article40

§34 Jesus Speaks of His Death (John 12:20–36)

The principle that the “whole world has gone after” Jesus (v. 19) finds immediate illustration in some Greeks who were among the worshipers at the festival (v. 20). Their request to see Jesus was directed at Philip (cf. 1:43–44), ceremoniously passed along by him to Andrew, and by the two of them to Jesus (vv. 21–22). These two disciples have been seen together twice before: first as Jesus’ agents in initially gathering a group of followers (1:35–45), and later as the two whose faith Jesus tested before the feeding of the five thousand (6:5–9). Again they are a team, this time in presenting to their Teacher the longings of the Gentile world and receiving from him the revelation, indirect though it may be, of how the Gentile world soon will see him.

In asking to see Jesus, the Greeks were merely requesting an interview, but Jesus has in mind a redemptive and universal vision (cf. 6:40: “For my Father’s will is that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him shall have eternal life”). He therefore does not answer their question directly; the reader never learns whether or not the interview was granted. Instead, Jesus announces that his hour has come (contrast 2:4), the hour for the Son of Man to be glorified (v. 23). Only when he is glorified in death and resurrection will the Greeks (and all other Gentiles) be able to see him redemptively.

That the momentous hour was indeed the hour of death was implied in two earlier uses of the term in this Gospel. Twice Jesus had escaped death “because his time had not yet come” (7:30; 8:20). Now he speaks again of death, this time in the language of parable (v. 24). The parable, like several of Jesus’ parables of the kingdom of God in the Synoptics, is a parable of a growing seed (cf., e.g., Mark 4:1–9, 26–29, 30–32; Matt. 13:24–30. But Jesus, instead of being the sower who plants the seed (as, e.g., in Matt 13:37), is in this instance himself the kernel of wheat. It is he who must die, and by his death produce many seeds. His death will make possible a rich harvest, in that it will bring salvation to the Gentiles.

The sequel to verse 24 is verse 32. When verses 24 and 32 are placed side by side, they look like two stanzas of a single pronouncement:

(a) I solemnly assure you, unless the grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat. But if it dies, it produces much fruit (v. 24, NAB).

(b) And I—once I am lifted up from the earth—will draw all men to myself (v. 32, NAB).

The symmetry between (a) and (b) centers on the contrast between the phrases “to the earth,” in the first, and “from the earth,” in the second. The contrast stands out against the formal similarity of the two stanzas. Both are built around conditional clauses. The first begins with a negative “if” (i.e., “unless”) clause reminiscent of others in this Gospel (e.g., 3:3, 5; 6:53) and concludes with a positive “if” clause (“but if it dies, it produces much fruit”). The positive conditional form (“once [i.e., “if”] I am lifted up”) carries over into the second stanza, which completes the thought of the first and at the same time interprets it. The kernel of wheat is now, by the emphatic “I,” specifically identified as Jesus, while the reference to producing many seeds, or “much fruit,” is defined as drawing everyone to himself. Jesus, the “grain of wheat,” falls “to the earth” in death and is “lifted up from the earth” in resurrection, like a plant in its full growth. It appears that Jesus has applied a parable of growth, similar to those found in the synoptic Gospels, to his own Passion and resurrection.

What Jesus and the earliest forms of the tradition have done, however, is not necessarily identical to what the Gospel writer has done. In the Gospel as it stands, verses 24 and 32 are not joined together, and verse 32 is interpreted as referring not to Jesus’ resurrection but to his death on the cross (v. 33; cf. 3:14). The Gospel writer is not so much interested in a sequence (i.e., first Jesus died; then he rose), as in focusing significantly on the death of Jesus, and on that alone. He sees Jesus’ death, to be sure, from the perspective of the resurrection, but he is not concerned with the resurrection itself as a distinct event. Because he knows and believes that Jesus was raised from the dead, he is able to interpret Jesus’ death on the cross as a victory, a “glorification.” He superimposes the contours of the resurrection, and its significance, on the crucifixion. Seen in this way, a dark tragedy becomes a glorious victory. The gruesome “lifting up” of Jesus on a cross becomes his exaltation to a place of honor in God’s presence (cf. Acts 2:33; 5:31) and his vindication before the whole world. By it he will grant eternal life to “everyone who believes” (3:15) and will draw all men to himself (v. 32).

To the Gospel writer, verses 24 and 32 are two different images for the same reality, the death of Jesus, and both make the point that latent in the death itself is the power and reality of the resurrection. The paradox inherent both in nature and in grace is that life comes only through death (cf. 1 Cor. 15:36). This paradox is brought to bear, not only on Jesus’ experience, but on that of his disciples (v. 25). Just as in Mark’s Gospel the first prediction of the Passion was immediately followed by teaching on discipleship (Mark 8:31–38), so here the announcement of Jesus’ hour becomes the basis for a decisive call to self-denial and servanthood (vv. 25–26). Even death cannot separate Jesus from his disciples if, like Mary (cf. vv. 3–8), they serve him (v. 26). Serving Jesus in the new situation to come, however, will be defined not merely by Mary’s example, but by Jesus’ own (cf. 13:1–17). To serve him is to follow or imitate him (v. 26), that is, to be the same kind of servant that he was (cf. 13:13–16). Jesus later puts this teaching in the context of being hated and persecuted by the world (15:18–21). He never tells his disciples to hate the world in return, but he does tell them to hate their life in this world and so gain eternal life (v. 25). What is required of a disciple in the face of the Teacher’s death is to give up the vested interest he or she has in the world and follow Jesus in the way of servanthood. When that requirement is met, Jesus says, where I am, my servant also will be (v. 26a). He does not specify where that will be; all that his disciples need to know for the moment is that they will be with him and that his love is stronger than death. Later he will make it clear that they will join him in the Father’s presence (14:1–3) and there see in its fullness the glory he received from the Father (17:24). For now he offers only the general assurance that my Father will honor the one who serves me (v. 26b). These verses afford a glimpse of issues that will be addressed in greater detail in the farewell discourses.

Having spoken to his disciples (vv. 22–26), Jesus will now turn his attention to the Father (vv. 27–28), and finally to the crowd (presumably the “large crowd” of vv. 12 and 18) standing around him (vv. 29–36). John’s Gospel has no record of Jesus’ prayer at Gethsemane (by the time Jesus is in the garden, the issue is already settled, 18:11). The closest equivalent to the synoptic Gethsemane is his prayer out of a troubled heart (v. 27) concerning the hour that is upon him. Momentarily undecided as to what his prayer should be, Jesus first asks that the hour of suffering might not come, but immediately withdraws that request in favor of another: Father, glorify your name (vv. 27–28a; cf. Mark 14:36: “Father … everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will”). What changes his petition is the acknowledgment that it was for this very reason I came to this hour (v. 27). Just as in Mark, the decisive factor is his commitment “to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work” (4:34). Jesus has “come down from heaven not to do my will but to do the will of him who sent me” (6:38). The prayer he must choose, therefore, is “your will be done,” or (its equivalent) Father, glorify your name! (v. 28a).

A reader familiar with the Lord’s Prayer could almost imagine that Jesus was starting to recite it, in a form close to that of Luke (“Father, hallowed be your name,” Luke 11:2). If that was the case, he never finished, for a voice from heaven answered immediately: I have glorified it, and will glorify it again (v. 28b). The two “glorifications” are surprising, but emerge as distinct from one another in two subsequent passages as well (13:31–32; 17:4–5). God brings glory to his name, first, through the obedience of his Son (signaled by the obedient prayer just uttered) and, second, by reuniting the Son to himself through death and resurrection (cf. esp. 17:5). None of this made sense to the onlookers. What impressed them was the power and majesty of the voice (v. 29), not what the voice was saying. And yet, like Jesus’ dramatic prayer at the raising of Lazarus (11:41–42), the voice was for their sake and not his (v. 30). Like that prayer, it was a bridge between Jesus and heaven, an unusually concrete example of “heaven open and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man” (1:51) and a reminder that Jesus was acting not on his own, but always and only on the Father’s initiative.

As he turns his attention to the crowd, Jesus announces to them the coming of the hour, just as he had earlier announced it to the disciples (cf. v. 23). Because the hour is now seen in relation to the world rather than to Jesus personally, the emphasis is on judgment instead of glory (v. 31; cf. 3:19; 5:22, 27). Although John’s Gospel records none of the incidents found in the other Gospels in which Jesus cured those who were demon possessed, it is striking that the judgment of the world is described here as one great exorcism: Now the prince of this world will be driven out (the term commonly used for the exorcism of demons, e.g., in Mark 1:39; Matt. 10:8; 12:28). The interest of this Gospel is not in a plurality of demonic forces but solely in the devil, Jesus’ one great Adversary and the prince of this world (cf. 14:30; 16:11). The passage is reminiscent of Jesus’ parable in the three other Gospels about his conflict with “Satan” or “Beelzebul, the chief [i.e., ruler] of the demons”: “No one can enter a strong man’s house and carry off his possessions unless he first ties up the strong man. Then he can rob his house” (Mark 3:27/Matt. 12:29; cf. Luke 11:21–22). The imagery in John is different—Satan is driven out rather than bound—but the reality is much the same. Jesus defeats the prince of this world and sets his captives free. When I am lifted up from the earth, he says, I … will draw all men to myself (v. 32).

When the “lifting up” is understood as Jesus’ resurrection (i.e., when v. 32 is paired with v. 24), the drawing of everyone to himself could be understood as the raising of the dead at the last day through the power of the Risen One (cf. 5:25–29; 6:39–40, 44, 54). But when the “lifting up” is understood primarily with reference to the crucifixion (as v. 33 demands), the drawing of everyone is more naturally seen as mission, the transformation of a single grain into many seeds (v. 24) or the gathering of scattered sheep into “one flock” (10:16; cf. 11:52). In John’s Gospel it is by the cross—followed and completed by resurrection, to be sure, but essentially by the cross—that mission becomes reality (cf. 10:15–16; 11:51–52; 12:23–25). The cross is like a magnet to which all (Jew and Greek alike) are drawn. Whether it is Jesus (v. 32) or the Father (cf. 6:44) who draws people, it is to the cross, and the crucified one, that they come. To be drawn to the cross is to be drawn into the pattern of discipleship represented in verses 24–26—or in 6:53–58, under the metaphor of eating Jesus’ flesh and drinking his blood.

The crowd seemed to hear nothing of what was involved in Jesus’ promise to draw everyone to himself. Only the “lifting up” caught their attention. But when they heard “lifting up,” did they think of exaltation, or crucifixion? The meaning of verse 34 hinges on the answer. If they understood the “lifting up” as exaltation (cf. Acts 2:33; 5:31), then they are saying: The Law tells us that the Messiah is to be the Exalted One who endures forever and rules over Israel, but you say it is this mysterious “Son of Man” (i.e., their problem is with the term Son of Man). But if they understand the “lifting up” as crucifixion, they are saying: The Law tells us that the Messiah will endure forever, but you say the “Son of Man” (by which we assume you mean the Messiah) will die by crucifixion (i.e., their problem is with the notion of a dying Messiah).

The second alternative is the more likely. The crowd’s terminology echoes more closely Jesus’ words in 3:14 (“the Son of Man must be lifted up”) than his words in the present context (neither the title Son of Man nor the verb must are found in v. 32). The analogy of the snake on a pole in the desert made it clear that 3:14 referred to the crucifixion, and the crowd’s use of the language of that verse (especially right after the parenthetical comment of v. 33) demonstrates that this is their understanding here as well. How they came to this conclusion on the basis of what Jesus actually said in verse 32 is more difficult to determine. They did not, after all, have the benefit of the narrator’s comment in verse 33! But in any case, the exchange in verse 34 serves to remind the readers of the Gospel that Jesus’ Jewish contemporaries had as much difficulty with the idea of a crucified Messiah as did the Jews with whom they themselves came in contact.

Jesus’ last words to the crowd continue to emphasize his impending death. He uses the familiar imagery of light and darkness in much the same way as in 9:4–5 and 11:9–10; that is, the light is the time during which Jesus is on earth, and the darkness is the period after his departure. But the two previous passages used this imagery to accent Jesus’ own urgency about his mission, whereas the present passage uses it to underscore the urgency for his hearers to believe in him before it is too late. The light is more than simply the time when Jesus is present; the light is Jesus himself, the one in whom they must believe.

The outcome of this last appeal—and of all the appeals that preceded it—will be sketched in verses 37–50. The crowd of bystanders to whom Jesus speaks is seen by the narrator as representative of all who heard Jesus’ message in his earthly ministry as well as all who heard it since that time. The metaphor of the light and darkness is flexible, not fixed, in its application. The darkness did not fall once and forever when Jesus went away. The light is still shining (cf. v. 46; 1:5; 8:12), and the words of verses 35–36 are as appropriate in the narrator’s world (and ours) as in the historical setting of Jesus’ last Passover. When Jesus left and hid himself from the crowd (v. 36b), a particular sequence in his self-revelation came to an end (cf. 8:59), but the story goes on. The rest of the story will be seen largely through the eyes of his disciples, who will continue to hold before the world the urgent appeal of verses 35–36.