Traditions, sources and relation to the ‘historical Jesus’
How did John compose his text? Did he have oral or written sources? Did he have access to any of the Synoptic Gospels? What are the origins of the materials where he differs from them? Does his Gospel have value for reconstructing ‘the historical Jesus’? These are the questions to be considered in this chapter.
In the past, when this Gospel was attributed quite simply to the apostle John, it was often assumed that the primary source was the author’s own memory. Vivid details such as the plentiful grass at the time of the feeding miracle (6.10), or Martha’s blunt exclamation, ‘Lord, he’s already stinking’ (11.39), were thought to derive from the Evangelist’s personal recollection. So too were the precise notes of time (e.g. 1.39: ‘It was about four o’clock’), and the names of individuals who are anonymous in the Synoptics. Today it is widely recognized that these are the sort of details that are often added to orally transmitted, or even written, stories to bring them to life. One is also conscious of the fact that where John differs from the Synoptics he may have a theological motivation (e.g. his placing of the Temple ‘cleansing’ at the start of Jesus’ ministry rather than towards the end). All this means that one cannot assume that where John differs from the other Gospels he is relying on personal memory or necessarily has a fresh source.
In general, modern scholars are sceptical about John’s value for establishing historical facts concerning the life and ministry of Jesus. For example, the SBL ‘Jesus’ Seminar concluded that only a tiny number of details peculiar to John are likely to be authentic.1 On the other hand members of the newer SBL ‘John’ Seminar are much more inclined to favour the possibility of historicity, sometimes adducing ‘background’ materials in support (e.g. the discovery of what seems to be the pool of Siloam mentioned in John 9.7).2 Some of those supporting John’s historical value do so because they believe he was himself an eyewitness, others because they believe he had access to oral traditions incorporating eyewitness testimony; many of them believe that he wrote independently of the Synoptics, or with only limited access to their traditions.
John’s potential use of orally transmitted materials has become an especially controversial area and must be seen in the context of recent developments in ‘historical Jesus’ studies which have focused on issues of ‘orality’ and memory.3 A particularly influential work is Richard Bauckham’s Jesus and the Eyewitnesses (2006), which won the 2009 Michael Ramsay Prize for theological writing and has become the focus of much scholarly discussion (see esp. JSHJ 6, 2008). Bauckham argues that all four Gospels relied on the work of eyewitnesses, the author of John’s Gospel being an eyewitness himself. This hypothesis is discussed in detail in Excursus 2: we here summarize some salient points and criticisms.
It is doubtful how far John’s Gospel claims to be written by an eyewitness. The Prologue twice uses the first person plural: ‘We have beheld his glory’, and ‘from his fulness we have all received grace’ (1.14, 16); but these statements could express the faith of a group who witnessed Christ’s glory at a spiritual level, and who have a sense of having received blessing through him (cf. 1 John 1.1–4). The much-quoted affirmation in 21.24 that the beloved disciple wrote ‘these things’ comes in what is widely believed to be an addition to the Gospel, the ‘give-away’ words being what follows, ‘and we know that his testimony is true.’4 A key passage comes in John’s account of the crucifixion, when he comments in a peculiarly emphatic way on the blood and water that flowed from Jesus’ side: ‘He who saw this has borne witness, and his witness is reliable. He knows that he speaks the truth, so that you too may believe’ (19.35). But this refers directly to only one incident and has a clear apologetic function (Nineham, 1960, p. 254); the verse may well be an addition to the text by an editor seeking to encourage trust in the narrative and faith in the life-giving effects of Jesus’ death (cf. Dodd, 1963, p. 14; cf. Kruse, 2003, p. 372). As Andrew Lincoln has shown (2002, pp. 12−15), these and other apparent claims to eyewitness material seem to be more concerned with establishing faith than historical reliability.
Bauckham draws attention to personal names in the Gospels, suggesting they may be pointers to eyewitness testimony (2006, chs 3, 4). But there is ample evidence that names can be added to stories (cf. Bultmann, 1972, pp. 68, 241, 283, etc.). Only three personal names are peculiar to John − Nathanael, Nicodemus and Malchus, though he shares Martha, Lazarus and Annas with Luke. Annas is known from other sources as Caiaphas’ predecessor as High Priest; but very little can be concluded from the other names. They are consistent with John’s use of Palestinian tradition, but could have been supplied by someone without direct knowledge of those concerned.
Questions over the ‘orality’ of the society in which the author of John lived are more complicated. Writing had been used in Palestine for many centuries before the Gospels for both literary and practical purposes, but oral and literary communication of stories can exist side by side. It is even possible that written versions of events could be influenced by orally transmitted stories in what is called ‘secondary orality’, particularly if a text were edited over a period of time, as has been postulated for John. But there is also strong evidence that oral transmission can distort memory of events for both conscious and subconscious reasons (cf. Byrskog, 2000, pp. 145−59; Allison, 2010, ch. 1; Ledonne, 2012; see further Excursus 2). The possibility of memorized oral tradition and control of its content by a ‘college’ of the Twelve remains very problematic and is particularly unlikely for John. All this means that the potential for any detail in John to derive from eyewitness evidence or accurately remembered oral tradition must remain somewhat remote, unless supported by other convincing evidence. The hypothesis that the author himself was an eyewitness is not borne out either by a close examination of the ‘testimony’ attributed to Papias or the general character of John’s writing.
Possible written sources
The Synoptics
What written sources might have been available to John? The obvious possibility is one or more of the Synoptics. The Church Fathers seem to have assumed that John wrote last and in awareness of them. This is explicitly stated by Clement of Alexandria (c.150–c.215): ‘John, last of all, realizing that the physical facts [ta sōmatika] had been made clear by the Gospels, urged by his friends and divinely moved by the Spirit, composed a spiritual Gospel’ (in Eusebius, Hist. eccl., VI.14). The word used for ‘spiritual’ (pneumatikon) can also mean ‘mystical’ or ‘symbolic’. Patristic authors often supposed that when John supplied fresh details (like the time of day or the number of fish caught) it was for symbolic reasons, though they also believed that he corrected the other Gospels when he had additional information.
Early historical-critical scholars likewise assumed that John knew the Synoptics. Many of them were less sanguine about the possibility of fresh historical data, assuming that John’s distinctive material arose mostly from his profound meditation on their stories, influenced by ‘Hellenistic’ ideas and developments. These views were strongly challenged by Gardner-Smith (1938). He worked right through John pointing out weaknesses in the arguments of scholars like Streeter (1924), who had postulated literary dependence on both Mark and Luke. Gardner-Smith put up a good case for believing that John preserves reliable information about John the Baptist’s ministry, and for the independence of John’s healing of the official’s son (sometimes thought to be dependent on the Synoptic story of the centurion’s servant). But his arguments were marred by the repeated assertion that John is independent, when all he showed was that dependence had not been proved.
Since Gardner-Smith’s arguments are still quite widely accepted,5 they are worth examining in more detail. Gardner-Smith assumed that if John had known the Synoptics he would have had too much reverence for them to alter them in the ways commonly postulated. Thus he argued that had John known Mark he could not have introduced the episode of Nicodemus and his spices because it contradicts Mark’s account of the women coming to anoint the body on Easter morning (1938, pp. 71f.). This argument seems fallacious. In the first century CE the Synoptics were not yet regarded as canonical Gospels, verbally inspired and unalterable, and in any case parallels from Jewish historiography show that even texts regarded as divinely inspired were often rewritten to serve new purposes (Carson and Williamson, eds, 1988). Modern Synoptic scholarship demonstrates that where Matthew and Luke used Mark (and their postulated common source, usually designated ‘Q’) they did so with creative freedom. John would not have been thought irreverent for altering Mark any more than the Hebrew author(s) of Chronicles would be deemed disrespectful for reinterpreting 1 and 2 Kings, or the non-canonical book Jubilees for condensing and recasting Genesis and part of Exodus. It is striking that the author of Jubilees (probably a second-century CE Palestinian Jew) had no compunction about representing his text as direct revelation from God, through ‘the Angel of the Presence’, to Moses. He included fresh conversations, prayers, explanations and legal ordinances, from a wide variety of sources, working up the whole into an edifying quasi-historical narrative.6 Josephus (c.37–c.100 CE) similarly rewrote biblical history imaginatively, and some Greek and Roman biographers and historians used their sources very creatively.
What then are the principal reasons for assuming that John knew one or more of the Synoptics? The strongest case can be made out for familiarity with Mark. John adopts the same literary genre of ‘Gospel’ (which Mark may have developed out of Graeco-Roman biography).7 He follows the same basic order of events, beginning with the Baptist’s witness, describing miracles and conflicts with the Jewish authorities, and culminating in a detailed Passion Narrative, and the empty tomb. Both Gospels include an anointing at Bethany and a ‘triumphal entry’ to Jerusalem (though they place them in a different chronological relationship). Both narrate a final meal with the disciples, Judas’ betrayal, Jesus’ arrest, an investigation by Jewish authorities, Peter’s threefold denial and Pilate’s condemnation of Jesus. Both also include Jesus’ mockery, scourging, crucifixion between two others, the drink of sour wine, women witnesses to the crucifixion, and a woman or women at the empty tomb (Mark 11.1–10; 14.1—16.8; John 12f.; 18—20). In both, the feeding miracle and the walking on the water are closely associated (Mark 6.30–52; John 6.1–21). John and Mark have Pilate ask the same question, ‘Do you want me to release the King of the Jews?’ (Mark 15.9; John 18.39). There are also some striking verbal agreements: ‘Rise, take up your bed and walk’ (Mark 2.11; John 5.8); ‘loaves costing two hundred denarii’ (Mark 6.37; John 6.7); ‘expensive ointment of pure nard’, worth at least ‘three hundred denarii’ (Mark 14.3, 5; John 12.3, 5). Some of these agreements involve unusual or rare words, e.g. krabbatos, a colloquial word for bed; pistikos, apparently meaning ‘pure’, of nard (Anderson, 2007, pp. 131f. lists further sayings common to John and Mark).
Some of this common material is also found in Matthew and Luke. However, it is striking that John agrees with them where they agree with Mark, but rarely where they differ (Streeter, 1924, p. 399). John seems to show no knowledge of Q, though one Q passage has often been seen as very ‘Johannine’ (Matt. 11.25–7; Luke 10.21f.; note the references to ‘the Son’, a favourite title in John). There is little evidence to support the idea that John knew Matthew’s special material (‘M’), but he does have characters and incidents uniquely in common with Luke. These include the figures of Martha and Mary, with Martha’s serving at supper (John 12.2), the names Annas and Lazarus, a visit by Peter to the empty tomb (only in some manuscripts of Luke), and an appearance of the risen Jesus to the assembled disciples in Jerusalem (Luke 24.36–49; John 20.19–23).8 John also shares with Luke the miraculous catch of fish, placed by Luke at the start of Jesus’ ministry, and by John after the Resurrection (Luke 5.4–11; John 21.4–11), and several coincidences of wording, including Pilate’s threefold proclamation of Jesus’ innocence (Luke 23.4, 14, 22; John 18.38; 19.4, 6), the double cry, ‘Crucify him’ (Luke 23.21; John 19.6), the anointing of Jesus’ feet (rather than his head, as in Mark and Matthew; Luke 7.38; John 12.3), and the details that it was the right ear of the High Priest’s servant that was cut off (Luke 22.51; John 18.10) and that two angels were seen at the tomb (Luke 24.4; John 20.12).
None of this proves that John used these Gospels in the form we now have them. Some of the shared materials must have been common knowledge among Christians; some may derive from common sources, or (hypothetical) earlier versions of Mark and Luke; some details might have been introduced into John’s text by editors after its main composition, in the interests of harmonization. Nevertheless the precise coincidences of wording are impressive, as are the places where John appears to follow Mark’s ordering of events. Taken as a whole, the evidence supports the idea that John was familiar with Mark and with some parts of Luke.9 This does not necessarily imply that he had copies of their Gospels before him when he wrote. He may have heard stories from them through others; he may have heard them read liturgically; he may have become so familiar with them that phrases from them came unconsciously to his mind.
Did John write for an audience who might be presumed familiar at least in outline with the Synoptic stories? His account of the Baptist’s witness to the descent of the Spirit on Jesus (1.32–34) presupposes that his audience knew the story of Jesus’ baptism. His characterization of Thomas as ‘one of the Twelve’ (20.24; cf. 6.67) similarly assumes the importance of the Twelve, even though he has never described their appointment or listed their names. His reference, after the feeding miracle, to eating Jesus’ flesh and drinking his blood (6.51c–58) presupposes familiarity with Jesus’ interpretation of the bread and the cup at the Last Supper (‘institution of the Eucharist’), not otherwise described in John (see further Bauckham, 1998a, pp. 147–71). If John did know Mark and Luke, he must have re-expressed their stories in his own style and omitted much that he did not find relevant to his special themes.
Other potential sources
The idea that John knew at least some of the Synoptics cannot account for all his unique materials. What other sources could he have used? Some scholars suppose that he had access to an independent, continuous Passion Narrative, which included some Resurrection appearances (cf. Bultmann, 1959, 1971). There is no doubt that Jesus’ Passion and Resurrection were extremely important for early Christians, and that they reflected on these events in the light of the Jewish Scriptures (Christian Old Testament), which they saw as foreshadowing or even foretelling them. It is certainly possible that early Christian storytelling instincts produced continuous accounts of the Passion that have not survived. The problem is one of methodology: no such independent narratives exist, and they have to be reconstructed from the Gospels. Some have attempted to do this with John by ‘peeling off’ what is distinctively ‘Johannine’ to see what remains. But this is a perilous procedure. Stylistically and theologically John’s Passion and Resurrection Narratives (chs 13—20) cannot be separated from the rest of the Gospel. We simply do not have adequate tools to reconstruct any continuous written source (cf. Brown, 1994, p. 84; see further Smith, 2001, ch. 5, discussing Lang, 1999, and others).
One prime area where John differs from the Synoptics is in his attribution to Jesus of long speeches in a distinctive style (e.g. the Supper Discourses), differing sharply from his speech patterns in the other Gospels. Some have sought to explain this by suggesting that Jesus, when talking intimately with his disciples, used a different style from his public teaching. But this will not work. In John, Jesus speaks in the same style when confronting ‘the Jews’, teaching in the synagogue and Temple, conversing with individuals, or teaching the disciples privately. This style is quite different from that of the longer Synoptic discourses (e.g. Mark 13; Matt. 5—7). The content of these Johannine speeches and sayings also is often different, focusing on knowledge of God, and on Jesus’ role as redeemer and the one sent to make God known (e.g. 17.3, 6–8); they also reveal a ‘dualistic’ outlook on the world.
Bultmann (e.g. 1955, pp. 10f.; 1971) proposed that John used a collection of Gnostic Offenbarungsreden, ‘revelation speeches’, for his discourses. This hypothetical source, which Bultmann believed to have been originally composed in Aramaic (or Syriac), is also known as the Redenquelle, ‘Discourse Source’ (cf. Smalley, 1978, p. 104). It should be made clear that Bultmann did not picture it as a single document, and that by Reden he intended also conversations, since he sees John as drawing on this source for quite short sayings (as well as for the Prologue). In support of his hypothesis Bultmann cited many examples of Semitic-style poetic parallelism in John’s sayings and discourses, and numerous parallels to their thought in the Mandaean writings, Hermetica, Odes of Solomon, and other ‘Gnostic’ literature. The problem is that the sayings cannot readily be disentangled from their narrative context (e.g. in John 3 and 6). Bultmann achieves continuity for his ‘revelation speeches’ only by postulating disruptions and transpositions in the text. There are also problems over the dating of the supposed ‘Gnostic’ sources. Sometimes closer parallels can be found in the Qumran texts (dated to before 70 CE), which are also dualistic in thought and contain references to ‘messianic’ or redeemer figures. One feature of John’s discourse material that Bultmann especially stressed is the idea that Jesus came down from heaven and ascended to his Father (cf. 3.13; 6.38, 62). This descent–ascent theme is sometimes considered one of the strongest arguments for John’s dependence on ‘Gnostic’ mythology (so Meeks, 1967, p. 297). Yet parallels are far from lacking in Jewish sources.10 (On John and the Gospel of Thomas see below Ch. 10, n. 2.)
The upshot of all this is that direct dependence on written ‘Gnostic’ sources for John’s discourses seems unlikely. Yet the question remains: whence did he derive the speeches that he puts on Jesus’ lips where there are no Synoptic parallels? The most likely hypothesis is that he composed the bulk of them himself, seeing them as a valid means of communicating his understanding of Jesus, in the firm belief that he was guided by the Holy Spirit who Jesus had promised would lead his followers into all truth (John 14.16f., 26; 15.26; 16.13). Such a procedure is amply paralleled in Greek and Roman literature, in Jewish authors like Josephus, and in Christian writers like Luke in Acts. This is not to suggest that everything in John’s discourses is invented. Conscientious writers, like Thucydides (1.22), attempted to include anything known (or believed) to have been said on the occasions in question, or at least to express ideas consistent with the views of the person to whom the speeches were attributed. We may presume John did the same (see further Keener, 2003, pp. 68−76).
In fact, the speeches and dialogues which John puts on the lips of Jesus quite often contain sayings which cohere with the Synoptic presentation of his teaching and which some scholars see as having an authentic ring. These include sayings about his ‘works’, e.g. 4.34; 5.17; 9.3b–4 (see Ensor, 1996, applying criteria similar to those used to test authenticity in Synoptic scholarship), parabolic sayings, e.g. 13.16 (cf. Matt. 10.24f.) and 5.19, sometimes called ‘the parable of the apprenticed son’, and other Synoptic-type sayings recast into Johannine form.11 Christologically such sayings are important for expressing Jesus’ belief that he was sent by God, and that his mission was to do God’s will (cf. Dodd, 1963, pp. 315–17; 1967). They do not, however, prove that the whole speech in which they are embedded goes back to Jesus.
Did John have a separate written source for Jesus’ miracles? He certainly handles these distinctively: though only eight in number, they include several without Synoptic parallels. Moreover, they are presented as ‘signs’ (sēmeia), a term occurring 16 times in John 2—12 (the so-called ‘Book of Signs’). These signs reveal Jesus’ identity (2.11), and induce faith in him (e.g. 2.23; 4.53) – or occasionally unbelief (e.g. 9.18, 34 beside 9.35–38). They are not presented as arising from compassion (contrast Mark 1.41), nor are they specifically linked with the dawn of the kingdom (contrast Luke 11.20); nor yet are they primarily demonstrations of power, as implied by dynamis, a Synoptic term for miracle (Mark 6.2, 5; Matt. 7.22; Luke 10.13; etc.). Bultmann and many others have therefore argued that John had a distinctive ‘Signs Source’ (Sēmeiaquelle).12
The first point to be noted is that there is nothing particularly unusual about the designation of the miracles as ‘signs’. Sēmeia is widely used in the New Testament for Jesus’ miracles (e.g. Acts 2.22; 4.16; Rom. 15.19; 2 Cor. 12.12); it is also the regular term for ‘miracle’ in the Septuagint, appearing over 100 times (see Salier, 2004, pp. 18−25). In the Hebrew Bible miracles often induce faith (or unbelief), as can be seen most obviously in Exodus (e.g. 4.8f.). Indeed, in recounting his ‘signs’ John may well have been influenced by biblical miracle traditions, especially the Moses, Elijah and Elisha cycles (cf. Boismard, 1993). In addition, it must be observed that sēmeion is not John’s only term for ‘miracle’: he also calls them collectively erga or ‘works’ (e.g. 5.36; 7.3).
Some have argued that stylistically John’s miracle narratives may be distinguished from the rest of the Gospel. This claim is extremely difficult to prove, partly because it is hard to define where a miracle narrative begins and ends, and partly because of the general homogeneity of John’s style. Some miracles are described in short, readily defined units, e.g. the wine miracle (2.1–11), the healing of the official’s son (4.46–54), and the walking on the water (6.16–21). Others are harder to delimit. The raising of Lazarus is part of a long, elaborately constructed narrative (11.1—12.11) in which the miracle itself is integrated with episodes involving the disciples, Lazarus’ sisters Martha and Mary, and ‘the Jews’. Are we to suppose that all of this came from the ‘Signs Source’?13 Another awkwardness is that three of the miracles are not termed sēmeia in the course of the miracle account, but only in the ensuing interpretative dialogues –6.14 (feeding miracle); 9.16 (lame man); 11.47; 12.18 (Lazarus). Another three – the blind man’s healing, the water-walking and the miraculous catch of fish – are not directly called ‘signs’ at all. Only in two – the wine miracle and the official’s son – is the term sēmeion used in close connection with the miracle, occurring in editorial-style comments involving a numbering of the sign (2.11; 4.54). All this must weaken the case for the term sēmeion being derived from a special source for all eight miracles.
What about style? Even in English translation it can be observed that some parts of John (e.g. 13.31—17.26) are written in a leisurely, rather repetitive style, while others are more succinct and fast-moving. However, skilled authors often vary the pace of their works. Attempts to isolate distinctive ‘Johannine’ stylistic traits, and to separate off passages displaying these and attribute them to specific sources, have not met with success.14 Reconstructed sources vary enormously in their contents: for some, the ‘Signs Source’ recounted only miracles; for others, it contained most of John 1—12 (see Fortna, 1970, app.). Scholars also differ as to whether the conclusion in 20.30f., which includes the word ‘signs’, is John’s own composition or stems from this source.
There are also theological arguments. Some suggest that the ‘Signs Source’ depicted Jesus as a wonder-worker or theios anēr,15 which they see as inconsistent with the rest of the Gospel’s ‘high’ Christology. But the striking thing about John’s miracle narratives is how little the element of wonder occurs. It has also been argued that miracles in the ‘Signs Source’ induce faith, whereas elsewhere faith that depends on physical signs is disparaged.16 But no tidy line can be drawn between places where ‘signs faith’ is acceptable and places where it is not. The official is reproached by Jesus for expecting ‘signs and wonders’ (4.48) right in the middle of a passage attributed to the ‘Signs Source’ allegedly promoting this sort of faith. In fact, John has a sophisticated understanding of faith, which involves more than the ‘signs’. The disciples’ faith at Cana was just a first step: it needed to be deepened through long association with Jesus before they were ready to be sent out in mission. In any case, if the theology of the supposed source differed from John’s own views, why did he make so much use of it (cf. Lindars, 1971, p. 37)?
Sometimes literary arguments are added for the ‘Signs Source’. John’s narrative is not fully consistent at story level. For example, after the Temple ‘cleansing’ John says that many believed when they saw ‘the signs’ (2.23); but up to this point only one sign has been related. Similarly Nicodemus refers to ‘the signs’ (plural: 3.2), when no further miracles have taken place. Then the healing of the official’s son is described as ‘the second sign’ (4.54), despite these earlier references to plural ‘signs’. Some argue that such anomalies arise from source materials not being properly integrated. But the Gospel writers, like classical dramatists and poets, did not compose their works anticipating the minutely detailed scrutiny to which their texts have been subjected. They had far fewer opportunities for revision than modern authors using word-processors, or even writing longhand; writing materials were expensive and not lightly wasted. Minor inconsistencies were bound to remain.17 In any case readers can readily supply in imagination many details not narrated in the text.
The oddest feature about John’s ‘signs’ is the explicit numbering of the first two – water into wine and the official’s son – but none of the others. A case can be made for these two miracles as coming from a distinct ‘short Signs Source’, originating in Galilee. Both miracles are located there, being linked by a cross-reference (4.46a); neither can plausibly be derived from any Synoptic narrative. Stylistically they contain the fewest peculiarly ‘Johannine’ characteristics (listed in van Belle, 1994, app. 2). Sometimes the fishing miracle (21.1–8), also located in Galilee, has been seen as coming from this source; but this is not a numbered sign,18 and it is hard to understand why John should have separated it so far from the first two if it was originally connected to them (van Belle, 1994, pp. 251–71). This story more likely came either from Luke, or a source in common with Luke.
As for the remaining miracles, John probably derived the feeding miracle and the walking on the water from Mark. He may have had a separate ‘Jerusalem’ source for the miracles there (the lame man, the blind man and Lazarus), though there are some parallels to the first two in the Synoptics. Lazarus’ raising is different in tone and detail from Synoptic Resurrection miracles (Mark 5.22–43 par.; Luke 7.11–15). John could have had a special source, or he may have created this magnificent episode for theological reasons (cf. Lindars, 1972, pp. 382–6). We conclude, with van Belle (1994, esp. p. 376), that the case for a ‘Signs Source’, in the sense of a single document describing all eight of John’s miracles, has not been made.
This does not mean that John had no written sources, merely that they cannot be identified with confidence. Even dependence on Mark and Luke remains conjectural. John has evidently remodelled whatever oral or written sources he had in the interests of his theology, transposing them into his own distinctive style. If this search for sources has proved inconclusive, at least it may have led to a better understanding of his Gospel.
Relation to ‘the historical Jesus’
The conclusion just reached has implications for attempts to recover ‘the historical Jesus’. Ever since the ‘new look’ (cf. above, Ch. 2) some scholars have scoured John for factual information about Jesus additional to that derived from the Synoptics. The awakened interest in ‘orality’, memory and eyewitness testimony has intensified this study. But it must be frankly recognized that discovering for certain Jesus’ exact words and actions is a well-nigh impossible task. Even the Synoptic portrayals are not factual reporting. They, too, offer ‘portraits’ of Jesus rather than ‘photographs’, influenced by the available traditions, the Evangelists’ own perceptions, and their theological and pastoral purposes.19 Modern scholarship has gone some way towards establishing Synoptic interrelationships and in setting up criteria for the ‘authenticity’ of Jesus’ words, but scholars still differ widely over many issues. A basic problem is the absence of independent documentary sources to confirm in any detail the Synoptic data.
With John the task of recovering historical information (other than that already identified in the Synoptics) is fraught with problems, because no independent written sources have been convincingly identified, and the idea that the author was an eyewitness or used oral tradition based on eyewitness testimonies remains quite unproven. This means that one has to rely to a considerable extent on general probability. There are topographical details which could derive from personal memory (discussion in Ch. 5), some personal names with a strong Palestinian background (Nathanael, Nicodemus, Malchus), and one passage claiming eyewitness testimony (19.35, discussed above). There are other features which look historically plausible, such as the idea that some of Jesus’ first disciples were followers of the Baptist; the overlap of their ministries; and the spread of Jesus’ ministry over several years, including several visits to Jerusalem. Jesus’ appearance before Annas (18.13) has no obvious theological or literary function, some details of Jesus’ Roman trial fit in with what is known of Roman judicial procedure, and John’s dating of the crucifixion is preferred by some scholars to that of the Synoptics.20 But there are also many details which John may have introduced for symbolic reasons (e.g. Jesus’ carrying his own cross; his seamless robe), and episodes where he seems to have dramatized historical events, reinterpreted them to find Scripture fulfilment, or created dialogues, as an effective means of conveying his theology. Jesus’ conversations with Nicodemus and the Samaritan woman may come into this last category,21 as well as some of his confrontations with ‘the Jews’. The miracles attributed to Jesus pose special problems, especially the raising of Lazarus (scholars’ attitudes are often affected by a priori considerations, including faith-commitment), as do Jesus’ long speeches such as the Supper Discourses.
All this does not mean that John lacks all historical foundation, far less that it consists of deliberate untruths; but only that one cannot expect to recover data of the sort recorded in Hansard or other public records. This is not an ‘archive’ (Thatcher, 2005) of the historical Jesus, but a dynamic interpretation of how the Gospel author(s) understood him in the light (as he/they saw it) of the Holy Spirit’s guidance, leading them into truth. Its primary purpose was theological, hortatory and evangelistic.