Posts Tagged ‘John’s gospel’

Whose light is it anyway?

January 1, 2022

Christmas 2 – 2022
John 1:1-18

In the name of God, whose radiant light will not be overcome by darkness. Amen.

“A candle says ‘no’ to the darkness.”

I have heard that in the dark days of apartheid in South Africa many people would place candles in their windows as a sign of solidarity and of hope. A candle, though the smallest of lights was an act of defiance, daring the darkness to win and declaring that no matter how difficult things were, how much opposition the people were facing or how resistant authorities were to change, the desire for justice and peace could not be extinguished and that despite violence, oppression and injustice right would win in the end. The candle, to those who lit it and to those saw it, was a sign, a reminder that their situation could not last forever and that no matter how oppressive or how brutal their current circumstances, they would (eventually) come to an end. The light was an assertion that evil could not and would not prevail.

John’s gospel begins, not with a birth narrative, but with a declaration that Jesus is the light of all people and that: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” It is an assertion that God has not abandoned God’s people and that no matter what the evidence to the contrary, evil will never triumph over good, and that light will always defeat the darkness. In Jesus, the light of God has entered the world

To a greater or lesser extent, the last two years have been a time of gloom for many of us, but they are nothing compared to the conditions which millions of people endure day after day, year after year. Our daily news reports are filled with stories of people risking life and limb to flee violence and injustice, of children and adults forced to make a “living” in conditions which are not only dangerous, but which will shorten their lives, of whole peoples enslaved and incarcerated, and of those enduring famine, war and civil strife.

Even in the wealthiest countries of the world there are thousands who are underpaid and overworked and who, no matter what, will never be able to escape the circumstances – over which they have no control – in which they find themselves. Here in Australia we know that women are trafficked into the sex industry and men are lured to work on farms and then are kept in conditions of near slavery. Hidden amongst us are thousands more who live lives of quiet desperation – carers who do not have enough income or support to have a life of their own, women (and men) caught up in domestic violence, and those who for whatever reason (lack of education, poverty) are prevented from finding fulfilment and happiness.
Overcoming the evil and injustice in the world around us too often seems an impossible task. On our own we cannot take on traffickers or foreign powers. We cannot bring peace to the Middle East, ensure the fair distribution of the world’s resources or stop climate change. In the face of so much suffering and inequity, it is easy to feel impotent and from this position of powerlessness to do nothing.

The problem is that doing nothing is in fact doing something. If we do not call out injustice and oppression we are, by implication supporting the status quo. Turning a blind eye to evil allows evil to continue. Nor is ignorance an excuse – we live in a world more connected than ever before. If we read a newspaper, listen to the news or connect to the world in any other way, we cannot escape the horror and despair that abound.

“The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.”

John uses the imagery of light and dark to great effect throughout his gospel. Light reveals the presence of God and offers hope to those whose lives are filled with despair, but the light also exposes deceit, and evil, weakness and complicity. Light threatens those who prefer to act in the dark. Light shines into our very being and uncovers the secrets of our hearts – our timidity, our prejudices and our fears. The light reveals those parts of ourselves that excuse us from acting and prevent us from naming the darkness and gloom that surrounds us.

This week Archbishop Desmond Tutu was called home to God. For our generation he was a light in the darkness. He was never afraid to speak truth to power, to expose wickedness and vice and to stand with the oppressed and disenfranchised. Despite the danger to himself, he was clear about what was right and what was wrong and nothing would deter him from pursuing a path of righteousness – the path to which he believed that we are all called as children of God.

God in Jesus, immersed Godself fully in our broken world – choosing not to be protected by wealth and power, but identifying with the poor and dispossessed. God in Jesus could have conformed to the laws and customs of his day. He could have chosen silence over confrontation and in so doing he might have kept his life. But the light of the world sees the world as it is and longs to bring God’s healing balm to places of darkness and despair.

The light that shines in the darkness is not intended simply for you or for me – a sign of hope to sustain in the dark. It is, as the gospel says, for all people. May it shine in our hearts, revealing (and freeing us from) our inner darkness that we might in our turn be light to the world.

Inviting others to meet Jesus

January 16, 2021

Epiphany 2 – 2021

John 1:43-51 (you might like to begin at 35)

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us to into relationship with God and with each other. Amen.

Those of you who pay attention to detail will have noticed that our Gospel readings this year have changed from Matthew to Mark. According to the lectionary we are now in Year B. Throughout this year we will be reading from Mark’s gospel and hearing this author’s particular slant on Jesus’ life and teaching. Why then, you might ask, does today’s gospel come from the gospel of John? The answer is this. We have a three-year cycle which allows us to give one year each to Matthew, Mark and Luke. Because there is considerable overlap between the three Synoptic gospels, it is possible to manage one gospel a year. The lectionary omits at least some repetitions. For example, in Year A we read Jesus’ parable of the talents as recorded by Matthew but in Year C we do not read Luke’s account of the same parable. 

Mark is the shortest of the three synoptic gospels – 12 chapters shorter than Matthew in fact! This allows room for John’s gospel to be read in Year B – this year. During both Lent, and the season of Easter, we will be reading from the gospel of John. This allows us to cover all four gospels over the three-year period. 

John’s gospel is quite different from the Synoptic gospels as is very evident in today’s reading. I’m sure that if I asked you to tell me about Jesus’ calling of the disciples, you would repeat the story of Jesus’ walking by the lake and calling the fishermen – Peter and Andrew, James and John – from their fishing and you would remember that Jesus said that he would make them “fish for people”. If, however, John’s was the only gospel available to us, we would tell quite a different story. John’s version of events begins not with Jesus, but with John the Baptist Jesus doesn’t call people, they come to him and, having come to believe, bring others to Jesus. It is, as Jerome Neyrey points out, a pattern of evangelisation that is repeated four, if not five times in the gospel.[i]

Neyrey identifies the following pattern:

  • A believer in Jesus evangelizes another person (2) by using a special title of Jesus. (3) The evangelizer leads the convert to Jesus (4) who sees the newcomer and confirms his decision. (5) The conversion is sealed.

I am grateful for the insight, but I would word it differently.  A believer tells another person about Jesus (1) using a title that that person would recognise (2). He or she brings that person to Jesus who (3), in some way engages them (4) in such a way that they too come to believe (5). Whichever way you choose to look at it, John appears to be describing evangelism – bringing people to faith. 

The link to the article from which I have drawn this argument gives a fuller story, but in summary, the four/five examples are as follows.

John the Baptist (1), who has earlier recognised Jesus (Jn 1:34) draws the attention of two of his disciples to the “Lamb of God” (2). The disciples follow Jesus (3) and are convinced that the Baptist is right (4). They then become followers of Jesus (5).  In the second example, one of the original two, Andrew (1) finds his brother and tells him that they have found the “Messiah” (2). He brings Peter to Jesus (3). In this instance, Jesus’ acknowledges Peter and gives him a new name (Cephas) (4) which draws him into Jesus’ band of followers (5). Our third example is abbreviated. We are not told who finds Philip (Andrew or Peter) and Jesus is not given a title, but Philip’s discipleship is confirmed by Jesus – “follow me”.

Finally, at least in terms of those who become numbered among the twelve, is Nathaniel. Again, someone who already believes, in this instance Philip, (1) tells Nathaniel that “we have found the one about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote (2).” Despite Nathanael’s resistance, Philip brings Nathaniel to Jesus (3), Jesus engages Nathaniel in discussion (4) and promises him that he will witness extraordinary things thus affirming him as a member of the twelve (5).  

A further example of one person bringing others to faith is found in the account of the woman at the well who, having met Jesus, tells her community (1) about the “Messiah” (2). The community come to see Jesus for themselves (3), listen to Jesus (4) and come to faith for themselves (5).

John’s account of discipleship provides a model for evangelism or mission in every age – those who know and believe in Jesus, introduce their families, friends and communities to Jesus, using expressions that would lead them to understand who Jesus is. In turn, those who are introduced to Jesus come to faith themselves. 

If the church of the 21st century is shrinking rather than growing, perhaps it is because we have not learnt from John that we bring others to faith simply by bringing them to Jesus and letting him do the rest.


[i] John J. Pitch https://liturgy.slu.edu/2OrdB011721/theword_cultural.html

A matter of timing

March 28, 2020

Lent 5 -2020

John 11:1-45
Marian Free

In the name of God Earth-Maker, Pain-Bearer, Life-Giver. Amen.

In Year A our Lenten readings come from the gospel of John. I have always felt that over the course of Lent, these readings rise to a crescendo before everything comes tumbling down. We begin with Nicodemus’ question in the dead of night, which is followed by the debate with the Samaritan woman at noon, the healing of the blind man and now, today we witness the raising of Lazarus. In John’s gospel debates about who Jesus is are followed by the opening of eyes and the the revelation that not even death is an obstacle to Jesus’ compassion and his ministry. We seem to be soaring towards victory – is there any Jesus cannot do! And yet, as we go on to see, Jesus’ triumph is only temporary and it leads not to glory, but to the cross.

As is the case with John’s gospel as a whole, this chapter has many layers and can be seen from many different angles. On the surface is the story of Lazarus – his illness, his death and his being brought back to life. A closer look reveals the import role of the two women, his sisters – Martha (who names Jesus as the Christ) and Mary who has anointed Jesus for burial. Their place in the story suggest that they were leaders in their community.

When we look deeper and consider this passage in the light of the gospel as a whole, we can see that the situation surrounding the raising of Lazarus is much more complex than at first appears. Underlying the retelling of the miracle and the relationship between the women and Jesus, there is an atmosphere of foreboding. Jesus knows that the closer he gets to Jerusalem, the closer he gets to those who wish to kill him. The more he is exposed to the religious authorities, the more his life is in danger.

From almost the beginning of John’s gospel John makes it clear that Jesus is perceived as a threat to the establishment and that his own life is in jeopardy as a consequence. While the crowds might be drawn to him, the religious leaders see him as a menace. Why else would Nicodemus have come to Jesus at night? The leaders are disturbed that Jesus is making more disciples than they which forces Jesus to leave Jerusalem. Then when he returns, Jesus gets into even more trouble because he heals a lame man on a Sabbath. As a result, not only do the the Judeans begin to persecute him (5:15) but they ‘were seeking all the more to kill him’ (5:18). The establishment were affronted because Jesus blatantly ignored the Sabbath law and even worse, identified himself with God! Such heresy could not be accepted or condoned. Jesus does not defend himself but instead seems to deliberately antagonize the religious leaders. He accuses them of not understanding the prophets or the testimony of scripture and of not having the love of God in them! It is little wonder that they wanted to be rid of him.

Later, despite the urging of his brothers, Jesus is reluctant to return to Jerusalem to attend the Festival of the Booths (7:1f). He is aware that the Judeans are seeking to kill him, and he would rather stay in Galilee where he is safe. In actual fact he does go up but in secret not, as his brothers had hoped so that ‘his disciples could see the works that he was doing’. While there, even though he knows himself to be at risk, Jesus does teach in the Temple further alienating the religious authorities who try to arrest him but fail. When, at the end of the eighth chapter, Jesus claims to have existed before Abraham, the Judeans pick up stones to throw at him.

All this tells us that Judea in general and Jerusalem in particular are places to be avoided by Jesus at all costs and explains why Jesus takes two days before deciding to go to see his friend. Bethany (the home of Lazarus) is too close to Jerusalem for comfort. Even Thomas is aware of the potential danger, announcing, “Let us also go, so we may die with him.” Jesus might be able to save Lazarus but in doing so, he will sign his own death warrant. It is not a journey to be taken lightly. The raising of Lazarus might be the high point of his ministry, but it will also be the final nail in Jesus’ coffin (cross) – for which of the religious leaders will be able to cope with such blatant competition?

There is yet another layer or another thread to this story and the gospel as a whole. Jesus’ life might be in danger, but he remains in control of the situation. As was the case when his brothers encouraged him to go to Jerusalem, Jesus will go to Bethany in his own time and on his own terms. It is not fear or arrogance or laziness that keeps him away. As with everything in his life, for Jesus the timing must be right – not his timing but God’s. (‘My time has not yet come’ 2:4, 7:6, 8 is a constant refrain.)

We are living in unprecedented times. Many of us are anxious and unsettled. We cannot see the future and feel as if we have lost control of aspects of our lives.

Jesus took control by ceding control to God. He refused to be pushed and pulled into doing what others wanted him to do but remained focused on his mission. He placed himself entirely in God’s hands and, having made that decision, did not waver no matter what the temptation (to save his friend, to save his own life). There are things at this time that are beyond our control – who we see, whether we can work, how far we may travel. What we can control is how we respond, how we feel and how much we trust God to bring us through.

If we have never faced anything like this then we have been truly blessed. In the midst of this anxious and confusing time, let us hold fast to our faith, place our lives in the hands of God and understand that his timing is not our timing and his ways are not our ways.

 

Jesus at a wedding

January 19, 2013

Epiphany 2, 2013

Wedding at Cana – John 2:1-11

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who showers us with abundant blessings and reveals himself to us through his Son Jesus. Amen.

 

I don’t need to tell you that I know a great deal about weddings. Not only do I conduct numerous weddings but I had a hand in planning my wedding and have been involved in the planning of my children’s weddings. Even quite simple ceremonies take quite a deal of planning. A bare minimum requires the signing of the Notice of Intent at least one month before the ceremony, arranging a celebrant a venue and two witnesses. Anything more elaborate also involves deciding on the number of guests, sending invitations, choosing music, booking a reception centre, selecting a menu, organizing a cake, making or purchasing a dress, hiring or buying a suit, buying shoes and flowers, planning the seating arrangements, thinking of and inviting someone to be an MC and hopefully planning a honeymoon. For those who want to go to more trouble cars need to be hired, a photographer booked, wedding favours made or purchased, bridesmaid’s dresses made or bought and the list goes on (and on).  No wonder people find it stressful, I’m exhausted just listing what needs to be done!

Weddings in the first century were quite different, but I presume that they also required a great deal of planning. From what we can re-create from the literature available, it appears that in the first century all of the village would have been invited and the festivities would have lasted for seven days. The celebrations would have started, not at 3pm at an appointed time, but whenever the friends of the bridegroom arrived with the bride. One can only imagine the sort of organisation that would go into such an event. Feeding a large crowd over a number of days would involve a considerable amount of preparation – beasts would have to be chosen, slaughtered, prepared, and cooked, bread and sweets would have to be made and enough wine procured. Other arrangements such as dowries would have had to have been settled long beforehand.

It is interesting that the first event in Jesus’ life that is recorded by the author of John’s gospel is that of a wedding not a healing. What is more, the story raises a number of questions – not least of which is why the hosts ran out of wine. Were the groom’s parents really so unprepared as to not have enough to drink, or was it, as some suggest, that Jesus and the disciples did not observe the tradition of bringing a contribution to the festivities? Other questions arise: Whose wedding was it? Why was Mary concerned about the lack of wine if she was not the host? Why does Jesus address his mother in such an abrupt way: “woman”? Scholars have had a field day with the question of Mary’s interference in the festivities. It is this story that has led to the theory (used by Dan Brown) that Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene. If this were the case, it would explain Mary’s concern with the wine – she is the host of the celebration. It is her responsibility to have catered adequately for the party, it is her reputation that will be harmed if she proven to be an inadequate host. This is why Mary notices the shortfall and looks to Jesus for a solution.

Commentaries on John’s gospel provide answers to some of these questions, but the real key to the story lies not in the specific details, but in the evangelist’s purpose in recording it. The heart of the account is not Jesus’ relationship with his mother, nor is it the miracle itself, nor even the vast quantity of wine that results. The last line of the story tells us that its primary purpose is the revelation of the person of Jesus – to the disciples who are present and to those who will read the account later.

From start to finish, the author of John’s gospel is intent on making known that Jesus is the one who is to come, the one sent by God to bring salvation to the world and eternal life to those who believe. As we learn in chapter 20, John’s gospel is written: “so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.” So the purpose of the first of Jesus’ miracles recorded by John is to bring people to faith in him.

Unlike the Synoptic Gospels which begin with Jesus’ healing the sick and casting out demons, John begins with a wedding and a miracle of abundance. What is not readily obvious to us will have been clear to Jesus’ disciples and would certainly have been plain to those for whom the Gospel was written. Through the use of symbol and allusion, John portrays Jesus as the one who will bring the redemption promised by God. For example, as today’s reading from Isaiah indicates, marriage is a sign of the restoration of Israel – the people will be the bride and God the groom, their shame will be taken away and they will be able to hold their heads high among the people. A wedding and a feast imply that Jesus is the one who was to come.

Elsewhere, Jesus speaks of the danger of putting new wine into old wine skins. Wine replacing water is suggestive of a new and different era replacing the old. Lastly, the water to which Jesus refers is stored in stone jars, jars which because they were not porous and could not be contaminated, held the water used for the ritual of purification. John’s readers would have understood the illusion – Jesus’ salvific action replaces the need for repeated ritual purification. Through Jesus, the people have been put right with God for all time.

In the written account at least, and possibly in the actual event, all of these images would have spoken to the disciples of the fact that God, through Jesus, was doing something new. Something that has been pointed to by the prophets was now a reality in the life and presence of Jesus. Through allusions to OT expectations John presents Jesus as God’s answer to all that has been promised. He suggests that through Jesus the relationship between the people and God has been healed, the promised banquet has begun, the forsakennness of Israel has been supplanted by marriage and that because of Jesus the need for purification has become redundant.

So you can see, there is so much more to this wedding than a miracle. The wedding allows Jesus glory to be revealed which in turn leads to the disciples’ belief in him. The revelation of Jesus in John’s gospel has one purpose and one alone, that those who see and those who hear come to believe that Jesus is the Son of God.

A miracle-worker does not change the world. Someone who turns water into wine does not bring about the salvation of humankind. The extraordinary thing about Jesus, as John’s gospel will make clear over and over again, is that he and the Father are one and that through him, the world is redeemed and the relationship with God is restored.

When it gets too hard do you wish to go away?

August 19, 2012

Pentecost 12

John 6:51-58

Marian Free

 In the name of God – source of life, wisdom and joy. Amen.

 “Do you also wish to go away?” Jesus’ question to his disciples in verse 67 catches us by surprise. These are the people with whom he has chosen to share his mission, his most private moments. In their turn, they have chosen to follow him despite what others might think. Why would they now want to go away? Today’s gospel helps us to understand the lead up to Jesus’ question. In fact, we have to go back to the beginning of chapter 6 to see how the tension builds to the point where some disciples leave Jesus and Jesus is forced to ask the remainder if they too wish to leave. The author of John’s gospel records the account of the feeding of the five thousand and Jesus’ walking on the water as do the other three gospels. According to the author of John, the crowds which have been following Jesus, discover that he is on the other side of the lake and pursue him. This provides Jesus with an opportunity to challenge their self-centredness and to elaborate on his role and his mission.

Jesus perceives that the crowds are primarily interested in what he can do for them – provide food, heal the sick and so on. These signs, while important, are not the real reason that Jesus is here. He challenges those who have followed to seek the deeper meaning of Jesus’ presence among them. Bread sustains the body for a limited time. Jesus asks his listeners to consider the sort of food that will sustain them in the present and more importantly for eternity. He asks them to look beyond their physical needs for sustenance and to seek the food that endures – the spiritual food that sustains the soul. This is the food that he provides to those who seek it.

As part of this argument, Jesus claims to be the ‘bread of life’. We are so familiar with this concept that it can be difficult for us to understand how such a discussion could create the sort of offense that would cause some of Jesus’ disciples to abandon him and Jesus to ask if others too wish to go away. Jesus as the ‘bread of life’ provides us with strength and courage, spiritual nourishment and support.  Perhaps if Jesus had left the argument there his disciples would have remained with him. However, Jesus has claimed to be the bread from heaven which endures forever – unlike the manna in the wilderness which sustained the Israelites in the present, but which was unable to give them eternal life. Among his listeners would have been those who would have heard Jesus’ suggestion that he was more important than – in fact that he had superseded Moses.

If that claim were not confronting enough, Jesus makes the even more disturbing claim: “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this brad will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh. Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.” Not only is the idea of eating flesh and drinking blood utterly repulsive, it is impossible for Jesus’ audience to grasp such a difficult and distressing concept. Many of them know Jesus, they know his mother and his father. They know that he is a human being like themselves – how can he say that he has come down from heaven? It is impossible for them to even begin to conceive that it is possible, let alone necessary for them to consume this man’s flesh and blood if they are to have eternal life! No wonder many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him! They say: “This teaching is difficult, who can accept it?”

They have failed to understand that Jesus, through this dramatic and uncomfortable language, Jesus is asking his followers not to physically eat him, but to become one with him, to allow him to become so much a part of them that it is as if they are indeed one flesh and blood. Eating and drinking are metaphors for this complete unity. In some way faith is a process of somehow absorbing Jesus into our lives and allowing our lives to be absorbed into that of Jesus.

Eating and drinking are strong images, but they are not totally unfamiliar. We say to children: “I could just eat you!” We don’t mean that literally, we just mean that we love them so much that we don’t want to be separated from them. This is the sort of relationship that Jesus is asking his disciples (and us) to have with him.

It is at this point that Jesus asks those who remain: “Do you also wish to go away?” To which Peter responds: “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.  We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.” Peter, who so often fails to understand, who so often gets it wrong has cut to the core. He may not always understand what Jesus has to say, but he knows what Jesus means – to himself and to the world. Peter may not really understand Jesus’ teaching at this point, but he is sure of one thing – that there is nowhere that he would rather be, nowhere else that he would receive the sort of spiritual guidance that he has found in Jesus. He knows that in the present and in the future, it is his relationship with Jesus that has opened the doors of heaven.

I suspect that it is the same for us. There may be times when we do not understand – when scripture seems too difficult, when the events of our lives or the lives of others seem inexplicable – but we with Peter know that Jesus is the means to eternal life. We have thrown in our lot with Jesus, and nothing in this life or the next will separate us.

 

 

 

 

Knowing Jesus – being part of the story

July 28, 2012

Pentecost 9

John 6:1-21

Marian Free

In the name of God who is the end of all our stories. Amen.

 There is a wonderful movie called “When Harry met Sally”. It is about two graduates who share a ride to New York, separate, meet again, separate and finally admit that they want to spend their lives together. I watched the movie again recently and was reminded that one of Harry’s habits was that he liked to read the end of a book first. He couldn’t stand the suspense of waiting until the end to see how everything worked out, so he would read a few pages at the beginning and then turn to the end before going back to where he had left off.

When I first saw the movie I couldn’t believe that any one could spoil a good read by jumping ahead in that way. However, I have to acknowledge that there are times when I’ve been compelled to ask someone whether or not a book ends well because the suspense is too much for me. I don’t want to know the ending exactly, but I do want to prepare myself to know if, for example, the central characters are going to completely damage their relationship or whether they eventually get it together. If I know that it is all going to end well, then I can cope with the stresses along the way! I have to confess that on one occasion it took me several weeks to read the end of a book, not because I was anxious about the ending, but because I had guessed what the ending was going to be and knew that it would spoil the whole book!

For most of us, knowing the end of a story spoils our enjoyment of it. In fact, reviewers now have an expression: “here comes the spoiler”‘ which acts as a warning for us to stop listening, watching or reading because the end of the story is about to be revealed.

John’s Gospel should perhaps come with such a warning. Throughout John’s gospel we are given a glimpse of the community in the present – the risen Jesus, the Jesus known by believers in the present – makes his presence known in the gospel as much, if not more than, the Jesus of history. This is because the author of John, unlike the authors of Matthew, Mark and Luke, writes from the perspective of a community which understands the historical Jesus as a result of knowing the risen Christ. Jesus is understood and taught from the perspective of those who know the risen Jesus. That is, the end of the story determines the way in which the story is told. That is not to say that the communities of the other gospels did not know the risen Christ and that they did not read that knowledge back into the story as they told it. It just means that they wrote their gospels from a different perspective. The writers of the Synoptic Gospels knew the end of the story but they wrote, by and large, as if they did not.

The account of feeding of the five thousand occurs in all four gospels. In fact in some gospels there are two accounts of miraculous feedings – the feeding of the five thousand and the feeding of the four thousand. Likewise in all four gospels the account of Jesus’ walking on the water is attached to the feeding of the five thousand.

John’s account has some marked differences from the other three. His detail of where the event occurred is more specific. He tells us that the Passover was near – a symbol that is associated with Jesus’ death. In John two disciples, Philip and Andrew, are mentioned by name. The emphasis in John is on the abundant provision of bread rather than the miracle itself. After the feeding, the disciples choose to go on ahead while Jesus withdraws by himself. There is a strong wind, but the disciples are more frightened of Jesus than they are of the storm.

A number of other factors in John’s re-telling stand out. These are what lead scholars to believe that the story is being interpreted in the light of the present situation – that of a community which knows the risen Christ. For example, in John’s account Jesus is completely in control. He is not trying to escape the crowds and they don’t reach the spot before him. It is Jesus, not the disciples who notices the hunger of the crowds and he doesn’t send the disciples to buy food to feed them.

In John’s gospel, Jesus sees the crowds coming, takes the initiative and asks Philip where they can buy bread. However, he does not expect an answer, because he already knows what he is going to do. The Jesus of John doesn’t waste time. As soon as he sees the crowds coming he wonders about feeding (not teaching) them. After they are fed, the crowds declare Jesus to be the prophet who is to come into the world. All this is in contrast with the other gospel writers who emphasize Jesus’ compassion, have Jesus teach and heal before the crowds are fed, and who stress the fact that the disciple’s misunderstand the meaning of the bread.

John’s concern in re-telling the story is less with the miracle itself and more with the question of the identity of Jesus. Even though they get it wrong, the recognition of Jesus by the crowds is an important part of the story. The crowds identify Jesus not just as a miracle worker, but as the prophet who is to come into the world. Mistakenly, they seek to make him king, but he is not the sort of king that they expect.

At the same time, the multiplication of the loaves provides an opportunity for teaching  – something that is a common feature in John’s gospel.  The Jesus of John doesn’t teach and heal the crowds and then feel obliged to feed them because he has kept them so late. In John the crowds are fed first. The miracle of the feeding provides the illustration and sets the scene for the teaching that is to come. (For the remainder of this very long chapter, Jesus will explain the meaning of the bread, claim to be the bread of life and demand that people identify completely with him by eating his flesh and drinking his blood. In fact, as we will discover the teaching is so difficult that it separates the Jesus’ true followers from those who just want what Jesus can do for them.)

As in Matthew and Mark, John’s account is followed by Jesus’ walking on the water. Again there are a number of differences in John which suggest an interpretation by the post-resurrection church. Two features stand out – Jesus comes to the disciples (as he does after the resurrection) and the key to the story is the recognition of Jesus by the disciples (they don’t mistake him for a ghost). When Jesus walks towards the boat the disciples are terrified, but when they know it is Jesus, they try to get him to come into the boat with him.

Their recognition of Jesus also serves to separate the disciples from the rest of the world. The disciples recognise Jesus for who he is, whereas the crowds see him as they want to see him. The crowds judge Jesus by worldly not other-worldly categories, they can see him only in earthly terms. The disciples know the deeper, spiritual significance of Jesus, and understand that as a result of such knowing they are set apart as the community that follows in his name.

Like the gospel writers, we too know the end of the Jesus’ story. Like the community for whom John’s gospel was written, our lives and our understanding of Jesus are determined as much by the Jesus who is present with us, as they are by our knowledge of the historic Jesus. The story of the historical Jesus is essential for our understanding of our faith, but it is the risen Jesus who informs, teaches, challenges and guides all that we do in the present.

Our present is the end of the story so far, our past is already a part of the story, and our future will determine how the story is told. In fact our future may determine whether or not the story continues to be told.

May we live in such a way that the story known through us is a story which is filled with the transforming power of the risen Christ in our lives.

(I am indebted to L.Th. Witkamp “Some Specific Johannine Features in John 6:1-21.” in Journal for the Study of the New Testament, 40 (1990) 43-60. for some of the ideas above.)