this man is complete. While the evangelist sketches the Baptist with some detail in v. 6–8, this is not done with a view to introducing to the readers a person unknown and new to them. John writes about the Baptist much as he does about the Logos. The readers know both; what John does is to lift out for each the vital and important features to which John wants the readers to give special heed. John thus presents no history of the Baptist and does not even point out his distinctive work of baptizing, either by describing this activity or by calling him the Baptist.

The very first words: ἐγένετοἄνθρωπος, “there was (or came) a man,” are in marked contrast to ῆ̓νὁλόγος, “was the Word,” in v. 1. The aorist is plainly historical: he came, trat auf, with his activity and work just like any other man. All was different in the case of the Logos. And this was “a man,” a human being like other men, not an angel from the other world. Yet he differed from the mass of otherwise notable men in that he was “sent from God.” The perfect participle ἀπεσταλμένος includes more than the past act of commissioning him for his special task, it covers also his standing during the entire course of that work. He was God’s message bearer or ambassador.

However lowly his person, his office is of the highest, with which also his name accords, “John,” “God’s favor.” The agent with a passive verb form may be expressed, as here, with παρά. The introduction of John’s name is idiomatic Greek: ὄνομααὑτῷἸωάνης, “name for him John.” We may regard “name” as a nominative absolute, and the statement regarding the name as parenthetical.

The Baptist is often treated as an Old Testament prophet who was merely standing on the threshold of the New; but he really belongs altogether in the New Testament, as our evangelist’s description shows, as well as that of the other Gospels, especially also Christ’s words concerning him.

John 1:7

7 The commission received by John is now described. This one came for witness, that he might witness concerning the light, in order that all might believe through him. Just as in v. 2, οὗτος reaches back and grasps all that v. 6 has said about John. The aorist ἦλθεν, while it is historical and reports the past fact, summarizes John’s entire career, which was “to come for witness.” It may sound Hebraic to spread out first in a phrase and then again in a clause this purpose for which John came, yet the effect is that the double mention of witnessing becomes markedly emphatic. That this is the evangelist’s purpose we see in v. 8, where this witness function is mentioned for the third time.

John uses μαρτυρία, μαρτύς, and μαρτυρεῖν in their native sense, “witness” that is competent, testimony at firsthand of what the person has seen or heard, known and experienced himself. “For witness,” without a modifier, stresses this idea. John’s office was to bear witness even as he himself describes it in language taken from Isaiah when he calls himself “a voice.” That was his function, to speak out as a voice, to speak “for witness.” We may construe the ἵνα clause in two ways, either as being dependent on the verb ῆ̓λθεν and parallel to the phrase “for witness,” merely repeating this in the longer form of a purpose clause; or as an appositional clause, dependent on the phrase, then it is subfinal, merely repeating the contents of the phrase. Perhaps the latter is the better. In either case the aorist verb is constative or complexive, uniting in one point all the witnessing that the Baptist did during his brief career. But now the object is added to the verb in the form of a phrase: the Baptist bore witness “concerning the light,” namely that light which appeared in the Logos of which the evangelist has informed us in v. 4, 5. While the word “light” is the evangelist’s own designation of the Logos, it, nevertheless, expresses exactly the contents of the Baptist’s testimony.

For we must not think that the Baptist knew nothing about the pre-existence of the Logos whom he saw in the person of Jesus. This is a rationalistic assumption, contradicted by the Baptist himself in v. 15 and v. 30. In connection with the latter passage the Baptist himself testifies how he was made sure on this point: it was by no natural means but by direct revelation from God who had sent the Baptist for the very purpose of testifying as he did. The Baptist even calls Jesus “the Son of God,” v. 33, 34. Both aorists, ῆ̓λθε̣ν and μαρτυρήσῃ, state that the Baptist actually executed his great commission.

All witness is intended for faith, and so the Baptist testified “in order that all might believe through him.” This comprehensive “all” includes all who went out in the wilderness and with their own ears heard the testimony. But it does not stop with these multitudes—“he being dead yet speaketh” (Heb. 11:4), and his testimony reaches out into the wide world. Just as no limitations restricted the Baptist’s saving purpose when his living voice rang out in the wilderness of Palestine, so no limitations now narrow it. That all may believe is the good and gracious will of God which is universal in extent, excluding not a single sinner; it is also called his antecedent will to distinguish it from the subsequent will which becomes effective when men finally reject the gospel and is summarized in Christ’s own words, “he that believeth not shall be damned.”

The evangelist does not write, “in order that all might see the light or know the light,” both of which would have been good. He at once employs the cardinal term “believe,” trust with the full confidence of the heart. The synonymous term “receive” occurs in v. 12. “Believe” goes beyond the figure of “light” to the reality meant by this figure, which is truth, i.e., the divine truth embodied in Jesus, the Logos, shining forth in his person, words, and works. This believing, when closely analyzed, includes knowledge, assent, and the confidence of the heart. It is never a blind trust; hence it is never, like ignorance, the opposite of science and knowledge, as so many who have no experience of saving faith suppose. While saving faith is also implicit and reaches out in trust beyond what we actually know and can know, it always does this only from the vantage ground of explicit faith, the sure ground of what we do and can know.

The aorist πιστεύσωσι is best regarded as ingressive, “in order that all might come to believe,” with the thought, of course, that once having arrived at faith, this faith will continue, even as in regeneration the life once kindled lives on and on. In this production of faith the Baptist is to be the human instrument as the phrase “through him” shows. This, of course, is because of his “witness,” the very nature of which is to awaken faith, even as all true testimony ought to be believed. Faith comes only through the preached Word, and God invariably honors the preachers who truly proclaim that Word. Those who leave the Word and cry, “Spirit, Spirit!” or who invent methods that discard the gospel can never hope to have it said of them that men came to faith “through them.”

John 1:8

8 The evangelist seems to have a special interest in defining the Baptist’s person, position, and work with great exactness. We feel this especially in v. 8, and again, even more strongly, in v. 19–28; 29–34; 3:26–36; and 5:33–36. We may hazard the guess that in the evangelist’s time some still thought too highly of the Baptist. Yet we find not the slightest derogation on the evangelist’s part. All that he reports concerning the Baptist agrees with his noble and humble character and with his exalted mission as the forerunner of Christ. He was not the light, but (came) that he might witness concerning the light.

So great was “the light” so great must it be to be “the light” indeed for all our fallen race, that no ἄνθρωπος, or any sin-born creature like ourselves, not even John, the greatest of prophets, or that other John, the foremost of evangelists, could be “the light.” All that these at most can do is to testify and “witness concerning the light,” and they need a special enabling even for that. Augustine writes that they are like trees and mountains upon which the sun shines, which reflect the light and show by their own brightness and beauty that a great and wonderful light, vaster and mightier than they, is shining above them. In this sense Christ himself calls the Baptist “a burning and shining light,” 5:35. The evangelist is careful to follow the negative statement concerning what John was not with the positive one concerning what he truly was, and he makes this a repetition of the clause used in 7, thus securing special emphasis.

John 1:9

9 After thus placing the great forerunner before us the evangelist again points to the Logos but now as incarnate and ushered in by this forerunner. The true light, which lighteth every man, was coming into the world. This marginal rendering of the R. V. is decidedly best. We are compelled to regard τὸφῶςτὸἀληθινόν as the subject of ῆ̓ν and not as the predicate. To supply the strong demonstrative “that” as the subject (A.

V.) is quite unjustifiable. This, too, is certain that ἐρχόμενον does not modify πὰνταἄνθρωπον, and that we dare not translate, “which lighteth every man that cometh into the world” (A. V.). The translation of the R. V. is rather unclear. It really makes little difference whether we regard ἦν … ἐρχόμενον as belonging together and forming a circumscribed imperfect (or a periphrastic future, erat venturum), or make the participle modify the subject τὸφῶς.

The grammars are reluctant to do the first; and it is true that John has no other example of a relative clause intervening between the two words of a circumscribed imperfect, he has only a few cases in which a few words intervene, 1:28; 3:23; 10:10 ἦν … βαπτίζων; 2:6 ἦσαν … καίμεναι̇ Yet whichever grammatical construction is preferred, it seems quite evident that ἐρχόμενον completes the idea of ῆ̓ν. For John is not merely once more saying (v. 4) that the light was in existence in the indefinite past but that this light was in the act of coming into the world.

Here John directly identifies “the light” with the Logos and thus advances beyond v. 4, where he writes only that the life of the Logos was the light of men. “Logos” and “light” are, indeed, close equivalents, for both terms contain the idea of revelation made unto us and intended to be received by us. But here John appends the adjective τὸφῶςτὸἀληθινόν, and by using the second article he adds as much weight to the adjective as to the noun, R. 776. The adjective ἀληθινόν means real, genuine, the reality corresponding to the idea, verus, and is thus distinguished from ἀληθής, true, mind and word, word and deed agreeing with each other, verax.

The relative clause, “which lighteth every man,” conveys more than an activity native to “the light”; it furnishes the evidence for this being “the genuine light.” “Every man” only individualizes the comprehensive plural used in v. 4: the light “of men”; and on the other hand it corresponds with the final phrase: coming “into the world.” This light is genuine because it is universal; every man, all men, the entire world of men, are wholly dependent on this one divine light. Hence also the verb φωτίζει is in the present tense, which corresponds with the tense of φαίνει in v. 5. As no restriction or limitation appears in the object “every man,” so also none appears in the tense of this verb. When John writes, “which lighteth every man,” he fears no misunderstanding on our part as though we might think that he means that every single human being is actually enlightened by the Logos, for both before and after making this statement he speaks of men rejecting this light and remaining in darkness. Luther has caught John’s meaning, “There is only one light that lighteth all men, and no man comes into the world who can possibly be illumined by any other light.” He also refers to Rom. 5:18: “‘As through one trespass the judgment came unto all men to condemnation, even so through one act of righteousness the free gift came unto all men unto justification of life.’ Although all men are not justified through Christ, he is, nevertheless, the only man through whom justification comes.” Augustine uses the illustration of one teacher in a city, who, then, is said to instruct all the city, meaning not that everyone actually goes to him to be instructed but that none are taught except by him.

Hebrew originals have been cited for regarding “coming into the world” in the sense of “being born” and thus as equivalent to “an inhabitant of the world.” But the New Testament never uses the expression in this sense. As far as men are concerned, they never were outside of the world and thus cannot come into the world by means of birth. As far as Christ is concerned, he was already born when the evangelist writes that he “was coming into the world.” This “coming” is the standard term for Christ’s mission in the world, for his appearance in his office as our Savior and Redeemer. The term ἐρχόμενος is almost technical in this sense. Israel constantly expected the Coming One; and in v. 11 John writes, “He came unto his own,” he appeared as the promised Messiah, manifesting himself as such by his word and his work, by his suffering, death, and resurrection. In v. 9, when the Baptist testified of him, he was on the point of thus coming and making himself manifest.

While he came unto his own, namely unto Israel, his coming was, nevertheless, as the Savior of the entire world. Thus also ἐρχόμενονεἰςτὸνκόσμον means, “in the act of coming into the world.” This, of course, involves the incarnation, yet John holds back the direct mention of this great act, saving it for emphatic mention in the final section of his prolog.

John 1:10

10 Verse 9 leaves us with the incarnate Logos about to enter upon his great mission when the Baptist testified of him. V. 10, 11 advance and speak of him as being fully manifest, with the tragic result that the world failed to recognize him, and that even his own refused to receive him. He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world knew him not. He came to his homeland, and his home people received him not. The two verses are parallels. The first verse needs three clauses, for the second clause must point out why the world should have known Christ—he was its Creator. The second verse needs only two clauses, for the reason why the Jews should have received Christ is self-evident.

In v. 9 John says of the incarnate Logos that he was in the act of coming into the world. When he now proceeds and says, “In the world he was,” the evangelist includes the entire presence of the incarnate Logos in the world. For ῆ̓ν, as distinct from the punctiliar ἦλθε in v. 11, is durative; it spreads out the entire presence of Christ before our eyes. “The world,” already in v. 9 and now three times in v. 10, means the world of men, for only for the world in this sense is The Coming One life, light, and salvation. We must not bring in the other creatures, nor dare we go back to the presence of the Logos before his incarnation. “The world” also includes the Jews, although the two are differentiated in v. 10 and 11 but only as a wider circle embraces one that is narrower.

“The world.” should certainly have recognized the incarnate Logos when he appeared in its midst, for “the world was made by him,” more literally, “came into existence through him,” as v. 3 has already told us regarding the entire universe, πάντα and οὑδὲἕν. This, of course, includes also the Jews. Brute creatures might not recognize their incarnate Creator, but the world of intelligent men should certainly have recognized, worshipped, and adored him. And yet the tragic fact must be set down, “The world knew him not.” The constative aorist οὑκἔγνω records the summary fact. We cannot see why R. 834 makes this aorist ingressive. The three clauses are simply placed side by side and are connected only with two καί, much like v. 1.

Their relation to each other is left to the reader—each clause with its deep meaning being allowed to speak for itself. No effort is made to explain the tragic result. The fact is that no real explanation is possible; for the rejection of its Creator by the world is an unreasonable act, and no reasonable explanation can be offered for an act, the very essence of which is unreason. It is not an explanation to point out that “the world” means men dead and blind in sin; for the incarnate Logos bears the gratia sufficiens which is fully sufficient and able by means of the life and light of the Logos to overcome this death and blindness; yet when this gratia is applied, men not only reject it but are left far worse than before. Here lies the problem that remains unsolved.

John 1:11

11 When speaking of “the world” and considering the Logos its Creator, this is tragic enough. But within this greater tragic circle lies a lesser one in which the tragedy is much greater. “To his homeland came” the incarnate Logos, “and his home people received him not.” Just as in v. 10 the phrase “in the world” is placed forward for emphasis, so in v. 11 the corresponding phrase “to his homeland.” The neuter plural τὰἴδια and the masculine plural οἱἴδιοι form a play on words in which only the gender marks a difference. The words are strongly reflexive, R. 691, and denote what belongs to a person in distinction from other persons; what is his very own in distinction from what belongs to others. Thus the neuter plural often has the meaning of one’s own home, and the masculine, in contrast with this neuter, one’s own relatives. This established usage bars out the idea that these terms are only synonyms, parallels to “the world” in v. 10, and that v. 11 is only a synonymous duplicate of v. 10. Moreover, “the world” is never viewed as “the homeland” or “the home people” of Christ; quite the contrary, the term “world” always has a hostile connotation.

Israel alone is “the homeland” and “the home people” of Christ. Not, however, because he was born man in Palestine, for he was born here because this was his home. Israel was God’s “peculiar people,” Deut. 26:18; “a special people unto himself, above all people that are upon the face of the earth,” Deut. 7:6; compare 1 Pet. 2:9. Thus Israel belonged to him who was before Abraham, who was God and was with God before Israel began; Israel’s Temple was his Father’s house, and the people of Israel his blood kin. During an era of more than a thousand years this chosen people had been under preparation for his coming and had been kept in expectation of that event. Therefore, too, John writes ἦ́, he “came” to his own, using the significant verb which is connected so completely with the covenant promises of the Messiah.

If anywhere in the world, the incarnate Logos, when he now revealed himself and thus came to his own homeland, should have been received by his home people. They should have embraced him with open arms and hearts, and the only danger should have been that they might jealously claim him as being exclusively their own, whom they would not share with any other nation. The very opposite occurred, “and his home people received him not.” Here, as in v. 10, John writes αὑτόν, “him,” although the antecedent of both pronouns is the neuter τὸφῶς, “the light.” These pronouns cannot be explained as presupposing the masculine antecedent ὁλόγος, for this lies entirely too far back. The probable explanation is that with these pronouns John turns from the figure of the light to the reality of this figure, namely the person of Christ. That, too, is why John says in the second clause of v. 10 that the world was made διʼ αὑτοῦ, “through him.” All this is the strongest proof for the identity of the Logos, who also is called Life and Light, with the man Jesus Christ. Aside from its direct enunciation the incarnation can receive no more effective presentation.

Both expressions, the world “knew him not,” and his own “received him not,” two cases of litotes, negatives where positives are meant, are decidedly mild. “Not to know,” in the pregnant sense here used, means to disown utterly, as in Matt. 7:23. The verb “know,” which is here negatived, is noscere cum affectu et effectu, to know, recognize, and thus acknowledge and accept as one’s own, John 10:14. What this form of disowning means is explained by Jesus himself in John 15:19–25, where he tells his disciples that the world will treat them as it treats him with hate and with persecution. The verb used for the treatment bestowed on Christ by “his own people” is of a different type though to the same effect: they “received him not,” οὑπαρέλαβον. As compared with δέχεσθαι, which is often used regarding the welcome reception of a guest, John 4:45; Matt. 10:41, etc., παραλαμβάνειν, both with a personal and with an impersonal object, is used regarding a reception that includes full appropriation, a reception which intends permanent possession and communion. This, of course, is the reception Jesus sought when he came to his own, and this his own people denied him.

They threw him out, turned him over to the Gentiles, had him made away with by a death of deepest disgrace. Note the strong contrast: he came, indeed, to his own; his own did not receive him. The verbs match, but the negative makes them clash. The aorist indicates the historical fact. The simplicity of expression is perfect, but it surely makes the tragedy thus expressed stand out only the more. “Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth: for the Lord hath spoken: I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against me. The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master’s crib: but Israel doth not know, my people doth not consider.

Ah, sinful nation, a people laden with iniquity, a seed of evildoers, children that are corrupters: they have forsaken the Lord, they have provoked the Holy One of Israel unto anger, they are gone away backward,” Isa. 1:2–4. In vain did the Baptist call for repentance in order to prepare a true reception. When Jesus “came,” they “received him not.”

John 1:12

12 When John writes of the world and of the Jews he allows them to take up the entire picture. It seems that he is not willing to make a coordination between these two on the one hand and the believers on the other hand. He paints the tragedy in one picture and then sets this away; then he takes another canvas and paints the salvation. But as many as accepted him, to them he gave the right to become God’s children, to those who believe in his name. Here is the first instance of an adversative connection, namely the adversative δέ The word ὅσοι, “as many as,” “those who,” does not indicate whether there were many or only a few. Far more important is the observation that ὅσοι denotes individuals, namely each and every believer omitting none.

The word thus differs markedly from “the world” and from οἱἴδιοι, “his own people,” both of which denote a body. The world as a body and the Jews as a nation rejected Christ, only individuals as individuals accepted him. But this means that “as many as” cannot be restricted to individual Jews. Since the rejection is attributed to two bodies, the lesser of which is included in the greater, the acceptance, now placed in contrast with that rejection, cannot be restricted only to individuals in the lesser body. “As many as” means both individual Jews and individual Gentiles. Moreover, while John plainly refers to the time when the Logos “came” and manifested himself, he sets no limit in the other direction. “As many as,” therefore, includes all those who accepted Jesus as the Logos since he came and manifested himself, all believers up to the time when John wrote these words and by inference all believers also after he wrote.

Still more lies in ὅσοι. First of all, that accepting Christ is an individual and not a corporate matter. Does it sound lamentable, that only single persons as individuals accept the Savior instead of an entire nation or the wide world as a whole? In reality this individual acceptance denotes universalism, “that whosoever believeth on him should not perish but have eternal life,”—whosoever, Jew or Gentile, no matter of what nation or social and educational standing. Thus “as many as” opens the door to all men in the world. Moreover, this type of universalism comports with the very nature of true acceptance.

Too often corporate acceptance is only formal. In a large body many do not assent, many others only assent, and so genuine acceptance is, after all, heavily restricted in the case of corporate acceptance. As far as the Logos is concerned, nothing whatever is lost by “as many as.” We may call these the exceptions as compared with the rule indicated in v. 11. But this expresses only a superficial view. Exceptions are abnormal; they ought really not to occur. In the case of the Logos all the Jews and all the world ought to believe on him.

By rejecting him these act abnormally and thus in spite of their number constitute the exception, while “as many as” act normally and thus accord with the rule.

In substance the three verbs “to know” (ἔγνω), “to receive” (παρέλαβον), and “to accept or take” (ἔλαβον) the Logos necessarily must amount to the same thing, namely to embrace by faith. It is quite evident that the simple λαμβάνειν cannot include less than the compound παραλαμβάνειν, for less was not rendered by those who became God’s children than was expected of the Jews. The idea that the compound verb means “to receive officially” as a King and thus solemnly to conduct into the Temple, reads too much into the verb as contrasted with the simple verb. Nor does ἔλαβον need a complement in the shape of a participle to complete its meaning, for it is sufficient to say they “accepted,” they “took” Christ, i.e., “took” him as what he was and as what he offered himself. The only difference between the compound and the simple forms of the verb is that in the former the preposition expresses the purpose of full appropriation while the latter takes this for granted. “As many as accepted him” is placed forward as the antecedent of αὑτοῖς, “to them,” making this clause stand out in full contrast to “the world” and “his own people” (the Jews as a nation) more than would be the case if a relative clause had been used, “To them, who accepted him, he gave,” etc.

All those who rejected the Logos received nothing; they remained what they were, destitute, blind, and spiritually dead, a condition that was the more tragic since it might have been changed into the blessed opposite. But to those who accepted the Logos “he gave the right to become God’s children.” This is what the others missed and lost wholly through their own fault. John does not write: τέκναΘεοῦἐγένοντο or γεγόνασιν, “they became, or they have become, God’s children.” This would be perfectly true. The objection does not hold that John would thereby say that these persons became God’s children by their own ability. As little as ἐγένετο in v. 3 has a trace of synergism, so little would ἐγένοντο have such a trace of it in the present connection. And yet John writes, “he gave to them the right,” etc., placing ἔδωκεν forward for emphasis.

Every time when life, pardon, or salvation are involved, the verb “give” brings out strongly the note of unmerited grace. The implied note of contrast is not that of synergism, as though any man might become a child of God by effort of his own or by on his part adding something toward this end. The contrast is far more obvious: the Jews, Christ’s own home people, imagined they were and could be God’s children without the Logos or Christ. Jesus himself had an argument with them on this very subject, John 8:42–47. They had no use for Christ because they dreamed that they could be God’s children without him. That thought is what John cuts off so early in his Gospel by the wording: the Logos “gave” this right of childhood to those who received him.

The two aorists ἔλαβον and ἔδωκεν occur simultaneously. The instant of accepting Christ is the instant of receiving the gift of childhood. To receive Christ is to receive life, light, and salvation.

The gift is here called “right to become God’s children.” Yet the infinitive γενέσθαι is an aorist and thus punctiliar and hence cannot mean that at some later time these persons would develop into God’s children. This aorist infinitive expresses action that is simultaneous with that of the two preceding finite aorists ἔλαβον and ἔδωκεν—in other words, the moment of accepting Christ, which is the moment of receiving his gift, that, too, is the moment of becoming God’s children, i.e., the moment of regeneration. This is called “the right,” ἐξουσία (without the article, thus stressing the quality of the noun), which here means more than “possibility” and not quite as much as “power.” The infinitive, “right to become,” is construed as a dative, R. 1076, and is the complement of the noun. Christ’s gift to those who receive him is a new relation to God, they are made God’s children. Their “right” is to be such children. For this relation to God John always employs τέκναΘεοῦ and never υἱοὶΘεοῦ, for he always views it as the product of regeneration (τέκνα from τίκτειν).

The difference between “child” and “son” is quite marked. A son may become such by adoption, so that the word for “adoption” is υἱοθεσία, i.e., placing one in the position of a son. Christ, too, is never called “the Child of God,” which would leave a wrong impression, but always “the Son of God.” Cremer, Bibl.-theol. Woerterbuch der Neutestamentlichen Graezitaet, 10th ed. by Julius Koegel, 1073 (future references indicated by C.-K.) specifies the difference: τέκνον as expressing relation or derivation from; υἱός as expressing relation to. A study of the words reveals various types of interesting usage. “Children,” for instance, has the note of endearment, while “sons” often has the note of legal standing: if a son, then an heir, Gal. 4:7. Thus “son” and “slave” are in contrast, and “child” and “slave” are not placed in opposition.

As regards our relation to God, the Scriptures have no sweeter name than this that we are “God’s children” and belong to his household, Eph. 2:19.

The dative τοῖςπιστεύουσινεἰςτὸὄνομααὑτοῦ is an apposition to αὑτοῖς. This, however, is not intended to point out the condition for receiving the right of childhood. The fact that receiving Christ means receiving him by faith is clear from v. 7. If, nevertheless, this thought is to be repeated, the participle would have to be an aorist and without the article. For the moment one comes to faith he becomes a child of God. The articulated present participle is like a clause, descriptive of those to whom the right of childhood has been given.

Its force is well rendered by Zahn, “and these are they who believe on his name,” i.e., who as God’s children continue thus believing. Whenever ὄνομα, “name,” is used in connections like this, “name” always means the complete self-revelation of Christ in his redemptive grace. At times one or the other feature of that revelation is indicated by the context. Whether we read: “believe in him” (Christ), or: “believe in his name,” makes no difference, for we know “him” only by means of his “name,” i.e., his saving selfrevelation. As far as the names of Christ are concerned, the special terms by which we designate his person, these are only concentrated and thus especially valuable portions of his self-revelation. Their value consists only in their rich content which reveals to us Christ’s person and his work.

Thus “they that believe in his name” are they whose heart’s trust and confidence extends (εἰς) to the blessed revelation they have received from him. Various prepositions are used with πιστεύειν; when εἰς is employed, this points out the direction or the relation of the confidence. The idea that “to believe on the name” indicates that a certain “name” of Christ is confessed by the believer, rests on a misunderstanding. While true faith always confesses, the phrase “on the name” in no way refers to this fact.

John 1:13

13 Does verse thirteen speak of “God’s children” and describe their spiritual birth, or does this verse speak of the human birth of the Logos, his birth from the Virgin Mary? The question is one of the text and also one of the thought. Usually the question is not raised at all, because the accepted reading of the text seems to raise no question. The incongruities, not to say impossibilities, that result are taken as a matter of course and are smoothed out in the best way possible. The best feature about the usual reading is that it does not clash with the analogy of faith, and thus in preaching on this verse no doctrinal difficulty is encountered. Which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God, is treated as a relative clause attached to v. 12, describing the birth of God’s children as not being due to natural generation but to a generation that has its source in God, ἐκΘεοῦ.

The accepted reading makes v. 13 the conclusion of the second paragraph of the prolog and v. 14 the beginning of the final paragraph. Whether the division for the paragraphs is made in this way or not (some divide differently), one thing is certain: καί at the head of v. 14, once we give it adequate thought, is wholly without justification. John has used this connective nine times in the preceding account, always in order to connect facts closely related to each other. Even when these facts were opposites they could be properly combined as such. Every time a new group of facts was introduced John did this without a connective, thus indicating that he was passing on to something new. Yet here in v. 14 all this would be upset.

An entirely new paragraph would begin with καί. Or, to say the least, two facts wholly unrelated, strangely diverse as to time, would be linked together with “and,” namely the incarnation of the Logos (v. 14) and the spiritual birth of God’s children (v. 13). The latter refers to the mass of believers living at the time John wrote, the former to the time when the Logos became flesh. The two are so diverse, even as to time, that no writer, least of all John, would connect the two with “and.” Regeneration and the incarnation are not even opposites, nor does John intimate any other relation between the two. This “and” should thus cause us to pause.

The second point that should make us pause and question is that with three different statements and thus with exceeding emphasis John should deny that the spiritual regeneration of God’s children is not a physical operation. Evidently, this heavy denial indicates that a wrong view is being contradicted and a right view put in its place. But who in all the church supposed that regeneration was a physical act? Even Nicodemus, whose ignorance regarding regeneration Jesus rebuked, was entirely sure that a man could not be reborn by again entering the womb of a human mother, by a birth that would be physical. And then, strange to say, after this denial of regeneration as a physical birth John would add with “and” that the Logos was born physically in a miraculous manner! How can such things be?

In the third place, assuming that John felt v. 12 to be incomplete (though it is certainly complete as it stands), he could have added what he might have desired in the simplest fashion. Here is one way, “But as many as accepted him, to them he gave the right to become God’s children, and they were born of God,” etc. Again, extending the participial apposition at the end of v. 12, “to them who are believers on his name and have been born of God” (the perfect participle in the Greek). Or, if an inner causal relation should be John’s intention, revealing that regeneration produces the τέκναΘεοῦ, all would be clear if a relative clause with οἵτινες would have been added, “to them who are believers on his name, such as have been born of God.” Yet in no case could the three negative phrases, denying that regeneration is a physical act, be inserted in an addition to v. 12, for this strong denial would necessarily imply that this preposterous notion had advocates among the Christians of John’s time.

If we had only the accepted text, we should be left solely to conjecture, and this at best is like a guess in the dark. It is usually useless even to consider conjectures. The older reading, which removes all the difficulties indicated and others that might yet be added, has long been known. This original reading has no relative pronoun (either plural or singular) at the head of v. 13, and the final verb is singular: οὑκἐξαἱμάτων … ἐγεννήθη. V. 13 speaks not of believers but of the Logos and of his human birth. V. 13 begins the new paragraph, the climax of the prolog.

John describes the incarnation not merely in one brief statement, “The Word was made flesh,” but in two statements, the first of which is decidedly longer than the second, and thus the most natural thing in the world is for John to link the two with καί. We translate: Not of blood, nor of the will of flesh, nor of the will of a man, but of God was he born. And the Word became flesh, etc. The credit for first drawing attention to this reading belongs to Fr. Blass, whom Theodor Zahn followed in his various most valuable publications. We cannot enter into all the details of the ancient documentary evidence, which really belongs into works on textual criticism.

We content ourselves with the following summary as being sufficient for our purpose.

The original reading appears in Tertullian, Irenaeus, and others. The gnostic Valentinians, about the year 140, changed the original singular ἐγεννήθη (without ὅ) into the plural ἐγεννήθησαν (without οἵ) in the interest of their peculiar doctrine They desired to use this passage as a description of the peculiar class of spiritual people provided for in their heretical system. In this way the verb in v. 13 became plural. The Occidentals held to the singular until the third, or possibly the fourth, century. The Alexandrians were more ready to adopt the plural and had done so by the end of the second century, but as yet without the relative οἵ. This came to be inserted in order to connect v. 13 with the believers mentioned in v. 12 and thus to shut out the Valentinian use of v. 13.

This relative pronoun then found acceptance also in the Occident. For the Latins the matter of the pronoun was easier as the Latin qui could be used for ὅς as well as for οἵ; it was far more difficult for the Syrians, whose text had the singular verb and yet added the plural pronoun as its subject. The entire question of determining the original reading of v. 13 thus is entirely different from the usual method of comparing the readings of the codices in order to accept that reading only which the best and the weightiest codices support. This may explain why the common reading has not been challenged more resolutely by critical commentators and text critics.

The subject of v. 13 is the Logos, who constitutes the beginning, middle, and end of the entire prolog and thus needs no formal mention as John proceeds to describe his human birth. This birth was οὑκἐξαἱμάτων “not due to bloods,” i.e., the mixture of blood from two human parents as in cases of ordinary human procreation. “Blood” is the material substance from which the human organism is formed. The plural “bloods” is the more necessary in the Greek, since the singular might be misunderstand. For the human organism of the Logos actually began with a bit of blood in the womb of the Virgin Mary; it was thus that she “conceived in the womb,” Luke 1:31. The explanation of the plural from the analogy of other Greek expressions must be dropped. Blood that is shed in drops or in streams, animals that are sacrificed, wounds and the slain in battle, murderous acts and the like, justify the use of the plural in the Greek but are no analogy for the generation of a human being. Where a real analogy occurs, as in the reading of some texts in Acts 17:26, the singular is used in the Greek, “hath made of one blood.” When the Logos became man, this was not due to, did not start with (ἐκ), the blood from two parents.

From the act of procreation in which the blood of man and woman join so that the blood of both flows in the child’s veins, John advances to the impulse of nature which lies back of this sexual union, “nor of the will of the flesh.” The term “flesh” denotes our bodily nature as God made it, male and female, adding the blessing, “Be fruitful and multiply, and replenish the earth.” “The will of the flesh” is thus the natural urge and volition implanted in our bodily nature to beget and to rear offspring. Like “bloods” this “will of the flesh” includes both man and woman. It is true that our blood as well as our flesh and the will of our flesh are now corrupt because of sin and death, yet this corruption is not stressed. The human birth of the Logos is not due to our nature either as it now is or as it once was. The will to beget children, implanted in man by God, had nothing to do with the incarnation. A far higher, an entirely different will, brought that about.

Yet the decisive will in the act of procreation is that of the man not that of the woman, hence John adds, “nor of the will of man,” using ἀνήρ in distinction from γυνή and thus not to be identified with ἄνθρωπος, the generic term for man as a human being including both male and female. The three phrases used by John in stating how the birth of the Logos as man was not brought about are not coordinate, merely placed side by side; nor should we subordinate the second two phrases and regard them as merely defining more closely the first phrase. These phrases are like a pyramid, one placed on top of the other. They are like three circles, the second being narrower than the first, the third narrower than the second. Thus the first phrase includes the other two, and the second includes the third. Beyond the final, most precise specification John cannot go and need not go in his negations.

The Logos was born entirely without a human father. In his conception no male parent was active. The detailed history of this conception and birth John’s readers know from the records of Matthew and of Luke, which John also takes for granted. Neither v. 13 nor v. 14 can be properly understood without the other two Gospels. What John here does is to restate with exact precision the vital facts contained in the full historical records of the other Gospels.

Even those who have been content with the reading of the current text, which makes v. 13 a description of our own spiritual birth, have felt that John here has in mind the other Gospel records which recount the miraculous conception and birth of Jesus. They assume that John here uses the manner of Jesus’ conception and birth as a kind of type illustrating our spiritual birth as also being miraculous in a somewhat analogous manner. In a way they thus sensed what the true reading of v. 13 contains. Yet John’s words offer not the least indication that he is speaking typically, comparing our spiritual birth to the physical birth of Jesus. In fact, the very idea of such a type and comparison is highly questionable. The miracle of the incarnation is too lofty to be used for the regeneration of the multitude of God’s children.

The type is always less than the antitype and necessarily must be, otherwise the antitype would be the type, and the type the antitype. When soberly examined, this threefold denial of a generation by blood, by the will of the flesh, and by the will of a man, sounds trivial when applied to our regeneration, regarding which it is self-evident that this is altogether only spiritual; while, when this denial is applied to the incarnation, it constitutes a most vital confession—one necessary for all ages of the church and most necessary for our own day.

The preposition ἐκ denotes source or origin, and John uses it three times in his denials as to how the birth of the Logos was not effected, and then once more with the positive phrase which states how this birth was, indeed, effected, “on the contrary, of God was he born.” The incarnation of the Logos, we may thus say, was due exclusively to God. It arose from God alone as the source. John adds no other term such as “of the will of God,” for this might lead to the thought that God only willed the incarnation and then used some means or other for carrying his volition into effect. All such intermediate means are excluded by the three negative phrases, which leave as their one opposite only “God.” In other words, the incarnation was effected without means by the direct agency of God alone.

The verb γεννᾶν means “to beget” when used with reference to the father; also “to give birth,” “bring forth” when used with reference to the mother or to both parents. The fact that John is writing of the incarnation and not of the eternal generation of the Logos is made entirely certain by the preceding negative phrases, which modify the verb, just as the final positive phrase does. The tense of ἐγεννήθη is the historical aorist, and the passive accords with ἐκΘεοῦ, not, indeed, as the usual agent with the passive, which would be ὑπό or ἀπό, but deeper than this, as the source or origin. We might translate, “was begotten,” though in doing so we would have to ward off the thought that God was in some way a substitute for the human father in the begetting of the Logos. It is better to translate, “was born,” using the verb in the wider sense as including all that lies in the term “incarnation.” Perhaps we may derive a little help from the figurative use of the verb. The idea of sex and of the function of sex disappears entirely when God is called the Father of his people, or when one human person becomes a spiritual father to another.

Fatherhood and motherhood intermingle in this form of thought. So the Logos “was born” of man by a birth due to the miraculous intervention of God wholly apart from any paternal sex function.

John 1:14

14 With the closing words of v. 13, “of God was he born,” the connective “and” accords perfectly: And the Word became flesh and tented among us and we beheld his glory as of the Only-begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth. What lies in ἐγεννήθη is brought out by σὰρξἐγένετο by his “birth” the Logos “became flesh.” While this may well be called the climax of the entire prolog, the fact should not be overlooked that what is now recorded as the climax already lies in all that John writes from v. 4 onward. The Logos could not have been the life and the light of men from the beginning if in the fulness of time he had not been “born of God” and “become flesh.”

Now that the climacteric statement is made, the subject is once more named: ὁλόγος; but this name is now illumined by all that John has said of him thus far, and, in turn, what he now writes lights up and makes clearer all that he has said of him thus far. We understand the way to the goal the better after having reached the goal. And this, indeed, is the goal, for it transcends the previous statements about the shining of the light and the coming into the world (speaking of it only as a coming). Here is the INCARNATION in so many words: the Word, who was in the beginning, the life and the true light from eternity, this Word “became flesh.” The aorist states the historical fact. In an interesting comparison of several aorists in the prolog R. 829 calls this aorist ingressive, because it “accents the entrance of the Logos upon his life on earth.” We should rather say that this aorist marks the momentary act which made the Logos flesh, to remain flesh in the sense of man forever after. From the start the thought must be rejected that ἐγένετο here means a transformation of the Logos into flesh.

The Word did not cease to be what it was before; but it became what it was not before—flesh. “Without controversy great is the mystery of godliness: God was manifested in the flesh,” 1 Tim. 3:16. The identity of the subject remains. The Word became flesh and remains in every sense the Word though now made flesh. This Word, being God, could not possibly change into something else, for then God would cease to be God.

The mystery of how the Logos, the Creator, (v. 3) could assume our created nature will forever challenge our finite comprehension. The tremendous fact itself is beyond question, and for us that is enough. Thus we have only one care, that when we ourselves restate what John records we may in no way deviate from the fact. It will not do, for instance, to compare ἐγένετο as here used with γεγενημένον in 2:9, “the water that has become wine.” Of the two, the water and the wine, the water had ceased to be; but the Word did not cease to be—he was not turned into flesh. We need a caution here in regard to all the uses of γίνομαι in ordinary speech, for in all the universe no analogy occurs for the incarnation. Hence we can find no analogous uses of the verb.

Such uses as those in 2:9; Matt. 4:3; Rom. 2:25; 1 Cor. 3:18; John 9:39; 16:30, are of a totally different type. The uses in John 5:6; 5:9; 5:14; 8:33; 12:36; 1 Cor. 13:11; Luke 23:12, also cannot be compared with our passage. The incarnation is absolutely unique—nothing even faintly like it has ever been known. The only being with two natures is the Son of God.

Thus we decline to say “that the divine subject entered into the human mode of being at the cost of renouncing his divine mode of being”; or that “he exchanged the divine state for the human”; or that “the purely spiritual existence, independent of bodily material, … was exchanged for the existence of a bodily living man.” For one thing, such expressions confuse the incarnation with the humiliation, whereas these two are entirely distinct, and John’s ἐγένετο predicates only the former. In heaven the Logos still has his flesh but at the cost of nothing, nor by any exchange, nor with any dependence. Stressing the “bodily material” and “a bodily living man” as decisive for the incarnation is especially unfortunate. R. 394 calls ἐγένετο in our passage a copula, which is far nearer the truth, for all that this verb does is to predicate what the term “flesh” contains in the moment of the Incarnation of the Logos. Note the careful way in which the church has worded this miracle of the ages in the Nicene Creed: “who for us men, and for our salvation, came down from heaven, and was incarnate by the Holy Ghost of the Virgin Mary, and was made man.” Likewise the Creed of Athanasius against the Arians: “God of the Substance of the Father, begotten before the worlds; and Man of the substance of his mother, born in the world; Perfect God and perfect Man, of a reasonable soul and human flesh subsisting. Equal to the Father as touching his Godhead, and inferior to the Father as touching his manhood; Who, although he be God and Man, yet he is not two, but one Christ; One, not by conversion of the Godhead into flesh, but by taking of the manhood into God; One altogether; not by confusion of Substance, but by unity of Person.

For as the reasonable soul and flesh is one man, so God and Man is one Christ.” Concordia Triglotta, 32 and 35. For precision and exactness these confessional statements have never been excelled.

“By flesh we understand the whole man, body and soul, according to the Scriptures which call man flesh.” Luther, who adds, “This lofty humility, which no tongue is able to express, the evangelist wanted to indicate by the little word flesh.” Christ’s flesh was real flesh, born of the Virgin Mary, not a mere appearance of flesh (Docetism). But while the Word became flesh, he did not become sinful flesh; for the word flesh itself, as describing our nature, does not include sin. When we are raised from the dead, no sin will be found in our flesh. Sometimes “flesh” is identified with “body,” whereas “flesh” = body, soul, and spirit. Mary gave birth to a living son, whose soul afterward became sorrowful unto death, who groaned in the spirit and in death gave up the spirit (παρέδωκετὸπνεῦμα, John 19:30; ἐξέπνευσεν, Luke 23:46), commending his spirit into his Father’s hands. The manhood of Christ was thus perfect in every respect.

On the one hand, nothing dare be subtracted from “flesh,” the human nature, the perfect humanity; on the other hand, nothing dare be subtracted from the Word, the divine nature, the perfect divinity. These two, each being perfect, combine in the one Person. This person is the eternal, uncreated Logos (v. 1, 2), who in his divine nature was with God in eternity and was God. This person assumed “flesh,” a human spirit, soul, and body; he did not join himself to some human being. The ego in the God-man is the ego of the Logos. This divine ego took the place occupied in all other men by a human ego.

Hence the incarnate Son is able to declare that he and the Father are one. The human nature of the Logos is thus ἀνυπόστατος, without a human ego, and yet ἐνυπόστατος by possessing the divine ego, hence not imperfect but the more perfect. Whoever met Christ met God’s Son not the person of some man. In him were not two egos, nor was there in him a double or a composite ego. The path between Nestorianism and Eutychianism is narrow but perfectly straight if only we follow John and stop rationalizing and speculating, which always end by losing either the Logos or the flesh. The marvel remains that this great mystery should be expressed by the evangelist in such few and simple words, a mystery on which the greatest minds have spent their most intense efforts.

Here Inspiration again becomes so tangible that one wonders why all eyes do not recognize its presence. No uninspired pen could ever have set down the words, “And the Word became flesh.”

The first effect of the incarnation is added by a simple “and” in John’s fashion, “and tented among us,” ἐσκήνωσεν. This recalls the Tabernacle of Israel in which God tented and dwelt among his people. The pillar of cloud and of fire filled and covered the Tabernacle, making visible the glorious presence of God, Exod. 40:34–38. Compare the final dwelling of God with his people in Rev. 21:3. This is the imagery back of John’s figurative verb “he tented among us.” The flesh of the Logos is the true Temple of God (2:21), the tent in which he dwelt; the Logos fills this flesh with his presence even as the Tabernacle was filled with the Shekinah of Jehovah. Yet the verb “tented,” as well as its historical aorist tense, indicate a temporary sojourn.

The Logos remained ἐνἡμῖν only until his redemptive work was finished, then not to discard the tent of his flesh but to transfer his human nature into the Holy of Holies above by the miracle of his glorification and ascension. John writes “among us” without further specification since his readers know whom he means. Comparing v. 16 “we all” and 1 John 1:1, etc., this pronoun “we” signifies only the chosen ones who were called to be Christ’s special witnesses in the time to come. Some wish to extend this pronoun to include all those who beheld Christ with the eyes of faith while he walked on earth. The fact of their so beholding him is true enough and may pass as such. But John is writing to a different generation which he addresses as ὑμεῖς, “you” in 19:35, whom also he places in clear contrast with “we” and “our” in the opening of his First Epistle.

These notable persons who “declare” what they have seen, heard, and handled are Christ’s chosen witnesses only. We should, however, not fail to note that this important “we” includes the Apostle John himself who thus also attests himself as the writer of this Gospel.

The second effect of the incarnation is added with another “and,” “and we beheld his glory,” but “we” is now in the inflectional ending of the verb. Here again the historical aorist, like the one preceding, reports what once took place and could never be repeated. R. 834 makes this aorist “effective” as marking the end of an action, as stating that finally this vision of Christ’s glory was achieved. We decidedly prefer to regard this as a “constative” aorist, one which summarizes an entire course of action. For John himself reports that all along the Apostles beheld and were attracted by the glory of the God-man, beginning notably with the first miracle, 2:11, where also τὴνδόξαναὑτοῦ recurs.

John refers to “the glory” of the Logos. This term δόξα is constantly used either to designate all the attributes of the Godhead as they shine forth in one or in another way before the eyes of men, or to indicate the manifestation of any one or of several of these attributes. Thus “his glory” may designate the radiance of the infinite love that dwelt in Christ, breaking forth again and again in word and in deed; the heavenliness of his grace, or his mercy, or his compassion; the divine depth and comprehension of his wisdom and knowledge, against which also all human cunning failed; the absoluteness of his power in all the miracles that spoke so plainly of his divinity. Any one or more of these manifestations constitute “the glory” which John and the other witnesses beheld. The verb itself, θεάομαι, is weighty and much more expressive than ὁράω, “to see.” The eye and the mind rest upon the object, penetrate and absorb it; and since the verb fits only great and notable objects, it generally has the connotation of wonder and admiration. Thus John writes, “We beheld, we actually viewed, his glory.” It is quite in vain to make “we beheld” mean only a beholding with the eyes of the mind, an inner experience of the soul. For that might be experienced by one who was not an eyewitness.

John repeats δόξαν, investing it with emphasis, as if he would say, “glory indeed,” “glory most wonderful.” And now he describes this glory, “as of the Only-begotten from the Father.” The rendering in the margin of the R. V. is highly unfortunate, “as of an only-begotten from a father.” These translators certainly knew that the absence of the article with nouns like μονογενής and πατήρ does not render them indefinite: an only-begotten—a father. Nouns designating persons or objects only one of which exists need no article; the English idiom requires the article. We simply must translate: the Only-begotten—the Father. Moreover, in the Greek anarthrous nouns are qualitative, R. 794; by omitting the article we are asked to fix our attention on just what the noun conveys. The sense of the margin of the R.

V. is equally unfortunate. It assumes that every only-begotten son has a special glory and then informs us that God’s Only-begotten Son also has such a glory. But how about the only son of a slave, or of a beggar, or of a criminal? Even if the father is a notable person and the only son a credit to his father, who would call the fact that he has no brothers “his glory”? And if such a predication should be made, who would ever think of using this human feature as illustrating the glory of God’s only Son?

The term μονογενής = “Only-begotten,” the Greek adjective here being used as a noun. We fail to see how the connection makes it self-evident that we supply υἱός, for “Son” has not occurred in the previous verses. Nor are we ready to reduce this weighty term to mean no more than “only child” as when it is used with reference to human parents who either have had but one child or have only one left after the rest have died. The term rises above all such conceptions when we note the combination, “glory as of the Only-begotten.” This “as” is not the common “like” of ordinary comparisons between two—for who would be the other? This “as” matches the reality with the idea and thus proves and establishes. What John saw of the glory of the Only-begotten corresponded with all that he could possibly conceive as belonging to this being.

He also had the Old Testament to lift his expectations exceedingly high. The glory he actually beheld never fell short of the rightful expectation thus formed, in fact, exceeded it in every way. We may add that μονογενής is also far more than ἀγαπητός, “beloved,” which the LXX used as a translation for jachid (single one, only one) in Gen. 22:2; Jer. 6:26; etc. To be sure, the Only-begotten was the Beloved of the Father, but the effort to make these two terms either identical or synonymous when they are predicated of the Logos is misdirected. The one denotes being as such, the other, ethical relation and attitude.

John alone uses μονογενής, which he coined like ὁλόγος, to express what in many statements Jesus said of his relation to the Father. All but a few of the interpreters of the last generation have taken “Only-begotten” in the metaphysical sense and have understood it as referring to the relation of the Logos to the Father apart from the incarnation. In other words, μονογενής and ὁλόγος extend back into all eternity and belong to the Son ἄσαρκος (unincarnate) as well as to the Son ἔνσαρκος (incarnate). The very nature of the title “Only-begotten” involves the relation of “Father” and of “Son,” which is usually called the aeterna filii Dei generatio. No attempt is made to penetrate the mystery of this relation, i.e., to unveil what lies in this generatio. But this, indeed, is held as surely being revealed to us, that the First Person of the Godhead is the Father, that the Second Person is the Son, and that their relation is that the one begot and the other is begotten.

Some, meaning well enough, have called this a “process,” but no word of Scripture can be found to this effect. To speak of an inner-trinitarian process is either useless or tends to mislead. When accepting the revelation granted us, we must remember that these divine realities are couched in imperfect human terms, which only dimly reveal the ineffable realities. Therefore we will halt all speculation. With the church through the past centuries we will expend our efforts in guarding the revelation which we have against all the perversions that constantly enter men’s minds. This, too, will aid us: God would never have revealed to us what he did concerning the Holy Trinity and the inner relation of the three Persons, because all this leaves our powers of comprehension so far behind, but for the necessity involved in his plan of salvation, the Father sending the Son, the Son executing his redemptive mission, and the Holy Spirit appropriating this redemption to us.

During the last generation efforts were made to interpret “Only-begotten” with reference to the exceptional human begetting and birth of Christ. “The Only-begotten” is said to be such only because of the peculiar relation of Christ’s humanity or flesh to the Father. Others are “Children of God” by grace, by adoption, by a transfer from sin to pardon; Jesus is the Son by nature, by his very conception in the Virgin’s womb, and in this sense “Only-begotten.” And John first speaks of the incarnation, “The Word became flesh,” and then in close connection with this statement uses what this new teaching calls the correlate concepts “Only-begotten” and “Father,” whereas, in v. 1–12 nothing is said about a generation or begetting of the pre-existent Logos. But this structure cannot stand. If the terms “Father” and “Son” are due to the conception that took place in the Virgin’s womb, then we have a “Father” who begot something that was only human, for in the Virgin’s womb only Christ’s human nature was begotten. Then we should have a “Son” who is a son only in his human nature, i.e., only a human son. Moreover, the church has never confessed, “who was conceived by the Father, born of the Virgin Mary”; but, “who was conceived by the Holy Ghost,” etc.

To base the Fatherhood and the Sonship on the human birth from the Virgin’s womb contradicts John’s statement, “The Word became flesh,” the Word that in eternity was with God and that himself was God. If the Sonship is human, and only human, “flesh,” as John writes, then “the glory” which he so emphasizes likewise becomes only human and thus fades away. We dare not overlook the fact that the mighty terms Logos, Life, Light, which run through v. 1–14, are in the same class with the terms that fill v. 14, Logos, Glory, Only-begotten, Father, Grace and Truth, all of which reach back to eternity, and all of them are so interlocked that not one can be singled out and dated from some point in time. When the Logos became flesh, and John with the others came to see his glory, this was the glory of the Logos—“the flesh” had no glory, save such as it received from the Logos whose organ it became. The objection that John beheld only the glory of the Logos ἔνσαρκος not that of the Logos ἄσαρκος is specious. To be sure, John did not see the unincarnate Logos.

Yet we know nothing about two different glories of the Logos, his glory is only one. John and the others beheld the divine glory of the Son as it shone forth in his divine attributes manifested through the veil of his human flesh and that flesh during the time that it was in the state of humiliation. In due time, in the day of exaltation, the absolute fulness of this one glory would illumine also the flesh of the Logos in heaven above.

The phrase παρὰπατρός, “from the Father,” literally, “from beside,” cannot be construed with μονογενής because of the verbal idea contained in the term, since the Greek would use the genitive for this construction or the preposition ἐκ, never παρά. Some combine “Only-begotten from the Father” by inserting an idea to match the preposition, “the Only-begotten coming from beside the Father.” Aside from the fact that prepositions contain no motion, this would be a superfluous idea, since the Only-begotten could come from no one else, and we have already been assured in v. 1, 2, that he was with God. The phrase “from the Father” is coordinate with “as of the Only-begotten,” both equally modifying “glory.” What these witnesses beheld was “glory from the Father,” a glory so great, so truly divine, resulting from the eternal relation of the Logos to the Father and thus shining forth in the Incarnate Son. This was the kabod Yaweh revealed in the Old Testament in a variety of ways, because of which also the Son is called “the effulgence of his glory, and the very image (impress) of his substance,” Heb. 1:3.

The addition “full of grace and truth” has caused some discussion because the apparent nominative πλήρης seemed to depend on ὁλόγος, thus forcing us to assume the parenthesis indicated in the R. V., or compelling us to accept a violation of grammar by making this supposed nominative depend either on the accusative δόξαν or on the genitive αὑτοῦ. The entire difficulty is brushed away since the new grammars have demonstrated that πλήρης is indeclinable. R. 1204 remarks: “The papyri have taught us to be chary about charging John with being ungrammatical in πλήρηςχάριτος (John 1:14). These matters simply show that the New Testament writers used a live language and were not automata.” He adds: “It is doubtless true that no other writer used repetition of word and phrase as did the author of the Fourth Gospel, but no one will deny that he did it with consummate skill and marvelous vividness and dramatic power.” We are thus perfectly free to regard πλήρης as a genitive modifying αὑτοῦ, or as an accusative modifying δόξαν. The former seems preferable as connecting this fulness of grace and truth directly with the person. Thus also “grace and truth” specify the attributes particularly meant by “glory.”

When John writes “full” he means that all that was in him and shone forth from him was grace and truth. Once God proclaimed himself to Moses, “The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abundant in goodness and truth,” Exod. 34:6. Now that the Son appeared in the flesh, the same fulness shone forth in him. There was no half measure, no fraction, but perfect completeness in every thought, word, and action. While grace and truth are especially named, this does not mean that other attributes of the Logos are excluded. These two, however, are central for our salvation.

Like a stream they flow out to us poor sinners so that we may have, possess, and enjoy what they bring. “Grace” is undeserved favor. The term connotes sin and guilt on our part which this grace removes by pardon, justification, and adoption to childhood. The heart of this grace is the redemption in Christ Jesus. Grace bestows a free and unmerited gift, first the central gift of pardon, v. 12, and then all the abundance of gifts that follow pardon. Some identify grace with these gifts, but it is better to think of it as the attribute whence these gifts flow. “Truth” is linked with “grace,” since the two are intertwined: grace in truth, and truth in grace. Truth is the saving light which John has mentioned repeatedly.

The word ἀλήθεια means “reality,” the reality itself as well as any statement of it in words. While the term is general, it is constantly used, as here joined with grace, to denote the saving realities in God and Christ Jesus. Thus the incarnate Logos is the full embodiment of saving truth, and his name thus is both Truth and Light. Again truth is the reality of God’s will, his purpose and plan for our salvation, and every act of his in accord therewith. The threats and judgments of God and of Christ are also truth, and yet the term is most frequently used with reference to saving promises, every one of which is fulfilled to the uttermost. Both grace and truth intend to kindle, maintain, and increase faith and trust in our hearts.

They shine forth, “that believing ye might have life through his name,” 20:31. It is ungratefulness itself to be met with the fulness of grace and truth and to reply with unbelief.

John 1:15

15 For the great facts attested in v. 14, in corroboration of what John and his associates beheld in Christ, the testimony of the Baptist is now adduced in brief. For this reason John introduced the Baptist to his readers already in v. 6, 7, as one divinely sent to bear witness of the light. If some still thought too highly of the Baptist, they will certainly be impressed by the words which John quotes from his lips, words which he himself and his companions had heard the Baptist utter. So important is the Baptist’s testimony that John presently presents it quite completely in its historical setting. Here only the pith of it is used as directly and pointedly substantiating the incarnation and the glory of the Only-begotten. Yet this brief introduction of the Baptist’s testimony seems out of place to certain interpreters, who for this reason would either cancel v. 15 or transfer it to a different place, making v. 16 follow v. 14.

But corroboration is always in place, as the writer may desire it to re-enforce his own testimony, and doubly in place when this testimony deals with supernatural facts of the loftiest type. The texts are solidly for the genuineness of v. 15. John bears witness concerning him and cries, saying, This was he of whom I said, He that comes after me is become before me, because he was first compared with me.

The present tense μαρτυρεῖ is forceful, whether we regard it as dramatizing the past act of bearing witness, or take it that the evangelist’s testimony is still sounding forth. The tense reads as if the evangelist still hears the Baptist speaking. The form κέκραγεν is the perfect; but this is one of a group of perfects which has lost the punctiliar part of the action and has retained only the notion of duration, hence must be translated with the present: “cries,” or “goes on crying,” R. 894, etc. The Baptist’s testimony is public, delivered with a loud voice so that all may hear. Moreover, the Baptist himself states that he gave this testimony twice. The fact that he repeated it shows its great weight.

Here the Baptist has ῆ̓ν, whereas in v. 30 he has ἐστίν. This is due to the attraction of thought exerted by εῖ̓πον, which takes the speaker’s mind into the past and disregards the fact that what he says is also true of the present. Similar ῆ̓ν appear in 3:23; 4:6; 10:41; 11:18. The circumstantial λέγων, “saying,” “declaring,” helps to mark the formal nature of the utterance now made. When the Baptist first made this utterance concerning Jesus we are unable to determine; some think it was said before Jesus’ baptism and was solemnly repeated after the baptism, as is shown in v. 29–34.

The Baptist’s testimony consists of three clauses: “He that comes after me—is become before me—because he was first compared with me.” The first two clauses form the strongest kind of a paradox, they are like a riddle or an enigma. How can one who comes behind the Baptist have come in front of him? The adverbs of place ὀπίσω and ἔμπροσθεν are here used to indicate time. Hence: How can one who comes later than the Baptist have come earlier than he? The third clause furnishes the solution: He was first compared with me. We begin with the solution: ὅτιπρῶτόςμουῆ̓ν.

The enigma turns on two points of time, only one of which seems possible, and yet both are declared to be actual. The solution must, therefore, also deal with time. In other words, πρῶτόςμου, with its genitive of comparison, cannot denote rank. This would be out of line entirely, failing to solve the enigma and clashing with half of it, since great personages are ushered in and preceded by those of lesser rank or by their servants, and not the reverse. While the superlative πρῶτος has crowded out the comparative πρότερος when only two are being compared, this does not affect the solution of the problem. More important is the verb ῆ̓ν, which reaches back indefinitely, like the four ῆ̓ν in v. 1, 2.

The solution, then, lies in the pre-existence of the person to whom the Baptist points as being present before him and his hearers, namely Jesus. That this pre-existence also involves the highest superiority in rank goes without saying and is a self-evident deduction. Yet rank is not the key to the solution of the problem. This pre-existence, to which the Baptist testified so emphatically, perfectly corroborates the evangelist’s statement that the Logos became flesh and that he possessed the divine glory of the Only-begotten.

The objection has been raised that the knowledge of the pre-existence of Christ was beyond the experience of the Baptist. The evangelist is charged with putting his own ideas into the mouth of the Baptist. The same is done with regard to many of the great utterances of Christ himself. The very strangeness of the Baptist’s utterance is unique. It is couched in a form that the Jews liked and because of its very form is easily remembered. The stress which the evangelist puts upon this testimony of the Baptist, both here and in v. 29–33, shows that this remarkable testimony is genuine.

The Baptist uttered not only this testimony but all his preaching by revelation as one who was sent and commissioned by God. If this testimony of his is manufactured and false, then all else that is recorded of him is equally spurious, he himself becomes a figment, and the sacred records which have invented him are unreliable throughout. Even the prophets knew what the Baptist embodied in his striking saying, for they spoke and wrote by the same revelation, Isa. 9:6; Micah 5:2; Mal. 3:1; Dan. 7:13; etc.

Christ’s pre-existence makes plain how one and the same person could come later than the Baptist and yet have come earlier than he; could be both his successor and his predecessor. We must note that the substantivized participle ὁἐρχόμενος is a standard designation for the promised Messiah. While Jesus was born about six months later than the Baptist, and the paradox would be true if this point is considered, the “coming” of which the Baptist speaks is that of entering upon his appointed office as the Messiah. Jesus assumed his office later than the Baptist, for the latter ushered him into that office by baptizing him. And yet this wonderful person also preceded the Baptist; ἔμπροσθένμουγέγονεν. This verb, when used with an adverb of place, has the sense of “come,” (hin) kommen, gehen, as in 6:25.

As in v. 6, the verb speaks of appearance, hervortreten, being in action. The perfect tense is especially important, reaching back, as it does, indefinitely into the past, whereas the aorist ἐγένετο would indicate only a fixed period in the past. For we must note that in the solution of the paradox this γέγονεν merges into ῆ̓ν (has been coming before me; for he was first compared with me). These two tenses should not be restricted to the Old Testament era and to the presence and the operation of the Logos during that time but should be understood in the sense of Micah 5:2, “whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting.” The Baptist’s paradox deals with the mystery of the incarnation. Like the evangelist and like all of the Scriptures he shows us the eternal Son of God who became flesh, dwelt among us, and manifested forth his glory. The relation of this Son to the Father goes back to all eternity; that of the evangelist, the apostles, the prophets, and all men of God begins in time.

Those who reject the Zweinaturenlehre, or by a kenosis empty the Logos of his divine attributes, or who make Jesus divine only morally thus reject the solution of the Baptist’s paradox instead of solving it.

John 1:16

16 The old church. made v. 16 a part of the Baptist’s statement, so that “we all” in the Baptist’s word would mean himself and the ancient prophets. But this cannot be correct. The Baptist’s paradox and his solution stand out as something complete in itself. Then also ἡμεῖςπάντες plainly refers back to v. 14: ἐνἡμῖν and ἐθεασάμεθα. For of his fulness we all received, and grace for grace, takes up the thought of v. 14 and thus continues the evangelist’s own testimony. V. 15 is inserted only as a most effective corroboration.

That, too, is why John uses ὅτι and not καί as the connective. The latter would coordinate with v. 15; but v. 16 is not coordinate with v. 15, unless in v. 16 the Baptist is still speaking. “Fulness” and “grace” evidently take up the corresponding terms in v. 14, and “we all received” evidently advances the thought started by “we beheld” in v. 14. Thus ὅτι intends to establish more completely what v. 14 contains and what v. 15 has corroborated in an objective way. In a way, the fact that the Word became flesh, that the Baptist’s successor, Jesus, was his predecessor in the indefinite past, needs no subjective proof. And yet it, is bound to have also this kind of proof. There would be eyes to see the glory of this Person, glory as of the Only-begotten, glory as from the Father, showing him to be full of grace and truth.

And this seeing and beholding would not be only an external view, it would be connected with an internal receiving, a personal and abiding enrichment.

“Of his fulness” or “from his fulness,” ἐκ, takes up the adjective “full” in v. 14. No modifier is needed with “fulness,” for we already know that this consists of “grace and truth.” Col. 1:19, “For it pleased the Father that in him should all fulness dwell.” This is the “riches” of the Lamb, Rev. 5:12; “the unsearchable riches of Christ” which Paul was counted worthy to preach to the Gentiles, Eph. 3:8; “the riches of his grace,” Eph. 1:7. Luther pictures the inexhaustible nature of this fulness: “This spring is inexhaustible, it is full of grace and truth from God, it never loses anything, no matter how much we draw, but remains an infinite fountain of all grace and truth; the more you draw from it, the more abundantly it gives of the water that springs into eternal life. Just as the sun is not darkened by the whole world enjoying its light, and could, indeed, light up ten worlds; just as 100, 000 lights might be lit from one light and not detract from it; just as a learned man is able to make a thousand others learned, and the more he gives, the more he has—so is Christ, our Lord, an infinite source of all grace, so that if the whole world would draw enough grace and truth from it to make the world all angels, yet it would not lose a drop; the fountain always runs over, full of grace.”

The terseness of the phrase “out of his fulness” is matched by the terseness of “we all received.” By adding no object for the verb the contrast between the fulness and the receiving is enhanced. “We” have nothing—Christ has the inexhaustible abundance. He is the Giver—we are the recipients, and that is all that we are or could be. It was so in the case of John and his fellow-witnesses who directly beheld the Savior and are the persons included in “we all”; and it is so still in our case who now behold the Savior in the inspired testimony of these original witnesses. The verb λαμβάνω has an active sense, “to take”; but it is used throughout, whenever our relation to Christ, to God, or to the Spirit of God is mentioned, without a hint of meritorious activity on our part. God’s gift, offer, call, etc., always come first and not only make possible our receiving but induce, effect this receiving. So we take, as a poor, helpless patient takes the medicine put to his lips by the physician; as the blind mendicant takes the coin dropped into his hand by the charitable giver; as the eye takes in the sunbeam falling from on high, or the sound that strikes its membrane; yea, as the dead Lazarus takes the life conveyed to him by the word of him who is the resurrection and the life.

This is especially true of our first taking or receiving from Christ. But even when the gift and the grace of Christ have filled us with faith, so that we ourselves come to him for replenishment and ourselves beg for his saving gifts, this very energy and activity of coming and seeking is a gift of his to us, namely the constant drawing which his fulness exerts upon us and any measure of faith that we may have. Thus in its fullest sense it is true: “What hast thou that thou didst not receive? Now if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory, as if thou hadst not received it?” 1 Cor. 4:7. And the Baptist himself said, “A man can receive nothing, except it be given him from heaven,” John 3:23.

The connective καί in “and grace for grace” marks “an explanatory addition,” “epexegetic or explicative,” R. 1181. The preposition ἀντί denotes exchange. “As the days come and go a new supply takes the place of the grace already bestowed, as wave follows wave upon the shore. Grace answers to (ἀντί) grace,” R. 574. Hence “grace for grace” is not the grace of the New Testament for that of the Old; not ordinary grace followed by charismatic grace; not merely one individual gift of grace followed by another individual gift—but grace ever new and greater. One measure of it assures another. It is like a stream flowing constantly; every day, every hour its banks are full, ever fresh volumes coming down from above, so that no longing for grace in our hearts is left without immediate and complete supply.

We may specify justification, peace with God, consolation, joy, enlightenment, love, hope, etc., Rom. 5; Gal. 5:22; Eph. 5:9. Grace for grace is according to the divine rule, “Whosoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance,” Matt. 13:12. This doubling of the word “grace” reveals what is meant by “his fulness” and casts a wonderful light upon our receiving. “Are there sinners here? Certainly, many. But here, too, is the malefactor’s grace for the sinner’s heart, and it cleanses and saves. Are there sorrowing and heavy hearts here?

Lay down your bundle of cares, take instead grace for grace. Are there poor people here? Here is he who by his poverty makes us rich. Nothing but his grace makes us rich amid all outward poverty, consoles us amid all sadness, strengthens us in all our weakness, gives us the power of life and the fulness of life.” Schoener who writes once more: “Grace is a treasure to which none others can be compared. Carry together all the treasures of earth, and all together they will not balance what lies in the one word grace. Grace is the blood-red mark which cancels the handwriting against us; the star of hope which sends its rays into this earth-life darkened by sin; the ladder which leads us upward; the immovable pillar which shall stand, though hills and mountains pass away, and shall support the covenant of peace; the staff to which we can cling in our weakness; the guide who leads us safely through sorrow and death into the open portals of eternal blessedness.”

The concept χάρις has already been defined in v. 14. We may add that “grace” is the effective manifestation of God’s undeserved love toward sinful men, offering to all the salvation obtained by Christ, by this offer working faith to accept it, justifying us without any merit of our own, sanctifying and glorifying us. Grace is the chief characteristic of the entire gospel of Christ, of the entire Christian religion, the center of the mystery, unknown to the world, revealed in Jesus Christ. The fact that in emphasizing “grace” John has by no means forgotten “truth,” which he added in v. 14, is shown by v. 17.

John 1:17

17 The ὅτι in v. 16 answers the question, why John could in v. 14 say, “we beheld.” It is because “we actually received.” The ὅτι in v. 17 goes deeper, from the subjective reception to the objective coming into being of what was received. Here the question is, why John could say both “we beheld” and “we received.” It is because grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. To enhance the great historic fact thus offered as a reason a comparison is made between the two mediators (διά), the human and the divine, Moses and Jesus Christ. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. A threefold antithesis is brought out in this double statement: 1) the law—grace and truth; 2) was given—came; 3) Moses—Jesus Christ. The three pairs are opposites but opposites that correspond.

One likeness is included, namely the idea of mediation in διά, which is used with respect to both Moses and Jesus Christ. The form is that of the Hebrew parallelismus membrorum.

“The law,” ὁνόμος (with the article), is definite, the moral and the ceremonial law as Israel had it on the tables of stone and in its elaborate worship and in its civil and social regulations. This law was no mean treasure; by possessing it Israel was greatly blessed. Yet it was not the actual “fulness” from which one could receive grace for grace. The law was only preparatory. It revealed the holy will of God and thus man’s exceeding sinfulness and the depth of our lost condition. At the same time we must add that the law was full of types and figures of deliverance from sin, and it even mediated a deliverance but one based on the great atonement that was to come.

Of course, the law itself thus indicated that everything depended on that future perfect atonement. The law itself contained no availing atonement, it could only point forward, awaken the longing for it, picture and foreshadow it in advance, and, like a παιδαγογός, lead to it. Lex iram parans et umbram habens, Bengel. The law was much, but more had to follow even to make the law what it was.

It “was given,” ἐδόθη, is a historical aorist. God gave it, and it came wholly as a gift, although remnants and traces of the holy will of God were still found in human hearts. The Israelites esteemed the law as a divine gift even when they failed to see its relation to the gospel. It “was given” expresses exactly the historical manner of its bestowal. It was not a human development, an outgrowth of the religious genius of the people of Israel, or a product of its great leader or of a number of its leaders (Moses and the prophets.) This speculative idea of modern students of history is contradicted by our evangelist. In spite of all evolutionary ideas the sober fact remains that no human wisdom, genius, or development could possibly produce “the law” either in Israel or in any other nation since Israel’s time, this wonderful system, every feature of which points beyond all human calculation, into the far future, to the coming Messiah, the Word made flesh and his redemptive work for all the world.

The law was given “through Moses”; διά after the passive verb plainly indicates that Moses was only God’s instrument. God could easily have used any one of a number of similar instruments. We know how God used Moses to receive the two tables of stone, to construct the tabernacle and all it contained after the pattern shown him on the mount, and to inaugurate the entire worship under the law as directed by God. Moses was not the law, as Christ is grace and truth; he was only its minister and servant, as much under it, subject to it, taught by it, blessed by it as were the people to whom he ministered. With Christ, as regards grace and truth, quite the reverse is true.

“Grace and truth” are the same as in v. 14, each marked as such by the article of previous reference, each thus also marked as distinct from the other. While they are distinct, the two are most intimately joined, for grace is proclaimed by truth, and truth is the revelation and the doctrine of grace. Both have already been defined in v. 14. We may add that for us both are objective, for of both John writes that they “came,” ἐγένετο. So also in v. 14 it is the incarnate Logos who is full of grace and truth. Yet both are intended for our subjective appropriation. That is why the two “came.” And when it is thus appropriated, grace always forgives and gives, and truth reveals and assures both the forgiveness and the gifts.

The verb ἐγένετο is used like γέγονεν in v. 15, grace and truth “came.” Here again the choice of words evidences the guidance of Inspiration. Grace and truth “came”; they were not “given” like the law. No Giver used a human instrument and made grace and truth a gift. These two are too great and high. They are in their root divine attributes. Thus they were embodied in

Jesus Christ, they “came” in his incarnation and his mission. God did not merely tell us about grace and truth, so that he could have used another Moses or an array of prophets. Jesus himself was grace and truth. His own person and his work constitute the very substance of grace and truth. The Lord who passed before Moses, “abundant in goodness and truth,” Exod. 34:6, whom the Psalmist praised, “The Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting, and his truth endureth to all generations,” Ps. 100:5, he it is “who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption,” 1 Cor. 1:30 in the incarnate Son, Christ Jesus. Yet grace and truth “came” thus not in an absolute sense as though now for the first time they sprang into existence but relatively as far as the actual work of redemption and its historical execution are concerned after existing for a long time in the thought of God and after being conveyed to men by promise.

Not until this place does John mention the historic name of the incarnate Logos, the name that is above every name: grace and truth came “through Jesus Christ.” What a glory is shed over it in all that John has said before! It is like the sun rising in the east and lighting up all the earth with its diffused light while films of clouds still spread before it until suddenly it breaks through, and we see the great majestic light itself. “Jesus” is the name of the person, “Christ” or Messiah is a designation of the office. But here διά is not used with a passive verb, hence it does not introduce an instrument or a tool as a medium. This διά is as lofty as the verb of being which it modifies. He who himself is grace and truth mediates these attributes and all that they effect and bestow.

John 1:18

18 The line of thought from v. 14 onward is quite straight; the incarnate coming of the Word who is the Only-begotten, attested as pre-existent by the Baptist. Being full of grace and truth, we received from him grace for grace, for, as compared with Moses, grace and truth actually came by him, in fact, could come by him alone, who being the Only-begotten in the bosom of his Father alone could bring us the ultimate revelation. In particular, v. 18 expounds the ἐγένετο of v. 17 and helps to show how the Logos “came.” V. 14 shows how he arrived, he was born in Bethlehem; v. 18 shows whence he arrived and thus how he could bring what he brought. In form v. 18 is an advanced parallel to v. 17, each with a negative and with a positive part. The advance is from the gifts (law, grace, and truth) to the source of these gifts (the law not requiring the sight of God, grace and truth requiring even more, that the bringer be even in the bosom of the Father). Because v. 17 and 18 are such parallels, therefore v. 18 is simply set beside v. 17 and has no connective word. No man hath seen God at any time; God Only-begotten, who is in the bosom of the Father, he did declare him.

The emphasis is on “God,” “God no one hath seen at any time” no matter whom or what else he may have seen. The absence of the article with Θεόν has no special significance, the word itself means “God” in his actual being as distinguished from the theophanies when God assumed certain mediums for appearing unto men. The verb ὁράω means simply “to see” with the eye and thus denies even this much in regard to God: no man ever even saw him, to speak of nothing more. This, of course, is in contrast with the Logos who not only saw God but was in the bosom of his Father. John uses many perfect tenses, all of which are highly expressive. Here he has ἑώρακε, which with πώποτε, “hath seen at any time,” is an extensive perfect, R. 893, but of broken continuity, R. 896, 906: … > …; meaning that in all the extent of the past no one ever at this or at that moment had a glimpse of God.

The denial is general and absolute, including Moses as a matter of course: but also all others whoever they may be. In Exod. 33:11 the Lord, indeed, spoke to Moses “face to face.” “Face to face” = “mouth to mouth,” Num. 12:8, and thus does not imply that Moses saw the face of God. God communicated with Moses in the most direct way, and in the directness of this communication Moses excelled all others save Christ, though God never appeared even to Moses in solida sua gloria (Calov). Luther says, the Lord showed Moses his back and mantle; “thus Moses saw the mercy of God from behind as in the divine Word.”

Against this strong background of negation is placed the still stronger affirmation that the Word made flesh has more than seen God. The question of the true reading is no longer in doubt. It is μονογενὴςΘεός and not ὁμονογενὴςυἱός, nor ὁμονογενής without a substantive. The article in the variant ὁμονογενὴςΘεός would even be misleading as indicating that there are several Θεοί, one of whom is Only-begotten. The absence of the article bids us stress the qualitative force of the terms, and the adjective μονογενής is attributive, R. 856. We have already rejected the interpretation that “Only-begotten” refers to the human conception in the womb of the Virgin, and that only in this human sense the Logos became the Only-begotten.

Here the addition Θεός makes this certain beyond question. “God Only-begotten” cannot date from a point in the course of time, for this would be a contradiction in the very terms, the one term “God” being timeless, eternal, the other term “Only-begotten” being 1900 years old. “God Only-begotten” is such from all eternity, and the adjective predicates the inner Trinitarian mystery of the generatio aeterna, describing the eternal metaphysical relation of the Father and the Son. The objections raised against this evident sense are futile. The chief one is that John speaks of the revealed Savior, hence he says nothing about the relation of the divine persons. The simple truth is that John is revealing to us who Jesus Christ really was: the Logos, true God, begotten of the Father from eternity. He reveals this much, though it exceeds our finite powers of comprehension, because we must know at least this much, i.e., the fact thus stated, in order properly to understand and value what the Logos has done. The objection based on the glory (v. 14) of the Only-begotten, that this is only the glory of his personal revelation, dating only from the incarnation and embodied in the incarnation, is answered by the simple fact that this was no human glory, however great it may be made, but the divine glory, the manifestation of the divine nature of the Logos.

Many of the German theologians who thus lower the term “Only-begotten” still hold that Jesus was the pre-existent Logos and thus in the true sense Θεός, but others have gone much farther. The breach made by removing eternity from “Only-begotten” is widened. By way of the kenosis Jesus loses also all that lies in the concept Θεός. He has now only “one nature,” the Zweinaturenlehre is a relic of the past. We have only a divine man, differing only in degree from other godly men, a beautiful ethical example and no more. This ends with the statement that we have lost nothing in regard to Jesus, yea, have gained ever so much, for is not Jesus hereby brought much nearer to us?

At this point John goes beyond “Only-begotten” which he has here added to the Logos as being “God.” He pours out the fullest measure of revelation: God Only-begotten “who is in the bosom of the Father.” The interpretation of this participial clause is misdirected when “Only-begotten” is made temporal instead of eternal. The present participle ὤν is timeless as Luther already perceived: “is—ever and ever is.” It is thus more than if John had written ὃςῆ̓ν, “who was,” for this would only reach backward; also better than ὅςἐστι, which would sound like a statement merely about the present when John was writing. The participle expresses only durative being and thus more easily becomes timeless. The article ὁὤν does only one thing: it attaches the participle to “God Only-begotten” after the manner of a relative clause and describes this wonderful person for us. In no way does the article change or limit the timeless force of the participle. This would, indeed, be greatly changed if “God Only-begotten” dates only from the Virgin birth, for then any further modifier would be equally limited.

Without the article the participle, though it is separated from the main verb by ἐκεῖνος, would tend to become adverbial, either temporal, “when he was in the bosom,” or causal, “since he was in the bosom”; and thus instead of the timelessness we should have the mere historical time indicated by the constative (R. 829) aorist ἐξηγήσατο. These are the assured grammatical facts regarding ὁὤν, which we should not yield when they are modified in the interest of a wrong view of the person who is truly “God Only-begotten.”

The view of the ancient church was that ὁὤν extended back from the time when Christ appeared on earth, back to all eternity. Since the present participle may stand also for the imperfect tense, this view has some justification grammatically. So understood, this participle would resemble the repeated ῆ̓ν in v. 1, 2. While thus the participle would predicate nothing concerning Christ since the time of his earthly appearance, by an easy inference at least we should be able to conclude that Christ as “God Only-begotten” is also now and, indeed, is forever in the Father’s bosom. So the ancient interpretation can hardly be called wrong. The objection that the being with God of the Logos in v. 1 and his being in the world in v. 10 are exclusive opposites is untenable; these two do not exclude each other, for the second is an addition to the other, even as the title “the Word” in v. 1 already points to the revelation to be made to the world in v. 10. A second view that Christ was in the bosom of the Father only during his earthly life is shut out by the very language and is usually understood to mean only an intimate communion of the man Jesus with his God, which negatives “God Only-begotten.” The view that Christ is in the bosom of his Father only since his exaltation to heaven clashes with the very point at issue in v. 18, which is how and why Christ could perfectly declare God to us before his exaltation.

It is surprising that in spite of all the information available through the recently discovered mass of ostraca and papyri, presented in all the newer grammars, for instance, also by R. 535, 586, and 591, etc., at some length, any recent first-class exegete and linguist should still insist that with ὤν we must regard εἰς as distinct from ἐν, as denoting a movement toward the Father’s bosom ending with rest in that bosom. This is the old explanation of the use of εἰς with static verbs and verbs of being and was made when the Koine was not understood on this and on many other points. Let the student read the entire story of the rise of εἰς after ἐν had the field alone; how εἰς first divided the field with ἐν by taking over all the verbs of motion; how εἰς then began its invasion of the territory of ἐν, namely by starting to be used with verbs of being and condition, just as we see this in the New Testament, with a case right here in ὤνεἰς; and how this use went on until in the modern Greek vernacular ἐν is dead and εἰς rules. We must translate, “in the bosom” just as if ἐν were used and not εἰς. The preposition denotes place, and since persons are referred to, it denotes their union and communion, whereas πρός in v. 1 and 3 denotes reciprocity The term κόλπος is figurative and brings out the idea of greatest possible intimacy. God Only-begotten and the Father could not be in closer union.

They do not only “see” each other, “know” or “speak with each other”; they are in each other’s embrace. This is only one step removed from the word of Jesus himself when he says that he and the Father are one.

Hitherto John has written “God” and “the Logos” when distinguishing the two persons, though at once he also called the latter “God.” Here he writes “the Father” and “God Only-begotten,” by the former making fully clear in what sense “Only-begotten” is to be understood. This thus is the first instance in which the word “Father” is used distinctively with regard to “the Son” to express a relation that is far superior to that which we have in mind when we speak of the Father and regard ourselves as “God’s children,” v. 12, or as “God’s sons,” Gal. 3:26; 4:6, 7. Jesus never unites himself with us by saying “our Father.” When he says “my Father” he distinguishes himself, the essential Son, from all others who are only adopted sons. This is made evident with greatest clearness in 20:17, “I ascend unto my Father and your Father, and my God and your God.” It will not do, then, to see in this distinctive term “Father” only the character and the scope of what Christ revealed to us, that in a sense God is truly our Father, or that he is Christ’s Father by virtue of the incarnation. “God Only-begotten” and “the Father” are the correlatives of the Son by virtue of their eternal relation through the generatio aeterna. And this relation is immutable, grounded in the divine essence itself, unaffected by the incarnation, though our human reason is able to fathom neither the unincarnate nor the incarnate side of it.

The wonderful person thus described to us can, indeed, and did, indeed, bring us the ultimate revelation, “he did declare him.” The demonstrative ἐκεῖνος is resumptive and emphatic, taking up “God Only-begotten” together with the appended relative clause, R. 707 and 708. The verb ἐξηγήσατο is choice and impressive and is not used otherwise by the evangelist. It goes far beyond what any man could do, assuming even that it were possible for him to see God and then to tell us what he had seen. The tense is the historical aorist, summing up all that Jesus “did declare” concerning God not only by his words and his deeds but also by his very coming and the presence of his person. The Logos is the supreme exegete, the absolute interpreter of God. The verb means more than erzaehlen, “to narrate or tell”; it means “to expound” or “set forth completely.” The Greek is able to dispense with an object, but the English cannot imitate this brevity.

So some supply “it,” which is too weak and means too little; others, what he beheld while being with God, which is well enough in substance but too long in form; “him” is best of all. “Christ did not receive the revelation in time, like the Old Testament prophets, by means of the inspiration of the spirit of God, passing it on to others; he is himself the eternal Logos and the essential truth. He made known on earth what he beheld with the Father and heard from the Father as the Son of God before the foundation of the world, John 3:32; 6:46; 8:26, 38, 40; 12:50 (compare the analogous expression concerning the Holy Ghost, 16:13). And this which he received and obtained not merely in time but beheld and heard before his incarnation in eternity he sees and hears also continuously as man, since it is an eternal seeing and hearing and not subject to the change of time. For as we have already learned, he is the exegete of the Father, as the one who is in the bosom of the Father, and he knoweth the Father, as the Father knoweth him, John 8:55; 10:15. And as he knows the Father, so he knows also men, his brethren.” Philippi, Glaubenslehre, IV, 1, 443. Thus also the last word ἐκεῖνοςἐξηγήσατο re-echoes and joins again the first word ὁλόγος: The Word—he did declare.

And this ushers in the historical account, setting down for us what “he did declare.”

THE ATTESTATION OF JESUS CHRIST AS THE SON OF GOD IN HIS PUBLIC MINISTRY 1:19–12:50

I

The Opening Attestation as his Ministry Begins, 1:19–2:11

The sections here grouped together evidently constitute the first great chapter in the body of the book. The sections are all linked together with references to time: v. 29—35—43—2:1. This group of events marks those occurring on four successive days and another that happened three days later, thus coming to pass in one week of just seven days. Jesus emerges from the quiet life in Nazareth and now takes up his public ministry. We may divide into two parts: The Baptist’s Attestation of Christ as the Son of God, 1:19–42; The First Testimony of Jesus Himself, 1:43–2:11.

The Attestation of the Baptist, 1:19–42.—All four evangelists begin their accounts of the Messianic ministry of Jesus with a reference to the appearance and the activity of John the Baptist as the promised herald who was to prepare the Messiah’s way. John’s Gospel, however, takes the general history of the Baptist for granted; his Christian readers have it in the earlier Gospels. John is satisfied to use only the specific testimony which the Baptist gave to Jesus as the Messiah and Son of God. The other details of the Baptist’s preaching John passes by as not being pertinent to his theme. He selects the most notable testimony offered by the Baptist on three consecutive days: 1) before the commissions sent to him from Jerusalem; 2) before his own disciples; 3) before two of his disciples who then follow Jesus. The three episodes are exact, detailed, and circumstantial, recorded in a way which indicates the indelible impression made upon the heart of the writer, changing his entire life most completely. Here began the faith of the first believers in Jesus, and thus Christian faith, in the specific sense, in general.

John 1:19

19 And this is the witness of John when the Jews from Jerusalem sent to him priests and Levites, in order to inquire of him, Who art thou? And he confessed and denied not; and he confessed, I am not the Christ. To begin an entirely new section, in fact, the body of John’s Gospel with καί is Hebraistic, entire books and many independent parts of books beginning with υαυ, “and.” This eliminates the idea that “and” here intends to connect with v. 15 as though the summary testimony of the Baptist introduced in v. 15 is now to be furnished in detail. A close reading of the entire paragraph, v. 19–28, shows that this paragraph deals with a different time and a different occasion entirely. It is the next paragraph, v. 29–34, which tells the story of the testimony quoted in v. 15. If this introductory καί could connect with anything preceding, we should choose v. 7, where the Baptist is introduced as the witness, connected with which we would be told how he gave this witness.

But this καί is merely formal and connects with nothing. As such it not only belongs to the entire sentence, including the ὅτε clause, but is even repeated at the head of v. 20. This repeated καί at the head of v. 20 is often ignored, yet it is just as prominent as its original at the head of v. 19. This second καί also bars out the Suggestion that καὶαὕτηἐστὶνἡμαρτυρίατοῦἸωάνου forms a kind of heading for the three paragraphs which follow, “And this is the witness of John.” A new sentence would then begin with ὅτε, “When the Jews …, he confessed,” etc. John, however, wrote, “and he confessed,” etc.

Without further ceremony we are introduced to the Baptist at the very height of his ministry and his influence. Not a word is added describing the Baptist’s person and his appearance, his mode of life in the desert, his message in general, and his Baptism. We are supposed to know in advance also how the excitement grew to huge proportions among the people until they flocked in thousands to the lonely desert region, and until even the central authorities of the nation at Jerusalem felt constrained by the volume and the character of the reports to send out an official committee to make a firsthand investigation. The evangelist at once places us at the dramatic moment when before the gathered multitudes out in the wilderness this official committee faced the Baptist and received his telling answers to their questions. The evangelist was there, saw and heard it all and has left to us the record of what occurred. We see that for him the Baptist’s μαρτυρία is the essential thing. All else his readers may gather from the other evangelists; this “witness” indeed, is also recorded by them, yet our evangelist wishes to make full use of its great weight in this new Gospel which is to record the attestation that Jesus is the Son of God.

“The Jews,” οἱἸουδαῖοι, first meant the members of the tribe of Judah. After the exile when Judah and Benjamin returned, the nation as such was called “the Jews,” and the term “Israel” or “the Israelites” marked its religious character. John uses the term in this general sense, but as the narrative proceeds often with the note of hostility to Jesus. In certain contexts “the Jews” reads like “the enemies of Christ” although this is due to what must be reported concerning them. Just what persons are in each instance intended by the term the context makes plain. In this first mention “the Jews from Jerusalem” are evidently the Jewish authorities, namely the Sanhedrin, consisting of ἀρχιερεῖς, γραμματεῖς, and πρεσβύτεροι, high priests, scribes, and elders, who had their seat in the Holy City.

It is perfectly in order to use “the Jews” when the Sanhedrin is referred to, for this ruling body was the highest legal representative of the nation; its findings and decisions counted for the nation as such. We, of course, must assume that the movement produced by the Baptist had stirred the Sanhedrin into action, in particular the surmises and reports that this man might be the long expected Messiah. To make an official firsthand investigation was not only within the province of the Sanhedrin, it was really obligatory for this authoritative body to investigate and then to take such action as the case might warrant. The matter of a false Messiah, inflaming the people to fanatical action, might prove a very serious thing. So the commission is sent. The phrase “from Jerusalem,” as its position shows, is not to be construed with the verb, as the English versions have translated it, but with the noun, “the Jews from Jerusalem.” We note two forms for “Jerusalem,” the indeclinable feminine Ἱερουσαλήμ (LXX), which merely transliterates the Hebrew, and the neuter plural Ἱεροσόλυμα, which has more of a Greek dress.

The commission consisted of ἱερεῖςκαὶΛευῖται. The former were common priests not ἀρχιερεῖς, high priests, a term which includes the reigning high priest and those who had held the office before him or belonged to his family. John uses ἱερεῖς only in this one instance. The Levites, members of the tribe of Levi, performed the menial and the police work in the Temple and in the latter capacity were marshalled under the στρατηγὸςτοῦἱεροῦ, the Temple captain with his lieutenants. A detachment of Levites was sent along with the committee of priests first, on account of the dangers of the road from Jerusalem to the Jordan wilderness and, secondly, to lend a more official character to the committee of priests when it appeared among the great multitudes that were gathered about the Baptist. The verb ἐρωτάω used in the purpose clause refers to a formal and a dignified inquiry and hence reflects the importance which even the Sanhedrin accorded the Baptist, “in order to inquire of him”; the translation “to ask” in our versions is too light.

The narrative is compressed, for what this committee was to inquire and what it did inquire when it arrived on the scene is combined. The actual question: Σὺτίςεῖ̓; is retained as the object of ἐρωτήσωσιν in the purpose clause. The question itself cannot be considered as hostile or even inquisitorial, although it is legally formal and betrays no trace of longing or desire either on the part of the Sanhedrin or on the part of its committee. The emphasis is on σύ, “Thou, who art thou?” The Baptist was proclaiming the coming of the Messianic kingdom and was baptizing great multitudes as a preparation for this kingdom. Now Deut. 18:21, etc., implies that Israel should examine and test any prophet who might thus appear. Naturally, the Sanhedrin would act as the executive of the nation in the matter.

John 1:20

20 The striking feature is the elaborate way in which John introduces the Baptist’s reply, “And he confessed and denied not; and he confessed”—positive—negative—then again positive. Why this apparant redundancy? Not for one moment could we entertain the suggestion that this question contained a temptation for the Baptist to make himself more than he actually was, to play, at least in his mind, with the thought that he himself might be or might become the Messiah. The entire character of the Baptist, every act and word of his, bars out the idea that either now or at any time he felt tempted in this direction. No; this elaborate preamble reflects not the Baptist’s state of mind but that of the evangelist. It is as if John would say, “I myself heard him confess and not for one instant deny—and this is what he confessed.” The Baptist answered readily enough, but the evangelist intends that we, like himself, shall feel the full weight of the testimony that this answer contained.

This, too, is why he uses these verbs “to confess” and “to deny” instead of the ordinary “to reply,” which is all that is needed to match “to inquire.” The Baptist’s reply was more than a reply, it was a full, complete, clear-cut confession; it withheld nothing, hence had no trace of denial. This solemn preamble thus introduces all that the Baptist said in the entire dialog that follows and not merely the first brief word, “I am not the Christ.”

The evangelist retains the direct dramatic form of the original scene, indicating that he writes as an eye and ear witness. We shall meet this vivid directness again and again in our Gospel. Those who deny John’s authorship ignore or minimize this strong feature or explain it away by making the supposed author play the part of a novelist-historian who invents his own scenes and paints in the details from his own imagination. The Baptist might have answered the question addressed to him in a positive form by stating his name, parentage, and divine commission. Instead of this he answers the implication that lies in the question and thus from the start meets it squarely and directly. In all his proclamation to the people he had said nothing about himself.

He himself was only a minor figure, one who came to point to Another far greater than himself, which all who heard him could have no difficulty in perceiving. When he is now asked directly who he himself really is, he replies in the same way, pointing away from himself to this Greater One. That is what makes his reply a confession (v. 20) and a testimony (v. 19).

After the ὅτι recitativum, which is the equivalent of our quotation marks, the oldest texts read: ἘγὼοὑκεἰμὶὁΧριστός and place ἐγώ forward to match the emphatic forward σύ of the question; later texts read: ΟὑκεἰμὶἐγὼὁΧριστός. “Thou, who art thou?” “I, I am not the Christ,” since this is really what you wish to know. The emphatic ἐγώ is proper where there is a contrast with another person. ὉΧριστός with the article is appellative, “the Anointed One,” whoever this may be. In v. 17 “Jesus Christ” names the specific person. This prompt and pointed denial when the question itself was not, “Thou, art thou the Christ?” indicates that the rumor was abroad crediting the Baptist with being the promised Messiah, the Christ. One thing is certain, the Baptist himself had given no occasion for such a rumor. It sprang from the general expectation that was abroad, from the intensification this expectation received through the Baptist’s preaching and work, and from the imagination that went beyond the bounds of the Baptist’s own words.

John 1:21

21 Sent by the supreme authorities to probe the matter to the bottom, the spokesman of the committee, speaking for all, makes further inquiry. And they inquired of him, What then? Art thou Elijah? And he says, I am not. Art thou the prophet? And he replied, No.

The second question with οῦ̓ν builds on the Baptist’s answer, “What then?” i.e., if thou art not the Christ, and is at once followed by a more specific question, “Art thou Elijah?” Whether σύ is placed at the head or at the end of this question makes little difference, as in either place it would carry emphasis. The question itself rests on Mal. 3:23 (in the English and the German versions Mal. 4:5) as understood by the rabbis regarding the return of Elijah in person to prepare the Messianic kingdom. Perhaps something in the stern preaching of repentance by the Baptist, aided by his austere dress and mode of life, may have prompted the surmise that this rabbinic expectation was fulfilled and that the Baptist actually was Elijah returned to life. In this sense the Baptist utters his denial: οὑκεἰμί, “I am not,” omitting any pointed ἐγώ, which would add the wrong implication: I am not, but another is or will be. The Baptist’s denial, therefore, does not clash with what was promised regarding him in Luke 1:17, and with what Jesus afterward said of him in Matt. 11:14; 17:11, three statements which correctly interpret Malachi.

Without connecting words, as in drama, the third question follows with its briefest answer, “Art thou the prophet?” and we must note the article in the Greek: ὁπροφήτης, hence not “a prophet” (Luther) but “the” specific prophet, the one mentioned in Deut. 18:15 and 18, 19, and conceived to be, as 7:40 shows, a special prophet who would precede the Messiah. When the article is thus used with the predicate, it is both definite and treated as identical and interchangeable with the subject, R. 768. The apostles afterward understood correctly that in Deuteronomy the prophet like unto Moses is Christ himself, Acts 3:22; 7:37, which also is the understanding of the Galileans in John 6:14, etc. The Baptist answers the question in the sense in which it is put to him without stopping to correct the views of the questioners. His “No” is categorical. Note the progressive bluntness of the Baptist’s denials, until οὑ comes out flatly at the last, R. 1157. The assumption, attached to Matt. 16:14, that the questioners here have in mind Jeremiah who is supposed to return in person is really only a legendary notion drawn from 2 Macc. 2:4, etc.

John 1:22

22 The results obtained thus far by the committee are negative, though they are valuable as far as they go. Various ideas concerning the Baptist have been eliminated, some of which the questioners had in mind when they began, “Thou, who art thou?” So they begin again with a more elaborate question: They said, therefore, to him, Who art thou? that we may give an answer to them that sent us. What dost thou say concerning thyself? If instead of εῖ̓πον we read εῖ̓παν, this is only the Alexandrian form which a certain group of texts follows. The addition of οῦ̓ν after εῖ̓πον indicates that what is now asked is the outcome of the previous questions. Hence also the very general form: Τίςεῖ̓; which merely asks for information about the Baptist without reference to someone who he might be.

A natural ellipsis occurs before the purpose clause, “in order that we may give an answer,” etc., namely, “Tell us, in order that,” etc. The questioners here urge the Baptist to consider their position as a committee. The mere negative reply that he is not the Christ will not suffice the Sanhedrin nor the mere denials of various suppositions held by the people. They must bring more or receive heavy censure for having left the main part of their task undone. The “answer” they thus request from the Baptist is one that is positive, “What dost thou say concerning thyself?” The question thus put naturally reveals no personal concern or interest in regard to the Baptist and his mission. These men think only of the answer they are expected to bring to the Sanhedrin.

It may, indeed, be quite true that their personal thoughts and desires went no farther, that personally they were left quite cold by what they saw and heard out here in the wilderness. But all this is beside John’s narrative. He reports only what was said by these men and goes no farther.

John 1:23

23 Thus approached, the Baptist complies. He said, I am a voice shouting in the wilderness, Make straight the way of the Lord, as said Isaiah the prophet. The Baptist uses Isa. 40:3, and himself mentions the prophet whose words he uses when characterizing himself. Compare the author’s The Eisenach Old Testament Selections, 66, etc. The claim that the Baptist here merely appropriates Isaiah’s words and does not mean to say that he and his work are the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy would certainly be remarkable if true. Matt. 3:3; Mark 1:3; Luke 3:4 interpret Isaiah’s word as actually being fulfilled in the Baptist and in his work.

Even without this decisive evidence no other conclusion can be drawn from the Baptist’s answer to the committee of the Sanhedrin. He furnishes this committee with more than they had asked when they requested, “What dost thou say concerning thyself?” He supplies them with a divinely inspired statement from the greatest of their own prophets concerning his person and his work. Isaiah’s words do not merely happen to fit the Baptist’s thought, these words constitute the authority for his work.

The fact that the Baptist quotes in a free and an abbreviated way is entirely immaterial. This liberty is constantly used by those who quote. Isaiah writes, “Voice of a crier, In the wilderness prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God!” The Baptist declares not that he is such a voice, not that this picture of a voice in some way fits him also; but that he himself is this voice. He even imitates the Hebrew when he says, literally, “I—voice of a crier.” While the parallelism of the Hebrew lines induces us to connect the phrase “in the wilderness” with the verb prepare instead of with “the voice” (A. V.), this makes little difference. The Baptist evidently understands Isaiah to mean that both the voice and the highway are “in the desert,” and, surely, the fact of the fulfillment shows that this is correct.

The synoptists follow the LXX in the translation ἑτοιμάσατε, “prepare,” “make ready,” and εὑθείαςποιεῖτε (τὰςτρίβους); “make straight.” The Baptist spoke Aramaic and may have used the Aramaic for the second of these two verbs, which the evangelist translates into Greek without following the LXX, using εὑθύνατε which only approaches the LXX. Here we have a plain case which shows that John was quite independent of the LXX. Whereas the prophet has two poetic lines in a synonymous parallelism, the Baptist uses only one. Such condensation and abbreviation are constantly employed when quoting.

In the Baptist’s reply the entire stress is on his work and office, none on his person. He is merely a voice with a message. The absence of the article with φωνή and also with βοῶντος beautifully recalls the original Hebrew: qol qoreʾ, “voice of a crier!” the two Hebrew words being like an exclamation. In the Greek this absence of the articles emphasizes the idea of each word: the Baptist—a voice—shouting. We need not picture God as the one who uses this voice and shouts. The voice is the speaker’s own, and he does the shouting.

Yet βοῶντος connotes a herald making a public proclamation, which is necessarily done with a loud voice in order to reach the multitudes. This, too, suffices to show that what the Baptist uttered was not his own but the message of one greater and higher than himself.

By thus incorporating the message itself into his reply to the committee the Baptist actually does his work also upon these men, whether he used a loud voice in so doing or not. He is actually calling upon them also to make straight the way of the Lord, Κύριος, Jehovah of the old covenant. He came in Jesus Christ. The figure in Isaiah’s words is that of an oriental king with his retinue for whom the roads are prepared when they are making a royal passage in state. So Christ, now assuming his office, comes. “Such preparation is spiritual. It consists in deep conviction and confession that you are unfit, a sinner, poor, damned, and miserable with all the works you are able to do.” Neither the prophet nor the Baptist are to be understood as intending that men should by their own natural powers make straight the way of the Lord into their hearts, for this would demand the impossible. The power for this spiritual preparation the Baptist himself offered in his preaching and his Baptism, i.e., in these means of grace.

John 1:24

24 With the textual question settled that John Wrote: καὶἀπεσταλμένοιῆ̓σανἐκτῶνΦαρισαίων, various difficulties are removed. We must also note that ἐκτῶνΦαρισαίων is partitive (ἐκ and ἀπό are frequently so used) and the phrase = “some Pharisees,” which may be either the subject or the predicate in a sentence. We must, therefore, translate: And some Pharisees had been commissioned and correct Luther, both of our versions, and the margin of the R. V. “They which were sent,” etc., assumes οἱ before the participle, which reading is that of a faulty text. “Had been commissioned from the Pharisees” or “from among the Pharisees” misconceives the final phrase. John deviates from the genuine Greek idiom and writes in a Jewish way, although what he says is entirely plain. The reference thus is no longer to the committee of priests and Levites sent by the Sanhedrin.

It would be strange, indeed, if after characterizing this committee in v. 19, at this late point a new characterization should be incidentally introduced. The leading men in the Sanhedrin were Sadducees, and it would be remarkable for them to send out a committee composed of Pharisees, especially on a mission relative to the Messiah concerning whom the Sadducees and the Pharisees held different views. The Pharisees were attached to the Rabbis, and we lack any intimation that the priest were Pharisees, on the contrary, being dependent on the high priest and the Sadducees, they very likely followed their lead.

The real situation, then, is that the committee of the Sanhedrin had ended its inquiry and stepped aside. In addition to this committee the Pharisaic party in Jerusalem had sent a representation of its own. These men had stood by while the committee from the Sanhedrin had made its inquiry. When these were through, the Pharisaic representatives speak. The explanation that the men who now speak are Pharisees is necessary for the understanding of the question which they put to the Baptist. They were of the party which laid utmost stress on the strictest outward observance of the law, around which they had also built up a forbidding hedge of traditions and human commandments.

They were utterly self-righteous and cultivated a formalism that was ostentatious to a degree, especially in observing ceremonies, fastings, almsgiving, long prayers, tithes, etc. The Sadducees were freethinkers, skeptics, usually men of wealth and prominence, and given to loose and luxurious living. The people reverenced the Pharisees for their supposed holiness and for their zeal regarding the law; and even the Sadducees had to accomodate themselves to their demands in many ways.

John 1:25

25 The question now asked is one that would naturally occur to Pharisees. While the committee of Sadducees is silent and has nothing more to say, these Pharisees note what seems to them an unauthorized and thus illegal act on the part of the Baptist. And they inquired of him and said to him, Why, then, baptizest thou if thou art not the Christ, neither Elijah, neither the prophet? The condition is one of reality and thus has οὑ as is usual in such conditions in the Koine, R. 1160. The Baptist himself had just acknowledged that he was none of the persons mentioned. Taking him at his word, how, then, dared he baptize?

With οῦ̓ν, “then” or “therefore,” the question is based on the admission all have heard. Incidentally the fact is here brought out that John was engaged in baptizing; the evangelist takes it as a matter of course that his readers know what is necessary to know on this point.

Passages like Ezek. 36:25; 37:23 led the Jews to expect a lustration and cleansing of the people. That this should be accomplished by way of a baptism would seem quite in order. But they expected that it would be the Messiah himself who would thus cleanse the people, and, if not he, then at least his forerunners as they imagined them. When John denied that he was one of these, they naturally asked how, then, he came to be baptizing. Their wrong preconceptions concerning the Messiah’s forerunner blinded them to such an extent that, when they had the real forerunner before their very eyes, they failed to recognize him. In a way this scene with its question to the Baptist resembles the scene in the Temple with its similar question to Jesus 2:18; for in both cases the Jews ask, “On what authority art thou acting?”

John 1:26

26 John answers the Pharisees as readily and as succinctly as he had answered the Sadducees. John answered them, saying, I baptize with water: in your midst stands one whom you yourselves do not know, even he that comes after me, the latchet of whose shoe I am not worthy to unloose. This answer is straight and true. First, by pointing to what he was actually doing, namely baptizing with water, the Baptist clears up and clears away the misconceptions in the minds of his questioners concerning the expected lustrations, which they looked for either from the Messiah or from their expected Elijah or special prophet. This confusion is cleared up if these Pharisees will only observe what the Baptist is actually doing, “I (emphatic) am engaged in baptizing with water.” This “I” is like the one in v. 20 and is set in opposition to another, namely Christ. To baptize with water simply says that John is using a means of grace.

This both marks his person and defines his work. The Messiah will both be a far greater person and will do a far greater work. As the God-man he will redeem the world and will furnish a cleansing that is far beyond any cleansing that any mere man, be he Elijah, that prophet, or the Baptist himself, could provide. Christ’s redemption is the basis of the means of grace. Without this redemption no means of grace would exist. Thus with the simplest kind of statement the Baptist conveys the thought that he is nothing but a man, and that his work consists in applying a means of grace that rests on a far mightier act.

This clears away the confusion that commentators have introduced into the Baptist’s simple words. They are apt to overemphasize ἐνὕδατι. Some stress the preposition in the interest of immersion and do not observe that, even if ἐν were εἰς, immersion would not follow and would not be the point stressed by the Baptist. Some stress “with water” as being opposed to “with the Spirit.” The Baptist has no such contrast here. Where he does have it, as in Matt. 3:11; Mark 1:7; and Luke 3:16, the Baptism with the Spirit is also one with fire. In these passages the simple work of applying a means of grace is contrasted with the miracle of Pentecost, the only instance in which the Spirit and fire are associated.

And this contrast means that all that a person like the Baptist could do in his office was to use a means of grace, to baptize with water, while Christ who would work our redemption could and would crown that work by pouring out the Spirit from on high in a Baptism rightly called one of Spirit and of fire. Thus disappear all derogations of what has been called “water Baptism” with the understanding that this could be only a water ceremony, an empty sign, devoid of power and of grace. These derogations have been applied especially to John’s Baptism, making it a mere ceremony devoid of Spirit, although Mark so clearly says that John preached “the baptism of repentance for the remission of sins,” Mark 1:4; and Luke 3:3 repeats that statement. Such a Baptism, connected with repentance and effecting remission of sins, cannot be conceived without the presence and the gracious operation of the Spirit, John 3:5.

When the Baptist replies, “I baptize with water,” he declares: My work is to apply this means of grace. And this must be taken in connection with the following statement that the Messiah is right “in your midst,” already actually at hand and about to manifest himself. So the Baptist’s first statement also means: I who thus baptize am this Messiah’s true herald and forerunner. Thus all the uncertainty regarding what John meant when he said, “I baptize with water,” disappears, and the full pertinency of his reply comes to view. The questioners referred only to the Baptism not to John’s preaching. Hence the reply also restricts itself to this sacrament.

In reality, as the references to Mark 1:4 and Luke 3:3 show, the preaching and the sacrament go together. The answer John gave to the priests and Levites when he called himself a voice crying in the wilderness, a herald going before his King, must not be forgotten in the present connection. That answer is valid also for the Pharisees. The Baptist preached in order to bring the people to true repentance and to a baptism for the remission of their sins, and he baptized those who were converted by his preaching.

The tense of the verb means, “I am engaged in baptizing.” The preposition ἐν is instrumental and merely indicates the earthly element employed, “with water.” The verb βαπτίζω has a wide range of meaning, denoting any application of water, and it cannot be restricted to immersion. It is traditionalism when the commentators continue to speak of the “plunges beneath the water,” the Vollbad, etc., as being the mode of John’s Baptism. The mode that John used is nowhere indicated, but no single indication points to the mode being that of immersion. The lustrations common in Jewish practice were not administered by complete immersion, many were mere dipping or sprinkling. The πολλὰὕδατα at Ænon, where John also baptized, were springs and rivulets of water. This place was chosen because it afforded good drinking water which is so necessary where many people are gathered together.

The vast multitudes which John baptized during his short ministry could not have been immersed without his living an aquatic life. Clement F. Rogers, M. A., has made an exhaustive study of the original mode of Baptism in the pictorial representations, Baptism and Christian Archaeology, Oxford, Clarendon Press, and has found not one that depicts immersion; even the ancient fonts were shallow, making an immersion impossible. While no one is in a position to say in just what way the Baptist proceeded, the nearest we can come is to say that he took a bunch of hyssop or a twig, dipped it into the water, and then sprinkled those who were to be baptized.

John’s Baptism was the true and complete sacrament, of the same nature and efficacy as our present Baptism. Jesus took up and continued John’s Baptism, 3:22; 4:1, 2, and after his resurrection instituted it for all nations. To consider John’s Baptism as a mere symbol in the face of Mark 1:4 and Luke 3:3 is unwarranted. The remission connected with John’s Baptism cannot denote a future remission but, as surely as the repentance led to the Baptism, a forgiveness then and there. When Jesus speaks to Nicodemus about Baptism, this must refer to John’s Baptism, which makes plain that it had the Holy Spirit and the power of regeneration, for of these Jesus speaks to Nicodemus. None of Christ’s Apostles received a baptism other than that of John, yet Peter who was thus baptized declares that Baptism “saves,” 1 Pet. 3:21.

The baptism referred to in Acts 19:1–7 was invalid because it had been administered not by the Baptist but by faulty disciples of his, who had declined to follow Jesus and had proceeded on their own account and were not even able to teach as much as the existence of the Holy Ghost. What they had received was not Baptism, hence Paul instructed and baptized them—just as we would do today in an analogous case. As far as differences can be indicated: John’s Baptism rested on the preliminary revelation made to John, Christ’s on his own full and complete revelation. John’s made followers of the Christ to come, Christ’s made followers of the Christ who had come. John’s Baptism bestowed the forgiveness about to be bought, Christ’s the forgiveness that had been bought. John’s was thus for Israel alone, Christ’s for all nations.

After clearing up the matter regarding his baptizing John clears up the matter regarding the Messiah and shows how he is connected with this Messiah. His reply may be divided into three statements: 1) Unknown, the Messiah is already in your midst; 2) He is already in the act of coming after me; 3) And he is infinitely great. Thus John more than answers the question put to him. His work is not only legal in the narrow Pharisaic sense, it is legal in a far higher sense and has the stamp of approval from the present Messiah himself.

In μέσος the Greek has an adjective which we are able to produce only by a phrase, “in your own midst,” the pronoun being quite emphatic as it is again in the subject clause. The absence of a connective makes the two statements, the one regarding John himself (ἐγώ) and the one regarding the Messiah, stand out prominently. “Whom you (yourselves, for your part) do not know,” i.e., people like you, is the subject of στήκει a later verb formed from the perfect ἕστηκα, of ἵστημι. “He stands in your very midst” although you do not see or know him as yet while I certainly do, means more than that the Messiah “is” already in their midst. “He stands” means: ready to begin his great Messianic work. These Pharisees, too, will presently “know” him after a fashion; the Pharisaic mind will never really know him.

John 1:27

27 The addition, “even he that comes after me,” modifies the subject clause, “whom you do not know,” but really helps to explain the verb “stands.” This wonderful person stands ready to carry out his great work, and this person is to be John’s great successor, to perform the Messianic task of which John’s work was only the herald. With the Messiah thus on the very point of succeeding John, it is foolish to question his right to baptize, in fact, his right both to preach and to baptize. This close connection between John and the Messiah seals John’s work as being divine. In this testimony of John to Jesus a note of joy and mighty satisfaction throbs. To usher in Jesus—what more blessed task could be assigned to any man! And does anyone question John’s work?

Jesus is its justification and seal. When John tells these Pharisees that they do not know though he does, and that Jesus is on the very point of taking up his great work, he suggests to these men that they on their part should also desire to know him and should ask to have him pointed out to them. But this suggestion falls on deaf ears, after hearing John’s reply they, too, step aside. Even the final statement about the supreme greatness of this wonderful person awakens no response in their hearts.

The participial clause is a duplicate of the one used in v. 15, and it occurs again with a finite verb in 30, showing that the Baptist more than once used it with reference to Jesus. Throughout the verb forms ἐρχόμενος and ἔρχεται are significantly Messianic and must have been so understood by those who heard John speak. This Coming One is vastly greater than John, which shows how seriously mistaken they were who thought John might be he, “the latchet of whose shoe I am not worthy to unloose.” The sandal was fastened to the foot by a leather strap, ἱμάς, “latchet.” When an honored guest or the master of the house himself entered, it was the task of the humblest slave in the house to unfasten the straps, remove the shoes, bathe the feet, and cleanse the shoes. With this imagery John compares himself and Jesus. Did many consider John wonderfully great? He himself says that he is nothing compared with Jesus. Picture Jesus, the Coming One, either as come unto his own (v. 11) as the Master of his own home, or as the most exalted Guest at the home of his nearest kin and friends, the Baptist is not great enough to perform the menial service indicated—John being only a sinful man—Jesus, the very Son of God (v. 34).

In v. 31, etc., John tells us that he himself at first did not know that Jesus was, indeed, the Messiah and Son of God. He had always known Jesus and he may well have had his convictions concerning him. But when he spoke as God’s prophet he had to have more than these. He received more, the fullest revelation through the Father and the Spirit, on the occasion of the baptism of Jesus. This had come to him prior to the arrival of the two delegations from Jerusalem. Constructions like ἄξιος with the non-final ἵνα are quite usual in the Koine, especially in our Gospel. About half of the infinitives are thus crowded out; ἵναλύσω = λῦσαι.

John 1:28

28 The remark is sometimes made that the evangelist fails to finish and round out so many of his narratives, and the present incident is pointed to as a case in point. Yet, what more should the evangelist have added? He is concerned with the testimony which the Baptist uttered concerning the person and the office of Jesus. Most graphically and completely he has recorded the testimony offered on this occasion. What more was there for him to say? The two delegations left, which is rather self-evident. The Baptist went about his business—should that be told? Has anyone this or that curious question he would like to ask? None of the evangelists attempt to answer such questions. John’s first historic incident is surely quite complete.

As in 6:59 and in 8:20, the evangelist mentions the place of the incident at the end of his narrative. Shall we say that this was a way he had? This naming the place of the occurrence seems to be more than an appended piece of information; it sounds as though John recalls the exact locality because the importance of what transpired there impressed him so deeply at the time. These things took place in Bethany beyond the Jordan, where John was, engaged in baptizing. “In Bethany” is the assured reading but the addition “beyond the Jordan” should not be overlooked. The latter phrase is written from the point of view of Palestine proper, the country between the river and the sea. Incidentally this marks the writer of our Gospel as one who was a native of Palestine, who thus thinks of the land east of the Jordan as being “beyond the Jordan.” There is another Bethany near Jerusalem which has the Mount of Olives between it and the city; this was the home of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus.

Origen found the variant reading “in Bethabara” and helped to pass it on; but it cannot be regarded as genuine. This little place cannot now be located, but it lay not in the hot gorge at the riverside but away from this, yet in such a way that from it the river could easily be reached.

It seems, too, that we should not picture the Baptist as camping out in the open in all sorts of weather and in all seasons, or as resorting to some cave beside the river while he was doing his work. The same is true regarding the multitudes. It is more preferable to think that he used a house, and that his disciples did likewise, and that from time to time all went to the river whenever anyone was to be baptized. In 1:38 Jesus who was then with the Baptist has a house as shelter, to which he invited the inquiring disciples of the Baptist. There is no apparent reason why ἦνβαπτίζων should be a circumscribed imperfect which would greatly stress the durative idea of continuous baptizing. It seems more natural to regard ῆ̓ν as the verb, “where John was,” and to regard the participle as modifying “John,” “engaged in baptizing.”

John 1:29

29 The very next day after the appearance of the two delegations the Baptist made a double notable statement concerning Jesus: v. 29–31; 32–34. This was made before his disciples, as we must conclude from 3:26, where John’s disciples refer to this testimony and regard it as something for which Jesus should be grateful. Many others must also have been present, especially people from the neighborhood, as we must conclude from 10:41; for, when a long time after this Jesus again came to this locality, the people there recalled the Baptist’s testimony. Since the evangelist is concerned only with the testimony itself, he adds very little, centering our entire attention upon the Baptist’s words, which certainly also deserve all the attention we are able to bestow. On the morrow he sees Jesus coming towards him and declares, Behold, the Lamb of God, which takes away the sin of the world. Since this occurred on the very next day, the place must also be the same.

We may picture the Baptist somewhere in the neighborhood of the village in the midst of his work. John’s record is strictly historical. He uses two finite verbs: John “sees” and “declares,” instead of reducing the first verb to a participle: he “seeing … declares.” He would lay equal stress on the two actions. The two present tenses are the dramatic present, reckoned, however, as aorist in force since they intend to record only the fact of the actions, although in a realistic and vivid way, as if the reader were witnessing what transpires. These tenses are touches in the narrative which make us feel John’s deep personal interest: as he writes “sees” and “declares” the entire action is before him although it lies decades in the past.

Only the fact of Jesus’ approach is mentioned, for this much is needed for the Baptist’s words, who could not well say, “Behold, the Lamb,” etc., unless Jesus were near. The surmise that Jesus was coming to be baptized is incorrect, for the Baptist’s testimony on the previous day rests on the revelation that immediately followed Jesus’ baptism. Likewise the surmise that Jesus was coming to say farewell; for he remained the entire following day, v. 35. Most likely the purpose of his coming was to win disciples, for this is what he actually did as the following episode shows. The present participle pictures Jesus as he gradually comes toward the Baptist. While he is busy with his work the Baptist looks up and sees Jesus coming, βλέπει indicating a momentary glance with the impression it registers (not ὁρᾷ, indicating comprehension and activity of the mind).

While Jesus is still a way off, these words fall from the Baptist’s lips while, as we may suppose, his outstretched arm indicates the approaching figure. They are deathless words, after all those years that intervened before John places them in his Gospel still freighted with meaning infinitely richer than the mind of John grasped at the moment when these words first fell upon his ears and penetrated to his heart.

The imperatival interjection “Behold!” is dramatic, pointing out Jesus, riveting all eyes upon him, opening all ears for what the speaker will say of him. Here we have a sample of the perfect reproduction of the words originally spoken. After all the intervening year the evangelist might have reproduced the Baptist’s words in a much cooler form. Indelibly impressed upon his heart, where the Spirit kept them unchanged, he records them exactly as they were spoken. “The Lamb of God,” ὁἀμνὸςτοῦΘεοῦ, with its significant article point out Jesus as the one particular Lamb of God, the Lamb in the most eminent sense of the word. Compare “the prophet” in v. 21 and similar uses of the Greek article. The genitive is a true possessive: the Lamb which belongs to God, his Lamb, i.e., which he ordained as a sacrifice for himself.

This is far better than to make the genitive: the Lamb which comes from God (origin), or which God presents to the world. The word “Lamb” connotes sacrifice, the Lamb whose blood is to be shed. Thus also and especially in the full title, “Lamb of God,” lies the idea of being without blemish, i.e., sinlessness, and joined with this the divine purpose and aim of substitution, expiation, and redemption. A truer and more expressive title could hardly have been found for the Savior; he was, indeed, “the Lamb of God.” In his Westminster Sermons Trench has well said, the Baptist’s title for Jesus should not be referred back to this or that particular “lamb” mentioned in the Old Testament rituals, but rather to all of them, since each could typify and illustrate prophetically only some part of the stupendous work God’s own Lamb would perform.

The attributive participle describes this Lamb, “which takes away the sin of the world.” The present tense ὁαἴρων is frequently used to furnish a characterization of a person: this is the kind of a Lamb Jesus is. The verb itself may mean either “to take up and bear” or “to take away,” “to remove.” For the latter compare John 11:48; 15:2; 17:15; 19:31 and 38, passages which show that this meaning is beyond doubt. If the meaning “to take up,” “to bear,” is preferred, the force of the present tense would be peculiar: the Lamb in the act of taking up. Something would have to be supplied, namely, the very thought brought out by the other meaning. For this Lamb will not again lay down its burden, will not carry its burden indefinitely, but will take it completely away. So we correct Luther’s version traegt and abide by our English versions, “taketh away.” Nor is it necessary to make ὁαἴρων a timeless present, one that indicates only the quality of the action irrespective of the time that may be involved.

Cases occur in which the time feature practically disappears. But here Jesus at this very moment is engaged in removing the sin of the world. He had just assumed this burden by assuming the office of mediation at his baptism; and his baptism itself signifies that, though he is sinless himself, he ranges himself alongside of sinners to take on himself and bear away the load they never could bear.

The thing to be taken away is named “the sin of the world,” τὴνἁμαρτίαντοῦκόσμου (world of men). This is one of those great collective singulars, so easily pronounced by the lips without proper comprehension by the mind. The idea is that of a mass, all sins as one great body are called “sin,” una pestis, quae omnes corripuit, Bengel. Like most of the terms for sin, this term, too, is negative, “missing the mark,” i.e., the one set by the divine law, missing it by thought, word, or deed, yea, by our very condition which is corrupt by nature. As many men as there have been, are now, and will be in the world, each with his daily life stained with many sins, so many individual masses of sin are formed, and all these masses are combined in one supermass, “the sin of the world.” Isa. 53: “He laid on him the iniquity of us all” … “for the transgression of my people was he stricken” … “thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin” … “he bare the sin of many.” We may unfold this collective by taking the law and dwelling on all the many kinds, types, forms, and effects of sin. Again we may set forth the deadly, damning power of a single sin, and then multiply this power a million fold and again a million fold.

Yet we should not make the rather specious—merely abstract—distinction between the “sin” itself and the “guilt” of sin, for sin exists nowhere apart from its guilt, and guilt nowhere apart from its sin. The same is true with regard to “sin” and its “consequences.” As the guilt inheres in the sin, so the consequences stick to the sin, closer than a shadow. Neither the guilt nor the consequences are taken away, really taken away, unless the sin itself is taken away. With the sin also its guilt and consequences are cancelled. “World” means the universe of men from Adam onward to the last babe born just before the judgment breaks. “That taketh away the sin of the world” includes the entire work of Christ, especially and most directly his sacerdotal work, his active and his passive obedience.

It is idle and nearly always misleading” to ask regarding the Baptist or regarding his disciples, to what extent they comprehended the testimony here uttered. The Baptist spoke by revelation, he uttered thoughts which towered above his own mind. They still tower above ours although we now have the full New Testament light. And yet, as in the case of Simeon, Anna, and the long line of Old Testament prophets (Isa. 52:15; 42:6, 7; 49:6, 7), the Baptist uttered no empty sounds as far as his own mind and heart were concerned, no riddles or enigmas without key or solution, but glorious truth which his own mind beheld as truth, absorbed and penetrated more and more, in which his own heart trusted with ever-increasing joy. One thing is certain, that the Baptist understood his own words far more perfectly than many who are today regarded as great theological leaders and interpreters in the church. Nor should it be thought that the evangelist here puts his own later thoughts into the Baptist’s mouth. The Baptist’s word to his disciples is not treated as a thing unheard of, an impossible extravagance; it does not repel but attracts these men to follow Jesus as being, indeed, the Lamb of God.

The Baptist’s word has passed into the confessions of the church, also into the catechisms for instruction, as one of the clearest proofs for the universality of the atonement and the redemption. It has likewise passed into all her devotional literature, especially also into her hymns for public worship: “O Christ, thou Lamb of God” (Agnus Dei) in the Communion service; “Lamb of God, O Jesus”; “Lamb of God, without blemish”; “A Lamb bears all the guilt away”; “Lamb of God, we fall before thee”; “Not all the blood of beasts”; endless other incidental references, often combined with the thoughts of Rev. 5:6; 13:8; 12:11; 22:1. Luther: “Sin has but two places where it may be; either it may be with you, so that it lies upon your neck, or upon Christ, the Lamb of God. If now it lies upon your neck, you are lost; if, however, it lies upon Christ, you are free and will be saved. Take now whichever you prefer.”

John 1:30

30 This is he of whom I said, After me cometh a man who is become before me, for he was first compared with me. This paradoxical description with its solution is identical with v. 15 and is here recorded in its historical setting, whereas in v. 15 it is quoted merely for the sake of its thought. The verbal variations are only formal: ἐστίν for ῆ̓ν, for Jesus is now present in person; ἔρχεταιἀνήρὅς for the masculine ὁἐρχόμενος. Here is a beautiful example of what Verbal Inspiration really means. It is not a reproduction of so many letters, syllables, and Woerter, but a reproduction in which every word and expression are true to the intent and the thought of the divine Spirit. It is not mechanical but dynamic, living, and hence free in form; but never imperfect, inadequate, or faulty, but inerrant in every expression. The exposition of this verse is found under v. 15.

John 1:31

31 All that follows in v. 31–34 is really one piece which forms the full and complete answer to the question that would naturally arise in the minds of the Baptist’s hearers as to how he could be so sure of the great things he was saying about Jesus. This certainty he did not have of himself, but being the chosen instrument through whom God purposed to make Jesus manifest to Israel, the great revelation was granted to him which establishes the certainty forever. And that, too, is why the evangelist recorded the Baptist’s testimony regarding the revelation to him and regarding the resultant certainty for him. This record is more than a recital of the history of Jesus’ baptism; it is the Baptist’s own exposition of that history, showing what it meant for him. And I knew him not, but that he should be made manifest to Israel, for this came I baptizing with water. Twice the Baptist freely admits, “I knew him not,” which in its connection means, “him” in his divine greatness.

The Baptist had known Jesus personally since childhood and may have had his own personal convictions regarding who Jesus really was. All this is here brushed aside, for a prophet’s certainty must come from a higher source, from one that is beyond all question. We may note the three successive κἀγώ, “and I,” here and in v. 33 and 34. For none of them we need “even I,” since ἐγώ is emphatic enough, and “even” would introduce a comparison where none is intended. While ἤδειν is pluperfect in form, it is one of those forms in which the durative idea alone is left and thus is used exactly like the imperfect: all along in the past the Baptist was without the knowledge that was eventually vouchsafed to him in such a wonderful manner.

But the Baptist could not be left in this ignorance and uncertainty, for God had sent him as the Messiah’s forerunner in order to make the Messiah known to Israel. The absolute certainty regarding who and what the Messiah was thus had to be given to the Baptist. Thus ἀλλά = “but” in the sense of aber (not sondern, Luther), it is an ordinary adversative not one in contrast with a preceding negative. The ἵνα clause is placed forward for emphasis and is made doubly emphatic by the summary of it in διὰτοῦτο: for this very reason that he should be made manifest did John come baptizing. The aorist φανερωθῇ denotes a purpose actually accomplished not one merely attempted. The verb itself is defined by what the following verses relate: the Baptist was granted the experience to see and to know who Jesus really was, and through the Baptist this knowledge and certainty was to be communicated “to Israel.” This is the course followed by God throughout: chosen witnesses are granted undoubted revelations, and their testimony communicates these revelations to the world.

Our entire Gospel constitutes such a communication; it consists entirely of such testimony. Note “we beheld” in v. 14; “John bears witness” in v. 15; “this is the witness of John” in v. 19; “and says” in v. 29. God’s way is not to the liking of many: instead of answering the divinely offered testimony which makes Jesus manifest as he actually is by ready and joyous faith, they dictate some other way to God, treat his testimony accordingly, and end in a maze of false “certainties.” Behind the passive “should be made manifest” is the agent of the action, God. The correlative of “to manifest” or “to make manifest” is “faith” on the part of those who receive the manifestation.

Though Jesus as the Lamb of God takes away the sin of the world, the Baptist’s mission was restricted to Israel, and his task was to make Jesus manifest only to his own nation. But this in the sense that Israel was to be only the first to know him; God had his own way for making Jesus manifest to all nations both by other witnesses and by using the Baptist’s witness through these others, even as it is here used for the wide world through the evangelist. The verb “came,” trat auf, is the same as in v. 7 and denotes coming on a mission, but here ἐγώ makes the subject emphatic like οὗτος in v. 7, “I,” whom God chose for this great purpose. The fact that the Baptist’s mission is referred to is evident from the addition, “baptizing with water.” The way in which the participle is added to the verb “came”: “came baptizing,” parallels v. 28, “was John baptizing.” This addition, “baptizing with water,” does nothing more than to describe the distinctive feature of the Baptist’s mission as the one to prepare the way for Jesus, as has been shown at length in connection with v. 26, “I baptize with water.” The repetition of this expression in our verse fortifies the interpretation given in v. 26. It is out of line in these connections to regard “with water” as being in contrast with “with the Spirit,” or to think that “with water” means “with nothing but water.” The Baptist was commissioned to use this mode of lustration as an actual and an efficacious cleansing necessary for all Israelites who would receive their Savior by true faith.

John 1:32

32 In one respect v. 29, 30 stand out as a testimony by itself. So also v. 32–34. But the two are linked together by v. 31, so that what is said in v. 29, 30 rests on what is attested in v. 32–34. All that is contained in v. 29–34 was spoken at one time. The reason the evangelist inserts a little preamble in v. 32 is merely to emphasize that what now follows is the testimony that comes from the Baptist’s own lips and constitutes the ultimate basis of all that he attested concerning Jesus. That, too, is why the verb ἐμαρτύρησεν is placed emphatically before the subject, “He bore witness,” this man John, “when he said” what follows.

The ὅτι is recitativum, the equivalent of our quotation marks. And John bore witness, saying, I have beheld the Spirit descending as a dove out of heaven, and he remained upon him. The verb τεθέαμαι, one of the extensive perfects loved by the evangelist and well explained by R. 893, pictures what the Baptist beheld some time ago, when he had baptized Jesus, as a vision that is still before his eyes. The act is past and could prosaically be recorded by the aorist, “I did behold”; but this act was so effective that a “continuance of the completed action” may be predicated of it; hence this highly vivid perfect; compare another in v. 41. The verb denotes here, as well as in v. 14, a beholding filled with wonder and astonishment.

It is surely remarkable with what clearness and definiteness τὸΠνεῦμα, the Third Person of the God-head, is thus early named by the Baptist before his disciples and before the people in general without the addition of an explanatory remark. They seem to know who is referred to. No one raises a question. The same is true regarding ὁυἱὸςτοῦΘεοῦ in v. 34. The account of the other evangelists adds the detail that the Father was speaking from heaven and calling Jesus his Son. Those who deny that the Old Testament revealed the Trinity to the Jews, or who claim that it revealed the Trinity only dimly and imperfectly, have no explanation for the way in which the Baptist names the persons of the Godhead as being fully known to his Jewish hearers.

Whence had they such knowledge? Later on the Jews object only to the fact that the insignificant looking Jesus calls himself God’s Son and never raise the issue that God is but one person and not three. The old Jews must have read their Testament with clear eyes. As for the Baptist, he even “has beheld the Spirit.”

There is no need to speculate as to how fully the Baptist grasped the reality of the three divine persons, as though the measure of his personal perception in any way might limit what he uttered by revelation. We ourselves utter many mighty natural facts, the full inner nature of which is not known to us. To rate the Baptist’s personal knowledge low is unfair to this man of God. Because of his very nature the Spirit is invisible, but God never had difficulty when he wished to appear to the fathers. So here we are told how the Baptist could behold the Spirit by the participial modifier, “descending as a dove out of heaven,” for which Luke has, “in a bodily form as a dove.” Both the form and the descent were visible to the Baptist’s eyes. The verb, “I have beheld,” like the same verb in v. 14, cannot mean merely an inner beholding with the mind or the soul, an ecstatic vision, or anything else that excludes perception by the natural sense of sight.

We are not told that the Baptist saw “a dove”; what he saw was “as a dove,” a bodily form, indeed, but one that was “as” a dove. How did the Baptist know that this descending form was the Spirit? This was not his own surmise but the miracle announced to him in advance by his divine Sender, who thus not only prepared the Baptist for the miracle but gave him in advance the full significance of the miracle, v. 33. This, by the way, is always God’s method: any special revelation he is pleased to make to a chosen witness is by God himself put beyond all doubt for that witness.

The question is constantly raised, “Why this form for the Spirit?” Luther’s answer is: “God the Holy Spirit comes in a friendly form, as an innocent dove, which of all birds is the most friendly and has no wrath and bitterness in it; as a sign that he would not be angry with us but desires to help us through Christ, that we may become godly and be saved.” Others point to purity, innocence, and meekness as being symbolized by the dove. It is easy to run into all kinds of fancies by picking up cues here and there regarding the term “dove.” Gen. 1:3 is the only place in which an expression somewhat analogous occurs concerning the Holy Ghost. We may content ourselves by saying that the dovelike form intended to convey the idea of the graciousness of God’s Spirit. The present participle καταβαῖνον describes the act of coming down in its progress, and what occurred when the dovelike form reached Jesus is then added, “and he abode upon him.” The phrase “from heaven,” without the Greek article, is as definite as our English equivalent (R. 792), and John always has the singular “heaven” (408). The grammarians (R. 440; B.-D. 468, 3) note that in v. 33 two participles are used, “descending and abiding upon him,” whereas in our verse we have, “descending, and he abode upon him.” This change from the participle to a finite verb is usually explained as a desire to make the narrative more lively, or to turn the second action into a statement uttered by the Baptist. But the two participles are as beautiful and vivid as they well can be, and all that is said is stated by the Baptist.

The difference is that in v. 33 the two durative present participles, “descending and abiding,” are brought to a point of rest by the clause, “this is he,” etc., i.e., conviction for the Baptist of the identity of Jesus. While in our verse the durative “descending” comes to rest in the finite punctiliar aorist, “and he did remain upon him,” which leaves the matter at an end. This is the grammatical solution. In both cases we have what the Baptist saw. How long the dovelike form remained upon Jesus, who can say, and why should we ask? To strain ἐπʼ αὑτον because of the accusative is unwarranted, since this case occurs also with verbs of rest.

All figurative interpretations of the dove must be rejected. Likewise, the view that an ordinary dove happened to circle over Jesus’ head and flew down toward him. Equally to be rejected are the ideas of two kinds of vision, one of the senses and one of the spirit, namely, that what Jesus and the Baptist beheld was seen in the spirit and was only symbolized for their eyes (and ears, viz., the Father’s speaking from heaven). As the shepherds actually saw and heard the angels, so the Baptist and Jesus (no reference occurs to any others as being present) saw and heard what here occurred when the Spirit came down and the Father spoke from above.

John 1:33

33 God told the Baptist in advance what he was about to behold and in advance informed him regarding the full meaning of what he should thus behold. This, too, the Baptist states in his testimony. And I knew him not; but he that sent me to baptize with water, he said to me, Upon whom thou shalt see the Spirit descending and remaining upon him, this is he that baptizes with the Holy Ghost. The Baptist’s testimony deals only with his own official interest in the wonderful event he witnessed, because his great Sender made this interest vital for him. Hence he says nothing concerning what the Spirit’s bestowal meant for Jesus and his work; it is enough that this bestowal points out Jesus to him as the Messiah, shows him the divine greatness of Jesus, and indicates to him the Messianic climax of Jesus’ work.

So he again states that before this time he did not know “him,” i.e., that Jesus actually was the Messiah (see the comment on v. 31). God himself removed this uncertainty: I did not know him, God did and made him known to me in a way that was beyond all doubt. If one should be bold enough to ask why God did not simply tell the Baptist, “Jesus is the one,” since he spoke to the Baptist; the answer is evident: God desired to do more than merely to point out the person, for which a word would have sufficed; he desired to display to the Baptist the divine character, the divine qualification, and the final saving act of Jesus as the Messiah. God is described as “he that sent me to baptize with water,” the substantivized aorist participle characterizing God by means of the one act of sending. But this designation connects what God now does with God’s original act of commissioning the Baptist. Just as the Baptist once received his mission, so he now receives this vital communication during his mission.

Just as he accepted that original mission and labored in it, so he now accepts this communication and uses it. “To baptize with water” means exactly what it does in v. 26 and v. 31: to use this means of grace in preparing Israel for the coming of the Savior. When it happened that God spoke to the Baptist is not intimated; we cannot even conjecture how long the interval lasted between the divine communication and the event which it foretold. How God spoke to the Baptist is also left untold, although we know that God is never at a loss to find ways of making known to his servants what he desires; he has many ways.

John quotes his Sender’s words verbatim, “Upon whom thou shalt see,” etc. As far as firsthand competent testimony is concerned, this as well as all else that the Baptist states meets every test. The modal ἄν may be absent in the Koine, and when it is used with a relative it may also be ἐάν. The futuristic subjunctive implies that presently the Baptist shall see even as he did. On the two participles “descending and remaining” we have already said what is needed in v. 32. Since the relative phrase “upon whom” cannot well be repeated with the second participle, the pronoun is used instead, “and remaining upon him,” R. 724.

The resumptive and emphatic οὗτος (see v. 2) picks up the full description of the subject, to which the predicate is then added. Since this is a substantivized participle, it needs the article in the Greek: This is “the one baptizing with the Holy Ghost.”

Here baptizing with water and baptizing with the Holy Spirit form a kind of contrast, although only incidentally, as John states the features of his humbler mission, and as God himself states the supreme mission of his Son Jesus. The Baptist is called to administer that means of grace which employs water, Jesus will eventually miraculously pour out the Holy Spirit to carry on his saving work in all the world. The Baptist can only begin the great work and do only part of it, only assist to prepare men for the great Savior and for receiving the benefit of his supreme work. Jesus will perform the mighty work, and when redemption has been won, he will make this redemption accessible to all men by sending the Spirit to make this redemption their own. The commentary on our passage is Acts 1:5, “For John truly baptized with water; but ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost, and not many days hence,” namely on the day of Pentecost, Acts 2; and the extension of this in Acts 11:16, the case of Cornelius and his relatives. None but the Messiah could baptize in this manner, and this Baptism with the Holy Ghost, once accomplished, cannot be repeated. The crucifixion and the resurrection, and the Spirit’s outpouring, because of their very nature cannot be repeated.

In John’s statement the major emphasis should not be placed on the two phrases “with water” and “with the Holy Spirit,” thus making John’s Baptism devoid of the Spirit and changing Jesus’ act into something that is not suggested by the words. Let us note that all the faith and the godliness found in the Old Testament was wrought by the Spirit. All that the Baptist did by his preaching and his Baptism when he brought men to μετάνοιαεἰςἄφεσινἁμαρτιῶν (Luke 3:3) was wrought by the Spirit, for no true repentance and no real remission is possible apart from him. But until the day of Pentecost this work of the Spirit was limited, and that in two ways: in extent, it did not yet apply to the whole world; hence also in its nature, it was waiting for and pointing forward to the promised redemption to be accomplished in the great work of the Savior. Finally the miraculous Baptism with the Holy Ghost and fire took place on Pentecost, and now all restrictions were removed, the Spirit would now work among all nations and in all languages, Acts 2:8, etc., and would now make known all the revelation Jesus had brought. Since Pentecost the Spirit, once poured out, flows on and on through the world in the blessed stream of the means of grace.

He is present and works with all his power wherever the Word is truly preached, wherever the two Sacraments are administered according to Christ’s institution. Through the Word and the Sacraments the Spirit is given, and through these means alone. Through these means we today receive the Baptism of the Spirit. There is no other “Baptism by the Spirit.” It is utterly impossible for any soul to come into contact with the Spirit save through these means. By these means he works regeneration, conversion, justification, and sanctification. No sudden seizure by the Spirit without these means takes place; no total instantaneous “sanctification” is thus wrought; no “second blessing” is bestowed.

These views and their products are pathological human autosuggestions that may seem spiritual but lack the Spirit. In v. 33 we have only “Spirit,” but here the full title “Holy Spirit” is used.

John 1:34

34 The Baptist rounds out and completes his testimony by a final statement. And I have seen and have witnessed that this is the Son of God. As one who himself saw, the Baptist is a competent witness. He did not merely see, God enlightened him in advance in regard to what he came to see, which makes his witness competent in the highest degree, for he saw with eyes enlightened by God’s own revelation. The two perfect tenses are again extensive perfects as in v. 32, “I have seen,” and the vision is still before my eyes as though I were still seeing; “I have witnessed,” and my testimony stands as though I kept giving it continuously. Again ἐγώ is emphatic, “I,” whom God chose for this purpose. The verb is varied from that used in v. 32: θεάομαι, “to behold” with a long look of wonder and astonishment; but now ὁράω, “see” with understanding and comprehension.

This meaning of the verb is matched by the object in the ὅτι clause which, of course, belongs to both verbs. What the Baptist “beheld” he states in v. 32; what he “saw” in what he thus beheld and what accordingly he testified he now states, “that this is the Son of God.” This, however, is not a deduction made by the Baptist, one which we should thus feel we must test for ourselves before we accept it. In this summary the Baptist repeats what the Father’s voice declared from heaven, “This is my Son beloved, in whom I was well pleased,” ὁυἱόςμουὁἀγαπητός, Matt. 3:17. Here the Baptist corroborates the evangelist’s “God Only-begotten,” v. 18, and agrees with all the other evangelists who make the attestation in the same connection. All efforts to reduce the term “the Son of God” to something less than essential Sonship, something less than “very God of very God” (Nicene Creed), by the contention that this title is one of the outworn ancient “categories of thought” beyond which we moderns have progressed, are less than Arianism and its allied denials and are but the old rationalism garbed in a somewhat modern dress. Since the Baptist quotes God himself when calling Jesus “the Son of God,” the plea that this is an outworn category of thought makes the charge that the Eternal is guilty of using such a category. The other alternative is that the Gospel records themselves are false, and that God never called Jesus “my Son.” The further comments made in connection with v. 32 on “the Spirit,” in regard to the Baptist’s own understanding of his words and in regard to the Jews and their knowledge regarding the Three Persons of the Godhead from the Old Testament, apply here as well as in v. 32.

Be placing the name “the Son of God” last the evangelist brings this testimony of the Baptist to a grand climax. All along the evangelist presumes that his readers know the historical fact of the baptism of Jesus and of the outpouring of the Spirit upon Jesus, as well as Luke’s account of the Pentecost miracle. Hence these histories are not retold, nor are any new features of these histories brought forward by the evangelist. The great thing he does in the present record is to bring to our attention in the testimony made once for all by the Baptist the essential reality that stands out for all time, unchanged and unchangeable, in what occurred at the river Jordan when Jesus came unto John.

John 1:35

35 On the morrow again John was standing and two of his disciples. The three datives of time “on the morrow,” τῇἐπαύριον (ἡμέρᾳ), which head three consecutive paragraphs, are all alike, each refers to the day that immediately succeeds the one mentioned before. To insert one or more other days at any point between these “morrows” is without warrant. When John here adds “again” he means to say that in a manner what the Baptist said on this day is a repetition of what he said on the day before. Here was the Baptist “again” standing in a prominent place and “again” proclaiming Jesus as the Lamb of God. The pluperfect form ἱστήκει (also written εἱστήκει) is like the similar form in v. 31 (which see), an imperfect in meaning, and while here it is coordinated with the following λέγει, it is after all circumstantial, since the chief thing is not the standing but the testimony here once more uttered by the Baptist. The finite form “was standing” makes this action more prominent than a mere participle would do.

In a simple way the person of “John” is distinguished in the scene here sketched, namely by placing the verb first and by using the singular and by placing the Baptist’s name immediately after it. Two other persons, not yet named, also “were standing,” but they are secondary as compared with the Baptist, hence are merely added, “and two of his disciples,” ἐκ in the partitive sense in place of the genitive. Not incidentally, say somewhere along the path over which these three had come, did the Baptist repeat his great testimony concerning Jesus; no, he waited until he reached the spot where he had made this proclamation on the day before. There he once more “stood” as the great herald of the Messiah. We must not miss the impressiveness of what the verb conveys. This, too, is a touch that marks the writer as an eyewitness. Other details, such as what the Baptist was doing at this time, are irrelevant.

John 1:36

36 Now comes the chief feature: the Baptist looks up, sees Jesus walking some little distance away, and at once solemnly repeats his testimony of the day before. And he looked upon Jesus as he was walking and declares, Behold, the Lamb of God. The aorist participle ἐμβλέψας merely records the fact, and the dative object is regular with this compound verb. The Savior is described as “walking.” That is different from the scene of yesterday when Jesus came directly to the Baptist, v. 29. We have no intimation that the participle “as he was walking” is meant in a figurative sense: engaged in his calling. Jesus, indeed, had assumed his office and Savior work, yet the mere statement of his walking imparts nothing on that point.

We are not even told whence he came or in what direction he was going. We may surmise from what follows that he was proceeding to the place where he lodged at this time. What had brought him close to the Baptist’s preaching place we cannot say, except that the whole narrative shows, that he was ready to gather the first disciples about him—that at least is what he actually began to do on this memorable day. Thus the Baptist looked upon Jesus as he was walking and, seeing him, “declares.” The tense is the present, he was walking and, seeing him, “declares.” The tense is the present, λέγει, explained in connection with v. 29. The Baptist’s words still sound in his ears although they were spoken decades ago.

The words themselves, “Behold, the Lamb of God,” are identical with those of the day before and, although they stop short with this exclamation, evidently intend to recall the fuller statement of the previous day. Still more must be said. The full testimony of the previous day was addressed to all those present, all of the Baptist’s disciples (3:26) and the multitude (10:41); see v. 29. The situation is now different. Only two of the Baptist’s disciples are present, and thus this renewed testimony is directly addressed to them. They have had time to meditate on what they heard yesterday.

Perhaps they had begun to feel what lay in the words as far as they were personally concerned. If Jesus was the Messiah, if their own master, the Baptist, attested him as the Messiah and that by divine revelation, then they must follow that Messiah. Did not the call to do that lie in the very first announcement of their master? And now the word is repeated—in a brief, pointed, almost challenging manner, “Behold, the Lamb of God!” Now it did penetrate. Some think that others besides the two disciples were present, but the record has no trace of others. These two, personally addressed by their master, at once proceed to act.

Their master had rendered them the very highest service: he had given them God’s call to follow Jesus.

The exposition of the words “Behold, the Lamb of God!” is found under v. 29.

John 1:37

37 And the two disciples heard him speak and they followed Jesus. Two simple aorists record the great facts. Here is an example of the Word rightly heard. And why speak or think of man’s natural powers when the Word is present with its efficacious power of grace? When the Baptist uttered the same words on the previous day, these two disciples also heard and yet they did not act. It is idle to speculate; yet we may recall in our own case how we, too, often need a second or a third invitation. Verbs of hearing are followed by the genitive to indicate the person heard, while the thing heard is placed in the accusative. Faith comes by hearing, Rom. 10:17. There is but one right answer to the truth—faith.

“They followed Jesus” here, of course, means that the two disciples left the Baptist where he was standing and started to walk after Jesus. This was exactly what the Baptist desired, “He must increase, but I must decrease,” 3:30. Yet beneath this obvious outward meaning lies a hint of something more. We know to what this following led in their case, and how the very word was afterward used by Jesus himself when calling men to discipleship, v. 43. “They followed Jesus,” thereafter never to turn from him.

John 1:38

38 They surely did not go very far until, in John’s simple way of telling it, Jesus turned and spoke to them. Now Jesus, having turned and having beheld them following, says to them, What are you seeking? And they said to him, Rabbi (which is to say, when interpreted, Teacher), ‘where art thou staying? The minor actions of turning and of beholding are expressed by participles, and their aorist tense indicates merely the fact and the thought that it preceded the speaking. After θεασάμενος the accusative pronoun and its present participle: having beheld “them following,” is altogether regular. How aoristic λέγει is we see in the sequence: λέγει (present) … εῖ̓πον (aorist) … λέγει (again present). We might well translate, “he said … they said … he said.” On this aoristic present see v. 29.

The Baptist urges these two men to go to Jesus, and Jesus opens his arms to receive them. Jesus first speaks to them who might have been too timid themselves to address him. Since their following him shows that they seek him, Jesus does not inquire whom they seek but, “What are you seeking?” This first word spoken by Jesus is a master question. It bids them look searchingly at their inmost longings and desires. “We are accustomed to seek what we have lost, or what otherwise is beneficial or desirable for us. But what was there more desirable, more longed for during forty centuries past on the part of so many illustrious men, the patriarchs, judges, kings, prophets, and all the saints of the Old Testament, than this Lamb of God, which John’s testimony on the heights between the Old and the New Testament declared to be present at last?” Calov. Many are seeking what they should not, and others are not seeking what they should.

Let us, too, face this question of Jesus in order that we may cast out all self-seeking, all seeking of ease in Zion, all worldy ambition even in churchly things, all unworthy aims, and rise to the height of our calling both as believers and as the called servants of the Lord, and let us help to confront others with this same question that they, too, may find in Jesus what he came to bring. For a hidden promise lies in the question, “What are you seeking?” Jesus has the highest treasure any man can seek, longs to direct our seeking toward that treasure in order that he may bestow it for our everlasting enrichment. Note how this verb “seek” corresponds to the verb “we have found” in v. 41 and 45.

The answer of the disciples is a question, “Rabbi, where art thou staying?” They address Jesus with the usual respectful title given to Jewish teachers. The Hebrew rab, an adjective meaning “much, great, mighty,” was made a title: Oberster or “Master,” the Greek equivalent for the honoring title “Teacher” (margin, R. V.). By a parenthetical relative clause John himself interprets the Hebrew title for his Greek readers and retains the vocative, though it is the predicate: Διδάσκαλε, R. 416, 432, 465. With the Hebrew suffix for “my” we have rabbi or rabbei, although this possessive was hardly more than formal. Jesus accepts this title even to the last, as we see in 13:13, although Κύριος, “Lord,” soon came to be used more frequently by his disciples.

The two disciples of the Baptist do not venture to use a title derived from their own master’s designation of Jesus as “the Lamb of God” or “the Son of God,” v. 34. These designations certainly had their illuminating effect upon them and yet were not of a kind to lend themselves to personal address in conversation. In the question, “Where art thou staying?” lies the desire to have a private, undisturbed conversation with Jesus regarding the high thoughts and hopes which had begun to stir their hearts. One cannot say whether they expected to confer with Jesus at once or meant merely to find out where he lodged in order to meet him later. They probably intended to leave that to Jesus.

John 1:39

39 They are invited at once. He says to them, Come, and ye shall see. They came, accordingly, and saw where he stayed; and they stayed with him that day. The hour was about the tenth. Jesus places himself and the humble place where he lodges at their service without delay. This readiness is generous on his part and kind and satisfying for them.

There never was a time when Jesus was not eager to satisfy hearts that truly sought his blessings. His answer is, “Come, and you shall see.” They would have been happy if Jesus had said, “Come tomorrow or the next day and see me.” But he opens the door to them on the instant just as if he had been waiting for them. Kings and the great men of the earth hedge themselves about with servants and ceremony, so that it is difficult to reach them and get speech with them; one must arrange an interview in advance to secure audience at all. Nothing is easier than to get an audience from the King of kings at once.

The words are exceedingly simple—just a kind invitation, “Come!” and a promise attached, “And you shall see.” But what significance lies in these few words! “Come!” meant, of course, to the lodging of Jesus; yet who that knows Jesus fails to read in this gentle imperative something of the meaning of those other invitations by which Jesus bade those that labor and are heavy laden to come unto him—to come from sin, from the world, from darkness, misery, damnation—unto him, unto pardon, peace, rest, and salvation? The present imperative ἔρχεσθε is here linked with the volitive future ὄψεσθε, which not only has some imperative force (R. 875) but even more, the note of assurance. To be sure, if the disciples would come, they would see the little place where Jesus stayed. But their desire went far beyond seeing this place. The entire conversation deals with deeper things. “You shall see” means: the place where you can speak to me and learn from me and about me all that prompts your hearts to follow me. The promise is broad, but the sequel shows that it was fully redeemed. We have an echo of this invitation and promise of Jesus in Philip’s word to Nathanael, “Come and see!” v. 46.

Two simple historical aorists report the next facts, “They came, accordingly, and saw where he stayed,” μένει, literally, as the Greek idiom requires, “where he stays.” This was, perhaps, a house in a nearby hamlet or in Bethany itself, v. 28; or a temporary booth of wattles, covered, perhaps, with the striped aba, the usual cloth worn in the east (Farrar, The Life of Christ). To come—to see—to abide with Jesus has well been called an epitome of the entire Christian life. Another aorist completes the story, “and they stayed with him that day,” the accusative of the extent of time. The prolonged stay is eloquent regarding the impression made on the heart of John and of his companion when they sat together with the Savior for the first time. We at once feel that these words relate one of John’s experiences. Let us remember that they came from close association with another great master, the Baptist, the last great prophet of God whose disciples they had been and with whom they would inevitably compare Jesus.

They had now found a greater—him of whom the Baptist had prophesied. Who would not like to know all that was said in that long interview in the humble lodging of Jesus? We know only the immediate effect: they could hardly tear themselves away, they remained the rest of the day. Then must have begun what John records in v. 14, “We beheld his glory, glory as of the Only-begotten, from the Father.”

“The hour was about the tenth”—an incidental remark but one that is significant regarding the importance John attached to this meeting with Jesus and evidence that he himself wrote this Gospel. That hour shone bright in his memory until his dying day. But what point of time does the evangelist mean by “the tenth” hour? To ask this question is easier than to answer it. The best students have wrestled with the question as to how John calculates his hours. See, besides our present passage, 4:6; 4:52; 11:9; 19:14.

The crux of the problem really lies in John 19:14, where we read that Pilate pronounced sentence on Jesus at the sixth hour. The crux results because we read in Mark 15:25 that Jesus was crucified at the third hour. If both follow the Jewish mode of counting the hours, beginning with the break of day and counting twelve hours until sunset, the two statements would be sadly contradictory. One would say that Pilate sentenced Jesus at noon, the other that Jesus was crucified at nine o’clock. Inherently the statement of Mark, who beyond question followed the Jewish mode, is correct. The trial was hastened, the Jewish leaders had their festive arrangements to make.

It does not seem likely that it required the entire half of the day to reach the point where Pilate pronounced sentence. The crux remains if we assume that John followed the Roman method of counting the hours, beginning at midnight with twelve hours until noon, and twelve more until midnight. Moreover, the Romans counted the hours in this way only for the civil day, for ordinary purposes they, too, reckoned twelve hours from sunrise to sunset. Reckoning according to the civil day, Pilate would pronounce sentence at six in the morning, which is both quite too early for all that happened since daybreak, and again too early for the crucifixion at nine, since sentence, once pronounced, was executed without delay, not requiring a delay of three hours. This is a statement of the problem.

No satisfactory solution has yet been found. Two that are offered bear the stamp of desperate expedients on their face. One is that some ancient copyist made an error in copying John 19:14. But the reading is assured. If all difficulties could be removed by the little key, “an error in transcription,” much fruitful research would never have been undertaken. The other solution is still worse: Mark 15:25 is wrong, John 19:14 intends to contradict and to correct Mark.

Again, this is rather easy: call one statement wrong, and your problem is solved. No; the problem must leave both Mark and John as they stand, and the solution must show that both are correct. Until this is done, we must confess that we do not know how John counted his hours. One suggestion is that he followed more than one method; but this seems improbable. Counted in the Jewish fashion, the tenth hour would be four o’clock in the afternoon—somewhat late for the Statement: καὶπαρʼ αὑτῷἔμειναντὴνἡμέρανἐκείνην, although this satisfies some. According to the Roman civil reckoning the tenth hour would be ten in the morning, and this would agree well with the statement that the two disciples remained through that day, but it creates the other difficulties already noted regarding 19:14 when this passage is read according to this reckoning.

John 1:40

40 Not until this point does John mention a name, and here he mentions only the one. It seems to be a habit with John to append data such as names of persons and of places at the end of his narratives. Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter, was one of the two that heard John and followed him. Involuntarily we ask: “Who was the other of the two? and why is he not also named here?” We know the answer: “The other is John, the Apostle, himself, who never mentions his own name in his Gospel nor the name of any of his relatives.” A comparison of the data establishes this fact beyond a doubt. By mentioning only Andrew, John does not intimate which of the two, he or Andrew, was the first in making the move to follow Jesus. He merely combines the two, first in hearing the Baptist’s testimony and then in following Jesus.

That is all. Only of one thing we may be sure: if Andrew had made the first advance, John would have recorded it to Andrew’s credit although he wrote this Gospel years after Andrew was dead. Either both acted at the same moment and from the same impulse, or—and this is quite possible—John was the first and in his modesty declines to take the credit in a Gospel written by himself.

When naming Andrew the evangelist at once calls him Simon Peter’s brother whithout further explanation, thus assuming that his readers know both men from reading the other three Gospels which had been written years before. Andrew’s brother, however, is not mentioned merely in order to help to identify Andrew by means of his greater brother but apparently because of what John is now about to add to his narrative. This brother, too, is at once called by his double name “Simon Peter” because in a moment we shall hear how Jesus himself gave Simon his second name. In the Greek ἐκ is partitive, and in the genitive τῶνδύο we see that the dual form has disappeared from the Greek of this period. The two participles are made attributive to δύο by the repetition of the article and are aorist because they state the past facts that occurred prior to the time indicated by ἦν; we might translate, “who had heard John and had followed him (Jesus),” construing παρά with the first participle, “had heard from John” when he spoke those notable words.

John 1:41

41 This verse is closely attached to the foregoing by means of οὗτος, “this one,” which resumes all that has just been said regarding Andrew; the English “he” is not emphatic enough. This one as the first finds his own brother Simon and tells him, We have found the Messiah, which is, when interpreted, Christ. John reports this concerning Andrew and Simon after having drawn especial attention to the former in the previous verse. Nothing is said directly concerning himself and his brother James. And yet truth compelled John to intimate something concerning himself. The reading πρῶτον, which some prefer, should give way to πρῶτος.

If we keep the adverb, an incongruity results, for Andrew is then said to “find first,” as if he did something else next—yet nothing else is reported. If we use the adjective we learn that Andrew as the first of the two disciples mentioned finds his own brother, leading us to infer that John, as the second of the two, was a close second also in finding his own brother. And this is the actual story. Thus also the reading πρῶτος is generally preferred. It goes well with the additional touch that Andrew finds “his own” brother, τὸνἴδιον, instead of a simple αὑτοῦ, “his.” It is all quite plain if we understand that John, too, “finds his own brother James.” Yet we must note that John gives credit here, where he is personally concerned, to the other man, Andrew—he was the first in the matter of this finding. In ὁἴδιος we have a strong possessive which is quite emphatic and convertible with the reflexive ἑαυτοῦ, although at times the adjective was used in an “exhausted” sense; see the discussion in R. 691, etc.

“He findeth” and “tells” are the vivid present in historical narrative, the action being very present to John’s mind as he writes—of course, not only Andrew’s action but also his own. From the verb “finds” we cannot determine whether Andrew and also John sought his brother or only happened upon him after leaving Jesus. But the situation itself as here portrayed, especially the deep impression made by Jesus on the hearts of the two visitors, leads us to think that both forthwith sought and found their brothers. They could not refrain from imparting what they had found in Jesus. We may also remember that Simon and James were likewise disciples of the Baptist, and if he directed Andrew and John to Jesus, he certainly wanted their brothers to follow the same course, namely likewise to attach themselves to Jesus.

Mark the word “findeth.” It keeps recurring in a significant manner, twice in v. 41, and again in v. 43 and 45. So the man in the field “finds” the treasure, and the merchantman “finds” the pearl of great price. At best our seeking is only like a blind groping which would be useless if God in his mercy did not lay the great treasure so near us, direct our groping hands and blind eyes to it until, touching it at last, lo, we find it! Andrew’s finding his own brother, John’s finding his, is an excellent example of home mission zeal. Also from the very start we see a communion of saints in the following of Jesus: first two, whose faith is so blended together in the moment of its origin that we cannot tell which was the first, that of John or that of Andrew. And at once the number doubles, and the two are increased to four with two more immediately to join the four. This is how the church has grown and still grows to the present day.

The word with which Andrew greeted his brother is remarkable: “We have found the Messiah,” which John interprets for his Greek readers, translating the term with “Christ.” In v. 38 the case is preserved, “Rabbi,” Διδάσκαλε, both vocatives; here the accusative “Messiah” is rendered by the nominative “Christ.” In both cases the neuter ὅ refers to the word only as a word, and the participle may be combined with the copula to form a circumscribed present, or, since we have no call for this here, may be read as a modifier, “when interpreted,” which we prefer. Andrew has the plural verb, “we have found,” not the singular with inflectional “I.” The church loves to make joint confession. Of course, the agreement in this quiet “we” means to strengthen the assurance for Simon. If John had had doubts or had hesitated in seconding Andrew, Simon would have been far less impressed. Here again we have the extensive perfect εὑρήκαμεν, “we have found,” see v. 32 for the explanation of the tense, R. 893, and compare v. 34 and 45. The act of finding lies in the past, but the effect and result continue to the present.

This is Andrew’s glad news. “We have found him whom all Israel has been looking for!” Let us not miss the tremendousness of the announcement. The verb states a fact not a supposition, not a surmise, not a deduction, but an unqualified fact. Andrew did not think he had found; he had found and he knew he had.

John retains Andrew’s “the Messiah” in the Aramaic just as he keeps “Rabbi” in v. 38, and writes Cephas in v. 42, though in each case he translates for his Greek readers. He writes as an original witness; and these distinctive terms have a value of their own which ought to be preserved. It was natural for Andrew to use the title so familiar to the Jews, “the Messiah”—he in whom all their hopes and aspirations centered. The Messianic hope had in the first place drawn these men to leave their fishing nets up in Galilee and to come down to the lower reaches of the Jordan where the Baptist, the great herald of the promised Messiah, was baptizing. They had not been disappointed in him although he was only the advance herald. Now, however, their highest hopes were coming to fulfillment: they have found the Messiah himself.

The Baptist had called him “the Son of God,” v. 34, and most emphatically “the Lamb of God.” This Andrew now restates in his own way just as Philip does a little later in v. 45. The Hebrew Mashiach, Aramaic Meshiha is the Greek Christos, a verbal adjective made a noun, signifying “the Anointed One.” The Greek name is derived from the ceremonial verb χρίω, “to anoint,” as contrasted with the common verb ἀλείφω, any smearing with oil. The term is appellative, is like a descriptive title and designates the high office of the Promised One, whoever he may be. When this person was known as Jesus, the title “Christ” was used directly to name him, yet it always retained the original reference to the office involved. So also Andrew declares that he and John have found the person who is the Messiah.

To determine the nature of this office we must combine all that the Old Testament promised concerning the coming Savior, his prophetic, high priestly, and regal work. For that combined work he would be anointed, and by the anointing he would be formally invested with that work. As high as was this mighty office, so high, we know, was the act of anointing—God himself sending the Holy Spirit (not merely a few of his gifts) upon his chosen Servant. Again the question is raised as to how far the knowledge of Andrew reached regarding the Messiahship of Jesus. It is enough to know that Andrew was making the right beginning—Jesus himself would develop this unto the fullest fruition. Whether John, when he met his brother James, used the same designation for Jesus—who can say? Of one thing we can be sure, he did not employ a term that said less; and James, too, at once followed Jesus.

John 1:42

42 He brought him unto Jesus with its historical aorist simply states the fact, which was certainly weighty enough in itself. It must have occurred that very evening, for John carefully marks the days in this section of his Gospel and does not write “on the morrow” until we come to v. 43. Thus John also rendered the same service to James that very evening right after Andrew had done so. Peter became the third disciple of Jesus, James the fourth, all of them becoming disciples on that day. When they were “brought” to Jesus they naturally were introduced to him. We learn how Jesus received Simon and conclude that in some equally effective way he received also James.

One might stop with the outward act of ἤγαγεν, “brought,” but surely here is a hint that Simon (and then James) was also brought spiritually to Jesus, brought so as to believe in him and to follow him. That is what the following narrative implies.

Having looked upon him, Jesus said, Thou art Simon, the son of John: thou shalt be called Cephas, which is interpreted Rock. The absence of a connective makes this narration stand out as an independent incident. Jesus lets his eyes rest on Simon for a little while. John paints the scene by means of the circumstantial participle ἐμβλέψας, compare v. 36, also 29. John remembered that look of Jesus. The attractive interpretation is offered that before Andrew, when bringing Simon to Jesus, could say a word, Jesus after one good look at Simon miraculously told who this man being brought to him was and what he would become, thus in a double way displaying his omniscience.

The verb forms and the tenses make this interpretation unlikely. John would have had to write in one connection: ἄγων … ἐμβλέψας … εἶπε, “while bringing him to Jesus, after Jesus had looked upon him, he said,” etc. But John writes ἤγαγεν, which is wholly disconnected from the next two actions. He makes two sentences without even “and” to join them. He connects only ἐμβλέψας with εἶπε, this participle modifying the finite verb. “He brought,” an aorist verb, is an action complete in itself: Andrew actually and completely brought his brother Simon. Then Jesus looked at Simon and spoke as he did.

Moreover, just to name a stranger after one good look, even if it is actually done, is too much like the tricks of charlatans to be accepted by sober men as evidence of supernatural power, to say nothing of omniscience. Even when the thing is done in order to mystify, we have the just suspicion (as in the case of spiritistic mediums) that the name was secured in some secret and perfectly natural way. Whenever Jesus makes revelations he bars out all such impossibilities. As far as Simon’s name is concerned, Andrew as well as John may have in their long interview with Jesus mentioned the fact to him that they and their respective brothers (naming them) had come from Galilee to attach themselves to the Baptist as disciples. Then ἤγαγεν would mean that Andrew presented Simon saying, “This is my brother.” Or, if Jesus had not been told about this brother in the interview, Andrew now “brought” him to Jesus by saying, “This is my brother Simon, the son of John.” In general, we are constrained to follow the rule of interpretation which finds miraculous action only where the text plainly demands it; Wundersucht is a mistake even in the case of the many miracles of Jesus.

After Andrew has made his introduction, Jesus looked at Simon. The participle ἐμβλέψας is sometimes misconceived as indicating a look that penetrated into the real character of Simon, so that Jesus now reveals that character when he renames Simon by calling him “Rock.” The fact is that Simon had an impetuous character, and his impetuosity often led him into wrong actions. Thus he often shows anything but a solid and rocklike character. When Jesus renamed him he prophetically foretold what he would make of Simon by his grace.

The two statements, “Thou art Simon, the son of John,” and, “Thou shalt be called Cephas,” are parallels and direct opposites, each marked by the emphatic σύ, “thou.” The one says what the man now is; the other, what he shall become and thus be called at some future time. “Simon, the son of John,” is only the ordinary ancient way of stating a man’s name in full by adding that of his father. It is the pointed contrast with the other name that this man shall come to bear which makes “Simon, the son of John,” here mean: this is all that you are by natural birth and parentage; presently you shall be far more, something far higher, by the new power that will work upon you—you shall be called “Rock.” Here, and in 21:15, etc., the faulty reading “Jonah” has been introduced in some texts from Matt. 16:17, which the margin of the R. V. unfortunately still passes on. Then fancy plays with “Jonah” = “dove,” combining this with “Rock”: from the son of a dove Simon shall become the rock where the dove finds refuge. This fancy also violates Πέτρος, a single boulder not a rocky cliff, which would be πέτρα, a feminine.

When Jesus declares, “Thou shalt be called Cephas,” the verb means that he shall be called what he then shall actually be. Jesus here speaks with full authority and not like the Baptist who first had to receive a revelation. Here, too, Jesus is attesting himself as he continues to do in the next paragraphs. Here, however, the effect is not immediate. Jesus is ready to wait until Peter shall, indeed, have become what he now so positively promises him. The Hebrew keph, Aramaic kepha, is here rendered Πέτρος, since a single person is to bear this name: a boulder of rock, a large stone, and not πέτρα, a cliff of rock.

Hence also: ὃἑρμηνεύεται, “which is interpreted,” i.e., not, “which is translated.” In v. 38 and 41 John writes μεθερμηνευόμενον, “when translated,” although in v. 38 “Teacher” is not a real translation of “Rabbi,” and some texts offer ἑρμενευόμενον, “when interpreted.” The best interpretation of the name “Peter” Jesus afterward gave in Matt. 16:18, “Thou art Peter (Πέτρος), and upon this rock (ἐπὶταύτῃτῇπέτρᾳ) I will build my church,” i.e., the confession of Christ which Peter had just made. Hence, not his original character or one later developed in Peter led Jesus to name him “Rock,” but what Peter should become for others, i.e., for the church, which is “built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the chief cornerstone.” In this foundation Peter with his confession of Christ would be one of the apostolic foundation stones. His name Cephas indicates his future historical place in the church not his future personal excellence. Even as late as Gal. 2:11 we see Paul solid as a rock and Peter wavering again to such an extent that Paul had to rebuke him.

This rounds out the Baptist’s testimony, recording not only that he made it but also that it proved effectual for its purpose: four of the Baptist’s disciples believed in Jesus and became Jesus’ disciples.

The First Attestation of Jesus Himself, 1:43–2:11.—The testimony of the Baptist and that of Jesus link into each other as the previous section shows. But there the word of the Baptist still dominates, “Behold, the Lamb of God!” In what now follows we, indeed, have further effects of the Baptist’s words, but he himself is no longer before us. We now see Jesus himself in full action. For the first time we hear the significant call, “Follow me!” It carries the tacit implication that the first four who had come to Jesus were already following him, i.e., had permanently attached themselves to Jesus as their Master. Thus a little band of men had been gathered. A few days later we find them in Cana of Galilee. And now the testimony of Jesus appears in the form of the first miracle, the account of which closes with the words, “and his disciples believed on him.”

John 1:43

43 For the third time John writes “on the morrow” at the head of a paragraph. We thus have four consecutive days beginning with 1:19. In 2:1 “the third day” makes the first break. Therefore, Andrew and John brought their brothers to Jesus on the evening of the previous day. Whatever the details of the movements might have been, we abide by the days as John indicates them, whether our imagination is able to fill in the details with readiness or not. The view that Andrew and John stayed all night with Jesus and brought their brothers the next morning contradicts what John writes when he now says “on the morrow.” On the morrow he decided to go forth into Galilee and he finds Philip.

And Jesus says to him, Follow me. The aorist ἠθέλησεν implies that the intention was carried out, otherwise the imperfect would be used. The aorist infinite ἐξελθεῖν summarizes the entire journey from Bethany beyond Jordan to Galilee. It seems that Jesus announced his decision to the four disciples who had attached themselves to him. Much of his Messianic activity was to take place in this land despised by the Judean Jews. Galilee was less given to bigotry and narrowness.

Matthew applies to this going of Jesus into Galilee the prophecy: “The land of Zabulon, and the land of Nephthalim, by the way of the sea, beyond Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles; the people which sat in darkness saw great light; and to them which sat in the region and shadow of death light is sprung up,” Matt. 4:15, 16.

At this point Jesus “finds” Philip. Note how this verb keeps recurring. So Christ, the gospel, and the gospel messengers keep finding men. It often seems accidental but it is all in the gracious plans of God. Commentators think that Philip must have come into contact with Jesus prior to this apparently sudden call. Strictly speaking, this is not correct, for the whole previous story, as John tells it, leads to the conclusion that he and Andrew were the first who came into direct contact with Jesus.

But the indications show that John and Andrew, who first visited Jesus, reported what they had found not only to Peter and to James but also to Philip. The five were associated with each other as disciples of the Baptist; they came from the same city; and Philip’s reply to Nathanael, “Come and see!” recalls Jesus’ invitation to John and to Andrew. Why Philip did not at once with Peter and James go to Jesus that first evening we do not know. Perhaps he did not hear the news until late that night, until the four finally came away from Jesus. The call, “Follow me!” is so much like the other calls of Jesus that we must class it with them as a call to nothing less than discipleship. Not as a mere attendant on the way back to Galilee but as a permanent follower of Jesus, Philip is to join the little band.

The present imperative, Ἀκολούθειμοι is durative to express a continuous course of action. What Philip replied is not recorded, we know from what follows that he joyfully obeyed. Philip’s call is mentioned only incidentally as an introduction to the story of Nathanael and to testimony Jesus uttered in connection with his call.

John 1:44

44 Now Philip was from Bethsaida, out of the city of Andrew and Peter. This is a parenthetical explanation, showing the close connection between the men named and, as usual, is introduced by δέ. The preposition ἀπό is like the German von, and ἐκ, aus, is usual with πόλις, a variant of ἀπό for designations of home localities. Bethsaida, “House of Fish,” lies west of and close to the Lake of Galilee, near Capernaum and Chorazin, its site at present is lost. On a recent visit to the Holy Land no trace of the place could be pointed out to us. The evangelist names only Andrew and Peter although Bethsaida was also his own home.

If Philip’s Greek name was derived from the Tetrarch Philip, he would be less than thirty years old. In the lists of the Apostles he is placed fifth, joined with Bartholomew and Thomas. Tradition reports that he afterward labored in Scythia and Phrygia and died in Hieropolis as a very old man.

John 1:45

45 Before the start to Galilee is made Philip finds Nathanael and says to him, Him of whom Moses wrote in the law, and the prophets, we have found, Jesus, son of Joseph, from Nazareth. Twice we here meet the significant verb “find,” once in John’s narrative, again in Philip’s discourse; compare v. 34 and 41. Andrew’s and John’s finding is here repeated. Philip finds Nathanael by himself and at once pours out to him what now fills his heart. Nathanael=Theodore=God-given and is taken to be identical with Bartholomew, which is merely a patronymic. His home was Cana in Galilee whither Jesus was now going.

It is but natural to suppose that he, too, was one of the Baptist’s pupils and thus closely associated with the five who had already found the Christ. The legend that he served as the conductor of the bride at the wedding in Cana is a fancy. Philip puts the object both in front of the verb and back of it, the latter by means of an apposition. Thus the entire emphasis rests on the object as if Philip says, “Just think whom we have found.” He uses a descriptive clause to designate Jesus, “Him of whom Moses wrote in the law, and the prophets” but means exactly what Andrew said with the one word “Messiah.” Philip’s description of the Messiah is exactly to the point. In the closing apposition he names the person whom he has in mind, “Jesus, son of Joseph, from Nazareth.”

“Moses and the prophets” often designates the Old Testament as such; it is sometimes also briefly called ὁνόμος, the law. Here Philip separates the two terms: of whom Moses wrote in the law, in the Torah or Pentateuch, and (of whom) the prophets (wrote in their books). Moses is here said to be the author of the Pentateuch, which fact Jesus corroborates in 5:45, 46 and Luke 24:27. In his writings Moses transmitted the promises to the patriarchs; he gave Israel the law which with all its symbols and types points so directly to Christ; and in passages like Deut. 18:15–18 renewed the divine promise concerning the great Mediator Prophet to come. The entire history of Israel contained in the Pentateuch is senseless and purposeless without the Messiah, so that all that Moses wrote in the law actually refers to Christ. The prophets were the expounders of the law whose special duty it was not only to drive home the requirements and the threats of the law in the hearts of the people but also to hold out to them the glorious and comforting hope of the Deliverer to come, of whom they at times spoke directly as in Isa. 53.

The Baptist continued this work in the most effective way, and we here have men trained in the Baptist’s school, who naturally reveal their training. Philip spoke truly when he said that the picture of the Messiah was found in Moses and in the prophets. It has always been there though the nation of the Jews eventually refused to “find” and to see it, and modernism denies that Moses “wrote” his five books and treats the prophets and their writings with the same destructive criticism.

When Philip designates the promised Messiah as “Jesus, son of Joseph, from Nazareth,” this should not be pressed to mean that Jesus was born in Nazareth. Having lived in this town so long, naturally when anyone wanted to say from what place Jesus came he would say “from Nazareth,” ἀπό as in v. 44. The fact that Jesus’ home was in Nazareth may have been mentioned to his first followers by Jesus himself. He still called himself “Jesus of Nazareth” in Acts 22:8. As far as the

wondrous conception of Jesus is concerned and the actual place of his birth, Jesus preferred that his disciples should first discover for themselves his divine origin and nature and then learn the mighty fact that he was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of a virgin. This applies also to the designation “son of Joseph.” Joseph was undoubtedly dead at this time, probably had been for some years, since we hear nothing at all concerning him after that memorable visit to Jerusalem when Jesus spoke so plainly of his real Father and of that Father’s business. Yet the fact is that Jesus actually was a “son of Joseph,” namely legally; otherwise how could Joseph’s name occur in the genealogy of Jesus, Luke 3:23; Matt. 1:16? To be sure, there is much more to the story of Jesus, much that none of these disciples could know thus early. But to say with Calvin that Philip here uttered an error, yea two, is unwarranted. Philip uttered facts, actual facts. He did not as yet know all the facts, but when at last all would be known to him, the last facts would illumine the first and not overthrow them.

Philip uses “we have found” exactly as Andrew did in v. 41; the tense is explained in v. 32, compare v. 34 and 41. The plural “we” now includes five and will impress Nathanael more than if Philip had said, “I have found.” This plural also denotes the communion and fellowship of faith combined with joint confession. To say that Philip should have turned matters around, saying instead of “we have found,” “we have been found,” is only substituting one form of expression for another, both of which are true, although only the former fits here. No trace of synergism, of credit for himself, is found in Philip’s, “we have found.”

John 1:46

46 And Nathanael said to him, Can any good thing come out of Nazareth? Philip says to him, Come and see. Nathanael is not greatly impressed by Philip’s enthusiastic, “we have found.” He voices his doubt. Here the aorist εἷπεν is used beside the present λέγει, showing that the two are about equal in force, the latter adding a more vivid touch. Nathanael’s question has bothered the commentators a good deal. “Any good thing,” τὶἀγαθόν, is general but thus of necessity includes the good thing that Philip declares he and the others have found, the greatest possible Good Thing, the Messiah himself. If nothing good is to be expected out of Nazareth, how can the greatest good originate there?

Nathanael can hardly be thinking of the smallness of Nazareth. We know nothing of evil reports concerning the place, and simply to surmise them is gratuitous. The later unbelief of the inhabitants cannot be referred to here; moreover, this was of the same kind as that which Jesus met with even in the very capital—Jerusalem. The fact that Nazareth cannot be reckoned with because it was a town of the “Galilee of the Gentiles,” a country despised by the men of Judea on this account, would require a mention of Galilee and a reference to Gentiles. The best explanation of Nathanael’s doubting remark is that he knew nothing of any mention of Nazareth with regard to the Messiah in the law of Moses and in the prophetic promises to which Philip had made such strong references. We need not bring in Matt. 2:23, “He shall be called a Nazarene,” for this is a play on words not a prophecy regarding Nazareth as being the home of Jesus; see Fausset, Bible Cyclopedia, 496, 3; Smith, Bible Dictionary, III, 2070.

Philip gives the finest kind of an answer, one that recalls the word of Jesus himself to John and Andrew, “Come and see!” The present imperative ἔρχου is combined with the aorist imperative ἴδε, thus differing from v. 39. This is excellent Greek, the first tense moving the action along until the action of the second tense brings it to a proper stop. To regard these two imperatives as equivalent to a condition, “If you come, you shall see,” is to change the thought and to weaken its expression in spite of R. 949. Bengel calls this reply: optimum remedium contra opiniones praeconceptas, the best remedy against preconceived opinions. The answer was probably far better than Philip himself realized, for the only way to learn aright who Jesus is, is not to argue about him, about Nazareth, or about any other point that doubt may try to raise, but to come directly to Jesus himself (now in his Word, where he stands ready to meet us) and thus to see. This is the way Jesus led all his disciples, and they came, they saw, they were satisfied to the uttermost.

John 1:47

47 “Come and see!” is a call and an invitation, and while it is extended through Philip, it comes from Jesus himself who uses us to call others. In spite of his doubts about a person from Nazareth being the Messiah Nathanael comes to see. Jesus saw Nathanael coming to him and declares concerning him, Behold, truly an Israelite, in whom is no guile! Accompanying Philip, Nathanael was approaching Jesus who thus “saw” him coming; εἶδεν merely notes his approach, thus differing from θεασάμενος, “having beheld,” in v. 38, and from ἐμβλέψας, “having regarded,” in v. 36 and 42. Jesus speaks to the four disciples about him, “concerning” Nathanael, not to Nathanael himself, yet he does this in such a way that Nathanael hears what Jesus says about him. Jesus expresses his joy at Nathanael’s coming. Other instances similar to this one we note in the case of the Canaanitish woman who cried after him, in the case of the centurion’s humble and implicit faith, in the case of the sinful woman in Simon’s house, in the case of Zacchaeus’ confession, in the case of the malefactor’s repentance. “They are not all Israel, which are of Israel,” Rom. 9:6, but Nathanael was one of them.

The adverb ἀληθῶς, “truly,” “in truth or verity,” modifies the entire statement, “Behold, here is in truth an Israelite, in whom is no guile.” Some connect the adverb with the noun, but then an adjective should have been used, “Behold, a true Israelite.” Then, too, the relative clause would merely define the adjective: true because without guile. This would connote that other Israelites were not true because they were full of guile, a contrast that is entirely out of place here where such Israelites are not thought of. Still less can we draw the adverb to the relative clause, “in whom truly is no guile,” which ignores the position of the word and removes the strong emphasis on “an Israelite.” This word of Jesus concerning Nathanael can be understood only in connection with the conversation of Philip with Nathanael. In his divine way Jesus knew what the two had said and how Nathanael, instead of stiffening himself in his doubt about Nazareth, yielded to his desire for the Messiah and came along with Philip. It cost Nathanael some effort to come to a man from Nazareth; Jesus knows what it cost him, and this rejoices his heart. Thus we cannot reduce this word of Jesus to mean merely that Jesus sees the character of the man Nathanael; we must elevate it to mean the character and quality of his being an Israelite, a man who is absolutely sincere about Israel’s hope and salvation, so sincere that he does not allow the mention of Nazareth to turn him away from Jesus. Jesus’ word does not mean that in some way Nathanael will prove himself an Israelite, indeed, as Simon would eventually be a Rock, but that right here and now Nathanael is truly what he is.

The relative clause, “in whom is no guile,” elucidates the adverb ἀληθῶς, and δόλος is cunning or deception as when one uses bait to catch fish or some cunning means to secure personal advantage. Nathanael was without duplicity, altogether sincere. David calls such a man blessed, Ps. 32:1, 2. Most men lack this complete sincerity. Professing love to Christ, they still secrectly love the world and the flesh; promising faithfulness, the promise does not fully bind their hearts. This δόλος kept the Jewish nation from Christ, proved the curse of Judas, almost wrecked Peter. Church men and entire church bodies, while making loud profession sonoro tono, yet squint secretly at popular opinion, human authorities, supposed advantages, and with fair sounding excuses deviate from the Word. “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” Matt. 5:8.

John 1:48

48 The implication of the narrative is that Nathanael had never met Jesus before, also that Philip had no opportunity to tell Jesus about Nathanael. No wonder that, when Jesus touched the very center of the desires and hopes of Nathanael, and did this even before this unprepared meeting, this filled him with astonishment. The question admits that Jesus knows Nathanael. The verb γινώσκεις is the present tense, speaking of the knowledge Jesus has just displayed in his words. Moreover, this verb signifies the true knowledge of insight or of experience. The aorist would be, “Whence didst thou come to know me?” and it would be out of place here.

This question, at once coming to the lips of Nathanael as a genuine response to the words of Jesus, itself proves the man’s utter sincerity as an Israelite, the very fact Jesus had expressed. Strike a beautiful bell, and it gives forth its sound on the instant.

Jesus answered and said to him, Before Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig tree, I saw thee. The importance of this brief reply is shown by the two finite verbs in the preamble, “answered and said,” which is stronger even than, “answered saying.” The aorist passive ἀπεκρίθη is used as a middle to express replies of all kinds, as these are required not only by actual questions but also by actions and by situations. The answer of Jesus goes far beyond what Nathanael asked and what he expected. Jesus does not say, ἔγνωνσε, “I knew thee,” but, εἶδόνσε, “I saw thee,” I perceived, noticed, observed thee. By this seeing Jesus knew. Nathanael asked in regard to the present, “Whence knowest thou me?” Jesus reaches into the past, “Not only do I know thee at this moment, I knew thee ere this, yea, saw thee.” Since the reply, “I saw thee,” answers the question, “Whence knowest thou me?” this seeing at a distance with supernatural powers of sight is evidence for the power to look also into men’s hearts.

Here is a case like that of the woman at Jacob’s well, “He told me all things that I ever did,” 4:39. Another case is that of the paralytic let down through the roof whom Jesus first absolved before he healed him, seeing that his chief ailment was spiritual. “Lord, thou hast searched me and known me,” Ps. 139:1. In his state of humiliation Jesus did not constantly use his divine attributes according to his human nature, but he used these attributes, in which his human nature shared, whenever he deemed it necessary for the purpose of his office and work. To place Jesus, in the present case, on the same level with the prophets, saying that Jesus “saw” as they “saw,” is to deny the union of his two natures, i.e., to make of the God-man what he never was and never could be.

What lies in the meaning of the verb εἶδον and its tense is brought out more clearly still by the two modifiers, one of time and one of place, “before Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig tree.” The subordinate clause of antecedent time is neatly expressed by πρὸτοῦ with the infinitive, which takes the place of πρίν with the infinitive, R. 621 and 766. This clause modifies εἶδον and states when Jesus saw Nathanael. The participial clause, “when thou wast under the fig tree,” modifies the object of εἶδον, “I saw thee, when thou wast,” etc., literally, “thee being under the fig tree,” and states where Jesus saw him. The supposition that ὑπό with the accusative must refer to motion like taking refuge under must be dismissed as being due to ignorance of the Koine, R. 634–5.

Who would not wish that the evangelist had told us more fully what actually happened under the fig tree when Nathanael was there before he met Philip? Something apparently disproportionate lies in the connection of this simple statement of Jesus and the instantaneous, magnificent confession of Nathanael who but a moment ago was filled with serious doubt; but we know that the disproportion does not really exist. As far as the fig tree itself and Nathanael’s being under it are concerned, this was nothing unusual, since it was the custom of pious Jews—a custom encouraged by the Talmud—to study their office of daily prayer in some secluded place. Even here, away from Cana, his home, while lodging in some temporary place, Nathanael may well have had his place for quiet retirement, in this instance the shade of a fig tree. What Jesus refers to is not this custom merely but something of a deep personal nature, known only to Nathanael and to his God, that occurred say a day or two before when he had again sought seclusion under that tree. For the reference of Jesus literally strikes home in Nathanael’s heart.

He sees that what transpired in his inmost soul lies open to Jesus’ eyes. “Under the fig tree” unlocks all that ever stirred within him regarding Israel’s hope and deliverance. Imagination seeks to supply something that would be great enough to justify the great confession that rose to Nathanael’s lips, such as wrestling in prayer for fulfillment of God’s promise; resolve to be baptized by the Baptist; prayer victory over some temptation; perhaps, a direct response from God like Simeon’s, Luke 2:26, promising him that he should see the Christ. We leave the mystery as John left it to us.

John 1:49

49 Almost involuntary is the instantaneous response. Nathanael answered him, Rabbi, thou art the Son of God; thou art King of Israel. So spoke this true Israelite heart, and his words were even truer than he himself knew. Jesus had attested himself to Nathanael, and Nathanael believed the attestation. The title “Rabbi” is the same as in v. 38. The double unqualified designation ὁυἱὸςτοῦΘεοῦ and βασιλεὺςτοῦἸσραήλ comes as a surprise, especially when we remember how the Jews hated all deification of men.

The second title, “King of Israel,” furnishes the clue for the source from which Nathanael drew both, namely Ps. 2, “Thou art my Son,” and, “Yet have I set my King upon my holy hill of Zion.” The entire Psalm speaks of the enthronement of the Messiah who is the Son of God. Another view would trace Nathanael’s confession to the Baptist, v. 33; but the Baptist’s testimony lacks the significant title “King of Israel,” which then would be only Nathanael’s own deduction from the other title, “the Son of God.”

It is no mean proof of the divinity of Christ that men like Nathanael at once felt impelled to acknowledge him as “the Son of God,” and having done so, remained true to him as such, and in all their later daily, familiar intercourse with him never changed their minds, telling themselves that they had been carried away in a moment of enthusiasm and now in the light of a more sober knowledge must revise their estimate. Later impressions made these men second Peter’s great confession, “the Christ, the Son of the living God,” Matt. 16:16; John 6:69; compare Matt. 14:33; Luke 9:20; John 11:27; 20:28. What this means in regard to the revelation of the Trinity in the Old Testament and in regard to the knowledge of the Jews concerning the Trinity is stated in connection with v. 32. Men like Nathanael understood Ps. 2 and Ps. 110 and other pertinent parts of the Old Testament quite well. “Son of God” seems too far-reaching an expression even for many who admit Christ’s Sonship; hence they tone it down to mean “an exceptional relation between Jesus and God” and point to Nathanael’s emotion when he made the declaration. But John never would or could have used Nathanael’s word if it had amounted only to so little.

We need not deny that in afterdays clouds arose to dim the clear vision of Jesus which Nathanael had at the very beginning of his discipleship. Yet the fact also stands out that the light always conquered, and the clouds disappeared, and every doubt was swallowed up by greater light and faith; for the glory that shone forth from the Only-begotten never waned for a single moment. “Son of God” rightly stands first as expressing the true relation of Jesus to God; “King of Israel” rightly stands second as expressing the true relation of Jesus to Israel. Nathanael places the two on a parallel, but in Jesus both predicates are joined. To make “King of Israel” alone mean Messiah is verbal play, for the only Messiah is Jesus who is both “Son” and “King.”

John 1:50

50 Jesus might have said nothing more and might have continued his journey. But where he meets faith like this he praises and rewards it. Jesus answered and said unto him, Because I said to thee, I saw thee underneath the fig tree, thou believest. Something greater than this shalt thou see. Again the two verbs “answered and said” as in the case of the previous speech of Jesus in v. 48. Can we follow our versions and others in regarding the first statement of Jesus as a question, “Because I said, etc., … dost thou believe?” A question seems to be stronger and livelier than a declaration, but it is liable to be taken in a wrong sense, thus, “Believest thou already on such little evidence?” or, “Believest thou already?—I hardly expected it”; or, “Believest thou—art thou sure thou believest?” No; Jesus declares with joy, “Thou believest!” The grounds are sufficient, indeed, “Because I said unto thee, I saw thee underneath the fig tree.” When Jesus said that he intended it to be fully sufficient to produce faith—it did, and Jesus acknowledges this.

So here he first praises and secondly rewards faith. The reward lies in the promise, “Something greater than this shalt thou see.” The neuter plurals μείζω (contraction for μείζονα) and τούτων are not intended as plural occurrences, for the latter plainly refers only to the fig-tree incident, and the former is explained by v. 51. Such neuter plurals are mere idioms; we should use the singular. There is a contrast between the terms, “I said to thee,” and, “thou shalt see”; and again between, “I saw thee,” and, “thou shalt see.” Nathanael accepts the word of Jesus—he shall receive even more—as Jesus saw wondrously, so shall he. The verb may be written ὄψῃ or ὄψει, according as the editors contract -εσαι into ῃ or into ει.

John 1:51

51 What “greater thing” Jesus means by his promise to Nathanael he now states clearly and fully. And he says to him, Amen, amen, I say to you, you shall see the heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of man. The interruption of the evangelist, “And he says to him,” is like that in v. 32, and is intended to draw special attention to the words of Jesus that follow. “To him,” Nathanael, and yet in what Jesus says he uses the plural as a reference to all six disciples present. This was necessary, for they all “shall see” what is here promised.

This promise is introduced by a formula of assurance which Jesus often used: a double “amen” as a seal of verity and, “I say to you,” as the stamp of final authority. In “Amen” we have the transliterated Hebrew word for “truth” or “verity,” an adverbial accusative in the sense of ἀληθῶς, “verily,” and so rendered in our versions. In Hebrew it is placed at the end to confirm a statement or to seal an obligation, it is like our liturgical Amen. “All search in Jewish literature has not brought to light a real analogy for the idiomatic use of the single or the double ἀμήν on the part of Jesus.” Zahn, Das Evang. d. Matthaeus, 361. This means the use at the head of the statement. The best one can say is that Jesus used the double “Amen” when he spoke Aramaic, just as John reports; and that the synoptists, when reporting this in the Greek, deemed the single ἀμήν sufficient for the readers.

The supposition that John’s double ἀμήν is intended to produce the sound of the Aramaic words for “I say” is unlikly and leaves unexplained why he still adds to the two amen: λέγωὑμῖν. In our Gospel the double amen occurs 25 times and always introduces statements of the greatest weight.

The word “hereafter,” ἀπάρτι, dropped in the R. V., does not change the sense of Jesus’ words but accords well with them. The Greek texts which omit the word seem to do so because they interpret the promised vision of angels as a reference to the actual appearance of angels, which, of course, occurred much later and not “from now on.” While the future tense ὄψεσθε might be punctiliar, “you shall see once,” here the durative sense is indicated, “you shall see again and again.” These disciples, in fact, had the first vision of this kind three days later in the miracle at Cana. The tense also furnishes positive assurance, a definite promise and glorious prophecy, “you shall see, indeed,” it will come to pass. We must also note that “you shall see” corresponds to “thou shalt see” in v. 50, the verb being identical, and the promise in v. 51 an elaboration of the one in v. 50. In both cases the verb denotes actual seeing with the eyes, and this seeing is in contrast to what Jesus has just said to him regarding the fig tree.

The latter indicated the supernatural knowledge of Jesus; to this shall be added visions of the supernatural works of Jesus, beginning with the miracle in Cana. These works the disciples shall actually see and behold in them the divine power of Jesus. This seeing, then, is like that of v. 14, “we beheld his glory,” etc.

They shall see “the heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of man.” The perfect participle ἀνεῳγότα means that heaven, once opened, continues thus, and thus it differs from the opening of the heavens after the baptism of Jesus, for which Matt. 3:16 and Luke 3:21 have the aorist, indicating one act, a momentary opening. What the disciples shall see is heaven permanently open over Jesus. In all his miraculous works they shall see that no bar exists between Jesus and God, between him and the heavenly world, as this is the case with us all who are subject to sin. When Jesus adds, “and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of man,” this vividly recalls the dream of Jacob, Gen. 28:12, although no medium like a ladder is mentioned. For the sinner Jacob such a medium (Mediator, the ladder typifying Christ) was needed; not for God’s own Son. “The angels of God” are just what the words say and not figures, types, symbols of some kind or other, such as “the symbol of living communion between God and the Messiah,” “divine perfection,” “personal forces of the divine Spirit,” etc. The order of the participles “ascending and descending” is the same as in Genesis, but here they are used in the sense of a constant going and coming—while some go, others come.

When R. 423 calls this order of the participles a hysteron proteron, “a natural inversion from our point of view,” we do not share his view. Only to sinners angels must first come down not to the Son. When they went up to God from Jacob and then came down, this was due to the fact that he was already in God’s favor, the dream assuring him of that fact.

To understand the import of these movements of the angels we should not overlook the contrast implied in the terms “the angels of God” and “the Son of man.” When God’s Son dwelt on earth as the Son of man, heaven itself was here among men, the very angels of God, like an army, waited upon his least beck and call. Though he came as the Son of man, God’s own angels were at his command. Recall Matt. 26:53, “Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray my Father, and he shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels?” The centurion in Matt. 8:9 made a true comparison when he remarked that he had but to say “Go!” to one of his soldiers, or to say “Come!” and he would instantly be obeyed. Thus all power in heaven and in earth was given to this Son of man. We thus dismiss the ancient interpretation which held that these six disciples would see the actual appearances of angels, for these were but few, and only at the ascension of Jesus did two angels appear to the disciples. We likewise decline to accept the interpretation that the angels bore Christ’s prayers to the Father and returned the Father’s answer, for no such angelic mediation is indicated anywhere, nor would it fit the close communion of the Son with the Father.

As God uses the angels for his purposes, so did the Son of man. His mighty works would make these disciples see that. As the angels are sent forth to minister unto those who are the heirs of salvation, so they will minister to the will of him who is the author of this salvation, the great original Heir. In a way far higher than was possible in Jacob’s case the ascending and descending angels would serve Jesus. The final phrase with ἐπί does not mean “resting upon Jesus,” which is excluded by the very nature of what is described; or bringing divine powers upon Jesus, for the very Spirit of God had already been made his for his work. This ἐπί is in relation to “heaven” which stands open above Jesus, hence the descending of the angels at Christ’s beck and call would be ἐπί, “upon” him, a coming to his great person.

Here for the first time Jesus uses the designation “the Son of man,” found nine times in John’s Gospel and over fifty-five times in the four Gospels. This title is used exclusively by Jesus himself, except in 12:34 where, after his using it, others ask its meaning; and in Acts 7:56, which reflects Matt. 26:64. It is clear that this title was coined by Jesus himself, was unknown before he used it, was by the disciples restricted to use with reference to Jesus, and did not come to be used in the church until quite late. Jesus always uses it as a subject or as an object, always in the third person, never as a predicate; he speaks in the full consciousness that he is “the Son of man” yet never says, “I am the Son of man.” The title is always ὁυἱὸςτοῦἀνθρώπου, with the two Greek articles, which is quite distinct from “a son of man,” i.e., a human being. There is a mystery in the title which is still felt as we read the record of its use by Jesus, which is clearly evident also when in Matt. 16:13, etc., Jesus first asks who the people say is “the Son of man” and who the disciples say he is.

“Of man,” never the plural “of men,” is generic; not descending from some man but having the nature of man, a son of mankind. The fact that the human nature of Christ is expressed in the title is beyond question. But “the Son” of man lifts out this one man from all men as being one who has this human nature in a way in which no other man has it, who while he is true man, indeed, is more than man, who accepts the designation ὁυἱὸςτοῦΘεοῦτοῦζῶντος, “the Son of the living God.” This is very clear from the mighty acts attributed to “the Son of man” which prove that, while he is man, he is also infinitely greater than man. Hence “the Son of man” is not merely “the ideal man,” homo κατʼ ἐξοχήν the flower of our race, toward whom all creation tended; but “the Word made flesh,” the Son ἄσαρκος who became ἔνσαρκος, who to his divine nature joined our human nature, the Son of God who assumed our human flesh and blood. In the use Jesus makes of this title two lines of thought converge: the one is lowliness, suffering, etc.; the other greatness, power, and exaltation beyond that of men. Once the title is properly conceived, both lines of thought are seen to be clearly involved in this designation.

It will also be noted that this title fits Jesus in an eminent way while he sojourned on earth and was thus used by him as early as his meeting with Nathanael. To give it an exclusively eschatological sense because Jesus calls himself “the Son of man” also in connection with the consummation, is to generalize from a few facts instead of from all.

Nathanael has just called Jesus “the Son of God,” and now, it seems as though to counterbalance that true title, Jesus adds this other one as also being true, “the Son of man.” The two belong together. Nathanael has just called Jesus “King of Israel,” which again is true in the fullest sense. Yet the theocratic relation to Israel which Jesus himself stresses, 4:22; Matt. 15:24, is not enough, for he takes away “the sin of the world,” he is the Savior of all men, and in his title “the Son of man” this great universality is brought out. So the narrow and the broad titles belong together. Here we may also note that Jesus carefully avoids the use of any title that might be taken in a political sense. Nathanael calls him “King of Israel,” but Jesus does not adopt this as the usual designation for himself.

When questioned by Pilate, he carefully defines his kingship as being not of this world, and when Pilate in the superscription on the cross calls him “the King of the Jews,” he does this only to taunt the Jews because of their charges not because of a title that Jesus had given himself. This pertains also to the title “Messiah,” which the Jews understood in a national and political sense. To the Samaritan woman Jesus reveals that he is the Messiah (4:26), but he does not make this title common when denominating himself. We may say that by most frequently calling himself “the Son of man” he desired to do what he could to denationalize his Kingship and his Messiahship and to lift it to its true universal plane.

Whence does Jesus derive this title? The answer is: from Dan. 7:13, 14: “I saw in the night visions, and, behold, one like the Son of man came with the clouds of heaven, and came to the Ancient of days, and they brought him near before him. And there was given him dominion, and glory, and a kingdom, that all people, nations, and languages should serve him: his dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and his kingdom that which shall not be destroyed.” Efforts are made by von Hofmann, C.-K., Zahn, etc., to reduce “one like the Son of man” to a symbolic figure (like the “beast” in the previous verses), this figure symbolizing Israel. But the words of Daniel will not yield such a sense. The Hebrew ki, ὡς, “like,” is taken to mean that this person only resembled a man but was not a man, overlooking Rev. 1:13; 14:14, where this “like” is carefully retained in using the Daniel passage. Again, in Matt. 24:30 and 26:64 the Son of man comes in the clouds, exactly as in Daniel’s description.

Only God uses the clouds as his vehicle, hence “one like the Son of man” is divine. Yet Daniel sees him “like the Son of man,” which, although it does not directly call him “man,” intimates clearly enough that the grand figure described was also a man. See the thorough exegesis of Keil in Bibl. Com. ueber den Propheten Daniel, 197, etc., and 228, etc. Too indefinite is the explanation that Jesus drew the title “the Son of man” from the general references of the Old Testament to the bene adam, or ben adam, Aramaic bar enasch, “children of men,” “children of man,” “child of man,” and that only in this general sense are Dan. 7:13; Ps. 8:5 evidence. How from such general terms, which denote only men as men, a title could be drawn which denotes the one unique man who is the very Son of God, is difficult to see.

Dan. 7:13, 14 pictures the Messiah, yet the Jews had not drawn a title for the Messiah from it. This Jesus himself did. Hence when he kept using this title, it seemed strange, and the question could arise as in John 12:34, “Who is this Son of man?” Hence also no political ideas could attach themselves to this title. In Daniel, too, we observe the universality that inheres in the original description, which presents one who rules all people, nations, etc., in an everlasting kingdom and judges all the world. In Daniel the term is eschatological; Jesus uses it in the same way in Matthew 24:30 and 26:64, which is done also in the Revelation passages. But this Judge at the great consummation cannot be the judge only then, his work must reach back much farther, through the entire process of redemption, the consummation of which is the final judgment.

Very properly, thus, Jesus expands the title and uses it with reference to his person in the days of his humiliation. Even when speaking to these first six disciples, however, he refers to the heavenly glory of his person and to the angels at his command who shall also function so prominently in the judgment. Matt. 25:31; Mark 8:38. What Aramaic expression Jesus used for “the Son of man” no one is able to say. To search in Jewish literature for this title is hopeless. The references in the book of Enoch, even if the sections concerned are genuine, lead to nothing.

The surmise that, since Jesus also spoke Greek as for instance to Pilate, he may himself have employed the Greek ὁυἱὸςτοῦἀνθρώπου, may be quite correct, although the Gospels, Revelation, and Acts are wholly sufficient.

Modern criticism attacks the historical character of John’s account regarding the call of these first disciples by making them contradictory to Matt. 4:18, etc., and the parallels. But these two calls are essentially different. John describes the first attachment of these six men to Jesus when he gathers them as believers; Matthew describes a later event, the prerequisite of which John furnishes us. When these men left house, home, and their old calling in life, they already knew Jesus. John describes how they were first drawn to him.

R. A Grammar of the Greek New Testament in the Light of Historical Research, by A. T. Robertson, fourth edition.

C.-K Biblisch-theologisches Woerterbuch der Neutestamentlichen Graezitaet von D. D. Hermann Cremer, zehnte, etc., Auflage, herausgegeben von D. Dr. Julius Koegel.