22 At that time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem. It was winter, 23 and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon. 24 So the Jews gathered around him and said to him, "How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly." 25 Jesus answered, "I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father's name testify to me; 26 but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep. 27 My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. 28 I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. 29 What my Father has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father's hand. 30 The Father and I are one."
John 10:22-30,
part of a segment that extends to verse 39, is the story of Jesus at the Feast
of Dedication, with the theme of Jesus as Messiah and Son of God. John begins
by identifying this story as the time of the festival of the Dedication that took
place in Jerusalem. It was winter. Modern scholars have been divided on the
question of whether John’s association of this exchange between Jesus and “the
Jews” (that is, certain leaders in Jerusalem who, according to the account
here, have grave concerns about the direction of Jesus’ ministry) and the
“Feast of Dedication” is a genuine historical reminiscence or a bit of literary
artifice. Where there is general consensus is that there are two connections
between the content of the exchange and that particular feast, now commonly
known as Hanukkah.
In
light of the history of the church’s sometimes despicable treatment of the
Jewish people, it is unsettling for contemporary Christians to read the
repeated portrayal of the stubbornness and hostility of “the Jews” (e.g., 5:18;
7:1; 8:48-59; 18:12). Some scholars have attempted to soften the impact of
these references. For instance, scholars argue that the Greek word translated
“Jews” (Ioudaioi) should be understood
as referring to a particular group of ruling Jews from Jerusalem and thus
should be translated “Judeans” to avoid confusion with the whole Jewish people.
However, most arguments in this vein have met with mixed reviews. It is
probably more helpful to remember that at the time of the writing of the gospel
of John, the followers of Jesus were for the most part of a sect of Judaism
rather than a different religion. The group for whom the author wrote this
gospel quite clearly felt alienated from their fellow Jews because of their
confession of Jesus as Messiah, and they may even have been asked to leave
their synagogues because of it (see 9:22; 12:42; and 16:2). The polemical edge
of John was probably thus born in the context of an in-house conflict between
Jewish groups divided by the identity and significance of Jesus. However, once
Christianity emerged as a distinct religion over Judaism, the harsh portrayal
of “the Jews” in the gospel of John, divorced from the context in which it was
written, proved dangerously liable to misinterpretation. The task of every
exegete today is to recognize the gap between the original Jewish recipients of
this text and the independent religious tradition that included it in its
canon.
One
of the most significant differences between the gospel of John and the synoptic
gospels is the amount of time that Jesus spends in Jerusalem. In Matthew, Mark
and Luke, Jesus makes only one trip to Jerusalem — the fateful Passover
pilgrimage that ends in his crucifixion. In the gospel of John, by contrast,
the bulk of the narrative takes place in Jerusalem. Jesus makes several trips
to the Holy City (usually for a religious festival) and John shows Jesus in
each of these instances engaging in lengthy discourses with Jewish
interlocutors in the temple. It is during such a visit that the exchange found
in John 10:22-30 occurs.
22 At that time, the festival of the Dedication took place in
Jerusalem. It was winter. The Feast of Dedication, or Hanukkah,
commemorated the rededication of the temple by Judas Maccabeus. In the years
167-164 B.C., King Antiochus Epiphanes had erected an idol in the temple of God
(I Maccabees 1:41-64; II Maccabees 6:1-17). This profane idol had been placed
upon the altar itself (I Maccabees 1:54; II Maccabees 6:1-7), and its presence
defiled the whole temple. Judas Maccabeus took over the temple, built a new
altar, and rededicated this Holy Sanctuary on the 25th day of Chislev, that is,
December (I Maccabees 4:41-61). Jews celebrated it over an eight-day period.
The priests like Jason and Menelaus, whose negligence allowed such profanation
to occur (II Maccabees 4:7-29), may have been in mind when Jesus mentioned the
robbers or hirelings who care nothing for the sheep. Priests who have bought
their way into the office and who would stand to see the house of God defiled
surely are not good shepherds. Furthermore, as John 10:22-30 makes explicit,
people who would support such priests are not the sheep of the Good Shepherd.
23 Jesus was walking (peripaein, walking around) in the temple, in the portico of Solomon. This was the outermost part of
the Temple. Solomon’s portico was a covered walkway on the eastern side of the
temple mount. Jesus has adopted the posture of
a teacher or philosopher (Greek as in the “Peripatetic” philosophers). 24 So the Jews gathered around him. They "ringed
about him," "preventing his escape and with hostile purpose."
One translation reads, "The Jewish opposition circled around him." They said
to him, "How long will you keep us in suspense? Most of us can identify with this desire for plain
speaking. We express frustration when a politician does not give clarity. Philosophers
are notorious for not speaking plainly. Suspense is a tried-and-true
element of storytelling, so one often finds it in novels as well. If you are the Messiah, tell us
plainly." The
question of whether Jesus is the Messiah is similar to the one raised in Luke
22:67 by the council of elders during the trial of Jesus. 25 Jesus answered, "I have
told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father's name
testify to me; 26 but you do not believe, because you do not belong
to my sheep. The
reply of Jesus is significant in several respects. It shows the writer’s
awareness that Jesus did not in fact reveal himself as openly as is suggested
by the revelatory discourses in John. This impression arises solely because
they serve as explications of the faith. Connected with this text is the answer
Jesus gave to the same question before the High Council, as is related in Luke
22:68: If I tell you, you will not believe; and if I ask you, you will not
answer. Jesus does not really respond to their request; rather, he shifts the
location of the problem away from himself. There can be no plainer response
than “the works” that he is doing “in [the] Father’s name” that testify clearly
to who he is — clearly, that is, to those who “believe.” 27 My sheep hear my voice. I know
them, and they follow me. John offers an
understanding of referring all doctrine to reception by those to whom it is
addressed. Tradition and reception go hand in hand throughout the history of
Christian doctrinal proclamation on every level. Involved is explicit or
implicit testing of the agreement of the proposed doctrine with this basic norm
of Christian faith awareness, a reception that finally decides the reception or
not of a doctrine in the church.[1] 28 I give them eternal life, and
they will never perish. Christians have justification in
speaking of a hope for a future with God and a future with those whom we love. If
life with Christ is truly worth living, then death does not have the final
word. To deny such a hope is to cut ourselves off from the future and from the
past. No one will snatch them out of my hand. The
reference to sheep leads immediately to a reference about wolves. However, the model shepherd will not allow
anything to harm them. This section has a close connection with the subject of
shepherd and sheep. Yet, it is a strong unit by itself. That Jesus frames his
response in terms of the imagery of “sheep” may also relate to the festival
since the usual Scriptural readings in the synagogues at this time of year
related to shepherds. Within the context of this gospel there are also the two
attempts by Jesus himself to describe his relationship with the people using
the “figure of speech” of sheep and shepherds that his audience nevertheless
“did not understand” (v. 6). The evangelist sets the two uses of the sheep
imagery in the first part of the chapter (see vv. 1-6, and 7-18) on a different
yet proximate occasion (note the “At that time” and changes of setting in vv.
22-23) to the exchange begun in this passage (and that extends through v. 39).
Nevertheless, the evangelist tightly integrates this exchange with what has
come immediately before through the repetition of key words. The very fact,
then, that those who are questioning Jesus are unsure about whether or not he
is the Messiah is itself an indication that they do not belong to him and so
will not be able to believe in him. 29 What my Father has given me is greater than all else,
and no one can snatch it out of the Father's hand. There is a rather
notorious textual problem that gives rise to the differing translations of the
NRSV (“What my Father has given me is greater …”) and the NIV (“My Father, who
has given them to me, is greater …”). The manuscripts actually present four
variant readings, but they all hinge on the gender of the relative pronoun —
either o (neuter, “what”) or oV (masculine, “who”) — and the comparative
adjective “greater” that modifies it (meizon,
neuter; or meizwn, masculine). If, with
the NRSV, we follow this more difficult reading, then we should probably
understand the “what” as referring in a collective sense to those whom God has
given to Jesus who are seen as greater than all those who have not been so
given and so do not believe. Here in John’s gospel, then, the greatness of
those who believe as compared to those who do not arises directly and only from
God’s having given them to Jesus to be their “good shepherd” (v. 11) and to the
surety they can never be taken from him. Others will never be able to hear (in
the senses of understand and follow) his voice no matter how “plainly” he speaks
to them. 30 The Father and I are one."
This was an important text in respect to the formation of the traditional and
orthodox interpretation of the Trinity. Monarchians or Sabellians interpreted
it as saying that they were one person. Followers of Arius interpreted it as a
moral unity of will. The difficulty in these verses comes in the juxtaposition
of the expectation that those who hear Jesus and see his works should believe
(10:25) with the claim that those same people in fact cannot believe because
they are not of Jesus’ flock (10:26-30). This tension between a call to belief
and a seemingly deterministic outlook runs throughout the entire gospel
(e.g.,1:9-13; 3:16-21; 12:37-50). This apparent contradiction has long troubled
interpreters of the Fourth Gospel, but at the end of the day, one may need to
concede that the evangelist felt it necessary to affirm both the sovereignty of
God and the necessity for each person to believe in Jesus.
We need to do what
you know. We should examine our lives in the light of Scripture. Much of the
time, we can find direction for our lives in the Bible. Jesus told his
opponents that his sheep hear his voice and follow him. Since the Bible is one
place where we hear his voice, if we follow it as faithfully as we can, we are
part of the flock. It is not what I do not understand about the Bible that
troubles me; but what I do understand.[2] If
we spend time matching our lives to the parts of Scripture we do understand, it
is likely that some of our suspense about our spiritual state will dissolve. Of
course, it will not all dissolve. Psychologically speaking, some of us have
great difficulty letting go of the web of beliefs and values that have guided
our lives. Letting go can create the fear of losing an important part of
ourselves. Letting go can be our way of reaching out in hope for our best self.
Either way, the decision of faith to follow Jesus can create a certain amount
of suspense, tension, and uncertainty in us. What does Jesus really want from
us?
Sheep are
gregarious. Sheep will always band together and pretty much stay together when
grazing or moving around. They do not necessarily like each other. They find
security in numbers. “Get one to go and they’ll all go” is a principle that all
shepherds know and follow. Of course, we modern people are individualists. We
see the individual of supreme worth and dignity. Although this is true, it can
blind us to the equally important value of our connection to the community. We
are social animals who need each other. We need to belong. If we are not
careful, our individualism will lead to isolation and separation.
Ice Age is a 2004 animated film. An unlikely trio of animals, Diego
the saber-toothed tiger, who seems to have a hidden agenda, the casual Sid the
sloth and the brave Manfred the wooly mammoth, band together for survival as
the ice age begins. At least part of the story involves the value of being part
of a herd. In one scene (18:13 to 22:24), Sid and Manfred find a baby boy. The
mother has run from the saber-toothed tiger and jumped down a waterfall. They
see the baby, but suddenly the mother disappears into the river. Manfred is
ready to leave. Sid says he cannot leave, for he has saved the baby. Manfred
says that he is still trying to get rid of the last thing he saved, namely,
Sid. Sid says “we” need to return the baby to its herd. Manfred says, with
emphasis, “There is no us.” Manfred does not yet realize how important being
part of a herd will be to him. In another scene (54 to 56), Diego, the
saber-toothed tiger, jumps across a chasm. He starts to fall to a certain death
when Manfred grabs him and saves him. Manfred then falls, but remains alive.
“Why did you do that,” says Diego, “You could have died.” Manfred says, “That’s
what you do when you are in a herd. You look out for each other.” “Well,
thanks.” Sid says, “We are the weirdest herd I’ve ever seen.”
Every church is a weird
herd. We have differences. We may have trouble getting along at times. Yet, we
need each other – more than we may know.
Sheep are intelligent. They have remarkable memories, being able to pick out a
particular face in a line of pictures, if that face is associated with a food
reward. Some sheep remember up to 50 images for as long as two years, a sign of
higher of intelligence than many other farm animals.
Sheep have keen
hearing, which makes it possible for them to discern the voice of their
shepherd from among many others, and they will always move toward the
person they perceive to be a friend, particularly if that friend feeds the
sheep.
Sheep are not as
dumb as we think, unless they are scared. In fact, much of their reputation for
stupidity may come from when they are afraid. You see, they are afraid of
almost everything. No animal shows signs of intelligence when it is afraid.
Fear causes a flock to disintegrate, and when sheep are driven apart, they are
most vulnerable to predators.
I am
not particularly wise when I become anxious. I can do stupid things in that
setting. Human life is an anxious, fearful life. We will have a tendency to
isolate ourselves from the very people who can help us. The Good Shepherd gives
us the strength to move through times of struggle. As Psalm 23 reminds us, we
will go through the darkest of valleys, even that of death and the Good
Shepherd is with us. We will eat from a banquet, even though surrounded by
enemies.
Cattle ranchers
direct their herd by driving them from behind with hooting sounds from cowboys
and the cracking of the whip. That will not work with sheep. Sheep prefer
someone to lead them. The shepherd goes ahead of them, showing them that the way
is all right. Sheep are fond of their shepherds. The shepherd can walk through
a sleeping flock without disturbing a single sheep. A stranger can do nothing
without causing confusion. Sheep consider the shepherd part of the family. The
relationship that grows between them becomes exclusive. They develop a language
of their own. A good shepherd learns the various sounds of the sheep. The sheep
learn what the sounds of the shepherd mean. Bedouin shepherds bring their
flocks home from the various pastures they have grazed during the day. Often,
those flocks end up at the same watering hole around dusk, so that are all
mixed together. Eight or nine flocks will gather into a convention of thirsty
sheep. Their shepherds do not worry about the mixing of the flocks. When it is
time to go home, they issue their own distinctive call. Then, the sheep of that
shepherd separate themselves from the convention of sheep and follow their
shepherd home. They know to whom they belong. They know the voice of the
shepherd. The voice of their shepherd is the only voice they will follow.
If only we could be as smart as
sheep.
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