John 3
MorJohn 3:1-21
The Gospel According to John John 2:13-25 - John 3:1-21.
After the first sign at Cana, as John records, Jesus tarried a few days in Capernaum; and then He took His journey to Jerusalem, because the Passover feast was at hand. This was His first recorded visit to Jerusalem, as Messiah. I have no doubt He had been there before in the course of His life. We have the story of a visit when He was a Boy; and we have every reason to believe He had gone up year after year. But now, coming as Messiah, it was certainly within the Divine order that He made His way to the Temple, which was at the centre of the national life. There He wrought a sign, which is the second in John’s selection.
It was wrought in the Temple, and it was of the Temple, distinctly a sign in the realm of worship. The first sign at Cana was in the realm of joy at a marriage feast, a revelation of creative power. Now He passed to the centre of the national life in the city, and to the centre of the life of the city in the Temple; and there He wrought this second sign in the realm of worship.
It was startlingly significant, and produced far-reaching results. It began the action unquestionably, of definite hostility towards Him, which never found its culmination, until they put Him on His bitter Cross. The action is most significant as we consider what He said in connection with it; something that was not understood at the moment, which nevertheless does interpret to us His own mind, His own heart, His own outlook, His own understanding, His own purpose. In considering the matter, we will follow two lines; first, the sign in itself; and then, those immediate results which John has recorded for us. We are first arrested by what John tells us Jesus found in the Temple. The word translated Temple here is hieron, not the word naos, used a little later on, of which more anon. It refers not to the sanctuary, but the outer courts, more or less open and available to all, and especially to the Gentile courts. What did He find in the Temple? “Those that sold oxen and sheep and doves, and the changers of money sitting.” To realize what that means, we must remember the Temple, and what it really signified in the Divine economy; what it was intended to be in the history of the nation, and through the nation, in the interest of the world. Jesus came, the Messiah, into the Temple; and He found the Gentile courts with cattle in them, and the changers of money trafficking in them. These men were there to change Roman coins into Jewish coins, because no coin with the effigy of the emperor could be offered within those Temple courts for any purpose.
That would have been a desecration. So, for the convenience of the worshippers, there were men there prepared, at a percentage, to change the money. They also were ready to change large coins for smaller ones. This thing, by the way, still goes on. I have occasionally been asked if I could provide some small change before someone was going to service! These men were there to make religion easy!
There was no need to trouble to rear one’s own lamb, or bring one’s own pair of pigeons. It could all be done for you. Everything was conveniently arranged for, in the Temple courts. That is what He found. Religion made easy, and so devitalized.
Now with equal brevity, let us remind ourselves of what He did. He first plaited a scourge of cords; very likely picking up cords that were lying about, which had been bound round the oxen. He plaited them into the form of a whip of action; and then He advanced upon that whole crowd, and drove them out. There is an anaemic form of thinking that is eager to say He did not smite. I do not know that He did; but we do not know He did not. In any case I make my protest against that weak idea of Jesus that imagines there was no lightning flashing from His eyes, no wrath manifested upon His face, and no anger in His heart.
That is an anaemic Christ Who does nothing for the world. The very symbol at any rate suggested “the wrath of the Lamb.” We must not cancel that expression. When we do, we cancel Christianity as a living force. He plaited that cord, and He drove them out, and with splendid iconoclasm turned the money tables over, and scattered the coins across the Temple floor, in every direction.
Why was He doing all this? Listen to Him, “Take these things hence; make not My Father’s house a house of traffic.” He saw the desecration of the House of His Father, “My Father’s house.” The last thing He called this Temple much later on was, “Your house,”-“Your house is left unto you desolate.” He saw the courts, the places where men and women drew nigh to God, desecrated; and He wrought the sign; and the disciples remembered that it was written, “The zeal”-do not soften that,-the burning, consuming passion “of Thy house shall eat Me up.”
His second sign, in John’s selection, was thus a sign in the realm of worship; and a sign characterized, by the revelation of an august and an awful majesty, acting for the restoration of a desecrated House to its true function. I emphasize once more the fact that, as we know from other writings, those money changers carried on their work, and the sellers of oxen, sheep, and doves their work, not in Jewish courts, but in the courts that were supposed to be consecrated or set apart for Gentiles. The supreme iniquity to the heart of Jesus was that the Hebrew people were failing to function as God intended. His intention was always that they should bless all the nations; but they had now come to that position when they thought only of themselves, and the ease and comfort of their own worship. Gentiles! What did Gentiles matter?
Certainly use their courts, and desecrate them. Christ thus came, and swept out the whole unholy traffic, the zeal of the House of God consuming Him. Such was the sign.
Now immediately following the sign, we have John’s record of the results. There are three things to observe. First, in verses eighteen to twenty-two the challenge that was given to Him, and His answer to it. Then a little paragraph at the close of the chapter, showing in result, belief in Him, and His unbelief in those who did believe in Him. And finally, the story of Nicodemus, in the first twenty-one verses of chapter three.
First then the challenge that they brought to Him after He had wrought the sign. The exact words are found in verse eighteen-“The Jews therefore answered and said unto Him.” That is, they answered His action. They saw in His action a challenge. They “answered.” It is quite significant. The rulers recognized the startling challenge in what He had done in cleansing the Temple courts. As He stood in lonely dignity, coins scattered, animals dispersed in every direction, and with the animals those who owned them gone, they gathered about Him and they “answered” Him.
It was an answer to what He had done. “What sign showest Thou unto us, seeing that Thou doest these things?” They asked Him for a sign, to authenticate a sign. They had just received a remarkable sign. At any rate there was one man in the crowd had seen it, I feel sure; and that one man was Nicodemus. Presently we hear him say, “No man can do these signs that Thou doest, except God be with Him.” But they said, What sign do You give, which authenticates the sign You have given?
Thus we come to that which is the most significant thing in all the story. Jesus answered them and said, “Destroy this sanctuary.” Here I use the marginal reading, “sanctuary,” to draw a distinction between hieron, the word used for the Temple courts that were cleansed; and naos, the sacred enclosure itself, which was the word our Lord used now, " Destroy this sanctuary, and in three days I will raise it up." How many of us would have understood Him, had we heard Him utter those words? Not one of us. Nobody did understand. The rulers did not. They laughed at Him. “They said, Forty and six years has this temple been building.” The Temple was not finished even then; nor for another ten years after that.
They practically pointed, Look at it; for forty-six years this building has been going on; and one can hear the ribaldry of their mockery, “and wilt Thou raise it up in three days?” It was very natural. We might have said the same sort of thing. John is magnificently honest. He tells us that it was not until after His resurrection that they remembered He had said that, and so understood. We hear the words nineteen hundred years after, and we listen to them, not as the rulers understood them, not as the disciples failed to understand them, but as He meant them. What is Thy sign? said these rulers; Thou Who comest up to this Temple, and sweepest out the vested interests that are supposed to be in the interest of religion? Thou overturnest everything. Thou art an Iconoclast. What is the sign of Thy authority?
Now very reverently, hear me, if I change the wording, not to improve it, but interpret it. In effect He said; The sign of My authority will be My Cross and resurrection. The ultimate proof and demonstration of the authority of all I am doing to-day will be discovered in the day when you unloose this tabernacle; destroy it in that sense, dissolve it; and I will raise the unloosened tabernacle in three days.
No, it was not intended that they should understand it then; but right here, in the beginning, in the first sign in the House of God, I discover the thought of His heart, and the sense of His mind, and the centre of His authority. What was it? His Cross and His resurrection.
Let me turn aside for a moment, and make an excursus in relation. Later on in His ministry, another evangelist records that He said; “An evil and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign; and there shall no sign be given to it but the sign of Jonah the prophet; for as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the sea-monster; so shall the Son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.” That is the same thing, but in other language. He gave many signs. Yes, but He said, No sign will carry, no sign will be demonstration, no sign will produce conviction. An evil and adulterous generation seeketh a sign, and no sign shall be given it; but there will be a sign; the sign of death, and of resurrection. In those words then we find an unveiling of His own heart, and His own thinking at that moment. Next, John tells that when He was there in Jerusalem at the Passover, during the feast, “many believed on His name, beholding His signs which He did.” He did other signs, which are not recorded. John has given the central one. He now declares that many believed, not on Him, but “on His name,” that is, accepted His Messianic claim, “beholding His signs which He did.” Then this startling thing follows. “But Jesus did not trust Himself unto them.” The same verb is employed in both cases. I think something will be gained if we rendered it so. “Many believed in His name . . . but He did not believe in them.” Or, “Many trusted in His name, or on His name; . . . but He did not trust them.” Or to change it yet again, “Many committed themselves to His name; . . . but He did not commit Himself.”
Here we are face to face with something arresting. His signs produced a belief, but it was not a belief to which He could commit Himself. They committed themselves to Him in a certain way; but He could not commit Himself to them. Their belief was shallow. It was based on wonder. The things that were necessarily arresting, startling, spectacular, were all they wanted. Belief that is based upon the spectacular is always shallow and evanescent. If belief is nothing more than admiration for the spectacular, it will create in multitudes applause; but the Son of God cannot commit Himself to that kind of faith.
In that connection John illuminates His personality. He says, “He knew all men, and because He needed not that any one should bear witness concerning man; for He Himself knew what was in man.” He knew all men, generically; and He knew every man, individually. That is why He could not commit Himself. And yet in that heart there surged the infinite, the eternal compassion of God, and the desire to save. But He could not commit Himself to them. He needed something deeper on which to build.
Then we come to the story of Nicodemus. Notice how it begins; “Now there was a man of the Pharisees.” The word rendered “Now” may with equal accuracy be translated “But.” When I went to school they told me “But” was a disjunctive conjunction; which means that it indicates a separation of ideas, and a contrast. What then is the meaning of “Now there was a man of the Pharisees”? John was linking the Nicodemus story, with that which had immediately preceded it. Jesus could not trust Himself to some men, but there was a man of the Pharisees named Nicodemus,-and to summarize all the story,-to whom He did commit Himself, whom He could trust, in whom He did believe.
Here then is a man to whom Jesus could commit Himself. It has become almost an expository habit to abuse Nicodemus, and to say that he was a coward. It may be well to remember that he and Joseph of Arimathaea were so-called secret disciples; but when all the loud-shouting crowd ran away, those were the two who buried Him. Sometimes there is more courage in quietness, than in noise.
Then follows the matchless story of the converse between Jesus and Nicodemus. It was night, and Nicodemus came at night, because he was determined to have Jesus all to himself. He had something of grave importance to say to this Teacher. He did not see Him as more than that. But he did believe Him to be One officially sent from God. The signs he had seen had convinced him of that. He had come to the absolutely correct conclusion, that anyone who wrought those signs must be from God.
The conversation proceeded in three movements. In verses two and three we have the first movement, in which we see Nicodemus and Jesus face to face. Then the second movement is in verses four to eight, in which we see Nicodemus and Jesus mind to mind. The last movement is in verses nine to twenty-one, in which we see Nicodemus and Jesus heart to heart.
Face to face. “Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews, a Pharisee.” He addressed Jesus as “Rabbi.” The title was one of respect, but it was not the highest. Rab; Rabbi; Rabban. Such were the degrees. Rabbi was the middle title. But it was respectful. “Rabbi, we know that Thou art a Teacher come from God; for no man can do these signs that Thou doest, except God be with Him.” He was perfectly right. He had not asked for anything.
He had simply made a statement, and then stood quietly waiting. But unquestionably the statement was a suggestion. What was it? That he wanted the latest word from God. He was a ruler. Jesus presently said to him, “Art thou the teacher of Israel?” I believe at that moment Nicodemus was-to use the word perhaps in its higher and better sense-the most popular teacher in Jerusalem.
He knew the Torah; was familiar with the Nebiim; and was acquainted with the Kethubim, or Sacred Writings. He knew too that there had been no authentic voice until that of John had sounded, the herald; and now this Teacher, authenticated by signs, demonstrating that He was from God. So he came, waiting to hear this latest word from God.
Then, in the history of that man, that wonderful man, that fine man, that courageous man, there crashed across all human thinking, all its religions, all its philosophies, and its theologies, the revealing word. “Except a man be born from above, he cannot see the Kingdom of God.” Human intellect is entirely at fault. There must be a new birth, a new life principle, before the Kingdom of God can be seen, to say nothing of entering into it.
Thus they are seen face to face, the seeker standing in the presence of a Divine Teacher, wanting the last word; the one final and authoritative Teacher saying, What you need is not to graduate, but to backslide further back than babyhood; you need to be born anew. No psychology will ever effect conversion. Regeneration must affect psychology. “Except a man be born anothen, from above, he cannot see.
Now mark the second movement, mind to mind. Nicodemus said, How can this thing be? He was not contradicting Jesus. I believe that in a flash he saw what a marvellous thing it would be if that could be; what a glorious thing it would be if a man could begin all over again. But how could it be? Then he used the physical as an illustration, “Can a man enter a second time into his mother’s womb, and be born?” He was only illustrating, but it was a very powerful illustration.
Nicodemus meant to say, Born again! Here am I, and what I am is the result of what I was an hour ago, and yesterday, and all the days of the past. My personality is the result of processes. Can this body of mine be turned back into embryonic form in my mother’s womb? And if that cannot be, then how is the more difficult thing to be done, that of remaking my personality, spirit, mind, and body?
Then Jesus went on, very beautifully answering him in the realm of interpretation. Listen to Him. He said, “Except a man be born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter into the Kingdom of God.” Mark the continuity. You have been attending the ministry of one who baptized you in water, and told you Another would baptize you in the Spirit. Except you are born of all that the water baptism signified, repentance; and that which the Spirit baptism accomplishes, regeneration, you cannot enter into the Kingdom of God.
Then correcting the illustration He said, “That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.” That is to say, Nicodemus, your illustration won’t do; it only applies in the realm of the flesh, and it is impossible in the realm of the flesh; you cannot enter into your mother’s womb a second time and be born. That is the flesh. Do not confuse flesh with spirit. The spirit of a man can be completely regenerated; he can be born again. That which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not confuse the two things, said Jesus in effect.
And then He gave an illustration. You cannot understand the blowing of the wind, but you obey the law and gain its force; so with the Spirit. Do not postpone relationship with the possibility, Nicodemus, by intellectual struggle. Obey the law of the wind, and the wind obeys you. Obey the Law of the Spirit, and you will know the new birth.
Then Nicodemus came with his last question. I am sure this question had an entirely different significance. Nicodemus said, “How can these things be?” His first question meant, Can they be at all; the second question meant. What is the process?
Then with tender, gentle playfulness Jesus said. Are you the teacher in Israel, and don’t you know these things? If I told you earthly things, the things I have told you so far, and you don’t believe; how are you going to believe if I tell you heavenly things? But He went on, and did tell him of the heavenly.
His answer to the last “How” of Nicodemus is found in three movements. “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up; that whosoever believeth may in Him have eternal life.” That is how.
Let us go further. “God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son.” That is how.
And yet a little further, “God sent not the Son into the world to judge the world; but that the world should be saved through Him” He has sent the light. That is how.
How? said Nicodemus. Jesus said, Life through My death; love from the heart of God through His gift; light through My mission in the world. That is How. Because God so loved, He gave; and life comes through that gift; and now the light is shining.
John 3:22-36
The Gospel According to John John 3:22-36 John 3:22-36. In the orderly sequence of this book of selected signs in proof that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, this paragraph constitutes an interlude, both as to the course of our Lord’s ministry, and in the system of the book.
After the sign wrought in the Temple, and the things immediately following, including the night of converse with Nicodemus, Jesus left the city of Jerusalem, and went into the country of Judæa, and “there He tarried with” His disciples, “and baptized,” possibly for some considerable time.
The arresting thing is that during the period thus referred to, He was co-operating in John’s ministry, rather than more definitely carrying on His own. The evangelist is careful to record the fact that while Jesus was in the Judæa countryside with His disciples, baptizing, John was doing the same thing in another locality, not very far away. It is quite evident that he continued to do this until he was arrested and cast into prison. John practically reveals this when he says, “For John was not yet cast into prison.” That statement chronologically synchronizes with Matthew’s statement in the fourth chapter, and with Mark’s in the first, that it was after the imprisonment of John, that Jesus began His more definitely public propaganda.
The situation then is arresting in that it reveals John and Jesus carrying on, at the same time. John, the voice, the herald, had publicly identified the Messiah, in the remarkable words, “Behold, the Lamb of God, Which taketh away the sin of the world.” Moreover, on the very next day, after that identification, he had again pointed Jesus out to two of his disciples, as our Lord was seen passing along His way, evidently starting upon His public ministry; and at once, by a natural and beautiful sequence, those two who were with him, left John, and went after Jesus. He had identified Messiah. It would have seemed as though his work was completed, and yet we find him still carrying on that preparatory work. His disciples came to him presently with a question, which shows that Jesus was also doing that work. They said, “Rabbi, He that was with thee beyond Jordan, to Whom thou hast borne witness, behold, the Same baptizeth, and all men come to Him.”
We can easily see how a difficulty would arise in the minds of some, and perhaps those the more intelligent. They had listened to John during all his ministry, had enrolled themselves as his disciples; and then there came that moment when he had, in answer to a deputation, said he was not the Christ, he was not Elijah, he was not the prophet foretold by Moses; he was a voice. The day after that he had pointed out the One Whose coming he had announced. But he was going on, and going on evidently with the same work; still preaching as he had preached, and still receiving those who, conscious of their need of repentance, confessed their repentance and their sins; and practising still the rite of baptism. At the same time Jesus had moved into the country-side, and was doing exactly the same thing.
Then John tells us that “There arose therefore a questioning on the part of John’s disciples.” The word “therefore” is significant, showing that the facts we have been considering accounted for the questioning. The discussion was on the subject of purifying, between John’s disciples and-the Old Version reads-“the Jews.” The New Version with accuracy says, “a Jew.” That was the local situation; a discussion arose on the subject of purifying. We must understand that word as used at the time. It referred to the whole subject of moral and ceremonial purifying. That exactly described the realm of John’s ministry, and of the ministry which our Lord was now carrying on. The ministry of John was not concerned with matters political or economic, save indirectly.
It was a moral ministry. So was that of our Lord. The question of purifying, as to how there could be cleansing from moral defilement, and what part or place ritual took in the work, was the question under discussion.
I think we are warranted in going further, and saying that the discussion was the result of a comparison between John’s work and that of Jesus. I do not mean in the burden of teaching between John and Jesus, but in the matter of the success of each. When John’s disciples came to him, this is how they told the story. “Rabbi, He that was with thee beyond Jordan, to Whom thou hast borne witness, behold, the Same baptizeth, and all men come to Him.” There is no meaning in that except that it suggests some little feeling of resentment at the fact that Jesus, this new Teacher, He that was with John beyond Jordan, and to Whom John had witnessed, was apparently more successful than their master, “Behold, the Same baptizeth, and all men come to Him.”
Now all that is preliminary, and leads to the account of the answer which John gave to those men. From verse twenty-seven to thirty we have the record of that answer. There are differing opinions as to whether from verse thirty-one to the end of the chapter, John the herald is still speaking or whether he ends with the great words, “He must increase, but I must decrease”; and then John the evangelist adds his comment. I am personally quite convinced that John the evangelist is making his own comments from verse thirty-one to the end. What we have here then is this, the testimony of John the Baptist in answer to the enquiry raised by his disciples as the result of a discussion with a Jew. John the evangelist having thus recorded the testimony of the herald, proceeds to make certain comments of his own on the whole situation.
Thus we have in this section an interlude of witness; first from the lips of the herald, we have the witness to Jesus, that may be described as the great Recessional. The whole of the old economy had come to its climax. The last messenger of that economy, God-called, God-equipped, had done his work. Thus we find the final words of the old economy. Immediately following, the New Testament writer, this apostle of Jesus, this evangelist, makes his own comments; and so we have in the last part of the paragraph the great Processional. John, the herald, uttered the Recessional, concluding the old economy.
John, the apostle, uttered the Processional, marking the order of everything that was now beginning, that which was superseding the old, in order that it might pass away. The difference marks continuity; the great Recessional of John the herald; the illuminating Processional of John the evangelist; both in the presence of the Incarnate Word.
Let us then first consider the Recessional of the herald. He first uttered a great principle; “A man can receive nothing, except it have been given him from heaven.” To understand this we must get our background. The men who came to John knew him. They believed in his ministry. They had been influenced by it. They were his disciples.
They knew also about Jesus; and they found He was carrying on along exactly the same lines as John, proclaiming the same message, and performing the same rite through His disciples. They knew too that men were crowding to Him. So they went to John with a little feeling of jealousy for him. He answered first by the declaration of a principle which precluded the possibility of any idea of rivalry between himself and Jesus. “A man can receive nothing, except it have been given him from above.” This principle applied equally to John as herald, and to Jesus as Messiah. It was a principle to be recognized by these disciples of John, and by all men at all times.
Its teaching is perfectly simple. It calls for a recognition of the final, ultimate authority of heaven. A man receives nothing, whether it be the call to, and the power for, a preliminary ministry such as John’s; or whether it be the call to, and the power for, the Messianic fulfillment of eternal purpose, save by the authority of heaven. The ultimate authority of heaven is the principle. It is of abiding importance and application. It for evermore sweeps out all possibility of rivalry, and all sense that some piece of work is more important than some other within the authority of heaven, however much it may seem to be so when judged by human statistics.
It becomes all the more arresting when thus stated by John in reference to his own work, and that of the Messiah. There was no room for any thought of competition or rivalry. For what a man receives he is responsible; and to have any share, under heaven’s authority, whether it be that of a voice crying, or of the Word Incarnate, is of itself supreme majesty and dignity. Between those thus authorized, there can be nothing in the nature of rivalry. Having laid down the principle, John applied it.
He applied it first to himself. “Ye yourselves bear me witness, that I said, I am not the Christ, but, that I am sent before Him.” He thus claimed that his work had been authorized from heaven. He had received from heaven his call, his gift. He employed no terms that could be construed as derogatory to the splendour of his own work. He was magnifying his office. He was claiming he was sent, not as the Christ, but before Him, a voice.
Then he applied the principle to the Messiah Himself, “He that hath the bride is the bridegroom; but the friend of the bridegroom, which standeth and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because of the bridegroom’s voice; this my joy therefore is fulfilled.”
John was addressing Jews, people familiar with their own literature; and with his mind, thinking of Jesus as Messiah, he fell back upon a remarkable figure of speech with which they were familiar in their own writings. He had already in differing ways described the Messiah, the varying tones all being needed to reveal His glory. He had spoken of Him as coming with the fan, coming with the fire, corning with the axe; and as “The Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world.” Now he spoke of Him as the Bridegroom. That was figurative language taken from the Old Testament. In Hosea the language of God concerning His people, was, “I have betrothed thee unto Me for ever.” In Ezekiel the same figure of speech is found, and yet again in Malachi. This figure of the bridegroom and the bride, always suggested the relationship between Jehovah and His people.
Believing too that in the Song of Solomon, though an Eastern love-song, there are mystical intentions and suggestions; the same idea is present. So John catches up that idea, in the poetry and the prophecy of the Old Testament, and applies the figure to Jesus, as he speaks of Him as the Bridegroom.
In that connection he describes his relation to Him, and shows what it meant to him. He speaks of himself as “the friend of the Bridegroom.” That was a great office in the Eastern lands. The friend of the bridegroom was the one who ceremonially handed the bride to her groom; and until he had done it, the groom’s voice was not heard. As he handed the bride to her bridegroom, the voice of the bridegroom accepting her was heard. John, recognizing the relationship between Jehovah and His people, said, I am “the friend of the Bridegroom.” It has been my business to lead the Bride to Him. Now I have heard His voice. That is my joy, “now my joy is fulfilled.”
Then followed the last great statement. I never read these final words of John without feeling their dignity and majesty. None greater ever fell from human lips. “He must increase, but I must decrease.” That expressed the perfect content of a man who knew he had received from heaven his authority, who had carried out his great mission. He had heard the voice of the Bridegroom welcoming the bride he had introduced, in that first group of disciples he had pointed to Jesus. Then the quiet, restful, triumphant content, as, conscious of heaven’s authority, and all of his mission fulfilled, he said, “He must increase … I must decrease.” There was no unwarranted derogation of his own personality or work; but the content of the star as its lustre is lost in the rising glory of the sun. “He must increase, but I must decrease.” Such was the Recessional.
Then we have the comments of the writer, constituting the Processional. He begins, “He that cometh from above is above all; he that is of the earth is of the earth, and of the earth he speaketh; He that cometh from heaven is above all.”
John the evangelist was thus showing the difference between the voice and the Word; the friend of the Bridegroom, and the Bridegroom Himself; pointing out the infinite distance between John and Jesus, the Christ, the Son of God. He speaks of Him as the One “that cometh from heaven”; “cometh,” not came. The eternal present tense is used, always coming from above. Jesus “cometh from heaven.” What of John? He “is of the earth, and of the earth he speaketh.” Again, that is not the language of disrespect to John. It is language, recognizing the limitation of John’s ministry.
He is of the earth. Jesus is the One “that cometh from above”; and because He “cometh from above,” He “is above all.” Mark the contrast. John, of the earth, as to his birth and his being. Jesus, from above, as to His begetting and His Being. The contrast is quite sharp. John of the earth, speaking of the earth, Divinely authorized so to do, but having no more to say than that.
But now the One Who is always coming from above, Whose begetting and Being can only be accounted for in that way, and Who therefore is for ever “above all.”
So much for the two personalities. Then, running on, he described the mission of the One Who comes from above, and the language is in itself so simple that if we are not attentive, we miss the sublimity of it. “What He hath seen and heard, of that He beareth witness.” In the statement there is a double idea. What He has seen, are the eternal facts, the facts out of the midst of which He has come from above, the things with which He is familiar because of His eternal relationship to them. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” “What He hath seen” in those relationships. “And heard.” What does that mean? The first statement, “What He hath seen” refers unquestionably to the eternal facts. “What He hath heard” refers to His mission, the Evangel with which He has been charged. The eternal verities, He sees; the counsels of God, He has heard. These are the things to which John says He has come to bear witness.
Again we go back to the prologue, and link up the great themes. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” “And the Word became flesh, and pitched His tent among us (and we beheld His glory, glory as of the only begotten Son of the Father), full of grace and truth.” “No man hath seen God at any time ; the only begotten Son, Which is in the bosom of the Father, He hath declared Him.” These things which no man had seen, the Word has seen, and now He “Who is in the bosom of the Father, hath declared Him.” He bears witness to the eternal things, the things He has seen. But more, He bears witness to the counsels and purposes of God, through which He has come, the things He has heard. Seen things, the eternal facts; heard things, the evangel.
Then follows that admittedly startling and strange parenthesis “and no man receiveth His witness.” Surely that was a superlative utterance, not intended to be taken literally. Evidently so, because the next thing he says is this, “He that hath received His witness, hath set his seal to this, that God is true.” Years after he wrote; “The whole world lieth in the evil one,” while writing to those who were no longer under the control of the evil one. We find a similar parenthesis in the words of Jesus recorded by Matthew, “All things have been delivered unto Me of My Father; and no one knoweth the Son save the Father,"-a parenthesis expressing a difficulty of the moment. He went on, “He that receiveth His witness, hath set his seal to this, that God is true.” He that “cometh from above” has seen the eternal facts; has heard the counsel of God, and He bears witness to these things; and the man who accepts that witness, sets his seal to the fact that God is true; that all the old economy, finding its culmination in the magnificent words of John, was true. In Jesus such a man finds the Yea and the Amen to every message of God, and to every covenant of God.
Then, still running on. “For He Whom God hath sent speaketh the words of God; for He giveth not the Spirit by measure.” What does this mean? That God does not give His Spirit by measure to the One Whom He has sent? Or that the One He has sent, does not give His Spirit by measure to those to whom He is sent? Perhaps no dogmatic reply to that enquiry is warranted. My own conviction is that both the things are involved. The primary meaning is that the Son came, sent of God, and God did not give the Spirit by measure to Him, for in Him dwelt all the pleroma of the Godhead. I think it is equally true of what He does for us; He gives the Spirit, not in measure, but in fulness, having received that Gift from the Father.
Then John comes to a statement in which he gives the secret for the authority of the Son. “The Father loveth the Son, and hath given all things into His hand.” Now go back and listen to the herald. “A man can receive nothing, except it have been given him from heaven.” He was sent; he received his commission and carried it out. He has done. “I must decrease.” Now says the evangelist, of the One to Whom John had pointed, “The Father hath loved the Son, and delivered all things into His hand.” That accounts for the final authority of the Son.
Then the question of human responsibility is revealed, and needs no comment in the light of its clarity of statement. “He that believeth on the Son hath eternal life; he that obeyeth not the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him.”
Thus we have the interlude of witness; the merging of the old and the new. There is no conflict, but continuity. In the words of the epistle to the Hebrews, “He taketh away the first, that He may establish the second.” The final word of the old economy, the fitting final word is, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” The appropriate annunciation of the new is, “The Father loveth the Son, and hath given all things into His hand.”