Bartering Faith in John 21

Simon the Wannabe:

The Barter Scene in John 21:15-19 in the Syriac Aramaic

 

By James David Audlin.  The following text comprises material from: The Works of John Restored and Translated, published by Editores Volcán Barú. Copyright © 2014 by James David Audlin. All worldwide rights reserved. Reprinted here by permission of the publisher, Editores Volcán Barú.

http://audlinbooks.com/about-james-david-audlin/nonfiction-james-david-audlin/

 

 

Jesus wants Simon to know that what he is about to say is very, very serious. Thus he notably does not refer to Simon by his nickname “the Rock”, which he jestingly gave him at the beginning of the gospel. Rather, he speaks in a formal way, getting Simon’s attention with his formal name, σιμονιωαννου (Simon Iōannou), in effect Simon son of John, in those days the equivalent to saying one’s surname. More than that, this formal naming is to remind Simon of his father, John the Immerser (who is just called “John” in John’s gospel; he is usually today called the Baptist, that being an approximate transliteration of the Greek word, which lacks any meaning in English), who three times in the first chapter of the gospel affirmed Jesus’s status as Messiah.

But the Aramaic has Jesus call Simon by a very different formal name, one that makes it even clearer how very serious he is! The Syriac Sinaiticus has Jesus call him ܫܡܥܘܢ ܒܪܗ ܕܝܘܢܢ (Shimon bar d’Ywnn), which other translators have always put into English as “Simon son of John” or else “Simon son of Jonah”. The problem is that Simon’s father’s name is always spelled ܝܘܚܢܢ (Ywḥnn, Yochanan, equivalent to John in English) in the gospel, including in the identical phrase “Simon son of John” at John 1:42, and every time John the Immerser is mentioned in the gospel. This is, in fact, also the case everywhere in the New Testament: John is always called ܝܘܚܢܢ – except only here. The name “John” means “God has been gracious”; it is not related to the name “Jonah”, which comes from the word ܝܘܢܐ (yawnā, “dove”). If Jesus is calling him “son of Jonah”, the reference is to the tale of Jonah, whose three days inside the sea monster have been taken since very early in Christianity as prefiguring Jesus’s three days in death (see The Gospel of John, page 574).

The slightly later Peshitta is almost the same; it calls him “son of (the) dove”, ܝܘܢܐ (yawnā), the word from which the name Jonah is derived. And the overt reference to “dove” here is all but certainly a reference to Mary, Jesus’s wife. Jesus refers to his disciples as his children, and thus by extension they are the spiritual children of Mary as well. And Mary is frequently equated in the gospel with a dove, especially in the baptism scene (see the “dove” references in the index on page 1082 of The Gospel of John).

As a result, the suggestion here is that Simon was the son of John the Immerser, not only literally but as his disciple (John 1:35-42), but now he is the disciple of Jesus-and-Mary, who since the resurrection are one person in the image of the male-and-female-as-one Elohim. And this status is implied with the one word, Jonah/dove. Therefore, Jesus is not only formally addressing Simon by his legal name to get his attention and to say the ensuing conversation is highly serious; Jesus is also reminding him that he is his spiritual child, his disciple, and so required to obey Jesus(-and-Mary) in all things; thus, whatever Jesus demands of Simon he must do, and it is really not a matter for bartering and bargaining.

But that, of course, is exactly what transpires in the next verses: Simon the businessman turns Jesus’s demand into haggling, the kind of negotiations he would often have engaged in at fish markets, selling his hauls wholesale. More than that, the reference to Mary here, as dove, remains relevant. As we shall see, in these next verses Jesus will again implicitly refer to Mary, and the subsequent exchange (21:21-22) will be overtly about her; in fact, this entire letter was written to “clear the air” about Mary in regard to what Simon was told about her by Jesus. Jesus, as shall be discussed, is about to demand Simon to make peace with Mary (with whom he is often contentious), and moreover to become one with Jesus in the love of αγαπη, as Mary already has.

Nor is this all. When Jesus calls Simon ܒܪܗ ܕܝܘܢܢ (bar d’ywnn), the same word ܝܘܢܢ (ywnn) also can mean someone who has learned to speak Greek or someone who is not really a Greek but is trying to be a Greek – what today is called a “wannabe” (cf. R Payne Smith’s Aramaic dictionaries). And the wordܒܪܗ (bar), which usually means “son of”, can mean someone who is a member of a certain group or class. Thus Jesus is also accusing Simon of being one of the “wannabe Greek” class, a Galilean who thinks his nouveau riche financial success can buy him acceptance as a member of the larger Græco-Roman society. Becoming a Greek was indeed the goal of many wealthy Judæans, such as Buni, one of the two or three most prosperous Jews in Jerusalem, and who spoke fluent Greek and went by the name Nicodemus (cf. The Gospel of John, pages 226-28). And being a wannabe Greek is in fact the very criticism that Paul lobs at him in Galatians 2, as will be discussed below; Paul, in fact, was trying to go in the other direction: he was one of the Herodians, a group who had no Hebrew ancestry but who wanted to be accepted as Jews! By making this “wannabe Greek” insinuation, Jesus is implying the very question he is about to ask, if the businessman Simon, interested mainly in making lots of money, who negotiates hard, refusing to be flexible, and gets what he wants, “loves me more than these”, the fish and the money they will earn him. In this scene Simon fails: he negotiates hard with Jesus, refusing to be flexible, and offers to love Jesus with φιλια, but not with the αγαπη that would be a love “more than these”.

None of these Jonah-dove-wannabe are to be found in the Greek Textus Receptus. A single manuscript, the fifth-century Codex Alexandrinus (A or 02), reads σιμων ιωνα (Simon [son of] Jonah). This manuscript is hard to classify, containing Byzantine and Alexandrian textual variations, and it is not impossible that this reading connects somehow with the Syriac reading. I believe this text was published as a separate letter to the seven congregations of Asia overseen by John the Presbyter to counter the rumor then circulating that the Beloved Disciple was not going to die, and that it was thus written in Greek for communities of Diaspora Jews and gentiles that would have had more facility with Greek than Aramaic or Hebrew. Still, the complex subtlety of Jesus’s naming of Simon here, which is very Johannine in its style, and its persistence in the Aramaic (the Codex Syriac Sinaiticus, the Peshitta, and the Crawford) suggests it is an old reading that was widespread in that language, which in turn raises the possibility that this letter was originally composed in Aramaic, and later put into Greek.

To us, the parallels are obvious between this scene and both the Immerser’s triple affirmation of Jesus and the Rock’s triple denial of him because we have always known this letter as the Textus Receptus presents it to us, at the end of the gospel. But the Presbyter did not necessarily mean for them to come prominently to his first readers’ minds because, of course, at the time John wrote this letter he was not yet even seriously contemplating writing the gospel – it would take the council in Ephesus to persuade him to compose it. Yes, he probably had told his disciples about the triple affirmation and triple denial, but these would not likely come to their minds in reading or hearing this letter unless he had added something to make the analogies plain; John is always an author of considerable precision.

Therefore, what he probably intended should first strike the minds of the seven congregations of Asia as this letter was read aloud to them is the threeness of this charge to Simon and that it is another failure on the latter’s part. Threeness has been associated with deity since the most ancient times in the West, long before the Christians invented the Trinity as part of their dogma. To ask this question of Simon, with his formal name and three times, therefore, is equivalent to asking him under oath in the courtroom of God: it implies Jesus is concerned that Simon might not be entirely truthful unless he uses these means (the formal name, the threeness) to compel him to truth.

It is usually stated by scholars, and it is true to a degree, that αγαπη means unconditional love, a love given without price, such as the love of spouse or children; and φιλια as the love between equals, as defined by Aristotle a love dispassionate and virtuous, and yet also often used in referring to close relatives or spouses. However we must remember that αγαπη is not found in classical texts dating from before it appears in early proto-Christian writings, especially those of the Presbyter. In fact it is not at all unlikely that John made up this word: indeed, several other words appear for the first time in his œuvre. If he did invent it, he did so on a firm foundation; the verb ἀγαπάω (agapaō) is well attested in the classical literature, meaning “to love” with overtones of desire for, content with, and pleasure in the beloved. In his writings John uses the word αγαπη to refer to the love of God for Jesus and/or his for God, Jesus’s love for his followers and/or theirs for him, theirs for God and/or God’s for them, or Jesus’s love for Mary, the Beloved Disciple. This is the love that establishes to the oneness that Jesus prayed would be evidenced among his followers (John 17:21), the oneness that he demonstrated by becoming wholly one with Mary at the resurrection. In The Gospel of John (pages 525-27) I argue that Jesus may have been and John certainly was exposed to Buddhism; John’s articulation of Jesus’s philosophy is undeniably close to that of Buddhism, and it is sad that Christianity ignored this closeness and for two millennia, until Thomas Merton, was antipathetic toward Buddhism and all other faiths despite the essential unity of truth and love at the core of every faith. That said, the concept here is close to one central to Buddhism of करुणा (karuṇā), the love/mercy/compassion that flows naturally when one recognizes one’s oneness with all beings. More than oneness, it really means giving up the idea of myself in favor of the great self, the letting-go of आत्मन् (atman, the individual soul) so it is one with ब्रह्मन् (Brahman, the universal soul), the relinquishment of the delusory “little I” in favor of the reality of “the great I AM”, as Coleridge translates אֶהְיֶה אֲשֶׁר אֶהְיֶה, the phrase that was shortened to יהוה, YHWH (see The Gospel of John, pages 171-74). Note that I try to reproduce the subtleties of αγαπη and φιλια in English with, respectively, “love” and “have affection for”.

Thus, by twice asking αγαπας με (agapas me), “Do you love me?” Jesus is essentially asking Simon the Rock if he is willing to be one with Jesus. But every time Jesus asks about αγαπη, Simon replies “Yes”, but in terms of φιλια, not a sacred love of oneness but a secular love of equality. And in response to Simon affirming the love of equality, Jesus commands him to humility: “Feed my sheep.”

The traditional explanation of these verses is that Jesus by this means forgives Simon for denying him thrice. Yet since I find this text to have been written before composition of the gospel was even seriously contemplated, I think that while the Presbyter may have had the connection in mind it was not what he wanted to primarily impart to his first readers/hearers.

A careful analysis of the text reveals the nature of this tripartite exchange to be in effect a negotiation, such as is common in barter economies between buyer and seller. And it is not only a failure to negotiate to mutually acceptable terms; it also records Simon’s failure to measure up to Jesus’s expectations. The question Jesus asks changes subtly each time, and Simon’s reply does not change: Simon is holding fast to his “price” and refusing to barter. Jesus twice asks Simon: “Do you love me more than these?”, a question in which the word for “love” is αγαπη (agapē). The third time Jesus asks, he switches to the word φιλια (philia), “have affection for”, which is the word with which Simon has been answering all along.

We begin by considering what Jesus means by “more than these”. The text does not say what he means by the pronoun, and so we must assume that the always careful Presbyter means something obvious to the reader. To find the obvious, we must remember the context: men fishing by night, frustrated that they have found nothing, and then Jesus guides them to a haul so remarkable that they counted the fish. Peter, not wanting to lose this huge and valuable catch, singlehandedly drags the net to safety closer to shore. So the answer is that “these” means the fish, and by extension Simon’s livelihood, and in fact his wealth. The word τούτων (toutōn) usually means “these” as indicating something visibly present before the speaker and hearer. If he is speaking of fish, Jesus is certainly pointing to the one hundred and fifty-three of them in the net. (Note that the Syriac Sinaiticus version lacks this phrase “more than these”; it does appear in the somewhat later Peshitta.)

There are abundant hints in the New Testament that his business was doing quite well. Galilee’s fishing and farming economy was foundering at the time under low wholesale market rates and heavy Roman taxation, forcing many local residents to sell out to wealthy magnates in Jerusalem and elsewhere, becoming employees of what once had been their own businesses, tenants on what had once been their own land. However the gospels portray Simon the Rock’s fishing business as highly successful, employing several men, which suggests he had some special arrangement with the Roman authorities – say, to provide fish to the military cohort – and probably a special break on the taxes. Some early writers, most notably Nonnus of Panopolis (late fourth or early fifth century), speculate that what Mary mentioned to the gatekeeper about in John 18:16, in order to get him admitted into the precincts of the consul, Pontius Pilate, was that Simon was an authorized supplier of fish to the Roman military and governmental presence in Jerusalem. It is also possible that this deal ensuring success at the expense of his fellow Galileans, this deal with the monster who sentenced Christ (as Paul calls him) to death, is the shame in Simon’s past to which Paul alludes in Galatians 2:6; Paul goes on to accuse Simon of indulging in a lavish gentile lifestyle (Galatians 2:11-14). The same in John’s past alluded to in Galatians 2:6 would be that he was a one of the highest priests in the Temple, and so was associated with those who arranged Jesus’s arrest. Paul is trying to make Simon and John guilty by association of the death of Jesus.

Thus, Jesus opens his barter negotiation with Simon the rich businessman by asking if he loves him more than he loves the fish that make him so wealthy. In other words, he is asking which of these Simon values higher, and if he is ready to give up his dedication to making money to follow Jesus. Clearly, by his replies (in which he sticks with φιλια, the lower form of love), Simon is not ready to do so. And, though Paul never heard about this conversation, it shows that he had named a serious fault on Simon’s part in Galatians 2.

Next we turn to a consideration of the shift in terminology. The first two times Jesus asks if Simon loves him he uses the word αγαπη (agapē), and Simon answers with the word φιλια (philia). The third time Jesus switches to φιλια, as in a bargaining situation, and Simon responds with the same. In other words, Jesus twice asks Simon to “exchange” αγαπη with him, Jesus’s αγαπη for Simon’s αγαπη, with the result of this “exchange” being their oneness. But in return for the αγαπη of Jesus, “goods” of higher quality, Simon replies that he is only willing to provide “goods” of still fine but lesser quality, φιλια. To this, every time, Jesus says in effect, “If you are going to give lesser quality φιλια in exchange for my highest quality αγαπη, then you need to give me something else to make up for the imbalance in the exchange – you need to “feed my sheep.” Therefore, Jesus is demanding two things: αγαπη and “feed my sheep”. Then, in the third question, Jesus asks for φιλια, lowering his expectations in one of his two demands to the same as Simon’s in order to make the deal. If Jesus moves toward the middle on one thing, then in a typical barter situation Simon would move toward the middle on the other thing, and agree to the “feed my sheep” clause. But the text tells us that Simon is ελυπηθη (elypēthē) that Jesus is still demanding a hard bargain: he is not “grieved”, as this is usually translated, but “vexed”; especially when Jesus says he still requires the added value of “feed my sheep.” It probably means Simon uttered a loud sigh of frustration to say he was giving up the negotiation. Their barter arrangement at this point falls apart and is not consummated.

Note also that Jesus commands Simon first “Feed my lambs” (αρνια, arnia), then “Shepherd my sheep”, then “Feed my sheep” (προβατα, probata). This shift seems rather clearly to be mere stylistic variations until we look at the Aramaic versions – these have Jesus tell Simon to “feed/tend/graze” first ܐܡܪܝ (emrāy, “lambs”), then ܢܩܘܬܝ (neqyāta, “ewes”), and last ܥܪܒܝ (ˁerbā, “sheep”): the young, the adult females, and the adult males. The slightly later Peshitta reverses the order of the second and third, but the point is the same. Especially interesting is that the verb ܐܪܥܝ (rˁy) can mean “feed/tend/graze” or “become reconciled”. The first word for sheep, ܐܡܪܝ (imarā), is very similar to Mary’s name, ܡܪܝܡ (Maryam), and the specific mention of ewes also provides a hint. Les Petites Heures de Jean de Berry, a late 1300s “book of hours” illuminated manuscript, includes two very similar depictions of this immersion scene, however the dove descending from overhead is replaced in the other by a lamb putting its forepaws on John’s arm, which may recall what John 1:32 suggests, that Mary came down to Jesus at his immersion. The picture given in several early texts of a less than harmonious relationship between Simon and Mary (cf. The Gospel of John, page 188) that apparently eventually was healed (I Peter 5:13). Thus Jesus may be demanding Simon, at least in part, to reconcile himself to Mary, to take care of not only her sister Martha, Simon’s wife, but Mary too.

This subtext may also explain why, instantly after this conversation, Simon pointedly asks Jesus about Mary (21:20-21). She is in an agapē relationship with Jesus, the kind he is demanding of Simon, and Simon is asking, “Well, what kind of further ‘feed my sheep’ demand did you impose on her when you bartered with her about love?” And Jesus’s answer clearly says (21:22), “What I negotiated with her is none of your business.”

At the same time, Jesus is saying, “Take care of all my followers: male, female, and children.” In response to this, Simon may have thought to himself, “Well, feeding the sheep is what I do for a living!”, since his business was to catch fish and sell them wholesale for human consumption. Then it might slowly have dawned on him (the gospel often has dawning comprehension come at the dawn of the day) that this command had a metaphorical meaning; one does not get the impression from this gospel that Simon readily comprehended such subtleties.

Who, then, specifically were the sheep Jesus had in mind is open to question. They could be the Jewish and Samaritan residents of Palestine. They could be the Diaspora. They could even be (as Acts 15:7 suggests) the gentiles.

In the first question Jesus asks Simon if he loves him “more than these” – and it is unclear if by “these” Jesus means the things of this world, or the fish for which he fishes as his work, or the other disciples. If the other disciples, then there is irony that this tripartite conversation about love is followed by a conversation about the disciple whom Jesus has (always) loved.

This exchange may at first glance appear unrelated to what follows, in verses 18-19. Moreover, one may wonder why John provides the tripartite love-bargain and the talk about Simon’s old age when the sole stated purpose of this letter is to counter the rumor of Mary’s immortality by clarifying exactly what Jesus said on that matter on the day in question.

The answer to this is that this tripartite dialogue and the old age comments have everything to do with the final question and answer. This is affirmed by Jesus saying in 21:19, as a closure to the conversation, “Follow me.” When we are young, Jesus says, we wear what we want and go where we wish; when we are old, we wear what others put on us and go where they wish. But, if Simon were to “Follow me”, to go where Jesus wishes, he will enter the Æon and be truly free. Jesus wants Simon to affirm αγαπη, oneness-in-love with God and Jesus and all life, as Mary has accepted it. But Simon will only accept φιλια, he will not let go of his selfish little sense of personal identity, he will not relinquish his wealth, he will not sacrifice himself as Jesus did on the cross, and as Mary did at the resurrection (in the Syriac Aramaic version of John 20:1-16 the words ܩܪܒ [qrb] and ܣܠܩ [klm], referring to Mary, carry the sense of lifting oneself up in sacrifice).

And so, if Simon insists on keeping his possessions of wealth and especially the possession of self, Jesus requires him to relinquish at least the physical possessions so precious to him, and use them to “Feed my sheep.” And so, too, Jesus warns Simon (21:18) that the possession of self is ephemeral, that Simon will grow old and will be pushed and pulled around where he does not want to go, and eventually will die. And so again Jesus says to him (21:19b), as he did at the beginning to Simon and the first disciples (John 1:43) “Follow me!” But here Jesus means not simply that Simon should follow Jesus as rabbi through Galilee and Judæa, but that he should follow Jesus’s example and let go of self, enter the Æon, and become one with God, with Jesus, and with all life.

The verb Jesus uses is ακολουθεω (akoloutheō). It means much more than “to follow”. In Aristophanes and Plutarch it can mean “to follow as a disciple”. Sometimes it is used in reference to the obedience of a servant. It can carry the sense of “conform oneself to” or “adhere to” the example set by someone else, which I think is the case here. It comes from κελευθος (keleuthos), which means “road” or “path”, and metaphorically, in Æschylus and Euripides for example, a way of life. The latter word is a synonym of οδος (hodos) in John 14:6. Jesus is still holding out the ideal of αγαπη and urging Simon, if not now, some day to accept this oneness.

The verb Jesus uses is ακολουθεω (akoloutheō). It means much more than “to follow”. In Aristophanes and Plutarch it can mean “to follow as a disciple”. Sometimes it is used in reference to the obedience of a servant. It can carry the sense of “conform oneself to” or “adhere to” the example set by someone else, which I think is the case here. It comes from κελευθος (keleuthos), which means “road” or “path”, and metaphorically, in Æschylus and Euripides for example, a way of life. The latter word is a synonym of οδος (hodos) in John 14:6. Jesus is still holding out the ideal of αγαπη and urging Simon, if not now, some day to accept this oneness.

Given the statement in verse 19a, commentators are forever contorting themselves to explain how Jesus’s statement, clearly about old age, is actually about Simon the Rock (Peter) being tied to a cross and thus forced to go where he doesn’t want to go – because, according to various early sources, Simon was executed by Rome at a relatively early age; he did not live to be an old man. Yet verse 18 is not to be taken as a prophecy of Simon’s death.It clearly says “when you grow old”, and Simon was not old when according to Christian tradition he was executed. And it clearly says “tie your cincture”, the rope belt used to secure one’s outer tunic. Jesus is simply assuming Simon will someday be old, just as anyone would in speaking to another person about his or her future. Jesus is neither foreseeing nor prophesying about Simon’s fate. It was later dogma of the Christian religion that Jesus is God incarnate and thus during his lifetime knew exactly what was going to take place in the future; for the Presbyter, Jesus is a very wise human being, but still a human being, with no more ability to see the future than you or I. Rather, Jesus was speaking in general terms of the future of all human beings: that when we are old and weak we are taken about against our will by the young. The statement in verse 19a, therefore, as an obvious interpolation by the redactor, is removed from the text. It reads as follows:

 

τουτο δε ειπεν σημαινων ποιω θανατω δοξασει τον θεον

 

This, indeed, he said to signal by what death he was to glorify God.

 

Absent the statement in 19a, what is Jesus saying? He is saying care for “my lambs” because some day in the future they will care for you (“you” referring to Simon, but also to everyone), so take good care of them now so they will take good care of you in your final years. And, to take good care of them now, “Follow me”: follow the example and teaching of Jesus and love them even as he loved you.

 

 

The Tears of Myrrh, the Roman Son of God

This is the second of two blogs about the real meaning of the conversation between Jesus and Pontius Pilate. Both come from my commentaries to the Gospel of John, appended to my restoration of its original text. The gospel as generally known today, suffered a hatchet job by early Christian leaders to conform it to their dogma that turned Jesus into a Roman-style godling. The forthcoming book will include a fresh translation of the gospel from the original Greek. This is a work in progress; feedback is most welcome, and people are encouraged to get the book when it comes available, by the end of this year.

18:38-40 – Pilate, after this first conversation with Jesus, does not wish to execute him. As noted elsewhere in this book he has never had any problem ruthlessly using brutal force to maintain a fierce control over this volatile Roman province – but here is someone different, a man who is clearly no threat, a man in whom Pilate is sure he could find a great deal of wisdom: another Socrates, even, combined with a worker of miracles like those travellers bring back to the Empire from the Asian lands.

And then Pilate comes up with what to him is the perfect solution: he has been boxed by the Sanhedrin, who have with loud meekness proclaimed that only he, and not they, can execute convicts. But he can offer to release this Jesus to them, and, if they refuse his release, they have not technically sentenced him to death, but in point of fact they have, and Pilate is not to blame. In this manner the populace won’t be stirred up against Rome, the Sanhedrin is mollified, and the only unfortunate thing is that this Jesus must die.

So Pilate offers to the crowd a choice between the father and the stepson, both of whom have called themselves Barabbas, Son of the Father, both of whom have stirred up a great deal of potential among the people of Judæa – the father by his many miracles, the most dramatic of which was raising this handsome young man his son from the dead. As a result, the crowds have so idolized them both it would be hard to say which they prefer.

So Pilate puts it to the to the Sanhedrin leaders – and that may be his error, for these religious leaders are not the crowd, and, though they want Lazarus out of the way too (12:10-11), they are even more determined to see Jesus dead (11:50-53).

Lazarus’s legal state is unstated in the text (because of the Beloved Disciple’s usual reticence to say more than is absolutely necessary about himself) but still reasonably clear. The Sanhedrin wants him dead, and he has surely been avoiding arrest by the Temple police through the simple expedient of avoiding the Temple, since the police had little authority outside the Temple complex. Thus, Lazarus was able to attend the Last Supper. But, when the Temple police perhaps unexpectedly accompanied the Roman soldiers to arrest Jesus in the garden, Lazarus may have been apprehended as well, or at least (in modern parlance) “brought along for questioning”. If not in the garden, then certainly Lazarus was detained in the precincts of Annas and Caiaphas. Either way, it may be that Lazarus stayed with Jesus not through courage but because he was in custody. The text tells us that he was known by the high priest (probably Annas, possibly Caiaphas or both), which would have been because his maternal family was very highly regarded; note how they came out to console Mary after Lazarus’s death (11:31,45); because of this and his youth, he would have been rather more gently than Jesus, and probably with some kindliness, hence his ability to get Rocky Simon let through the gate (18:16). He was probably sent in by the high priests and Pharisees at the same time as Jesus so both could be tried before Pilate; they probably wanted to persuade Pilate to give both of them a sentence of death. Without this explanation there is no logical explanation how Pilate would allow this young man to witness these closed-door proceedings with Jesus. Lazarus was being tried as well, but a good thing for our sake is that he was there to witness and later remember vividly in some detail (from 18:29 to 19:16) the entire proceedings within the prætorium. By contrast, the only other eyewitness gospel, Mark, recounts the private interview in just four verses (Mark 15:2-5), a summary that Lazarus probably gave to him later on.

Lazarus must have had all along the nickname Barabbas. It means “Son of the Father”, and certainly refers to his being born to a Samaritan Temple priestess: if she got pregnant in the course of her service in the Temple, the child would be considered to be sired by God, that is, the Father. The name in Aramaic is actually “Baraba” (באראבא with Hebrew letters and ܒ݂ܰܐܪ‌ܐܰܒ݁ܰܐ in Syriac; though the alpha in the first syllable is superfluous it brings out the sacred meaning), and it is rich in the sacred significance discussed at length in the commentary to 14:2. The comment that Barabbas was an insurrectionist makes no sense at all in comparison to what the gospel tells us: Barabbas, Lazarus, was sentenced to death for the reason stated in 12:10-11. This must be an interpolation of the redactor to “explain” this otherwise unmentioned Barabbas. Very likely the redactor had taken out a sentence that gave a correct explanation of who Barabbas was that ran afoul of the later Christian dogma.

19:1-4 – It might seem to the reader that the order to flog Jesus doesn’t fit with the context, in which Pilate repeatedly declares him innocent and expresses an understanding and even intellectual kinship with him. A careful reading of the text reveals that Pilate is hoping rather that the pain might persuade Jesus to “see reason” and retreat from his desire to be executed, or that a flogging might either satisfy these Jewish leaders calling for his execution. Indeed, Pilate shows Jesus to these Sanhedrin leaders and says, “Look at the man!”, in other words, “See him tortured; he’s only a man; he bleeds; surely this is sufficient to satisfy you!”

19:2 – Paul was himself subjected to this kind of institutionalized torture of suspects (cf. e.g. II Corinthians 11:23-25), so it appears to have been rather common. The unusual aspect here is the soldiers mockingly acclaiming Jesus as a king.

The “crown of thorns” was likely made from a branch or two of myrrh (a small tree whose bitter resin is used in embalming, perfumery, and incense). There would have been plenty of it available in Jerusalem at this time just before Passover; myrrh was a component in ketoret, the consecrated incense used in the First and Second Temples at Jerusalem, according to the Tanakh and Talmud.

This crown of myrrh is ironic, considering myrrh would soon be used to embalm Jesus (19:39 and probably in the hands of Mary, 20:1). The greater irony is that myrrh is collected by wounding the tree until it bleeds, drop by drop, its sap, its lifeblood, as Jesus is here and on the cross wounded to the point of bleeding. What is more, the word מֹר, mor (“myrrh”), is related to מַר, mar (“drop”, referring to the resin), as in a teardrop, and this is the root of the name מרה, Mara ( “bitter”), the name that Naomi (which means “sweet” or “pleasant”) gave herself when she was weeping bitter tears for the death of her sons and her husband (Ruth 1:13) – and it is the name of Mary, who in this gospel weeps bitter tears for the death of her son (11:31,33) and her husband (20:11).

19:6 – Note that “the Pharisees” have disappeared from the narrative. All these shouted demands to execute Jesus are coming only from “the chief priests and the officers”, with the latter comprising both Temple police and Roman soldiers, since the Greek word υπηρεται is used here, which heretofore has designated both groups. The last time the Pharisees are mentioned is at 18:3, and that is literally the last time; the Pharisees are never mentioned again for the remainder of the gospel. In 18:3 we are informed of their tacit support for Jesus’s arrest. But after that he is taken before the former and current high priests, Annas and Joseph ben Caiaphas; the priestly forces evidently have taken charge of Jesus’s prosecution, and the Pharisees have evidently backed away from this increasingly distasteful procedure. Jesus, it must be recalled, had strong connections to the Pharisees: he has friends (e.g., Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea) and in-laws (e.g., Simon the Leper) among them, and his education and general philosophy suggest that he was virtually a member of their group himself. Where certainly the gospel portrays occasional Pharisaical antagonism toward Jesus (e.g., 7:32,47-48; 8:13; 9:16), and the Synoptic gospels suggest all but constant Pharisaical antipathy toward Jesus, some of this may have been no more than their love of a good intellectual debate on religious matters (which we see in the Talmud, which at times reads like one of Plato’s dialogues). The priestly class, on the other hand, certainly saw Jesus as more of a direct threat: he has roundly criticized them (e.g., 7:18; 10:12-13) and spoken about the destruction of their precious Temple (2:19), and they fear that his strong statements might yet lead to the Roman military tearing down the Temple (and all of Jerusalem, as eventually happened in 70 C.E.).

19:6-8 – To the Temple priests’ shouted demand that Pilate crucify Jesus Pilate replies by saying they should crucify him themselves, for he finds Jesus innocent of any charge. Pilate, of course, errs in this statement; by the Roman law that he represents these Temple authorities do not have the power to exert capital punishment, neither by their own traditional method, stoning, nor by the Roman method, crucifixion.

The Temple authorities, for their part, are also wrong about their law; there is no law in the Torah forbidding Jews from claiming to be children of God. Scholars point to Leviticus 24:16, which forbids blasphemy. But, as noted in the commentary to John 10:33, the accusation of blasphemy against Jesus and the demand that he be executed for it is a canard. The Talmud clearly declares that: “If a man says to you, ‘I am God,’ he is [merely] a liar; if [he says ‘I am] the son of man,’ people will ultimately [just] laugh at him.” (Tr. Yer. Taan. 65b). And Jesus himself cites Psalm 82:6 at John 10:34, a verse that speaks of the Jewish people as the children of God. (Another of several is found at Psalm 2:6-7.) Caiaphas took a far more reasonable position by saying that if Jesus was indeed Messiah then his death was customary; see the essay on page ____.

But Pilate, ignorant of all but the basic facts about Judaism, does not know this is a canard, and even less knows the idea of a kingly sacrifice raised by Caiaphas. So, faced with these unknowns-to-him, and constantly worried about insurrection, he is filled with dread (φοβέομαι, often mistranslated as “fear”).

This statement of the priests may, however, be more than a canard. These high priests knew the Torah and would be unlikely to cite it incorrectly. However, several times in this episode they are clearly using psychological ploys to goad or entrap Pilate such that he has no choice but to execute Jesus. This could well be another example: it may not be against the Torah to call oneself the son of God, but from a Roman perspective it was a treasonous and heretical statement to make: only the emperor had the right to call himself Divi Filius (“Son of God”). If this is their meaning, then when they say “we have a law” they are identifying themselves as good subjects of Rome and furthermore are saying that Rome has a law to this effect. In verse 11 these priests imply that they are loyal to the emperor and in verse 15 they say “We have no king if not Cæsar!” If here they are referring to Roman, not Jewish, law, then all three of their statements to Pilate are to say he had better not appear less Roman than they.

And this too, the threat that it might get back to Rome that Pilate wasn’t fully loyal to his emperor the Son of God, once again would be calculated to fill him with dread (φοβέομαι).

19:9-11 – Jesus remains silent to the question “Where are you from?”. The text does not say why; it could be the “suffering servant” motif (Isaiah 53:7), but that is relatively unlikely since Jesus otherwise does not hesitate to rely to Pilate’s interrogations. It may be that this was simply the wrong question to ask, an irrelevant question, that Pilate wasn’t in effect “following the script”. And, ultimately, Jesus does answer it in his reference to ανωθεν (“from above”) in verse 11, the same word that appears in the Prologue at 3:31, and in the conversation with Nicodemus at 3:3,7; hence, this forms an inclusio.

Jesus says Pilate would have no power unless it came “from above”, a clear double entendre; Pilate probably first thinks Jesus is referring to the emperor, in behalf of whom he speaks, and then realizes that Jesus is really alluding to God. Both meanings serve to undergird Jesus’s next words of relative exoneration for Pilate: as the representative of the Roman emperor Pilate is constrained to execute Jesus, and he has been ultimately given that power to execute by God. Given the nature of this point, Jesus is also here again urging Pilate to order his execution.

In this verse, as in 14:30, Jesus (or the amanuensis through Jesus’s mouth) is paraphrasing Herakleitos (Logion 114 in Diels-Kranz): τρέφονται γὰρ πάντες οἱ ἀνθρώπειοι νόμοι ὑπὸ ἑνὸς τοῦ θείου· κρατέει γὰρ τοσοῦτον ὁκόσον ἐθέλει καὶ ἐξαρκέει πᾶσι καὶ περιγίνεται (“For all human laws are nourished by the one divine law, which holds sway as far as it wishes, and suffices for all, even to spare”).