The theme of I John 5:1-4a is a continuation of a theme begun in 4:7, that those who are part of a Christian community are to love one another.
1 Everyone who believes (πιστεύων) that Jesus is the Christ has been born (γεγέννηται) of God. The Johannine literature has a strong preference for speaking in terms of the action of believing rather than the idea of “faith” (πίστις). As we have been learning in Chapter 4, John identifies the action of believing with keeping the command to show love to each other (I John 3:23 and 5:2-3). Thus, belief for this community is hardly esoteric, but immensely practical and pragmatic. Yet, this passage has its own concerns as well. One of those concerns relates to what people often think of as one of the most esoteric doctrines of Christian theology, namely what later theologians would call the “two natures of Christ.” Around the time John wrote his letters, there was beginning to emerge an idea among some Christian thinkers that we would eventually know as “Docetism.” The term derives from the Greek verb δοκέω which means “to seem,” and it designates the idea that the Christ just “seemed” to be human but was in fact only and completely divine. Christ was a fully spiritual being who took on the outward appearance of physicality without taking on any genuine physical attributes. The teaching of the Johannine community adamantly opposed this way of thinking about the Christ. Christ received his birth from God, which we see here and in John 1:18. The God who is spirit (John 4:24) has nevertheless brought to birth a son who has genuinely become physical in nature (John 1:14). That is why this author opens the letter with the insistence that they had not only “heard” but also “seen with our eyes … and touched with our hands” the “word of life” who had taken on human flesh (1 John 1:1). Anyone who should teach otherwise is not only a “liar” but also the very antithesis of Christ himself, an antichrist (2:22). We are to understand the opening statement against this background discussion. The issue is not whether Jesus was the Messiah or someone else might be the Messiah. The issue was whether one believed that the human being Jesus of Nazareth was indeed the Christ who was born of God. If one believed that the spiritual Christ was identical with the human Jesus, then one would understand the necessity of relating the spiritual and physical realms. Therefore, in addition, everyone who loves the parent loves the child (γεννήσαντα participial forms).[1]He inherently links love of God with keeping God’s commands to love others because God has shown by giving birth to the Christ that the spiritual and physical have this link. Notice as well that this opening verse makes it clear that the Christ is not the only one who “has been born of God.” All those who “believe” — that is, act in accord with this truth — that the human Jesus is the Christ are likewise “born of God.” Naturally, such children who have received such birth will not only love the parent who has given them birth but also all those likewise born — both the Christ and those born of God by their belief in the Christ. The next verse begins with the little phrase 2By this. It seems to refer to what follows.[2] One might imagine here that the author is envisioning an interlocutor from the community to which he is writing who asks, "You say you want us to love the children of God, but how are we to know when we have fully achieved all that is entailed by that exhortation?" The second half of the verse provides the answer to this imaginary question. We know (γινώσκομεν) that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey (literally “do,” which might make more sense here[3]) the commandments of God. John has been drawing a correlation between loving each other and obeying the commandments. Among the natural human activities is the desire to know. We can think of several ways we acquire knowledge, such as through the senses, through our rationality, through emotions, and even through faith. None of them are infallible. The use of any of them apart from the others can lead to deception. Faith is a good example. Some things in life you will never know, such as whether a person will be a genuine friend or lover, without entrusting yourself to the person. You may well learn that the person was not worthy of that trust, and therefore must withdraw. We might think of a variety of areas of knowledge, each of which will vary in the way one gains knowledge: mathematics and natural sciences will have a higher degree of certainty through their mathematization, human sciences, history, the arts, ethics, and religion will have far less certainty as they rely more upon intuition, feeling, and faith. Yet, such discussions of human knowing can be abstractions. We need to see such ways of knowledge as working together, the knowledge of art, morality, and religion keeping science from becoming inhuman, and the knowledge of science and math keeping art, morality, and religion from becoming ridiculous. John is not interested in an abstract approach to what “we know.” His concern is with what his community is experiencing. One can be certain that one has accomplished love for the children of God when one demonstrates love for God and simultaneously does God's commandments. "Doing" the commandments, suggests that specific actions are required on the part of those to whom the author of the epistle is writing. John shows apprehension that his adherents would experience discouragement and leave an opening for his opponents. Thus, John is connecting belief in Jesus Christ with being a child of God, recognizing that children of God love God and other children of God. When all this comes together, “we know.” We may be unaware of the factors that influence us as we try to gain knowledge. We need to distinguish between information and data on the one hand from belief or opinion on the other. We need to become aware of the power of narrative. A great storyteller — whether a journalist or editor or filmmaker or curator — helps people figure out not only what matters in the world, but also why it matters. A great storyteller dances up the ladder of understanding, from information to knowledge to wisdom. Through symbol, metaphor, and association, the storyteller helps us interpret information, integrate it with our existing knowledge, and transmute that into wisdom.[4]Yes, we can create a narrative (a belief system) through which we see the world. A good narrative can inspire us to be better people than we would be without it. Yet, the world may not actually conform to our narrative! Will we have a sharp enough desire for truth and knowledge regarding our world to allow the narrative to change? One can insulate oneself from a body of knowledge by staying within the walls of our political ideology. We take that narrative as self-evident, even though adherents of another tribe might consider it heresy. Thus, we need to be increasingly how our assumptions influence the way we assess what we see in the world, as well as the way others whom we hear or read have a narrative that guides the way they share what they “know.” People who claim to be following the data can arrive at vastly differing conclusions. What we know needs to have a degree of coherence with other things we know. We need to be careful of our use of “consensus,” for it may be nothing more than the consensus of those who adhere to the same political ideology. We need to test the reliability of our reasoning process, of our sense perception, of that in which we have placed our trust, our memory, and so on. In matters related to the human sciences (political and economic theory, morality, psychology, and religion), the history of the tradition is so important. One moment in history can forget or ignore important truths from the past. Another moment can gain new insight into a truth previous generations did not have. We might even be afraid of genuine knowledge, for it would require a degree of humility regarding what we know and openness to what others know that we simply do not want to have. You might even want to accept the challenge and take the risk of stating what you “know” in essay. 3 For the love of God is this, that we obey (τηρῶμεν or keep) the commandments of God. Evidence of the depth of our love of God is the level of our obedience to the will of God. Expanding on the theme of doing, he now focuses on keeping the commandments, which is the way we fulfill the action of the love of God. Yet, he quickly adds for clarification that the commandments of God are not burdensome. Yes, the commandment is not burdensome, even if it is simple, serious penetrating, and inescapable.[5] For members of the audience who were familiar with Jewish scriptures, the author's insistence on the ease of keeping the commandments may have sounded reminiscent of Deuteronomy 30:11-14, which expresses a similar sentiment concerning the commandments. While there are those who may feel burdened by the commandments put forth in 1 John, the imperative of loving God and one another is meant to enhance life, not encumber it. Loving God and one another is not only an ethical stance, but it is also an invitation to participate in a lively network of relationships where God and humankind are drawn together into rich companionship and communion. He concludes: 4a for whatever is born of God echoing verse 1 regarding the link between believing Jesus is the Christ and being born of God, conquers the world. The context for conquering the world can be found earlier in 2:13b-17, where the evil one is overcome (2:13b, 14c) and it is imperatively stated: “Do not love the world or things of the world” (2:15a).John seems, here, to be very close to a seam of thought we find in the gospel of John, a seam which emerges (for instance) at 12:31, where Jesus speaks of “the world’s ruler” being “thrown out”; at 14:30, where he declares that “the ruler of this world” has “nothing to do with me”; and at 16:33 where, after warning the disciples that they will face persecution in the world, concludes, “But cheer up; I have conquered the world!” In the gospel, all this is meant, so it seems, to draw the eye up to the two dramatic chapters 18 and 19, in which an odd, unbalanced conversation takes place between Jesus, Pontius Pilate and the chief priests. Jesus and Pilate argue about the great themes of kingdom, truth and power, with the chief priests accusing Jesus and finally persuading Pilate to have him crucified. Somehow, we are meant to understand, these events and their aftermath, more particularly Jesus’ death as “king of the Jews,” are in fact the moment when, and how, “the world’s ruler” is being “thrown out.” They are how Jesus is in fact conquering the world, even though it looks for the moment as though the world is conquering him. There is a deep mystery here. The victory that conquers the world is the saving death of Jesus. And those who by faith cling on to the God who is made known personally in and as the Jesus who died on the cross — they share that victory, that conquest of “the world.”[6]
Why did the mutiny occur? No one can know for sure. It is probable, however, that the split happened at least in part concerning the issue of the identity of Jesus Christ. In the first centuries of the church, there was much division surrounding the tension inherent in claiming Jesus both human and divine, and many in the early church stressed one at the expense of the other. Whatever the historical reality, John's letter expresses the converging orthodoxy of the early church: Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and the Savior of the World. Those who confess this to be true and abide with those who do, witness to the love of God.
The theme of I John 5:4b-6, a segment that continues to verse 12, is faith as conqueror. The focus of 4b-6, a segment that extends to verse 8, is giving a Christological content of faith in terms of water, blood, Spirit. This last unit arises out of the suggestion in John 20:31, emphasizing that the Gospel of John is itself is a testimony the author hopes will bring people to believe that Jesus of Nazareth is the promised Messiah and therefore the Son of God. Through such belief, the reader will have life.
Verses 4b-6, a segment that extends to verse 8, has the theme of water, blood, and Spirit. Verse 4a ends with the children of God overcoming the world. This unit sees the agency of that victory as faith. This faith is not trust in the power of God but a Christological affirmation. 4b In addition, this is the victory that conquers the world, our faith (πίστις). Here is the only time in the writings of John that we have the noun, referring to “the faith,” rather than the act of believing.[7] Even in this sole use of the noun “faith” within this literature the emphasis remains on what it does, namely, “conquers the world.” Clearly, one achieves victory not by an idea that “conquers the world” but rather by the actions of those who do or keep God’s commands to show love not only toward God but all those who “have been born of God.” 5 Who[8] is it that conquers the world but the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God? Although one might expect the conqueror to possess superior strength or courage, the epistle here claims that the only requirement is belief. In verse 1, belief in Jesus as the Christ is central. The use of these concurrent titles indicates a certain flexibility in naming the divine dimension of Jesus, a flexibility that may reflect a time in the early church when Christological determinations were much more in the process of being developed than they were settled and definitive. Of additional significance to this verse is how, between the bookends of verse 1 and verse 5, believing that Jesus is the “Christ” or “Son of God” is the crux of the convergence of being born of God, obediently loving God and one another and the victory of faith that conquers the world. If such belief recognizes the divine dimension of Jesus, the power to conquer is available. This is an extraordinary claim indeed. When heard within the context of an empire that conquered the world through brute force, military might and the occupation of conquered territories, the claim that the only "weapon" one needs for this task is the belief that Jesus is the Son of God is a radical assertion. John calls us to extend the rule of peace and wholeness, of justice, goodness, compassion, caring, sharing, laughter, joy, and reconciliation, for God is transfiguring the world through those who believe. In this sense, Jesus is the king that anticipates what the world shall be. As such, Jesus as the Christ and the Son, the king who conquers, will conquer any threat from the world through our faith in who he is and what he promises to bring to this world. In a sense, God also believes in us, loves us, and works through us. Nothing can separate us from the love of God for us, of course. When we share the love of God with others, no tyrant can resist, no opposition that will prevail, no hatred that one cannot turn to love, and no dream that cannot find fulfillment.[9] 6 This is the one who came ˆ(aorist participle, emphasizing both Jesus' messianic identity as "the coming One" and to solidly pronounce Jesus' arrival as a historical fact.) by water and blood, Jesus Christ, not with the water only but with the water and the blood. Here, water signifies Christ’s baptism, and blood represents Christ’s sacrifice. The statement has received much discussion.[10] The focus is upon the historical witness to Jesus. It is easy to find the place of water and blood in Jesus' historical life. Water marked the beginning of Jesus' public ministry, the moment of his baptism. John the Baptist anointed him for his prophetic ministry with water and the descent of the Spirit upon him. Blood, Jesus' own blood spilled on the cross, marked the completion of the historic incarnation with Jesus' death. He fulfills the priestly role in the Temple in his offer of himself as the sacrifice that will bring forgiveness of sin. Jesus is king, prophet, and priest. The text makes it clear that one must not separate these two witnesses. The opponents of John could accept “water,” for it would refer to the baptism of John the Baptist, where in the Gospel of John we have the revelation of the Incarnation. His opponents would have no problem with that. The combination of water and blood goes back to John 19:34-35, witnessing the blood and water. The water flowing from the body of Jesus is symbolic of the life-giving power of the death of Jesus. Both water and blood relate to the insistence of the real physicality of Christ, especially to his crucifixion and therefore to the reality of his suffering and death. The grittiness of this reality, the physicality of Jesus' genuine incarnation, is further emphasized by I John's focus on the very earthy evidence of "the water and the blood."[11] In addition, the Spirit is the one that testifies, for the Spirit is the truth. The author has three witnesses, the legal number rather than the secessionist one witness, John the Baptist. The Spirit that testifies is the divine presence through whom we know “[Christ] abides in us” (3:24), “every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God” (4:2) and “we abide in [God] and [God] in us” (4:13). There is a continuing witness to these in baptism, anointing, and Eucharist. The third witness, identified as part of God's divine testimony, the Spirit, is in fact the witness‑bearer ‑‑ the one who translates for us the meaning behind the water of baptism and the blood of the crucifixion. The Spirit "is the one that testifies" ‑‑ an ongoing identity ‑‑ forever keeping the historical evidence of the water and the blood intelligible to each new generation of believers.
The Beloved Disciple and the Spirit continued to offer their testimony. The act of God in Jesus of Nazareth, who was the promised Jewish Messiah and therefore the Savior of us all, required witnesses for others to receive the life-giving benefit of the act of God. The Spirit testifies to us internally and leads us to truth. Such truth will always stay close to Jesus as the promised Messiah. If we are believers, we are such because of the testimony of others. However, such human witnesses long for us to have the internal witness of the Holy Spirit, or comforter, advocate, and guide. In a sense, the real problem of the Christian life comes where people do not usually look for it. It comes when we awaken in the morning. Our wishes and hopes for the day rush at us like wild animals. Our first job of the day is to push back all these voices. We need to listen to the other voice come through that wants us to gain another view of a larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing into our minds.[12] Such is the power of the Spirit who testifies to truth and is in fact truth.
I have been around long enough to experience the anguish some theologians and preachers have regarding hymns that focus on the blood of Jesus. The United Church of Christ denomination in 1995 published its new "politically correct" The New Century Hymnal that, among other editorializations, deleted all references to Jesus' blood from a host of old familiar hymns. Now you will not find hymns like "Nothing but the Blood," or "There Is a Fountain Filled With Blood," or "Heal Me, Hands of Jesus." Or when you do find the blood songs, the language is changed (verse 3 of "The Old Rugged Cross" gets changed from "stained with blood so divine" to "which bore love so divine"; or verse 2 of "O How I Love Jesus" gets changed from "It tells me of his precious blood, the sinner's perfect plea" to "Whatever problems may befall, we'll live in dignity"). The UCCs should not be singled out completely here. At least they are honest. Most of the other old‑line traditions have dealt with blood‑soaked songs by simply never singing them. When was the last time you sang "There Is a Fountain Filled With Blood," or "Nothing but the Blood," or "Heal Me, Hands of Jesus"?
For a long time now, the church has sent out a message that all that blood imagery is gross and disgusting, messy and maudlin. What the UCC hymnal did with all these blood images was both botched and brilliant. By substituting "love" for "blood," this new vocabulary demonstrates in an ironic but profound way that in Jesus Christ's blood, there is love. Love and blood have an intimate connection. The UCC hymnal admits that relationship when it consistently replaces "blood" with "love." However, it misses the power of this connection by wiping away bloodstains from the pages of their hymnal.
John refuses to clean up the messier moments that make up the whole of God's redeeming work through the Son. I John makes it clear that God did not bring salvation through a bloodless coup. It took water, blood, and wind (Spirit) to make the promise of eternal life a reality. God wrote the testimony of love in red. The church must not sanitize the realness of sacrifice for the sake of being politically correct. In a violent world, Christ's loving sacrifice has never been so powerful.
People are spiritually starved and frantically searching for any crumbs of hope and compassion. Yet, the church has often settled for sloppy, feel-good spirituality, something vague that costs little. To those caught amid this world's deepest troubles, to the denizens of our most violent neighborhoods, our most hopeless situations, the church has always had an answer as gritty and real as the nightly news.
‑‑ Christ knows about blood.
‑‑ Christ knows about death.
‑‑ Christ knows about violence.
‑‑ But Christ knows no defeat.
Jesus Christ experienced these portals of pain. Nevertheless, through the cleansing, healing, transforming power of divine love, Jesus broke their hold over humanity forever. Jesus' love for you and for me and for the world is "written in red."
Verse 1
In letters of crimson, God wrote His love
On the hillside so long, long ago;
For you and for me Jesus died,
And love's greatest story was told.
Chorus 1
I love you, I love you
That's what Calvary said;
I love you, I love you,
I love you, Written in Red
Verse 2
Down through the ages, God wrote His love
With the same hands that suffered and bled;
Giving all that He had to give,
A message so easily read.
Chorus 2
I love you, I love you,
That's what Calvary said;
I love you, I love you,
I love you.....
Bridge
Oh, precious is the flow, that makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know, nothing but the blood,
The blood of Jesus.
Chorus 1
I love you, I love you
That's what Calvary said;
I love you, I love you,
I love you, Written....In Red (hold out)
"Written in Red" by Gordon Jensen ((c)1990 Word Music), sung by Janet Paschal (1996)
[1] This idea that Jesus was “born” of the Father is so foundational to their thought that the references to “parent” and “child” here are in fact participle forms of the verb in either the active (“the one who brought to birth,” thus “parent”) or passive voice (“the one who was born,” thus “child”).
[2] It is not patently clear whether the "by this" in verse 2 refers to what precedes it or to what follows. If the phrase "by this we know that we love the children of God" goes with what precedes it, the implication is that the one who loves God will love the children of God. While this could make sense, the imperatives to love one another, which are peppered throughout the epistle (3:11, 23; 4:7, 11), would seem to imply that the community to whom the author of the epistle is writing has room to grow in the area of mutual love of Christian brothers and sisters.
[3] The Greek verb here translated by the NRSV as "obey" is more literally translated as "do" or "make." In a context where it may be that the epistle's audience is seeking a definitive way to know that they are fulfilling the author's appeals, a translation of "do the commandments" rather than "obey the commandments" may be more fitting.
[4] —Maria Popova, Brainpickings.org, September 9, 2009.
https://www.brainpickings.org/2014/09/09/wisdom-in-the-age-of-information/.
Retrieved December 4, 2020.
[5] Barth, Church Dogmatics IV.2 [37.2] 579.
[6] —N.T. Wright, Early Christian Letters for Everyone: James, Peter, John and Judah (Westminster John Knox, 2011), 163–165.
[7] One of the unique features of this passage within the Johannine literature is that it does use both the noun “faith” (, v 4) and the verb “believe” (πιστεύω). Indeed, within the gospel and letters of John the noun πίστις occurs only in this verse, whereas the verb πιστεύω is used 107 times (98 in the gospel, 9 in 1 John). Compare that pattern of usage to the rest of the New Testament where both noun and verb are each found 243 times but almost half (45 percent) of the total occurrences of the verb are found in the Johannine books but only 0.4 percent of the occurrences of the noun.
[8] The odd choice in verse 4 of "whatever" as a subject in relation to the verb "conquer" is exchanged in verse 5 for the more expected "who." Building upon the comments in verse 4, the author uses verse 5 to explicate who is able to conquer the world.
[9] --Desmond Tutu, God Has a Dream: A Vision of Hope for Our Time (Doubleday, 2004).
[10] Although there is no consensus among commentators as to the precise intention of the references to “the water and the blood” in 5:6, it seems likely that they do in some way relate to the insistence on the real physicality of Christ who is said to have come “by water and blood.” The mention of the blood, understood in this way, is almost certainly to Jesus’ crucifixion and so to the reality of his physical suffering and death. The mention of water might serve to emphasize this same point (cf. John 19:34-35), but the more natural reading of the statement, “not with the water only but with the water and the blood,” would suggest some contrast or at least distinction between their respective roles as witnesses (see 1 John 5:7-8). This distinction might be between Jesus’ baptism in water (which we know was construed by some Docetists as a moment when the spiritual Christ descended upon Jesus as a dove only to later withdraw from him before the crucifixion) and his death, or alternatively a distinction between his birth (having been “born of water”; cf. John 3:5-6) and his death.
Yet another possibility is that mention of “the water and the blood” is a symbolic reference to the rituals of baptism and the Lord’s Supper respectively. This interpretation was particularly popular among pre-modern interpreters of I John and has had its supporters among modern critical commentators as well. The chief difficulty with this understanding is that the Johannine literature does not have any explicit references to the institution of the practices such as are found in the synoptic gospels. Moreover, an insistence that Jesus Christ “came” by means of these ritual practices would seem to prioritize the spiritual work of Christ in the ongoing life of the community over work of Jesus Christ during his ministry that founds the community. The Johannine authors clearly believed in an ongoing spiritual presence of Christ with and leading the community (cf. John 16:4b-15), but that ongoing presence was only possible because of what Jesus had begun when he “became flesh and lived among us” (John 1:14).
[11] Some scholars suggest there were now‑lost connections between Jesus' role as Messiah and these properties of water and blood. This distinction might be between Jesus’ baptism in water (which we know was construed by some Docetists as a moment when the spiritual Christ descended upon Jesus as a dove only to later withdraw from him before the crucifixion) and his death, or alternatively a distinction between his birth (having been “born of water”; cf. John 3:5-6) and his death. Yet another possibility is that mention of “the water and the blood” is a symbolic reference to the rituals of baptism and the Lord’s Supper respectively. This interpretation was particularly popular among pre-modern interpreters of I John and has had its supporters among modern critical commentators as well. The chief difficulty with this understanding is that the Johannine literature does not have any explicit references to the institution of the practices such as are found in the synoptic gospels. Moreover, an insistence that Jesus Christ “came” by means of these ritual practices would seem to prioritize the spiritual work of Christ in the ongoing life of the community over work of Jesus Christ during his ministry that founds the community. John clearly believed in an ongoing spiritual presence of Christ with and leading the community (cf. John 16:4b-15), but that ongoing presence was only possible because of what Jesus had begun when he “became flesh and lived among us” (John 1:14).
[12] --C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (Zondervan, 1952), 198.
No comments:
Post a Comment