5

Purpose, audience, place and date of composition

The previous chapter suggested that John’s primary purpose was theological and evangelistic. This raises further important questions. What motives prompted him to write and for whom did he intend his Gospel? Where and when was it composed? In contemporary literary criticism attempts to identify an author’s purpose are viewed with suspicion. People speak of ‘the intentional fallacy’ (e.g. Malbon, 2000, p. 21). But nobody would attempt a work with such sustained narrative and theological content as John without having an aim. In fact, John states his purpose in 20.31: ‘These things are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Anointed, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in his Name.’ This suggests that his main purpose was to encourage life-giving faith in Jesus as ‘messiah’.1 It is left ambiguous whether the aim is to induce this faith in new converts or those already committed to Christianity, or both.2

The titles chosen in 20.31 are significant: John does not say, ‘that you may believe that Jesus is the Word’ (logos), or ‘that Jesus is God’ (theos), but ‘that Jesus is the christos’, i.e. ‘Anointed’. This expression would be readily intelligible to Jews, who would naturally be interested in the identity of the Lord’s Anointed (i.e. God’s authoritative agent, and Israel’s ‘end-time’ deliverer). They would also have immediate meaning for Christians familiar with the idea of Jesus as the long-awaited ‘Christ’ (Mark 1.1; Matt. 16.16; 26.63; Rom. 1.1–3; etc.). But for Gentiles christos would be puzzling, since in secular Greek it means ‘rubbed in’ of oil (e.g. as applied to wounds).3 Possibly John added ‘Son of God’ as an explanation for them, though this phrase is capable of a range of interpretations. Readers would, however, be guided by John’s earlier presentation of Jesus (including the Prologue). For authors’ intentions are revealed not just by specific statements of purpose, but perhaps even more by the ways they present events, or depict characters, and through their choice of language. This means we, too, need to look at the broader picture.

A Gospel for Hellenism?

A once popular theory was that John wrote primarily to commend Christianity to devout and thoughtful people in cosmopolitan Hellenistic society (Dodd, 1953, p. 9; further references in Smalley, 1998, pp. 160f.; Keener, 2003, pp. 154−8). Educated pagans and Hellenized Jews would be interested in the presentation of Jesus as the logos, a term with special meaning in Stoic philosophy (Scott, 1906, esp. pp. 6f., 145–8). John’s dualistic concepts and his theme of an ascending–descending redeemer would appeal to Gentiles familiar with oriental ‘Gnosticism’. His emphasis on Jesus as the ‘true light’, ‘true vine’, etc. could be related to the Platonic concept that visible objects and perceptible qualities are shadows of eternal realities. Today this theory is generally discounted. John’s logos image seems to owe more to Jewish religious thought than Greek philosophy; his dualism can be paralleled at Qumran, while the ascent–descent theme is at home in Judaism. The application of the epithet ‘true’ (or ‘real’) to Jesus probably implies a contrast with Judaism rather than familiarity with Plato’s theory of forms (Smalley, 1998, pp. 46–64).

Another argument against the idea that John’s primary purpose was to convert pagans is its lack of explicit references to them. Unlike other New Testament authors, John never uses ta ethnē in the sense of ‘Gentiles’ (Robinson, 1962, pp. 109f.), nor does he use pagans as models of discipleship. Very few Gentiles feature, and those who do – notably Pilate and the Roman soldiers – are hardly examples to be imitated. Jesus never visits the Hellenized areas of the Decapolis, Syro-Phoenicia or the region of Caesarea Philippi, as he does in the Synoptics. No Syro-Phoenician woman puts her faith in him; no demon-possessed man is set free in the Gentile territory of Gerasa; no Roman soldier confesses Jesus at the cross; there is no great commission to the nations. All this strongly suggests that John had little interest in mission to pagans. The only external mission is to Samaritans (4.1–42),4 whom Jews would have seen as heretical fellow-Jews rather than Gentiles. The strongest pieces of evidence for pagans (or Gentile Christians) being among the intended audience are John’s use of the term Ioudaioi, since Jews normally spoke of themselves to fellow-Jews as ‘Israelites’ or ‘Hebrews’, and the explanations of Jewish terms, customs and feasts (e.g. 1.41f.; 2.6; 7.2; 19.40).

A Gospel for Jews?

The idea that Jews formed a major element in the target audience is suggested already in the Proem, when John the Baptist says that he came baptizing with water so that Jesus might be revealed to Israel (1.31). It is strongly supported by John’s use of Jewish Scripture in ways that would make sense only to those already familiar with it. This Gospel is steeped in allusions to themes from the Hebrew Bible, including Law, Sabbath and Temple; sin, forgiveness, holiness and ‘election’; Passover, manna and the bronze serpent; images of shepherd, living water, word and lamb; the patriarchs Abraham, Moses, Jacob, and the Deuteronomic prophet; Spirit and ‘Anointed’. Some of the references are direct and clear, and might be intelligible to educated non-Jews, but many are indirect. Would anyone unfamiliar with the Hebrew Scriptures detect the probable allusions in the Prologue to the shekinah and the revelation of God’s glory on Mount Sinai, or its background in Jacob’s vision of a stairway to heaven in 1.47–51? How many non-Jewish readers could pick up the subtle scriptural ‘fulfilments’ of the Passion Narrative?

Furthermore, the audience is evidently expected to be familiar with contemporary Jewish controversies. These include the questions of whether God ‘worked’ on the Sabbath (5.17), and whether anyone has ascended to heaven to ‘see’ God (cf. 1.18; 3.13; 6.46). The whole theme of Jesus as revealer relates to Jewish debate about whether God still discloses himself after the apparent cessation of prophecy. Jesus’ pre-existence as logos, and the logos’ role in Creation, are illuminated by Jewish wisdom ideas. John also assumes that readers can grasp rabbinical methods of exegesis, including the argument about Abraham ‘rejoicing’ to see Jesus’ day (8.56), and the application of the text, ‘You are gods’ (10.34; cf. Ps. 82.6). All this suggests that some or most of the intended audience were biblically literate, educated Jews.

Were these Jews still practising their faith within the Synagogue, or were they already separated from it? This question has greatly vexed scholars. On the one hand John often portrays ‘the Jews’ negatively. He sometimes appears to distance himself from Judaism, representing Jesus as speaking as if Jews were outsiders (e.g. 13.33), and saying ‘your Law’, rather than ‘our Law’, when addressing fellow-Jews (8.17; 10.34; cf. 7.22: ‘Moses gave you [not us] circumcision’). This has led to the belief that, for all its Jewish flavour, John was written for those who perceived themselves as Gentiles (so Casey, 1991, 1996, esp. pp. 111–33). On the other hand there may have been special reasons for these second-person pronouns (see below, Ch. 12). John’s sharp criticisms of ‘the Jews’ seem to fall within what was acceptable in ancient literary polemic. Judaism in the first century CE was not monolithic, but included groups with varied beliefs and practices, so that John could have been operating within the context of an ‘intra-Jewish factional dispute’ (Dunn, 1991, p. 160; cf. 2001, p. 59). Others who support the idea that John wrote for Jews, including proselytes, are Carson (1987, 1991, p. 91), Motyer (1997, esp. pp. 6f.); cf. Keener (2003, pp. 171−232), arguing John wrote for Jewish Christians.

Motyer offers a plausible scenario for John’s ambivalent attitude to Judaism, at times positive, at others negative. He sets the Gospel’s composition in the context of the upheavals following the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in 70 CE, interpreting it as an appeal for a new start. The Roman action under Titus had effectively ended the Jewish priesthood and sacrificial system. One group of Jewish religious leaders, based at the rabbinic academy at Jamnia (Yavne) in Palestine, sought to rebuild Judaism by minutely detailed study of Torah, ‘Law’, and by applying the rules of Temple purity to the home. The Synagogue had already become a focus of worship and piety for many, especially in the Dispersion. According to Motyer, John offers an alternative to extreme Torah devotion by setting out Jesus as the fulfilment of Temple rites and festivals, and as providing atonement for sin, replacing animal sacrifices. There is also the possibility that some Jews for whom John wrote might have considered themselves as still belonging to the Synagogue, but were not so regarded by their fellow-Jews (cf. John’s references to people being made aposynagōgoi, discussed below). Paul’s letters and Acts amply affirm the existence of Christians who still kept Jewish food-laws and other ritual observances, a situation persisting into the second century.

To sum up the position so far: some of John’s intended audience must have been pagans, for whom he included his explanations of Jewish customs; but many were Jews or Jewish Christians. These might have been still within the Synagogue or outside it. Were such Jews living within Palestine, or in the Dispersion? Van Unnik (1959) and Robinson (1962, pp. 107–25) argued that John was intended as a missionary document to Diaspora Jews. They noted the explicit reference to Jews of the Greek Dispersion (7.35), using the correct rabbinic phrase for this group, and the coming to Jesus of Hellēnes (12.20–22), plausibly interpreted as Greek-speaking Jews.5 They also pointed to Caiaphas’ prophecy that Jesus would gather in ‘the scattered children of God’ (11.51f.); on the lips of the High Priest, this might readily mean Diaspora Jews rather than Gentiles. John’s interpretations of Aramaic words (e.g. 1.38, 42; 20.16), usually seen as for the benefit of Gentiles, could also help Greek-speaking Jews unfamiliar with that language. John’s emphasis on Jesus as messiah (‘anointed’) and God’s Son (1.34, 41; 7.41; 20.31, etc.) would be of special interest to Jews generally.

Van Unnik and Robinson put up a good case for Greek-speaking Diaspora Jews as part of John’s target audience; what they did not demonstrate was that they were its sole intended readers. These must surely have included Palestinian Jews, and possibly Jews from the Eastern Diaspora. Did it also include Christians (whether of Jewish or Gentile origin)?

A Gospel for Christians?

Barrett (1975) was surprisingly critical of van Unnik’s and Robinson’s thesis, believing that John was written primarily for Christians. Jewish concepts and images, he argued, are used in characteristically Christian ways. Thus ‘messiah’, which in Hebrew simply means ‘anointed’, appears as a title, sometimes almost as a proper name (1.17; 17.3; cf. Mark 1.1; Rom. 1.1; etc.). The description of Jesus as ‘God’s lamb, who takes away the sin of the world’ (1.29, 36) goes beyond Jewish sacrificial imagery, reflecting specifically Christian thought (cf. 1 Cor. 5.7; 1 Pet. 1.19). John’s picture of Jesus’ intimate relationship with the Father also presupposes Christian understanding. Other arguments in favour of an intended Christian audience include the assumption that readers will be familiar with incidents in the Synoptics, John’s apparent distancing from Judaism, probable allusions to the Eucharist (6.51c–58), and interest in Peter’s ministry and martyrdom (21.15–19).6

All this certainly shows that John wrote from a Christian perspective, but it does not prove an exclusively Christian audience. The hypothesis that best suits the complex pattern of evidence is that John intended his book for a wide readership (cf. Klink, 2007).7 This would have included Jews still within the Synagogue whom he hoped to win over, Jewish Christians whose faith he wished to strengthen, and at least some Gentiles, either already converted to Christianity, or even still pagan. Granted the overwhelmingly ‘Jewish’ tone of his Gospel, it is likely that Christians of Jewish origin were the prime target. This conclusion of a wide intended audience runs counter to some recent Johannine scholarship which sees John as written for a small, inward-looking community – a hypothesis which must now demand attention.

The Johannine writings and the Johannine ‘community’

For many centuries it was believed that one man wrote John, 1–3 John and Revelation. These writings share important features: uniquely in the New Testament, they refer to Jesus as the logos (though they use this term differently).8 All three have a dualistic outlook, but they express this in different ways: Revelation makes use of apocalyptic imagery (beasts with horns, angels with trumpets, etc.), while John and 1–3 John use polarized opposites, such as light and darkness, truth and falsehood. John, like Revelation (Rev. 1.17; 22.16, etc.), has distinctive ‘I am’ sayings (though none is the same in the two writings). All the Johannine writings are composed in a ‘Semitizing’ style of Greek, John and 1 John being stylistically very close.9

John and 1 John are also close theologically, with an emphasis on truth, witness, judgement, eternal life and God’s love (some of these themes recur in the very short letters of 2 and 3 John). Both John and 1 John stress the need for faith in Jesus as ‘the Christ’ and God’s Son, and both bid believers love one another. They share other striking concepts, including being born of God; abiding in God (or Christ); the Spirit of Truth; the world’s hatred; conquering the world; water and blood, symbolically as a pair; the contrast between God’s children and those belonging to the devil; and the term ‘Paraclete’ (used, however, differently). Some therefore attribute John and 1–3 John to the same author (e.g. Marshall, 1982, pp. 1096f.; Yarbrough, 2008, p. 5). On the other hand there are differences in style and theology, which have led to the widespread view that John and 1–3 John stem rather from a common ‘community’ (e.g. Brown, 1979; Painter, 1993, esp. pp. 66−87; Moloney in R. E. Brown, 2003, pp. 69−78). Some (e.g. Smalley, 1994, 2005) believe that Revelation originated in this community (or is even by the same author); others think it belongs to a separate group. The main arguments for the latter view are that Revelation lacks key concepts and expressions of John and 1–3 John, and uses others differently (Fiorenza, 1977, pp. 410–18; Lincoln, 2005, p. 57). Thus Revelation emphasizes future eschatology, whereas John and 1 John work mostly with ‘realized’ concepts (e.g. John 3.36; 1 John 3.14).10 Stylistically, too, Revelation stands apart in that it contains numerous solecisms (breaches of grammar), whereas the Greek of John and 1–3 John is usually grammatically correct (though not free from ambiguity). These linguistic errors were noted already by Dionysius, ‘the great bishop of the Alexandrians’, who described Revelation’s Greek as barbarous (Eusebius, Hist. eccl., VII.1, 25.26). Revelation also has a much bigger vocabulary than John and 1–3 John, though this is hardly surprising in view of its length and subject matter. Some see it as more ‘Hebraic’.11

On balance, it seems most likely that John originated in the same Christian milieu as 1–3 John, rather than by the same hand; this does not mean that all these writings were destined for the same recipients. 2 and 3 John were clearly written for small groups, possibly house-churches, under the authority of ‘the elder’.12 1 John’s audience is uncertain, as it lacks addressees: it may be a summary of a master’s teaching for quite a wide readership (Edwards, 1996a, p. 45). Revelation is probably the work of a Christian prophet; addressed to seven churches, i.e. congregations, in ‘Asia’ (modern western Turkey), it may stem from a separate circle from that of John and 1–3 John, with access to both Johannine and Pauline traditions (Fiorenza, 1977, pp. 425–7).

In what sort of circle did John and 1–3 John come to birth? Some (e.g. Culpepper, 1975; Strecker, 1996, pp. xxxv−xlii; Schnelle, 2000, pp. 1−3) have argued for a Johannine ‘school’, rather like the Greek philosophical academies of Plato and Epicurus. Grayston (1984, p. 9) found in the ‘we’ references of John 21.24 (cf. 1.14, 16) and 1 John 1.1–4 evidence that leaders of this school served as an ‘authorizing group’ for both John and 1 John. It has further been suggested that the author of 1 John may have been responsible for editing John, possibly adding the Supper Discourses (stylistically close to 1 John). Others find the ‘school’ idea unhelpful.13 A more popular hypothesis is of a ‘community’, though this is rarely defined. The term might suggest a monastic-style group who shared worship and a common life, and such communities are indeed attested within Judaism of this period. But there is no evidence in the Johannine writings for elaborate disciplinary rules of the type that feature so prominently in the Qumran texts such as the Community Rule (1QS) and the Damascus Document (CD). If there was a ‘community’ it must have been of a looser nature, perhaps a number of Christian congregations in touch with one another (like the Pauline churches), and sharing common emphases in their faith.

Those who favour the ‘community’ hypothesis often rely on social-scientific understandings of religious sects, arguing on the basis of internal indications for a ‘sectarian’ character of John and 1–3 John.14 In support of their views they cite John’s negative use of ‘the world’ (e.g. John 17.16; 1 John 2.15–17), and references to the disciples being hated (John 15.18f.; 16.2; 17.14; cf. 1 John 3.13), suggesting alienation from outsiders. Further evidence is found in John’s ethical dualism, and in his frequent and emphatic use of personal pronouns. His ‘community’ is therefore seen as small and isolated, struggling from the margins against the powerful Jewish Synagogue (Rensberger, 1999, esp. p. 151, and many others). John’s Christology is even seen as a ‘legitimating’ defence against Synagogue opposition (McGrath, 2001; cf. Meeks, 1972). This ‘community’ is allegedly preoccupied with salvation, using its own ‘antilanguage’ not readily intelligible to outsiders (Malina and Rohrbaugh, 1998, pp. 7–19; cf. Brown, 2003, pp. 14f.; Neyrey, 2007, pp. 13f.). Jesus’ commands to his disciples to love one another (John 13.34f.; 15.12f.; 1 John 3.23; 4.7–12; 2 John 5) or their ‘brothers’ (1 John 3.14, 16–18; 4.21) are interpreted as narrowing the Synoptic injunctions to love one’s neighbour (Mark 12.31 par.) and one’s enemies (Matt. 5.44; Luke 6.27, 35). Johannine ethics are considered weak and ‘morally bankrupt’: J. T. Sanders claims that if a Johannine Christian saw a wounded traveller on the road, instead of giving aid he would ask, ‘Are you saved, brother?’ (1986, p. 100).

Such interpretations seem to parody Johannine Christianity. The basic problem is methodological. Those who rely on social-scientific analysis often do so by a process of ‘mirror reading’, i.e. studying texts not for what they relate, but for social conditions and conflicts which they purportedly reflect. But as Barclay (1987) and Motyer (1997, pp. 18–31) point out, this is a hazardous process, readily leading to over-interpretation. Some studies of the Johannine ‘community’ draw heavily on only parts of John (e.g. Martyn, 1979; Woll, 1981). Many stress negative uses of ‘the world’ and ‘the Jews’ at the expense of positive concepts, resulting in lack of balance. Others fail to set John’s teaching on love in its fuller context of the mutual love of the Father and Jesus, God’s love for the world, and Jesus’ laying down his life for his friends (cf. Edwards, 1996a, ch. 7). John’s characters are often read implausibly as standing anachronistically for specific later groups. The peculiarities of John’s language are exaggerated (cf. Carson, 1991, p. 89, criticizing Malina’s sociolinguistics). Sociological models of ‘sectarianism’ are simplistically applied without external verification (Motyer, 1997, pp. 30f., with criticisms of Meeks, 1972).

The isolation of John’s ‘community’ also seems greatly exaggerated. There is abundant evidence for travel in the ancient world and for communication between early Christian communities (Thompson, 1998). John shows himself familiar with elements from the Synoptic tradition, and may have known both Mark and Luke (see above Ch. 4). It is unlikely that his understanding of Jesus’ pre-existence, role in Creation, and divinity originated in complete isolation from similar developments in the Pauline corpus and Hebrews (e.g. Col. 1.15–19; Heb. 1.2).15 If Revelation originated in a separate milieu from John and 1–3 John (as often maintained), its points of similarity with John could indicate contact with another stream of Christian tradition. All this is quite apart from broader ‘Hellenistic’ thought, which many believe to have influenced John.

The scholarly construct of John writing from, and for, a small and isolated community with narrow sectarian views should therefore be rejected. The Gospel would have been produced in the context of a believing community, but there is no need to suppose that it was written exclusively for this group (cf. Bauckham, 1998b, esp. ch. 6 by S. C. Barton). The evidence reviewed here suggests that John intended his Gospel for a wide audience, including Jews, Jewish Christians, Gentiles, Gentile Christians and, conceivably, Samaritans (see further Esler, 1998; Bauckham, 1998c, responding to Esler’s criticisms).

Place of composition

It is impossible to determine where John was written. Unlike Revelation, which claims (1.9) to have been written on Patmos (a Greek island in the east Aegean), John makes no reference to its place of composition. This has to be deduced from internal hints (topography, language, climate of thought) and later external testimonies. With regard to topography, in addition to knowledge of Galilee (in common with the Synoptists), John seems familiar with localities in pre-70 CE Jerusalem. These include ‘the Sheep Gate’ and the Bethesda pool (5.2), the pool of Siloam (9.7), Solomon’s Portico (10.22f.), and Pilate’s Praetorium (18.28, 33), with the place called Lithostratos, ‘stone-paved’, in Greek and Gabbatha (probably ‘ridge’ or ‘elevated place’) in Aramaic (19.13). He mentions Palestinian localities not otherwise known from Jewish sources with apparent precision (Westcott, 1919, p. xi). Names like Cana of Galilee, Bethany beyond Jordan, and Aenon near Salim sound authentic and have good Semitic derivations. He is also familiar with aspects of Samaritan topography – Jacob’s well and ‘this mountain’ (Mount Gerizim) as a cult centre (4.5f., 20f.). All this material is unique to John in the New Testament. John reveals no comparable details of localities in Asia Minor, Syria, Egypt or any area outside Palestine. Such topographical knowledge could suggest careful research by outsiders who had visited Palestine (Casey, 1996, p. 173), access to reliable old traditions (Albright, 1956; Robinson, 1976; Brown, 2003, pp. 91f.) or a phase of composition in Palestine (von Wahlde, 2010, vol. 1, pp. 50f.). Very few scholars would argue for final composition in Palestine.

Language could also be an indicator of origin. John writes in Koinē Greek, the simple ‘vernacular’ (popular language) throughout the Graeco-Roman world. John’s Greek does, however, display one striking characteristic. It has a ‘Semitic’ ring about it, both in syntax (grammatical constructions) and vocabulary;16 there are also traces of Semitic poetic forms. These ‘Semitisms’ (i.e. linguistic uses rare – or unknown – in Greek, but common in Semitic languages) occur throughout the Gospel, and seem unlikely to derive merely from literary imitation of Hebrew style via the Septuagint. Many seem to reflect Aramaic rather than Hebrew usage (though this can be hard to determine). Several explanations are possible: (a) John might have used Aramaic sources; (b) his Gospel might be a translation from the Aramaic; (c) John could have been a native Aramaic speaker, fluent in Greek, but with his language unconsciously influenced by Aramaic idiom. These explanations are not mutually exclusive.

Bultmann believed that all three of his postulated written sources were composed in Aramaic; but, as was seen earlier (Ch. 4), their very existence is problematic. Other, shorter Aramaic sources remain a possibility, especially for Jesus’ sayings (cf. Black, 1967, pp. 273f.; Ensor, 1996). Burney (1922) argued that John was translated from Aramaic, a hypothesis supported on a more scientific basis by Martin (1989, esp. pp. 5–94; cf. 1974), who considers all but a few short sections to be a translation. However, other experts argue that John’s style does not have the characteristics of ‘translation Greek’. They claim that it betrays the mindset of someone whose second language was Greek, but who still thought in Semitic language patterns (e.g. Barrett, 1978, pp. 8–11; Casey, 1996, with some criticisms of Martin). On balance, composition by a bilingual author and native Aramaic speaker seems most likely – or rather a trilingual author, since John appears to have known Hebrew. This hypothesis does not preclude the use of Aramaic sources.

It is sometimes assumed that knowledge of Aramaic must point to Palestine as the place of composition, since it was the language of ordinary people there (though the better-educated also knew Greek and Hebrew). But even at this date Aramaic was still spoken quite widely in the Near East, where it had once been the lingua franca, especially among Jews. John’s Aramaisms are therefore compatible also with composition in some part of the Dispersion where unassimilated Jews still used Aramaic, or with the idea of a Palestinian Jewish author who had moved abroad (as many Jews did after the fall of Jerusalem). Jewish communities are attested in Asia Minor (including Acmonia, Apamea, Aphrodisias, Laodicea and Sardis, to mention just a few cities), Greece, Syria, Mesopotamia, Cyrenaica (North Africa), Rome, and other areas. There were especially large numbers of Jews at Alexandria in Egypt. Some of these Jewish communities were so heavily acculturated to Hellenistic ways that knowledge of Aramaic (and Hebrew) was largely lost (Trebilco, 1991; Barclay, 1996); in others it survived, as evidenced by inscriptions, papyri and literary sources (cf. Reynolds and Tannenbaum, 1987; Mitchell, 1993, vol. 2, pp. 8f., 31–7). Very few Aramaic inscriptions have been found at Ephesus, but there is literary evidence for Jews there, probably mostly Greek-speaking.17 All this means that no firm conclusions can be drawn about place of composition from language (which offers no special support to those who argue for Ephesus).

John’s occasional distancing from things Jewish and his negative portrayals of the Jerusalem religious leaders are often seen as pointing to final composition in an environment estranged from ‘official’ Judaism; this need not be in the Diaspora. Many scholars assume that John must have been published in a cosmopolitan city because of its use of ‘Hellenistic’ ideas, but by the first century CE much of Palestine was Hellenized. Three cities, in particular, have been favoured as likely places for composition: Alexandria (cf. possible links with Philo’s thought, and the early papyrus fragments from Egypt); Syrian Antioch, where John appears to have been known early (cf. Ignatius’ apparent citations); and Ephesus, traditionally associated with the apostle John. However, the case for Ephesus weakens if apostolic authorship is rejected, and even more if John is no longer closely linked with Revelation.18 Traditions placing composition in Ephesus are no earlier than the second century CE. Leaving these aside, there is nothing to prove that the whole Gospel was not written in Palestine, or in any other Jewish-Christian community in Asia Minor, or Syria (or elsewhere) where both Greek and Aramaic were spoken. If the Gospel went through more than one edition, then the various editions could have originated in different places.

Date of composition

Most scholars suppose that John was composed over a long period, incorporating both old oral traditions, cast into Johannine form, and newer materials resulting from personal reflection, contact with a wider world of ideas, and possibly additional sources. Most also believe that it was edited, probably more than once. Editorial additions might be minor explanatory glosses (e.g. 4.2), ‘ecclesiastical’ alterations (e.g. possibly 6.51c–58), or more substantial modifications (e.g. the addition of chapter 21). The Prologue has often been seen as belonging to a late phase of writing, as have chapter 6, the section on Lazarus, the second Farewell Discourse and the ‘High-Priestly Prayer’ (cf. Lindars, 1972, pp. 50f.; see further Brown, 1966, pp. xxxiv–xxxix; Schnackenburg, 1968, pp. 100–4). Editing might have been done by the original author (so Ashton, 2007, pp. 33f.), by an associate or pupil from his ‘circle’ (so many scholars), or even by someone with looser links to the original author (though this seems less likely). For examples of recent works dividing up John’s Gospel according to theories of editing, see Schleritt (2000) and von Wahlde (2010).19 No theory of composition history can be demonstrated beyond doubt, though different phases of writing are highly probable. In discussing date, it may therefore be more helpful to talk about the time of publication rather than composition, i.e. when the Gospel was issued in something like its present form.

Papyrus fragments from Egypt, together with patristic citations, show that John was circulating by the early to mid-second century CE – how soon before this is debatable. A few scholars support a pre-70 date (notably Robinson, 1976, pp. 254–311; 1985), arguing from the difficulty of proving allusions to circumstances after 70 CE, the possible presence of old Palestinian traditions, and the failure to mention the Temple destruction as a past event. These arguments have failed to convince many. Old traditions (if such they be) might belong to an early edition or have been incorporated from fresh sources after 70 CE. The destruction of the Temple may be indirectly alluded to (2.19f.). Most scholars therefore support publication after 70 CE. Arguments include the lack of references to the Sadducees (a Jewish group active before 70 CE), the prominence given to the Pharisees, who seem to have become ascendant at Jamnia, and John’s use of rabbi in the sense of ‘teacher’ (but see below, Ch. 7, n. 2). His emphasis on Jesus as fulfilling, or possibly replacing, the Temple and its rites would also fit this period.

John’s apparently hostile use of ‘the Jews’ and expressions like ‘your Law’ seemingly distancing Jesus from the Jewish leadership could also plausibly be set in the context of the stress on Torah observance by the Jamnian rabbis (though this is not the only possible explanation). Sometimes it is said that it must have taken time for John’s advanced Christology to develop; but this is a weak argument. Some of Paul’s almost certainly authentic letters (e.g. Philippians) display a ‘high’ Christology, as does Hebrews (possibly composed before 70 CE). Some consider that belief in Jesus’ divinity could hardly have developed when Christians were still members of the Synagogue (so Casey, 1996), but others disagree. Not much can be learnt from John’s relationship to the Synoptics, as it is uncertain how far he used them. If he knew only Mark, a date soon after 70 would be possible; if he was dependent on the final versions of Luke or Matthew (which many would not accept), then a date in the late 80s or even 90s would be more plausible.

Publication after c.85 CE is often postulated because of John’s references to people being made aposynagōgoi, ‘separated from the Synagogue’ (9.22; 12.42; 16.2). These are widely held to relate to the introduction of a new clause to the Synagogue prayers, reputedly by the Jamnian authorities, around this date (e.g. Brown, 1979; Martyn, 1979). This is known as the Twelfth Benediction or birkat ha-minim, ‘blessing of the heretics’. The relevant section begins by calling on God to destroy speedily the apostates and insolent government, continuing: ‘and let the Christians [nosĕrim] and the heretics [minim] perish in a moment, let them be blotted out of the book of life, and let them not be written with the righteous. Blessed art thou, O Lord, who humblest the insolent’.20 Thus, although technically a blessing (birkat), this was effectively a curse. Often this text is believed to refer to the same event as the ‘cursing’ of Christians in synagogues mentioned by Justin Martyr in the second century (Dial. 16; 96).

There are, however, serious problems with using the birkat to date John. First, in its earliest form it did not include the word nosĕrim (interpreted as ‘Nazoraeans’, i.e. Christians); the nosĕrim could, conceivably, be included with the minim (‘heretics’) – which does occur in early versions – but minim normally refers to unorthodox Jews rather than Christians. Secondly, the dating of the birkat to c.85 CE has been strongly challenged: the rabbinic sources (b. Ber. Bar. 28b–29a; y. Ber. IV, 3.8a) linking it with Samuel the Small (85–100 CE) and/or the Jamnian academy are late and possibly unreliable (Lincoln, 2000, p. 270). Nor is it evident that Justin’s accusation that Jews cursed Christians in the synagogues necessarily refers to this clause.21 It is also questionable whether the Palestinian rabbis had authority to impose such prayers throughout the Jewish world, including Ephesus, where most scholars locate John’s ‘community’. For all these reasons the evidence of this birkat must be rejected for dating purposes.22

Nor can any help be derived from John’s relationship to Revelation or 1–3 John. It is not clear whether Revelation was written before or after the Gospel, and in any case it cannot be securely dated – it is generally assigned to the reign of Domitian (81–96 CE), though some support a date in Nero’s reign (54–68 CE). The letters of 1–3 John are usually dated before c.100 CE. They are generally placed after the Gospel (Edwards, 1996a, pp. 53–5), though some scholars suppose that they precede its final editing. But even if they do post-date the Gospel’s publication, this only slightly reduces the ante quem provided by papyri. To conclude: a date before 70 CE seems unlikely on various grounds; publication after c.100 CE is improbable. Therefore c.75–c.95 CE seems the most plausible time for John’s publication in something close to its present form.

Conclusion

There can be no certainty about either the place or date of publication of John. Its association with Ephesus rests on the strength of patristic testimony (and possible links with Revelation) rather than on internal evidence. John must have worked in the context of a Christian environment, but attempts to use social-scientific analysis to delineate the character of his ‘community’ have proved unsuccessful. He probably wrote for a broad audience, including Jews and Jewish Christians, to whom he was eager to demonstrate Jesus’ messiahship. But his aim extended beyond this: he also wanted to set out his own understanding of Jesus’ actions and person, to strengthen the faith of Christian believers, and to offer salvation and new life through Jesus.