WHEN JESUS SPOKE again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”
13The Pharisees challenged him, “Here you are, appearing as your own witness; your testimony is not valid.”
14Jesus answered, “Even if I testify on my own behalf, my testimony is valid, for I know where I came from and where I am going. But you have no idea where I come from or where I am going. 15You judge by human standards; I pass judgment on no one. 16But if I do judge, my decisions are right, because I am not alone. I stand with the Father, who sent me. 17In your own Law it is written that the testimony of two men is valid. 18I am one who testifies for myself; my other witness is the Father, who sent me.”
19Then they asked him, “Where is your father?”
“You do not know me or my Father,” Jesus replied. “If you knew me, you would know my Father also.” 20He spoke these words while teaching in the temple area near the place where the offerings were put. Yet no one seized him, because his time had not yet come.
21Once more Jesus said to them, “I am going away, and you will look for me, and you will die in your sin. Where I go, you cannot come.”
22This made the Jews ask, “Will he kill himself? Is that why he says, ‘Where I go, you cannot come’?”
23But he continued, “You are from below; I am from above. You are of this world; I am not of this world. 24I told you that you would die in your sins; if you do not believe that I am the one I claim to be, you will indeed die in your sins.”
25“Who are you?” they asked.
“Just what I have been claiming all along,” Jesus replied. 26“I have much to say in judgment of you. But he who sent me is reliable, and what I have heard from him I tell the world.”
27They did not understand that he was telling them about his Father. 28So Jesus said, “When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am the one I claim to be and that I do nothing on my own but speak just what the Father has taught me. 29The one who sent me is with me; he has not left me alone, for I always do what pleases him.” 30Even as he spoke, many put their faith in him.
31To the Jews who had believed him, Jesus said, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. 32Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”
33They answered him, “We are Abraham’s descendants and have never been slaves of anyone. How can you say that we shall be set free?”
34Jesus replied, “I tell you the truth, everyone who sins is a slave to sin. 35Now a slave has no permanent place in the family, but a son belongs to it forever. 36So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. 37I know you are Abraham’s descendants. Yet you are ready to kill me, because you have no room for my word. 38I am telling you what I have seen in the Father’s presence, and you do what you have heard from your father.”
39“Abraham is our father,” they answered.
“If you were Abraham’s children,” said Jesus, “then you would do the things Abraham did. 40As it is, you are determined to kill me, a man who has told you the truth that I heard from God. Abraham did not do such things. 41You are doing the things your own father does.”
“We are not illegitimate children,” they protested. “The only Father we have is God himself.”
42Jesus said to them, “If God were your Father, you would love me, for I came from God and now am here. I have not come on my own; but he sent me. 43Why is my language not clear to you? Because you are unable to hear what I say. 44You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father’s desire. He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies. 45Yet because I tell the truth, you do not believe me! 46Can any of you prove me guilty of sin? If I am telling the truth, why don’t you believe me? 47He who belongs to God hears what God says. The reason you do not hear is that you do not belong to God.”
48The Jews answered him, “Aren’t we right in saying that you are a Samaritan and demon-possessed?”
49“I am not possessed by a demon,” said Jesus, “but I honor my Father and you dishonor me. 50I am not seeking glory for myself; but there is one who seeks it, and he is the judge. 51I tell you the truth, if anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.”
52At this the Jews exclaimed, “Now we know that you are demon-possessed! Abraham died and so did the prophets, yet you say that if anyone keeps your word, he will never taste death. 53Are you greater than our father Abraham? He died, and so did the prophets. Who do you think you are?”
54Jesus replied, “If I glorify myself, my glory means nothing. My Father, whom you claim as your God, is the one who glorifies me. 55Though you do not know him, I know him. If I said I did not, I would be a liar like you, but I do know him and keep his word. 56Your father Abraham rejoiced at the thought of seeing my day; he saw it and was glad.”
57“You are not yet fifty years old,” the Jews said to him, “and you have seen Abraham!”
58“I tell you the truth,” Jesus answered, “before Abraham was born, I am!” 59At this, they picked up stones to stone him, but Jesus hid himself, slipping away from the temple grounds.
Original Meaning
ANY ANALYSIS OF John 8:12–59 must begin with a reminder of its setting. The story of the woman caught in adultery is an interruption to Jesus’ Tabernacles discourse (see comments on 7:53–8:11). Thus, we must link 7:52 with 8:12 in order to continue the themes of this festival. Earlier we observed how the discourse is advanced through a series of questions and reactions that follow the progress of the festival from its beginning (7:1–13), to its middle (7:14–36), and to its final, great day of celebration (7:37–52). On this final day Jesus has just made a tremendously important announcement about himself (7:37–39): He is the source of the living water that Tabernacles promises through its symbolic rituals. Just as Jesus had done on Sabbath (ch. 5) and Passover (ch. 6), so here he takes up images from the Jewish celebration and uses them in order to make clearer his identity as the Messiah and God’s Son.
Thus, when we turn to 8:12, Jesus is still at the Festival of Tabernacles and is likely still standing in the temple on the final day.1 Religious motifs from that final day of the feast will continue informing what we find in 8:12–59. Just as water is an important image at Tabernacles, light likewise plays an important role, which is precisely Jesus’ theme in 8:12.
Moreover, 8:12–59 forms an important unity with chapter 9. The setting of the Feast of Tabernacles is also presupposed in that chapter. In 8:12 Jesus announces that he is the light of the world; then in the very next chapter he prophetically plays out that message by giving light to a blind man. A man who once lived in darkness experiences divine light, and (ironically) those who claim to possess the light (the Pharisees) are told that they live in darkness.
“I Am the Light of the World!” (8:12–20)
THIS IS JESUS’ second “I am” saying that is followed by a predicate: “I am the light of the world.”2 Tabernacles occurred in the late autumn and celebrated the harvest of tree and vine (see comments on ch. 7). In addition to the water ceremonies (which recalled the need for water in the dry autumn), the calendar also marked the passing of the long summer days. The autumn equinox (where night and day are of equal length) provided the context for a light ceremony that was popular in Jerusalem and orchestrated during Tabernacles.
Zechariah 14 sets the theological context for both ceremonies: In the Day of the Lord not only will there be abundant water flowing from Jerusalem, but that day “will be a unique day, without daytime or nighttime—a day known to the LORD. When evening comes, there will be light” (Zech. 14:7). The imagery also pulls from the desert stories of water flowing from the rock and the pillar of fire and light that guided Israel for so many years (Ex. 13:21–22; Num. 14:14). Thus, Tabernacles witnesses the converging of multiple motifs; harvest, drought, the coming winter darkness, desert wandering, and eschatological vision all merge in the temple ceremonies.
The Mishnah chapter on Tabernacles (Sukkah) provides lavish descriptions of both the water and light ceremonies and explains that whoever has not seen these things has never seen a wonder in his or her life! Four large stands each held four golden bowls; these were placed in the heavily-used Court of the Women.3 These sixteen golden bowls (reached by ladders) were filled with oil and used the worn undergarments of the priests for wicks (m. Sukkah 5). When they were lit at night (so the rabbis said), all Jerusalem was illumined.4 In a world that did not have public lighting after dusk, this light shining from Jerusalem’s yellow limestone walls must have been spectacular. Choirs of Levites would sing during the lighting while “men of piety and good works” danced in the streets, carrying torches and singing hymns.
On this final day of Tabernacles, Jesus is teaching in the treasury (8:20) located within the Court of the Women (so that men and women could give offerings, cf. Mark 12:41). Imagine the scene! In the very court where the lighting ceremony takes place, Jesus stands beneath sixteen lit bowls of oil and says that he is not only the true light of Jerusalem, but of the whole world!
The spiritual use of “light” was common throughout the ancient world. Parallels are available from Judaism, the Old Testament, Qumran, Hellenistic religions, and later gnostic writings. However, Jesus’ use here—and the entire scene we have just built—is thoroughly Jewish. Jesus is referring to the countless times that God’s saving work in the world is described as “light.”5 John 1:5 reflects this tradition, “The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not overcome it” (cf. NIV note). God’s first creation was light (Gen. 1:3). God even led the Israelites in the desert with light (Ex. 13:21–22; Ps. 78:14), and they were taught to sing, “The LORD is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear?” (Ps. 27:1). God’s wisdom given to the world is thus a light that illumines his people (Prov. 8:22). Hence, Psalm 119:105: “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.” In rabbinic Judaism, this light was defined further as God’s Word (Torah), which guides and provides wisdom through study.
Since in John’s Gospel Jesus is the realization or incarnation of God’s own presence in the world, it is not surprising that “light” is used to describe the work of Christ sixteen times. Even the Johannine letters use it. “God is light; in him there is no darkness at all” (1 John 1:5). If Jesus is the light, walking “in the light” is a description of discipleship (1:7).
Jesus’ self-reference as light guiding people through darkness (as the pillar of light guided the Israelites in the desert) is quickly challenged (8:13–19). The Pharisees’ argument in 8:13 echoes what occurred during Jesus’ last visit to Jerusalem in chapter 5, when he referred to the legal qualifications of judicial witnesses, “If I testify about myself, my testimony is not valid” (5:31). The Jewish law required more than one witness to validate any testimony (Deut. 17:6; 19:15; Matt. 18:16; 2 Cor. 13:1; m. Ketuboth 2:9). Jesus knows this law (John 8:17). Unfortunately his opponents have forgotten that in the earlier Jerusalem debate, Jesus showed that there were ample witnesses verifying his claim: John the Baptist (5:33), his miraculous works (5:36), the Father (5:37), and even the Scriptures (5:39). Now Jesus must repeat again that his Father is a second witness (8:18).
But something important has now been added. Jesus would hardly say that whenever he speaks alone his words are invalid, as if they must be weighed by the double-witness judicial rule. This is what it means to judge “by human standards” (Gk. kata sarka, lit., “according to the flesh,” 8:15a). Jesus does not judge in this manner (8:15b),6 and he encourages others likewise: “Stop judging by mere appearances, and make a right judgment” (7:24). Jesus’ judgment is true, and his words are true, not because of their inherent persuasiveness, but because of their origins (8:16b). This is the new unexpected authority behind Jesus’ testimony.
Those who judge by worldly standards cannot understand this (see 2 Cor. 5:16).7 Jesus comes from the Father. He does not speak on his own authority but is echoing what the Father has told him to say (John 3:34; 14:10, 24; 17:8, 14). The root problem with Jesus’ opponents, then, is that they do not know the Father (8:19). They are incapable of having true spiritual discernment because they do not know the source of all spirituality, God himself. This criticism is the same one we heard in 5:42 during Jesus’ last visit to the temple. Without a deep knowledge of God and his love, it is impossible to recognize his Son.
This interchange takes place in the “temple area near the place where the offerings were put” (8:20a), that is, in the Court of the Women. There were thirteen money chests built in the shape of a shofar (a ram’s horn, 1 Chron. 25:5) in this court, each indicating how the money was going to be spent (m. Shekalim 2:1; 6:1, 5). In Mark 12:41–44 these are the receptacles that the widow uses to deposit two small copper coins. John goes on to remark that Jesus is not seized by the Pharisees at this time (John 8:20b), not because they are suddenly content with his answers, but because his “time had not yet come.” The hour of Jesus’ departure will include his capture and arrest, but only he himself determines when it will occur (2:4; 7:30; 8:20; 12:23).
“I Am Going Away!” (8:21–30)
THERE ARE NUMEROUS parallels between this section of the discourse and 7:25–36. The question of Jesus’ origins remains at the center of the discussion. Jesus will depart eventually to return where he came from (cf. 7:33b and 8:21a), and even though many will look for him (7:34a; 8:21a), they will not be able to come (7:34b; 8:21c). This leads to remarkable misunderstandings. In chapter 7 the Jewish leadership concluded that Jesus must be going to the Gentiles since such a journey would be prohibited to orthodox Jews. There is an ironic truth here because this is precisely where Jesus’ ministry eventually leads (through the work of evangelists like John and his church). Here in chapter 8, the crowd concludes that Jesus must be going to his death—a departure they would prefer to avoid for themselves. Here is another ironic truth: Jesus will indeed die, and this departure will be a return to his Father in heaven.
Jesus’ answer in 8:23–29 provides a critical insight into his identity and his incomprehensibility before his listeners. It also explains the urgency of humanity’s condition: Once Jesus departs, once the opportunity to hear him and believe in him is gone, the world is lost. “You will die in your sins—unless you believe that I am” (8:24, pers. trans.). The crowd naturally asks, as it were, “You are—what?” (8:25).
But the crowd misses the point altogether. It is God’s divine name (“I am”) that they cannot understand since they are “from below,” since they judge “according to the flesh.” Jesus is not simply a prophet with divine things to communicate, but he bears divinity in himself. He is not a man with religious insight (from below, from the world), but God’s Son (from above, from heaven). This prompts his audience to ask its most important question. Not: “What do you mean?” But: “Who are you?” (8:25). It is Jesus’ divine identity, his mysterious divine incarnation that makes everything about him important. But, John indicates, this sort of insight is beyond their grasp (8:27).
The supreme moment of revelation is when Jesus is “lifted up” (8:28), which is not merely the cross, but the series of events that lead to his glorification: betrayal, trial, crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension. Through these events, the world will see not that Jesus is simply telling the truth (NIV), but that he is the bearer of God’s divine name (“I am”). “When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am.” Again, 8:28 leaves off the predicate, making Jesus’ audience wonder and marvel at the amazing claims he is making.
In the Synoptic Gospels there are three instances when Jesus specifically predicts his coming death in Jerusalem (Mark 8:31; 9:31; 10:33–34). In Mark’s arrangement, Jesus is moving closer and closer to Jerusalem as he describes the doom that awaits him. His disciples, on the other hand, express increasing incomprehension, denial, and fear that Jesus will actually die and that they too may suffer. The Fourth Gospel parallels this with three statements about the “lifting up of the Son of Man” (3:14; 8:28; 12:33–34); in each we see John emphasize how it is God’s sovereign will that determines his Son’s fate (“so the Son of Man must be lifted up,” 3:14 and 12:34; “I do nothing on my own,” 8:28b; “the one who sent me is with me,” 8:29). Jesus’ remarkable sense of the Father’s presence, even as he describes the cross that awaits him, is linked to his perfect obedience to God’s will: “I always do what pleases him.”
The faith of some of the Jews in his audience (8:30) provides an interesting counterpoint to what we learned in 8:20. In the first section (8:12–20) the discussion concludes with speculation about Jesus’ capture. Now we have a description of some who believe. These two reactions parallel what we observed elsewhere in the Gospel where Jesus’ audience divides: Some completely oppose him while others are receptive and welcoming. Nevertheless (as the next section shows) those who believe may find difficulty once Jesus’ full identity is disclosed.
Spiritual Ancestry (8:31–59)
THE DISCUSSION NOW moves on to address those “who had believed” (8:31). Yet as the story unfolds, it is evident that despite their interest in Jesus, they are unwilling to accept the deeper truths about him. In fact, this audience becomes the very audience that launches the most severe criticisms of Jesus in the entire Gospel. In the end they argue that Jesus is demon-possessed. And Jesus even says that rather than acting like children of Abraham, they are behaving like children of the devil.
This recalls the close of chapter 6 when the believing disciples of Jesus, confronted with the truth of his personhood, stumble, yet declare that they must remain with him: “To whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Now Jewish “believers” who are not his disciples stumble as well; but in the end, they repudiate Jesus and even try to kill him (8:59). This is a deep irony, and we can see here the division sharpening as Jesus and his opponents stand against each other. The section opens with a surprising declaration of belief, but it ends with an attempt on Jesus’ life. True discipleship is tested with “if you hold to my teaching” (8:31b). It may be one thing to follow a Jesus whom we have engineered in our religious consciousness; it is quite another to stay with Jesus when he discloses who he really is.
This section of the discourse carries features that we have seen in the other discourses most clearly: The failure of Jesus’ audience to perceive his true identity leads to acute misunderstandings; however, these misunderstandings become opportunities for Jesus to clarify his position and press his hearers to deeper levels of discussion. The common thread that holds everything together is the subject of Abraham (8:37, 39, 40, 53, 56, 57, 58), who his true children are, and how they should behave.
In the first round of debate (8:31–41) Jesus challenges a widely held assumption in Judaism. From the earliest chapters of the Old Testament (Gen. 22:17–18; Ps. 105:6) the people of Israel understood the importance of their election. They would be a blessing not only to God but to other nations. However, the sense of obligation and responsibility that this inspired was eventually replaced with feelings of privilege and protection. In the Lazarus parable (Luke 16:24) the Jews expressed shock that a “son of Abraham” could go after death to the place of suffering. John the Baptist announced that God could make “sons of Abraham” out of Judean stones (Matt. 3:7–10). Jesus said that strangers would be seated with Jews in the heavenly banquet (8:11–12). When Jesus said in 23:9, “And do not call anyone on earth ‘father,’ for you have one Father, and he is in heaven,” he was likely referring to the Jewish reflex to find in the Abraham lineage security that simply was not there.8
With its history of slavery and bondage, freedom was a precious treasure among the Jews. Yet, Jesus claims, it is not religious heritage that brings true freedom, but truth (John 8:32). “The truth will set you free.” But to be set free means that there is a bondage from which you need to be freed. This inspires a major objection at once. Jews, of course, had been subject to countless nations’ sovereignty: Egypt, Assyria, Babylon, Persia, Greece, and Rome. But Jesus’ audience is likely referring to spiritual or inward freedom. One can be a slave and nevertheless still be free. At the siege of Masada in A.D. 73, Eleazer the priest boasted to his fellow beleaguered Jews, “Long ago we determined to be slaves to neither the Romans nor anyone else.”9 This was idealism at its best. Similarly, Rabbi Akiba commented that the Jews saw themselves as “sons of the kingdom despite their conquests” (cf. Matt. 8:12).10 Just as in Mark 2:17 those who claimed they were whole did not need a physician, so here those who are free feel they need no deliverance. But they are wrong on both counts.
The captivity, of course, to which Jesus points is a bondage to sin. This is a theme we meet frequently in Paul (Rom. 6:17; 8:2) and in John’s letters (1 John 3:4, 8, 9). Jesus is urging that the more devastating bondage is not to any political power, but to spiritual and moral depravity. He then moves to a parabolic saying about the status of slaves (John 8:35). The Jews consider themselves to be free (sons of Abraham), but in actuality, Jesus insists, they are slaves (of sin). Slaves can be sold and traded. Slaves have no security.
Thus, because they are slaves, their residence in God’s family can be in jeopardy. Hence, sinners who claim to be sons of Abraham may discover that they have lost that which they prize. Lineage from Abraham is a matter of faith, and claims to blood heritage that brings spiritual privilege always stand in question (Gal. 3:6ff.; cf. again Rom. 9:7). Sin ruptures a relationship with God. The “son” who is secure and permanent is likely Jesus himself.11 If the son in such a large household sets a slave free, he will be free indeed (8:36). Imagine, then, if the Son of God sets a slave free. The freedom enjoyed will be indescribable.
Jesus acknowledges that his audience bears the bloodline of Abraham but because of their desire to kill him and their refusal to accept his word, they betray that their lives are not guided by the Father, whose voice Jesus obeys (8:37–38). Blood lineage does not guarantee spiritual lineage. In the Old Testament Abraham had descendants who did not receive his blessing (e.g., Ishmael, Gen. 21). Paul does not miss this parallel to make the same point (Gal. 4:21–31). True Jewishness is inward, not physical and outward (Rom. 2:28–29). Judaism likewise taught that there were features of conduct that gave away “sons of Abraham” (m. Pirke Aboth 5.22, “a good eye, a lowly spirit, a humble mind are the makers of the disciples of Abraham our father”). So here, the unrighteousness of Jesus’ opponents places in question their claim to possess any link with Abraham. Jesus implies that their activity points to another spiritual father (John 8:38b).
“Abraham is our father” (8:39) now sounds hollow, given Jesus’ suggestion that their behavior (8:40) can undermine their claim to heritage. For a second time Jesus’ refers to “your own father,” as if to suggest he knows the lineage that controls them (8:41). But as the argument unfolds Jesus’ opponents see clearly where he is leading. Without Abraham, they cannot belong to God’s people. “We are not illegitimate children” is now a defense and an attack. “We” is emphatic and implies comparison: We are not illegitimate (but you certainly are), and some scholars argue for a hint here of speculation about Jesus’ extraordinary origins and its irony. By claiming to have God as Father, Jesus cannot have a human father, which is precisely the argument from the Synoptic nativity stories. Yet illegitimacy was a slur used by Jews against the Samaritans (and visa versa), and this will come up in 8:48 for Jesus.
If Jesus will not permit them Abraham, certainly (they think) he cannot forbid them an appeal to God (8:41b). But even this is rejected. Since Jesus himself has come from God the Father, then if their parentage stemmed from God the Father, they would love the things of Jesus (1 John 5:1). But in fact they do not. The problem is not with the clarity of Jesus, as if he was failing to communicate effectively; the fault rather lies with their role as obedient listeners (John 8:43). They do not “belong to God” (8:47) and are therefore working against his purposes. It is not as if Jesus’ opponents disagree with him; the problem is more essential. Given who they are, they cannot recognize the truth, the Father, or anyone sent from the Father speaking the truth. The problem is not necessarily intellectual, but spiritual.
The climax of these implications is finally given in 8:44. His opponents’ desire to kill Jesus unmasks the true nature of their spiritual ancestry: Satan. The murder the devil promoted “from the beginning” refers either to Cain and Abel or to the fact that it was through Satan’s work that death came into the world, making him the architect of death (Rom. 5:12–14). This is contrasted with Jesus, the architect of truth (John 1:17; 14:6).
The opponents of Jesus now turn back accusations on him (8:48). If it is true that his opponents are children of the devil, then he must be a Samaritan and demon-possessed. This is a radical dishonoring. (1) “Samaritan” (see comments on John 4) refers to those people living north of Jerusalem near Shechem, who had compromised the purity of their faith. By Jesus’ day, the enmity between Jews and Samaritans was intense (Luke 10:29–37). This slur likely had become a curse, much like “heretic” or “unbeliever,” so Jesus does not even take the time to refute it. (2) The charge of demon-possession is far more serious (cf. also John 7:20; 8:52; 10:20). Rather than seeing God’s work in Jesus, his opponents now point to Satan. Note that this charge appears in the Synoptic Gospels as well, where Jesus considers the glib confusing of God and Satan to be serious and unforgivable (Mark 3:22–27).
Jesus has made numerous absolute claims. He comes from the Father and bears the truth; their inability to see this truth betrays their separation from the Father and his purposes. Is this self-promotion? Is Jesus consumed with his own place? Is this a feature of Satan’s handiwork? Jesus denies this (8:50), but he cannot deny the essential relationship he has with the Father. The Son glorifies the Father and likewise the Father glorifies the Son (cf. 16:14; 17:5). If his opponents cannot understand the truth about Jesus, they cannot understand this either.
Jesus’ original claim centered on freedom and slavery, and objections were voiced vigorously. Now Jesus makes a claim about life and death (8:51–58), and the same reaction results. That Jesus can promise life eternal to those who obey him sets him apart from every spiritual luminary in Judaism, Abraham included. But rather than seeing that Jesus may be pointing to eternal life, the crowd misunderstands him through a material rendering of his meaning. Abraham and the prophets have died and were buried. Is Jesus promising that mortality will be reversed? That he and his followers will not see death?
The force of 8:53 is literally, “What are you making of yourself here?” It is antagonistic and aggressive. But Jesus’ defense is that he is not glorifying himself again; instead, he is faithfully witnessing to his relationship with the Father. Jesus is simply living in fidelity to his word (8:55), and because God is the author and sustainer of life, all who know him will share in that life.
If Judaism could make an appeal to their ancestry in Abraham, Jesus now makes a parallel appeal (8:56). Many rabbis in this period taught that Abraham possessed tremendous gifts of prophetic insight. God had given to him the secrets of the coming ages, which included an awareness of the coming Messiah. Even his “rejoicing” at the birth of his son Isaac (Gen. 17:17; 21:6) was a foreshadowing of the blessing that would come to the world through his lineage. No rabbi would object to Jesus’ claim that Abraham would see the messianic era. But Jesus does not say this. Instead, he says: “Your father Abraham rejoiced at the thought of seeing my day; he saw it and was glad” (italics added). The messianic era is now fulfilled in Christ.
But how can Jesus and Abraham know each other since Jesus is not even fifty years old?12 An important variant in 8:57 reverses the subject of the sentence and is likely the original. Rather than Jesus’ seeing Abraham (NIV), some variants read: “and Abraham has seen you?” This accords with the rabbinic understanding of Abraham and his dramatic prescience.13
The climax of the entire chapter arrives at 8:58: “ ‘I tell you the truth,’ Jesus answered, ‘before Abraham was born, I am!’ ” The seriousness of this statement is confirmed by Jesus’ preface (lit.): “Truly, truly [Gk. amen, amen] I say to you,” a phrase Jesus uses some twenty times in the Gospel (see comment on 1:51). This is an absolute claim to preexistence anchored in the absolute “I am” (Gk. ego eimi) language we have already seen in this Gospel (cf. 4:26). “I am” possesses no predicate (as in “I am the bread of life,” 6:35) and so stands alone, no doubt echoing the Greek translation of God’s divine name given in Exodus 3:14.14 To exist before the birth of Abraham—and yet to stand here today—is the boldest claim Jesus has yet made. It recalls the affirmation of the prologue that the Word existed even at the beginning of time. His existence has been continuous since his life is completely drawn from God’s eternal life.
That Jesus’ audience interpreted his words as a divine claim is seen in their reaction (8:59). They are furious because they believe they have heard blasphemy, for which stoning is the legal response (Lev. 24:16; m. Sanhedrin 7:4; Josephus, Ant. 17.9.3). Jesus slips away not as a result of his own ingenuity, but because God has appointed an hour when his death will be necessary (John 7:30, 44; 8:20; 18:6; cf. Luke 4:29). There is a divine plan, and no action of a mob will interrupt it. In John 10:18 Jesus explains, “No one takes it [my life] from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again.”
Bridging Contexts
THIS LONG CHAPTER sustains numerous arguments between Jesus and his opponents in the city of Jerusalem. Charges and counter-charges tumble over one another until the tension between Jesus and the “theologians” of Jerusalem reaches a crescendo at the end of the chapter. His opponents hurl a devastating criticism at him, “You are a Samaritan and demon-possessed” (8:48), while Jesus offers the most elevated Christological self-description yet in the Gospel, “Before Abraham was born, I am.” The battleground is truth and identity with God: Is Jesus fraudulent or are his accusers? One bit of artillery in the fight is the rhetoric that surrounded the famous image of Abraham in Jewish history and lore.
Hostility from “the Jews.” Certainly any interpreter of this chapter must address the breathtaking hostility that Jesus experienced in Jerusalem. But as we do so, we must affirm again (and yet again) that Jesus’ opponents are not “the Jews,” as some translations (such as the NIV) have it. Jesus himself is Jewish, as are the apostles. The church we know today has been grafted into a Jewish olive tree rooted in the traditions of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, and David.
The rhetoric of the debate between Jesus and Jerusalem here is described through the lens of a later era, when the church was locked in struggle with synagogues that denied Jesus’ messiahship and sonship. It was later, when the church distinguished itself from Judaism, that the nomenclature “Jesus versus the Jews” took shape, for in the second half of the first century messianic Jews and Gentile Christians struggled with just these opponents.15 I say this because chapters such as John 8 and 10 have often inspired anti-Semitism. Jews as well as Jewish-Christians would have us be careful and discriminating in how we use this material.
Nevertheless, religious leadership and institutions of Jerusalem, which have been the custodian of divine things for centuries and have enjoyed the temple and the revelation of priest and prophet, cannot accept what God is doing in Christ. Their cynicism evolves from disbelief to antagonism, and then leads to full-scale hostility to Jesus. Given the tone of the debate in John 8 it is no surprise that Jesus is finally crucified in the city less than a year later. In fact, we should read these verses with a sense of awe: Anyone who would teach and argue like this will ultimately get himself killed.
Is there a message in this hostility for us? My instinct is to align myself with Jesus and portray his opponents as those who do not accept the gospel. Jesus’ opponents become my opponents. The theologians of Jerusalem who fight with Jesus correspond to the irreligious and cynical of my day. But this hermeneutical decision is a tremendous presupposition. It is like watching a film and identifying with the hero, the winner, the righteous. Such a decision frees me from the vulnerability of rebuke, setting me on God’s side and against all comers.
Such a reading of this Gospel might be legitimate, for at times we may find ourselves standing with Christ, defending his claims to divinity, and experiencing the hostility of the world. Jesus tells us, “If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first” (15:18). But there also may be times when we are the residents of Jerusalem, when we are the defenders of orthodoxy, and when we cannot tolerate a new word from God. I am naive to think that if I had lived in the days of Jesus, I would have stood with him at all times. Many of us would have been arguing against him in the courts of the temple.
Ancestry and traditions. Another motif that stands out sharply is the defense used by Jesus’ opponents. They make the claim that their ancestry (historical and spiritual) bears definitively on their standing before God. They possess the traditions, the heritage, the temple, the Scriptures, and the institutions. They live in the “city of God” and so should not have to listen to voices challenging their religious instincts. This reflex is a timeless problem that bears on us as well. To what extent do our traditions become impediments to hearing God’s voice? To what extent do we rely on our religious heritage too (“I am a son of Luther!” “I come from a long line of Presbyterians!”) and use it to insulate ourselves from a prophetic word from God?
In the end it is not the teaching of Jesus that scandalizes his audience. Nor is it his provocative activity. What finally divides Jesus and his followers from the religiously inclined in Jerusalem is his ultimate claim about himself. Jesus is not simply one more prophet gracing the streets of Jerusalem. He is not one more upstart rabbi from Galilee, now in town to challenge the theological giants at the temple. Jerusalem has seen these types of men before. What sets Jesus apart—and in the minds of his enemies, what qualifies him for death—is his outrageous and unacceptable claim to unity with the Father. Whenever the church is locked in dispute for the truth of the gospel, Jesus’ absolute authority, his unity with God, and his divine mission will always be the crux of the debate.
There is something ultimate and final about Jesus’ call in this discourse. “I am the light of the world.” “I am going away, and you will look for me, and you will die in your sin.” “If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” “If anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.” In this Gospel, Jesus brokers all personal access to God and life. “Jesus” thus cannot be an optional experience, an addendum to some religious system. He is the light, the life, and the freedom everyone seeks. In other words, he is not merely the bearer of these things, he possesses these things in himself, and to embrace him, to believe in him, and to follow him mean that we acquire these things by being “in him.”
To bring this passage into my own generation means that I must deal with some of the text’s more troubling and difficult aspects. I have to talk about hostility and the gospel. I have to talk about religious tradition and spiritual impediments. And I have to talk about the ultimate truth claims in this Gospel that cannot be compromised lest the heart of Jesus’ gift to us (light, life, and freedom) be lost. But in each case I have to be sober about where I plant my feet.
Contemporary Significance
THE CUSTODIANS OF TRADITION. Christianity will always experience hostility in the world. We expect that unbelievers will reject our message, persecute the church, and bring untold suffering. The stories of Christian displacement and martyrdom throughout the centuries of the church, including the stories of Christian suffering today in places like Sudan and Egypt, all speak of the same truth. Those who choose to live a godly life in this world, who follow Jesus Christ, and who possess a public witness will be persecuted (2 Tim. 3:12). But this is not the main theme of John 8.
The deepest paradox of John 8 is that Jesus suffers religious persecution. These are not godless masses whose pursuit of paganism has deemed Jesus inconvenient. Jesus is confronting the “world,” to be sure, but it is a religious world—a world of unbelief, yes, but a religious world with spiritual appetites. The Judaism embraced by Jesus’ opponents was a deeply spiritual religion that earnestly sought its Messiah, prayed fervently to God, followed the Scriptures, and worshiped regularly. Those whose hearts were inclined to hear God’s new voice in the world quickly recognized this voice in Jesus and followed him. Yet those who were entrenched in the traditions of their religious world, whose spiritual passions betrayed them and closed their eyes and ears, were singularly unable to find anything redeeming in Jesus’ life work.
The paradigm of the passage is then set: Jesus steps into a religiously devout environment and immediately splits his audience. Those who follow him become passionate believers. Those who stand opposed, who defend their traditions with zeal, suddenly become zealous opponents, enemies of God’s work in the world. This passage warns the custodians of tradition that their defense of these spiritual habits and rituals may well be their undoing.
Paul expresses a similar prophetic critique in Romans 2:17–29. In his argument with his Jewish opponents, he urges that the tradition of circumcision in itself has minimal effect: “A man is not a Jew if he is only one outwardly, nor is circumcision merely outward and physical” (2:28). The preservation of the tradition is not in itself a spiritual asset. Instead, circumcision is something inward, spiritual. “Circumcision is circumcision of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the written code” (2:29).
In our passage Jesus’ audience argues in the same manner regarding their natural ancestry: “Abraham is our father,” they insist (John 8:39a). But Jesus argues that lineage from Abraham is evidenced not through bloodline but through spiritual disposition (8:39b–40). This too is the same line that Paul picks up in Romans 4. Abraham is the father of those who have faith, not simply those who keep the Jewish traditions and possess his bloodline. Ancestry and tradition offer false promises to those who think that God is found in them alone.
When Karl Barth wrote his remarkable commentary on Romans in 1919, he looked at these passages on circumcision (Rom. 2) and Abraham (Rom. 4) and made a critical decision. The religious complacency that Paul confronts points not simply to ancient Judaism, but to today’s church. Even Paul understands that the story of Abraham told in Romans 4 was written not only for the sake of the ancients, but for us (4:23–25). Those who point to religious ancestry and tradition as their badges of religious security will actually find themselves in serious jeopardy.
Barth describes their life. It is the life of people who are headed on a long journey and along the way find a sign pointing them westward. The signpost is there to convey them to their destination, but instead they stop and create a life for themselves under its painted words. They build a civilization there, celebrating the signpost and telling stories of how they arrived at the marker. Rituals evolve and songs are written. Books are published and liturgies follow. A few travel on and return, confirming that the sign does indeed lead to the place promised. But the second and third generations have built a life around the signpost and have forgotten the meaning of the journey. Their lore is built on stories of past travel, not on stories of arriving or on the prophetic call to get on with the journey themselves.
Jesus in our century. It is a troubling question, but we must face it. If Jesus stepped into our century, if he walked into our evangelical churches, if he picked up a religious symbol (as he did at the Jewish Feast of Tabernacles) and challenged the symbol’s original meaning, would we cheer or would we fight? Suddenly we might find ourselves defending Christendom instead of the Christian faith. We might explain that the old meaning, the old songs, the old forms had worked just fine for generations. We might challenge this newcomer and demand that he verify that he was indeed a messenger from God. And when he pressed his claims powerfully, suddenly we would be forced either to let go of our former position and become a believer or argue and rebel.
This reflex that cannot see God in the prophetic voice of Jesus, that rebels and fights and attacks, is the work of Satan (8:45). It is Satan’s work among religious people. It is a work that appeared within Judaism and that appears just as often within the Christian church. It is the work of darkness that is commonplace to the human heart. It is work that denies the true authority of the Son and robs him of his credentials to speak (8:13). It is work that puts Jesus before the bar of secular examination, when the examiners are discovered to be philosophers or theologians or historians (8:15). It is work that refuses to admit that his voice is not merely another human voice, but a divine voice sent by God (8:26–27, 40). It is work that distorts the truth, that lies about what it knows to be real, and that defends instead its own religious prerogatives (8:44). Above all, it is a voice that makes a human voice preeminent to the voice of God.
When Jesus arrived at Tabernacles, he found strict opposition among the religious leadership of Judaism. I fear to think how I would have responded were I living in the city at that time. Here I am, a religious professional, a devout believer, one who serves and defends the institutions built in the name of God. I have religious investments and religious commitments. Perhaps I would see it as an act of devotion and piety to stop anyone who would upset what we had built in God’s name.
Are evangelicals any different today? Can our piety become life under the “signpost”? Can it be simply a recitation of ancestry and tradition, a defense of all that is holy and good and spiritual but that knows little of God? In 8:47 Jesus says that the problem is that his audience “does not hear” any longer. This, he suggests, is evidence that they do not belong to God.
John 8:12–59 is a severe call to Judaism that it must repent. But it is a call for us too, who have taken up the mantle worn by the temple leadership of Jerusalem.