AFTER THIS, JESUS went around in Galilee, purposely staying away from Judea because the Jews there were waiting to take his life. 2But when the Jewish Feast of Tabernacles was near, 3Jesus’ brothers said to him, “You ought to leave here and go to Judea, so that your disciples may see the miracles you do. 4No one who wants to become a public figure acts in secret. Since you are doing these things, show yourself to the world.” 5For even his own brothers did not believe in him.
6Therefore Jesus told them, “The right time for me has not yet come; for you any time is right. 7The world cannot hate you, but it hates me because I testify that what it does is evil. 8You go to the Feast. I am not yet going up to this Feast, because for me the right time has not yet come.” 9Having said this, he stayed in Galilee.
10However, after his brothers had left for the Feast, he went also, not publicly, but in secret. 11Now at the Feast the Jews were watching for him and asking, “Where is that man?”
12Among the crowds there was widespread whispering about him. Some said, “He is a good man.”
Others replied, “No, he deceives the people.” 13But no one would say anything publicly about him for fear of the Jews.
14Not until halfway through the Feast did Jesus go up to the temple courts and begin to teach. 15The Jews were amazed and asked, “How did this man get such learning without having studied?”
16Jesus answered, “My teaching is not my own. It comes from him who sent me. 17If anyone chooses to do God’s will, he will find out whether my teaching comes from God or whether I speak on my own. 18He who speaks on his own does so to gain honor for himself, but he who works for the honor of the one who sent him is a man of truth; there is nothing false about him. 19Has not Moses given you the law? Yet not one of you keeps the law. Why are you trying to kill me?”
20“You are demon-possessed,” the crowd answered. “Who is trying to kill you?”
21Jesus said to them, “I did one miracle, and you are all astonished. 22Yet, because Moses gave you circumcision (though actually it did not come from Moses, but from the patriarchs), you circumcise a child on the Sabbath. 23Now if a child can be circumcised on the Sabbath so that the law of Moses may not be broken, why are you angry with me for healing the whole man on the Sabbath? 24Stop judging by mere appearances, and make a right judgment.”
25At that point some of the people of Jerusalem began to ask, “Isn’t this the man they are trying to kill? 26Here he is, speaking publicly, and they are not saying a word to him. Have the authorities really concluded that he is the Christ? 27But we know where this man is from; when the Christ comes, no one will know where he is from.”
28Then Jesus, still teaching in the temple courts, cried out, “Yes, you know me, and you know where I am from. I am not here on my own, but he who sent me is true. You do not know him, 29but I know him because I am from him and he sent me.”
30At this they tried to seize him, but no one laid a hand on him, because his time had not yet come. 31Still, many in the crowd put their faith in him. They said, “When the Christ comes, will he do more miraculous signs than this man?”
32The Pharisees heard the crowd whispering such things about him. Then the chief priests and the Pharisees sent temple guards to arrest him.
33Jesus said, “I am with you for only a short time, and then I go to the one who sent me. 34You will look for me, but you will not find me; and where I am, you cannot come.”
35The Jews said to one another, “Where does this man intend to go that we cannot find him? Will he go where our people live scattered among the Greeks, and teach the Greeks? 36What did he mean when he said, ‘You will look for me, but you will not find me,’ and ‘Where I am, you cannot come’?”
37On the last and greatest day of the Feast, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. 38Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.” 39By this he meant the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were later to receive. Up to that time the Spirit had not been given, since Jesus had not yet been glorified.
40On hearing his words, some of the people said, “Surely this man is the Prophet.”
41Others said, “He is the Christ.”
Still others asked, “How can the Christ come from Galilee? 42Does not the Scripture say that the Christ will come from David’s family and from Bethlehem, the town where David lived?” 43Thus the people were divided because of Jesus. 44Some wanted to seize him, but no one laid a hand on him.
45Finally the temple guards went back to the chief priests and Pharisees, who asked them, “Why didn’t you bring him in?”
46“No one ever spoke the way this man does,” the guards declared.
47“You mean he has deceived you also?” the Pharisees retorted. 48“Has any of the rulers or of the Pharisees believed in him? 49No! But this mob that knows nothing of the law—there is a curse on them.”
50Nicodemus, who had gone to Jesus earlier and who was one of their own number, asked, 51“Does our law condemn anyone without first hearing him to find out what he is doing?”
52They replied, “Are you from Galilee, too? Look into it, and you will find that a prophet does not come out of Galilee.”
Original Meaning
JESUS’ RELUCTANCE TO RETURN to Judea is understandable when we recall the events of his last visit (see ch. 5).1 The subject of his death arose then (5:16), and it rises again (7:1, 7, 19). In fact, this is Jesus’ last visit to Jerusalem (in September/October); in the coming spring he will be crucified. Jesus never returns to Galilee following chapter 7. Much like the Synoptic story line (see Mark 9:30–33), Jesus moves from Galilee to enter Judea, only to face the threat of death. John 7 sets the same stage. Arrest (7:30, 44) and death (7:1, 7, 19, 20, 25) are constant themes as he approaches and enters Jerusalem. Nevertheless his brothers (cf. 2:12) urge him to go and to make his identity plain (7:3–4), but their intentions are not in Jesus’ interest since, as John states clearly, “they did not believe in him” (7:5). But Jesus knows what will really happen in this city. There is even a subtle Johannine play on words in 7:8. Jesus will “go up” (Gk. anabaino) to Jerusalem; in 20:17 anabaino is used again to describe the ascension. In the autumn of his final year Jesus heads south in order to “go up”—both to the city and to heaven.
I have suggested that the literary outline followed by John in chapters 5–10 is organized around the festivals of Judaism (see comments on ch. 5). Chapter 5 centers on the weekly feast of Sabbath, while chapter 6 is organized around Passover. Jesus appears at these festivals, exploits some feature of their imagery, and launches major discourses in which he identifies himself and his mission through their historic themes.
Jesus’ visit to Jerusalem now at the Feast of Tabernacles (John 7–9) follows this same pattern. Tabernacles was the third of three pilgrimage feasts anchored in the agricultural cycle of Judaism. The first was Passover, which recognized the beginning of the grain harvest in spring. Then came Pentecost, seven weeks later, celebrating the end of the grain harvest. The last one was Tabernacles (also called Booths or Ingathering), which celebrated the autumn harvest of tree and vine. Since the crop in autumn had to be protected, Israelite farmers built temporary shelters in the fields (Heb. sukkoth, hut, booth). Theologically this reminded them of the temporary shelters of the desert wandering; thus the feast was set not simply to praise God for the harvest, but to study the desert period and its meaning (Lev. 23; Deut. 16).
For each of these festivals, Jewish men were required to come to Jerusalem and worship at the temple (cf. Ex. 23:14–17; 34:23; Deut. 16:16), although it is uncertain how rigorously this was observed. The Festival of Tabernacles was observed for seven days and celebrated with numerous sacrifices of bulls, rams, and lambs, building to a climax on Day Seven, when special ceremonies were conducted (which John 7 interprets). No doubt since Jesus’ family was faithful to Jewish law and worship, Jesus likely came to Jerusalem at least three times per year for these celebrations. His instinct to “go up” to the city now fits that pattern.
Since the Festival of Tabernacles takes place in September or October (on the fifteenth day of the Jewish month Tishri), it coincided with other interesting phenomena. People in the ancient world observed the length of days carefully, charting the solstices as well as the fall and spring equinox. Tabernacles coincided with the autumn equinox, when day and night are equal length and from which point on the calendar the nights lengthen and the days become shorter. Jewish ritual practice recognized this “dying of the sun” and incorporated into the festival ceremonies of light to hallmark the passing of the season. Jesus knows this and in the discourse of this feast will exploit images of light to make his point (John 8:12).
In addition, the late autumn was a period of drought in Israel. Strong, drenching rains had not been seen since spring. Cisterns were low. Springs were becoming weak. The hills were barren and parched. The ground could not be renewed without water. Therefore Tabernacles incorporated another set of symbols, depicting a prayer for water to replenish the country agriculturally as well as refresh the land spiritually. In fact, rainfall during Tabernacles was a sign of strong blessing from God in the coming season.2 Jesus likewise knows these images and in the present chapter exploits their themes as well (7:37–39).
To sum up, it is almost impossible to interpret John 7 without some detailed acquaintance with the Jewish Feast of Tabernacles and how it was celebrated in Jerusalem in the first century.3 It was an old festival of agriculture from the ancient Near East that adopted the Israelite story of redemption. To this were added Jewish intertestamental motifs of water and light, and even these the rabbis interpreted spiritually. Tabernacles then blended a variety of images from agriculture (harvest), climate (sun and rain), and theological history (desert wandering). Jesus makes these motifs serve his purposes as he stands in the feast and makes his identity known. John 7 even uses the sequence of the feast as its literary structure:
• The beginning of the Feast (7:1–13)
• The middle of the Feast (7:14–24)
• The last, great day of the Feast (7:37–52)
Threaded through these days are questions posed to Jesus (7:15, 20, 25–26, 35) by leaders and the crowd, who are trying to interpret what Jesus is saying. The chapter also describes a series of reactions to Jesus as people must decide if indeed he is a man to be followed (7:3–5, 12, 30–31, 40–44, 45–49). But there is no doubt that in Jerusalem a storm is brewing, and words of condemnation recur with surprising frequency: Some want to arrest him (7:30, 44) while others want him killed (7:19, 20, 25).
The Beginning of the Festival (7:1–13)
IT HAS BEEN six months since the Passover Festival (John 6), and Jesus has been avoiding Judea because he knows the depth of hostility waiting for him there (7:7). It is not inappropriate to hear cynicism in the encouragement of Jesus’ brothers for him to attend the autumn festival (7:3). They may be reminding him of his religious obligation (despite the danger) or even pushing him to place his messianic identity into full public view. Either way, they do not believe in him (7:5) and do not see in the Jerusalem visit a fruitful disclosure of the truth about him. In another sense they portray precisely the view found in chapter 6. The brothers acknowledge that Jesus can do miracles, but miracles do not necessarily lead to faith (6:25–34). Only God can provide the divine insight needed for a person to comprehend fully the identity of his Son (6:44–46).
This failure to comprehend is represented in yet another way. Throughout this Gospel we have seen how misunderstanding becomes a typical Johannine theme to explain how Jesus’ self-disclosure is beyond the human imagination. When Jesus says that he will not “go up” at the festival, he explains that he cannot because it is not yet his time (7:8). “Going up” in Greek can mean both pilgrimage to Jerusalem (Mark 10:33; John 12:20) or ascension (John 20:17). For him, “going up” is symbolic of his “hour” of betrayal, death, resurrection, and ascension. Thus in 7:30 when they do try to arrest him at the festival, they fail because “his time had not yet come.” Jesus knows that his departure from this world must await the coming Passover in the spring.
Jesus’ brothers, however, take his words at face value. They see things from an earthly perspective and assume that Jesus is simply going to avoid the feast. Jesus intends no deception and attends the feast on his own, keeping his identity as quiet as possible in order to avoid those who would like to harm him. Jesus’ arrival in secrecy is paralleled in the Synoptic Gospels in Mark 9:30, where Jesus moves from Galilee to Judea with limited fanfare. Since the Synoptic picture is severely condensed, John’s story describes more fully how Jesus came to Judea and worked in secret for many months prior to his dramatic Passover entry into the city.
John’s description of the anticipation of the crowd (7:11–13) sets the stage for what is to come. Jesus’ arrival brings controversy and division. The crowd is “whispering” (7:12)—gongysmos, a word that reminds us of 6:41 and the desert grumbling (Ex. 17:3; Num. 11:1).4 In their search for Jesus some from the crowd describe him as “good” while others describe him as a deceiver, a fraud. But overshadowing all is the fear of the common person for the Jewish leaders (not “the Jews” in general), who have decided to kill him. The behavior of the crowd parallels that of Jesus: They will not speak “publicly,” just as Jesus cannot come to Jerusalem publicly. Both Jesus’ appearance and the crowd’s questionings must be done privately.
The Middle of the Festival (7:14–36)
AT THE MIDPOINT of the feast, Jesus enters the temple courts for the first time and teaches publicly. The discourse represented in 7:14–36 follows the pattern already well-established in this Gospel. Questions are launched by Jesus’ listeners that permit him to describe his identity and mission more completely. But the questions do more. They disclose how little his audience really understands (similar to Nicodemus’s questions about rebirth). Buried in each of Jesus’ answers are ironic messages fully beyond the grasp of his listeners. Three scenes are anchored to three questions with three ironic answers:
Scene | Question | Jesus’ response |
One | Where did Jesus go to school? (7:15) | heaven |
Two | Where is this man from? (7:25–27) | heaven |
Three | Where is this man going? (7:35) | heaven |
Scene One (7:14–24). Educational standards for rabbis were well established in the first century. Advanced study under a rabbinic scholar in a school was common (cf. Paul and Gamaliel).5 Jesus possessed no such credentials. The Jewish leaders, in effect, wish to see these (7:15), and Jesus complies by saying that his diplomas are divine (7:16–18). God has taught and commissioned him; God has given him the things he teaches. Moreover, Jesus explains that if their lives are in harmony with God, they will recognize the character and source of his teaching (cf. 5:42ff., where Jesus said that if they had the love of God in their hearts, they would recognize God’s teaching at once). Jesus’ mission is to honor God, to deflect glory from himself, which is also a sign of his authority and veracity (7:18).
Jesus is actually explaining the nature of his religious authority. The Jewish notion of authority (Heb. reshuth) was specialized. No one possessed inherent authority; it was secondary and indirect. Authority was passed down and conferred from rabbi to rabbi through ordination. It was as if the reshuth of Moses was preserved through the generations this way through each successive ordination. If the chain was broken, reshuth might be lost.
Jesus’ problem is that he is not ordained. On whose shoulders, then, is he standing? What traditions are his? Which rabbi has authorized his teaching office? What is the source of his reshuth? Jesus’ answer is clear: His authority stems directly from God (7:14–18; cf. 17:1–2). That is, Jesus answers the rabbis in their own categories, namely, that his authority has been properly conferred to him, but his source of authority is unconventional, to say the least. Therefore Jesus is working and speaking in order to honor this One who sent him, the One who commissioned and equipped him. Unlike a rabbi, Jesus is authorized to speak much like a prophet because he bears the words of God, not religious tradition.
It is clear from 7:19 that the Sabbath debate of chapter 5 still dominates Jesus’ relation with these authorities. In that chapter Jesus healed a crippled man in Jerusalem and instructed him to carry his bed on the Sabbath. Rather than praise him for this miracle, the authorities criticized Jesus for violating religious law. Jesus here returns to his line of argument expressed then (5:39–47): Those who do not keep the law of Moses in its entirety should be reluctant about judging others. It is a variation of the later theme in the story of the adulteress woman: Those who are without sin may cast the first stone (8:7). Moreover, the leaders’ plan to kill Jesus (5:18; 7:19) is a specific violation of the law. On more than one occasion the New Testament reports that some people were so intent on their hostility toward Jesus that they either made plans to kill him (Mark 3:6) or they tried to carry it out (Luke 4:29). The threat here in 7:19 is real: In these months before Passover, Jesus has to be cautious, protecting himself from those who want to assassinate him.
The crowd in 7:20 must be distinguished from the authorities arguing with Jesus in 7:15. Perhaps they have come from Galilee for the feast, but at least we can say that they are astonished by Jesus’ claim and know nothing of an attempt to kill him. “You are demon-possessed” (7:20) likely carries no theological weight6 and can simply be translated, “You’re crazy!”
Jesus now expands his line of reasoning more fully (7:22–24).7 The Sabbath law permitted a ceremony of circumcision if a male child became eight days old on the Sabbath. If a boy can be partially healed on the Sabbath in this context, why should not a man be completely healed on the Sabbath? Jesus argues from the lesser to the greater, using circumcision as a precedent. Jesus sees himself not simply liberalizing the law but fulfilling what the law was meant to do: to bring renewal and redemption to God’s people.8
Seeing that Jesus makes a claim to not only interpret the Sabbath but also to work on the Sabbath (as God does, see ch. 5), the audience opens a new line of questioning that queries the origin of Jesus.
Scene Two (7:25–31). The force of Jesus’ argument with the authorities seems to impress many in the audience who are either residents of the city or pilgrims in Jerusalem for the Feast of Tabernacles. A shift in subject springs from Jesus’ answer in Scene One: If Jesus’ authority to work on the Sabbath indeed comes from God, then Jesus is making a spiritual claim (a messianic claim, 7:26b). And if he can make a spiritual claim, this opens the way to new questions about his origins—his divine origins. Even the failure of the authorities to stop Jesus (7:26a) lends intrigue to the crowd’s observation: Perhaps some of them are reluctant to interfere. Are some of them secretly believing in him?
Once again the ironic misunderstanding of the crowd is displayed by their question in 7:27: “We know where this man is from; when the Christ comes, no one will know where he is from.” In a culture without surnames, the place of origin was a means of personal identification. Jesus son of Joseph “of Nazareth” (1:45) or Joseph “of Arimathea” (19:38) are typical identifiers. The crowd is examining Jesus on an earthly level and think that since they can trace Jesus’ human origins, he is disqualified from messianic status. We possess evidence that many Jews expected the Messiah to appear suddenly, mysteriously, since he would be commissioned supernaturally by God.9 For these Jews, Jesus’ commonplace appearance at the feast disqualifies him completely.
Jesus leaves the confusion unchallenged (7:28–29). If his origin is at issue, he does not deny that he has an identifiable human history (“the Word became flesh,” 1:14) or that he is from a place like Nazareth. He may well think that this speculation about the “hidden Messiah” is unfounded. But Jesus goes on to make his claim more astounding. He has come from God, whom he knows with unparalleled intimacy (cf. Matt. 11:27; Luke 10:22). This is paramount to a divine claim that breaks with all of the canons of Judaism. A Messiah might be powerfully sent by God, but Jesus is claiming to know God and be something of a personal liaison or confidant—a Son!—who now has authority in Jerusalem not by virtue of his education alone (Scene One) but also by virtue of his origins (Scene Two). It is Jesus’ ontological status with the Father that empowers not simply what he does but who he is. As in chapter 5, Jesus says again that the Jews’ inability to comprehend this reality is evidence of their ignorance about God himself (7:28; cf. 5:42).
The episode with the crowd comes to a dramatic climax with a division within their ranks (7:30–31). It is a division we see throughout the Gospel, where some express openness to Jesus (7:31) while others either deny him or attempt to inflict harm (7:12, 32, 44). Some in the crowd try to arrest him for making divine claims, but their efforts are frustrated. Jesus is sovereign over his life and will choose when his time has come (10:17–18; 18:6–8). Luke records a similar attempt at the start of Jesus’ ministry in Nazareth, and once more Jesus could not be apprehended (Luke 4:29–30). Jesus is now waiting for the coming of Passover in the spring, when his arrest and death will have a rich and important theological meaning.
Scene Three (7:32–36). The first two scenes raised ironic earthly questions about Jesus’ schooling and Jesus’ background, both of which found an unexpected answer: heaven. In Scene Three the audience shifts to the chief priests and Pharisees, who show their alignment with half the crowd at once. They enlist police from the temple to arrest Jesus.10 This is a more serious matter than an impulsive attempt by the crowd to do the same (7:30), and no doubt it leads Jesus to think about his death at their hands.
It will only be a “short time” till this occurs (7:33); when it does, Jesus will view his death not as a tragedy but as a departure, a “going away,” in which he returns to the Father (13:3). This departure will put him beyond the world’s reach (7:34) since he will have returned to his glory in heaven (17:5). As in the previous scenes, this statement inspires earthly misunderstanding. The Jewish leadership cynically wonders where Jesus could be going (7:35–36). The only place they will never go is among the Gentiles (the Greeks), so they speculate that Jesus is simply leaving Israel. But Jesus is talking about where they cannot go: heaven. His departure will be a return to God. When this happens, there will be a divine reversal. Up to this point, Jesus has been at work in the world, searching for those who believe. Once he departs, once God’s revelation is withdrawn, they will do the searching (7:36), trying to find what they have tragically missed.11
The Last Day of the Festival (7:37–52)
EACH DAY OF the feast witnessed a water ceremony in which a procession of priests descended to the south border of the city to the Gihon Spring (which flowed into the Pool of Siloam).12 There a priest filled a golden pitcher as a choir chanted Isaiah 12:3: “With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.” The water was then carried back up the hill to the “Water Gate,” followed by crowds carrying a lulab in the right hand (tree branches reminiscent of the desert booths) and an ethrog in the left hand (citrus branches reminiscent of the harvest).13 The crowd would shake these and sing Psalms 113–118. When the procession arrived at the temple, the priest would climb the altar steps and pour the water onto the altar while the crowd circled him and continued singing. On the seventh day of the festival, this procession took place seven times.
Judaism saw this water ceremony on multiple levels. On the one hand, it was a plea to God for rain since the autumn is a time of threatened drought in Israel. On the other hand, it was a source of rich symbolism. In the desert, God brought water from a rock (Num. 20:8, 10), and here water was flowing from the sacrificial rock altar of the temple. Zechariah and Ezekiel had visions of rivers flowing from the temple in a miraculous display of God’s blessing (Ezek. 47:1; Zech. 14:8). In a drought-stricken land, it was a spectacular vision of water, life-giving water flowing from God’s life-giving temple.14
On this final day of celebration, Jesus steps into public view and makes his most stunning pronouncement of the feast. As seven water processions are climbing the steep hill of south Jerusalem, he proclaims, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink.” This announcement parallels symbolically what Jesus did in John 6 at Passover. Just as earthly bread led to memories of heavenly bread (manna), which concluded with Jesus offering himself as the bread of life (6:35), so now Jesus is doing the same. Needed rainfall and water ceremonies lead to memories of miraculous desert water, water given from heaven, which concludes with Jesus’ offering himself as the source of the water of life.
The punctuation of 7:37–38 has inspired numerous debates among scholars. The NIV follows the tradition of the Eastern Fathers (Origen, Athanasius) and numerous scholars15 who punctuate the verses to make the believer the one in whom the living water is flowing: “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.”16 This view puts a full period after “drink” and makes the participle (“whoever believes”) the subject of the Scripture citation.
A second Western or Christological punctuation views Christ as the source of the living water and enjoys not only the support of antiquity (Justin, Hippolytus, Tertullian, Irenaeus) but contemporary scholars as well.17 “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me. And let him drink—who believes in me. As the scripture has said, ‘Streams of living water will flow from within him.’ ” This view interprets the participle (the believer) as the one who drinks. The Scripture citation now stands on its own with Christ as the source of living water. A superior translation reflecting the nuances of the Greek might read: “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me—and if he believes, let him drink. As the Scripture has said, ‘Streams of living water will flow from his belly.’ ”18
It is important not to gloss over the importance of this punctuation debate, for the theology of the entire chapter depends on it. The second Christological view is compelling for a number of reasons. Not only is it grammatically defensible, but theologically it fits the literary setting of both John 6 and 7, wherein Jesus supplies the spiritual gifts promised in the festival. We have already seen how Jesus is the new temple in John’s theology (see 2:21), and just as Jewish eschatology predicted the temple to be the dramatic source of water (displayed in the water ritual), so now Jesus is announcing himself as a replacement for the temple once again. Those seeking eschatological water need to look no further. Jesus is the source of Zechariah’s fountain. Jesus is the source for what Tabernacles seeks.
Another difficulty in this passage is the Scripture citation in 7:38, but here too the Christological interpretation assists us. This quote does not appear in the Old Testament (either the LXX or the Hebrew text), and most scholars believe we have a composite quotation describing visions of the coming blessings of the messianic age (Isa. 43:19; 44:3; Ezek. 47:1–11; Zech. 14:8). John also has in mind the desert water image of the rock struck by Moses at Meribah to feed the Israelites and their flocks (Num. 20:2–13).
This theme was popular in Judaism (Ps. 78:15–16; 105:40–41; Isa. 43:20; 48:21) and symbolized how God miraculously can reverse the threats of drought and disaster. It comes as no surprise that Paul identifies Jesus with this rock: “They . . . drank the same spiritual drink; for they drank from the spiritual rock that accompanied them, and that rock was Christ” (1 Cor. 10:4, italics added).19 At the Feast of Tabernacles, then, Jesus is saying he is not only the new temple and source of living water, but also the eschatological rock that, when struck, will yield life-giving water. Is it any surprise that when Jesus is struck on the cross with a spear (as Moses struck the rock with his staff), his “belly” (lit. trans. of koilia in 7:37b) yields blood and water (19:34)?
John’s theological comment in 7:39 is likewise critically important. (1) He explains that Jesus was referring to the Holy Spirit in this pronouncement. This links with a standard Jewish interpretation of the Feast of Tabernacles, well-attested in our sources. The rabbis did not merely see the ceremonies as a literal plea for rain, but as a plea for eschatological blessing as well. The water of Zechariah 14 was viewed as a promise of the Holy Spirit.20
(2) This gift of the Spirit is not available during Jesus’ earthly ministry. It must await his “glorification” in order to be distributed. By this John is referring to Jesus’ death and resurrection, subjects that will be closely linked in Jesus’ Farewell Discourse (John 13–16). The Spirit, then, is closely tied to Jesus’ life (and death), and as we watch the Passion story unfold, we will do well to observe how the Spirit becomes a signal feature of Jesus’ departure from the world and return to the Father.
The ample allusions to Moses’ activity in the desert both here and at Passover lead the crowd to the same result: This Jesus may be the prophet-like-Moses anticipated from Deuteronomy 18:15. Others simply refer to him as the Messiah (“Christ” in 7:40–41), but this at once stumbles on the same line of questions in 7:41–42. At the middle of the feast, Jews who viewed the Messiah as “hidden” spoke their objections to Jesus (7:27). Now we meet Jews who hold that the Messiah will fulfill prophecy, descend from David, and be born in Bethlehem. The crowd only knows that Jesus is from Galilee, and if the prophetic fulfillment is important, Jesus is disqualified (7:41–42).
But this is misunderstanding at work once again. John knows (and assumes his audience knows) that Jesus was born in Bethlehem. Thus, once more knowledge about Jesus is just out of reach of those tying to grasp it. The result parallels the previous Tabernacles section: The crowd divides into those who are potential believers and those who wish to harm Jesus. But they cannot determine the hour of Jesus’ arrest (only Jesus can), and so they do not lay a hand on him.
The complete frustration of the Sanhedrin and the erosion of opposition to Jesus becomes clear in 7:45–52. Even the temple police are impressed with Jesus (7:46)—to such a degree that they fail in their assignment to arrest him. Nicodemus, a member of their body, speaks up in Jesus’ defense, urging caution and fair play (7:51; cf. Gamaliel a few years later, Acts 5:34–39). But Jesus’ primary opponents are those in political and religious leadership in Jerusalem’s high council. Their contempt for the masses is well-established in Jewish sources where the peasantry, uneducated in the law, were not considered truly pious since through their ignorance, they could not possibly keep the law (m. P. Aboth 2:6; 1QS 10:19–21). The irony, of course, is that these are the very people who seem to have the only hunch about Jesus’ true identity.
The Sanhedrin’s objection that Jesus cannot be a prophet since he has come from Galilee is outlandish and unfounded. Their call to investigate the matter (7:52) is a challenge to search the Scriptures, but remarkably, two prophets, Jonah and Nahum, came from this very place. These words mirror the parallel discussion in 5:39–47, where Jesus describes their “search” for the Scriptures and how these Scriptures will judge their readers. According to Rabbi Eliezer (about A.D. 90), no tribe of Israel failed to produce a prophet at some time (b. Sukkah 27b)!
Two important Greek manuscripts (P66 and P75), however, provide an alternative reading. These texts read, “The prophet does not come out of Galilee.” The addition of this definite article suggests that it is not any prophet that the Sanhedrin meant, but “the prophet-like-Moses” described earlier in 7:40. Later Christian scribes could have easily misread an ancient original and omitted the article (a mere ‘o’).21 If the article is retained, the sharp irony of 7:42 is sustained even to Jerusalem’s leaders.22
Bridging Contexts
THE TRIAL CONTINUES. The theological substance of chapter 7 must be read together with chapter 5 since one simply carries on the debate of the other. Jesus healed a crippled man in Jerusalem; now on his subsequent visit to the city, further rumors and accusations are being attached to Jesus’ name.23 As I mentioned in my discussion of chapter 5, these narratives in John are conscious of the “trial” of Jesus that will come up later in the story. Indeed a “trial motif” seems to shape how these stories are told: Jesus’ crime is described (healing on the Sabbath), his accusers speak up (generally the religious leadership), evidence for and against Jesus is provided (his authority, his origins, witnesses for his case), and a decision must be made.
John 7 concentrates on the final aspect of this “trial” scenario. The three major sections of the chapter (7:1–13, 14–36, 37–52) each conclude with a divided audience: At the beginning of the feast, some say that Jesus is a good man while others call him deceptive; at the middle of the feast, some put their faith in him while others try to seize him; and at the end of the feast, the crowds split into those who are receptive (“He is the Christ,” 7:41a) and those who are not (“How can the Christ come from Galilee?” 7:41b), in the same way that the religious leaders experience a parallel division—the guards and Nicodemus express interest and respect for Jesus while the Pharisees utter curses (7:49). No doubt it is this latter group (the Pharisees and their colleagues) whose shadow looms large over the chapter. Verse 13 says clearly that everyone is afraid of them, a fear that limits the public freedom to speak openly about Jesus.
As I suggested in chapter 5, these chapters are not only portraits of Jesus’ trial in history, but a window into the struggles and experiences of John’s church. John’s understanding of what he experienced in his world was shaped by his understanding of what had happened to Jesus. Jesus himself had promised, “If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first” (15:18). At the end of his life Jesus prayed to God, “I have given them your word and the world has hated them, for they are not of the world any more than I am of the world” (17:14). Jesus’ life was a model of Christian proclamation and rejection.24 The truth of Jesus split any audience (Jesus’ or John’s) into those who believed and those who refused to believe. As John penned these chapters, he stylized them in a manner that created literary (and theological) characters that played the same role on the Johannine church stage.
As I try to look at this narrative and cull from its words a message for my context, I see something similar: Jesus is on trial in my world as well. As it was in Jerusalem, so today audiences will be divided. Some appear open and receptive, others appear cynical and hostile. Moreover, there is also the specter of fear: Just as the earliest crowds around Jesus were alert to the judgments of those in power, so too audiences today assess the risks of publicly identifying with Jesus. The tone of these early Gospel debates is severe, and this too should enter into the equation that will surround our understanding of Jesus’ trial. John did not expect, nor should we, that the debate about Jesus will always be civil. John 7 portrays a struggle for ultimate religious commitments; in this debate passions can run furiously high. In particular we gain in this chapter a profile of religious leadership in Jerusalem that is vehemently opposed to Jesus and willing to employ any resources at its disposal to dispense with him.
Individuals in the crowd. Not only does John introduce the notion of division into the story, but the literary drama of John 7 also analyzes the role of individuals in the crowd. No doubt as John looked at his world (just as we look at our own), there were discernible players who always stepped to center stage. As he forges his narrative, he understands too that the same “types” played on the stage of Jesus during his earthly ministry. Among the crowds, there are those who are simply curious (7:14, 25–26, 41–42) while others are open and receptive, willing to exhibit faith (7:12, 26–27, 31, 40–41, 46). Still others in the crowd are openly antagonistic (7:3, 13, 20, 30, 44). The Jewish leadership becomes a cast of its own: Some express anger (7:15, 47–48, 52) and want to arrest him (7:32); others are simply ignorant (7:35). One man, Nicodemus, stands out as genuinely open (7:51).
All of this invites interesting questions about the actors in our world, indeed the actors in our own churches. In John 6 we saw that it was not simply the crowds who stumbled over Jesus’ deeper teachings, but his followers too. How are these roles being played today?
The Spirit. Finally, Jesus has made a profound theological statement in this festival. In my comments I explained how at the Feast of Tabernacles Jewish symbols of water were spiritualized to include expectations of the Holy Spirit. John 7:39 makes the symbolism of Jesus’ language plain: He was speaking about the Spirit, but the Spirit had not yet been given because Jesus had not yet been glorified. In the theology of this Gospel it is important to understand when Jesus is glorified and from this moment interpret the coming of the Spirit. John is intentionally linking Jesus and the Spirit in order to give us a precise understanding of the origin of the Spirit and his relation to Christ.
It is also significant that in the midst of Jesus’ most severe debate thus far, he offers the very thing his antagonists expect least. His religious opponents express themselves in all their shrill excitement at the end of the chapter. What do they want? At the very least they want Jesus to conform to their understanding of religious observance. But in doing so he must relinquish his claims to privileged status with God. He must deny that he is the Christ and make himself less offensive. He must shape himself to fit under their leadership. Instead Jesus increases the offense. He offers himself as the eschatological temple of the end of time and aggravates them further. Rather than promote a religious experience with God that catalogues obedience to law, he offers the Spirit—a gift of sheer unexpected immediacy with God. Jesus offers the tools of mysticism among those who cannot see beyond their own strident legalism.
Contemporary Significance
QUESTIONS CHRISTIANS SHOULD ASK. A teacher or preacher working with John 7 has to make a fundamental decision. Once I understand the nature of the conflict Jesus has with the Jerusalem authorities and the theological nuances of the Tabernacles symbolism, I have to decide where I stand on this Johannine stage. Do I see myself standing with Jesus (and those who are persecuted), or is it truer to admit that I stand with Jesus’ opponents? John penned this story not simply to record one of Jesus’ visits. He is conveying meaning to readers in the Christian church, many of whom were his own followers.
Virtually every commentator assumes that this passage recounts the conflicts of Jesus in order to encourage those who likewise experience trial and persecution. We thus become bearers of the Light, allies of Jesus, and spokespersons for God. In some cases this is a true reading of the story. There are many times when I suffer as Jesus suffered, and Jesus promises that we will have such experiences (“If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also,” 15:20).
But there may be another message, a more difficult message, that we are reluctant to see. Just as Jesus’ followers argued with him concerning his words and mission in John 6, so too John 7 provides another scenario about religious debate. Can Christians become religious debaters? Can they ever oppose a new thing God may be doing? Are they genuinely affected by the sinful impulses that permeate the audiences in John 7? John understands that even those who claim to believe in Jesus sometimes choose to reject his word and deny him his way (6:66). As an interpreter bringing this passage to my generation, I have to wrestle with the sobering truth of this possibility and its implications.
Standing with Jesus. The most obvious application of John 7 has to do with the reactions of the world to the revelation of Jesus Christ. Again and again throughout this Gospel John has emphasized the difficulty and unwillingness of the public to accept what God is doing in Christ. In the prologue to this Gospel we learned about the rejection of the Word in the world (“The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it,” 1:5) and his rejection among his own people (“He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him,” 1:11). Now for seven chapters we have witnessed how Jesus enters as “light in darkness,” revealing the condition of the human heart.
John 3:19 describes this invasion of light as a type of judgment: Light penetrates darkness and unveils what is hidden there. But those who love darkness will hate the light and struggle against it. Similarly here in John 7 we read about Jesus in Jerusalem among his own people, struggling for recognition, being battered by questions, and in the end, being condemned by those who are experts in theology.
In this respect it is naive for Christians to think that the “good news” of the Gospel is going to enjoy a warm reception when it is given in the world. It is naive to think that if people simply understand the truth correctly, if they have the message of Christ fully explained, or if they meet a “true” Christian, they will be converted. It is presumptuous to think that the world is an eager, receptive vessel waiting to be filled by the presence of God. The world is in rebellion. It is skilled at asking religious questions and feigning spiritual interest, but such inquiries are nothing more than disguised, sophisticated rebellion. Is this man from Galilee? Where did this man get all this learning? Isn’t the Messiah supposed to arrive mysteriously? Why doesn’t he show himself to the world?
Jesus fields such questions in this chapter just as he has been interrogated throughout the centuries by men and women eager to engage in religious dialogue but reluctant to meet God. John’s cosmology is strictly dualistic: There is darkness and there is light, the above and the below, truth and falsehood, God and Satan. As Jesus moves through the world, he unmasks the opposition wherever it is hiding.
There are, however, men and women in whom God is moving, who have had the courage to step near the light, to probe its truth, and to question the reality of the darkness—men and women who confess their ignorance, sin, and willfulness, with God’s help (6:65). They are potential saboteurs on the world’s stage, willing to pry open uncomfortable questions. But isn’t he a good man? Have the authorities concluded that he is the Christ? Should we put our faith in him? Have you ever heard a man speak like this? Doesn’t our law expect us to provide every man with a just hearing? Jesus surely hears their voices and knows that they are allies, witnesses to his cause, fledgling believers (no matter how feeble, 8:31).
When the gospel is preached in the world, Jesus goes on trial. Every hearer must choose which voice he or she will embrace, which “side” he or she will choose, for there is no middle place. Will our voice be filled with anger? cynicism? fear of the authorities? shame? courage? I am convinced that we really do not know what voice is ours until there is risk involved in speaking up. As soon as the opponents of Jesus express their will—and John 7 is filled with hints of conflict and violence—the crowd must decide if their faith is stronger than their fear.
Standing against Jesus. But there is a deeper motif here that haunts this chapter. It is not simply the world in all of its pagan self-indulgence that settles in as Jesus’ great opponent. It is religious authority, spiritual experts hailing from the most religious city in the Bible, who stand militantly before him. We see this in chapter 1 when a delegation from Jerusalem arrives to question John the Baptist. We also see it in chapter 3 when Nicodemus talks to him at night. We observe this in chapter 5 when religious leadership try to disqualify Jesus on the grounds that he does not understand or respect God’s will (concerning the Sabbath). Here at Tabernacles (which continues through ch. 8) the leadership’s unrestrained contempt for Jesus shows itself in all its fury.
Just as there is a worldly opposition to Jesus, there is likewise a “religious” opposition to Jesus. What does this opposition mean? As a Christian interpreter do I simply leave this conflict on the first-century horizon and record for posterity the opposition of the temple to Jesus? Or is the malady deeper? Does the religious reflex that came alive in the temple—a reflex that builds and preserves religion, that weighs obedience to its statutes, that finds quibbling ways to dissect fidelity to its mission—does this reflex ever come alive in the church? Does Jesus ever go on trial in the church? Are we exempt from dark religious reflexes?
If the synagogues and the temple were eager to interrogate him, would we do the same if he came and challenged our dearly held assumptions about religious commitments and ceremonies and faith? We assume that since we are Christians, since we possess the “light,” since we confess our creeds and trumpet our testimonies, there is no possibility of religious antagonism against any who would speak a prophetic word. But we are naive as well if we think we cannot be counted among the temple authorities.
The first time I reflected on this reading of the New Testament came when I read Karl Barth’s famous commentary on Romans.25 His comments on Romans 1–3 bore a power that completely amazed a generation of theologians following World War I. Today I assign this volume to undergraduate students, and they stand amazed again. Barth describes with sweeping authority the nature of sinful rebellion that permeates pagans and Christians alike (many of whom participated in the horrors of World War I).
But the most interesting exegetical decision Barth makes is his refusal to leave the historic religious position of Judaism something unique to the synagogue. The religious person who boasts (Rom. 2:17) is both a Jew and a Christian, each of whom have the capacity to build religious systems—houses of worship, colleges, seminaries, mission agencies—that promote a fallen human agenda rather than an agenda of God. These are people who can argue with God about theology! So I ask, should I be reading John 7 as Barth read Romans 2?
Standing in contrast to the arguments about law and religion is Jesus’ promise of the Holy Spirit (7:37–39).26 While religious officials are debating Jesus’ alleged disrespect for the Sabbath, the proper meaning of messianic fulfillment, the preservation of tradition, and the correct venue for judgment, Jesus is talking about the Spirit. Ironically, this Spirit will not be released until Jesus is glorified (7:39), until the authorities have their way with him and he is killed.
Jesus is offering a spiritual mysticism and encounter with God that always makes the custodians of traditional religion nervous. This can be especially true in those tightly drawn circles of conservative theology that seem impenetrable. To propose new freedom, new spontaneity, new thought—that is, to step outside the canons of orthodox behavior or thinking—is to experience what Jesus experienced at the Feast of Tabernacles.