John 20

CHAPTER XX

6. The Linen Wrappings—Empty! 20:1–10

Those who deny the bodily resurrection of Jesus have arrayed against them not only the four evangelists but the entire New Testament, plus the prophecies of the Old. They are answered in the most decisive way by Paul, first, on the fact of the resurrection, in 1 Cor. 15:3–11, and, secondly, on the significance of a denial of the resurrection, in v. 12–19. If Christ is not risen from the dead, we have no Christianity, no Christian faith and hope, and no Christian Church in any sense of the word; for then we have no Christ, no Redeemer, no Savior, and no Lord.

John, of course, assumes that his readers know the accounts of the synoptists. What he himself adds is almost throughout new material, hence of supreme value on that account. He writes with exceptional detail and great vividness; R. 868 draws special attention to the tenses employed in the entire twentieth chapter. As regards alleged disagreements between John and the synoptists, these can be satisfactorily explained. Careful reading removes most of them. The few difficulties that remain are due to our ignorance of the full details of the story; and this, in turn, is due to the plain fact that each of the evangelists presents only a part of the story, so that we must piece their testimony together.

In doing this we may at times be puzzled, and even make mistakes, but the truth of all that is offered us by the evangelists remains beyond question. Some may deny the latter, yet doubt and denial alter no facts. It is easier to believe every word of the Gospels than to believe the statements of the critics who find contradictions and discrepancies.

John 20:1

1 Now on the first day of the week Mary Magdalene goes early, it still being dark, to the tomb and sees that the stone has been taken away from the tomb. A continuative δέ simply proceeds with the narrative. The Jews had no names for the weekdays and therefore designated them with reference to the Sabbath, thus τῇμιᾷ (ἡμέρᾳ) τῶνσαββάτων would be “on the first (day) with reference to the Sabbath,” i.e., the first that follows the Sabbath. The plural σάββατα, however, may mean either the Sabbath day, designated by a plural like the festivals in order to include all that belongs to the festive celebration; or an entire week, a length of time bounded by two Sabbaths. Thus we may here translate, “on the first day of the week.” Since John wrote for Greek readers, the latter translation seems preferable. Luke has “very early in the morning,” Mark, “at the rising of the sun”; while John writes, “early, it still being dark,” literally, “darkness still being” (a genitive absolute).

All three are correct. The women left home early while it was yet dark and arrived at the tomb at dawn. Here some find the first contradiction. We are told that Matthew writes ὀψὲσαββάτων, “late on the Sabbath” (R. V.), “in the end of the Sabbath” (A. V.), and the Moffatt commentary, “at the close of the Sabbath.” This would be late on Saturday before sunset.

But only in classical Greek does ὀψέ mean “late”; in the Koine it means “long after,” erst nach (Zahn); Mark, “when the Sabbath was passed.” Matthew himself at once adds: “as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week.” Are we to think that Matthew contradicts himself, first writing “late on Saturday” and then “at the dawn of Sunday”?

John intends to tell us only what one of the women did, namely how Mary Magdalene summoned him and Peter; so he writes only about her. It has often been pointed out that John himself indicates that Mary Magdalene was not alone, for in v. 2 he reports her as using the plural: “we do not know.” The effort to nullify this plural by pointing to v. 13 where she says, “I do not know,” is unavailing. To John and to Peter, who knew that a number of women had gone out to the tomb, Mary Magdalene just after leaving the other women properly says, “we do not know”; while afterward, when speaking to the angel, she says just as properly, “I do not know.” The assumption that John either did not know the facts as already recorded, by the synoptists, or intended to contradict their reports, is unwarranted. On Mary Magdalene compare 19:25. We decline to think that she preceded the other women; they must have gone together. The scene is not hard to imagine.

On the way out the women bethink themselves of the stone which closed the opening of the tomb. Will they be able to roll it away? Then they come within sight of the tomb, and to their consternation see that the stone has already been removed, the door is exposed. They all leap to the natural conclusion that the tomb has been rifled by the enemies of Jesus, the Jews. This conclusion is the more natural when one has seen the Garden Tomb, which we have described in 19:41. The door of this tomb was closed by a great circular slab of stone, rolled into a groove in front of the door, fitting tightly against the face of the cliff into which the tomb had been hewn.

Like a wheel this slab could be rolled to the left in its groove, thus exposing the door. The groove slanted so that its lowest point was in front of the opening of the tomb. Now what the women saw was not that this circular slab had been wheeled to the left in its groove but had been thrown out of its groove, away from the opening, and was lying flat on the ground. The evidence of violence was beyond question.

John writes “the stone,” as though his readers know all about it from Matthew and from Mark; we may note that Luke 24:2 does the same. Note the participial construction τὸνλίθονἠρμένον, “the stone having been taken away,” after βλέπει. The article speaks of the stone as of the one which the readers know. Matthew tells us that an angel descended from heaven and rolled the stone away and then sat upon it. Moffatt labors under a misconception when he calls it “a great boulder,” as do others who think of a rectangular slab of stone set into the opening or door. Matthew brings us nearest to the resurrection of Jesus.

We may combine as follows. While the women are on the way, the dead body in the tomb comes to life (this is the so-called vivificatio or quickening, 1 Pet. 3:18) and moves out of the closed tomb through the rock. Because of its very nature this act was witnessed by no one. The soldiers guarding the tomb saw and knew nothing of it. The tomb was now empty. In the next instant an earthquake shook the ground, an angel flashed from the sky, perhaps touched the stone, making it fly from its place, the soldiers lay like dead, recovered, and fled.

The stone, lying flat on the ground, revealed that the tomb was empty; the angel sat upon it, waiting for the women. Before they arrived he entered the tomb. We have no means of tracing the movements of the second angel, v. 12.

John 20:2

2 She runs, therefore, and comes to Simon Peter and to the other disciple, for whom Jesus had affection, and says to them, They took away the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they put him. What Mary Magdalene saw all the rest saw too and with the same dismay. Frightened exclamations must have been exchanged, perhaps in the same words that come to Mary Magdalene’s lips when she found Peter and John. The women were convinced that the body of Jesus had been stolen by the Jews. Now Mary Magdalene turns and runs for help. She may have shouted, “I am going for help!” Perhaps she was the youngest and fleetest in the group.

No reason appeared why all should run back for help. Some at least felt that they should investigate and see just what had been done in the tomb. Mary Magdalene’s quick thought and her instantly acting on that thought prevented any one of the other women from joining her in running back. At least no one did. Some have said that fear numbs the limbs, but sometimes exactly the reverse is true—fear is the most potent power to incite speed.

Mary Magdalene finds Peter and John. The repetition of πρός has led to the supposition that she did not find the two together but hurried from one to the other. That this deduction is not necessary is shown by R. 566, since in later Greek especially the preposition is frequently repeated where more than one noun is used. The most that we may conclude is that Mary looked first at one and then at the other when she exclaimed about the removal of the body. Her excited eyes wanted to see that her words had the proper effect. How did it happen that Peter and John were together?

We are reminded of 18:15, 16, and can say no more. Where were these two? Where the rest of the eleven? Who can tell? Only these two were here—that is all. If Mary Magdalene knew where the others were, she knew, too, where to find these two and felt that she could count on them, and so she hastened to where they were.

John again hides his identity but this time he designates himself as “the other disciple, for whom Jesus had affection,” using φιλεῖν and not, as heretofore, ἀγαπᾶν. This may suggest that a difference is here intended. In 21:15–17 John brings out the difference in the strongest way. Always ἀγαπᾶν is the love of full understanding and of purpose combined with that understanding, while φιλεῖν is the love of personal affection, liking, and preference. The verbs are used with fine tact in 11:3 and 5. The former is by far the higher type of love.

When the two are used in relation to each other, then, according to the situation, this relation becomes important. In chapter 11 the sisters appeal only to the affection of Jesus, while Jesus himself deals with Lazarus according to the highest kind of love. In chapter 21 Jesus questions Peter first as to Peter’s higher love, and when Peter, who once boasted of his love as being greater than that of the other disciples, now in his deep humility ventures to assert only his affection for Jesus (φιλῶ), Jesus raises a question regarding even that love. But with regard to John the opposite is true. First he tells us that Jesus embraced him with ἀγάπη, and now he adds that Jesus felt also φιλία for him. Over and above the love of intelligence and purpose Jesus had also the love of affection for John.

Mary Magdalene exclaims: “They took away the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they put him.” She certainly said more than this. Questions must have been thrown at her, and she promptly answered them. But the gist of all that passed lies in the word John placed into his record. He preserves even the excitement with which Mary Magdalene spoke—how she at first said nothing about the stone, about whom she suspected of removing the body, or about any other details. Only two frightful facts: the body gone, and no one knows where it is. The two aorists state only the facts as facts, whereas for acts that have just recently happened the English prefers the perfect, R. 845. “They took away” indicates no subject.

R. 1202 lets this mean: “people took away”; but this can scarcely be correct. Mary Magdalene means that the Jews did this. Who but they would rifle the grave? Not satisfied to kill Jesus, their hate for him has now desecrated even his dead body. They will not let him lie in this fine tomb of Joseph’s, they have made away with his body in some hideous way. She calls Jesus τὸνΚύριον, “the Lord,” the title Peter used in 6:68, which in chapters 11, 13, and 14, constantly comes so naturally to the lips of Jesus’ followers.

Although Mary Magdalene thinks he is dead and all his work for nought, she cannot do otherwise than still call him “the Lord.” It is a little touch, yet how genuine! The supposition that the indefinite “they” might indicate that some of the disciples or the friends of Jesus are the people Mary has in mind, does not agree with the entire situation. It is incredible that the women would not have known about this act; incredible that Mary would not have asked, “Where have you put him?” or, “Do you know where they put him?” Every feature in John’s description would be out of line.

“We do not know,” etc., means, “we women who went out to anoint his body.” The significant plural has been explained in v. 1. It most perfectly links up John’s account with that of the synoptists. By using this plural Mary Magdalene is not assuming something, namely that the other women think as she does. She does not say “we” when she really had a right to say only “I.” Who can prove that no interchange of opinion took place among the women before Mary Magdalene left? They were all of one mind: the Jews had snatched the body away, and the women feared the worst. Mary Magdalene’s word to Peter and to John is a request for help. Their action is the proof.

John 20:3

3 Peter, therefore, went out, and the other disciple, and they were coming to the tomb. And the two were running together, and the other disciple did run ahead, faster than Peter, and came as the first to the tomb. At this point we must bring in Matt. 28:1–10; Mark 16:1–8; and Luke 24:1–12. Two ways are open. Either Peter and John did not at once start after hearing Mary Magdalene’s report, so that on their way back the other women came to them with the report of the angel’s message and of the appearance of Jesus; or Peter and John did start at once, met the other women on the way, heard their astounding report, and then ran to the tomb. The latter is preferable and seems to harmonize best with the action as described by John.

The aorist “went out” states that the two started. Then John turns painter and with an imperfect, “they were coming to the tomb,” shows us the two disciples on their way still some distance from the tomb.

John 20:4

4 We see the two on their way but not as yet running. First only ἤρχοντο as if Mary Magdalene had indeed stirred them to action but had not excited them. Now follows another imperfect, “and the two were running, together.” Why did they break into a run, a regular race, in which John left the older Peter behind? Why this sudden excitement, in which John paid no attention to Peter but ran with all the speed he had and left Peter behind? We take it that the two disciples had met the women and had heard from them what they had to tell. What they heard seemed indeed “like idle talk” (ὡσεὶλῆρος, Luke 24:11) also to all the rest who presently heard it, but it did excite these two.

Now they could not get to the tomb rapidly enough; they started to run, first side by side with incredulous but excited exclamations, then John forging ahead. Luke 24:12 is summary, as the aorists ἀναστὰςἔδραμε plainly show, which report only the fact and nothing more. It is John who helps to fill in the connection and the details. While Luke mentions only Peter in v. 12, in v. 24 we see that Peter was not alone: “certain of them (τινές) that were with us went to the tomb,” namely Peter and John, as John informs us.

So these two were the first to hear what the other women had to say. This removes an old difficulty that is otherwise encountered, namely how Peter and John reached the tomb without encountering the women who were returning from the tomb. The old solution that several roads led to the tomb, and that thus no meeting took place, is not necessary. The two parties met on the way. We also see what caused the sudden running of Peter and of John. All we need as an explanation for John’s outrunning Peter is his youth. Some think of his greater love, others of Peter’s feeling of guilt, and Gregory the Great even allegorizes. One adequate explanation settles the question; additions then become superfluous.

John 20:5

5 Having glanced in, he sees the linen bands lying, yet he did not go in. Our versions translate παρακύπτειν, “to stoop and look in,” the A. V. emphasizing the stooping; this, it seems, was done because the translators imagined the entrance to be low. Some have thought of a low passageway. The entrance required no stooping; in fact, stooping would prevent the vision of the linen bands, lying flat on the floor of the casket-like place hewn out for the body. John had to look down into the place, over the top edge of the thin rock wall that formed one side of the receptacle for the body.

The verb means to peep, to glance to the side, or just to look. John again has the vivid aoristic present “he sees.” What he sees is remark able indeed: the linen bands (11:40) lying wholly undisturbed in their proper place with the body of Jesus gone out of them. Commentators ask why John did not go in. Such haste to reach the place, and now this reluctance about going in! First such an alarming report and then such an incredible report, both completely upsetting the mind; yet John ventures only as far as the door! It will not do to say that John saw enough with that first glance, for presently he follows Peter in and looks more closely.

The usual explanation is best, namely the psychological difference between John’s personality and that of Peter. Impetuous Peter strides right in; the deep, tender soul of John at first only glances in and then, struck by what it sees, pauses at the inexplicable sight. Fears of ceremonial pollution are far from his mind. Natural dread of entering the place of the dead, even such dread intensified by the thought that this is his beloved Master’s tomb, is an insufficient explanation. It is what John sees from the entrance that rivets his feet.

John 20:6

6 Simon Peter, therefore, also comes, following him, and went into the tomb and beholds the linen bands lying, and the cloth, which was upon his head, not lying together with the linen bands but apart, having been folded up, in a place by itself. Those who think of Peter’s feeling of guilt as slowing up his speed in running to the tomb must make him forget this when he now arrives at the tomb, for he steps right in. The same sight greets his eyes: τὸὀθόνιακείμενα, which John repeats, reversing participle and noun. This is the astounding phenomenon: “the linen bands lying.” Nothing whatever had been done with them, they were merely lying. We are not to imagine that they had been unwound from the body as was done with the grave bands of Lazarus when he came to life. Neither had they been cut or stripped off in some other way.

They lay just as they had been wound about the limbs and the body, only the body was no longer in them, and thus the wrappings lay flat. All the aromatic spices were exactly as they had been strewn between the layers of linen, and these layers, one wound over the other, were numerous, so that all those spices could be held between them.

For his own glance from the door John writes βλέπει, “he sees”; for Peter standing inside close beside the casket-like place in which the linen bands lay John writes θεωρεῖ, “he beholds,” “he views.” Peter stood there, looking and looking at those bands.

No human being wrapped round and round with bands like this could possibly slip out of them without greatly disturbing them. They would have to be unwound, or cut through, or cut and stripped off. They would thus, if removed, lie strewn around in disorder or heaped in a pile, or folded up in some way. If the body had been desecrated in the tomb by hostile hands, this kind of evidence would appear. But hostile hands would have carried off the body as it was, wrappings and all, to get it away as soon as possible and to abuse it later and elsewhere. But here the linen bands were. Both their presence and their undisturbed condition spoke volumes. Here, indeed, was a sign to behold. It corroborated what the women had told Peter and John on the way out to the tomb: Jesus was risen from the dead!

John 20:7

7 A second sign lay beside the first. The σουδάριον, which had been on the head of Jesus, bound around it to envelop the head, lay in a place apart from the wrappings, neatly folded up, or we may say, rolled up. It had not been snatched off and thrown aside. The perfect participle is passive: somebody had carefully folded this cloth and had laid it there in the most orderly way, that it should serve as a second witness to testify to the resurrection of Jesus. The Greek term is the Latin sudarium, taken over also into the Aramaic, the German Schweisstuch, literally “sweat-cloth.” “Napkin” was a good translation in the time of Shakespeare and the A. V. but will not do now even if modern translators use it for lack of something better; “handkerchief” is likewise inappropriate.

It is well that John describes it: “which was upon the head.” The difference between the way in which the linen bands were simply “lying” and the way in which the headcloth was folded up and laid “apart in a place by itself” is too marked, too intentional, to warrant the conclusion that the bands were also folded up after having been stripped off (Nebe). The very opposite is indicated. If both the headcloth and the bands had been folded up, neither would indicate the miracle of the resurrection. Then Peter and John could conclude only that friendly human hands had for some strange reason unclothed the dead body and taken it away. What these disciples saw was vastly more.

One may ask why Jesus had not left the cloth as he did the bands, simply passing out of it and leaving its fastenings undisturbed; for that, too, would have been an eloquent sign. One answer is that then both the cloth and the bands would have uttered the same testimony; then Jesus would have left but one witness. He left two (Matt. 18:16). Folding up the cloth and placing it apart from the bands indicates an ordering hand. We may think of an angel. The preposition εἰς is static, R. 593: “in one place” (not “into”), and χωρίς appears as an adverb only here in the New Testament, R. 648.

John 20:8

8 Then, therefore, went in the other disciple also, who came as the first to the tomb, and he saw and believed. Strange exegesis when Catholic writers here find the primacy of the pope: John would not step into the tomb ahead of Peter, John thus bows to the supremacy of Peter. Strange in another direction is the opinion that what John believed was Mary Magdalene’s word that enemies had dragged the body away. Even Luther makes this mistake. No, when John saw what Peter saw, John “came to believe,” ἐπίστευσε, ingressive aorist. Luke 24:12 informs us regarding Peter: “he went home, wondering at what has occurred,” θαυμάζωντὸγεγονός. Peter only wondered and wondered, trying to figure out what had occurred. He got no farther. Where was his papal primacy? But John believed.

Yet he writes this word with no joy at all; he writes it with bowed head as a confession. John has to say, “he saw and believed,” he could not say simply, “he believed.” In v. 29 Jesus says to Thomas: “Because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed. Blessed they that have not seen, and have believed.” Recall also 4:48, “Except you see signs and wonders, you in no wise believe.” John says nothing about Peter (Luke has said enough); all he does is to confess that he was really no better than Thomas—both had to see before they believed. Yes, John “believed.” And in this context the word must mean that he believed in the resurrection of Jesus. The effort to make it mean only that John believed in Jesus in a general way would say nothing. “He saw and believed” means that he believed in consequence of what he saw. The evidence before his eyes he read aright.

And yet how weak this faith was! John never opened his mouth even to Peter, and he said nothing to anyone after he reached home. None of the eleven believed the testimony of the women and that of Mary Magdalene (v. 18). Even now John failed to speak and to confess. He had only littleness of faith; his faith could not rise above his doubts; he was only one step removed from unbelief. Those who represent the disciples as a credulous lot sadly misrepresent them.

They were the reverse. They finally believed only after they could not do otherwise. Let us not blame them overmuch; for their holding out so long against believing is added proof to us that the proofs of the resurrection of Jesus are convincing beyond the shadow of a doubt. He who will not believe today establishes his own guilt. The kind of proof he demands he shall, indeed, receive at last when it is too late, when he, too, shall see and shall mourn with eternal grief, Rev. 1:7.

John 20:9

9 John explains how it came about that he had to see before he believed: For not yet knew they the Scriptures that he must rise from the dead. This was the trouble, they followed their own thoughts even when Jesus spoke so plainly to them. Take Luke 18:31–34, where Jesus foretold his passion and his resurrection in the plainest terms, stating that “all things that are written by the prophets concerning the Son of man shall be accomplished”; and yet “they understood none of these things,” etc. With deep regret John again brings out this blindness. Since Jesus himself presented his resurrection as the fulfillment of Scripture, John here goes back to the Scripture and does not refer to what Jesus himself had said about his resurrection. Here we learn the minor value of signs: they are only steppingstones to faith.

The real basis of faith is “the Scripture,” the revealed and inspired Word of God. On this basis faith is to rest. John is here not minimizing the words of Jesus as compared with the Old Testament Scripture. What he does imply is that as yet, not understanding the Scripture, the disciples, of course, also failed to understand the words of Jesus. With the divine promise still dark in their minds, the words of Jesus regarding the fulfillment were necessarily also dark. What hid the one from them hid also the other.

The past perfect ἤδεισαν is always used as an imperfect: “they were not yet in possession of knowledge.” Luke 24:44–47 shows most decisively how the risen Savior himself grounded the faith of the disciples on the Scriptures. Even the appearances of Jesus to the disciples are to convince them, not by their mere reality alone, but as the fulfillment of the Scriptures. In this Jesus is consistent to the last.

The Scripture to which John here refers is Ps. 16:10, used as proof for the resurrection of Jesus in Acts 2:24, etc., and 13:35, etc. To this prophecy we must add Ps. 2:7 on the basis of Acts 13:33. Likewise Ps. 110:1 and 4, used in Heb. 6:20. But we cannot stop with these merely on the ground that they are used for establishing the resurrection in the New Testament record. From Luke 24:44 we see that Jesus went much farther; he had used “the law of Moses” (the Pentateuch), the prophets, and the Psalms, hence all manner of passages. And these he had expounded in the same illuminating manner concerning his own resurrection as he expounded Exod. 3:6 and 16 to the Sadducees in Matt. 22:29, etc., concerning the general resurrection. Of them Jesus said just what John says of himself and of Peter: “Ye-do err, not knowing the Scriptures.”

It is well enough to say that δεῖ, “must,” predicates “moral necessity.” What God promises he is morally bound to fulfill. But in Matt. 22:29 Jesus adds concerning the general resurrection “the power of God.” In 1 Cor. 6:14 this power is back of both our resurrection and that of Jesus. In Rom. 1:4; Eph. 1:19, 20; Phil. 3:10 this power is further emphasized. Beside the moral necessity we place the power of God and the necessity of God’s own will which carries his purpose into effect so that no question about it can possibly arise. The phrase ἐκνεκρῶν is explained in 2:22. One more thing deserves notice.

John indicates that, apart even from the Scriptures, the evidence left in the tomb by Jesus was so great and convincing that already this wrought faith in him, albeit only a certain degree of faith. When he now would know the Scriptures, this faith would become mighty indeed.

John 20:10

10 The disciples went away again to their own home. They did not touch the linen. When their hungry eyes could look no longer, they turned back. Nor does πάλιν mean that they had been here before and now went back a second time. The phrase πρὸςἑαυτούς, like the singular in Luke 24:12, means “to their own home.” It is frequently used in this sense. What did Peter and John say when they got back? Luke 24:24 tells us: that they found what the women had reported, that “him they saw not.” That was all. No word of faith even from John.

7. Jesus Appears to Mary Magdalene, 11–18

John 20:11

11 John’s purpose is to tell us about the appearance of Jesus to Mary Magdalene, which the synoptists omit save for the short account in Mark 16:9–13. When Mark states that Jesus appeared “first” (πρῶτον) to Mary Magdalene, this may mean “first,” not in an absolute sense, but with reference to the two other appearances mentioned by Mark. Now Mary was standing at the tomb outside sobbing. As, therefore, she was sobbing she glanced into the tomb and beholds two angels in white sitting, one at the head, and one at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. After summoning Peter and John, Mary Magdalene followed them out to the tomb. They had left by the time she arrived at the tomb.

Naturally she could not go as fast as they did. One thing seems quite certain: Mary did not meet the other women on the way. The evidence is that she knows nothing about the angel in the tomb, does not recognize the two angels as such when presently she glances into the tomb. Her whole action betrays that she had not heard from the other women that Jesus had appeared to them alive. We have assumed that Peter and John did meet the women but would not believe what they reported. Could not the same assumption be made regarding Mary?

Evidently not; her action at the tomb is so different from that of Peter and of John. We are compelled to say that Mary had not met the other women. How did it happen that she failed to meet them?

Had she failed to meet also Peter and John? This is the general assumption. The explanation offered is that several paths led to the tomb. It is used, too, by all those who assume that Peter and John did not meet the other women on the way. Two paths out to the tomb would be enough. The women took the one back to the city, Peter and John and after them Mary, the other in hurrying out to the tomb.

Or, if Peter and John met the women, Mary took the other path and did not meet them. On returning, Peter and John took one path while Mary was going out by the other. All this seems well enough. One thing makes us hesitate as to Peter and John and the women: why the two men all at once started to race as they did? Their meeting the women would explain this action. So we have ventured to assume that they met.

Now as to a possible meeting of Mary with the returning Peter and John. We note a change of thought in her. When she summons Peter and John, all her fear is that the enemies of Jesus have snatched away his body. But now, again arrived at the tomb, her thought is that some friendly person (perhaps the gardener upon Joseph’s order) has removed the body, shall we say to a place deemed safer? Her sorrow is only that she does not know where the body is. She does not look for the men she so frantically summoned.

She only stands and sobs. This change in Mary gives us pause. She is no longer looking for help; she is asking of supposed friends where she might find the body. She has dropped the idea of enemies; for, of course, these would not let her know even where the body is, to say nothing of letting her go to the body. All this makes the impression that Mary had met Peter and John, had been assured by them that no enemies had had a hand in what had happened as she first thought, but, of course, had also been told that they saw nothing of the body. This agrees perfectly with Luke 24:24: “certain of them which were with us (Peter and John) went to the sepulcher, and found it even so as the women had said (when they met them in going out), but him they saw not.” This is exactly what Mary seems to know as she weeps before the tomb.

Neither Peter nor John, plus the other men, believed the women’s “idle talk” about having seen Jesus and hence said nothing of this “talk” to Mary; and John’s faith was locked in silence all day long until the evening (Luke 24:34).

Thus we now have Mary, her frightened excitement gone, quietly standing in front of the tomb. The mystery of the disappearance of the body is unsolved. She seems to know that Peter and John could do nothing. They left the tomb, she cannot do so. She cannot leave the beloved place. Her helpless love breaks out in sobs, for κλαίειν means loud, unrestrained weeping. It was a woman’s way to give her tears full course.

With the imperfect ὡςοὗνἔκλαιε John describes Mary standing there sobbing. The aorist παρέκυψεν notes the mere fact that she glanced into the tomb (see v. 5 on the meaning of the verb).

John 20:12

12 But the vivid aoristic present θεωρεῖ tells how her eyes, blurred with tears, rest upon the two angels in the tomb. Though clad in white, ἐνλευκοῖς (supply ἱματίοις, R. 653), and thus conspicuous in the shadowed tomb, Mary, though she sees them, really does not see them. She is neither startled nor does she address them. Only one explanation has been found for this apparent riddle. Mary has so completely given her heart to one thought and to the deep grief it brought that all other impressions fail to register in her mind. “No man is so bravehearted but what he would be terrified if unexpectedly he should behold an angel; and she even a woman. Yet she moves about so that she neither sees nor hears nor inquires about anything; so completely her heart is elsewhere.” Luther.

The white color is symbolical of the purity and the holiness of heaven. The angels are seated as though waiting for Mary. If they were standing, this would imply that they were about to act or about to leave. Quietly, peacefully they sit. For, indeed, this tomb was both a holy and a blessed place. Though it is the house of death, no death had been here, no odor of death clung here.

Those linen bands spoke of death but of death destroyed and overcome, and thus of life and immortality brought to light. This house, intended for death, was the very portal of heaven. Angels, indeed, belonged in this tomb. Little had Joseph thought what kind of a tomb he had the workmen hew out for him. It is John who tells us that two angels were present. The linen bands and the headcloth were two earthly witnesses, and these angels two heavenly witnesses to attest the Lord’s resurrection to men.

Heaven and earth unite in the tomb of Jesus.

The synoptists mention only one angel. Those who will may register another discrepancy. One angel spoke for the two, and thus the synoptists mention one, namely the speaker. It is, of course, possible that the other women saw only one angel; but we prefer to think that from the moment of the earthquake onward two were present. Why did Peter and John not see them? The answer is not that the angels stepped into another passage in the tomb and hid themselves.

The heavenly messengers make themselves visible to those who are to see them. The deeper question is not asked, why Peter and John were not to see and to hear the angels, why only the women and Mary. God arranged the whole matter of the revelation of his Son’s resurrection. We have no more to say. “One at the head, and one at the feet” has well been compared with the position of the cherubim at either end of the mercy seat or lid on the ark of the covenant in the Holy of Holies in Solomon’s Temple. While ἔκειτο is imperfect in form, it is used as a past perfect: “had lain,” R. 906.

John 20:13

13 And they say to her, Woman, why art thou sobbing? She says to them, They took away my Lord, and I do not know where they put him. If the angels had not accosted Mary, she probably would have paid no further attention to them, such was her state of mind. John uses the plural ἐκεῖνοι as though both angels spoke, although we may well suppose that one spoke for both. The address, “woman,” recalls the way in which Jesus addressed his mother in 2:4; 19:26. The question as to why she is sobbing intends to call her to herself, to give her pause.

It breathes friendly sympathy, and it intimates that no cause for her sobbing really exists. Indeed, why does she weep?—when we should all have had cause to weep to all eternity if what she wept for had been given her, the dead body of her Lord! Why does she weep?—when the empty tomb, the shining angels, the way in which the linen lay, which fact so impressed Peter and John, are trying their best to call to her mind her own Lord’s words that on the third day he would rise again! But we are often like her, grieving where no real cause for grief exists if only we would heed God and his Word which opens to us such fulness of joy. O these blinding tears that dim both eyes and hearts!

In John’s report of Mary’s answer ὅτι seems to be only recitative and not a part of her answer. It is her conduct in general which lends to her answer the meaning that she now no longer thinks of the Jews as the ones who have removed the body of her Lord but of friends of Jesus, whoever they may be. Except for the intimate “my Lord” and the singular “I do not know,” Mary’s word is the same as that addressed in v. 2 to Peter and to John. This makes many think that the sense is the same; it has also been thought that the present singular “I know” makes the plural “we know” in v. 2 equivalent to the singular. But the situations are entirely different. “The Lord” is enough in v. 2; now to these persons sitting in the tomb, not known to Mary, she says, “my Lord.” Her grief is due to the fact that she does not know where the body of Jesus now is. Dead though Jesus is, he is still her Lord; dead though his body is, her love so fervently desires its presence.

It is the last link binding her heart to him—and now this, too, is broken. In the second aorist ἔθηκαν the κ of the singular is also used for the plural.

John 20:14

14 Having said these things, she turned herself back and beholds Jesus standing and was not aware that it was Jesus. What caused Mary to turn around? And what made her fail to recognize Jesus when she actually beheld him (θεωρεῖ, the same verb as in v. 12)? The text offers no answer, and for this reason we might pass these questions by. But we are not ready to have them ruled out as improper questions, improper because Jesus’ body is now in a glorified state and is recognized or not recognized as he alone wills. This idea is imported from Luke 24:16.

What happened there cannot be applied to all the other appearances of Jesus. In the present instance we should have to include the angels. Mary “beholds” them but does not recognize them as angels, exactly as she “beholds” Jesus and does not recognize him. Was she not to recognize them? We refuse to believe that Jesus did not will the recognition, i.e., that here the cause lay in him. It surely lay in Mary alone.

What made Mary suddenly turn around when facing the angels in the tomb cannot have been the noise of Jesus’ approach. This assumes that he had walked as ordinary men walk to the place where Mary stood. But in his new state he suddenly appeared here at the tomb. Besser’s suggestion is far more appropriate: the action of the angels made Mary turn about. At the sight of Jesus they arose and bowed in adoration, and thus Mary recognized the presence of another. But just as the white garments of the angels failed to register in her mind, so also this action of the angels, and so also the appearance of Jesus himself.

The thought that Jesus had arisen from the dead was far from her mind. In her paroxism of grief one thought, and one alone, filled her soul: the dead body of her Lord is gone. This breaks her heart and closes her heart against what is before her eyes. Mary’s blindness is subjective. May we add anything of an objective nature? We agree with those who do.

Jesus had changed. It was the same Jesus who stood before Mary in the very body she had seen laid in the grave, yet now he was in a new state. What his form and his features were like, who will say? In the case of Lazarus it was different, for he returned to his former mode of existence; Jesus appeared in a new mode. He was in a supernatural state. The eyes that beheld him as he now appeared did not see an appearance that was a mere duplicate of that of the days when he walked familiarly with his disciples.

We cannot describe the change, but we also cannot deny the change. In comparing the accounts of the different appearances we may even say that they were not always the same. Mary held only one image of Jesus in her mind, that of the former days; the image now presenting itself to her eyes was different. This change helped to prevent her instant recognition of Jesus. The supposition that “the evangelist probably supposed it still to be dark” rests on the denial of the Johannine authorship of the fourth Gospel and puts the supposed writer in conflict with the plain facts.

John 20:15

15 For a few moments this continues. Jesus says to her, Woman, why art thou sobbing? Whom art thou seeking? The first question shows the perfect accord of Jesus with his angels. From two sides comes this identical question, aiming at the same effect in Mary. Yet Jesus again asks after Mary has given an answer to the angels.

That means that her answer is not complete enough, she has not caught all that the question implies. In order to help her Jesus adds the second question, “Whom art thou seeking?” Now Mary has already said that she is seeking “my Lord,” but what she had in mind was “the dead body of my Lord.” This second question of Jesus with its interrogative pronoun “whom” implies? living person as the one sought. Jesus does not ask “what” art thou seeking. He intends to correct Mary’s reply to the angels. She would be right in seeking one living; she is wrong in continuing to seek one still dead. More than this.

The person speaking to Mary would intimate to her that he could help her find the living but could not help her find the dead. “Whom art thou seeking?” Behold, I am here, not the dead body of thy Lord but thy living Lord himself!

It is impossible to think that the question of the angels and those of Jesus are not intended in their evident sense, namely to open the eyes of Mary to what is actually before them. These questions are in open conflict with the idea that Jesus is still keeping Mary’s eyes veiled, or is still on his part withholding from her the revelation of his identity. These questions intend to open Mary’s eyes. She is to stop sobbing, to see the proof of Jesus’ resurrection, to see Jesus himself, risen from the dead and living forever.

But as in so many instances (take as an example Philip in 14:8, etc.) the intent of Jesus is not at once attained. Not that his effort is therefore wasted and lost; its fruit is only delayed. And all these efforts of his reveal only his kindly, patient love, and that to more than the person who may be directly concerned. She, thinking that he is the gardener, says to him, O sir, if thou didst carry him away, tell me where thou didst put him, and I will remove him. The maze in which Mary moves has not yet cleared away. Nothing but the dead body of Jesus is in her mind.

From that she cannot break away. Yet one change in her thought strikes us: she now thinks that a friendly hand has carried the body away, for Joseph’s gardener would be a friend, and Mary appeals to him as such. Matt. 27:57 calls Joseph “a rich man.” His new spacious tomb attests his wealth. He owned the spacious grove or “garden” in which the tomb was situated, and this would be in charge of a keeper. We should not think of a common laborer, tilling vegetables and flowers. This was not a garden such as that.

An ordinary laborer could not presume to remove a body from the tomb, nor would his master assign such a task to such a man. This “gardener” had the entire place in his charge and would have his dwelling in one part of it, say near the entrance.

Very unworthy ideas have been connected with this “gardener.” One is that Jesus first appeared as a common laborer and then suddenly changed. Another is that he had to look around for clothes to cover himself and found a shed with a laborer’s dirty clothes and put these on for lack of something better. He has even been dressed only in a loincloth, and this is supposed to be the way in which fieldhands were usually covered. One can only be surprised at meeting such ideas. It has been well said that the question where Jesus obtained his clothes for his different appearances during the forty days is as foolish as the one where the angels obtained their white garments. Jesus here appeared to Mary as he appeared to the women on the way from the tomb and as he appeared to the other disciples at various times.

Mary would not address this supposed keeper of the garden with the honorable title κύριε if he had been dressed in common, soiled clothes. Besides, this was Sunday of the great Passover week when little labor was done, and when people dressed for the celebration.

When Mary speaks of Jesus as “my Lord” she uses Κύριος as we do when we capitalize the title, as we do with “God.” When she addresses the supposed keeper of the garden as κύριος she uses the term in the current way, like our “sir” in respectful address. It is all very well to say that she does this because she is making a request, the fulfillment of which is in the nature of a favor. Yet should we not say more? Even though Mary fails to recognize Jesus, her eyes see a person of dignity, one whom Mary or any stranger would involuntarily address in a respectful manner. The verb βαστάζω means to pick up and carry to some place, while αἴρω means to lift and thus to remove. It seems too much like pressing the singulars to have them mean that the keeper of the garden lone-handedly carried away the body, and that Mary, equally lone-handedly would remove the body.

Luther does this with the latter verb, exclaiming: “A woman undertakes to carry a dead body!” Why press these singulars? Mary means that by the keeper’s directions the body was taken elsewhere for good reasons of his own, and that she will direct its removal to a place which she and her friends will select. No one asks what place she had in mind when she spoke. It is not necessary. The moment she knows where the body now rests she (ἐγώ, emphatic) will take the necessary steps to have it removed to a place which she” and her friends deem proper.

John 20:16

16 Now follows what has aptly been called the greatest recognition scene in all literature, and it is painted with only two words. Jesus says to her, Mary! She, having leaned forward, says to him in Hebrew, Rabbuni! which is to say, Teacher. No disguise in the appearance or in the tone of voice is dropped—Jesus is no actor. Only the one word Μαριάμ! This is the probable form on excellent textual authority.

Like a flash it went through Mary’s mind; she recognized Jesus on the instant. Who does not know the effect of suddenly calling a person’s name when that person thinks himself entirely among strangers? It was not merely the fact that Jesus and the angels had first said “woman,” as though addressing a stranger, and that now Jesus showed that he knew her name. Then Mary’s response would not have come so instantaneously. It is as though Jesus struck a bell, and the peal rings out at the very stroke.

John writes λέγει, as he does regularly, which means that Jesus did not use a loud tone of voice as if to startle Mary out of her wrong thoughts. Yet now, when her own name is pronounced, she instantly recognizes that the voice is that of Jesus. “The sheep hear his voice, and he calleth his own sheep by name, a for they know his voice,” 10:3, 4. It was the voice that Mary thought had been stilled in death forever. Here it spoke again with all that intimate quality that distinguished it from all other human voices. One word, yet so full of meaning. It was addressed to Mary in her deep grief and instantly turned that grief into joy.

It found her with her faith crushed and left her with faith instantly revived. In that one word and its tone was all the love, the sympathy, and the helpfulness of Jesus, and coupled with that an impressive seriousness, a deep gravity, an arresting grip: “Miriam!”

In v. 14 ἐστράφηεἰςτὰὀπίσω means that Mary turned completely around so that she faced Jesus. When in v. 16 John now writes στραφεῖσα, some think that the expression in v. 14 implies that Mary made only a half-turn; yet this is certainly incorrect, εἰςτὰὀπίσω is too decisive. Nor would a half-turn agree with θεωρεῖ. Others suppose that after her request to the supposed keeper of the garden Mary again turned partly away from him. But this is surely wrong, for she would certainly look at this “gardener,” expecting his reply. Mary was facing Jesus when he spoke her name, and στραφεῖσα means that she leaned forward and so uttered her reply.

The participle is used as in Luke 9:55; 10:23, where Jesus, too, leans toward his disciples, whom he already faces, and does not turn in order to face them. That also explains the aorist tense. That word “Mary!” struck her, her eyes opened wide, she bent forward, and then came the response from her lips, “Rabbuni!” John retains the original Aramaic and then, as in previous instances, translates the term, “Teacher.” This, however, does not convey the full meaning, which one of the Latin codices preserves in magister et domine, two others using domine alone. “Rabbuni” is far more choice than “Rabbi,” which is quite common and was frequently used by the disciples. In the latter the possessive suffix “i” has lost its meaning; it simply meant “teacher” and no longer “my teacher.” In “Rabbuni” this was less the case. Zahn gives “Rabbun” as an equivalent of ‘Adon, which is thus used extensively in Jewish literature for God in connections like “Lord of the world” or “of the worlds.” If Jesus had revealed himself by a work, Mary would probably have exclaimed, Κύριε, “Lord.” Compare 13:13.

Two things are worthy of note. First, that Jesus, who hitherto has used chiefly his Word in working upon the hearts of his disciples, now that he has entered his state of exaltation still uses the Word. He is still the Master-Teacher. We are not to expect a new medium for the building of his kingdom. “Not by the splendor of his divine majesty, not by the outward manifestation of his supermundane glory will he hurl to death the children of men.” Nebe. He retains the Word. Mary’s response, “Rabbuni,” uttered involuntarily, is exactly true.

Secondly, Jesus still seeks the individual soul. “If it is the glory of the great God who made heaven and earth that he telleth the number of the stars, and called them all by their names (Ps. 147:4), that he bringeth out their host by number, and calleth them all by names (Isa. 40:26; see Eisenach O. T. Selections, 517), it is likewise the glory of the Son of God that he is the Shepherd who calleth his sheep by name and leads them out, that he turns his eyes upon each individual and takes him to his heart.” Nebe.

John 20:17

17 From what Jesus now says we see that Mary, when she bent forward at the call of her name, sank to the ground and clasped tightly the limbs of Jesus. Jesus says to her, Stop clinging to me; for not yet have I ascended to the Father. But be going to my brethren and tell them, I am ascending to my Father and your Father, and my God and your God. The first word Jesus here utters has been variously understood. It surely does not mean, “Do not worship me now!” for Jesus accepts the worship of others. Nor, “Hold me not fast, because I must go to the Father,” for he intends to delay for yet forty days.

Nor, “because thou must hasten to my brethren,” which ignores the reason Jesus himself assigns. Nor, “Touch me only with the hands of faith,” which cannot be based on 14:28 and 16:22 as possibly being misunderstood by the disciples, this misunderstanding being conveyed also to Mary. Jesus’ word contains no contrast such as physical grasping and spiritual grasping. The verb is not θιγγάνειν, to touch lightly, or ψηλαφᾶν, to feel over, but ἅπτεσθαι, to cling to, to grasp tightly. As Mary recognizes Jesus, the first impulse of her heart is to seize hold of him whom she had lost and feared not to find again. Here he is, not dead, but marvelously alive again!

All her loss is turned into sudden possession. She clasps him as her own, never, never to lose him again. The old days that were before the tragedy on Golgotha have now returned, and she intends that they shall now stay, stay forever.

Kindly, firmly Jesus must say, “Stop clinging to me; for not yet have I ascended to the Father.” In prohibitions the present imperative forbids an act that has already begun, hence μὴἅπτου means, “stop clinging.” Why shall she stop? The reason is really twofold. First, Jesus has not yet ascended, is thus still remaining where his disciples can see him. Mary is not to fear that in a moment she will again lose Jesus. Secondly, she must know that Jesus has not come back into his former life to go on with that as heretofore. He will ascend to the Father; he is now in a new state, the consummation of which will follow presently.

No; she will not lose him after all. He will be nearer than ever to her then, seated at God’s right hand and thus forever with all those who are his (Matt. 28:20). And this blessed news is not for Mary alone but for all the disciples, who certainly cannot receive it too soon.

Hence the command, “But be going to my brethren and tell them,” first the durative present imperative for an action that naturally takes time, “be going,” then an aorist for the short delivery of the brief message. Here Jesus calls the disciples “my brethren.” Hitherto he had called them “friends” (15:14, 15); a new, higher, a permanent relation now begins. The disciples are to know that, although Jesus has risen and is glorified and duly worshipped by them, he acknowledges them as no less than his “brethren.” “If now Christ is our brother, I would like to know what we still lack a Brethren in the flesh have common possessions, have together one father, one inheritance, otherwise they would not be brethren; so we have common possessions with Christ and have together one Father and one inheritance, which does not grow less when divided, but whoever has one part of the spiritual inheritance has it all.” Luther. The emphasis is on what thus becomes ours, not, as some have thought, on our work for our Brother. Zinzendorf made the mistake of turning the word of Jesus around, calling him “Brother Jesus” in familiar fashion; the church had tact enough not to follow Zinzendorf in this.

In his message to the disciples Jesus himself makes the marked differences, “my Father and your Father, my God and your God.” Never does he combine himself with the disciples and say, “our Father,” “our God.” “It is one thing when he says my, it is another when Jesus says your; by nature mine, by grace yours. My God, under whom I also am as man, your God, between whom and you I am the Mediator.” Augustine. “He is the Father’s natural Son, born from all eternity, and not an adopted son (Kuehrsohn), and this superiority he has over all others.” Luther. “O blessed relationship between us and Christ, our most wealthy brother, who owns heaven by a double right: once it is his from eternity, and again he has obtained it in time; the former is for his own enjoyment eternally, the latter he presents to his brethren.” Bernhard.

To Mary Jesus gives a higher message than he gave to the women whom he met on their return from the tomb. They were to announce the meeting of Jesus with the disciples in Galilee, she is to tell of the Father, the glorified Master ascending on high, and of all the disciples lifted to his side as brethren. “I am ascending” is the present tense to indicate an act that is near and as certain as though occurring even now. See this tense in 8:14 and 21; 13:33 and 36; 14:4 and 28; 16:5, 10, 16, 17. This tense is frequently used in predictions; it is not merely prophecy but also certainty, R. 870. Jesus speaks of the ascension as his own act, for his human nature now exercises all the divine attributes in which it shared since the incarnation. What a majestic word, “I am ascending”!

What shall we say to the modern critics who misapply this prophetic present tense in order to place the ascension between v. 18 and 19, and thus produce what they call “post-ascension” appearances of Jesus? Thus are manufactured grave conflicts with what these critics call “primitive tradition.”

John 20:18

18 How Jesus ended the interview with Mary we are not told. Comes Mary Magdalene, announcing to the disciples, I have seen the Lord! and that he said these things to her. The two present tenses paint a vivid picture. This is a changed Mary. The fear, the grief, the tears all gone—radiant with superlative joy she sails, like a vessel laden with precious freight, into the place where the disciples are gathered. Just who was there we are not told.

Exultantly she exclaims, “I have seen the Lord!” not dead but living, risen. Then she reports her message. She does not expand on the beautiful emotions, the wonderful feelings she has had but soberly, earnestly reports every word Jesus said to her, especially his message to his brethren, every syllable a treasure, I priceless, heavenly possession. Did the eleven believe? They did not, save for what we know of John (v. 8). The recitative ὅτι is made to do double duty, introducing also the last object clause.

8. Jesus Appears to the Disciples, 19–23

John 20:19

19 Now the situation is the following. Ten of the eleven were together with a number of other disciples. The women who had met the angels and then had seen and heard Jesus early in the morning had brought this news. Peter and John had seen the strange sight in the tomb. Mary Magdalene had seen the angels and Jesus himself and had brought the message from him. What thus occurred in the morning of this wonderful day did not produce faith among the disciples (Luke 24:11 and v. 22, etc.), save the littleness of faith in John’s silent heart (v. 8). then came the appearance of Jesus to Peter (Luke 24:34; 1 Cor. 15:5), of which we know the fact and the effect but no details, not even the hour or the place.

Finally came the report of the two disciples who had gone to Emmaus, Luke 24:35; when these two returned, joyful faith had already spread among all those gathered together. While the two from Emmaus are still speaking (Luke 24:36), Jesus appears to the entire company. Luke 24:36–48 and John 20:19–23 deal with the same event.

It, therefore, being evening, on that day, the first one of the week, and the doors having been locked where the disciples were on account of the fear of the Jews, came Jesus and stood in their midst and says to them, Peace to you! John states the time very fully. From Luke we see that it was late in the evening. “On that day” evidently means “on that most notable day.” John regards the evening as belonging to Sunday. The Jews regarded the evening as the beginning of a new day (Monday), and yet the evening was frequently connected also with the daytime just passed, this the more for Gentile readers whom John had in mind when he wrote in Ephesus at the close of the first century. “On that day” would be enough, yet John adds, “the first one of the week” (on which compare v. 1). Perhaps John is so specific because the church had selected Sunday as its regular day of worship. But, even apart from this consideration, the specification of the day is of importance.

The connective οὗν joins the new paragraph to the one that precedes and shuts out the critical contention that the ascension of Jesus took place, according to the assumed author of this Gospel (never the apostle John, of course), on this Sunday. Where the considerable company of the disciples was gathered we do not know. From Mark we conclude that they had dined together, the meal being finished.

The doors had been locked, and a week later we again find them locked (v. 26) “on account of the fear of the Jews” (7:13; 9:22; 19:38), i.e., the well-known fear inspired by the hostile Jews who had murdered Jesus and had threatened to expel from the synagogue all who confessed Jesus as the Messiah. The plural “doors” does not occur often; we may think of the outer door to the building itself and of the inner door to the room in which the company had gathered. Having these doors locked was a measure of precaution; but here it is mentioned with reference to the appearance of Jesus. In Luke 24:36 only one verb is used (ἔστη); John is more circumstantial, ἦλθεκαὶἔστη, “came and stood,” marking the arrival as well as the standing. Among the strange ideas connected with these words are these: Jesus climbed up a ladder and through a window; or descended from the roof down a stairway; or sneaked into the house before the doors were locked; or slipped in when the two from Emmaus were let in; or was allowed to come in through the connivance of the doorkeeper. All these agree in denying a miracle.

Others make the doors open up of themselves to let Jesus walk in; or they leave them locked while Jesus walks through them as though they were not there; or they have him walk right through the walls of the house and of the room. This is a miracle indeed but conceived in the crudest fashion. Acts 12:10 is useless in this connection, for the body of Peter was not in the same state as that of the risen Savior.

In his risen and glorified state time, space, the rock of the tomb, the walls and the doors of buildings no longer hamper the body of Jesus. He appears where he desires to appear, and his visible presence disappears when he desires to have it so. This is wholly supernatural, wholly incomprehensible to our minds. Nor may we ask or seek to comprehend where Jesus stayed during the intervals between his appearances during the forty days. When our bodies shall eventually enter the heavenly mode of existence, we may know something of these supreme mysteries, but we doubt if even then we shall really comprehend the profundities of the divine omnipresence of which the human nature of Jesus partakes and which he exercised since his vivification in the tomb as in these wondrous appearances. “He came and stood in their midst” is all that human thought and language can say. He did not walk through anything.

The disciples did not see him take so many steps from the door or the wall to their midst. He was there, and that was all. The phrase εἰςτὸμέσον is idiomatic, and the preposition implies no motion, for εἰς is static like ἐν.

The disciples believed that Jesus had risen from the dead, Luke 24:34. But when the living Lord now suddenly stood in the room before their very eyes, the effect was terrifying to them, Luke 24:37, 38, and Jesus is compelled to allay their troubled fears, v. 39–43. The disciples only slowly recognized the powers of the resurrection of Jesus. They were like so many today who seek to apply to the body of the risen Lord some of the notions they associate with bodies in the natural state and with conceptions of spirit beings. These notions still produce all manner of unbelief as regards the bodily resurrection of Jesus. Because the mind is too small and puny to take in the infinitely great it resorts to denial of what lies beyond and above its grasp. Yet even finite nature is full of mysteries too great, too intricate, too profound for the mind ever to grasp and to penetrate; shall we, therefore, come with denials?

The first word is one of greeting, “Peace to you!” But this common form of greeting, meaning only a kindly human wish when spoken by ordinary lips, means infinitely more when spoken by the lips of Jesus. As the person, so the word. When Jesus says “peace” he actually gives what the word says. It is not a lovely-looking package that is empty inside but one that is filled with a heavenly reality far more beautiful than the covering in which it is wrapped. See the full details on this “peace” in 14:27.

John 20:20

20 The peace Jesus gave to the eleven the night in which he was betrayed was genuine indeed. He now renews the gift and reveals its genuineness before the eyes of the entire company of disciples. And having said this, he showed his hands and his side to them. The disciples, therefore, were glad because they saw the Lord. When John connects the showing of the hands and of the side with the greeting of peace, he is not in conflict with Luke 24:37, etc., where the hands, etc., are shown after the greeting of peace in order to convince the disciples that they were not beholding a phantom or spirit. Both purposes in showing the hands, etc., go together.

First, as Luke tells us, the disciples had to be convinced of the identity of Jesus, which the wounds established; secondly, of the reality of his body, which was proved when they handled his body and when he ate before them. But John points out how these actions (which he abbreviates to the showing of the hands and the side) cast their light upon the greeting of peace. Here Jesus shows the disciples the very price at which he bought their peace, his pierced hands, his riven side, the evidence of his death by crucifixion. Luke mentions the feet, John alone the side. Jesus shows these parts of his body, not because they are naturally the exposed parts, for as such they are seen by the disciples without being shown. He shows them, as v. 27 also indicates, because they have the wounds made by the nails and the spear.

These holy wounds proclaim that God is at peace with us. They are the seals which attest this objective peace. The peace thus pronounced upon the disciples by Jesus is an absolution. They had fled when Jesus was betrayed, they had given up their faith, but, “Peace to you!” extended by these pierced hands and this pierced heart, takes all their guilt away.

Some seem to be afraid that the body of Jesus permanently retained the gaping wounds made at his crucifixion, and so they assure us that these wounds were not permanent; others turn them into stigmata, marks indicating where the wounds had been. It is best not to pronounce on matters unknown to us. If Jesus wished to retain his wounds he certainly could do so, and they certainly would always appear as the evidence in his very body of his glorious work of redemption. But the idea is farfetched that Jesus speaks only of his flesh and his bones (Luke 24:39) not of his blood, because the circulation of the blood could less easily be felt, and because what was in his veins might be something else than blood.

The disciples were glad because they saw the Lord (14:28; 16:22). The participle ἰδόντες is causal, R. 1128, not temporal. “The Lord” is significant in this statement of cause, for it indicates what they saw in the risen Jesus: their heavenly, divine Lord. Not that all doubt was so quickly overcome and at once completely eradicated. Jesus appeared again and again, intensifying faith and joy, until nothing could ever disturb the solid certainty.

John 20:21

21 Jesus, therefore, said to them again, Peace to you! As the Father has commissioned me, I, too, am sending you. These and the following words of Jesus, while they are distinct from those reported at greater length by Luke, harmonize with them most perfectly. Compare with this first word that of Luke 24:48. “Peace to you!” is only in form a repetition of the first greeting. It cannot be regarded as a farewell greeting, for then it would be placed at the end of v. 23. This second gift and assurance of peace forms the basis of the commission now bestowed, the fundamentum missionis ministrorum evangelii.

This peace is not merely to fortify the hearts of the disciples amid all the enmity and hatred of the world; they are to be possessors of the Lord’s peace because as his witnesses and messengers they are to dispense this very gift of peace in a peaceless world. The sum of the gospel is “peace” (Eph. 2:17), and it is called “the gospel of peace” (Eph. 6:15), in fact, Jesus himself is “our peace,” and all who preach must bring the word sent by God, “preaching peace by Jesus Christ” (Acts 10:36). Those who are to bring peace must have peace.

The first gift of peace does not include all the disciples present, and the second gift only the apostles in the company, though including the absent Thomas. This is an incorrect view of the office established by Jesus. The commission to bring the gospel of peace and salvation to the world belongs to the entire church (Eph. 4:11; 1 Cor. 12:1–31; Matt. 28:18–20). With this great commission Jesus gave the office of the ministry to the church as his own arrangement for the continuous public work of the gospel administration. Jesus himself selected and appointed the apostles, because their work was unique in that the apostolic Word was to form the foundation of the church for all time (Eph. 2:20). All other preachers the church herself was to select and call. Thus Jesus works in the world through the church as a whole with its public work committed to the Christian ministry by Jesus through the church.

In this sense Jesus says, “As the Father has commissioned me, I, too, am sending you.” It will not do to refer “you” only to the eleven; it necessarily includes all the believers present. In the words following the gift of the Spirit is intended for all (vide Pentecost), and the power to remit and to retain sins belongs to the church. The part the eleven were to have in all this, and after them the called ministry of the church, causes no difficulty. This special part Jesus had already begun to arrange as far as the apostles were concerned and would further arrange when the time came through the apostles under the guidance of the Spirit. Even the regular membership of the church would be equipped with different gifts, each member taking his place and doing his part. As the Father sent Jesus, so Jesus now sends all his believers, i.e., his church not merely the eleven.

In this sending each member has his place, and Jesus himself marked that of the eleven. It is essential to note the emphasis on the two subjects, which are, therefore, placed side by side: καθὼς … ὁπατήρ, κἀγώ, “just as the Father … I, too.” The redemptive mission of Jesus is now finished; this is the sense of the extensive perfect “has sent me,” denoting an act now complete (R. 895). Now begins the gospel, the evangelizing mission on the part of all of the disciples of Jesus. The present tense, “I am sending,” does not mean that now this work is at once to begin; as so often, the present denotes an act in progress. So Jesus was sent when he came into the world, but his main work began when he was thirty years old. In a few days the actual evangelizing work of the church and the part the eleven had in it would begin.

As to the eleven, they had known for a long time that this would be their work (4:38; 13:16; 15:16; 17:18). Yet Jesus now rightly tells his disciples of this their sending. Heretofore his own work was not finished, and his death made it appear as though all had been in vain; now risen from the dead and glorified, he tells the disciples that their work will, indeed, go on. While Jesus uses two verbs, ἀπέσταλκε and πέμπω, the sense is quite the same, although the latter seems to be more general. In the fulness of his divine authority and power Jesus says, “And I on my part send you.”

John 20:22

22 And having said this, he breathed on them and says to them, Receive the Holy Spirit. As in v. 20, the participial phrase, “having said this,” connects the new act with the preceding word. He who sends enables those whom he sends; and the enabling is the gift of the Holy Spirit. The dative αὑτοῖς is to be construed with both verbs and includes all those present at this time. The idea that the gift of the Spirit is necessary only for those called to a special office in the church, or only for the apostles, is a decided mistake. Why is it necessary to make a miraculous act of this breathing upon by saying that the breath of an ordinary person, blown out, would reach only one individual in line with that breath, while the breath of Jesus reached all the disciples present in the room?

The breath of Jesus was, indeed, no mere symbol of the Spirit, nor was the act of breathing a mere symbolical act that only represented bestowal. While both the Hebrew ruach and the Greek pneuma mean “breath,” and to expel the breath thus naturally symbolizes the Spirit even as the water in Baptism is a symbol of cleansing, and the bread and the wine in the Lord’s Supper are symbols of heavenly food, yet in both of these sacraments, in this act of breathing by Jesus, whatever may be considered a symbol becomes at the same time an actual means of bestowal. The chosen means accords with the purpose for which it is used, with the gift it imparts. It is this accord and fitness which makes it seem like a symbol; but therefore to reduce it to a symbol is to cling to the shell of appearance and to overlook the blessed reality which is the essential. Both the preceding word, “I myself also send you,” and the following word, “receive,” shut out the use of a symbol and demand that for the sending and for the receiving an actual means be employed. And this need not be a breath of such astounding volume as to be felt by the faces of those present.

Physical size and volume is not needed for the bestowal of divine gifts. The breathing of Jesus indicates that the Spirit comes from him. The Spirit who is “breath” comes by the breath of Jesus. It is the source that is essential and the means employed by that source.

The aorist λάβετε is decidedly punctiliar and denotes reception then and there and not a process of reception that is to go on and on. This imperative imparts a gift, namely by placing the gift into the hearts of the recipients. This, of course, is not the first reception of the Spirit on the part of these disciples; all of them were disciples, i.e., believers, in whom the Spirit had wrought faith. So this new bestowal of the Spirit was the reception of a welcome gift. It is a misconception to think that the bestowal was dependent on “an act” of faith on the part of each disciple. The bestowal itself wrought the reception.

The verbal form λάβετε must not be pressed in a wrong way. The eye receives the sun’s ray in an effortless way when that ray falls into the eye; the ear receives the sound without an act of its own when the sound reaches the ear. So these hearts received the Spirit when Jesus now gave them the Spirit.

It ought to be settled, already linguistically, that, whether we have Πνεῦμα and Πνεῦμαἅγιον with or without the article, the sense is absolutely the same just as this is the case with Θεός and Κύριος. In the present instance the article is absent just as it is in 1:33; 7:39; Acts 1:2 and 5, and in many other instances. It is wasted effort to seek a special meaning for Πνεῦμαὅγιον because here the article is absent; no such meaning exists. Those who think of something halfway between the Word of Jesus, on the one hand, and the Third Person of the Godhead, on the other hand, pursue a chimera, one to which they themselves are unable to give a name. But if Jesus here actually bestows the Holy Spirit on his disciples, does this not clash with Pentecost? The modern critics still expect us to accept the old hypothesis of Bauer that John “telescopes” the resurrection, ascension, and Pentecost, i.e., that he runs them together, the resurrection in v. 1–18, the ascension (assumed, of course,) between v. 18, 19, and Pentecost in v. 19–23. Thus Jesus ascended to heaven on Easter Sunday and on Easter Sunday evening” gave the Pentecostal Spirit.

No difficulty exists between the present gift of the Spirit and that given fifty days later on Pentecost, We do not need Bengel’s solution that Jesus here gives only the arrha or earnest of the Spirit. This idea rests on the old misinterpretation of 3:34, coupled at times with a wrong view of 7:39; see the exposition of these passages. If this earnest is something other than the Spirit himself, how can Jesus say, “Receive the Spirit”? If this earnest is only a part of the Spirit, “a measure,” as some say, is, then, the Spirit cut into sections, or is he divided like liquid? And even then, why does Jesus say, “Receive the Spirit”? Let us understand once for all that any and every reception of the Spirit means that the Spirit himself, the entire and undivided Third Person of the Trinity, is received.

We can no more split up the Spirit than we can split up the Father or the Son. Throughout the Old Testament the Spirit was thus received. In 2 Sam. 23:2 David speaks “by the Spirit,” not by an earnest or by a measure of the Spirit. In the Old Testament every believer and not only the inspired prophets had the actual and undivided Spirit in his heart. All the differences that appear in the Scriptures regarding the Spirit are due, first, to the economy of the kingdom of God and, secondly, to the spiritual condition of individuals. At each stage of the kingdom the Spirit wrought according to that stage; Abraham cannot be exchanged with David or with Isaiah, nor the Baptist with St.

John or with St. Paul. The work outlined in 14:26 had to wait until the proper time came. Nor are the Spirit’s instruments, the individuals, in the different stages of the kingdom alike. 1 Cor. 12:12, etc., certainly makes this plain.

So it is this Easter evening when Jesus gives the Spirit to these disciples of his. They all received the Spirit for him to work in them personally, for him to implant in them the revelation Jesus here communicated to them and reported in Luke 24:44–48. This was still a preliminary stage, not yet the final one of Pentecost, the climax of all the stages that preceded. Not yet could the disciples “receive power” in the sense of Acts 1:8. That would come at Pentecost and after (Acts 10:44, etc.; 15:8, 9). Hence also the differences in the bestowal of the Spirit.

On this evening Jesus breathed upon the disciples and spoke as Luke and John record; at Pentecost the signs and the mode of bestowal were of a grander type. Yet the differences appear even at Pentecost, for 120 were present, yet not all preached as Peter did, and not all healed as Peter and John did (Acts 3:7). Nor need the fact disturb us that those who already have the Spirit are said to receive him anew. Once he comes with one gift and one purpose, then he comes with other gifts and a greater purpose. On Easter evening he came to implant what Jesus revealed in Luke 24:44, etc., but at Pentecost he came to send the gospel into all the world in all the languages of men. On Easter evening none were added to the kingdom, on Pentecost 3, 000 souls were ushered into it.

John 20:23

23 The gift of the Spirit as here made by Jesus is to enable the disciples to exercise the right, authority, and power with which he now clothes them in their sending. If of any you dismiss the sins, they are dismissed; if of any you hold the sins, they have been held. Both conditional clauses are clauses of expectancy. The functions here described go naturally with the sending or commission bestowed upon the disciples by Jesus and with the endowment of the Spirit which he has added. In fact, these two functions form the two supreme acts for which the disciples are sent and equipped. Through the disciples as his church on earth Jesus wants the remission of sins dispensed to sinners, excluding only those who refuse remission.

The contention that this word of Jesus’ appears as a novelty in John’s Gospel, that up to this point we have heard nothing about the remission and the retention of sins, is untenable. All that is new is the use of the verbs “to dismiss” and “to hold.” We have read much about “having life eternal” and “not having life” or “perishing” from 3:15 onward, and no man has life without being rid of his sins. The same is true in 1:12, regarding the “power to become the sons of God.” Compare 5:24, and in particular 8:21 and 24, “dying in your sins,” and 9:41, “your sin remains.” In fact, the entire gospel is full of the fundamental truth of divine grace and forgiveness and of the reception of this grace by faith. All this is now concentrated and brought to a focus in two weighty statements by which Jesus bestows upon his disciples the great power he has so far exercised himself. They are now to act in his stead, and he will act through them.

The verbs are highly significant: ἀφιέναιτὰςἁμαρτίας = to dismiss, to send away the sins, from which we have ἅφεσις, the sending away of sins. The sins are removed from the sinner, and this completely, as far as the east is from the west (Ps. 103:12), into the depths of the sea (Mic. 7:19), blotting out the transgressions so that the Lord himself will not remember them (Isa. 43:25). The English words “to forgive” and “forgiveness” are too indefinite and must be vitalized from the Greek. The opposite is κρατεῖν, “to hold fast with strength,” “to retain.” The sins are held fast upon the sinner, fixed upon him so that he cannot escape from them now or ever. Judgment finds him thus, and he is doomed. The moment a sin is committed that sin with all its guilt adheres to the sinner, and no human effort can possibly free him.

He may think he has freed himself in some way, but he is mistaken; he is held. Only one person is able to remove that sin, so remove it as though it had never existed (1 John 1:7).

While the readings vary somewhat, we may take it that the present ἀφίενται and the perfect κεκράτηνται are correct. The two functions are not identical. In both of the cases the sins have been committed, and the respective sinners appear with their sins and their guilt. In the one case this wonderful thing is done: the disciples remove the sins as though they had never been committed: “they are dismissed,” namely by the disciples’ act of dismissal. Jesus says so. Hence this act counts for him. “This is as valid and certain, also in heaven, as if Christ, our dear Lord, had dealt with us himself.” Luther.

In the other case the sins are held by the disciples. This is no mere litotes, meaning only that the sins are not dismissed. The act is positive, the sins are held fast and fixed upon the sinner. He may do what he will, they are upon him, and he must face Christ with them. But now Jesus uses the perfect tense, “they have been held.” This means: from the start, from the moment of their commission onward. Jesus has already held them, the disciples join Jesus in this, add their verdict to his, and so for all time to come (this is the force of the intensive perfect, R. 894, etc.,) they continue to be held.

Luther’s word applies also here.

Jesus here bestows on his disciples what has aptly been called “the Power of the Keys,” Matt. 16:19; 18:17–20. It is true, God alone can forgive sins, Mark 2:7. Nor has God (Christ) abrogated this power of his or turned it over to the disciples (the church). It is still Jesus who dismisses and who holds sins, yet by his act which empowers the disciples he makes them his agents—he acts through them. They are thus also by their very commission bound to dismiss and to hold sins only in accord with the will of Jesus. They can dismiss, yea, must dismiss, the sins of all those who repent and believe; they cannot and dare not do otherwise.

To attempt to do so is to forfeit their commission and their power. They can, yea, must hold the sins of all the impenitent and unbelieving; they cannot dismiss them unless they would lose their authorization. All this does not mean that Jesus enables the church to look into men’s hearts with direct and infallible vision and thus to expose also all hypocrites. The disciples deal with the confession of sinners, their confession of lip and life, and pronounce accordingly. This they do, and every sinner they deal with is to know that they do this in conjunction with Jesus, hence always conditional on his infallible finding. The effort has frequently been made to reduce the authorization Jesus here gives to a mere general announcement that Jesus forgives the penitent and holds the guilt of the impenitent, much like the general gospel proclamation.

But this view alters the words, “you dismiss,” “you hold.” It also alters the two τινῶν, “of any,” “of any,” which indicate two distinct classes. This view also misconceives the function of the disciples (church), which is to do more than to preach, teach, and make known the contents of the gospel in the world of men; they are also personally and directly to deal with individual souls. Compare 1 Cor. 5:3–5 and 12; James 5:15 and 20; 1 John 5:16.

In this entire section (v. 19–23) Jesus deals with all the disciples present (Luke 24:33) not with the ten only. This makes it impossible to restrict the power bestowed in v. 21–23 to the apostles and the ministry. It is Luther who brought back to the consciousness of the church the divine right bestowed upon all her members by Jesus. “This power now is here given to all Christians, i.e., to him who is a Christian. But who is a Christian? He who believes has the Holy Spirit. Therefore every Christian has the power, which the pope, bishops, etc., have in this case, to retain or to remit sins.

Do I hear, then, that I may hear confession, baptize, preach, give the Sacrament? No! St. Paul says, ‘Let everything be done decently and in order,’ 1 Cor. 14:40. We, indeed, all have this power; but no one is to make bold to exercise it publicly except he be chosen thereto by the congregation. Privately, however, he may well use it.

As when my neighbor comes and says, ‘Friend, I am distressed in my conscience, say an absolution to me’; then a may freely do this, preach the gospel to him and tell him how he is to appropriate the works of Christ and is firmly to believe Christ’s righteousness is his, and his sins are Christ’s. This is the greatest service I may render to my neigbor! Who can fully set forth what an unspeakable, mighty, and blessed consolation this is, that with one word one man may unlock heaven and lock hell for another!”

9. Doubting Thomas Convinced, 24–29

John 20:24

24 But Thomas, one of the Twelve, called Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came. The reason why the appearance here recorded is not listed by Paul in 1 Cor. 15:4, etc., is evidently because the appearance on Easter evening and this appearance eight days later are counted as one. This second appearance occurs entirely on account of Thomas as the narrative shows. The work Jesus began on Easter evening he now completes. In v. 19 John wrote “the disciples,” and Luke 24:33 mentions the fact that others besides the eleven were present. Now we learn of one notable absentee—Thomas.

When John adds “one of the Twelve,” this recalls 6:71 and the way in which each of the synoptists refers to Judas as “one of the Twelve.” Thomas should by no means have been absent when not only all the rest of the eleven were together but also other disciples with them. “One of the Twelve” is hint enough why Thomas was absent; it was because of his obstinate refusal to believe. After this is fixed, it makes little difference how we imagine his absence, whether we think that he stayed away altogether, or that he was present, became disgusted with the talk about the resurrection, and then left. He succeeded in one thing only: in keeping himself wretchedly miserable in his unbelief for another entire week. To think that “one of the Twelve” could do such a thing as this!

Because John here adds the Greek name of Thomas: “Didymus,” which like “Thomas” means “Twin,” some suppose that John intends to mark the character of this disciple as a man divided, as one who always doubts. But what about 21:2—is he here too to be branded as a doubter? And what about 14:5 where John writes only “Thomas”? See 11:16. “One of the Twelve” suggests the blame resting on Thomas, no more is needed. Thomas was known by two names, one Hebrew, the other Greek, the latter probably being in later times used quite generally amid Gentile surroundings; hence also John alone has preserved this second name, writing, as he did, at a late date.

John 20:25

25 The other disciples, therefore, were saying to him, We have seen the Lord. But he said to them, Unless a see in his hands the mark of the nails, and thrust my finger into the place of the nails, and thrust my hand into his side, I shall in no wise believe. “The other disciples” are not merely the ten associates of Thomas but together with these the rest who had seen Jesus. The imperfect ἔλεγον means that they kept laboring to convince Thomas. They were thus beginning to act as Jesus’ witnesses, beginning the work of evangelizing and making the start in the right place, with the unbeliever in their midst. They had caught something of the mind of Jesus. But all their solicitous efforts proved in vain.

John evidently summarizes when he writes, “We have seen the Lord.” Thomas was made to listen to the entire story with all its details, that of the women and of Mary Magdalene, that of Peter and of John who had seen the tomb, that of Peter in particular (Luke 24:34; 1 Cor. 15:5), that of the two Emmaus disciples, and that of the entire company behind the locked doors. The sum and substance of it all was: “We have seen the Lord,” now using this title “Lord” in an eminent sense. The perfect is used and not the mere aorist, because more is to be conveyed than the mere fact, namely the fact plus its present and continuing effect. “We have seen,” and the sight remains with us in all its blessed significance.

Unbelief always was and always will be unreasonable. This is glaringly plain in the case of Thomas. For him all this unanimous testimony of all these people, whose character for veracity he knew so Well, amounts to nothing. The fact that all of them, like himself, had never dreamed of Jesus’ resurrection, had thought it impossible, and had then been convinced from this unbelief by overwhelming evidence, affects Thomas in an opposite way: he determines to set himself against them all. The more they speak to him and the more they present the facts, the more stubborn Thomas becomes. He has been called “doubting Thomas,” but he does not doubt, he is openly unbelieving.

He challenges the evidence the others present. They have only seen—seeing does not count. If he is to believe he demands two lines of evidence, seeing plus feeling with his own finger and his own hand. And even the feeling must be twofold, that of the holes in Jesus’ hands and that of the gash in his side. Thomas demands what he deems a real test. What the other disciples claim to have is not nearly enough for him.

Here the silliness of unbelief comes to view. If sight can be deceived, sight which takes in so much, what assurance has Thomas that feeling, which takes in far less, will not also be deceived?

The disciples had seen Jesus, but think of the wonder of that sight! Recall Luke 24:30, 31 and 35; John 19:19, the locked doors; v. 20, his hands and his side; Luke 24:39, “handle me and see”; v. 41–43, he ate fish and honeycomb. This was seeing indeed. Some had held his feet in worship (Matt. 28:9); Mary Magdalene had clung to him (John 20:17); they all had also heard him speak. Here is the pride, haughtiness, and arrogance of unbelief: it sets up a criterion of its own. It will have what it demands.

The unbeliever makes himself a superior person, looking down on believers as credulous fools who cannot be trusted. The wisdom of the unbeliever exceeds that of all other men. Thomas is surely typical of the entire class. But all this action of unbelief reveals that, while it pretends to obey reason and genuine intelligence alone, it does nothing of the kind. It is actuated by an unreasoning and unreasonable will, I secret, stubborn determination, unacknowledged by the unbeliever himself, not to believe (7:17).

John first writes τὸντύποντῶνἥλων, “the marks of the nails,” i.e., the great holes made by them; secondly, τὸντόποντῶνἥλιων, “the place of the holes” (this is the correct reading), i.e., the place they occupied. Thomas does not mention the holes in the feet. He is generous; he will be satisfied with the hands. Those are hasty who conclude that the feet of Jesus were only bound with ropes and not fastened to the cross. The aorist subjunctives ἴδω and βάλω designate single acts. But Thomas will investigate the gash in Jesus’ side.

Though ordinarily the garment would cover the side, Thomas will demand that Jesus do what the disciples claim he did: show his side (v. 20) and then he will make sure, not by gently touching the mortal gash with his finger, but by running his hand into the opening. Generally unbelief does not care how gross and coarse its talk is. One of its characteristics is that it loves to shock believers. Here again Thomas acts true to type. This is the way in which he would treat “the Lord.” With the subjunctive or a future indicative οὑμή is the strongest form of negative: “in no way,” or, “not at all.”

John 20:26

26 The week went on, and nothing happened—no new appearances of Jesus, no change for the better in Thomas. And after eight days his disciples were again inside and Thomas with them. Comes Jesus, the doors having been locked, and stood in their midst and said, Peace to you. Since in all such counts the final day is included, the time is again Sunday. Why Jesus waited an entire week has often been asked, but the answers given do not satisfy. Was it to punish Thomas by the delay; or was it to let the continued testimony of the disciples have its full effect on Thomas; or was it to test the faith of the disciples by the persistent unbelief of Thomas?

All we can say is that the Lord chooses his own time and generally does not let us know the reason for his choice. The impression made by John’s narrative is that the present meeting of the disciples is the exact counterpart of the meeting on Easter evening, save that now Thomas is present and that Jesus deals with him. The disciples are again inside a building with the doors locked, just as a week ago. No need to repeat that it was evening, or that the locking was done for fear of the Jews. Some are opposed to the latter idea and maintain that now the fear of the Jews had left them, and that the disciples had locked themselves in only for the sake of privacy. But the parallel with v. 19 is too evident.

The courage of the disciples did not grow so rapidly.

It is saying too much to have this assembly of the disciples actually expecting another appearance of Jesus, and actually expecting one because it was again Sunday evening. This exaltation of Sunday is placed far too early. All we can safely say is that the resurrection of Jesus had the effect of reuniting the disciples after his crucifixion had scattered them. The bond of their living Lord drew them together once more. We are not averse to thinking that they had been together already on the previous day. Whether this was the first time Thomas was again in their midst we are not told.

Generally the question is not even asked as to how he came to be in his place on this evening. A few imagine that he had begun to weaken in his unbelief, but no hint of this kind comes from John but rather the contrary. For Jesus does not ask Thomas: “Dost thou still want to thrust thy finger into the marks of the nails in my hands, and thrust thy hand into my side?” What Jesus bids Thomas do is exactly what he had insisted on at the beginning. Yet somehow Thomas is present. We are left to think that the old association drew him back into the circle. Where else should he go?

The others surely invited him to be with them. Whether they hoped that Jesus would do something in his case is problematical. They may have remembered 17:12 as an assurance that Thomas would not be lost in spite of his present unbelief; but again they had not shown themselves good at remembering more important words of Jesus, so we can venture nothing certain regarding this word.

It has been positively asserted that at the close of the Passover week, thus on the preceding Friday, the disciples left Jerusalem for Galilee; and the reason assigned is that they had nothing more to hold them in Jerusalem, and that they had been told to meet Jesus in Galilee (Matt. 26:32; 28:7 and 10; Mark 14:28; 16:7). We are told that we must imagine that the disciples were in some town in Galilee. But John says nothing about Galilee until 21:1; πάλινἦσανἔσω, “again were they inside,” reads exactly as though they were again in the same house and in the same room where they had been the week before. As far as making the start for Galilee is concerned, the safest view is that the disciples awaited specific directions from the Lord. That they waited in Jerusalem as long as they did merely on account of Thomas and his unbelief is altogether too doubtful. We take it that in all things they again felt themselves under the guidance of their Lord.

From the way in which the genitive absolute, “the doors having been locked” (the same outer and inner doors as in v. 19), is placed, we see that the mention of this fact, while it does not exclude the fear of the Jews as the reason for the locking, is intended to inform us that the situation is an exact duplicate of the one sketched in v. 19, and that Jesus appears once more exactly as he did a week ago, suddenly standing in the midst of his disciples. This, too, is duplicated, that he again greets them all with, “Peace to you!” on which see v. 19. But now he at once turns to Thomas, for this appearance is for his sake. That, however, gives a special meaning to the greeting as far as Thomas is concerned. Jesus has not come to upbraid him. It breathes forgiveness for this disciple’s sin.

The divine love of Jesus reaches out to gather Thomas, too, into the peace of the safety and the assurance which the other disciples already had. The tremendous impression already made upon Thomas by this miraculous appearance of his glorified Lord is deepened with blessed significance by this greeting of love from Jesus’ lips.

John 20:27

27 Thereupon he says to Thomas, Bring thy finger here and see my hands; and bring thy hand and thrust it into my side: and be not unbelieving but believing. It is Thomas for whose sake Jesus has come; yet what transpires between Jesus and Thomas is for all to hear and to see. The three statements of Jesus correspond exactly to the three that Thomas had made in v. 25, in part even verbally. Jesus speaks to Thomas as though he himself had heard every word Thomas had uttered when making his demands. This alone must have overwhelmed Thomas and must have struck deeply into his conscience. Think what his divine Lord does: he meets the outrageous demands of this disciple, meets them to the letter.

He lets this disciple set up the demands, and he, his Lord, accedes to them. We may well marvel at such astounding condescension. Yet the reason for this action of Jesus’ is fully warranted. He is offering to all these disciples πολλὰτεκμήρια, “many infallible proofs” (M.-M., 628, call this a strong word, equal to “demonstrative evidence”) of his resurrection, Acts 1:3, by no means for their personal faith only, which might have been won with far less, but as the foundation for the faith of the church of all future ages. They were made “witnesses” of his resurrection (Acts 2:32; 3:15) in the fullest possible sense of the word, “witnesses” whose testimony was to stand as being unassailable in all future ages. We may blame Thomas personally as much as we will.

Jesus knew that Thomas would have many successors in all ages. Hence, if Thomas, “one of the Twelve,” had been left with any justification, however flimsy, even for any degree of doubt as regards the resurrection of Jesus, the effect would have been bad for all time to come. By thus dealing as he does with Thomas, meeting him on Thomas’ own ground, he is dealing with all doubt and disbelief in his resurrection in all time to come, closing the mouth of every disbeliever in all future time. We thus really have reason to thank this disbelieving disciple for what the Lord did with his disbelief, converting it into the completest faith.

The two present imperatives φέρε are perfectly in place, “be bringing,” for they are preliminary and thus circumstantial to the essential actions for which the peremptory aorists are used, ἴδε and βάλε. Then follows the durative present γίνου, “be,” or “show yourself to be,” namely as the result of these aorists. Jesus must have extended his hands to Thomas, then also exposing and turning toward him his side. Jesus mentions seeing only once, just as Thomas had done, but in the second place, whereas Thomas has it in the first place. Thomas would verify what his eyes tell him by the thrust of his finger; Jesus bids him at once to apply his finger and thus to see. If the chief proof is to be the thrust of the finger, Thomas is at once to apply his finger.

We cannot translate γίνου “become,” as some do; for Thomas is not to grow into a believer by a gradual process. If becoming is the sense, it would have to be a becoming forthwith, and the imperative would have to be the aorist. Here, as so often in its use with adjectives and nouns, this present imperative means simply, “be” or “show thyself, prove thyself.” Thomas is from now on to show himself as not being unbelieving but as believing. Only if we had the negative alone would the translation be in place, “stop showing thyself unbelieving”; the addition, “but believing,” shuts this out. The two adjectives ἄπιστος and πιστός are direct opposites; Jesus uses them because Thomas had said, οὑμὴπιστεύσω. This word of Jesus’ is simply an admonition not a rebuke.

By placing the negative and the positive together, “do not show thyself unbelieving but believing,” the admonition is made emphatic.

John 20:28

28 Thomas answered and said to him, My Lord and my God! A division of views meets us at this point. Some feel certain that Thomas simply sank to his knees and uttered the exclamation which John reports. The appearance of Jesus, together with the omniscience he displayed regarding the demands Thomas had made, conquered him completely. Those who think thus say that they cannot imagine that Thomas placed his finger and his hand into the wounds of Jesus as Jesus had ordered him to do. If he did so, they feel certain that John would have told us so, in fact, he should have told us.

They also point to the text, according to which the answer of Thomas seems at once to follow. Others, however, hold the opposite view. The decision of the former is greatly facilitated when the view of the latter is conceived to be that Thomas is made to feel the hands and the side of Jesus in order to carry out his demands and thus actually to satisfy himself that this was Jesus as the other disciples had said. This, indeed, is unthinkable. If the decision were between this view and its opposite, that Thomas did no such thing, we could not do otherwise than to accept the latter.

But the situation does not turn on such an alternative. The decisive factor is the command of Jesus. It is couched in two peremptory imperatives. It is not Thomas who deliberately does what he said he would have to do before he believed; it is Jesus who now demands that he do this very thing. Those aorist imperatives compel Thomas to do what he now would gladly not do. These two imperatives tell us that Thomas did what he was thus commanded to do.

John does not need to add another word. By compelling Thomas to use his finger and his hand as bidden Jesus is not punishing him. Far from it. A week ago he had commanded the other disciples in the same way: “Handle me and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have,” Luke 24:39. That the disciples had, indeed, handled Jesus as these two aorist imperatives in Luke plainly imply is evidenced by 1 John 1:1, “and our hands have handled of the Word of life.” That which Jesus considered vital for the other disciples in order to make them “witnesses” in the fullest sense he certainly would not now allow Thomas to fail to do. He was now made a witness to the same extent as the others.

Jesus looked far ahead in this insistence with regard to Thomas. For Thomas himself all future doubt and unbelief was made impossible. The thought was never to enter his mind that after all he had not handled Jesus as he had intended to do, and that possibly after all he had been tricked by a spirit. And for the future of the church Thomas, like the rest, was to be able to testify in words like those of John, “and our hands have handled” this risen Lord. We know regarding John that faith had entered his heart, though silently, on Easter morning (v. 8), and yet John had handled and felt the flesh and the bones of Jesus. How could Jesus possibly have allowed Thomas, “one of the Twelve” (v. 24), to do less ?

On the force of “answered and said” compare 1:48. Because the older rationalists reduce the reply of Thomas to an ordinary exclamation of astonishment as when one cries out involuntarily, “My God!” we need not disturb ourselves about the grammar by stressing the nominative forms as shutting out this notion. It is already shut out by the preamble that Thomas “answered and said to him.” ὉΚύριόςμουκαὶὁΘεόςμου, although they are nominative in form, are vocatives in force, being addressed to Jesus as exclamations, with nothing whatever to supply. We may indeed say that the exclamation has the sense, “Thou art my Lord and my God,” but not that we must supply “thou art.” Compare the interesting discussioon between Robertson, Winer, and Abbott in R. 466. The different views regarding the grammar are generally due to the reluctance of admitting that Thomas here unequivocally acknowledges Jesus as ὁΘεός. R. 462 must stand: Thomas “gave Christ full acceptance of his deity and of the fact of his resurrection.” What this involves as coming from a man who had been reared a Jew with the Jewish conception of God is self-evident.

We may compare Nathanael’s confession in 1:49. He said “the Son of God,” and Thomas “my God,” but both are to be understood in the same sense. On the knowledge of the Trinity as derived from the Old Testament by the Jews compare the discussion in 1:32 and 49. The two articles and the two possessives “my” make each of the two designations stand out independently. It is often said that the second forms a climax to the first, i.e., that “my God” expresses more than “my Lord.” We fear that this view results from stressing the Greek, in which the title κύριος is often used with reference to men (see v. 15, the gardener), so that the question always arises as to how much this title is intended to convey. Thomas, however, in reality spoke Aramaic, and even if he had used Greek, to him “my Lord” here includes deity as fully as does “my God.” The duplication is not intended to add to a lesser term one that is greater but to express the one conviction of Thomas in the most emphatic way.

The two possessives “my” flow in almost automatically as the natural expressions of faith. Thus in v. 13 Mary still said, “my Lord.”

John 20:29

29 Indeed, Thomas thus obeyed the Lord’s admonition, “Show thyself as believing!” Whether Thomas sank to his knees or prostrated himself on the ground before Jesus, we do not know; many think he did the latter. Jesus says to him, Because thou hast seen me thou hast believed. Blessed they who did not see and did believe. Jesus accepts the exclamation with which Thomas acknowledges him as his Lord and his God. Too much stress cannot be laid on this simple fact. In the face of 20:24, 25 a view such as that Thomas has in mind one thing, while the acceptance of Jesus has another in mind, is unwarranted. He who knew the very words of Thomas uttered in v. 25 knew the very thought of Thomas when he cried, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus in no way modifies this exclamation; he corrects it neither downward as though Thomas says or means too much, nor upward as though Thomas says or means too little.

It has long been understood that John’s Gospel closes just as it began by proclaiming the deity of Jesus. “And the Word was God,” 1:1, has its counterpart in the confession of Thomas, “My God!” and in the concluding word of John in v. 31. It was granted to Thomas to make the final grand confession recorded by John. This disciple’s character, especially also the psychology back of his sudden turn from the most bold and pronounced unbelief to the most decisive faith, will always remain highly interesting. He illustrates the fact that at times extremes do certainly meet. The brazen front of much unbelief is hollow after all, and when it caves in it caves in completely.

Jesus accepts the faith and the confession of Thomas for he himself says, “thou hast believed.” But he accepts this faith only as what it is: “because thou hast seen thou hast believed.” The perfects are extensive, the culmination point having just been reached, R. 95. Jesus does not praise the faith of Thomas as he does the faith mentioned in Matt. 15:28, or in Matt. 8:10. He does not answer Thomas as he does Peter in Matt. 16:17. We may note the parallel to Nathanael in 1:50, who also came to faith as the result of a wondrous revelation of Jesus: “Because I said unto thee I saw thee underneath the fig tree thou believest.” As little as we had reason to make this a question directed to Nathanael, so little have we reason to assume that a question was directed to Thomas. The perfect tenses shut this out even more than the present used with reference to Nathanael. Jesus simply acknowledges the fact that Thomas has come to faith.

But the acknowledgment in the case of Nathanael is coupled with a wonderful promise to Nathanael, not so the acknowledgment in the case of Thomas. Here the promise is to others, to those who shall believe without first seeing. This difference is due to the difference between the two men. Nathanael’s was his first meeting with Jesus at the very beginning of his ministry, while Thomas had followed Jesus for three years to the very end of his ministry. Is Jesus, then, reproaching Thomas when he here acknowledges his faith? Does he intend to say, “Without seeing thou shouldest have believed”?

We shall hesitate to assume such blame when we note that the faith of all the disciples present was the outcome of sight, even that of John (v. 8). We shall again hesitate when we realize that Jesus himself intended to furnish the fullest sight to these disciples in order to equip them as his witnesses to the church of all future ages. The fault of Thomas was not the fact that his faith sprang from sight, but that he spurned the sight of others and demanded even more than sight for himself, something that set him apart from and above all the others. Here lay his fault, and Jesus, having pardoned him, makes no reference to the fault.

The first word, “Because thou hast seen thou hast believed,” is only the preamble to the vital statement that follows. It was necessary for Jesus to grant sight to these disciples of his during these forty days after his resurrection. In the same way it had been necessary for him to perform many miracles during his entire ministry. This necessity would continue for the work of the apostles and for the early days of the existence of the church. Sight had its necessary place in the economy of grace which wrought out our salvation and founded the church. But the disciples were not to think that in all future ages Jesus would use sight in this way.

Even in their own future work sight will play only a minor part. So after the preamble Jesus adds the main statement, “Blessed they who did not see and did believe,” καί, as so often in the sense, “and yet did believe.” The two aorist participles are by no means to be understood in the sense of future perfects: “shall not have seen and yet shall have believed.” They are timeless, R. 859. Whoever at any time, past, present, or future, believes without seeing is pronounced “blessed” in the soteriological sense.

The sight granted to the disciples then has a special significance and purpose. A certain blessedness, indeed, accompanies also this, Matt. 13:16, namely as restricted to this significance and purpose. But where this no longer applies, 1 Pet. 1:8 is the normal way: “Whom having not seen, ye love; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory.” 2 Cor. 5:7; Heb. 11:1 and 27. S. Goebel has collated the following passages on sight and faith, using only John’s Gospel: 1:50; 2:23; 4:45, 48, 50; 6:36; 10:37, etc.; 11:40, 45; 14:11; 15:24; 20:8.

10. The Conclusion, 30, 31

These two verses constitute the formal conclusion of the Gospel as planned and composed by John. “No other historical writing in the New Testament, and few historical writings of antiquity, have such a clear conclusion as has the Fourth Gospel in 20:31, etc.” Zahn. This verdict needs no support. The only question worth answering is why John closes the body of his Gospel with the account concerning Thomas, or, in other words, why he did not add a few more sections, possibly on the appearance to the five hundred (1 Cor. 15:6), baptism, and the ascension of Jesus. This question has already been answered repeatedly whenever occasion offered to compare John’s selection of incidents with that of the synoptists. He selects what most adequately unfolds his subject: the Attestation of Jesus as the Son of God. This subject he himself indicates in v. 31.

It is not a question as to what John might have added under this subject; for all along we see that his aim is not to multiply but to select. His last selection thus is the Thomas incident which culminates in the attestation voiced by this disciple, an attestation which surely forms a climax in every way—such unbelief turned into the confession, “My Lord and my God!” The entire Gospel is misapprehended when its objective nature is made subjective as though John had intended to trace “the development of the faith of the disciples and of his own.” What he actually traces is the Person of the Son of God in the Attestation of his Ministry and his Passion and his Resurrection. That Attestation is now before us.

John 20:30

30 The concluding words are brief. Many and other signs, therefore, Jesus did in the presence of his disciples, which have not been written in this book; these, however, have been written in order that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name. It would be misleading to regard σημεῖα as in any sense being in contrast with “the words” of Jesus. The ἔργα are at times contrasted with the oral testimony, as in 10:37, 38, but even then the oral testimony is attested by the works. The ethical term “signs” always points to what lies back of these signs, what these signs manifest and display to men’s minds and hearts. The very term thus involves the words of the teaching of Jesus.

It is John’s Gospel in particular which connects the signs with the discourses of Jesus. Even when no sign is immediately connected with a discourse, the signs (or works) yet form the basis and the background without which the discourses would hang in the air. “Signs,” of course, embraces all the miracles but extends beyond them to every significant action which revealed Jesus. Jesus did these signs “in the presence of his disciples”; the preposition ἐνώπιον is weighty, just as ἔμπροσθεν is in 12:37. John has in mind: in their very presence so that the disciples were able to see them in the most perfect manner. They were his constant companions so that even when their presence is not specifically mentioned in cases like 5:1, etc., where no action on their part required mention, they were undoubtedly present. In 12:37 the reference is to the Jews in general, but the same persons (Jews) did not see all the signs, for at times one set of Jews saw one sign, and at another time another group saw another sign.

In the case of the disciples this was different, for Jesus had selected the disciples as his chosen witnesses, and his purpose was to have them see his signs so fully as to be able to function as his witnesses indeed (1 John 1:1). Besides the Twelve two other men were thus qualified, Acts 1:20–23. In their case the purpose of Jesus was personal faith, which, however, was attained in only a few (12:37); in the case of the chosen disciples the purpose extended farther: they were, indeed, also to be believers but in addition the Lord’s selected and qualified witnesses for all future time.

Already these considerations show that John is here speaking of his entire Gospel and that he has in mind not only the last chapter in which he recounts four incidents taken from the resurrection history. We may add that the contrast John uses between the signs he wrote in this book and the many other signs not written by him cannot be crowded into just this one chapter. The sense of John’s statement cannot be: I have recorded only four resurrection signs, but Jesus offered many more during the forty days. The number of the appearances was quite limited (1 Cor. 15:5, etc.), and in the main they were similar: Jesus presenting himself alive. The term σημεῖα, too, is hardly the one to use if only the appearances are referred to. It fits admirably if John is speaking of his entire Gospel.

Furthermore, the phrase “in this book” certainly has in mind the entire “book” not merely its small closing section. When John writes “in this book” he intimates that his readers know of other books, those of the other evangelists, in which quite a number of these “many and other signs” are recorded, so that it was not necessary for John to duplicate those well-known records.

John 20:31

31 Verse 30 is only a preliminary statement. John tells his readers that he has made a selection of material in composing his Gospel. Naturally the main statement now follows, namely one which tells us what guided him in his selection. It was no abstract, theoretical, pedagogical, or even doctrinal principle but the supreme practical principle: “in order that you may believe,” etc. John’s intention was to write an εὑαγγέλιον, “a Gospel,” setting forth the realities concerning Jesus so that they may produce faith in those who are not believers and may confirm faith in those who believe. The majority of the texts has the aorist πιστεύσητε, others have the present.

John is writing for readers who already believe; hence this aorist is not ingressive, “come to believe,” but perfective, “may believe definitely, finally, completely.” The second ἵνα clause has the durative presents πιστεύοντεςἔχητε. John’s purpose in writing what he does is ἵναπιστεύσητε, “that you may be believing,” i.e., now and ever.

In 19:35 the verb has no object and thus signifies faith as such. Here in the conclusion John adds the object, but it is of such a nature that it again indicates the entire Christian faith and not merely faith in certain important facts such as the actuality of the appearances. When John thus addresses his readers in the second person in a book which otherwise presents objective material he indicates his own inner attitude toward his readers. Throughout the book he feels as though he himself were present in the congregation where his lines are read, as though he himself were speaking personally to his readers. This is the more significant when we recall that he constantly keeps his own person as well as all his relatives in the background, not once directly naming them. This humility on his part, however, is not intended to make him anything less than a personal witness. That he speaks as such we are now most certain.

His readers are to believe “that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God.” “Jesus” is the historical person who moves through John’s sacred pages. On ὁΧριστός see 4:25. This designates the office of Jesus into which the anointing with the Spirit inducted him. We are to believe that Jesus is the Messiah promised in the Old Testament, “the Savior of the world,” as the Samaritans put it in 4:42. The apposition, “the Son of God,” reveals his deity and his connection with the Father. John’s conclusion tallies with his Prolog (1:1–18).

In “Jesus” we have the full humanity of the Messiah, and in “the Son of God” his deity, the two joined in the personal union of the incarnation (1:14). It is not true that John’s Gospel displays only “the God” Jesus; as in the other Gospels “the man” Christ Jesus is also made to stand before us. If the image of his deity is fully revealed to us, which we most gratefully acknowledge, we are compelled to add that no other Gospel exceeds John’s in presenting with such clearness and often with the deepest tenderness the image of his perfect humanity. But the words here used, “that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God,” constitute not only the full sum and substance of the faith of all believers But at the same time the perfect and the most adequate confession of that faith. So adequate is this faith and this confession that it covers all that John has recorded. In so doing it certifies to us its oneness and its identity with the faith and the confession of the other evangelists and of the other New Testament writers.

And thus we see that, while John chose only certain parts of the entire gospel story for record “in this book,” he did so, not as discounting the other parts, large portions of which the synoptists placed into their records, but as uniting his record with theirs in supporting the faith “that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God.” This, too, is why he weaves his record together with theirs in so many places, counting on it that his readers know their records, and adding to their records new features as well as entire new sections.

The proximate purpose is the faith of John’s readers, the ultimate purpose is: “and that by believing you may have life in his name.” Compare 1:12, and on the terms “believe” and “having life” 3:15, 16. Faith and faith alone has life. The present subjunctive is the proper term, for the believer has this life at once, the instant he believes, and possesses this life with all that it contains as long as he believes. “In his name” makes the pronoun αὑτοῦ the final word. Here, as so often before (see 1:12), ὄνομα is the revelation which brings Jesus to us as the Christ, the Son of God, so that we may know and embrace him by faith. The ὄνομα is the one and only means. The preposition should be left in its native sense: “in union, in vital connection with, his Name.” The entire Gospel of John, yea, the entire gospel as such, is nothing other than “His NAME.”

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.