Chapter 45

John 20:19–23

Literary Context

This pericope is the third of four sections of the final section of the narrative proper, which brings climactic resolution to the Gospel story. The previous pericopae explained the fact of the empty tomb (20:1–10) and the reality of Jesus’s resurrection and impending ascension and the nature of his relationship to his disciples (20:11–18). The Gospel has taken care to establish that the saving power and presence of God has been made manifest through the person and work of Jesus. In this pericope the reader is guided to see how this power and presence is also bestowed upon the disciples—the church—and is exhorted to participate in the mission of God.

  1. IX. The Resurrection (20:1–31)
    1. A. The Empty Tomb (20:1–10)
    2. B. The Appearance to Mary Magdalene (20:11–18)
    3. C. The Appearance to the Disciples (20:19–23)
    4. D. The Appearance to Thomas and the Purpose of the Gospel (20:24–31)

Main Idea

On the first Lord’s Day, Jesus transformed the founding church by replacing their fear with his forgiveness, the true peace of God, and commanded them to participate in the continuation of the work of God by obediently responding to the mission of God in the Spirit of God.

Translation

Structure and Literary Form

The structure of this pericope is different than a basic story form (see Introduction). In this first postresurrection appearance of Jesus to his disciples, the pericope is facilitated by means of four statements by the Lord that climactically summarize the theology of the Gospel and ultimately the new covenant and the mission of the church. The first statement, set in the context of Jesus’s supernatural appearance to the disciples, involves a symbol-laden greeting that serves to declare the peace of God (vv. 19–20). The second statement is the announcement by Jesus that the mission of God now includes the sending of the disciples (v. 21). The third statement of Jesus is the bestowal of the Spirit of God (v. 22). Finally, in the fourth statement Jesus declares that the disciples share in the ministerial authority of God (v. 23). This pericope and the statements of Jesus derive their meaning not merely from this section of the Gospel (ch. 20), but from the entire Gospel narrative.

Exegetical Outline

  1. C. The Appearance to the Disciples (20:19–23)
    1. 1. The Peace of God (vv. 19–20)
    2. 2. The Mission of God (v. 21)
    3. 3. The Spirit of God (v. 22)
    4. 4. The Ministerial Authority of God (v. 23)

Explanation of the Text

This short five-verse pericope abounds with the theological force of the entire Gospel. Yet its theological freight is often easily eclipsed by the notorious interpretive crux in Johannine scholarship regarding Jesus’s breathing/blowing and giving the Spirit to his disciples in v. 22.

Following the declaration of the empty tomb in the first pericope in chapter 20 (20:1–10), the next three pericopae involving the appearances of Jesus each play a different role. While this pericope can be said to depict the first meeting of the church, with Jesus founding and declaring its identity in the person and (continuing) work of God, the appearances of Jesus to individuals surrounding this pericope each depict a different aspect of relating to Jesus. The appearance to Mary (20:11–18) functions for the Gospel as an explanation of how Jesus is to be related to physically, and the appearance to Thomas (20:24–31) functions for the Gospel as an explanation of how Jesus is to be related to textually, especially by concluding with the Gospel’s purpose statement (20:30–31).6 This pericope, however, speaks more directly to the church and its relation to the fullness of God’s person and work, guiding the reader to see how the church is now participating in the mission of God through Christ and in and by the Spirit.

20:19 When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and with the doors closed where the disciples were for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, “Peace to you” (Οὔσης οὖν ὀψίας τῇ ἡμέρᾳ ἐκείνῃ τῇ μιᾷ σαββάτων, καὶ τῶν θυρῶν κεκλεισμένων ὅπου ἦσαν οἱ μαθηταὶ διὰ τὸν φόβον τῶν Ἰουδαίων, ἦλθεν ὁ Ἰησοῦς καὶ ἔστη εἰς τὸ μέσον καὶ λέγει αὐτοῖς, Εἰρήνη ὑμῖν). The pericope begins with a temporal designation that explains that the events to follow are taking place on the same day as the previous events in chapter 20, though now in the evening. As we discussed before, the phrase “the first day of the week” (τῇ μιᾷ σαββάτων) makes this more than a chronological marker, for it simultaneously echoes again the Gospel’s creation motif (see comments on 20:1). It is no wonder that the earliest Christians were convinced that this day, Sunday, the first day of the week, was the most appropriate day for the gathering of the church. Not only was it the day of the resurrected Lord, the day creation itself was reclaimed by God, but according to this pericope it was also the day the “church” met for the first time.7 While such a designation is a theological deduction, it is interesting that the gathered disciples also qualified as a congregational quorum or minyan of ten men (no Judas or Thomas) according to Jewish regulations (cf. Num 14:27; Ps 82).

This first meeting of the church started as anything but glorious, for these soon-to-be-appointed apostles of the resurrected Lord were not gathered for worship on this first Lord’s Day but were hiding from the Jewish authorities behind “closed” (κεκλεισμένων) doors, a verb which can also be translated “locked,” which is certainly implied in this context.8 No specific reason is given; the reader of the Gospel can only assume that the political power the Jews wielded during the trial of Jesus and the link between the now-crucified Jesus and his disciples made them hide in fear. The irony is stark: on the greatest day in the history of the world, a day when God defeated death itself and inaugurated the restoration of his creation, his closest followers were not celebrating but cowering in fear.

Yet the narrator may have mentioned the locked doors more to explain the appearance of Jesus than the presence of the disciples, for even with the doors closed the narrator explains that “Jesus came and stood in their midst” (ἦλθεν ὁ Ἰησοῦς καὶ ἔστη εἰς τὸ μέσον). This cryptic description of Jesus’s entrance is often used to interpret the nature of Jesus’s resurrected body (see vv. 20, 26; cf. 1 Cor 15:44). While a miraculous entrance might be implied, the text only refers explicitly to his appearance among them, not to the mode of his entrance.9 In light of the rest of the Gospel, this appearance serves as a final and climactic “coming” of the Lord to his people (see 1:9); Jesus had said, “I am coming to you” (14:18; cf. 14:28), and this coming is guaranteed.

What Jesus said to the disciples is even more important to the narrative than his miraculous entrance: “Peace to you” (Εἰρήνη ὑμῖν). This traditional Jewish salutation typically meant nothing more than “peace be with you” or “may all be well with you.”10 But in light of the OT’s use of the term (shalom) and its importance in the NT and early Christianity, certainly more is intended, especially in this context.11 “All that the prophets had poured into shalom as the epitome of the blessings of the kingdom of God had essentially been realized in the redemptive deeds of the incarnate Son of God.”12 On the evening of Easter, Christ’s use of the term “peace” is less a greeting and more a pronouncement of blessing, a declaration that the peace of God—the eschatological peace promised in the OT—has now been made accessible through Jesus Christ. This symbol-laden greeting is the equivalent of “it is completed” (19:30), though now in its postresurrection translation.13 It is no surprise that every epistolary greeting of Paul in the NT includes “peace” along with “grace,” for “the throne of grace” (20:12) is the place of peace. Jesus had spoken of this peace in the farewell discourse (14:18, 27; 16:33), and he will speak this same pronouncement greeting two further times to the disciples (v. 21; 20:24).

20:20 And after he said this, he showed his hands and side to them. Then the disciples rejoiced when the saw the Lord (καὶ τοῦτο εἰπὼν ἔδειξεν τὰς χεῖρας καὶ τὴν πλευρὰν αὐτοῖς. ἐχάρησαν οὖν οἱ μαθηταὶ ἰδόντες τὸν κύριον). The potency of Jesus’s statement of greeting to his disciples is based not only on the words he spoke but also on his actions: “He showed his hands and side to them” (ἔδειξεν τὰς χεῖρας καὶ τὴν πλευρὰν αὐτοῖς). Just as Jesus’s greeting in this context was symbol laden, so is his display of wounds from the cross.14 But “there must be more here than a reductionist reading of the narrative logic might demand.”15 The display of wounds is not simply an act of identification, a proof to the disciples that the man standing in their midst is Jesus. Rather, they explain the source of his peace. The peace of God was entirely dependent on these specific wounds—the scars from the crucifixion declare shalom for the world. Isaiah was speaking about this very encounter when he announced that “the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed” (Isa 53:5; emphasis added).

The narrative continues by saying that “then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord” (ἐχάρησαν οὖν οἱ μαθηταὶ ἰδόντες τὸν κύριον). In light of the context as well as the use of the title “the Lord,” we must assume that the response of the disciples is not merely in regard to his presence but also his person; he is the resurrected “Lord.” His scar-filled presence declares the defeat of both sin and death, and as the narrative stated earlier the disciples were now beginning to understand the fullness of his person and work (see comments on 12:16). Jesus had promised to turn their “grief” (like the “weeping” of Mary Magdalene; see 20:11, 13, 15) into “rejoicing” (16:20–24; cf. 15:11; 17:13). And that transformation occurred in the presence of his transformed person on the evening of the first Lord’s Day. The narrative’s details craft for the reader an image of heavenly worship, with believers standing around Jesus and worshipping the slain Lamb of God (Rev 5:11–12).

20:21 Then he said to them again, “Peace be with you. Just as the Father has sent me, I also send you” (εἶπεν οὖν αὐτοῖς πάλιν, Εἰρήνη ὑμῖν· καθὼς ἀπέσταλκέν με ὁ πατήρ, κἀγὼ πέμπω ὑμᾶς). The repetition of the symbol-laden peace greeting further clarifies that this is no simple greeting. Acting as a preface to the statement that follows, it suggests here that peace is to accompany the disciples in their forthcoming mission.16 Moreover, “just as” the mission of the Son of God involved peace, so also will the mission of the children of God involve peace, the proclamation of the eschatological shalom of the OT and that Christ’s victory over the powers of evil has been accomplished.17

Jesus announces to the disciples what earlier he had only prayed to the Father (cf. 17:21): “Just as the Father has sent me, I also send you” (καθὼς ἀπέσταλκέν με ὁ πατήρ, κἀγὼ πέμπω ὑμᾶς). With this statement Jesus declares that the disciples—and the church as a whole—are called to participate in the mission of God in a manner similar to the Son. As we mentioned earlier, there is an important difference in senders (the Father sends the Son; the Son sends the disciples), which means the roles of the sent ones are also different (see comments on 17:18). Jesus’s specific choice of words also reveals a distinction, for he uses two different synonyms for “sent/send” (ἀπέσταλκέν/πέμπω). While the Fourth Gospel frequently uses related or overlapping words synonymously across the narrative (e.g., 13:10; 21:15–17), when they are used in close proximity (especially in the same verse) there is usually a carefully nuanced distinction or comparison intended between them. In this case the distinction is provided by the senders. The Son was participating in the work of the Father, and was doing what only the Son can do. In a similar way, then, the disciples are participating in what is ultimately the work of the Son, a work made possible through the Son alone (see comments on 17:19). Although the church is sent “just as” (καθὼς) the Son was sent, the mission of the church is defined by the Son who sent them, from whom the nature and direction of its mission are derived.

The derivation of the mission of the church needs to be more carefully defined. It is common for interpreters to connect the missions of the Son and the church to “structural similarities” and historically based parallels18 or to use Jesus’s mission as a “model.”19 But this approach is not complex enough to grasp both the continuity and discontinuity between the missions of the Son and the church. More precise theological categories are needed for grasping the unique yet participatory nature of the mission of God in and through the church. While theologians may simply refer to the account of the divine economy and the indivisibility of the divine works as a reflection of the nature of God’s mission, some theologians suggest even further that this account is also reflective of the very nature of God. That is, the works of God have their origin in the very nature of God, the pattern of relationship between the Father, Son, and Spirit.20 While the Father’s sending of the Son might merely be an expression of the economic Trinity (functional), it can also be grounded in the immanent Trinity (ontological), “reflecting on the eternal inner-triune relationships of love which Father, Son, and Spirit share, and in which the church is called to participate.”21

While both economic and immanent readings are possible in this verse, it is worth reflecting on the implications to be drawn from an understanding of the immanent Trinity. Several can be described. First, the apostolic mission given to the church is in direct relation to the eternal life of God. The sending of the Son and the Spirit—the gospel story—is neither foreign to God nor an afterthought (an act intending to repair unforeseen damage). Rather, “God’s own life is gospel shaped . . . what happens on Calvary is a repetition of the pattern of God’s eternal life.”22

Second, the church does not merely imitate the sending of the Son but participates directly in the very same mission of God. “The reason why mission is of the very being of the church is that mission is not just imitating the sending forth of Jesus. It is a participation in the Father’s own sending of the Son . . . mission is rooted in the very being of the triune God.”23 The sacrifice of Christ then was always intended to occur as such and is part of God’s self-determination of his own life—“it is part of who God is, not just what God has done.”24

Third, the logical conclusion is that the church’s participation in the mission of God is a response to the nature of God. Just as God is love or is holy, so also is he missionary. And the church’s worship of God must match the full nature of God. “Just as the church is called to love in ways that mirror the eternal relationships of love that Father, Son, and Spirit have shared from all eternity, so the missionary nature of the church derives ultimately from the missionary nature of God’s own life.”25 Ultimately, then, if God is to be properly described as “missionary,” then appropriate Christian worship of God can only be done by a missionary church. And since God is missionary in his eternal identity, the mission of God in which the church now participates can never come to an end.

It is important that the reader see the developing and logical progression of this pericope. The apostolic mission26 declared by Jesus here is rightly situated between the peace-creating crucifixion wounds of Jesus (v. 20) and the Spirit-received command of Jesus (v. 22). And in light of this verse, then, the giving of the Spirit that follows is not merely empowerment for the mission of God but a divine manifestation for participation in it.27 That is, the church participates in the missionary life of God by remaining in Christ (15:4) and receiving the Spirit (v. 22).

20:22 And after he said this he blew and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit” (καὶ τοῦτο εἰπὼν ἐνεφύσησεν καὶ λέγει αὐτοῖς, Λάβετε πνεῦμα ἅγιον). In light of the previous verse, the transition from the mission of God to the Spirit of God is both logical and warranted. Even more, it is in light of this larger context that the giving of the Spirit is to be understood. This verse is not doing something distinct from the mission just announced. The Spirit, as God, is the key component of this mission, for this mission is ultimately the mission of God, who is the ground and goal of Christian mission. The narrative makes the connection clear by including the temporal connection “and after he said this” (καὶ τοῦτο εἰπὼν). The words of Jesus function as commentary on the forthcoming action of Jesus.

The narrator explains the action of Jesus with one word: “He blew” (ἐνεφύσησεν). This term only occurs here in the NT, though it occurs ten times in the LXX. While nearly every translation expresses the verb as “breathed,” there are other, more common NT words that are normally used for breathing: “breathe” or “breathe out” (ἐκπνέω) in Mark 15:37, 39 and Luke 23:46; “breathe” or even “blow (softly)” (πνέω) in Matthew 7:25, 27, Luke 12:55, Acts 27:40, Revelation 7:1, and twice in the Gospel at 3:8 and 6:18. In John 3:8 (see comments on 3:8) it is clearly being used playfully with its cognate noun “wind/breath/spirit” (πνεῦμα). Why did the author not use the cognate form of Spirit here, especially when involving the giving of the Spirit? The cognate verb for Spirit is more commonly used for “breathing” or “soft blowing” (πνέω), but context is needed to determine its sense.28 The verb in this pericope likewise needs further context. When compared to other uses in the LXX, its sense is much stronger than “breathe,” for it is used in Job 4:21 of a hot wind and in Sirach 43:4 of igniting coals of a blazing furnace.29 Thus, this particular verb is more commonly used to describe a stronger or more powerful breathing, best translated as a kind of “blowing.”30 Derrett is correct when he suggests that “the desire to read ‘breathed’ may derive from an attempt to explain this strange behavior.”31

Striking in its absence is the lack of a direct object. While the disciples are clearly the implicit recipients of Jesus’s blowing, the lack of a direct object distances the act from this specific situation and emphasizes the symbolic nature of the gesture. In light of the fact that the verb “he blew” (ἐνεφύσησεν) is more common in the OT (LXX) than the NT and in light of the Genesis-laden context of the Gospel of John and the Genesis lens applied to its interpretive telling of the person and work of Jesus (see comments on 18:1), it is difficult not to see a connection to Genesis 2:7, where the exact same verb is used: “Then the Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground and blew [ἐνεφύσησεν] into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living person.” Given this rare use of this verb, the use of it here is clearly intended to echo the first story of human enlivenment. The Gospel guides the reader to see here an act of creation.32 This connection is strengthened even further by the use of the same verb in Ezekiel 37:9 (LXX), which envisions the breath/wind/Spirit of the Lord recreating the temple and the people of God: “Blow into these slain that they may come to life.”33

At this climactic moment at the end of the Gospel, the narrative signals again the creation theme with which the narrative began. In the context of Genesis 1–2 and Ezekiel 37, the “blowing” of the Spirit by Jesus is the re-creation of the temple of God and the people of God. At this moment this quorum of ten fearful men were being established as a new creation, the church—a “new humanity” (Eph 2:15) and even a “new Israel” or priestly class in light of the connection to Ezekiel 37:9. That is, Jesus is establishing by the Spirit his body as a ministering agent in the world, and by the same Spirit Jesus is empowering this new humanity to do what Adam and others had failed to do: to be God’s representatives and ministers in the world.34 This final Genesis allusion creates a bookend for the theme of creation that functions as a frame for the entire story of Jesus told by the Gospel. “The climax of the Fourth Gospel presents Jesus as [‘blowing’] upon the apostles after the pattern of the creating God who [blew] upon the Edenic couple; now they receive the Spirit, and not simply the gift of life.”35 And this creation motif extends to the end of chapter 20, when the narrator explains the purpose of the Gospel that the reader may have “life” re-created in Jesus Christ (20:31).

In light of our discussion above, the meaning of Jesus’s command, “receive the Holy Spirit” (Λάβετε πνεῦμα ἅγιον), must be understood with its two-part preface of participation in the mission of God (v. 21) and this symbol-laden act of “blowing.” Jesus does not give the Spirit as if some sort of transaction were taking place from one party to another, but invites the disciples to participate in the Spirit—in his Spirit—and therefore also in the Son. Jesus had prayed for the disciples (the church) to experience “in-one-ness” with God (and one another) that was directly connected to the mission of God: “I in them and you in me, so that they may be brought to completion as one, in order that the world may know that you sent me” (17:23). This kind of “in-one-ness” cannot be obtained by a human process but can only be an act “from above,” a unity that is divine from start to “completion.” It is a unity in and by the Spirit, not by an organization (see comments on 17:23). In this first meeting of the church on the Lord’s Day, on the first day of the (new creation) week (see v. 19), Jesus declares in word and deed that the church is one with God and therefore is now to work according to his nature and for his purposes in full participation with him.

This new-creation work of God can be defined further in three ways. First, as we discussed above (before v. 19 and on v. 21), this new-creation work is a work involving the fullness of the Trinitarian God. The fact that the Spirit is involved merely signifies that all three persons of the Trinity are now fully involved economically (functionally). Second, the Gospel as a whole “focuses specifically on the Spirit as the agent through whom God imparts life to others.”36 Just as in Jesus “was life” (1:4), the Spirit gives life (3:3, 5). The giving of the Spirit, therefore, is the inauguration of eternal life (20:31). Third, although God is still doing the work, with the Spirit the church is now truly able to be participants in the work of God. It is not God’s work without God; for this reason the presence of God means that for the first time in redemptive history the church is now fully included in the mission of God. In this remarkable moment, the church becomes both a recipient and a minister of the renewing work of God. For this two-sided response to the gospel is ultimately one unified work.

But what actually happened? That is the question this verse has seemed to raise the most. As much as we want to interpret a text and not an event (see Introduction), our interpretation in no way denies that Jesus said these words and performed this gesture. While the narrative demands we be only minimally reconstructive, several aspects of what happened can be explained before we give a more definitive answer.

First, as much as there is a temptation to determine if the Spirit was given here or in Acts, a judgment regarding the economic Trinity (the what), the issue is at least partially resolved by balancing it with an understanding of the immanent Trinity (the who). Since the Spirit can never be defined or located in isolation from the Son, depicted as a commodity or something for use, then the manner in which we speak of the Spirit cannot be isolated from the Son. In this instance, then, the doctrine of the Trinity helps our interpretation to maintain the unity of the persons of God, so that the particular manifestations of God are not self-destructive to the identity of God. Since the Gospel here describes the Spirit and his “coming” in such personal/relational categories, no chronological designations can be precise, at least not without underemphasizing an aspect of God’s identity.37 So, did disciples receive the Spirit at this moment? Yes. But is this John’s version (replacement) of the Pentecost in Acts? No. Relying again on theological criteria, it would be wrong to press for a chronological foundation as a starting point. When has the Spirit not been at work and present? This is not to deny a newness of the Spirit here but to suggest that the Spirit is hardly new to the biblical narrative (including the OT). If anything, the giving of the Spirit serves to mark a different kind of chronology.38 There is no need to interpret the disciples’ actions to see if it worked or to account for the absence of Thomas,39 for the Spirit’s work is not limited by its newly participating coworkers. The Spirit has been actively working independently long before the church (see comments on 15:26), even before the creation of the world (Gen 1:2).

Second, the Gospel’s account of the giving of the Spirit should be interpreted as relating thematically to “the hour,” the technical term established by the Gospel that is intimately and directly connected to the death of Jesus. Yet it also connects to Jesus in a much broader sense, not only at the point of the cross but also in his going to the Father and his glorification. That is, the death of Jesus is only the beginning of “the hour.” The “hour” never came to its conclusion during the life of Jesus, for its true completion is rooted in the life of Jesus beyond this world—the life of Jesus rooted in the cosmological plot of the Gospel’s narrative depiction (see comments on 2:4). Just as “the hour” is not a literal sixty minutes, so also is the giving of the Spirit a complex chronology.40 And just as “the hour” was inclusive of several, interrelated events, so also did the Gospel carefully describe the elements necessary for the giving of the Spirit (cf. 7:37–39). This is not to say that the giving of the Spirit is a process, as Bennema suggests,41 for this not only distorts the identity of God but also inappropriately suggests that the cross and the resurrection were performed independently of one another and only vaguely shared ties to “the hour.” No, “the hour” is the single, even if multifaceted, concluding work of the Son, involving his death, resurrection, insufflation (of the Spirit), and ascension.42 And the giving of the Spirit is part of “the hour,” which at this moment was occurring both cosmologically and historically, with neither part overtaking (or eclipsing) the other.

For this reason, then, the time-bound giving of the Spirit is best defined by relating the two givings of the Spirit (John 20 and Acts 2) to the two final events of “the hour” to which they are most connected—the resurrection and the ascension. With Westcott this would be a “relation of quickening to endowing”; John depicts the power of the resurrection and Acts depicts the power of the ascension—“the one to victory and the other to sovereignty.”43 But only when interpreted symphonically as Scripture is the reader presented with the full manifestation of the identity of God in the person of the Spirit. Befitting this pericope, which abounds with the theological force of the entire Gospel, this one verse speaks out of the context of the whole biblical story, with the “last Adam” as the “life-giving spirit” (1 Cor 15:45–49) at the beginning of the new creation.44

The modern reader, overly sensitive to the historical particulars of this event, is directed to see more imminent than economic Trinity in this text. Yet a problem remains. For if this text depicts the start of the new creation, the beginning of the in-one-ness of Jesus with his disciples, and the inauguration of the church’s participation in mission of God, how can these things be described in tangible, physical terms and categories? Said another way, if the giving of the Spirit in this text is the inauguration of eternal life, how can our commentary explain it in words of everyday life? Just as there are four Gospels and yet only one gospel, so also are there are two givings of the Spirit (John 20 and Acts 2) and yet only one giving. Do not misunderstand: words were spoken and air was blown. But even if we had been standing there, we would have understood more by faith than by sight. And it would have only been after the event and in light of its continuing manifestation (in Acts 2) that the disciples would have understood more clearly not only what God had done (the “hour”) but what he had done to them (cf. 2:22). To assume we can explain the imminent Trinity in economic terms is to confuse categories. The full reality of this event cannot be historically reconstructed in a manner that adequately explains or shows what truly happened. If God is comfortable to leave the modern reader less than satisfied with the account of the original creation (Gen 1–2), certainly he can do the same with the account of new creation.

20:23 “If you forgive the sins of anyone, they have been forgiven them. If you retain theirs, they have been retained” (ἄν τινων ἀφῆτε τὰς ἁμαρτίας ἀφέωνται αὐτοῖς, ἄν τινων κρατῆτε κεκράτηνται). The pericope concludes with a final, theologically loaded explanation by Jesus. Jesus addresses here the ministerial authority of the disciples. Like Jesus’s other statements in this pericope, this statement is brief but potent and is often compared to two similar statements in Matthew 16:19 and 18:18. Although he addresses the disciples standing around him, the generic nature of the subject matter about which he speaks serves to address the newly created church established upon these apostles (Eph 2:20). For this reason it would be wrong to suggest that the authority given to the (ten) apostles is specific to them, contra Brown, who argues that “the power to absolve and to hold men’s sins is explicitly given to (ten of) the Twelve in 20:23.”45 This is Jesus’s authority, and it belongs to his person and work—and his Spirit—and therefore to all his people. By this statement, then, Jesus shares his authority (5:22–29) with his disciples; or better, Jesus joins his disciples to his already established and already operating authority with which their functional (not ontological) authority finds its source and purpose.

Jesus declares that the disciples have an authoritative role in the forgiveness of sins, which he explains both positively and negatively. In both the positive and negative statements, conditional relative clauses (ἄν plus a subjunctive) are followed by main clauses with verbs in the perfect tense,46 signaling that something definite has already been accomplished.47 The function of the perfect tense here has been variously interpreted, especially in reference to time. But it is verbal aspect theory that should explain this use of the perfect tense.48 And since the verbs are perfect passives, it is clear that the primary actor is God, not the disciples. The sense communicated here then is that a state of forgiveness is in effect, without any allusion to the time of its inception or termination.49 Positively, therefore, a person’s sins “stand forgiven” or “are in a state of forgiveness,” and negatively their sins are not in such a state.50 The verb “retain” (κεκράτηνται) must be understood in direct relation to “forgive,” so that they are caused to stay in a condition or state of being unforgiven.51

The meaning and significance of the state of forgiveness (or lack thereof) must be defined by the preceding context, which includes the “peace” declared by the crucifixion wounds (vv. 19–20), the mission of the disciples (v. 21), and the giving of the Spirit (v. 22). As we have discussed above, this pericope has made clear that the mission of the church is wrongly viewed if it is not understood to be participation in the missionary life of God. For this reason, it is not surprising that the Gospel connects the mission of the church specifically to the forgiveness of sins. The total mission of the church could be summarized by the forgiving and retaining of sins. For “everything the church does is a prolongation in time and space of the victory of the Lamb over the world’s sin by making it a victory over our sins.”52 This explains why Jesus had to show his scars from the crucifixion (v. 20), and this explains how peace has been established and can now be declared. The message of the church is the forgiveness of sins through Christ, and the mission of the church is to liberate the world from the power of sin.53 And this commissioning cannot be narrowed to a single task but is prescriptive of the very life of the church.54

This final statement, therefore, is not an add-on or supplement to the already declared mission of the church and the work of the Spirit; it is the final result. It is the ministry of the new covenant.55 The old covenant itself looked forward to this day, as in Jeremiah 31, where a day was described in which God would be fully known by his people and sin would be removed. The words God began to speak through the prophets among Israel are concluded as his Son speaks here among the “new Israel.” For there, in the midst of his disciples encircled around him, was the Lamb standing as if he had been slain (Rev 5:6) on the evening of this historical (Easter) and eschatological or cosmological (new-creation) day, summoning his people to his very person (the body of Christ) that they may both experience and extol this slain lamb before the world.

Theology in Application

On the first Lord’s Day, Jesus stood in the midst of his fear-filled disciples and replaced that fear with the Holy Spirit, declaring that they are now participants in his mission, the mission of God. The disciples never say a word; in this moment the Word needed to do all the talking. In this pericope, the narrative guides the reader to understand what the sacrificial death accomplished for the people of God—peace and forgiveness of sins—and how such an understanding is prescriptive for both the life of the church and its mission in the world.

His Wounds Brought Us Peace

When Jesus stood in the midst of his disciples and showed them his wounds from the crucifixion, he was declaring with his body what the prophet Isaiah declared with words centuries earlier, that the Suffering Servant “brought us peace . . . by his wounds” (Isa 53:5). It was Christ’s death on the cross that provided for us the eschatological peace (shalom) promised in the OT. Christ did not merely give us this peace; he became our peace, the Prince of Peace (Isa 9:6), by removing the distance between us and God by this work. His wounds are the source of our peace, for his wounds gave healing to our own—the forgiveness of sins. Our brokenness was applied to his body, and his life was given for ours.

The Mission of the Missionary God

As much as this pericope can be called John’s equivalent to the Great Commission (Matt 28:18–20), it is so much more. For according to this pericope, it is not the church but God who is the primary actor. Before the world even knew of its condition or could recognize its Creator, God “sent” himself to the world. God is the first and foundational missionary. The fact that God “sent” is itself a declaration regarding the true nature of God. The actions of God are a reflection of the very life of God—that “God’s own life is gospel shaped.”56 Just as God is rightly described as loving or sovereign, so also is he rightly described as missionary.

The church’s participation in the mission of God is ultimately participation in the life of God. And the response of the church to the mission of God is a response to the nature of God and, more specifically, to the missionary God. The church’s worship of God must match the full nature of God. Just as the holiness of God prescribes to the church the goal and manner of its holiness (see 1 Pet 1:16: “Be holy, because I am holy”), so also the missionary nature of God prescribes to the church the goal and manner of its mission. Ultimately then, if God is to be properly described as missionary, then appropriate Christian worship of God can only be done by a missionary church. The lack of missions in so many of our churches is not to be explained by poor strategies or programs but by poor worship. By “worship” we do not mean music and singing but the alignment of the church to the nature of God and the linking of our ecclesial life to the eternal life of the Trinitarian God. The more we participate in God and according to God, the more missional our churches will become. Quite simply, the more we look like God in the person of Jesus Christ—cruciform and self-sacrificing—the more we will act like him and live “sent.”

The Holy Spirit

Throughout Scripture the Holy Spirit is the climax of God’s personal and powerful expression in the world. At the beginning of both creation (Gen 1–2) and the new creation (20:22), the Spirit of God was directing the actions of God in the world. According to this pericope it is the Spirit who unites the church to God, allowing them to participate in the very life of God. The Gospel as a whole depicts the Spirit as the agent of life, the one through whom God imparts life to others. Just as in Jesus “was life” (1:4), so the Spirit gives life (3:3, 5). The giving of the Spirit therefore is the inauguration of eternal life (20:31).

In this pericope, which abounds with the theological force of the entire Gospel, v. 22 speaks out of the context of the whole biblical story, with the “last Adam” as the “life-giving spirit” at the beginning of the new creation (1 Cor 15:45–49). And what is this new creation? It is the church, the descendants of the second Adam! Here Jesus Christ has established his disciples as the founding representatives of the newly created people of God, a new humanity and Israel, who by the Spirit become God’s temple, founded on the death of Christ (v. 20) and commissioned to declare the peace of God (vv. 19, 21) for the forgiveness of sins (v. 23). Like the first creation, in this moment Jesus spoke into creation the “holy temple in the Lord . . . a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit” (Eph 2:21–22).

Unfortunately, it is common for the Holy Spirit to be misapplied in our churches today. To some the Spirit has been inappropriately relegated to a commodity, like an electrical outlet for spiritual power. To others the Spirit has been inappropriately elevated, placed in a position that moves beyond the biblically defined identity of God. Christ’s command, “Receive the Holy Spirit,” is a command to receive God in his Trinitarian fullness. The Spirit is not an additional gift from God but a continuation and magnification of the gift of the Son from the Father. In short, the Spirit is the final and climactic statement of God’s love for the world (3:16).

The Church of God

In this pericope the second Adam gives the life-giving Spirit at the beginning of the new creation to the church, whose people become descendants of the second Adam. In this way Jesus Christ has established his disciples as the founding representatives of the newly created people of God, a “new humanity” (Eph 2:15) and “new Israel” or new priestly class (Ezek 37:9), who by the Spirit become God’s temple, founded on the death of Christ (v. 20) and commissioned to declare the peace of God (vv. 19, 21) for the forgiveness of sins (v. 23). The creation of the church establishes the “holy temple in the Lord . . . a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit” (Eph 2:21–22). The church has become “God with us” in a manner that carries on the presence of Christ by the Spirit. According to this pericope, the Trinitarian work of God is now joined to the church in such a way that it functionally represents the work of God in the world. As much as the gospel finds its origin in the life of God, the gospel is tangibly expressed by the ministry of the church. As the apostle Paul explains, “We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us” (2 Cor 5:20).

The Authority to Forgive Sins

In the first three centuries, the church often related v. 23 to the confession of sins as admission to baptism. After the Reformation, however, while the Protestants limited the verse to the proclamation of the gospel (i.e., the power of preaching God’s forgiveness of sins in Christ and the admission of sinners to baptism), Catholics responded at the Council of Trent by affirming that it should be applied to the power of ordained priests to forgive sins, proving that Jesus Christ himself instituted the sacrament of penance for dealing specifically with postbaptismal sins.57

What this text must be explaining is that the Trinitarian work of God is now joined to the church in such a way that it functionally represents the work of God in the world without being confined to the church. For just as the mission of the Son is different than the mission of the church (see v. 21), there is also a difference between their ministries of forgiveness. For the church is not only a herald of God’s forgiveness (a witness to the world) but also a recipient (an example of its work), the “bearer of that effective action” in the flesh.58 For this reason it is not merely the church’s words that declare the gospel but its very existence; the life of the church witnesses to the nature of forgiveness that has been embraced both within the church and extended outside the church. The resurrected presence of the Lord by the Spirit is now with his people in such a way that the church’s ministry is ultimately his ministry (see 13:20: “the one who receives the one I send receives me”), with the church serving as the God-established “embassy of salvation and eternal life” in the world.59