Paul and Barnabas reached Galatia for the first time in about A.D. 48–49, and then again on their second missionary journey sometime in the early 50s. It appears that no efforts by other Christian missionaries had yet reached this area, but this was to change thereafter. If we take seriously the division of labor inaugurated already in the 40s when Paul visited Jerusalem for the second time after his conversion—a division that had Peter focusing on Jews, and Paul focusing on Gentiles (Gal. 2:1, 7)—we can see that the strategy of the early church was not to carve up the empire by geographical regions, but rather to have missionaries focus on different ethnic groups.
This division was not a hard and fast one, of course, since Paul would often preach in synagogues and find Gentile God-fearers there the most likely candidates for conversion, as both Acts and his letters demonstrate. Equally, figures like Peter and James wrote documents to Jewish Christians in areas that one might call Pauline (including Asia), if one were mistakenly thinking of evangelism as something done by region rather than by ethnic group. But such a geographical strategy and analysis would always be problematic, since Jews were spread all over the Diaspora.
James and others of the Jerusalem church were probably working with Peter on the evangelism of Jews. What about the Beloved Disciple? As it turns out, this seems to have been his bailiwick as well.
SEARCHING FOR THE JOHANNINE CHURCHES
There are many imponderables in the study of the Johannine literature, not the least of which is that it is not clear where the Christians are who are being addressed in 1, 2, and 3 John. Are these letters written to a largely Jewish Christian or Gentile Christian audience? Where are the recipients located?
Writing at the end of the second century, Irenaeus mentions a tradition about the Beloved Disciple residing in Ephesus and writing a gospel there (Adv. Haer. 3.1.1). He identifies him as John the disciple of the Lord, but he does not call him one of the Twelve. Clement of Alexandria, writing in the late second century, attests to an old tradition about a John who returned from exile on Patmos and lived in Ephesus into the reign of Trajan—which is to say, up to and perhaps beyond the very end of the first century (cited in Eusebius, Hist. Eccl. 3.23.6). But which John was that? The newly published Fragment of Polycarp 63r, also dating to the second century, refers to a John appointing Polycarp bishop of Smyrna. Irenaeus mentions that Polycarp had been instructed by apostles and had conversed with many who had seen Christ “but also was appointed bishop by apostles in Asia” (Adv. Haer. 3.3.4). Notice the reference to apostles (plural) in Asia. The apocryphal Acts of John 18, likewise written sometime in the second century, also speaks of the ministry of a John in Miletus, but again it is not clear which John.
Earlier than any of these traditions is the discussion about these matters by a scholar named Papias, someone who himself had spoken to “the elder John” and distinguished him from John the member of the Twelve (see Eusebius, Hist. Eccles. 3.39.3ff.). In fact, there is now an analysis of Papias Fragment 10:17 that is likely correct in saying that Papias affirmed that John son of Zebedee died early as a martyr, as did his brother James (see Acts 12:2).168 This analysis certainly strongly favors the conclusion that the Beloved Disciple was not John son of Zebedee, and it also counts against the theory that John of Patmos was John son of Zebedee.
Perhaps it would be best to start with the observation that Acts 18 tells us already of a Jewish Christian missionary named Apollos who went to Ephesus, not as a part of the Pauline mission, but apparently on his own. It may be that the Jewish mission in Ephesus began in that fashion in the 50s, quite without the Jerusalem church sending anyone to that locale. In any case, it is clear that by the time John of Patmos was writing there were numerous churches in Asia, seven of which he was prepared to address and take responsibility for. These churches had clearly existed in places like Ephesus for a very long time indeed—long enough for them to develop both problems and promise over a generation or so. John of Patmos wrote to these churches probably in the early 90s,169 using concepts and terms we find elsewhere in the Johannine literature. This suggests that the Fourth Gospel tradition about Jesus as the Logos, and other Johannine ideas we find in the epistles and gospel, had been circulating in these churches for some time and were familiar to John of Patmos’s audience. This in turn suggests that 1, 2, and 3 John were written perhaps in the 80s, and thus before either Revelation or the final form of the Gospel of John was made public. (As noted in the previous chapter, differences in Greek style argue for the gospel and epistles having been written by one person and Revelation by another.)
According to Eusebius (Hist. Eccl. 3.5.3) there was a prophetic oracle given in the Jerusalem church in A.D. 66–67 to flee from Jerusalem because it was about to be destroyed, and many Christians left and went across the Jordan to Pella. But it is surely likely that they also went elsewhere. Perhaps this was the juncture when the Beloved Disciple and others (perhaps even Mary) went to Ephesus. By then no longer a young man, the Beloved Disciple apparently was followed to (or found in) Ephesus by another Christian, a prophet, who became a member of his community—John of Patmos. We may hypothesize that because the Beloved Disciple had been an eyewitness of Jesus and his ministry, he became the central figure in the founding of churches made up largely of Jewish Christians in Ephesus and the surrounding area in Asia. We catch up with him in the Johannine epistles well after these churches were started, and in fact after they’d had to deal with schism. We turn to these letters at this juncture.
THE BELOVED DISCIPLE BECOMES AN OLD MAN
As we have seen, the second and third letters of John announce that they were written by a person who identifies himself as ho presbuteros, meaning “the old man” or “the elder.” This label could even mean “the older man” (of two Johns?). However, it does not seem likely that we should take this term in a comparative sense (the older of two or more persons), since we find no such comparisons in these documents. Perhaps we should rule out “elder” as well. As Raymond Brown points out, this man seems to disavow the teaching office associated with local church elders at 1 John 2:27.170 Furthermore, if he is the elder in a local congregation, why does he assume he has the authority to address congregations in a remote location some distance from his own? By the same token, if he is one of the Twelve, why does he never suggest this? As an “old man,” then—and an eyewitness of something or someone crucial (Jesus as the Word?)—he speaks with authority.
We have a genre issue to consider here, for 1 John is not a letter at all, but rather a homily or rhetorical exhortation, whereas 2 and 3 John are, of all the letters in the New Testament, most like other ancient letters in length and scope. Either of those latter documents could have fit on one sheet of papyrus; 3 John is in fact the shortest document in the New Testament. There has to be some good reason that such brief letters were preserved and included within the canon. Only 3 John is in fact a personal or private letter to an individual, whereas 2 John is written to a congregation at some distance from our author. Likewise, only 3 John mentions names of persons our author is concerned about, evidence of its personal nature. Indeed, one could say 3 John is more personal than even the letters to Timothy and Titus, which, with the exception of 2 Timothy, are more pastoral letters from an apostle to his apostolic delegates.
THE BELOVED’S AUTHORITY AND WITNESS
It is necessary to probe into social and contextual issues to ferret out information about the Beloved Disciple, who by the time the Johannine epistles were written was indeed an old man. One of the most telling pieces of data is the overlap between John 14–17 and material in 1 John. The person who heard Jesus say the things cited in the gospel chapters is the same person who wrote the Johannine epistles: the Beloved Disciple. And he acted on his own authority, not claiming to be one of the Twelve and yet claiming to be an eyewitness.
We have some clues about the author of 1 John in the prologue itself (1 John 1:1–4), which begins, “We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life.” In this passage, which has obvious connections with the prologue in the Gospel of John, who is “we”? In these introductory verses it appears to refer to eyewitnesses, though later in the homily it refers to the author and the audience.171 (Actually, at the very end of the 1 John prologue, “our” joy probably likewise encompasses both the author and the audience.)172 The “you” throughout these verses is clearly the audience in Ephesus, who are not eyewitnesses.173 This way of putting things helps establish the authority of our author, and clearly enough it also involves the implicit claim that he himself is among the eyewitnesses who saw Jesus in the flesh. This in turn comports with the theory that the “old man” who wrote these shorter documents is none other than the Beloved Disciple, spoken of in the gospel as an eyewitness, and so not a second-or third-generation Christian. Supporting this conclusion is the fact that the phrase “seen with the eyes” appears some ninety-one times in the Greek Old Testament, and in all but one case it refers to directly witnessing something with one’s own eyes. Furthermore, the verb “to contemplate/observe” with the eyes is used unambiguously in 1 John 4:12 to refer to physical sight, as here.174
There is a strong emphasis, then, from the beginning of this sermon in 1 John about the total impact that Christ, the “word of life,” had on the Beloved Disciple and others while he was on earth.175 Jesus was listened to and observed, the meaning of his words and works and person was contemplated, and close fellowship was had with him—in fact, he was even touched.176 Alfred Plummer puts it this way: “A climax: seeing is more than hearing, and beholding (which requires time) is more than seeing (which may be momentary); while handling is more than all.”177
The phrase “word of life” at the end of the passage quoted above certainly refers to eternal life, since that is a major theme in this sermon; but because Jesus embodied both eternal life and the word, “word of life” also describes his impact. He is preeminently the Word of Life beyond all ordinary speech or persons. But again the point here is about how he came across, how he impacted our author and others—how he was encountered and perceived and received.
Eternal life, here as elsewhere in the Johannine literature, does not refer merely to life everlasting, though that is meant as well, but also to a different quality of life, an unending spiritual life that has unlimited potential and is full of joie de vivre. It is a life that binds the believer forever to God and to other believers. As such, it already transcends time, for we have it already in time; but it will go on beyond the temporal existence we now experience. Jesus is not simply identical with this life, since it exists in his followers as well, but he clearly most fully embodies it and also bestows it. The person who has Jesus has life with a capital L, but also a lot more, including endless joy. Moody Smith puts the matter well: “Jesus is the bringer of eschatological life, the life that is final but without end, the life of God’s new age.”178
Life certainly is a major theme in 1 John, just as it is in the gospel (the noun “life” occurs some thirteen times in 1 John, the verb once), and about half of the references (six to be exact) in 1 John are more explicitly to eternal life. Clearly, then, our author reflected deeply on the meaning of his personal and eyewitness encounter with Christ, and he was determined to pass that along to his congregations.
In all three letters of John we find a pastor who is doing his best to mend divisions caused in large part by schismatics who left the community and by an authoritarian figure in one of the satellite churches. Given the conflict within his audience, it is probably no accident that the Beloved Disciple has adopted the ambiguous term “old man/elder” to assert his authority over the situation. Elders were those who had authority in the synagogue, something presumably much of his largely Jewish Christian audience knew well. But in a culture that honored seniority and years of experience, the voice of an old man was also assumed to carry wisdom and thereby authority. But as we have seen, the Beloved Disciple does not claim to be more than he was—an eyewitness of Jesus the Word, and an experienced Christian sharing his wisdom. He does not feel the need to use the term “apostle” as Paul does, perhaps because of his Jewish audience, nor does he seek to imply he was one of the Twelve, although that would surely have supplemented his authority. Rather, he is comfortable with who he is—a witness to the truth about Jesus.
At the end of the grand homily we call 1 John, the “old man” returns to a theme that he reflected long on—the human reality of Jesus and how his death as a human provided atonement for sins. About Jesus he says in 1 John 5:6–9: “This is the one who came by water and blood—Jesus Christ. He did not come by water only, but by water and blood. And it is the Spirit who testifies, because the Spirit is the truth. For there are three that testify: the Spirit, the water and the blood; and these three are in agreement. We accept human testimony, but God’s testimony is greater because it is the testimony he has given about his Son.”
Our author sees the death of Jesus as God’s own testimony about the Son and his salvific significance. As I have shown in detail elsewhere, the reference to water here is not a reference to baptism, but rather a reference to physical birth, just as blood is a reference to physical death.179 The stress in the Johannine epistles is on Jesus having come in the flesh—which is to say, on the incarnation and death of Jesus, which are seen as the means of salvation for humanity. The schismatics that these epistles attempt to counter are those who deny that the historical Jesus is the incarnation of the Son and also the Jewish messiah.
In 1 John 5:6–9 we hear an echo of what was said in John 19:34–35, where we had the same language of water, blood, and testimony—human testimony, that of the Beloved Disciple. These documents, the gospel and the epistles, are integrally connected, and they are connected because the eyewitness referred to in John 19 is also the author of the letters, and he is sharing his own human testimony in both the gospel and the epistles. Without cavil, he became one of the greatest theologians of the early church, and perhaps also one of its greatest and most beloved pastors, for it was likely the church that gave him the title the Beloved Disciple.
THE DEMISE OF THE BELOVED DISCIPLE
We cannot say precisely when, but it appears likely that somewhere in the early 90s the Beloved Disciple passed away in Ephesus. There is a Byzantine basilica of St. John, now in ruins, on the edge of Ephesus, which celebrates his life, all the while confusing him with John of Patmos. It is not clear which of those two men are buried there; it may be either one. But do we know anything else about the Beloved Disciple’s death? Let us consider John 21:20–23 now.
It is Peter who raises the question about the fate of the Beloved Disciple in John 21:21. True to his customary modus operandi, Jesus answers with a rhetorical question: “If it is my will that he should remain until I come, what is that to you?” Now, this way of putting it is deliberately ambiguous. But when it is said of someone whom Jesus raised from the dead—namely, Lazarus—one can immediately see how speculation gets started. The form of the Greek conditional sentence that is Jesus’s rhetorical question indicates only a possible, not a real condition.180 The reply to Peter basically means that the matter is none of Peter’s business. He must focus on what God has in mind for him, which ultimately proves to be martyrdom.
The Fourth Evangelist, the man who assembled the Beloved Disciple’s memoirs after the old man had passed away, is eager to dispel the rumor that Jesus had promised that the Beloved Disciple would live until the parousia. Why? Because the Beloved Disciple had lived a very long life and then had died before Jesus returned, causing considerable dismay in the Johannine community. In other words, these verses are an exercise in damage control. The Fourth Evangelist goes on to explain that while the man had ceased breathing, his words of life and testimony continued to live on. And what a legacy he left his community—a wonderful gospel, one superb sermon, and two pastoral and personal letters.
WHAT WE’VE LEARNED AND WHAT THAT KNOWLEDGE TELLS US ABOUT JESUS
Early Christianity surely had few eyewitnesses of Jesus who lived into the last decade of the first century, but there were a few. This should remind us to beware of making facile assumptions about whether the Johannine gospel could be in touch with the real historical Jesus and be an eyewitness testimony to him. The answer is yes: it could be and is. The Johannine literature is the distinctive witness of someone who had a unique perspective on Jesus, someone deeply steeped in Jewish wisdom literature, who knew how to convey profound ideas in beguilingly simple Greek. He was someone for whom Jesus performed a profound miracle, and it changed his life and worldview forever. He knew personally what resurrection meant: he had experienced it. For him “I am the resurrection and the life” was more than a claim of Jesus; it was how he had encountered Jesus beyond and back from the grave. He had not merely seen Jesus, he had touched him; and he had not merely touched Jesus, he had been befriended by him; and he had not merely been befriended by Jesus, he had been loved by him, loved even to the point that Jesus raised this man from the dead and then died for him and others—for as Jesus had said, “Greater love has no one than he lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). Of course, the Beloved Disciple had also studied with Jesus and heard his words—as the echoes of 1 John 14–17 make so very clear.
And so it was by this means that a Judean eyewitness disciple who did not travel with Jesus became one of the crucial witnesses to the Christ event, and he continued to give testimony into the last decade of the first century, founding (with his helpers) numerous Jewish Christian churches in various cities in Asia. In the end we may be tempted to shout with him, if we have reflected long and hard on the substance of his gospel and letters, “We have seen his glory.”
Despite all the problems, despite all the trials, despite all the defections, this man passed on the torch of eyewitness Christianity to another generation, as Polycarp and Papias and Ignatius and Irenaeus could attest. There is nothing in the Johannine epistles about whether indeed Mary was with the Beloved Disciple during these days in the 80s and into the 90s. Perhaps she had long since died. Perhaps in her honor the Beloved Disciple called one of his churches “the elect Lady,” as some have speculated. We cannot know for sure. But we can say with considerable certainty that eyewitness Christianity survived until the very cusp of the second century, when its inner-circle testimony was passed on to another generation of Christians.
The connection between Jesus and the church of the second century in some cases involved a very short chain. Indeed, it was a chain with only one link in the case of the Johannine epistles and only two in the case of the Fourth Gospel, which required an editor to collect and put together the Beloved Disciple’s testimony once he died. The importance of this immediacy can hardly be exaggerated. Early Christianity through to the end of the first century was in large measure the product of the hard work of the inner circle of Jesus, including both apostles and non-apostles, and it involved both largely Jewish and largely Gentile communities of Christians.
There was no rival form of Christianity of a Gnostic sort in the first century, nor of a sort that involved appreciating Jesus only as a great sage and not as Christ, the Son of God, the crucified savior. As the Beloved Disciple says emphatically in his letters and gospel, those who do not believe that Jesus is the Christ—that he came in the flesh, died on the cross, and rose from the dead—are not Christians.
This is the language of sectarian faith, of course—but then all of the inner circle of Jesus, and the communities those disciples helped to form, were constituted by sectarian believers. This becomes clear as we consider other members of the inner circle of Jesus and the way they helped shape early Christianity—especially Peter, who as we saw sought to create Jewish Christian communities that focused on the crucified and risen One who was messiah, savior, Son of God, Lord.
Finally, let’s summarize what the material bequeathed to us by the Beloved Disciple tells us about Jesus. The first and perhaps most important conclusion we learn from examining this material closely is that there is no major gap between the historical Jesus and the Christ of later Christian faith. If indeed Jesus presented himself, at least in private to his disciples, in a fashion even close to what the “I am” sayings of the Gospel of John suggest—sayings not addressed in our discussion above, but including such pronouncements as “I am the good shepherd” (10:11) and “I am the resurrection and the life” (11:25)—then Jesus had a messianic understanding of himself as far more than an ordinary mortal. Indeed, if the Beloved Disciple’s testimony really is “true,” as John 21 claims, then we must assign Paul a considerably less exalted role than the suggestion that he invented a divine view of Jesus, or invented later Christian theology about Jesus.
Furthermore, and even more strikingly, the Beloved Disciple is not just a clear witness to what Jesus thought about himself and how he presented himself as a messianic figure; he is an equally clear witness—indeed, one with direct personal experience—that Jesus could in fact do miracles and even raise the dead. The exalted view of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel and the Johannine epistles reflects how an eyewitness was impacted by the words, deeds, life, and relationships of the historical Jesus himself. That eyewitness presented what he learned in his own distinctive fashion, of course, writing in his own style and with an eye to the wisdom of Jesus and to Jesus as the incarnation of divine wisdom. And of course it may have taken some time for the Beloved Disciple to reach the conclusions he did about Jesus. We don’t know how long these ideas gestated in his mind.
But what we can say is that the high Christology, the view of Jesus as both human and divine, is found in this eyewitness testimony just as it is found in the chronologically earliest New Testament documents—the letters of Paul. Furthermore, the Beloved Disciple, like Paul, believed that Jesus’s death and resurrection are the fulcrum of the Jesus story, the events that changed (indeed shattered) history. These were not ideas invented late in the first century by second-or third-generation Christians. Rather, these were the ideas and events that generated and shaped the thought-world of the Christian movement in the first place.
According to the Old Testament, the testimony of two witnesses validates the truth of anything. We have seen in the Beloved Disciple a powerful witness to a powerful and messianic Jesus. When we tell Paul’s tale, we will find a similarly exalted view of Jesus. The question is, Will we believe these earliest witnesses to Jesus, or will we exchange their testimony for the later musings of Gnostics, Marcionites, and others who turned Jesus into a talking head, an idea man without a story, whose incarnation, death, and resurrection were not crucial to unveiling his identity and his mission in life? We must decide whether to believe the testimony of the earliest witnesses (some of them eyewitnesses), who spoke of an exalted, divine Christ, or the conclusions of later writers. We must decide which group is more likely to have known what Jesus was really like. The answer of this study is of course that the members of Jesus’s inner circle were likely to have known him first and known him best. But did this include Jesus’s own brothers?