The Seven Words from the Cross, Part V - I am thirsty (John 19:28)

We are past halfway done with our series on the seven last words of Jesus (you can click the following links for the first four words, click here: I, II, III, IV). The next two words come from the Gospel of John: "I am thirsty" and "It is finished." They appear close together and are related, but we will following the traditional arrangement by treating them separately.

After this, knowing that all things had already been completed, Jesus, in order to complete the Scripture, said, "I am thirsty." A jar full of sour wine was standing there; so they put a sponge full of the sour wine upon a branch of hyssop and brought it up to His mouth.

- John 19:28-29

Now storytellers have to make selections. They can't just tell every little detail that happened. They have to pick the most salient details. So any story the evangelists bother to tell they probably tell for a reason. Despite our perennial interest in the gory details, they give us very little by way of the physical aspects of Jesus' passion and death. Yet John bothers to mention that Jesus declares his thirst from the cross. He was probably also tired, hungry, short of breath and in agonizing pain. But they don't tell us about this. They do, however, tell us he was thirsty. Or, should I say, he tells us he is thirsty.

Why does John bother to tell us this? What is the significance of Jesus' declaration of his thirst?

Well, it probably won't surprise you that, since we are dealing with John's Gospel, there's probably some subtle (and not-so-subtle) symbolism going on here. The interpretative problem here is not so much whether there is a symbolic gesture here but which symbolic gesture is the key to understanding the passage. There are a number of possible symbolic connections to other Johannine themes and Old Testament motifs. Perhaps all of these are operating at some level. However, some prioritizing judgments probably need to be made to interpret the passage coherently. Let me just note some of the symbolic possibilities of some key elements of the passage for you to consider in your own wrestling with the text.

First of all, there is the rather obvious reference to Jesus doing this so that the Scriptures being fulfilled (technically "completed," but more on that next week). But what Scripture is fulfilled by Jesus saying he is thirsty? He does not appear to be directly quoting any specific verse.

There are two standard options given by interpreters. The first is that there is a reference being made here to Psalm 69:22, "for my thirst they gave to me vinegar to drink." That gets the language of "thirst" in play as well as the reference to "vinegar," which is what Jesus drinks. The second is that the dry mouth of Psalm 22:16 is being echoed here. Given the detail, the former is probably more likely. But the latter cannot be ruled given the significance of Psalm 22 throughout the passion narratives of all four Gospels and early Christian preaching. Perhaps John is playing off both. Whatever Scripture is being alluded to here, the point is that the mode of Jesus' death is a fulfillment of Scripture. That means it is not an accident. Jesus didn't just have a bad weekend in Jerusalem. Nor was it even a bad thing which God later made into something good, as we so often speak of evils in our lives. Rather, Jesus was knowingly and willingly fulfilling the plan of God in his death.

Second, there is the opening line that Jesus says this knowing that everything had been completed. Now this taps into a larger theme in John concerning Jesus' knowledge of his mission. The last events of his life are introduced by a similar reference to Jesus knowing that the time had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father (13:1). Later, Jesus is said to know all the things that were about to happen to him as he initiates the arrest sequence (18:4). Earlier in the gospel of John there is much talk of Jesus' knowledge of the Father and of the Father's will for him. This theme reaches its apex here, were Jesus is said to know that the things which he was sent to do have taken place. They are completed.

Noting this thematic connection is important because it seems to imply that Jesus says he is thirsty in order to "wrap things up" so to speak. The declaration of his thirst is not intended as window into his experience on the cross, but rather as a witness to his own freedom and purposiveness. Jesus is Lord even in his death. Regnum crucis: he reigns from the cross. "I lay down my life ... no one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down" (10:17b-18a).

Third, there is what he is given to drink in response to his thirst. The vinegar bit seems clearly linked to the Scriptural fulfillment, and it is shared with some other gospel writers. But John makes a major change from the synoptics by indicating that the vinegar was not given to Jesus via a "reed" but on a "branch of hyssop." This change should catch our attention. The possibility of a symbolic connection here is hard to miss, for hyssop appears throughout the Old Testament, most significantly in Exodus 12:22 in conjunction with the Passover Lamb. Now we don't want to make a theological mountain out of a textual molehill, but this symbolic reading is validated by the repeated references to the Passover Lamb through the book of John (cf. 1:29; 19:14; 19:33, 36). So it is reasonable to suggest that John is narratively presenting Jesus as the true Passover Lamb, even as he has been presented as the true King and true Priest earlier in the passion narrative.

Fourth and finally, there is the significance of thirst itself. John loves to talk about thirsting, drinking, pouring, etc. It is a very liquid gospel. And not just passing references to water baptism and changing water into wine, but whole discourses playing off thirsting and drinking, such as Jesus' conversation with the Samaritan woman (John 4), the streams of living water that flow from those that come to him (John 7:37-38), and the cup which Jesus is resolved to drink (18:11). Thirsting and drinking are intimately connected with what Jesus was sent to give to us and give up for us. He thirsts as the one who gives us drink. He takes our bitter cup (and takes it away!), and gives us his fresh, living waters, which flow from his side. Blessed is he who hungers and thirsts for righteousness, for he shall be filled.

Any thoughts?
Are there some interpretative possibilities that I have neglected to mention?
Do you find some of these interpretative possibilities more plausible than the others?
Is there any one aspect mentioned above that you think is the key for understanding this word from the cross?
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And His Name Shall Be Called ... Wonderful Counselor (Advent Reflections Part 1)

During Advent, the church both remembers the waiting of Israel for the coming of the messiah and remembers her own waiting for the coming again of the messiah. Now how Israel and the church wait looks different. Israel waits for the one who is to come. The church waits for the coming again of the one who has already come. But who we wait for is the same. Despite the different form of our waiting, the content of our waiting is identical. Therefore, we can learn from Israel about the one whom we await. We can learn from them about him.

Learn from them about him. That's what I aim to do in the following four-week series of Advent Reflections. Specifically, I am going to reflect on the four messianic titles of Isaiah 9:6. His name shall be called (1) Wonderful Counselor, (2) Mighty God, (3) Prince of Peace, (4) Everlasting Father.

Now I will acknowledge up front that much of what I will say in the following reflections cannot be gleaned directly from this prophetic text. Much of the content of my reflections will draw on the apostolic witness to Jesus Christ (a.k.a., the New Testament). Isaiah 9:6 will for the most part serve as a way of organizing and orienting my thoughts.

However, I join the church in believing that the truest referent of all prophetic texts is Jesus Christ, even if there is not a perfect one-to-one correspondence between text and referent in matters of detail. In other words, I believe Isaiah really is talking about Jesus. Although it must be applied cautiously, this claim must be affirmed confidently.

Well, enough preliminaries. On to the first title.

Part 1 - Wonderful Counselor

First of all, it is worth noting that there should not be a comma between "wonderful" and "counselor." This disjunction nicely fits the cadence of Handel's Messiah. But such a division disrupts the parallelism of the titles in the original language, each of which consists of a noun and a modifier. So the first thing we must say about the one who was and is to come is that he is a counselor, and wonderful one at that.

So, what does it mean for Christ to be called Wonderful Counselor?

(1) He accomplishes the purposes of God. One's counselor is a party to one's counsels. A participant in one's plans, both in deliberation and execution. The messiah is God's counselor. We'll get to how he is our counselor in a moment. But in the first instance Christ is God's counselor. He is a party to the "counsels of God" (an archaic but telling phrase). He participates in the willing and enactment of God's plans. Although it is difficult to render in English, this notion is probably the closest to the original sense of the phrase. The revelation and execution of God's mysterious plans is celebrated in Ephesians 1:3-10. Although we don't want to turn the trinity into a committee, there is a sense in which the Father and Son make and fulfill plans, plans which glorify God and benefit us. His name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, because he accomplishes the purposes of God.

(2) He guides us into truth and righteousness. But he is not only God's counselor; he is also our counselor. He is our counselor not in the sense of accomplishing our purposes, but rather as our guide. I'm thinking here of how Jesus speaks of the Holy Spirit as "counselor" (paracletos) in John 14 & 16. He says that the Spirit will guide us into truth and righteousness. Interestingly, the Spirit is introduced in John 14:16 as "another counselor" (allon paracleton). The Son is one counselor, the Spirit is another. So, the Christ is our counselor. Though their work must be differentiated, Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit share in this guiding activity. His name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, because he guides us in matters of truth and righteousness.

(3) He is our advocate before God. But the language of counselor not only connotes friendly guidance but also legal representation. This multi-valence of the Greek paracletos is also found in English. Lawyers are actually referred to as "counselors" in the context of a courtroom. So Christ not only counsels us in our daily knowing and living, but also stands beside us as our advocate before God the Father. He is our advocate. If we sin, we have an advocate before the father, Jesus Christ, the righteous one, who is the propitiation for our sins, and not only our sins but the sins of the whole world (John 2:1b-2). He stood in for us on the cross, he stands up for us now, and he will stand with us at the final judgment. His name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, because he is our advocate before God.

Jesus Christ wonderfully accomplishes the purposes of God, wonderfully guides us into truth and righteousness, and wonderfully advocates for us before God. Jesus Christ so counsels wonderfully. This advent we remember waiting for and remember to wait for the coming one, whose name shall be called Wonderful Counselor.
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"Believing That" and "Believing In"

After Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, some believe in him, while others went back to report to the Jewish leaders who were plotting to kill Jesus. This news prompts a discussion of whether they should get rid of Lazarus too (see John 11). This twofold response to the miraculous sign of Jesus' power over death struck me: the divide was not between those who believed that Jesus raised him and those who do not. The dividing line is those who believed in Jesus because of the sign, and those who sought to destroy him because of the sign. In both cases, the respondents believed that the miraculous event took place. The issue at hand was whether or not to believe in the miracle worker himself.

Belief in our world often takes the form of a debate over believing that certain things happened. But the signs in John's gospel make it clear that these things happen so that we might believe in the one who is sent from the father. They are signs, pointing us to him. So just believing that these things happened is not enough. We must also believe in the one to whom they point.

In his autobiography Surprised by Joy, C. S. Lewis shares a story about Old Knock, his rationalistic agnostic tutor, who one day flippantly noted about the resurrection that "it might have happened once." This passing remark about the possibility of resurrection got Lewis asking some serious questions about Christian beliefs, yet it was clear that for Old Knock the obstacle was not believing that Jesus was raised from the dead. What was missing was the next step: believing in the risen Lord Jesus.

Of course, we cannot make the opposite mistake whereby we try to believe in without believing that. This is a common liberal protestant habit of mind: affirming the spiritual significance of the symbols of faith while crossing one's fingers concerning the historical substance of those beliefs. Such attempts to have our cake and eat it too are destined to fail because a castle of faith cannot be built on sand. Our faith must have a genuine object for it to be genuine faith.

But the warning bell I wish to ring this week concerns our tendency to exert a disproportionate amount of energy on matters of "believing that" while neglecting the problem of "believing in." We are deceived if we think that one more argument or one more piece of evidence will make all the difference to turn people's eyes to Jesus. We should not ignore arguments or evidence, but our foremost concern should be to draw people to a faith in this man from Nazareth.

Any thoughts?
Have you ever encountered someone who believed that without believing in?
Have you ever encountered someone who believed in without believing that?
How do we keep these aspects of believe in proper order and balance?

The Shepherd and the Witness

This week I am concluding a series of sermons on the Gospel of John coordinated with the church calendar. The last few weeks have concentrated on the Resurrection narratives in John 20-21. There is an intriguing sub-theme running through the appearances: the relationship between Peter and the Beloved Disciple, who I will name John (acknowledging the debate and mystery surrounding his identity). I'd like to share the data with you, reflect on its meaning, and suggest some implications.

- John is the first to reach the empty tomb and see the linen (20:5-6)
- Peter is the first to go inside the empty tomb (20:6)

- Peter is the first to see the burial cloth (20:7)
- John is the first to believe (20:8)

- Peter decides to go fishing (21:3)
- John & the others follow (21:3)

- John is the first to recognize Jesus (21:7)
- Peter swims ahead of John & the others (21:7)

- Peter is commissioned to feed/tend Jesus' sheep/lambs (21:15-18)
- John is identified as the true witness of Jesus (21:20-25)

What is the significance of this relationship?

First of all, at the textual level Peter is identified as the first in action among the disciples. He is the mover and shaker, while the others follow his lead. He is the symbolic leader of the apostles, the titular head of the church, and Jesus' appointed shepherd of the flock. We get the impression that the disciples (including John) would not do anything until Peter does it first.

John, on the other hand, is first in insight among the disciples. He sees and understands what is going on. He is the true witness, the recorder of facts and insights, the seer into the deep truths and mysteries of the story of Jesus. We get the impression that the disciples (including Peter) would not know anything until John knows it first.

Secondly, it is clear that the community surrounding the author/compiler of the Fourth Gospel is concerned about the relationship between Petrine and Johannine authority. The Gospel of John acknowledges the authority of Peter (and his successors in Rome?), while at the same time establishing the authority of John (and his successors in Ephesus?). The Evangelist is able to acknowledge both simultaneously by employing the above distinction between the authority of leadership and the authority of witness.

Thirdly, the relationship between Peter and John raises questions about how we understand authority in the church today. I suspect that we assume authority of leadership and authority of witness are usually found in the same person. We expect our leaders (organically and institutionally, locally and denominationally) both to lead us into action and to express insight into truth. While it is not impossible that both charisms may be found in one person, the final chapters of John should give us pause in our expectations.

Could it be that we have expected too much from our authorities? Could it be that our greatest frustrations emerge when we expect witness from a leader and leadership from a witness? Could it be that a differentiated authority structure is possible (organically and institutionally, locally and denominationally)? Could it be that some of us are called to one form authority and not the other, and we should learn to respect those called to the other? Could it be that we would fulfill our vocations more fully if we stayed within our particular given authority?

Any thoughts?
Do you buy the distinction between leadership-authority and witness-authority?
What would a differentiated authority structure based on this distinction look like?
What other implications might this distinction have?