Today I focus on Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus, in John 3.

Nicodemus was a “leader of the Jews” which strongly suggests he was a member of “the” Sanhedrin (Gr. synhedrion or “council”).

The sanhedrin in Jerusalem, as it appears in the gospels, Josephus, and rabbinic literature, has been understood alternately as the high priests’ political council, the highest legislative body in Jewish Palestine, the supreme judicial court, the grand jury for important cases, the council of the Pharisaic school, and the final court of appeals in deciding halakic questions. Even the number of assemblies properly called “the sanhedrin” has been debated….The confusion concerning the number and character of the sanhedrin(s) is related to uncertainty about the structure and leadership of 1st century Jewish society in Palestine.- ABD, “Sanhedrin”

What do we know about Nicodemus?

Nicodemus is portrayed as a Pharisee who was also part of the ruling class in Judea (3:1), presumably a member of the Sanhedrin. John 19:39 implies that he was quite wealthy, and in 3:10 Jesus addresses him as the preeminent teacher of Israel. The above, combined with the fact that “rulers” and “Pharisees” are distinguished elsewhere in the gospel (cf. 7:48; 12:42), suggests that Nicodemus was a prominent figure within the governing group.- ABD, “Nicodemus”

John tends to like binaries, like good and evil, light and dark, day and night. Notably, when Nicodemus comes to speak with Jesus, it’s specifically said to be night. Some have read this negatively, to indicate that Nicodemus was evil or a coward.

Though Nicodemus is often portrayed as timid, Robinson (1985: 284) is probably correct in seeing him as quite courageous. Most likely, Nicodemus came by night, not out of fear, but to avoid the crowds that would have interrupted his interview with Jesus. His reaction to the council’s desire to arrest Jesus was boldly calculated to bring out the irony of their lawless act at the very moment in which they were ridiculing the lawless behavior of the “crowd” (7:49–51). And he certainly showed more courage at the Cross than did the absent Disciples of Jesus.- Ibid.

Nicodemus, apparently sincere, addresses Jesus respectfully. And then comes a conversation that is confusing to him, as well as us. Jesus says he must be born “again” or more literally “from above,” and Nicodemus doesn’t get it. Jesus expands on the idea… and we don’t know how the conversation ends. The scene fades out as Jesus talks. Does Nicodemus become a follower or disciple? Scholars differ.

Two points on being born again.
First, in Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic, there’s a bit of wordplay here, because the common word for “wind” is the same as “spirit,” Gr. pneuma (like pneumatic) and Hebrew ru’ach (that final -ch is guttural like loch). The text here says “the pneuma pneumas where it wants to, and you hear the sound of it, but do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the pneuma.”

Second, N.T Wright expounds on the rebirth.-

I have lost my birth certificate….
But, of course, the one thing that a birth certificate isn’t needed for is to prove that a birth took place. Here I am, a human being; obviously I must have been born. The fact that at the moment I can’t officially prove when and where is a minor detail.
When Christians discuss the ‘new birth’, the ‘second birth’ or the ‘birth from above’, they often forget this. Some people experience their entry into Christian faith as a huge, tumultuous event, with a dramatic build-up, a painful moment of decision and then tidal waves of relief, joy, exhilaration, forgiveness and love. They are then easily tempted—and there are movements of thought within Western culture which make this temptation all the more powerful—to think that this moment itself is the centre of what it means to be a Christian, as though what God wanted was simply to give people a single wonderful spiritual experience, to be remembered ever afterwards with a warm glow.
But that’s a bit like someone framing their birth certificate, hanging it on the wall, and insisting on showing it to everyone who comes into the house. What matters for most purposes is not that once upon a time you were born— though of course sometimes it matters that you can prove when and where you were born. What matters is that you are alive now, and that your present life, day by day and moment by moment, is showing evidence of health and strength and purpose. Physical birth is often painful and difficult, for the baby as well as for the mother. But you don’t spend your life talking about what a difficult birth you had, unless for some tragic reason it has left you with medical problems. You get on with being the person you now are.
So when Jesus talks to Nicodemus about the new birth, and when John highlights this conversation by making it the first of several in-depth discussions Jesus has in this gospel, we shouldn’t suppose that this means that we should spend all our time thinking about the moment of our own spiritual birth. It matters that it happened, of course. Sadly, there are many, inside the church as well as outside, whose present state suggests that one ought to go back to examine whether in fact a real spiritual birth took place at all. But where there are signs of life it’s more important to feed and nurture it than to spend much time going over and over what happened at the moment of birth.- Tom Wright, John For Everyone

(This is a great “popular” 18-volume NT commentary by Wright, which I picked up on Logos when it first came out.)

In other words, Wright says, while your spiritual rebirth is important, it’s the new and changed life you live after that rebirth that really matters.

Jesus continues into 3:16, perhaps the most frequently memorized and quoted verse of the New Testament- “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son…” We should not understand this “so” as “so much” but as “in this way” e.g. “Here’s how God loved the world; he gave his only begotten son…”

Tidbit–

John 4:24 has sometimes been a point of contention, as the KJV says that “God is a spirit” and other translations read “God is spirit…” This is contrasted with the LDS doctrine in D&C 130:22 (1843) which says that “The Father has a body of flesh and bones as tangible as man’s.” We can approach this two ways. We can opt for “line upon line”, that the NT reflects a belief in a disembodied god, because it hadn’t been revealed or made clear yet. After all, line-upon-line is probably what accounts for the potentially problematic statement in the Lectures on Faith c. 1835 (not written by Joseph Smith, btw), which contrasted the Father as a “personage of spirit” with the Son as a “a personage of tabernacle, made or fashioned like unto man, or being in the form and likeness of man.”

On the other hand, Israelites, early Christianity, and Judaism did not make a binary distinction or contrast between “spiritual vs physical”, and certainly thought God was embodied. Describing God as “spirit” does not, then, render him non-physical except through imposing a modern and popular distinction that doesn’t apply.  (I can dig up some references and reading if you’d like, otherwise see this further LDS discussion from FAIR here, here, and here. Cf. somewhere in How Wide the Divide.)

Lastly, as always, you can support this site and my research by making Amazon purchases through this link, or the Support My Research links at the bottom of the About page. You can get updates by email whenever a post goes up (subscription box on the right). If you friend me on Facebook, please drop me a note telling me you’re a reader.

Introduction

One of the pericope assigned this week is the story of the first disciples in the Gospel of John, the third and fourth days of the first week of Jesus’ mortal ministry, in imitation of the preparation for the giving of the Law in Exodus 19 and Pentecost (1:35-51). Immediately before this section, on days one and two, two important things happen. First, John is accosted by representatives of Jewish leadership who wonder why he is baptizing. After denying that he is any of the traditional Jewish eschatological figures, John indicates that he baptizes in preparation for the coming of someone who is greater than himself – indeed, he baptizes precisely to reveal this particular person (vv. 19-28; 31). This is his fundamental role as a witness to the Light that is coming into the world.

Second, John reports that he did baptize Jesus and that as he did so he saw that the Spirit descended on Jesus and remained. This is important because Jesus will eventually pass the Spirit to his disciples. John further fulfills his obligation as a witness by indicating that he understands that Jesus is “the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (v. 29). This is the only time Jesus is referred to as the Lamb of God, an odd designation since the sacrifice of lambs was not a sin offering, so perhaps the metaphor is really getting at the idea of reconciliation with God. In any case, the word “sin” is singular, indicating that the world really has only one sin, a failure to believe. One way to understand this is that Jesus takes away that sin by revealing the Father, which in turn discloses the darkness and false sense of life in which the world exists and prepares the way for its redemption.

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Come Follow Me has reordered and regrouped the reading from previous New Testament years. Unfortunately, I don’t have time to write completely all-new posts from scratch, so I’m going to try my best to adapt what I have.

In today’s episode of Gospel non-harmony, let’s examine how Andrew and Peter were called.

In Matthew, Jesus meets Peter and Andrew together, while they are fishing. He calls them,  they leave their nets to follow him. (James and John are nearby, and also called at this time, in Matthew.) In John, Andrew and an unnamed disciple (John?) are listening to John the Baptist. He identifies a passing-by Jesus as the Lamb of God, so Andrew and Unnamed follow him, engaging him in conversation, and staying with him all day. Andrew later goes to get Simon, telling him that they’d found the Messiah. Simon follows him to Jesus, who nicknames him Peter, a Greek name corresponding to kepha in Aramaic. The KJV represents kepha “KAY-fa” as Cephas, which Mormons pronounce “SEE-fuss.” You can hear Jesus address kepha in the opening Garden of Gethsemane scene in The Passion on Netflix, about 2:00 in. (I found it profitable and edifying to watch, though difficult at times. And it was fun to hear and understand some of the Aramaic.) What does the Jesus-given nickname Peter/Kepha mean? “Rocky.” Yes, the first Apostle was known to his friends and colleagues as “Rocky.” (Lengthy aside: Jesus will nickname James and John “the thunder boys” in Mark 3:17. And Paul’s name, btw, means “Shorty.” NT Wright makes mention of Jesus giving nicknames in his Simply Christian: Why Christianity Makes Sense–

When the early Christians told the story of Jesus—which they did in a number of ways to make a number of different points—they never actually said that he laughed, and only once that he burst into tears. But all the same, the stories they told of him constantly hinted at laughter and tears in fair measure. He was constantly going to parties where people had plenty to eat and drink and there seemed to be a celebration going on. He grossly exaggerated to make his point: here you are, he said, trying to take a speck out of your friend’s eye, when you’ve got a huge great plank in your own eye! He gave his followers, especially the leading ones, funny nicknames (‘Peter’ means ‘Rocky’; James and John he called ‘Thunder-boys’).

Now, back to the issue at hand. These two gospels give two completely different accounts of the first meeting and calling of these Apostles. Now, often by looking at differences, we can see how the differences seem to illustrate different points. But here, at least, I can’t tease out anything of the kind. John and Matthew just seem to be reporting the different stories that have come down to them, illustrating the dictum of Elder Widtsoe.

When inspired writers deal with historical incidents they relate that which they have seen or that which may have been told them, unless indeed the past is opened to them by revelation.- Evidences and Reconciliations, 127.

There are various ways to understand that last phrase, but the point to focus on is that people writing historically, even inspired ones, have to act as historians do, and use sources of various kinds and reliability, then weigh and interpret them. In a very useful introduction to history in the Ensign, Elder G. Homer Durham writes that

we should ask what is meant by “history”… [and] that history is at least two things: (1) a record of events and (2) the events themselves. The “events themselves,” which took place in the past, whether yesterday or 5,000 years ago, are beyond exact recall with our present facilities. We cannot re-experience an event. Thus, we are left with records of events, all of which are interpretations of events. (Even television involves a human judgment on where to point the camera.) Furthermore, despite the contributions of archaeology, linguistics, and the natural and social sciences, most history is a form of literature. Naturally, the most reliable records come from qualified participants in the events or from analysts with access to all the records, but their re-creation of the event for us will always be shaped by their own perspective…. The authors of “books” usually write to interpret events, rather than record them. Naturally they face even larger difficulties, since interpretations range from a straight-forward documentary analysis to pure fiction based on presumed facts. Thus every personal history, letter, journal, or inscription carries its own special value and the reader may add his own interpretations…. any history reflects the age in which it is written and the background of the person who writes.

Many people have inaccurate expectations and understandings about the nature of history and history writing, particularly when it comes to ancient standards of such. (For more on this, try V. Philips Long, The Art of Biblical History  and also Robert Alter’s Art of Biblical Narrative. Alter demonstrates the great literary quality of those texts we tend to read as straight clerk-written history, and gave me my email signature, “History is far more intimately related to fiction than we have been accustomed to assume.”) “History” is only one very very general genre descriptor, however.

a growing number of scholars maintain that biography is the only generic text type with which the gospel genre can be compared. Taking into account the objections raised against the comparison, it nevertheless appears that although the gospels fall short in literary style and language usage, they are nothing less than biographies. It has been argued, for example, that the gospel genre comes closest to the type of biography in which the purpose is to praise a person by accentuating his life, works, and teachings. –Anchor Bible Dictionary, “Gospel Genre”

If I appear to belabor a seemingly esoteric point about history (“really, could anything be more boring?”), it is purely out of pastoral concern. Our reading and understanding of the scriptures, and therefore our faith and actions, depends all too much upon our unrecognized assumptions and understandings of such esoteric points, at times to our great detriment. (Check out the comments illustrating this at a recent Times&Seasons post, where I comment as well.)

Lastly, as always, you can support this site and my research by making Amazon purchases through this link, or the Support My Research links at the bottom of the About page. You can get updates by email whenever a post goes up (subscription box on the right). If you friend me on Facebook, please drop me a note telling me you’re a reader.

Tidbit:

• This story provides some of the details about the fishing business co-owned by Peter. Jerome Murphy-O’Connor draws on these and other details to argue that Peter and some of the others were savvy businessmen who changed cities for a tax break. See his article here, from Bible Review (now Biblical Archaeology Review, well worth subscribing to. )

Third Lesson – again, only the Synoptic tradition is represented, this time by Matthew 2 and Luke 2. Thus, the six interrogations return differences in mostly nuance rather than major substance. This post is a reading of Matthew 2.  But why so early with this one? Well, I must repent for last week’s late posting. In my defense, I had a house guest who was introducing me to all sorts of debauchery such as staying up til 9 PM, eating bread, and reading fun books. I am now back to normal…such as it is…and school starts next Tuesday.

The story in Matthew 2 is familiar: the visit of the magi, Herod’s atrocious behavior culminating in the slaughter of the young children of Bethlehem, the divinely directed flight of the family into Egypt and subsequent return upon the death of Herod, and the decision to settle in Nazareth because Herod’s arbitrary and cruel son Archelaus ruled in Judea.

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Second lesson. As with the first lesson, we read for what insight into these six questions may be found in the selected passage:

What is wrong with human life?
What does God intend to do about it?
Who is Jesus that he can bring God’s plans to fruition?
What sort of a community is gathered around Jesus?
What sort of behaviors are expected of this community?
What does this community expect in the future?

Now I have been reliably informed by a friend of mine that I need to make some connections more explicit lest I sound like myself, which seems to be alarming state of affairs. 😉 I will attempt to do so…

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First lesson of 2015—where does the time go?

As Ben said, I’m an exegete, and I teach scripture for both general education and religion majors. Since the latter will go on to study broader topics in religion, including systematics and spirituality, I push into a bit of theology to help prepare them for other classes in the Christian tradition.

I think I will blog along with the GD lessons, at least as I have the time or energy to do so. However, I don’t intend to really blog the lessons themselves. Instead, I am going to work through the chosen selections (pericope) from the perspective of biblical theology rather than exegesis. Why? Mostly for me, to work out some things as I go – writing to learn, as they say. So I don’t know that it will be all that interesting but perhaps the occasional visitor who is also a GD teacher will see something curious or thought-provoking. And, as I said, I can’t promise to hit it every week – the paying job and other writing projects have to come first.

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First, I’m pleased to announce that I will be having guest bloggers joining me from time to time in the upcoming year. First up is Mogget, who was a co-blogger with me before I left FaithPromotingRumor, and has a PhD in Biblical Studies. Whereas my graduate studies were heavy on language and philology, Mogs actually had some theology and interpretation, so expect good-but-different things, very soon. Continue reading

The year is nearly over. As I look back, the struggle to write these out in a clear way on a weekly basis has been a challenge at times, but one that I think has been mutually beneficial. Writing is a great exercise. Sometimes it’s been hard to boil down or select from all the material I have, other times (coughIsaiahcoughcough), it’s been hard to generate enough new and useful material for posts. My goal has been to spread enthusiasm, knowledge of resources, understanding of the Old Testament, and in doing so, “prepare minds to be faithful” (Alma 48:7). Continue reading