John 10

CHAPTER X

IX. Jesus’ Testimony Concerning His Flock, 1–21

Without a break or a pause Jesus continues to speak before this audience, namely his disciples, the formerly blind beggar, the Pharisees, and other Jews. The connection of thought is close. Jesus has told the Pharisees in his audience that their wilful blindness entails abiding guilt. That statement deals with them as far as their own persons are concerned. But they posed as men who “see” and who “know” over against the common people (ὁὄχλος) who do “not know” the law, and whom they thus look down upon as accursed (see 7:49), among them being this wretched beggar: “and dost thou teach us (9:34)?” Thus these Pharisees set themselves up as the only true teachers and leaders of the people (Rom. 2:19, 20). In reality they were pseudo-teachers and pseudo-leaders. So Jesus continues and now treats these Pharisees in their damnable influence and work upon others.

But this time he employs a παροιμία (παρά, praeter; οἶμος, via), for which term we have no exact equivalent in English: a mode of teaching deviating from the usual way; a kind of extended mashal, containing a hidden sense. In the strict sense of the term a parable relates a definite story or case, it may be one that is ordinary, and again one that is quite beyond the ordinary; while a paroimia describes actions as they are known regularly to occur (the shepherd always uses the door; the robber always avoids the door and climbs over the wall). Moreover, in a paroimia an allegorical correspondence appears between the realities presented and the illustrative features used; in a parable no allegory is found. In explaining his own mashal Jesus gives us the key-point in the allegorical statement, “I am the door of the sheep” (v. 7).

“We see!” say the blind Pharisees. Very well, Jesus puts them to the test. He presents a simple, lucid mashal. Do they see? Not in the least (v. 6). To tell them that they are blind makes no impression on them; perhaps this public demonstration of their blindness will accomplish more.

To be sure, blind men cannot see, nor did Jesus expect these blind Pharisees to see what his paroimia means. Part of their very judgment is that they shall not see. Yet for such blind people the use of this uncommon way of teaching does at least one thing: by its very strangeness it remains in the memory and long after challenges the mind to penetrate to the true meaning. Perhaps thus at last the light will succeed in penetrating. In this case Jesus even condescends to explain his mashal and to elaborate it quite extensively (v. 7–18). In the case of many even this was in vain (v. 20), but others began to catch something of the light (v. 21).

Read Trench, the first three chapters of The Parables of our Lord.

John 10:1

1 Amen, amen, I say to you, He who does not enter by the door into the fold of the sheep but climbs up elsewhere, he is a thief and a robber; but he that enters by the door is a shepherd of the sheep. On the preamble see 1:51. It marks the weight of what is said. The brief mashal is perfect in every respect. Its obvious sense is quite axiomatic; so also is the higher reality which it describes. The picture is that of a sheepfold, a walled or fenced enclosure, where the sheep are kept at night, while during the day they are led out to pasture.

The vital point is the action of the two persons in regard to the door of the fold. He who shuns the door and gets in some other way, such as by climbing over the wall or fence, that man (ἐκεῖνος, a word John loves) is a thief who means to steal what does not belong to him, or a robber who would obtain by violence what belongs to another. In contrast to a man of this kind he who uses the door to get to the sheep is a shepherd of the sheep (ποιμήν without the article, like “a thief and a robber”; not: the shepherd, but merely a quality), his action shows that he stands in the relation of a shepherd to the sheep.

John 10:3

3 At this point the paroimia might be regarded as being complete. But Jesus extends the picture to make still clearer the great difference obtaining between the true shepherd and the man who is anything but that. To him the doorkeeper opens, and the sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and he leads them out. From the night we move on to the morning. The door is naturally guarded by a keeper. We now see why the thieving robber, who comes at night, avoids the door.

One who is a shepherd not only uses the door as a matter of course, he is also admitted there, known as a shepherd by the doorkeeper. The sheep, too, know him; they “hear” (ἀκούει in the sense of εἰδέναι, v. 4), i.e., recognize, his voice. In the early morning hour, when it is still perhaps dark, a shepherd, coming to get his sheep, calls to them as he enters, and they know him by his voice. Several shepherds use the fold for the night; so each one “calls his own sheep” in his own way. A beautiful touch is added by κατʼ ὄνομα (distributive, R. 608), “by name,” one name after the other; for he has a name for each of his sheep to which it trustfully responds. And so at early dawn he leads his own little flock forth.

And the other shepherds who use the fold do the same.

John 10:4

4 This action is more fully described. When he has pushed all his own out he goes before them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. As each sheep responds to its name, the shepherd takes hold of it, sees that it is his own, and pushes it out. When all are out, he walks ahead, and the little flock follows at his heels. This is how the shepherd uses the door. It agrees with his shepherd relation to the sheep, a relation which is mutual: he knows every one of them, they know him. More than this: they know “his voice.” See how this word “voice” is repeated in v. 3, 4, and 5. How do we believers know Jesus? By his voice as we hear it in his Word.

John 10:5

5 The contrast with any other man who is not the shepherd is now brought out. But a stranger they will in no way follow; on the contrary, they will flee from him, for they do not know the voice of strangers. What a stranger might want with the sheep does not need to be said; but he could intend only what a thief or robber would want. The picture is now that of the sheep grazing, some being scattered at a distance from the shepherd. The moment a stranger approaches and tries to reassure them with his voice, the sheep not only will not follow him, they will even turn and flee from him. The future tenses are not merely futuristic but volitive: they will not follow, they will flee; and οὑμή is the strongest form of negation with a future: “in no way.” Jesus might have used a conditional sentence; but the simple declarative sentences are far more effective.

Observe that the shepherd goes to the door and uses the door to get his sheep. The stranger tries to get in some other way, without using the door. So the door is still the key. Likewise, the last clause, “they do not know the voice of strangers,” is the direct opposite of v. 4, “they know his voice,” that of the shepherd. Of strangers, too, there are many who seek to steal the sheep; there is only one shepherd. As the shepherd’s “voice” is emphasized by three repetitions, so the fact that the sheep “know” his voice is twice repeated.

The two correspond: “voice”—“know.”

John 10:6

6 Now John adds in explanation: This paroimia Jesus spoke to them; they, however, did not realize what the things were which he was telling them. The subjects are abutted: “Jesus—they,” and thus put in contrast. What Jesus meant by his figurative language the Pharisees, who boasted, “We see,” failed completely to comprehend (aorist). The entire presentation is lucid; but, of course, it requires eyes to see through the lucid figure to the inner reality.

John 10:7

7 The first intention in using a mashal was to demonstrate to all present that the Pharisees were indeed utterly blind. Yet this form of teaching impresses itself upon the mind more than any other, and if there is any hope at all, it may eventually penetrate and enlighten. In so far as men will not see, they, indeed, shall not see, and this is a judgment upon them. For those who see, a mashal reveals the truth still more and by its very form enters more deeply and thus enlightens still more and opens the eyes of the heart more fully. A purpose of grace is thus combined with one of judgment. Which is to prevail in the end is decided by the heart of those upon whom the truth is thus brought to act with its power.

So John writes: Jesus, therefore, said to them again. One purpose was already accomplished; a still greater purpose may yet be accomplished even in the blind Pharisees. More light is added. If this does not penetrate, the judgment on these men will be more pronounced. If it does penetrate at last, grace and truth will win another victory. The added light will, of course, still more enlighten those who see.

So Jesus speaks “again.” He interprets his paroimia and, as in so many instances, adds new features to the interpretation, intensifying the power of the light to the utmost.

Amen, amen, I say to you, I am the door of the sheep. Jesus begins anew, just as in v. 1, with the same formula for verity and authority. Here is another great “I am,” ἐγώεἰμι. In the very first brief statement, “I am the door of the sheep,” Jesus offers the key to his entire mashal. Even a little spiritual sight should now see what Jesus really intends. The genitive is objective: the door “to the sheep,” not subjective: the door “for the sheep,” R. 501.

The article with the predicate, I am “the door,” means that the subject and the predicate are identical and interchangeable, R. 768. All who are really shepherds of the sheep (teachers, leaders, pastors) use Jesus as the one and only door to the sheep, are there admitted, acknowledged as shepherds, received as shepherds by the sheep, taking them out by the door, and as shepherds leading them to pasture.

When thus interpreting his own paroimia Jesus employs another type of teaching that is both highly interesting and effective, though it is at times misconceived and criticized. He weaves together the figure and the reality: “I am (reality) the door of the sheep (figure).” Trench calls this “Biblical allegory.” A fine example is Ps. 23; another John 15:1, etc. As the figure illumines the reality, so the reality brings out the contents and the beauty of the figure.

John 10:8

8 Jesus now takes the key and himself begins to unlock the door, not waiting for his hearers to do this. All, as many as came before me, are thieves and robbers; but the sheep did not hear them. Here we learn what “thief,” “robber,” “stranger,” and “strangers” signify in the paroimia. With the aorist ἦλθον Jesus speaks historically, but by adding εἰσί he brings the history down to the present Jewish leaders, some of whom stand before him at this moment. “All, as many as came before me,” is certainly not absolute as already 5:39 and 45, 46; 7:19, sufficiently attest. Moses, the prophets, and other godly leaders used “the door,” the promised Messiah. For Jesus that needs no saying.

All efforts to change the temporal meaning of πρὸἐμοῦ to something else break down. Jesus looks back to the false Jewish religious leadership that had come into control since the second Temple and was represented especially by the Pharisees, beside whom stood the Sadducees. No special meaning attaches to ἦλθον, as though these leaders came by their own authority. This is true enough, but the verb means only that these self-seeking leaders appeared in order to do their destructive work. Some have thought that Jesus here refers to false Messiahs who had come before his time. But this is historically incorrect and also untrue to the figure.

False Messiahs would be false doors to the fold not thieves and robbers who fight shy of “the door.” When Jesus adds that these “are” thieves and robbers he comes down to the present and includes the present Jewish leaders. All, past and present, “are” self-seekers.

All these are (reality) “thieves and robbers” (figure). They do not own the sheep and they are not shepherds. For their own evil purposes they attempt to get the sheep into their power. How ill the sheep would fare at their hands is left to the imagination. That they are, indeed, nothing but men who steal and rob is evidenced by the present representatives, who, like their predecessors, reject “the door.”

Jesus can say, “but the sheep did not hear (figure) them” (reality), namely those who came thus. The true children of God (“the sheep”) never do. Jesus does not complicate his figure by introducing people who follow false leaders: deceivers and deceived. These leaders rule by fear, 7:13; 9:22 and 34, the very opposite of the gentle care of shepherds. “Did not hear,” as in the mashal, means: did not recognize the shepherd voice and thus gladly and trustfully follow; they only seek to flee (v. 5), lest they be hurt.

John 10:9

9 One point of the figure has thus been interpreted, that concerning the thieves and robbers who shun the door. The other point is now also interpreted, that concerning the shepherds who use the door. So again Jesus emphasizes the key: I am the door in the same sense as before, although “of the sheep” is now omitted because it is readily understood. By me if anyone shall enter, he shall be safe and shall go in and go out and shall find pasture. Here the reality (“by me,” etc.) is again combined with the figure (“he shall be safe,” etc.). Jesus is speaking of the shepherds who use the door to enter the fold, who are thus entirely safe, go in to get their sheep, go out with them, and find good pasture for them.

Whereas Jesus before speaks of the past as it extends to the present, he now starts with the present and looks into the future (“shall enter,” subjunctive and thus future, from the present moment on; “shall be safe,” etc., all future tenses, starting now). The past is done with and cannot be changed; what happens from now on is another matter, and Jesus holds it up like a delightful promise: “Use the door, use the door!—then all will be well.”

The interpretation is upset at this point when the figure is changed from the shepherd to the sheep: “If the sheep shall enter, it shall be saved and shall go in and out and find pasture.” What prompts this view is the verb σωθήσεται, which is referred to the reality instead of to the figure, in the sense of “shall be saved,” i.e., rescued from sin and damnation. Under stress of this idea the words of the entire verse are scanned in order to find support for thinking of the sheep and not of a shepherd. Thus support is found in the fact that Jesus omits the genitive “of the sheep” and says only, “I am the door.” Yet it is obvious that if he now intends to speak of the sheep and not of a shepherd, the addition of the genitive would be decidedly in place. Although Jesus again says, “I am the door” and then with emphasis, “By me if anyone shall enter,” we are told that the figure is now expanded and becomes that of the Shepherd (Jesus). Going in and going out is made to apply only to the sheep and is denied to the shepherd by thinking that these verbs refer to a home, which the dweller enters and leaves at pleasure.

The verb σωθήσεται is part of the figure. This verb means not only to be rescued and delivered but includes the condition that results, to be safe. Here the context calls for the latter, and this is the case whether the shepherd or the sheep are referred to. For neither is rescued, either is said only to be safe. Once this is settled, our eyes will not be closed to all else that applies only to a shepherd, leaving nothing that can be properly applied to a sheep. The subject τὶς is masculine, “anyone” (a person), and cannot refer to a sheep, the Greek for which is neuter, πρόβατον.

The figure has not become that of sheep lost and scattered, of which Jesus now says that, if any such sheep enters the door, it will be saved. How else but by the door would it enter the fold? And even if such a ridiculous thing could be possible as the sheep climbing into the fold over the wall or the fence, would it not be saved and safe just as well? The image is not that of the fold as a refuge to which a sheep may flee for safety, for in the next breath Jesus speaks of going out and finding pasture. Would the sheep then be exposed again? Moreover, the entire conception of a sheep going in and out of the fold at pleasure is wrong.

No sheep does that. It is led in by the shepherd and let out by him. Nor does the sheep go out and seek and perhaps find pasture for itself. This is not at all the business of the sheep but that of the shepherd, and he always makes certain of the pasture. All is out of line if we regard “anyone” as a reference to a sheep; all is perfectly in line when we refer it to a shepherd.

If the shepherd uses the door, Jesus says, “he will be safe.” The opposite of entering by the door is climbing up elsewhere (v. 1); this only a thief or robber does. When doing so the criminal is never safe but in the gravest danger of being discovered and punished. The shepherd uses the door for any business he may have in the fold, and thus he is, indeed, safe. The porter knows him and raises no alarm. He may go in and out whenever he finds it necessary. This suffices for the order of the two verbs: “shall go in and shall go out.” Of course, this is connected with his shepherd duties.

We find the same order in Acts 1:21, but reversed in Num. 27:17; Deut. 31:2; 1 Sam. 18:13 and 16, and 1 Kings 3:7,—all with reference to men attending to their duties. The order of the verbs is governed solely by the viewpoint. In the shepherd’s case his going in and going out is not confined to taking the sheep into the fold at night and bringing them out again in the morning, for here no phrase is added such as “before them” in v. 4; the shepherd also has other occasions for going into the fold and coming out again. With all this the last clause agrees, “and shall find pasture” for his sheep. This is the final touch which marks him as a shepherd whose concern is the welfare of the sheep. The thief and robber act far otherwise (v. 10).

Yet σωθήσεται is misinterpreted even when all else is rightly interpreted. Jesus is thought to leave his figure by introducing the reality: this shepherd himself shall be saved from damnation. He has this in mind because he so uses this verb in 3:17 and 5:34. The answer is that these passages are literal and without a figure. In our passage the verb is embedded among figurative terms and is thus like them—figurative. When we are pointed to 1 Cor. 3:15 for a case where this verb is used literally in a figurative connection, the answer is that this is a mistake; 1 Cor. 3:15 is figurative throughout, verb and all, just like our present passage. The claim that σώζειν is always used in a literal sense cannot be upheld.

John 10:10

10 In order to throw the character and the actions of the shepherd who uses the door into bold relief, Jesus paints the black picture of the thief. The thief does not come except to steal and to slaughter and to destroy. No need to add that the thief is also a robber; no need to specify that he deals thus with the sheep. The three aorists in the purpose clause express actuality. He may kill the sheep right in the fold in order to stop its bleating. The last verb is added to bring out the disastrous effect upon the poor sheep: it is destroyed. Surely a contrast to the shepherd—going in and going out and finding pasture for the sheep! In this dreadful work the thief cannot be safe (σωθήσεται).

Jesus now rounds out and completes his interpretation of the mashal. The coming of the thief for his nefarious purpose is contrasted with the coming of Jesus and his blessed purpose. I (emphatic ἐγώ) came, in order that they may have life and may have abundance. This statement is literal. The two plural verbs leave the subjects unnamed; they are the persons meant by the sheep. “I came” means: from heaven into this world (9:39; 8:23; 3:17). Others keep coming (the present tense used with reference to the thief for his coming to the fold) to destroy; the purpose of Jesus is to bestow life.

On the expression “to have life” compare 3:15. Note the durative present tense ἔχωσιν and its emphatic repetition: have as an enduring possession. The repetition of the verb “may have” makes the second part of the purpose stand out more independently than if Jesus had said only, “may have life and abundance.” The neuter adjective περισσόν is treated as a noun, “abundance” or “superfluity,” namely of all the blessings which go with the true spiritual life; hence not, “may have it (life) abundantly” (R. V.), or “more abundantly” (A. V.), for this “life” has no degrees.

In this last statement Jesus tells us literally what he means by calling himself “the door” in relation to the sheep. He is the mediator of life with all its abundant blessings. We need not press this “abundance” to mean merely pasture for the sheep. It goes beyond that and includes everything connected with the door—and even this figure, as we shall see in a moment, is too weak to picture it all. All who approach the sheep by the door and remain in proper relation to the door are true shepherds, because they employ the mediation (διʼ ἐμοῦ, v. 9) of Jesus; all others who reject this mediation are branded as thieves and robbers. At this point the interpretation of the paroimia (v. 1–6) ends. It intends to portray just so much, and what that is Jesus himself has set forth in clear and simple words.

John 10:11

11 The paroimia in v. 1–6 is a unit and its interpretation, v. 7–10, is another unit, the second exactly matching the first. Both pivot on Jesus as the door and distinguish the shepherd from the thief by the relation of each to the door. But what makes Jesus the door? In other words, why is the relation of any religious leader to this man Jesus so absolutely decisive, that if one uses Jesus he is, indeed, a shepherd, and if he rejects Jesus he is, indeed, a thief? The answer to this question lies in the conception which Jesus presents of himself as the door of the fold, but this conception is veiled in the image. In other words, this figure does not and can not reveal that vital point about Jesus.

Therefore Jesus now draws this veil aside. He does this by means of a new figure. We hear no more about the door. A new picture is thrown on the screen. Its center and key is Jesus as the Good Shepherd. Around this center and, of course, in vital relation to it a new set of figures appears.

While this new picture is different and thus distinct from the one first used, it is, nevertheless, related to the other. We now have the one Supreme Shepherd. We still have the sheep, but now the hireling is introduced, plus the wolf, and the vital point is the relation of the Great Shepherd and of the wretched hireling to the sheep, and of the sheep to them. Thus all that lies back of the figure of the door is now revealed by the allied picture. Again, as in the paroimia and its interpretation, law and gospel are combined in order to open the eyes of the blind and still more to enlighten those who see. This time the imagery and its meaning are woven together, but in such a way that toward the end the language becomes entirely literal.

One interpretation starts with the observation that in the Old Testament kings are at times likened to shepherds and deduces that by calling himself the door and the shepherd Jesus here pictures himself as the true King of Israel over against the house of Herod as Idumean usurpers, the Asmoneans who also were illegitimate, the Sadducean high priests, and one or two pseudo-Messiahs; and the Pharisees are left out. This political conception, wholly foreign to Jesus, departs from the connection with the two previous sections which deal with the spiritual leadership of the Pharisees as teachers and say nothing about princely rule and princes. In the Old Testament no king is called “a door,” to say nothing about the other impossibilities that result when princes and kings are found in the imagery of Jesus. In the Old Testament the figure of the shepherd is by no means confined to kings; in the New Testament it is certainly used only in a religious sense to refer to spiritual teachers and guides.

Twice Jesus says, “I am the door”; twice he now adds, I am the Good Shepherd, and the correspondence is not accidental. Here appears another great ἐγώεἰμι, I AM. The linguistic points in the predicate ὁποιμὴνὁκαλὸς are sufficient to free us from a number of fanciful ideas. When the predicate has the article it is identical and convertible with the subject, R. 768. Hence, this shepherd is absolutely in a class by himself; no other shepherd can ever be grouped with him. Thus we cannot attach to the article the idea of previous reference, for this Supreme Shepherd has not been mentioned before; nor the idea that this shepherd is now to be described, which is true but is not implied by the article; nor a reference to Old Testament prophecies (Ps. 23:1; 80:1; Ezek. 34:11–16; etc.), which nothing here indicates, as also the main point in the description of this shepherd is entirely absent from the Old Testament imagery of the shepherd.

Jesus does not add the adjective καλός predicatively; for this would say only that “the shepherd is good” and in the same class with other good shepherds. Jesus says far more; he is in a class by himself. He does not say ὁκαλὸςποιμήν; for this would place the emphasis only on “good” over against “bad,” or on “excellent” over against “inferior.” Jesus does not here compare himself with other shepherds; he asserts far more than that he is relatively better than other shepherds, namely that he is a shepherd in a sense in which no other man can ever be a shepherd. This is the thought in making the predicate read ὁποιμὴνὁκαλός. By adding the adjective with a repetition of the article both the noun and the adjective become strongly emphatic, and the latter becomes a sort of climax, an apposition to the noun by the use of a separate article, R. 776 and 468. Unfortunately, the English is unable to reproduce this weight of meaning in translation.

Jesus is the shepherd, absolutely in a class by himself as the shepherd; and he is excellent with an excellence unique and all his own. Der gute, der treffliche Hirte, schlechthin gedacht, wie er sein soll; daher der Artikel und die nachdrueckliche Stellung des Adjektivs. Meyer.

At once the proof is added, the more effective because of the asyndeton: The Good Shepherd lays down his life in behalf of the sheep. The expression τιθέναιτὴνψυχήν is peculiar to John who uses it repeatedly; M.-M. do not find it in the papyri. In order to understand what Jesus means it is quite necessary to take the entire predicate together: “lays down his life in behalf of the sheep,” as well as at once to add what is made so emphatic in v. 17, 18 about his doing this of his own accord and about taking up his life again. One may, indeed, compare the laying down of a garment and taking it up again in 13:4 and 12, yet the resemblance is only superficial. A better analogy appears in 13:37 where Peter offers to lay down his life in behalf of Jesus, and in 15:13 where a friend lays down his life for his friends; but both of these fall far short in that neither has power to take up his life again as Jesus has. The act of Jesus is absolutely without analogy.

Men may risk and even lose their lives for others, but that is all they are able to do; they cannot recover their lives. Jesus lays his life down “in order to take it up again” (v. 17). That is not merely an addition, a second act following the first; that shows that the first act differs essentially from any similar act of others.

This eliminates the idea drawn from v. 12 that Jesus, unlike the hireling, faces the wolf and lets the wolf kill him in defense of the sheep. Little good that would do the sheep, for after the shepherd is killed, the poor sheep would be utterly at the mercy of the wolf without a single hand to interpose. The only deliverance of the sheep would lie in the shepherd’s killing or driving off the wolf, himself retaining his life for their benefit. Jesus is the one and only shepherd, who saves the sheep by laying down and then taking up his life again. We see that this is another case in which the human figure is too weak and small to cover the divine reality. The reality should not be reduced to the small dimensions of the figure. Where the figure gives out, we must do as Jesus does (v. 17, 18), proceed without figure, with the reality alone.

The meaning of Jesus is lost because of a limited view of the preposition ὑπέρ, of which it is said that this preposition cannot designate substitution, and that only ἀντί can mean “instead of.” A study of R. 572, etc., on ἀντί and R. 630, etc., on ὑπέρ clears up the matter completely. We note that Abbott, Johannine Grammar, p. 276, finds that in almost all instances in John ὑπέρ denotes the death of one for the many. Robertson, The Minister and his Greek New Testament, 35, etc., has an entire chapter on ὑπέρ as designating “instead of” in the ostraca and the papyri. We quote: “When we turn to the New Testament from the papyri there can, of course, be no grammatical reluctance to allowing the same usage for ὑπέρ if the context calls for it. Theological prejudice must be overruled.” “It is futile to try to get rid of substitution on grammatical arguments about ὑπέρ.” “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ appears precisely in this, that, though rich, he became poor that we, through his poverty, might become rich. That is substitution.

The one who knew no sin God made to be sin in our stead (ὑπέρ) that we might become God’s righteousness in him (2 Cor. 5:21). All this and more Paul poured into the preposition ὑπέρ. The papyri forbid our emptying ὑπέρ of this wealth of meaning in the interest of any theological theory.” Moulton, Deissmann, and other authorities on the ostraca and the papyri in relation to the language of the New Testament agree.

In brief, ἀντί really means “at the end of” and thus suggests contrast, succession, substitution, opposition, as the case may be; while ὑπέρ means “over” and thus comes to mean “concerning,” “beyond,” “in behalf of,” “instead of.” The context invariably decides. We may translate ὑπέρ “in behalf of,” but this is no more exact than “instead of.” When Jesus dies ὑπέρ the sheep and then takes back his life again, the only sense in which this could possibly benefit the sheep is by way of substitution—he dies in their stead. An ordinary shepherd might die in defense of his flock, but this would not benefit his flock in the least; after he was dead, the flock would become a helpless prey. Jesus came that the sheep may have life and may have abundance (v. 10). This is achieved, strange to say, by his vicarious and substitutionary death and by the still stranger act of again taking back his life out of death. How this death serves in winning life for the sheep is seen in Matt. 20:28 and Mark 10:45, “he gives his life as a ransom for many,” λύτρονἀντὶπολλῶν.

The idea of a ransom is not brought in here where the imagery of the shepherd and the sheep is used. But it is in vain to argue that the sheep already belong to the Shepherd and thus cannot yet be acquired by him; or that his ideal possession of the sheep cannot here be turned into a real possession. All such stressing of the figure in order to bar out the idea of substitution in ὑπέρ is beside the mark, for it bars out much more, namely the entire idea of this Supreme Shepherd with his power to lay down his life and to take it up again—something that is utterly beyond anything we know of human shepherds. When saying that he lays down his life “for the sheep,” the sacrifice of Jesus, which is for the world and all men, is viewed with reference to its actual final result, which appears in the saved. This view is taken repeatedly in the Scriptures and never furnishes the least ground for the idea of a limited atonement.

The astonishing realities here clothed in the figure of the shepherd and the sheep are chiefly two: first, that instead of some sheep of the flock serving as a blood-sacrifice for the shepherd, here the very reverse takes place—the shepherd makes himself the blood-sacrifice for the sheep; secondly, that whereas all other blood-sacrifices yield their lives in sacrificial death never to regain them, this marvelous shepherd does, indeed, like them also yield his life but, absolutely unlike them, takes his life back again. A third point may be added: all other blood-sacrifices die without volition of their own, this shepherd of his own will dies for the sheep. And a fourth: no other blood-sacrifice by its death brings forth and bestows life upon others, but this is exactly what the blood-sacrifice of the Supreme Shepherd does. Only Jesus has ever used a human figure in this divine manner, and unless we rise to the realities thus actually pictured by him, we ourselves, like the blind Pharisees, remain in the dark.

Here Jesus prophesies, for only in the light of his actual death and resurrection can these realities be understood. None of the hearers of Jesus understood the full import of his words at the moment. He speaks for the future, just as he does in so many other instances. After the brief space of six months all will be plain. That too, we may take it, is why Jesus uses this figurative language with its astonishing relation to the realities, language which by its very form is bound to embed itself in the memories of his hearers, on which they will ponder until the final actualities reveal all its divine meaning.

John 10:12

12 The hireling, not also being a shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, beholds the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and flees; and the wolf snatches them and scatters—because he is only a hireling and is not concerned about the sheep. It lies on the surface that the negative picture of the hireling is intended to throw into full relief the positive image of the Good Shepherd. Some think that this is all, and thus make their task of interpretation very easy: the hireling is an imaginary person, intended to portray nobody in particular, and the drama of the wolf is a mere embellishment without reality back of the picture. It has well been objected that this view cannot be correct, because Jesus describes the hireling at such length. Everybody also, at least as far as the author has found, forgets about the true and faithful human shepherds, so beautifully and completely pictured to us in their relation to the sheep in v. 2–4, who most certainly must be placed between the Supreme Shepherd on the one hand and the hireling on the other. These true human shepherds are not imaginary but godly teachers and guides of the flock; hence also the hireling cannot be a mere shadow but must be the opposite of the true human shepherds, a picture of all false prophets, teachers, and guides, those of the days of Jesus and of all other days.

As the godly teachers resemble Jesus in their love and care for the flock, so the hireling is their very opposite. And this, too, Jesus brings out in his picture of the hireling, and it helps us not a little in understanding his meaning.

We should not think of the human shepherd and teacher portrayed in v. 2–4 as being the actual owner of the sheep, for no human teacher owns the children of God over whom he is placed. This aids us in regard to the hireling. We are not to think of him as a hired hand employed for wages by the owner of the sheep and thus serving as a substitute shepherd in care of the sheep, let us say at least temporarily, perhaps only for a day. He is not hired by the owner of the sheep, he has no connection with him in any way. This becomes clearer when we note that even Jesus is not the real owner of the sheep. They belong to God.

Only because he is sent by God on the great mission of redemption is Jesus placed over the sheep. “Thine they are, and thou gavest them to me” (17:6). Only thus does Jesus “have” the sheep (v. 16) and does he call them “mine own” (v. 14). Then as the Father sent Jesus to be the Supreme Shepherd, so Jesus in turn sends all true teachers also as shepherds under himself (17:18). This helps to show who the hireling really is. Jesus never hired, employed, or sent him in any way. “Not also being a shepherd,” καὶοὑκὢνποιμήν, means that the name “shepherd” does not in any sense include him. We cannot translate, “He that is a hireling and not the shepherd” (A.

V.), or “a shepherd” (R. V.), because ὁμισθωτός is definite, “the hireling,” and the subject of the sentence not a predicate after ὤν. The ὤν is merely attributive to μισθωτός (R. 764), and καί is “also”; a hireling, as such “not also” like Jesus and the teachers sent by Jesus, in any manner to be classed with them as a shepherd. Observe that οὑ with the participle ὤν makes the negation clear-cut (read R. 1136 and 1163) and means that as a hireling he is the direct opposite of a shepherd.

“Whose own the sheep are not” thus has nothing to do with real ownership but denies only the delegated ownership such as a shepherd has (v. 2–4) to whom the sheep are entrusted by the owner. Jesus never sent him or entrusted him with a single sheep. How the hireling managed to get hold of the sheep is left unsaid yet with the plain implication that it was done in an illegal way. He usurped the place of the shepherd; he stole the sheep in some way. Here the figure of the thief and the robber amalgamates with that of the hireling, and the latter amplifies the former. Neither thief nor hireling cares for the life or the welfare of the sheep, as we see this primarily in Jesus (v. 10b), and secondarily in those sent by Jesus (v. 2–4).

All the hireling-thief wants is sooner or later to kill the sheep, in order to enrich himself with the flesh, hide, and wool of the sheep. In this process the poor sheep perish; they lose everything in order that the hireling-thief may gain something.

Now we see why the man thus described, first by a participial modifier and secondly by a relative clause, is termed a μισθωτός or “hireling.” We must drop the meaning “hired servant” (Mark 1:20) and any hiring by Jesus. The μισθός or “pay” this man expects is not derived from Jesus, but consists of what the fellow is able to extract from making away with the sheep he has stolen. If he were a hired man with legitimate wages and thus connected with the sheep, he would in some sense at least be a shepherd, an unfaithful shepherd, indeed, for running off in the hour of danger, yet even then a shepherd; but this he is not, οὑκὤν. Due to the portrait here drawn by Jesus the term “hireling” has come to stand for a base type of character, one that is venal, mercenary, utterly selfish. In the portrait drawn by Jesus we have this type of character in its most fully developed form. This hireling is a hireling through and through. In actual life we often meet men who exhibit only some one hireling trait, but this does not affect the picture here drawn by Jesus, which has often enough found its complete counterpart in real life.

Beyond question, this hireling portrays all false religious teachers found in the visible church. The portrait is extreme in order to include also the worst teachers of this type. The lesser and partial types are thereby not excluded. Jesus undoubtedly had in mind the Pharisees as a class, some of whom stood before him at the moment; he had in mind the Sadducees as well, for their influence on the people was equally pernicious. The hireling character of the Sanhedrin and of its leaders is plainly brought to view in 11:48; even Pilate saw it, Matt. 27:18; Mark 15:10. Other figurative portrayals of it are found in Matt. 22:38; 24:48, 49.

The objection that, if Jesus intended the thief and the robber to apply to the false Jewish leaders, the hireling, because it is a different figure, cannot also apply to them, is groundless. Not only are the two figures related, as has been shown, their very difference brings out two allied wicked features in these Jewish leaders, showing in two ways what their true character is, how far they are from God and Jesus, and how ill God’s children fare at their hands. Moreover, does not Jesus also use two figures with reference to himself: the door and the Good Shepherd?

Some commentators do not seem to understand what the wolf is really intended to picture. It is true that the wolf is the natural enemy of the sheep, and that thus we here have the wolf and not the lion or the bear (1 Sam. 17:34–37). If, however, the sheep signify the actual children of God, then their natural enemy cannot be a mere figure of speech without substance. This wolf does actual damage to God’s children, and actual damage to actual people is not wrought by mere embellishments of rhetoric. These ways of interpreting the wolf are unrewarding.

Another way is to parallel the wolf with the doorkeeper in v. 3. Since nobody in particular is prefigured by the latter, nobody in particular is said to be prefigured by the former. True, the doorkeeper is only incidental to the door of the fold, for the thief would even prefer an unguarded door to climbing the wall, and thus the door and its keeper come to constitute a unit image. Jesus is not the unguarded door by which anybody may reach the sheep at will; he is the guarded door of the fold, and only as the guarded door does he reveal who the shepherds and who the thieves are. Let us also avoid the thought that the guarded door actually protects the sheep against all harm. The thief gets to the sheep in spite of the door and does them harm.

But where is there anything that is in any way like the door, with which we might combine the image of the wolf and thus eliminate any special interpretation of the wolf? The search reveals only the more that the wolf is an independent figure and therefore portrays an actuality.

More promising is the reference to Matt. 7:15, where the false prophets in sheep’s clothing appear as rending wolves, and to Acts 20:29, where false teachers as grievous wolves spare not the flock; for here the devil and his agents are identified. Yet they are not always thus identified; see 1 Pet. 5:8; Eph. 4:27; 6:11; James 4:7; Rev. 20:2 and 10; and other passages. The argument that, since the Pharisees are identified with the devil (even called his children, 8:44), the devil cannot here be opposed to the hireling, unless forsooth we mean to chase the Pharisees by the Pharisees, thus proves untenable. Such references to the devil only obscure the main point of the figures of Jesus, which unquestionably centers in the sheep. From the door down to the wolf the life and the welfare of the sheep are the pivot on which everything turns: “that they may have life and may have abundance.” Yes, when the sheep are obscured, we see only the hireling running away from the wolf. But Jesus says that the hireling runs away from the sheep: “he leaves the sheep and flees”; Jesus makes the wolf attack, not the hireling, but the sheep: “he snatches them and scatters.” Always, always the sheep are placed in the center. Thus the hireling and the wolf actually cooperate in the hurt to the sheep: the former contributes his part by running away from the sheep, and the latter his part by pouncing upon the sheep.

Surely, we all feel a tacit implication at this point. If, instead of this hireling, one of the true shepherds of Jesus were with the sheep, he would attack the wolf, if necessary, yield his life in the combat and thus prove himself a genuine shepherd. The church has had such noble undershepherds, who had learned well their role in the school of Jesus.

Many are agreed that the wolf does denote a reality. Those who deny the existence of the devil bar this being out on a priori grounds. They reconstruct the sacred texts according to their own assumptions, not only on this but likewise on many other points. To them the debate is no longer on exegetical questions. They are free to discard the entire Gospel of John. In seeking for the reality intended by the wolf many good Bible scholars decline to admit that this reality is the devil.

They admit the devil’s existence, even as the Scriptures teach, but when it comes to the wolf, without assigning any actual reason, they simply say that the devil is out of the question. They prefer some tool or tools of the devil, even saying that the devil is behind these tools. They think of the Roman power, or more indefinitely of the anti-Christian world power, of the heretics, or quite abstractly of the principle of evil. It is certainly true that the devil works through many agencies in seeking to destroy God’s flock. Yet, as in this case, the Scriptures frequently leave these agencies unmentioned and speak of the archenemy of the church himself. Until sounder reasons are offered why the wolf here prefigures, not the devil himself, but only his tools, we are constrained to hold that the wolf is the devil.

Nothing also does he like better than to find a hireling with God’s sheep instead of some shepherd sent by Jesus and made courageous by him. Then he can complete what the hireling has begun: snatch with his fangs and kill by destroying the faith in the hearts of God’s children; scatter helplessly those not at once spiritually crushed by making them shift for themselves in the wilderness of this world until he either snatches them too or until their spiritual life faints and dies out of itself.

John 10:13

13 Twice the wolf is mentioned; twice the hireling; even as Jesus twice declares, “I am the Good Shepherd.” Note also the arrangement: in the center: “wolf … wolf”; on either side of the wolf: “hireling … hireling”; on either side of the hireling: “I am the Good Shepherd … I am the Good Shepherd.” This pattern is by no means accidental. By the fact that they are mentioned, all three are made important. So we now revert to the hireling. Why does he act as just described? Because he is what he is: “a hireling.” The word is now the predicate, whereas before it was the subject; hence we now have no article, thus stressing the quality expressed in the term—a base, abominable hireling.

When first mentioned, the hireling is characterized by his relation to the sheep; in the second mention likewise, but with a marked difference: first, Jesus never made him a shepherd and never placed him over any of his sheep; secondly, in his own heart he has no love for the sheep. Two things mark the true human shepherd: Jesus places him in charge of some of his sheep; he himself is filled with concern for the sheep in his charge. As the hireling has no inward relation to the Supreme Shepherd Jesus, so also he has no inward relation to any of the sheep for which the Supreme Shepherd Jesus lays down his life. These two negatives really are one; neither exists without the other. So the opposite positives are also one, neither being found in a man without the other. The hireling is centered only in—himself. Let the wolf rend and scatter, just so the hireling saves his own hide.

14, 15) I am the Good Shepherd—this testimony rings out for the second time. More sharply even than before the pure white image of the Good Shepherd stands out against the black background of the hireling. Yet this is by no means all. Jesus is contrasting himself with the false teachers and leaders of the Jews. It is their own black image that stands out the blacker against the pure white of Jesus. This contrast, terrible as we look from Jesus to the Pharisees and their allies, blessed as we look from them to him, Jesus leaves in the memories of his enemies there to do its work; to act, if possible, as a blow to crush the conscience and then as a balm to bind up and to heal; and if this be not possible, to act as a sentence of judgment and doom.

They will remember—this they cannot help; they will question again and again what he meant. In six brief months the actual death and the actual resurrection of the Good Shepherd, now foretold so clearly, will re-enforce every word they have heard. No; none of these words are mere rhetorical embellishment; all of them reveal vital facts.

We have two parts, each headed, “I am the Good Shepherd.” The first shows him to be that by his relation to the sheep (v. 11–13); the second, by his relation to the Father as well as to the sheep (v. 14–18). The first presents only the main act, laying down his life; the second again presents this act (v. 17, etc.) more fully and adds its connection with the Father as well as its result for the sheep (v. 14–16). The first remains on earth, the second joins heaven and earth. The wolf, the hireling, the door, the Good Shepherd are each mentioned twice, the latter two with the mighty I AM emphasis. The Father is mentioned three times and each time in connection with the Good Shepherd’s office; the Father gave him that office (v. 18, last sentence), loves him for executing its supreme part (v. 17), knows him as owning him for his own (v. 14)—these three stated in reverse order.

I am the Good Shepherd and I know mine own, and mine own know me, even as the Father knows me, and I know the Father; and my life I lay down in behalf of the sheep. The very name “Good Shepherd” connotes “the sheep” that belong to him and for whom he is such a shepherd. So here again everything circles about the sheep. The figure is retained throughout, for τὰἐμά is neuter, not “mine own” (persons) but “mine own” (sheep, πρόβατα); but, as now used, this figure becomes completely transparent. “Mine own” sheep are all who in heart and soul, by living faith and trust belong to Jesus who dies in their stead and rises again. “Mine own” is in silent contrast to others who are “not mine own,” all those who refuse to yield heart and soul in trust to Jesus and his sacrifice. Nothing further is here said concerning these others, simply because they are away from the line of thought.

Four times Jesus uses the verb γινώσκειν in its pregnant sense, which has been well defined as noscere cum affectu et effectu, to know with love and appropriation as one’s very own and to reveal that loving ownership by all the corresponding actions. Not to know thus is to realize what is not one’s own and to repudiate what is thus not known. When the verb is used in this intensive sense, we must be careful not to eliminate the idea of knowing with the mind and intellect, for to this basic meaning the thought of ownership, appropriation, love, and all the manifestations of love are added. While the added thought extends to the affections and the will and thus intensifies the concept, this added thought does not eliminate the knowing of the mind and turn it into an act of the will. Compare 2 Tim. 2:19, and for the negative Matt. 7:23. In this affective and effective way the Father “knows” Jesus and Jesus “knows” him.

After the same manner (καθὼς) Jesus “knows” his own, and they “know” him. The latter can, of course, be only “as” the former, because of the disparity in the persons. The divine persons are equal, and they know each other accordingly. The Good Shepherd and his own are not equal; his own are only men with such spiritual abilities as they have acquired. Yet the relation between the divine Savior and the human souls he has saved is a lovely reflection of the supreme relation between the Father and the Son. Always and always Jesus “knows” his own and in countless blessed ways manifests that he knows.

And always they “know” him, their Good Shepherd, and all that he is to them. In this life their knowledge of him is still imperfect and must constantly grow; but even in the life to come their knowledge of him will be that of finite creatures, while his knowledge of them is divine. Here is the place for many comforting applications. The neuter plural τὰἐμά is here used with the plural verb γινώσκουσι, showing that the Koine has broken away from the Attic rule of construing neuter plurals only with singular verbs. This is done not merely because persons are referred to, the rule as such no longer holds, and liberty prevails. R. 403, etc.

The effort to connect the γνῶσις of which Jesus here speaks, together with the γνῶσις which Paul expounds in First Corinthians, with that of the pagan Hellenic mysteries, or at least to draw light from the latter for the true understanding of the former, has proven abortive. The two move in mutually exclusive spheres. The pagan idea is pantheistic, mingling him who knows with him that is known; the Christian idea is theistic, never mingling the two. Paul even ranks γνῶσις far lower than ἀγάπη and πίστις—spiritual fields into which pagan thought never entered. The character of the pagan γνῶσις is magically physical, and it is doubtful whether it ever rose to something even mental; the character of Christian γνῶσις is spiritual throughout and personal in the highest degree. The more we trust and love Jesus, the more we know him and realize just who he is and what he is to us. C.-K. 244.

While it is true enough that the hireling does not “know” the sheep, since they are not even “his own,” even as the sheep do not “know” him, it is more than doubtful that Jesus still has the hireling in mind. Instead of looking downward to illustrate by means of a contrast, Jesus now looks upward to illustrate by a similarity: “even as the Father,” etc. The tenses used are present, and yet they evidently refer to no specific time, being true for any and all time. Let us call them gnomic (R. 866).

When Jesus adds with καί, “and my life I lay down in behalf of (instead of) the sheep,” this repetition from v. 11 is made coordinate with the preceding and must not be made subordinate even in our thought, as if Jesus means, “I know mine own, etc., because I lay down my life,” etc. The true connection is: “I am the Good Shepherd”: first evidence: “and my life I lay down,” etc. The sense of the repetition is the same as in v. 10. The subject lies in the verb τίθημι and is thus in the first person, a merely formal change. The emphasis on “my life” (nothing less!) is the same as in v. 10. In both verses we have the present tense, “I lay down,” which, indeed, is futuristic, “I am laying down,” i.e., will do so presently; but not as R. 870 suggests, “covering the whole of Christ’s life viewed as a unit (constative aorist).” This would mean that Jesus “lays down his life” for the sheep by living his life for their benefit, whereas what Jesus means is that he lays down his life by dying, for he takes it up again (v. 17) by his resurrection from the dead.

John 10:16

16 Because they are general and thus indefinite the gnomic tenses in v. 14 require that something more should be added. After saying that Jesus knows his own (sheep), and that they know him, he now adds that he is thinking of all his sheep throughout all the ages of the world. And other sheep I have which are not of this fold; them also I must lead, and they will hear my voice. And there shall be one flock, one shepherd. The word “other” is defined by the relative clause, “which are not of this fold.” Yet the implication is not a second fold in which these other sheep exist. Jesus knows only of one church or kingdom of God.

When he spoke, this existed in the form of the old covenant originally made with Abraham and embraced the true children of God in the Jewish nation and the few Gentiles who had come to the true faith and had identified themselves with this true Israel of God. Paul knows of only one olive tree in Rom. 11:7, from which the unbelieving Jews were broken out and into which the believing Gentiles shall be grafted. In Eph. 2:12 he writes of only one household and city, into which the Jews and the Gentiles are equally admitted, being not any longer two classes but one. These “other sheep,” then, are the hosts of future Gentile believers.

Jesus says only that they “are not of this fold,” that they did not grow up in the old covenant. He does not say that he will “bring” them into “this fold,” i.e., as this is now constituted in the old covenant. The verb is ἀγαγεῖν, “to lead” as a shepherd leads his flock, not συναγαγεῖν or προσαγαγεῖν. The Gentiles are not to become Jews in order to become members of the flock. What he says is that he will lead them as the Shepherd just as he leads the believers of Israel. A new era and covenant is thus in prospect, which will be consummated under Jesus when his redemptive mission is accomplished.

He speaks of these “other sheep” as already being πρόβατα or “sheep” and even says that “I have” them. It has rightly been urged that this is not a mere prolepsis; “other sheep” might possibly be, but certainly not the verb “I have.” Compare similar statements in 11:52 and Acts 18:10. “I have” denotes divine foreknowledge and, we may add, predestination; but the latter not in the sense of an absolute decree, or a decree according to some mysterious principle which simply selects some and passes by others. Just as Jesus foresaw the existence of these other sheep as men, born into human life, so he foresaw the success of his saving grace in their hearts, the birth of their spiritual life as children of God. As far as predestination is concerned, this embraces all in whom the grace and gospel of Jesus succeed to the end. These God chose for himself as his own elect even before the world began.

With the hosts of future Gentile believers before his prophetic eyes, Jesus says not only, “them also I must lead,” but adds the counterpart, “and they will hear my voice.” As their Shepherd Jesus will lead them, and as his sheep they will hear his voice. The verbs “must lead” and “will hear” correspond so closely to shepherd leading and sheep hearing and following their shepherd, that ἀγαγεῖν cannot mean “bring” or “feed.” How these Gentiles become believers is not indicated. Why should it be, when it is in the same way as Jews come to faith? Jesus portrays these Gentiles as his sheep, following him as their Shepherd, just as his Jewish believers now follow him. The conversion is taken for granted where faith and trust bind to Jesus. The force of ἀκούσουσιν is not merely futuristic: “shall hear,” but volitive: “will hear.” It is not that Jesus and his voice bring about the hearing, but that these sheep, always listening for his voice, are willing to hear so that they may follow.

Jesus says, “them I must lead” (δεῖ). Why “must” he? Because this is his office as the Good Shepherd. His redemptive mission will then be accomplished and at an end, but he will remain the Good Shepherd. His very death and resurrection a brief six months hence will usher him into his world-wide shepherd work during all the coming years. Brought from the dead, he will still be “the shepherd of the sheep” in connection with (ἐν) the blood of the eternal covenant, Heb. 13:20.

Years after his glorification Peter calls him “the Shepherd and Bishop of your souls,” 1 Pet. 2:25.

Thus Jesus adds, “and there shall be one flock, one shepherd.” Eph. 4:4–6: One church, one Lord. Whether we read the singular γενήσεται, “there shall be” (impersonal), or the plural γενήσονται, “they shall be,” makes but little difference, although the singular seems better. All racial, national, social, educational, and other differences are abolished. The R. V. translates “shall become,” in distinction from the A. V.’s “shall be.” The former may refer to a process that will not be completed until the consummation.

All believers in Christ have ever been “one flock” under “one shepherd.” Not in the sense of the Roman Catholic Church, one outward, visible organization but in the far deeper and truer sense of one communion of saints, all being brethren by faith under one Master, one spiritual body, the Una Sancta. This is the essential unity of the church. All who have faith, all who are justified and pardoned, are in this unity; all others are outside of it. “There shall be” is definite and decisive, with no degrees and nothing halfway. For this oneness Jesus never prays. It exists and needs no prayers, and it exists as perfect, with no rent or breach. In his high-priestly prayer (17:17, etc.) Jesus prays for a different oneness, namely that all his believers, who are one by faith in him, may also be one in the Word of truth (1 Cor. 1:10), holding the divine truth with one mind, one in doctrine, free from all error.

For every error means danger to the spiritual bond that joins to Christ and joins us to each other. Only by guarding his Word are we his disciples indeed, 8:31, 32.

A dangerous misconception in regard to “the other sheep” makes these “the God-seekers” in the pagan world, who, when Jesus comes to them, “shall hear his voice” and join his flock, while the rest turn a deaf ear. Entrance into the one flock is not thus decided in advance in pagan hearts. Some that we might call “God-seekers” spurn the gospel, and some that we may think utterly depraved in superstition and vice yield to the gospel. None are shut out in advance. As none are shut out in advance by a divine absolute decree, predestinating them to hell, so none are shut out in advance by their own sinful and depraved state. The gospel is full of the gratia sufficiens, not merely for a certain fortunate class but for all men alike.

This grace is not dependent upon a certain amount of aid in man, so that without that aid it fails; its efficacy and power to save lie in itself alone. Rom. 1:16.

John 10:17

17 The act which both makes and reveals Jesus as the Good Shepherd has already been impressed upon us by two statements: he lays down his life for the sheep. Due to this act he has the sheep whom he knows and who know him (v. 14), also the other sheep who together with the first shall constitute one grand flock under him as the Supreme Shepherd. This great act of self-sacrifice is so important that he elucidates it most fully. For this reason the Father loves me that I lay down my life in order to take it up again. It is true, the various forms of οὗτος (here διὰτοῦτο) often refer back to what has just been said. Here, however, this is not the case because ὅτι follows and as an apposition states what “this reason” is, R. 965.

The attempts to make “for this reason” refer back to v. 16 end up by after all making ὅτι refer to διὰτοῦτο. This connection lies in the very nature of the statement made about the Father’s love for Jesus. Whatever may be said of love in connection with the sheep gathered into one flock by Jesus is bound to involve the great sacrifice by which this gathering of the sheep is accomplished. The Father loves Jesus, not merely because of all these sheep, but because of the sacrifice by which he wins these sheep.

The Father, of course, loves Jesus as his Son irrespective of his mission in the world. Not of this love does Jesus here speak but of the love which Jesus wins by voluntarily assuming and faithfully executing the Father’s plan for bestowing, redemption on the lost world, a task to be accomplished only by the sacrifice of himself. Here the verb ἀγαπᾶν is fully in place, to love with complete understanding and with a purpose to match that understanding. The Father’s whole heart goes out to his Son as he lays his human life down in the sacrifice of death. The Father knows all that this means for Jesus, prizes his act as he alone can prize, and uses it for the glory of himself and of his Son.

The emphasis on ἐγώ should not be overlooked: “I, I myself” lay down my life, I of my own free will. In a moment this will be made still plainer. And the act of which Jesus speaks is not merely his death. Like other blood-sacrifices to die and to remain dead, would avail nothing, would, in fact, be less than nothing—at best a heroic effort that ends in abject failure. Jesus lays down his life for the very purpose of taking it up again. Both acts are his; the two are halves of one whole.

Only thus will he be the Good Shepherd his Father intends him to be; only thus will he be the one great Shepherd of the Father’s one great flock; only thus can and will the Father’s great plan be realized for the world. Therefore, neither grammatically nor merely in our thought dare we separate the laying down from the taking up. We must not translate, as S. Goebel points out: “The Father loves me because I lay down my life—(but I do it only) in order to take it up again.” This sacrifice is like none that ever occurred before, because it indeed effects what all others could not effect, what they could only foreshadow. This sacrifice actually atones, actually redeems, and, doing that, the life laid down is not forfeited but is to be taken up again as freely as it was laid down. The human body and life, once laid down as a ransom for us, are now enthroned in glory at the Father’s right hand.

John 10:18

18 Voluntary in the highest degree is the act of Jesus in laying down his life and, therefore, it merits the Father’s love in an equal degree. No one takes it from me, on the contrary, I myself lay it down of myself. We need not trouble about the reading with the aorist ἦρεν: “no one took it,” etc., R. V. margin, as this lacks both sufficient authority and harmony with the thought. “No one” has no reference to the Father but only to hostile powers. His enemies will, indeed, crucify Jesus, and it will seem as if they take his life from him; but this is not the fact. The very contrary is true: it is Jesus himself who of himself by a free volition of his own yields himself to their hands (18:4–11 and Matt. 26:52–54; 19:28–30 and Luke 23:46).

Jesus makes this so emphatic, first for his believers, that they may remember it when the time comes; secondly, for the Jews who are so anxious to kill him, that they, too, may remember when the time comes. Both are then to recall that by his voluntary death Jesus wins the supreme love of his Father.

But this emphatic statement calls for further elucidation. Did not Jesus say in 5:19 that the Son is able to do nothing “of himself,” ἀφʼ ἑαυτοῦ? How, then, can he now say that he lays down his life “of himself,” ἀπʼ ἐμαυτοῦ? Here is the answer: Power have I to lay it down, and power have I to take it up again. This commission I received from my Father. Both are true: first, that Jesus can do nothing of himself, i.e., without the Father or contrary to the Father; secondly, that he can of himself give his life, i.e., as a free and voluntary act carried out by him alone.

In the loving behest with which he sent his Son on his redemptive mission the Father himself gave him right, authority, and power to follow his own will. No one English word has the exact meaning of ἐξουσία here used in diverse connections; hence the difference in translation, which seeks to keep the same word for the two connections. “Power” fits well for taking up the life but not well for laying down the life; “right” or “authority” fit the dying but hardly the rising. What Jesus means is entirely plain: he is free to do both, lay down and take up his life again. Note that ἐξουσία is derived from ἔξεστι, which means “it is free”; and thus the noun shades from the idea of the right and authority to act to that of the power to act. While Jesus uses two parallel statements to express his thought, it would be a mistake for us to separate them in our minds by speaking of his liberty to do the one act and yet not the other. No such choice presents itself to his will as to lay down his life and not take it up again; but only to lay it down in order to take it up again (v. 17), or to do neither.

In these matters it is idle to raise hypothetical questions, and it is worse to raise them while splitting normal units by abstractions.

Jesus must go one step farther and state how he comes to use his ἐξουσία as he does, how he makes the choice, instead of keeping his life to lay it down in order to take it up again. This is due to the “commission” he has received and accepted from his Father. The ἐξουσία resides in Jesus himself as God’s Son—no one could compel him to lay down his life. The Father, of course, would be the last to think of such compulsion. If Jesus, then, lays down his life in order to take it up again, i.e., to go through the bitterness of death in our stead, it is, and in the very nature of the case can be, only by his own free volition. But something induces him to use his free volition in this way.

We might say that it is his love for us, his desire to save the world. His motive is far higher. It is one which is so high that it includes anything he might say regarding his love for us. He decides as he does because he desires to please his Father. He and his Father are one in their will to save the world. Thus the Father gave him this ἐντολή to lay down his life and to take it up again in order to redeem us, and Jesus accepted it from his Father.

By pointing to his taking this commission from his Father, Jesus reveals to us his deepest or, let us say, his highest, motive.

The translation “command” may mislead. Commands are peremptory, issued by a superior to a subordinate. Commands are compulsory and shut out free volition. No command of that kind prompts the act of Jesus. Such a command would rob his act of the very thing that makes it so pleasing to his Father (Eph. 5:2). Nor is this ἐντολή a moral obligation and a “command” in this sense, something that Jesus ought to do, as we ought to obey the Decalog and, failing which, he would in some way be morally remiss.

Jesus is under no moral pressure whatever, either in the matter of passing through death for us, or in the first place accepting his Father’s commission. He was just as free to decline as to accept. This ἐντολή is a commission which the Father requests the Son to assume and which he freely assumes because he and his Father are one in their desire to save the world. When offering this commission to his Son the Father appeals to love; by accepting that commission the Son responds with his love. Both the offer and the acceptance lie on the highest possible plane. And now we know how Jesus became our Good Shepherd by giving his live for us, and what it is that makes him such a shepherd.

We have looked into both his heart and into that of his Father.

John 10:19

19 These wondrous words had their effect. A division again arose among the Jews because of these words, just as happened temporarily in 9:16, and more decisively already in 7:40–44.

John 10:20

20 And many of them were saying, He has a demon and raves. Why do you listen to him? Compare 7:20 and 8:48. These are the majority and find no reply except to revile. That is the easiest answer, even if it is quite irrational to attribute such words of Jesus to a demon using his tongue for mad raving. The real intention of this majority comes out in their question. They evidently see that Jesus is making an impression on some of his hearers. This provokes them. They seek to turn everybody against him.

John 10:21

21 But their effort only provokes a telling reply from the minority. Others were saying, These are not the utterings of one demon-possessed. No; not the least resemblance could anyone note—only the absolutely opposite. First, an assertion like that of the majority; then, a question again like them. Can a demon open eyes of blind people? He certainly cannot! He could and would do only the opposite. The plural “eyes of blind people” generalizes from the one notable case, 9:6, etc. The minority is impressed by both Jesus’ word and his act. And thus this visit of Jesus to Jerusalem (7:10, etc.) closes. The two imperfects ἔλεγον leave the situation hanging in the air; John lets it hang thus without adding a final aorist of any kind.

X. Jesus’ Attestation as the Messiah at the Feast of Dedication, 22–42

John 10:22

22 And it was the Feast of the Dedication in Jerusalem. It was winter. This festival, called Chanukah, was instituted by Judas Maccabaeus in 167 B. C. in commemoration of the cleansing and rededication of the Temple after its profanation by Antiochus Epiphanes. The annual celebration lasted eight days beginning the 25th of Chisleu (about the middle of December) and was observed throughout the country, a special feature consisting in illuminating the houses, from which fact the festival was called τὰφῶτα, “the Lights.” When John adds to the mention of the festival the phrase “in Jerusalem” to designate the place, this would be superfluous if Jesus had spent the intervening two months (7:2, end of October to the end of December) in the city. He left shortly after the October celebration and had now returned.

This is substantiated by what is now reported. The new situation and the new testimony Jesus utters connect directly with the last that he spoke before leaving the city (10:1, etc., in regard to his sheep). Where he broke off two months ago there he now begins. The situation, highly strained during that last visit (chapters 7–10:21), now reaches its climax (10:39), and Jesus leaves the city for good, not to return until the Passover in the spring, when he will enter upon his passion and his death. Quite in the same way the miracle recorded in 5:2, etc., for which the Jews resolved to kill Jesus (5:18), is taken up again after the lapse of an entire year on the return of Jesus to the city (7:10) in his very first clash with the Jews (7:19 and 23).

We cannot assume that Jesus spent the two months in the city, either hid away from the Jews, or teaching in public. If he had appeared in public, the situation would have moved on of its own momentum, and 10:26, etc., could not connect, as it does, with 10:1–18. Where Jesus spent the two months after leaving the city John does not tell us. All that we have is recorded in 10:40: “he went away again,” ἀπῆλθεπάλιν where the adverb intimates that he returned to the place beyond the Jordan, i.e., that this was the locality to which he had retired.

The remark that it was winter is, of course, not intended to inform us about the season of the year but to explain the next statement that Jesus was walking in a sheltered place in the Temple.

John 10:23

23 And Jesus was walking in the Temple in the porch of Solomon, the covered colonnade that offered some protection from the weather on that wintry day. Josephus, Ant. 20, 9, 7, informs us that this portico was the only part of the old Temple of Solomon left standing after the destruction wrought by Nebuchadnezzar, and was thus named “the porch of Solomon.” Here Jesus “was walking” to and fro for greater comfort in the cold. John again says nothing about the disciples, and the opinion is offered that Jesus is alone at the moment. This would make the ensuing encounter still more dramatic; but it is better to assume that the disciples are walking with Jesus as usual, and that John omits mention of them because they play no part in what transpires.

John 10:24

24 The Jews, therefore, surrounded him and were saying, How long dost thou hold us in suspense? If thou art the Christ, tell us openly! The connective οὗν indicates that the Jews see their opportunity and embrace it. Here Jesus suddenly again appears in their midst; he is alone except for his disciples; now they can have it out with him. By a concerted action they surround and enclose him, meaning that he shall not again get away. No friendly multitude is at hand to support him and to stay their hand. Jesus is suddenly face to face with his bitter enemies, who are now bound to force the issue. The moment is charged with the gravest potentialities.

The passion of the Jews flares out in their accusing question coupled with the decisive command. The two together act like a challenge. The Greek of the question is idiomatic: ἕωςπότε, “till when” = how long; τὴνψυχὴνἡμῶναἴρεις, “art thou lifting our soul,” lifting or raising it in suspense. But ψυχή is not our English word “soul” but a designation for the person: “our soul” = “us” (C.-K. 1141) as animate beings subject to tension. The question charges Jesus with keeping the Jews on tenterhooks by not coming out fairly and squarely on the main question. What that question is their demand states, “If thou art the Christ,” etc. “Tell us plainly” (“with openness”) means: then we shall know how to act.

The implication is by no means that these Jews would believe if Jesus would say in so many words, “I am the Christ.” Nor is the idea this that the Jews would use such a plain statement as a political charge on which to bring Jesus to trial. Still less may we assume that the Jews are seeking to ease their own consciences in regard to their treatment of Jesus by casting the blame on him for not speaking out plainly. They are long past such scruples. The suspense to which these Jews object is that of thrusting the fact of his Messiahship into their consciences in such a way as to cause divisions in their own ranks (9:16; 10:19) yet without giving them the chance they are determined to have to bring him to book for his claim. They mean that this is now to end; they are determined to end it right here and now. “Art thou or art thou not the Christ?” If he says, “I am,” the stones will fly.

John 10:25

25 The first two words of Jesus: εἶπονὑμῖν, I did tell you, is a perfect master stroke. Here they are demanding a thing with such a show of suspense—and it has been told them long ago! Where had they their ears? Here they are now trying to force an issue—why, they should have forced it long ago when Jesus first told them! Why all this show and demonstration now?—they know well enough, and Jesus lets them know that he knows. More than this: Jesus right here and now is again telling them with his first two words just exactly what they ask.

So far is he from evading the dangerous issue thrust upon him that he meets it squarely and directly in his very first utterance. This quick, unexpected directness takes the Jews quite off their guard. The question is asked when Jesus had told the Jews that he is the Christ. The answer is to be found in every one of his discourses. We single out 5:17, etc., where the Jews first resolve to kill him for “making himself equal with God.”

The trouble lies not, even in the least, with Jesus but with these Jews: and you do not believe. After all his telling, including the present word, they do not believe (durative present). All his telling is in vain—in vain through fault of theirs; is so even now.

In order, once and for all, to settle the question of his telling them properly Jesus points to that most convincing form of his telling, which is not merely by words but by deeds which substantiate his words in the highest degree: The works which I am doing in my Father’s name, these are testifying concerning me. Words alone, mere verbal statements ever so plain and direct, however valuable and necessary they may be, could not suffice. A fraudulent Christ might say with his mouth, “I am the Christ.” We know that false Christs did arise and so declare; but their works proved them liars. The works of Jesus substantiate every word of his concerning his person and his office as the Christ of God. These works Jesus is still engaged in doing, ποιῷ, their number and the force of their testimony is increasing. They not only tell, they “testify” concerning Jesus and do this right along (present tense).

Like witnesses who have seen and heard personally, these works emanating from Jesus himself speak intimately and truly of him who wrought them. And this testimony we must have. If these witnesses were silent, or if they gave a different testimony from the one they so clearly and unanimously utter, then, indeed, we might be in doubt. But now doubt is folly.

Jesus says far more than that he is just doing these works; he is doing them “in my Father’s name.” This reference to his Father again tells these Jews that Jesus is the Christ. Once more he asserts his mission from the Father, the mission which makes him the Christ. The ὄνομα is not the authority, so that we should understand, “by my Father’s authority”; nor representation, “as my Father’s representative.” It denotes revelation, “in connection with my Father’s revelation,” i.e., the ὄνομα or revelation given by God to Israel, by which they should know the Father and be able to recognize any works that emanate from him. God’s revelation displays his omnipotence, grace, and mercy, these especially. And in every one of Jesus’ miracles these divine attributes shine out with utmost clearness. By aiding the body they seek to lift the soul, too, to life eternal.

Compare the two notable works which Jesus set before the eyes of these Jews, 5:2, etc., 9:6, etc. The cry of these works was even now ringing in the ears of these Jews.

John 10:26

26 How are they treating this double testimony? But you—you do not believe because you are not my sheep. Mark the strong adversative and the emphatic pronoun, also the repetition, “you do not believe,” which places the blame entirely on them. True and sufficient testimony ought to be believed; not to believe it is both unreason and guilt. He who refuses to believe such testimony convicts himself. “Because (ὅτι) you do not believe” states the intellectual reason which explains the Jewish unbelief, not the effective cause which produces this unbelief. It brings the plain evidence, it does not indicate the secret source.

The sense is, “Since you are not my sheep you do not believe”; and not, “Since you are not my sheep you cannot believe.” The preposition ἐκ is partitive. The reference to “my sheep” connects directly with the discourse spoken two months ago in v. 1–18.

John 10:27

27 Jesus even repeats the particular characteristic of his sheep which here comes into play and which the Jews utterly lack. My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. Always they hear, always he knows, always they follow. Trustful hearing is meant; they know not the voice of strangers (see v. 5). Jesus says “my voice” and not “my word.” The “word” signifies the contents, the “voice,” the tone, sound, personal peculiarity. Both are inseparably bound together.

In the shepherd’s word, wherever and whenever it is spoken, the sheep hear the shepherd’s voice, and it is inexpressibly sweet and attractive to them. “This lovely, delightful picture you may, if you wish, see for yourself among sheep. When a stranger calls, whistles, coaxes: Come, sheep! come, sheep! it runs and flees, and the more you call, the more it runs, as if a wolf were after it, for it knows not the strange voice; but where the shepherd makes himself heard a little, they all run to him, for they know his voice. This is how all true Christians should do, hear no voice but their shepherd’s, Christ, as he himself says.” Luther.

To those who are not his sheep Jesus speaks of his sheep. This is the gospel call to become his sheep. It is combined with a hint as to what those must be who will not be such sheep. Thus, too, Jesus once more tells these Jews, not only what they asked, who he really is, but also what they had failed to ask, who they are, and what they ought to become if they desired salvation, and what will become of them if they remain what they are.

The first four tenses are gnomic presents and thus timeless. What they relate is true irrespective of time. Note how these four statements intertwine: they hear—I know—they follow—I give. In four short master strokes the relation between the shepherd and his sheep is pictured. Something vital would be left out if one of these four were omitted. Note that all four are simultaneous, not successive; and that while they are twined together, we still have two pairs: to hear and to follow, likewise to know and to give.

The emphasis that is strongly brought out in the two κἀγώ: “I myself know … I myself give,” runs through the entire description: “My sheep hear my voice; I know them; they follow me; I give to them, etc., and no one shall pluck them out of my hand.” On the statement, “I know them,” compare the comments on v. 14, in particular also on the verb γινώσκω. “I know them” simply asserts the great fact and stops with that. This is the point these Jews are to note when Jesus is compelled to tell them they are not his sheep. He knows all who are his sheep. The fact that his sheep know him in turn, while it is true enough, is not pertinent here.

Hearing the shepherd’s voice is an inward act, following the shepherd is both inward and outward. This time the verb is plural, as in v. 14 (R. 403, etc.). “They follow me.” I call, they come; I choose the path, they trust and come after; I lead, they are safe in my care; I command in love, they respond in obedience and love. If this at times means the cross, they do not waver. One cannot hear without following, nor follow except he hear. It is all so simple and natural—just as in the case of sheep and their shepherd.

John 10:28

28 As the two actions of the sheep correspond, so the two actions of the shepherd, each with its emphatic ἐγώ: and I give them life eternal, the life already described in 3:15 (which see). This is the very principle of life which flows from God, is grounded in God, joins to God, and leads to God. Born in regeneration, it pulses in every believer, becomes stronger as faith increases, and reaches its full flower in the glory of heaven. Temporal death merely transfers this life from earth to heaven. Itself invisible, this life manifests itself in a thousand ways and thus attests its presence and its power. When the day of glory comes, its manifestations shall be glorious altogether.

No earthly shepherd is able to give life to his sheep; Jesus “gives” life eternal to his sheep. By way of gift alone this life is ours—free grace alone bestows it, and by free grace “without any merit or worthiness on our part” it is our possession. This verb δίδωμι reveals all the richness, greatness, and attractiveness of our Good Shepherd. The incomparable Giver stood there before the Jews and was actually offering them his divine gift of grace. But they would have none of his greatness and riches.

The four present tenses are now followed by two futures, both negative, but with their opposite positives shining through. And they shall in no wise perish forever, and no one shall snatch them out of my hand. This is a double and a direct promise; the doubling increases the emphasis. “To perish” is to be separated from God, life, and blessedness forever. John and Paul use especially the middle voice of this verb in this sense, C.-K. 788. It is the opposite of being saved. Here we have the second aorist middle subjunctive ἀπόλωνται, with οὑμή as the strongest negation of a future act, and the aorist because the act necessarily would be only one and as such final. “Shall in no way perish” would itself be enough, the modifier “forever” is added pleonastically: this dreadful act shall never occur.

This promise does not refer only to the time after the believer’s death, implying that then he shall be forever safe; this promise holds good from the moment of faith onward. The verb “to perish” never means “to suffer annihilation,” or to cease to exist.

The first part of the promise is stated from the viewpoint of the sheep: they shall never perish. The second part is from the viewpoint of Jesus and of any hostile being that might attack his sheep: no one shall snatch them out of his hand. This promise, now stated with the future indicative, is intensified in a moment: “no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand.” First the fact then the possibility is denied. The two promises, one referring to Jesus, the other to the Father, indicate the equality of the two persons (5:18). The blessedness of the sheep is not only great and sweet, it is also sure and certain, not like that of the world, which is bright today then gone forever. The phrasing οὑχἁρπάρσειτις recalls what is said of the wolf in v. 12.

The “hand” of Jesus is his power. His gracious power is all-sufficient to protect every believer forever. Even at this moment Jesus and his disciples are surrounded by the Jews who are bent on violence, but the hand of Jesus is mightier than they. However weak the sheep are, under Jesus they are perfectly safe. Yet a believer may after all be lost (15:6). Our certainty of eternal salvation is not absolute.

While no foe of ours is able to snatch us from our Shepherd’s hand, we ourselves may turn from him and may perish willfully of our own accord.

John 10:29

29 What lies in and back of these words of Jesus (v. 27, 28) regarding the entire relation between him and his sheep and their complete safety in his hand, is now stated most clearly and fully. In his entire reply to the Jews, from v. 25 onward, Jesus proceeds, not as the Jews demand, by simply declaring, “I am the Christ,” but as he has proceeded all along, by doing such works and offering such testimony that those who see and hear must be stirred in their own hearts to confess of their own accord, “Thou art the Christ.” If this method of procedure has put the enemies of Jesus in suspense, that suspense is now driven to the limit; for instead of changing to the method they propose for their murderous end, Jesus for his own purpose of grace carries his own method to the climax. Back of all that he does for the sheep is his Father. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. The Greek does not need to name the objects “them,” which the Greek reader automatically supplies from the context. Therefore the absence of the two “them” is no warrant for converting the statements into abstract assertions by supplying “aught”: “who has given aught to me,” and “to snatch aught,” etc. (R. V. margin).

The variant readings turn on two points, whether we should read ὅ for ὅς, and μεῖζον for μείζων: “That which my Father has given to me is greater than everything (now also neuter); and no one is able to snatch it,” etc., (R. V. margin). This and any similar reading has little textual support, which fact already settles the case. In addition, it introduces a thought that is wholly untenable. For this reading which draws ὁπατήρμου, placed in front of the relative clause, into that clause, throws a peculiar emphasis on “my Father”: “What my Father has given me,” etc., and thus injects the implication into the clause that besides what his Father has given him Jesus has something that is not so acquired. This is not true; all that Jesus has comes from his Father.

In addition, this reading produces the strange thought that the sheep are greater than everything else and on this account are held firmly by the Father’s hand. In what respect are they “greater?” one is moved to ask. In v. 28 it is the power and the greatness of Jesus that protect the sheep; and so again in v. 29 it is the greatness and the power of the Father, exceeding that of any possible foe, that safeguard the sheep.

The Father, who sent the Son, works through the Son, whom he sent. It is thus that he has given the sheep to Jesus: “which thou gavest me out of the world; thine they were, and thou gavest them to me,” 17:6; compare 6:37. This shuts out the notion that the Father merely employs Jesus to take care of the sheep. Likewise, it shuts out the thought that the old keeper of Israel (Ps. 121:4, 5), who neither slumbers nor sleeps, has gone to rest, and that Jesus is now his successor in office. When Jesus says “my Father” he denominates himself as “the Son,” and it is thus that these two are equally concerned about the sheep: the Father through the mission bestowed on the Son, the Son in the mission received from the Father. “Has given,” the perfect δέδωκε, has its usual force: a past act when the Son entered on his mission and its abiding effect as long as that mission endures. This Father is “greater than all,” μείζωνπάντων, and “all” must be masculine and denote persons, for it includes the masculine τίς in v. 28 and οὑδείς in the present verse. While “greater” is broad, here it must refer especially to power: the Father exceeds in power every being arrayed against the sheep (Satan, demon spirits, human foes however mighty).

After thus declaring the Father’s might, it might seem superfluous for Jesus to add, “and no one can snatch them out of the Father’s hand,” for this is certainly self-evident. The reason for the addition lies far deeper. Jesus deliberately parallels what he says of himself, “no one shall snatch them out of my hand,” with what he says of his Father, “no one can snatch them out of the Father’s hand.” The fact that he mentions the detail (“shall snatch”) with reference to himself is due to his being on his saving mission; that he mentions the possibility (“can snatch”) with reference to the Father is due to the Father’s institution of that mission. Both thus belong together: Father and Son, fact and possibility. Does the promise of Jesus, standing there in human form before the Jews, sound preposterous, that no one shall snatch his sheep out of his hand? To snatch them out of his hand is the same as snatching them out of the Father’s hand. Remember the relation of these two hands, as this relation centers in the sheep.

John 10:30

30 What is thus prepared is now pronounced in so many words: I and the Father, we are one. The equal power to protect the sheep is due to the equality of these two persons. This makes the mighty acts of equal protection perfectly plain. “We are one,” therefore, cannot be reduced to mean only one in purpose, will, and work. This, however true it may be in itself, does not suffice; for the reference is to power, namely almighty power, against which no other being, however great his power may be, is able to rise. To deny that equality of power is here expressed is to deny just what is asserted. This denial resorts to the faulty reading μεῖζον instead of μείζων, and places the power in the sheep instead of in the Father.

Another way to reduce what Jesus says is to point to ἕν and to assert that, if identity is meant by “we are one,” we should have εἷς, a masculine instead of a neuter. Augustine has answered that: ἕν frees us from the Charybdis of Arianism, ἐσμέν from the Scylla of Sabellianism. If we had εἷς, this would mean that the two are one and the same person, producing patripassionism and other extravagant fancies. Jesus says, “we are ἕν,” “one thing, one being, one God, one Lord,” Luther. The two persons are not mingled, for Jesus clearly distinguishes between ἐγώ and ὁπατήρ; but these two, while they are two in person, are ἕν, one, a unit substance, or, as we prefer, a unit in essence.

It is fruitless to bring in analogies for ἕν in order to reduce this oneness to something with which our minds are conversant, which they are able to grasp intellectually. Thus Paul says of himself and of Apollos, “He that planteth and he that watereth are one,” 1 Cor. 3:8. Here, however, not persons as persons but their activities, planting and watering, make them one. It is certainly unconvincing to point to 1 Cor. 12:12: one body composed of many members; and it is an actual descent into filth to think of 1 Cor. 6:16. When Jesus prays that all who will come to believe through the Word of the apostles (17:20) may be one, this is so manifestly the increasing oneness of conviction and confession regarding the one truth of the Word that it seems strange to adduce it in this connection. Eph. 2:14 and 4:4, as well as Gal. 3:28 speak of the spiritual oneness of the Una Sancta or Communion of Saints, in which any number may be joined.

Acts 4:32 is merely the accord of thought and will. Efforts will constantly be repeated to follow some such analogy in thinking of the oneness of the Father and the Son. But all these human and earthly analogies are really not true analogies. Among them all no oneness exists which can be placed beside this expression of Jesus, “We are one.” Nor is this strange, for each of the different lower types of oneness is peculiar and unique in itself according to the subjects which it embraces. The resemblances are only formal. Once this is perceived, we shall drop the effort to classify the oneness of Jesus and the Father with some other oneness of which we know.

As high and as absolutely singular as are the Father and the Son, so high, so absolutely singular and unlike any other oneness is that of him who is the one eternal Father with him who is the one eternal Son. Only he who has sounded the depths of the godhead of this Father and this Son could grasp what their oneness actually is. The ancient church defined the ἕν of Jesus by the great term ὁμοουσία, which retains the supreme credit of rising above all earthly categories to the actual numerical ἕν of the οὑσία (being or essence) eternal in the Son as in the Father. No truer, higher, or more adequate term has ever been furnished by the mind of the church. Unsatisfactory by comparison is the idea of a oneness of several joined merely in action or suffering (Zahn). Paul wrote Col. 2:8, 9: “Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after Christ.

For in him dwelleth all the fulness of the godhead bodily.” Before the divine oneness of these infinite persons we bow down in childlike adoration and worship. As regards 14:28, this passage refers only to the human nature of Jesus.

John 10:31

31 The Jews again took up stones in order to stone him. They picked them up where the building operations of reconstructing parts of the Temple were going on and brought them to the Porch of Solomon as they had done once before (8:59). This their action is their answer. The aorist records only the fact.

John 10:32

32 As Jesus met their challenge (v. 25, etc.) unflinchingly, so he now stands his ground as the stones arrive. Jesus answered them, namely this action of theirs, Many excellent works did I show you from the Father. On account of which of those works are you trying to stone me? The pertinency of the assertion and the question of Jesus is lost when the emphasis is placed only on the object “many excellent works” and not equally on the modifier “from the Father.” The point is not merely that these many works are καλά, “excellent,” praeclara, and that Jesus showed these works to the Jews, so that they could not but see this excellence; but that by their very excellence these excellent works show that they are and must be “from the Father.” In other words, these works reveal in an actual, visible manner, that Jesus and the Father are one, just as he has said. This oneness of himself with the Father is manifested not only in the one work by which Jesus and the Father equally keep the sheep in their hand against any possible foe, it is manifested in every work of Jesus; for every one of these works wrought in his great mission, while it is done by him as the Son coming from the Father, is done equally by the Father through the Son. This is the point which makes the preamble so vital for the question. John has recorded two of these excellent works at length (5:1–9; 9:1–7), to the rest he refers in 2:23 and relies on the records of the other evangelists.

With ποῖον Jesus asks the Jews to point out a quality (R. 740) in any one of these many works which shows that it is not “of the Father,” does not originate (ἐκ) from him and reveal this its origin to them. What Jesus asks is this, “Does any work that I have shown you contradict my assertion that I and the Father are one,” so that this assertion of mine must be ranked as blasphemy deserving the penalty of stoning? The question is directly to the point. Those who think that Jesus is shifting the issue from his words (which sound like blasphemy to the Jews) to his works (which the Jews must acknowledge as “excellent”), miss the very point that is emphasized in “from my Father.” The present tense λιθάζετε is inchoative, “begin or try to stone me,” R. 880. The question of Jesus contains no irony, which would only the more enrage the passion of the Jews. It calmly asks them to stop and to think, to make sure of their ground, and lays the finger on the one decisive point.

Jesus never asks anyone simply to assent to the abstract metaphysical proposition that he and the Father are one in essence. That would be a serious mistake and would call out equally abstract denials. What he does is to show us the quality of his words and of his works; these are the true mirror of his person. He who looks into this mirror will confess with John, “We beheld his glory, glory as of the Only-begotten from the Father.”

John 10:33

33 The Jews do pause and feel that they must justify themselves. The Jews answered him, Not for an excellent work are we trying to stone thee but for blasphemy, namely that thou, being a man, makest thyself God. Since this is nothing but defense and self-justification, we are not to think that the Jews here admit that all the works of Jesus are “excellent,” or that they have forgotten their deduction that, because he did some of these works on the Sabbath, he could not be of God. All they say is that they are not considering any work of Jesus, whether it is excellent or not, when now proceeding to stone him (λιθάζομεν, again inchoative present) but his blasphemous utterance—that being more than enough and coming squarely under the law set down in Lev. 24:15, 16. Bent only on justifying their action, these Jews separate the words and the works of Jesus, whereas Jesus demands that they be combined. Never having seen the Father (whom they did not even know, 8:19) in any of the works of Jesus, nor heard the Father’s voice (which was wholly foreign to them, 5:37, 38) in any of the words of Jesus, they now again are wholly deaf to the decisive phrase: many excellent works “from the Father,” and judge both Jesus’ works and words without true reference to the Father, who is so foreign to them.

This, however, the sharp ears of these Jews at once caught, that by saying, “I and the Father, we are one,” Jesus was making himself God. They caught this because it was exactly what they wanted, a word on which to base the charge of blasphemy and thus full justification for the summary inflection of the death penalty. The fact that this penalty should be decreed only by a legal court after a fair and honest trial counts for nothing in their passionate hatred once for all to be rid of Jesus. They intend to dispense with legal formalities and to lynch this flagrant blasphemer on the spot. This Jewish charge of blasphemy must stand against Jesus to this day if he, being nothing but a man, either by implication or by some direct statement (here or elsewhere) made himself God. He could be exonerated in only one of two ways: first, by proving that he never said what all sacred records state that he did say—that these records are spurious; secondly, by proving that what these records state is not what the recorded words mean.

Both methods are hopeless as far as fact and any legitimate proof of fact is concerned. If, nevertheless, we choose the first, we end by having no historical knowledge of Jesus—with the records we completely wipe out “the historical Jesus” and retain nothing but myth and legend. If we choose the second method, then no recorded word of Jesus can mean what it says—we ourselves make these words mean what we think they should mean, and again a “historical Jesus” becomes vapor.

John 10:34

34 Only in one way can the charge that Jesus, being nothing but a man, makes himself God be refuted: he must prove that he calls himself God because he is actually God. This is exactly what Jesus does. By taking up stones against an alleged blasphemer the Jews appeal to their νόμος, “the law.” By use of this very law Jesus begins his refutation (v. 34–36) and then completes it by the appeal to his works (v. 37, 38). In this refutation Jesus not only repeats the assertion, “I am God’s Son,” but defines with simple clarity how he as the Son is one with the Father. Jesus answered them, Has it not been written in your law, I myself said, Gods are you? If he called them Gods, to whom the Word of God came—and the Scripture cannot be broken—do you say of him, whom the Father sanctified and sent into the world, Thou blasphemest! because I said, Son of God am I?

The force of the circumscribed perfect is: “it is on record” in Holy Writ. The term νόμος need not here be restricted to “law” in the sense of norm according to which one forms his judgments. While “law” often designates the Pentateuch, it is likewise used as a brief title (Torah) for the entire Old Testament. This is the case here where Jesus quotes Ps. 82:6. On the possessive “your” law see 8:17.

The refutation is accomplished by means of a syllogism. Major premise: The Scriptures cannot be broken; minor premise: The Scripture calls men commissioned by God “Gods”; ergo: Jesus, sanctified and sent into the world by God, is rightly called “God” in a correspondingly higher sense. This syllogism operates a minori ad majus, and is the more convincing because of this very form. It is hasty to call this refutation an argumentum ad hominem. This would be the case if by “your law” Jesus referred to a law which he for his person does not accept; but he accepts this law as fully as do the Jews. His major premise is the fact that this law cannot be broken, i.e., set aside in any way or by any person.

Nor is this an argumentum ad hominem by claiming for Jesus as a mere man the title “God” in the way in which the human judges in the Psalm have the title Elohim or “Gods.” The contrast between these judges and Jesus is entirely too strong for this: they, to whom only the Word of God came; he, the one and only one, whom the Father sanctified and sent into the world. This mighty contrast a minori ad majus destroys any argumentum ad hominem. The supposition that Jesus states the ergo in the form a majori ad minus is untenable. While he might say, “I am God,” he says only, “I am God’s Son.” In the passage from the Psalm the title “Gods” is synonymous with “children (literally: sons) of the Most High.” The fact is that Jesus never calls himself simply “God,” ὁΘεός or Θεός, but always far more precisely, “the Son of God,” as in all the instances where he speaks of “my Father” (never using the plural “our”). So in the present case “Son of God” denotes the Second Person of the Godhead as compared with the First.

The Psalm deals with judges and rulers of Israel, scoring them for judging unjustly. God tells them that although he himself called them Gods and children (sons) of the Most High, yet because of their wickedness they shall die like common men. Jesus quotes only these words from the Psalm: “I (Yahweh) said, You are Gods.” He at once explains in what sense Jahweh called these judges Elohim.

John 10:35

35 It is because “the Word of God came to them,” but not in the sense that God granted them certain revelations to communicate to Israel, or gave them his laws to administer in Israel. The Word of God that came to them is the one that appointed them as judges and placed them in their high and holy office. They were judges in a theocracy, in which Yahweh himself was the supreme ruler and judge. Though they received their office through human mediation, they actually held it by divine appointment as God’s own representatives among his people. In this sense, Jesus says, Yahweh himself called these judges Elohim; they were appointed by Yahweh’s own word. In this respect they resembled the kings and the prophets of Israel. On the latter compare Jer. 1:2 and Ezek. 1:3; to them the appointive word came immediately, just as this afterward was the case with the Baptist, Luke 3:1.

Before Jesus brings in the conclusion he adds parenthetically, “and the Scripture cannot be broken,” i.e., in any point or any statement which it contains. While it is only a parenthesis and is like a side remark, this is really the axiomatic major premise of the entire syllogism. Without it the conclusion could not possibly stand. Note that Jesus does not say οὑκἔξεστιλύειντὴνγραφήν, “it is not lawful (not allowed) to break the Scripture.” This would be only a subjective Jewish valuation of the Scripture. Any deduction resting only on this premise would be nothing but an argumentum ad hominem, binding only the Jews not necessarily Jesus or us, who might hold a view of the Scripture differing from that of the Jews. The axiom in this parenthesis is objective and absolute: οὑδύναταιλυθῆναιἡγραφή, “the Scripture cannot possibly be broken,” no word of it be dissolved; compare 7:23; Matt. 5:19.

Every statement of the Scripture stands immutably, indestructible in its verity, unaffected by denial, human ignorance or criticism, charges of errancy or other subjective attack. Thus in the present case no power or ingenuity of man can alter Ps. 82:6, and the fact that Yahweh called his human judges Elohim.

John 10:36

36 On the premises thus laid down Jesus rests the incontrovertible conclusion. But in doing so he lifts himself far above the human judges and the reason why they were called gods. Over against the relative clause which declares why Yahweh could and did call these judges gods, Jesus sets the relative clause which describes the supreme nature of his own office, “whom the Father sanctified and sent into the world.” In a broad way, like those judges of the Psalm, Jesus, too, has an office from God and can thus be classed with them. But the moment his office is compared with theirs, a tremendous difference appears. This centers both in the designation of the person who placed Jesus in his office and in the action by which this was done. It is “the Father” who sanctified and sent Jesus.

As “the Father” he did this, which means that the one sanctified and sent is the Son, and that for this office and work he could use none other than his own Son. Judges in Israel there could be many, but only One could be sanctified and sent into the world from heaven itself for the actual redemption and salvation of the world. To such judges (and any other men commissioned by God) he could send his appointive word at the proper time in the course of their lives; not so in the case of Jesus, his mission began in the counsel between the Father and the Son in heaven. His very person and the work he was to do necessitated this course, and this very course reveals who Jesus is and what name properly designates him.

Both aorists, “he sanctified and sent,” are historical. In the nature of the case both acts precede the coming of Jesus into the world. Because they take place between the Father and the Son in heaven, we are able to conceive of them only imperfectly. Whether the sanctifying and the sending are distinct, or whether they are simultaneous is hard to determine. If we may judge from the analogy in Jer. 1:5, the former is the case, and the act of sanctifying would consist in designating and setting apart the Son for the blessed mission. Yet, as taking place between the Father and the Son, this sanctifying would exceed that of any human prophet or apostle (Gal. 1:15), even as the Son stands infinitely above them.

As regards the sending itself a similarity exists (Isa. 6:8, 9; John 20:21, καθώς “even as”); yet of no man do we ever read that God “sent him into the world” on a mission. The verb ἀποστέλλω means to send away for a definite purpose or on a specific mission, and thus differs from the wider term πέμπω, also used regarding Jesus, which denotes only transmission, C.-K. 1018. The accusative after ἀποστέλλω only occasionally indicates what the person sent becomes by being sent; thus in Mark 1:2, “I send my messenger.” Quite generally the accusative states who the person is that is being sent, Matt. 21:1, “two disciples”; 21:34–37. This is especially clear when a second accusative indicates what the person sent is to be in his mission: “The Father sent the Son to be the Savior of the world,” 1 John 4:14. Thus the claim is answered that the Son became the Son and is called the Son only by virtue of the sending, i.e., is the Son only as having become man.

Again, this sending is not merely “to the world” and to be dated from the time when Jesus began his public work; but a sending “into the world,” to be dated prior to the Incarnation: “I came forth from the Father, and am come into the world; again, I leave the world, and go to the Father.” The fact that God’s Son is thus sent reveals the greatness and the value of his mission: Ratio sub qua Jesus Christus agnoscendus est; missio praesupponit Filium cum, Patre unum, Bengel on 17:3. Having come thus from heaven to earth on his great mission, Jesus rightly confronts the Jews with the question: “Do you say of him, whom the Father sanctified and sent into the world, Thou blasphemest! because I said, I am God’s Son”? When our excellent grammarian Robertson ventures into the field of exegesis with a reference to υἱός without the article and has Jesus claim that he is “a son of God” by way of an argumentum ad hominem (781), he contradicts himself when he admits that υἱὸςἀνθρώπου in John 5:27 may mean either “the Son of man” or “a son of man.” But the matter is not determined alone by the absence or the presence of the article. When Jesus calls himself, “the Son of man” some eighty times and then in one instance omits the article, this exception means only one thing—he now says, “a son of man.” And when Jesus places “Son of God” beside “Father,” and does that after a relative clause as plain as the one here used, by “Son” he means the Son beside whom no other such Son exists. See above on 5:27.

John 10:37

37 The Jews may well have been startled to learn that God himself called men appointed to office by him “gods.” If Jesus should claim no more than that he belonged to this class, their charge of blasphemy against him would already be refuted. It is overwhelmingly crushed by the evidence that the office of Jesus is one that is infinitely above all such judges or any other representatives of God who in the course of their lives receive their appointment only by some word of God. This evidence Jesus now once more lays before them in a manner so clear that any doubt or denial is utterly in vain. If I am not doing the works of my Father, do not believe me, i.e., do not give me credence in what I say of myself. In conditions of reality the negative is alway οὑ, R. 1011. Note the present ποιῶ, which is not timeless but durative: Jesus is still engaged in doing these works.

He has pointed to them in v. 25 and 32. In the latter passage he does it to shame the ingratitude of the Jews who seek to stone him; here he does it to show the wrong nature of their unbelief, making him a liar and a blasphemer. Jesus here refers to what he did in 5:31 and 36, and again in 8:13, etc. These Jews claim that the testimony of Jesus is unsupported and that, therefore, they are right in refusing him credence. They can do this only by completely shutting their eyes to the works of Jesus, which absolutely substantiate his verbal testimony concerning himself as God’s Son.

“The works of my Father” are the miracles of Jesus. Whether we make the genitive merely possessive: which belong to my Father; or subjective: which my Father does through me, these works show beyond question that he whose mission includes such works is the very Son of the Father who sanctified and sent him on his mission. Any other estimate of these works is inadequate and wrong and, therefore, untenable. We see this right along in the way in which these works worry the Jews. They are compelled to shut their eyes to these works (9:41); they try to pick some flaw in them (9:16; 5:18 and 7:23, 24); they never attempt a real fathoming of these works. The denial of the deity of Jesus has never progressed beyond this attitude of the Jews in regard to his works.

The imperative, “do not believe me,” i.e., what I say of myself, is not categorical but permissive. We must recall 4:48 with its complaint that men will not believe unless they see signs and wonders; likewise 8:14, where Jesus asserts that his word-testimony is true, irrespective of any further testimony. Thus Jesus does not forbid faith in his words alone, apart from his works. His words alone are enough for faith. In a large number of instances we do not require the legal two or three witnesses; one testimony is ample to convince us. Only where men refuse credence, the second and the third testimony, by corroborating the first, compel credence; so that, if it be still refused, the refusal is full of guilt.

It is thus that Jesus here appeals to his works: “If I am not doing—actually doing—my Father’s works, then you may claim that you are not bound to believe what T say to you about myself.”

John 10:38

38 On the other hand: But if I do them, and if you believe not me, believe the works—in order that you may come to realize and may go on realizing, that the Father is in me, and I am in the Father. By making both conditions conditions of reality: “if I actually do not—if I actually do” my Father’s works, Jesus puts the alternative squarely up to the Jews. They must choose either the nay or the yea—a third does not exist. To refuse to make the choice is to condemn themselves. That the choice must be yea, since the works are being done and cry out their testimony to all who see them, Jesus does not even need to intimate.

This time the imperative is categorical, “believe the works!” That this is the case we see from the preamble, “and if you believe not me,” namely my words about myself. This condition of expectancy points to the refusal of the Jews to believe Jesus’ words. At the same time it implies that the person and the words of Jesus are themselves enough to receive credence without the works; compare 6:63, etc., and 68, etc. Note the contrast between the two datives ἐμοί and τοῖςἔργοις, the faith-inspiring personality of Jesus as it reaches out to men’s hearts in his works. On “and if,” in preference to “even if,” see R.. 1026. The thought is that the more one may hesitate to believe Jesus’ words, the more he is bound to believe the works, which as actual works admit of no legitimate denial; compare 14:10, 11. The words one may connect only with Jesus, since they fall from his human lips; the works are so connected with both Jesus and the Father who sent him to do these works that he who will not believe the works sets himself in antagonism against the Father. “Believe the works!” means, “Fly not in the face of these!”

The battle of Jesus with the Jews most certainly turned on the truth and the trustworthiness of his statements, here especially the two that he and the Father are one (v. 30), and that he is the Father’s Son sent into the world (v. 36). The use of πιστεύειν with the dative by no means reduces the verb to mean only assent to what Jesus thus declares concerning himself. A study of C.-K. 902–905 on John’s use of this verb is highly profitable. To receive the testimony of Jesus concerning himself as trustworthy always involves on the part of him who so receives it a personal relation to Jesus in accord with that testimony accepted as trustworthy, i.e., a personal relation to him as God’s Son who is one with the Father. This C.-K. define, “to acknowledge Christ and therefore to cling to him.” The moment the Jews would admit Jesus to be what he said of himself, that moment their entire attitude toward him would accord with their admission. A glance at M.-M. 514 shows that in the pagan world πιστεύειν moved on a far lower plane, substantiating the abundant references in C.-K. to this effect.

This aids in understanding the purpose clause, which really modifies the entire previous statement. Jesus points to the works he is doing and calls on the Jews to believe at least these works, i.e., that they are indeed—as they can see for themselves—the works of the Father. The moment they thus believe these works as being most certainly connected with the Father, they will believe what Jesus testifies to them concerning his connection with the Father when he says that he and the Father are one and that he is the Son of God come into the world from the Father. The full profundity of this connection will not at once be clear to them. But this faith will effect the purpose of Jesus and of the Father who sent him: “in order that you may come to realize and may go on realizing that the Father is in me, and I am in the Father.” The verb γινώσκω, here used twice, (this being the assured reading) means far more than intellectual knowing. It denotes an inner spiritual realization due to the inner contact of faith with Jesus and the Father.

C.-K. 244 are right in stating that γινώσκω predicates an inner relation of the subject to the object, one involving the essentials of salvation. The aorist is ingressive: “may come to realize”; and the present is durative: “may go on realizing” with deeper, fuller personal insight.

The object that will thus be realized is “that the Father is in me, and I am in the Father.” The great fact and reality is meant, not the mode and manner of these persons being the one in the other. The latter will always be beyond our mortal grasp, the former will grow clearer and more self-evident as our relation with Jesus and the Father becomes more intimate. It should be plain that Jesus here defines what he says in v. 30, “I and the Father, we are one.” This means far more than that the man Jesus, who stood before the Jews, is in intimate communion with God, that God merely fills his heart and mind; or that as an instrument of God Jesus is in all his official work moved by God’s power and grace. This communion and cooperation of the Father with Jesus is something visible to faith from the very start, apparent in all the words as in all the works of Jesus. Even the beggar in 9:33 at once saw this. The realization of which Jesus speaks follows this basic perception of faith and is its result.

It is summarized in the statement, “Son of God am I.” The oneness we behold in Jesus and the Father is by no means merely “dynamic,” even though a metaphysical basis for it is acknowledged. Jesus is not merely “the effective organ,” and the Father “the determining potency.” This might fit “the Father in me”; it would leave untouched the second and equal statement, “I in the Father.” For exactly as the Father is in the Son, so the Son is in the Father. And these two are persons, hence their oneness is that of being. This is the ineffable mystery that Jesus, God’s own Son, is in essence one with his Father. “He that hath seen me hath seen the Father,” 14:9. The relation of these two is an indissoluble interpenetration, equally from the Father to the Son, from the Son to the Father. For it the ancient church coined the term περιχώρησις essentialis, than which term no better one has yet been found.

That this essential interpenetrating oneness of the divine persons should manifest itself dynamically goes without saying. An additional part of the mystery is the place of the human nature in this divine oneness. All that we may venture to say is that its part in this oneness is wholly passive and receptive through its union with the person of the Son.

John 10:39

39 They were trying to arrest him again; and he escaped out of their hand. The supposition that when Jesus concluded by saying, “The Father in me, and I in the Father,” he toned down his statement made in v. 30, and that thus the Jews mitigated their violence and instead of stoning him at once sought only to arrest him, is untenable. The closing words say more, and say this more pointedly than v. 30. What stopped the immediate stoning was most probably the effective reference to Ps. 82 and the refutation of the charge of blasphemy. The Jews felt less sure on this point. So they closed in on Jesus to arrest him and to bring him to formal trial before the Sanhedrin, where the exact measure of his guilt could be determined. The imperfect ἐζήτουν = “they tried to arrest him,” and the following aorist records the outcome, in regular Greek fashion; “again” recalls 7:30 and 44.

All that John records is that Jesus escaped their hands. How he succeeded in doing so has called forth various conjectures. Those that assume some kind of miraculous action are least probable, as John would probably have indicated as much if Jesus had escaped in this way. He escaped—that is all.

John 10:40

40 And he went away again beyond the Jordan to the place where John was at the first baptizing. The final break had come—Jesus did not return to Jerusalem until Palm Sunday and the final Passover. The adverb πάλιν would intimate that Jesus went back to the place from whence he last came to Jerusalem (v. 22), where thus he had already a short time before spent about two months (the interval between the last two festivals). John does not again (1:28) name the place, but he indicates that the Baptist did much of his work here “at the first,” τὸπρῶτον, adverbial accusative. That is how the people came to make the comparison in v. 41, with the result that many came to faith. And he remained there until he was called to Bethany by the death of Lazarus (11:7), after which he retired to Ephraim (11:54).

John 10:41

41 And many came to him and were saying, John did no sign, but all whatever John said concerning this man was true. Only a glimpse at the activity of Jesus here in Perea is afforded us. The people flocked to him, and he must have taught them as usual. These people, in a way, compare Jesus with the Baptist, the memory of whom was still vivid among them, for they remark that the Baptist did nothing (οὑδέν) in the way of a sign, implying that Jesus did signs also in this locality. At the same time they connect Jesus and the Baptist and quite in the right manner when they remark that literally everything the Baptist had told them about Jesus “was true,” i.e., when he told it, as now they are able to see for themselves. The testimony of the Baptist was thus bearing its fruit.

John 10:42

42 And many believed on him there. The aorist may be ingressive, “came to believe,” or simply historical, just reporting the fact. What the rulers at the capital reject with violence these simple people receive for their salvation. John says nothing about them and thus leaves the impression of great success in this corner of the land. Stones for Jesus in Jerusalem, faith for Jesus in Perea. With this bright picture the dark and ugly story of this part of John’s Gospel (chapters 7 to 10) ends.

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

M.-M. The Vocabulary of the Greek Testament, by James Hope Moulton and George Milligan.

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