3. Authorship

IN THIS CHAPTER WE WILL EXAMINE briefly some issues concerning the authorship of the Johannine literature. Although the commentary proper does not depend on views of authorship, the question may prove relevant for questions of historical reliability (hence to some extent also the question of where in the range of the biographical genre the work falls). Unfortunately, for some critics, views of authorship remain a litmus test of either ecclesiastical or academic orthodoxy. Although my Matthew commentary treated authorship in three pages and arrived at only tentative conclusions (with no effect on the commentary proper),⁶⁹⁵ a few reviewers expended more ink discussing my view of authorship than the social-historical work on which the commentary proper focused. For better or worse, my conclusions on John are less tentative, less concise, and less in keeping with the scholarly consensus. They are, nevertheless, no more essential to the substance of the commentary proper, and I hope the commentary's value will not be evaluated primarily on whether it concurs with current scholarly consensus on this issue.

Common authorship for much of the Johannine literature and apostolic authorship for the Fourth Gospel are minority opinions in scholarly circles, sometimes associated with discredited dependence on church tradition. Yet forced-choice logic that automatically dismisses the value of our earliest extant traditions is no more academically sound than a mindset that accepts all of them uncritically. The extant historical evidence for the Fourth Gospel's authorship is hardly certain, but the evidence is more than adequate to question the dogmatism with which many scholars have opposed it.

Communities of interpretation do affect the plausibility structures one accepts, including those in matters of literary approaches. Thus nineteenth-century critics often denied any influence of Homer in the Iliad, whereas in the wake of declining skepticism a subsequent generation of scholars viewed the objections to Homeric influence as weak.⁶⁹⁶ Similarly, where nineteenth-century scholarship often doubted Homer's existence and denied the internal unity of both the Iliad and Odyssey, much of early-twentieth-century scholarship changed its views.⁶⁹⁷

Conservative circles in biblical studies are more apt to accept early church tradition (external attestation), whereas in some academic circles the mere acceptance of views which can be denigrated as «conservative» brings into question onés academic integrity.⁶⁹⁸ Because most scholars write academic works for the latter community, scholarly consensus exerts a pressure of tradition no less coercive than its analogues in more conservative church circles. For this commentary I might therefore have preferred to arrive at conclusions more amenable to the scholarly consensus; but after weighing the evidence, I believe that traditional conservative scholars have made a better case for Johannine authorship of the Gospel (at least at some stage in the process) than other scholars have made against it. On many points, such as views concerning the Gospel's milieu or some other traditional ascriptions of authorship for canonical books, I find the most common conservative arguments less convincing and early church tradition (e.g., on the Gospel's antignostic purpose) less likely;⁶⁹⁹ but a view ought not to be ruled out in all cases merely because it coincides with traditional opinions or differs from a consensus widespread in academic circles.

Although the question of authorship is not essential to the commentary which follows (I usually employ the language of «traditions» familiar to Johannine scholarship), it is important in completing our questions raised by the issue of genre. If the author or the author's direct source is, as the implied author seems to claim, an eyewitness, his interpretation of the historical Jesus rests on a tradition no farther removed from the historical Jesus than the Synoptics (except in the liberties of theological interpretation permitted by his style). This conclusion follows whether the Fourth Gospel was authored by, or rests on tradition from, an eyewitness or eyewitnesses (whether John the Apostle, John the Elder, or another), independent from the Synoptics.⁷⁰⁰

The question of authorship is not decisive for substantial historical reliability; even an eyewitness could have adapted information considerably, whereas a secondhand source (like Luke) could have accurately preserved earlier tradition.⁷⁰¹ Thus, Dodd rightly points out, Plato exercised considerable freedom with the teachings of his master Socrates.⁷⁰² But an author who was an eyewitness could at least validate his claim to know the substance of Jesus» ministry and teaching firsthand, as the author does in fact claim (19:35; cf. 1 John 1:1–4; for the identity of the author with the beloved disciple, see below). Further, even if an eyewitness employed an existing stream of tradition (which could be based on collective recollections, e.g., Philostratus Vit. soph.1.22.524),⁷⁰³ he could supplement it independently (Thucydides 1.22.1).⁷⁰⁴

As J. Ramsey Michaels has observed, many scholars who refer to the other extant canonical gospels as «Matthew,» «Mark,» and «Luke,» without regard to their authorship, speak of John simply as the «Fourth Gospel,» as if the evidence for Johannine authorship is weaker than the evidence for Synoptic authorship. But, if anything, the evidence for Johannine authorship is stronger.⁷⁰⁵

Despite the reticence with which such a proposal is often greeted in some circles of the larger academy, many scholars today continue to hold that John authored the Fourth Gospe1.⁷⁰⁶ Others hold that the beloved disciple on whose tradition the Gospel is based was John the apostle, regardless of who edited and arranged that tradition for the written Gospe1.⁷⁰⁷ (The latter view is common enough that one commentator in the mid-60s could still claim that the usual modern view is that the author is a disciple of the apostle «who based his work largely upon the testimony and teaching of his venerated master.»)⁷⁰⁸ Together these positions maintain considerable support; in Charlesworth's list of views concerning the identity of the beloved disciple they in fact hold the longest list of defenders.⁷⁰⁹ The traditional view of Johannine authorship still seems to many the position best favored by the evidence, as articulated in the earlier work of Raymond Brown and some other commentators like D. A. Carson.

I believe that Gerald Borchert is correct in noting that, whereas John the disciple ultimately «stands behind» the Gospel, others may have developed his tradition into the finished Gospe1.⁷¹⁰ Yet the precise degree of freedom implied in the designation «developed» is debatable, and the evidence is not clear in either direction. After examining the evidence put forth to distinguish John from those who helped him write the Gospel, I find no evidence that John must have been deceased or lacked substantial control over what went into the Gospel (though evidence to the contrary is also difficult to find). Preferring the simplest solution (following the logic of Ockham's Razor), I would therefore lean toward the view that John is the author of the Gospel as we have it, to whatever degree he might have permitted his scribe or scribes freedom in drafting his sermonic materia1. While I am prepared to change my mind (as Raymond Brown did after his own defense of Johannine authorship), this is where I honestly believe the evidence surveyed below points.

The authorship of the Fourth Gospel has been vigorously debated,⁷¹¹ although the traditional consensus from early Christian centuries that the Apostle John wrote it has now given way to a majority scholarly skepticism toward that claim. But this consensus has been ably challenged by some recent conservative commentators, most notably Leon Morris, D. A. Carson, and Craig Blomberg, and it has been challenged with good reason.

The traditional position does make sense of the internal evidence. The «beloved disciple» purports to be an eyewitness (19:35; cf. 1:14; 1 John 1:1–3), on whose direct claims the Gospel is based. The author also purports that this disciple followed Jesus closely, in a role that could not have easily belonged to someone outside Jesus» inner circle of disciples. Of the Twelve known from early Christian tradition, only John son of Zebedee could fill the role of the beloved disciple. A number of scholars recognize that John fits the evidence in the Fourth Gospel for this beloved disciple.⁷¹² Before examining the internal evidence for Johannine authorship, we must examine some questions that have been raised concerning the beloved disciplés identity.

It should be noted that many distinguish the question of the beloved disciplés identity from the question of the author's identity because many (probably most) scholars distinguish the beloved disciple from the author. We will deal with that frequent distinction in our discussion of the Johannine school below, but at this point mention by way of introduction that we do not conclude that the evidence for such a distinction is compelling, hence we do not presuppose it in our examination below.

There remains no consensus in Johannine scholarship concerning the identity of the beloved disciple.⁷¹³ Some have proposed that he was a disciple of Jesus but not one of the Twelve.⁷¹⁴ One could argue that the beloved disciple is not one of the Twelve because he is not mentioned by the «beloved disciple» title until the last discourse and Passion Narrative⁷¹⁵ (one could also use this to separate sections of the Gospel into sources). But Judas is first mentioned in 6and plays no role until 12:4; the other Judas appears only in 14:22; Thomas first appears in 11:16. Did the author want us to think that these disciples entered Jesus» circle in the narrative world only at their first mention in the narrative? Conversely Nathanael, who plays a major role in 1:45–49, does not appear again until 21:2. Xenophon mentions his own presence only after he assumes a role of leadership in the retreating Greek army, but hardly appeared only then in the midst of Persia! Further, if the beloved disciple is a newly acquired Judean disciple, how did he so quickly achieve a position of special honor (13:23)?

Beasley-Murray argues that if the beloved disciple were one of the Twelve, he would have been sufficiently well known outside the Johannine circle of churches for the author to have named him.⁷¹⁶ This argument, however, assumes that the only reason for anonymity was lack of renown, when in fact a wide variety of other possible reasons have been offered (see below). Indeed, might the author not have more freedom to leave him unnamed if he was known (especially if he were the author)? Another scholar suggests that the author was a priest because Polycrates, an early bishop of Ephesus, claimed that the beloved disciple was a prominent priest (Eusebius Hist. ecc1. 3.31.3; 5.24.3).⁷¹⁷ But Polycrates in the same texts also calls that disciple «John,» and may have intended «priest» figuratively in accordance with a common early Christian usage (1Pet 2:5, 9; Rev 1:6; 5:10; 20:6; cf. Rom 12:1; 15:16; Phil 2:17).⁷¹⁸ Given the honorable status this tradition claims for «John,» its isolation militates against its likelihood in any literal sense.⁷¹⁹

More plausibly, commentators argue that the Gospel cannot be from one of the Twelve because it is too different from the Synoptics, which do rest on tradition from the Twelve, to derive from the same source.⁷²⁰ But this objection assumes that the Twelve promulgated tradition as a unified group in a unified style with a unified perspective. In a period still dominated by apostolic tradition (before the second century), who but a remaining apostle might have the status to diverge from the Synoptics? Most commentators recognize that Johns abundant information not found in the Synoptics represents an independent source or tradition of some sort, but if this independence points in either direction, would it not point somewhat better to an eyewitness than to someone dependent only on tradition?⁷²¹ Second-century pseudepigraphic works claim apostolic authorship precisely because such validation was necessary for acceptance. Johns use among the orthodox was delayed (perhaps in part due to divergence from the Synoptics), but on the authority of Papias Irenaeus embraced it while rejecting the decades-later gnostic works with pseudonymous claims (see discussion below). Our counterargument is no stronger than the argument we answer here, but will prove helpful in view of positive arguments favoring apostolic authorship (below).

Browns argument that the beloved disciple was not one of the Twelve because of his competition with Peter⁷²² cuts in the opposite direction equally well or better. How could the beloved disciple be exceptionally close to the Lord, and able to be viewed as competition for Peter, were he not one of the Twelve? The comparison in any case elevates the beloved disciple without necessarily diminishing Peter. A standard technique of epideictic rhetoric was comparison; one would compare the main character favorably with another person to praise the former.⁷²³ Bruns similarly is convinced that the author of the Gospel and Epistles could not have been an apostle since he was challenged (3 John 9),⁷²⁴ but other early Christians were not afraid to challenge apostles, especially if the challengers ascribed apostolic status to themselves or their tradition (2Cor 11:5, 13–15;⁷²⁵ Gal 2:6–8; Rev 2:2).

Of specific candidates outside the circle of the Twelve, the most entertaining suggestion is probably Paul (whom the Gospel's author allegedly thought to be one of the Twelve).⁷²⁶ But one of the more commonly proposed and most defensible candidates is Lazarus, «whom Jesus loved» (11:3).⁷²⁷ This makes sense of the phrase, though it makes less sense of the frequency with which, and locations in which, the disciple appears in the narrative, if an earlier case of anonymous disciples (1:37–40) includes him (which is uncertain). One might propose that Lazarus of Bethany would have readier access to the high priest's house in 18:15–16 than a Galilean disciple (if the disciple of 18:15–16 is the beloved disciple, which is uncertain); the Synoptics might also have omitted Lazarus to protect him because of his location.⁷²⁸

Yet the case for Lazarus suffers from the primary objection to anyone outside the Twelve– the beloved disciplés prominence in Jesus» circle (13:23). Unless the beloved disciplés tradition is either originally deliberately false or a literary device (on the latter see below), he assumes a role that the Synoptic tradition would allow only for one of the Twelve, and probably for one of the three (Peter, James and John). Certainly 21assumes his prominence. One could argue that the Synoptic tradition is biased in favor of the Twelve–despite Peter's repeated failures in Mark–but it is difficult to dispute the reliability of the tradition that Jesus had a group of twelve special disciples who were closest to him.⁷²⁹ Other arguments against identification with the Twelve falter on similar grounds.

Of the Twelve, the best specific candidate besides John son of Zebedee would be Thomas.⁷³⁰ Although Charlesworth's case for Thomas is novel, it is brilliant. Yet it poses problems that Johannine authorship does not. Since Thomas is explicitly named in the Gospel, why is the beloved disciple sometimes anonymous and sometimes not? Arguments to the contrary notwithstanding,⁷³¹ the first audience would likely not assume that the beloved disciple was Thomas unless they already knew this to be the case, which we cannot. In favor of Thomas is his demand to touch Jesus» side in 20:25, though only the beloved disciple saw the wounds at the cross (19:34–35).⁷³² But that Thomas announces this demand to his fellow disciples probably presupposes that they all knew about the wounded side, which is plausible in the story world if the beloved disciple was one of the Twelve and could have informed them. It would be literary genius if Thomas verified both the cross and the physicality of the resurrection,⁷³³ but it is hardly necessary. Thomas is not the only witness of the resurrection that balances Johns witness in 1:19–36; he is merely the climactic one.

Granted, Charlesworth finds external evidence that can support his case, including connections between the Fourth Gospel and the school of Thomas in the East, and his command of the sources is exemplary.⁷³⁴ He notes a minor rivalry between East (as exemplified in the beloved disciples tradition) and West (as exemplified by Peter),⁷³⁵ and compares the earliest Thomas traditions with this Gospe1.⁷³⁶ Yet for all the evidence he marshalls, it remains the case that the bulk of available external evidence points instead toward the son of Zebedee as apostolic guarantor of the tradition (see below).

Others have proposed that the beloved disciple functions as an anonymous symbolic representative for a larger group, for example, Gentile Christians,⁷³⁷ or, more likely, the Johannine community.⁷³⁸ Perhaps the disciple remains anonymous to challenge the excessive honor accorded Peter in church tradition,⁷³⁹ or to subtly increase his stature.⁷⁴⁰ More importantly and probably, anonymity can allow him to stand in an idealized way for disciples in general, hence as a model for the implied audience (cf. 13:35; 15:8–10).⁷⁴¹ Many other models for faith in the Gospel are likewise anonymous,⁷⁴² though the list of models of faith is not entirely coextensive with anonymous characters (cf. 1:6–7, 49; 5:14–15).⁷⁴³ At the same time, the beloved disciple functions as an ideal witness, hence as an ideal author;⁷⁴⁴ indeed, in the early centuries the claim that the implied author is the «beloved disciple» was regarded as «part of the guarantee of his utter reliability.»⁷⁴⁵ As an inspired teacher of the Jesus tradition, the beloved disciple also parallels the Paraclete.⁷⁴⁶

Wliile the disciple undoubtedly does function this way on the literary level, his referent in the text is to an eyewitness who claims to address the community. (Although Brown denies that the beloved disciple was one of the Twelve, he concurs that he was a companion of Jesus.)⁷⁴⁷ There is no reason that this Gospel cannot use a real historical figure as an idea1.⁷⁴⁸ As Hill suggests, «Mary and Peter also possess a symbolic dimension, but that does not reduce their characters to pure symbols.»⁷⁴⁹ Analogously, Qumran's «Teacher» performed a symbolic function in the Qumran scrolls, but was also a real person.⁷⁵⁰ The beloved disciple is thus also a historical figure, the source of the community's distinctive Jesus tradition.⁷⁵¹ The beloved disciplés identity, like that of Jesus» «anonymous» mother in this Gospel, was probably already known to the audience; omission of the name is probably deliberate for such literary reasons as proposed above.⁷⁵² The first audience presumably recognized the disciplés identity in 21:20–25 if not before.⁷⁵³ If omission of the name is deliberate yet not intended to conceal the author's identity, we probably have enough information from the Synoptic tradition to identify the beloved disciple with John, who is prominent in the Synoptics yet unnamed in the Fourth Gospel (and to whom other evidence does not assign an earlier death as with James and Peter). (That he is the author supported by church tradition only strengthens the proposa1.)

If internal evidence leads us to conclude that this disciple was most likely the Apostle John of Synoptic tradition, this suggests that John is either the author in some sense or the book is pseudepigraphic in some sense. Ancients recognized that forgery (e.g., of letters and legal documents) occurred and sometimes suspected it,⁷⁵⁴ but literary pseudepigraphy was more common than forgery for literary works; pseudonymity was an established and acceptable literary practice of the day, both in broader Greco-Roman⁷⁵⁵ and in some Jewish circles.⁷⁵⁶ Ancient literary critics sometimes sought to distinguish genuine and spurious works attributed to an author (e.g., Aulus Gellius 3.3, on plays of Plautus), or at least make note of which works were disputed.⁷⁵⁷ Sometimes even declamations could be «forged» (falsi) within a generation (Seneca Controv. 1.pref.ll); thus later rhetoricians would, when other evidence (such as coherence with the period they depict) was lacking, use stylistic criteria to evaluate the authenticity of a speech (Dionysius of Halicarnassus Lysias 11–12; Demosth. 50).⁷⁵⁸ When rejecting speeches» authenticity (e.g., Dionysius of Halicarnassus Dinarchus 13), however, one offered more reasons than when accepting them (Dinarchus 12).⁷⁵⁹

Yet the Gospel lacks a major feature characteristic of most pseudepigraphic works: a direct claim to authorship. In other words, pseudonymity is unlikely for the Fourth Gospel, unless we wish to propose «implicit» pseudonymity,⁷⁶⁰ a literary category for which other examples are conspicuously lacking. (Despite the diplomatic language of some modern interpreters, which allows us to call an author a «great theologian» while denying that he or his source was an eyewitness, the author hardly seems a great theologian if, in conflict with his claim, he or his source was not an eyewitness. In a narrative document purporting to be history or biography in the Greco-Roman sense, a false claim to have been present would make the claimant a liar open to charges of distorting the historical enterprise.)⁷⁶¹

The approach used by Westcott in the nineteenth century, which narrows down evidence for authorship to the Apostle John, is often dismissed as unduly traditional today. Nevertheless, his arguments remain valuable⁷⁶² and marshall more significant internal evidence than do any of the competing hypotheses.⁷⁶³ As Craig Blomberg notes, although Westcott wrote long ago and his position requires nuancing, «No full-scale refutation of Westcott has ever appeared.»⁷⁶⁴ Rather, in the nineteenth-century aftermath of historical skepticism's successes, many scholars abandoned Johannine authorship more on the basis of the shift in outlook than of any appeal to previously overlooked evidence.⁷⁶⁵

As Westcott argued, internal evidence clearly points to a Jewish author,⁷⁶⁶ and knowledge of local geography indicates a specifically Palestinian Jew.⁷⁶⁷ (These two introductory points are generally, though not universally, accepted today.) That the Fourth Gospel fiercely favors Galilee over Judea could also suggest that the author was Galilean rather than Judean in origin, although he knew Jerusalem wel1. Johns style also contains significant Semitic elements;⁷⁶⁸ some have argued from this Aramaic flavor that this was his native language.⁷⁶⁹ Since Galilee appears to have been bilingual, this is a much more reasonable thesis than the proposal that he originally wrote the whole Gospel in Aramaic.⁷⁷⁰

The internal evidence also claims that the author was an eyewitness, a claim that should not be lightly dismissed or reinterpreted to suit more ambiguous evidence.⁷⁷¹ Westcott argues further that the eyewitness must have been one of the Twelve, given the scenes to which he was an eyewitness, including the scene parallel to the synoptic Last Supper (Mark 14:17).⁷⁷² These scenes and the disciple s role further narrow him down to the innermost circle of Jesus. The Synoptics list as the three closest disciples to Jesus: Peter, James, and John. Since Peter is contrasted with the beloved disciple, and James died early in the century (Acts 12:2), this leaves John for the special role of the «disciple whom Jesus loved.»

One could respond that episodes where John is present in Mark are absent in this Gospel; would Zebedee s son omit events where he was present?⁷⁷³ But this argument cuts better the other direction; if the beloved disciple was present for most of Jesus» public ministry (as he would have been if he were the son of Zebedee), he would hardly be limited to the stories where Mark declares his presence (unless he needs to return to Mark to jog his memory of when he was specifically mentioned). He has other criteria for selection (20:30–31), and other events take precedence over the transfiguration (Jesus» entire ministry functions thus, 1:14), the raising of Jairus's daughter (the raising of Lazarus), and Jesus» agony in Gethsemane (cf. our comment on 12:27). A stronger argument against narrowing this disciple down to John is his presence at the cross (19:26), whereas Mark claims that all the disciples fled (Mark 14:50). But Mark consistently emphasizes the disciples» failures, and a summary that all fled would not preclude one showing up quietly at the cross any more than it precluded Peter more courageously following into the high priest's house (Mark 14:54). Mark excludes all male followers in any case; to press him against this Gospel, we would have to regard the beloved disciplés most fervent eyewitness claim (19:35) as fictitious or regard this disciple as a woman (pace 19:26).

The process of elimination also helps; while the Fourth Gospel gives voice to disciples who never speak in the Synoptics, the sons of Zebedee are only once mentioned, and then together without separate names (21:2).⁷⁷⁴ Thus John knows of Zebedeés sons (assuming, as we argue on that passage, that John 21 is by the author of the Gospel or, as most hold, at least reflects the same community), the audience of the Gospel knows of them, yet John apparently wishes not to name them–just as the beloved disciple remains anonymous. That John is not mentioned by name⁷⁷⁵ can hardly count against Johannine authorship, if anonymity is deliberate and John knew, as he must have, of Zebedeés sons. If Johns record is at all compatible with that of the Synoptics, then the internal evidence suggests none other than John son of Zebedee.⁷⁷⁶

After the early second century, the Fourth Gospel came into wide use over a broad geographical range.⁷⁷⁷ Consonant with what we find from the internal evidence, church tradition identifies the author of the Fourth Gospel with the Apostle John.⁷⁷⁸ As Raymond Brown put it in his commentary, before he changed his view to the one later expressed in Community of the Beloved Disciple: «… the only ancient tradition about the authorship of the Fourth Gospel for which any considerable body of evidence can be adduced is that it is the work of John son of Zebedee. There are some valid points in the objections raised to this tradition, but Irenaeus's statement is far from having been disproved.»⁷⁷⁹ Likewise, C. H. Dodd, who rejected Johannine authorship, nevertheless conceded that the external evidence for John son of Zebedee was «relatively strong,»⁷⁸⁰ and that «Of any external evidence to the contrary that could be called cogent I am not aware.»⁷⁸¹

Some scholars object to starting with external evidence,⁷⁸² but as with ancient documents in general it seems better to begin with attributed authorship and then evaluate it, rather than beginning with the data that can point in any number of directions. Nunn rightly complains that ruling out external evidence would lead us astray with many other works; external evidence is at least objective.⁷⁸³ External evidence is allowed to weigh more heavily in classical studies than it is in NT studies, where the burden of proof is sometimes stacked so securely against the authorship of some documents that no amount of evidence seems adequate to challenge it. If the external tradition is strong, the burden of proof should remain on those challenging the traditional authorship. Most NT scholars reject Johannine authorship; but this «requires their virtual dismissal of the external evidence,» as Carson argues, though

Most scholars of antiquity, were they assessing the authorship of some other document, could not so easily set aside evidence as plentiful, consistent and plainly tied to the source as is the external evidence that supports Johannine authorship. The majority of contemporary biblical scholars do not rest nearly as much weight on external evidence as do their colleagues in classical scholarship.⁷⁸⁴

But while I believe the external evidence for Johannine authorship is nearly unanimous and is sufficient, it is not complete. Many arguments against John's authorship are weak, but one does wonder why a work by one of the most prominent apostles does not appear for decades in quotations by other early Christian writers. While we argue for Johannine authorship, therefore, we must acknowledge that the external evidence is incomplete, and we need the internal evidence as well as external evidence to make a strong case.

It was not uncommon for ancient readers, like modern ones, to dispute the authorship of particular works.⁷⁸⁵ Nevertheless, the evidence from Christian tradition is consistent and crosses sectarian boundaries.⁷⁸⁶ Gnostic writers claim Johannine authorship even before «orthodox» writers comment on the subject.⁷⁸⁷ «The external evidence, including that of the gnostics and the tradition stemming from Irenaeus, attests Johannine authorship.»⁷⁸⁸ It could be argued that some of the orthodox accepted the claim of Johns authorship to prove its authenticity to other orthodox circles despite its use by the gnostics.⁷⁸⁹ But if the authorial claim were mediated only through the gnostics (and the Gospel as we have it is certainly not a gnostic document), it is doubtful that many of the orthodox (and certainly not Irenaeus!) would have come to its rescue. Irenaeus undoubtedly tells the truth when he claims to depend on early orthodox reports and not merely those of gnostics.

Certain accounts of this authorship are fanciful, even if they may accurately preserve some tradition about it. The Muratorian Canon, for instance, which may derive from as late as the fourth century, reports that after the apostles prayed, God revealed that John, an eyewitness, should write the Gospel down.⁷⁹⁰ Modern scholars are naturally skeptical of the account, whether or not they are committed to antisupernaturalism!⁷⁹¹

Yet other sources are more dependable. The titles of the four gospels all seem to preserve earlier tradition, being themselves early enough and accepted enough to have been unanimous and unchallenged throughout the ancient church.⁷⁹² Since all four titles were probably bestowed simultaneously, given their identical form, they were probably composed to circulate with the collection of four gospels, presumably some time before Tatian's late second-century Diatessaron and definitely before the late second-century superscription of «P⁶⁶. Codex Β and Aleph, though later than P ⁷⁵ , reflect a simpler title for this Gospel, though all three attribute it to John; this suggests that John was already widely accepted as the author before P⁷⁵.⁷⁹³ Some have doubted that the titles themselves predate 180 C.E.,⁷⁹⁴ but if this is the case the unanimity across a wide geographic range is difficult to explain. Others favor a period much earlier in the second century.⁷⁹⁵ In the latter half of the second century Irenaeus, who was never one to agree with gnostics when he did not have to, declares that John lived on in Ephesus until the very end of the first century.⁷⁹⁶ By the time of Irenaeus, Johannine authorship of the Fourth Gospel was already established and apparently unchallenged. Theophilus of Antioch quotes the Gospel and attributes it to John by 181 C.E. (Theophilus 2.22); Tatian, Claudius Apollinaris, and Athenagoras had earlier used it as an authoritative source.⁷⁹⁷

It is not likely that such an important work as the Fourth Gospel circulated anonymously; while it does not explicitly identify its own author, the recipients seem to have known the identity of at least the beloved disciple (21:23–24). In a much earlier period, travelers regularly networked the Pauline churches (e.g., 1Cor 1:11; 11:16; 14:33; 16:12,19; 2Cor 9:2), and any Pauline scholar approaching Gospels research will be astounded at the lack of networking that Gospels scholars sometimes assume among the early churches. Pauline scholars in this case work with a much more solid base of explicit data than Gospels scholars do (see our comments on networking of early churches in our discussion of John and the Synoptics in ch. 1 of our introduction).

Earliest Christian tradition seems to have exercised some ambivalence toward this Gospel, however; it is not recognized in the Roman fathers until the late second century.⁷⁹⁸ Ignatius, bishop of Antioch, neglects this Gospel in his epistles although the focused ethical material of Q and Paul was undoubtedly more useful for his largely hortatory purpose.⁷⁹⁹ Although allusions to Johannine language probably appear in the early second century (especially in Polycarp), our earliest complete «orthodox» citation is from Justin Martyr in the mid-second century,⁸⁰⁰ but since he cites the Fourth Gospel (3:3) only once (in contrast to his Synoptic citations), it is possible that he cites instead an agraphon from pre-Johannine tradition or a subsequent tradition based on John. Osborne notes that the statement could derive from a baptismal liturgy, but counters that there are «many [other] coincidences of thought and expression» between John and Justin that suggest the latter's knowledge of the former;⁸⁰¹ some other scholars concur.⁸⁰²

Some suspect that Justin knows the Gospel but argue that he does not cite it like the Synoptics or regard it as among the memoirs of the apostles.⁸⁰³ Clearly, early Christians cited some gospels (especially Matthew) more than others (such as Mark), but such preferences do not necessarily connote disapproval of the works they cite less.⁸⁰⁴ Further, Justin, like most other of the earliest Christian authors, does not name the authors of the Synoptics any more than he cites the Fourth Gospel directly. But the argument is one of probability, and the support it adds to our case is helpful but limited.⁸⁰⁵ Justin does not name his source, and use of the Fourth Gospel does not identify its author.

Some of the «orthodox» ambivalence expressed toward this Gospel may be due to its early reception by the gnostics, some of whom may have split from the Johannine community, as Brown and other have argued.⁸⁰⁶ Perhaps the Synoptics had already established themselves in widespread circulation and provided a much smaller foothold to the enemies of second-century «orthodoxy.» John s very divergence from the Synoptics probably led to its relatively slower reception in the broader church until it could be explained in relation to them.⁸⁰⁷

Another factor in the relatively late appearance of Johannine material in second-century Christian texts may have been that John was meant to be published locally, only for the Johannine circle of churches in Asia, rather than widely circulated like the other gospels. Our early second-century papyrus fragment P⁵², discovered in Egypt, probably limits the value of this second proposal, however. Although the «orthodoxy» of the community using it cannot be substantiated (the theological orientation of the community that preserved it is unclear, so there is certainly no evidence that the community that originally copied and circulated it was «orthodox»), it is significant that John was being used in the first half of the second century «in a provincial town along the Nile, far removed from its traditional place of composition.»⁸⁰⁸ However much the Fourth Gospel may have been directed toward a specific historical situation, it was only a matter of time before it began to circulate beyond its originally intended readership.

Other reasons may have delayed its widespread use among the mainstream churches. Matthew, which had already been in circulation for some time and provided a ready-made discipling manual, was a favorite of early Christianity. As a very different Gospel, John would not readily supplant it. This objection, too, however, fails to explain fully the absence of widespread quotations before Justin; even if the work were not the prevailing «favorite» of early second-century Mediterranean Christianity, and even if it got a late start in circulation, one might expect more citations than appear. Its delayed citation from writers in communion with the growing eastern Mediterranean network of second-century bishops may have been (as noted above) a reaction to its being co-opted by gnostics.

Some argue that by the mid-second century, apostolic authorship had become a criterion for acceptance, so that originally anonymous documents may have had names attached.⁸⁰⁹ The profusion of pseudonymous early Christian works in the second century (in the early period especially among the gnostics) supports this claim, but one should note that being in the apostolic circle (like Mark or Luke) was sufficient without claiming that an author was an apostle. We should also note that literary works the length of the Gospels rarely circulated in antiquity without an attribution of authorship from the start, whether the attribution was genuine or pseudepigraphic.

Because second-century thinking sought to reduce the source of all major traditions to the Twelve, Brown questions the tradition about John (the Elder) in Papias. He points out that Papias's witness concerning Matthew's «Hebrew» Gospel appears to be mistaken.⁸¹⁰ Brown is certainly correct to criticize the view, attributed to Papias, that our present First Gospel translates a Semitic original; but it is possible that Papias confused an Aramaic sayings source by Matthew with the Gospel subsequently circulating under his name, which had incorporated much of that materia1.⁸¹¹ Papias» (or his interpreters») error need not discredit all the tradition behind Papias» comments on other gospels, or even on Matthew; it is unlikely that the entire tradition on which the report of Papias» words is based was mistaken or a later invention.

Brown's skeptical evaluation of Papias» report on Mark⁸¹² could be either reversed or upheld, depending on onés inclination.⁸¹³ Mark's negative presentation of Peter has been used by critical scholars to argue for an anti-Petrine Tendenz,⁸¹⁴ despite the problems with this position;⁸¹⁵ in contrast, the humble role for Peter in Mark (in contrast to Matthew) has been used by some conservatives to argue for Petrine influence (supposing that only Peter would dare have presented himself in such a self-effacing light), a position not much more problematic.⁸¹⁶ In the absence of evidence to the contrary, Papias's evidence should probably be allowed to figure in the argument. Although its reliability remains less than certain, it is more probable than purely modern hypotheses that have little possible recourse to alternative early tradition or other concrete data.

Despite the preponderance of existing traditions in favor of Johannine authorship, some have found in the tradition evidence for an author different from John son of Zebedee.

If the Apostle John did not write the Fourth Gospel, who did?⁸¹⁷ One of the strongest proposals, which would account for the confusion of the author with the Apostle in early Christian tradition, is «another John,» who just took his tradition from John son of Zebedee.⁸¹⁸ (Others think that the Elder himself was an eyewitness.)⁸¹⁹ Thus Brownlee suggested that the Apostle John may have written an Aramaic signs source in Alexandria, which John the Elder then translated and completed in Ephesus.⁸²⁰ More recently, Martin Hengel holds that the Gospel, Epistles, and probably an early form of Revelation were composed by John the Elder.⁸²¹ Such a position is arguable, but remains open to challenge.⁸²² Thus, for example, Barrett accepts the probability of a John the Elder, but finds no evidence that this Elder lived in Ephesus or was connected in any way with the Fourth Gospe1.⁸²³ But a more serious challenge can be offered.

By the time of Eusebius, the tradition does indeed contain two Johns, but the reliability of Eusebiuse interpretation of Papias, a source nearly two centuries before him, is open to question. According to Eusebius, Papias handed down «traditions from John the elder;»⁸²⁴ «the elder» seems to be a clear allusion to the Johannine authors title in 2 John 1 and 3 John 1.⁸²⁵ Yet Eusebius claims on the basis of this title that Papias distinguishes this elder clearly from the Apostle John, who wrote the Gospel;⁸²⁶ he further cites a local tradition in his day that claimed two Johns, both buried in Ephesus.

An examination of Eusebiuse evidence calls into question the probability of his own claim. Eusebius reports that Papias did not claim to have known the apostles themselves, but only their associates, whose traditions he then memorized and passed on. According to Eusebius, Papias sought to learn the teachings of the elders, «What was said by Andrew, Peter or Philip. What by Thomas, James, John, Matthew, or any other of the disciples of our Lord. What was said by Aristion, and the presbyter John, disciples of the Lord; for I do not think that I derived so much benefit from books as from the living voice of those who are still surviving.» Eusebius comments that, since Papias lists «John» twice, and the second time only after Aristion, who was not an apostle, two different Johns are in mind.⁸²⁷ Eusebiuse exegesis of his own citation of Papias does not support his conclusion. Papias lists apostles whose traditions he sought to learn from others; «Aristion and the elder John» do seem to be set apart from this group, perhaps as those who were still surviving. But if «the elder» John does not mean that he was one of the original apostles, it is difficult in this context to guess what else it might mean. Eusebius plainly records Papias» report that he sought to learn the «teachings of the elders,» and then lists among elders members of the Twelve. By calling Aristion and John «disciples of the Lord,» Papias may also include them among eyewitnesses; but he almost certainly includes the elder John as one of the Twelve, who are also called «disciples» in the same quotation, probably tying them all (including Aristion) to the first generation. Why then are Aristion and John set apart from the others? Perhaps because Aristion and John are the survivors of whom Papias speaks; this would simply confirm the tradition that John outlived the other apostles.

Although Eusebius denies that Papias claims to have known the apostles personally, he concedes that Irenaeus regarded him as a hearer of John, presumably the apostle, and an associate of Polycarp,⁸²⁸ a tradition considerably earlier than Eusebius himself.⁸²⁹ It is Eusebius, and not Papias, who distinguishes the two Johns. But why would Eusebius be so eager to appeal to a different John? It should be remembered that Eusebius was among those who wished to place the Revelation on a lower than apostolic level because of its apparent inclusion of millennial eschatology. He elsewhere cites with favor the report of Dionysius, who distinguishes the Gospel from Revelation on the basis of style. Since Revelation explicitly purports to be written by John, the only way to distinguish the apostolic author of the Gospel from a different author of the Apocalypse is to attribute the latter to a different John.⁸³⁰ It is thus not surprising that, after his discussion of the two Johns in Papias, Eusebius observes that it makes good sense that John the elder, as opposed to John the apostle, wrote the Apocalypse.⁸³¹ Eusebius has a clear agenda in propagating this position.⁸³²

If Papias received traditions directly from the apostle, which is not itself inherently improbable, it becomes likely that the distinction between John the elder and John the apostle merely represents a tendency of tradition to overexegete, a characteristic also found in some rabbinic traditions. The name «John» was fairly common in this period as far as Palestinian Jewish names go,⁸³³ but intrinsic probability does not tend to favor a disciple of the Apostle John named John, with whom the former was inadvertently conflated. Ancient writers sometimes confused persons of the same name, but they also sometimes created new persons on the supposition that two persons of the same name had been confused. Thus a story was circulated that the Pythagorean diet was to be attributed to a different Pythagoras, a story which Diogenes Laertius prudently found unpersuasive.⁸³⁴ In a case not unlike John the elder versus John the apostle, some opined that Pythagoras the philosopher had a student with the same name responsible for the athletic treatises wrongly ascribed to the teacher.⁸³⁵ Distinctions demanded by divergent traditions yielded more than one heroic Heracles and more than one Dionysus.⁸³⁶

How then did the tradition arrive at two Johns, both buried in Ephesus? Even on the face of it, two prominent Johns both buried in Ephesus sounds suspicious. Holy sites were important to ancient religion, and competing churches in Ephesus may have wished to lay claim to the apostlés burial site, giving rise to the tradition of two Johns which Eusebius happily exploits.⁸³⁷ Given the weak exegetical basis in Papias for Eusebius's conclusion, this tradition plus Eusebius's desire to distinguish the Apostle John from the writer of the Apocalypse may serve as the entire basis for his insistence that there were two Johns. When all this is taken into account, it is far more likely that John the elder was none other than John the apostle. We also argued above that the beloved disciple was likely one of the Twelve, which would disqualify a «different» John.

Some conservative commentators have assembled considerable external evidence in support of Johannine authorship, and their arguments bear repeating, at least briefly. Although I find some of their other arguments about the Gospel less convincing (e.g., that its purpose was to evangelize Diaspora Jews and proselytes),⁸³⁸ Carson, Moo, and Morris effectively summarize much of the best external evidence for Johannine authorship and are followed at many points here.⁸³⁹

One could argue that Irenaeus simply inferred Johannine authorship from the Fourth Gospel itself (see internal evidence above) or from 21:24.⁸⁴⁰ Irenaeus was not infallible, and as we shall argue when addressing the life-setting of the Fourth Gospel, his view about its primary milieu is probably mistaken. Yet this hardly means that Irenaeus was mistaken about everything, nor is it likely that he simply fabricated the line of tradition he claims. He personally knew Polycarp, and reported in a letter to Florinus that Polycarp learned much about Jesus from John who had seen the Lord.⁸⁴¹ If Polycarp were martyred at age 86 in 156 C.E., he would have been in his twenties in the 90s of the first century. He provides a natural chronological bridge between Irenaeus and the apostolic tradition in late first-century Asia. Polycarp would have known much about John if he lived there.⁸⁴² Yet if Irenaeus had access to such information in his youth, it would be surprising for him to prove completely mistaken regarding the authorship of the Fourth Gospel, which he explicitly attributes to the disciple John, who leaned on Jesus» breast (Irenaeus Haer. 2.1.2).⁸⁴³ The connection with Polycarp makes it unlikely that Irenaeus simply is guessing; his lack of clarification concerning a second John makes it likely that he referred to the apostle, son of Zebedee, since the Gospel tradition itself reports only one disciple John.

Further, Irenaeus had previously lived in the East and later remained in close touch with the prominent Roman church, so he would likely know if the view he espoused differed from the accepted views of the other churches. But he seems to assume that other churches will support his claims.⁸⁴⁴ After Irenaeus, all sources seem agreed on Johannine authorship. This fact, too, suggests that Irenaeus s claim lacked serious challengers in his day, and that it reflected whatever consensus already existed.⁸⁴⁵

The date of the anti-Marcionite prologues to the Gospels is disputed, but if these prologues stem from the mid-second century (Marcion was active in Rome ca. 140 C.E.) they also may provide some evidence of early tradition. The anti-Marcionite prologue to John claims that Papias's own exegetical books (which could still be checked into the Middle Ages) make John the author by dictation, and (according to the most likely interpretation) Papias his amanuensis. Some of the information attributed to Papias's works here cannot be correct. John might have lived until the end of the first century, but he could not have lived long enough to excommunicate Marcion! If Papias claimed anything of this nature, perhaps it was that John excommunicated people with views like those of Marcion. But Papias's work is no longer extant, and the anti-Marcionite prologue a weaker support in favor of Johannine authorship. Its primary value is its probable attestation that within the second century orthodox Christians were attributing the Gospel to «John,» without any need to specify which John was in view.⁸⁴⁶ The anti-Marcionite prologue to Luke claims that the Apostle John wrote Revelation on Patmos and later added the Gospe1.⁸⁴⁷

By the end of the second century, it is clear that Clement of Alexandria (who called it a «spiritual gospel») and Tertullian accepted Johannine authorship (Eusebius Hist. ecc1. 6.14.7). By this period the only persons to reject it were those stigmatized as the Alogoi, «senseless ones.»⁸⁴⁸ Gaius of Rome was considered orthodox except on this point, but may have rejected Johannine authorship partly due to his polemic against the Phrygian Montanists, who made heavy use of Johannine claims.⁸⁴⁹ From the end of the second century, the Gospel was unanimously accepted as coming from the apostle John. Although Eusebius focused on discussing the disputed works, he regards this Gospel as undisputedly John's, and Eusebius knew many works now lost.⁸⁵⁰

Before the end of the second century the orthodox Christians accepted all four canonical gospels on a level with OT Scripture; Tatian even employed John's chronology as a structure for arranging the other three (a premise about which we would be more skeptical). Granted, much of the evidence for the Gospels authorship–like most of our external attestation for ancient works–is not from the generation immediately following the Gospel; it is, however, almost unanimous, and Irenaeus, an explicit reporter of Johns authorship, was close to Polycarp the disciple of John. Thus Dodd, though he ultimately rejects John as the author on internal grounds, recognizes the lack of external evidence that would dispute a case in favor of Johannine authorship.⁸⁵¹

While not all scholars who deny direct apostolic authorship would attribute the Gospel to «another John,» many scholars still maintain only a base of Johannine tradition in the Fourth Gospe1. The external evidence for Johannine authorship is strong, but it is difficult to understand why it took second-century «orthodox» Christians so long to accept the Gospe1. That John son of Zebedee was the source of a tradition later reworked by others is a workable compromise solution (see further below on the Johannine school). Thus Painter suggests,

One way around these difficulties is to see John as the origin of the tradition, which was ultimately expressed in the Gospe1. Around him a school of disciples developed and the Gospel ultimately issued from them. … In general terms it provides a working hypothesis. It takes account of the claims that the Gospel is based on eyewitness testimony (1.14; 19.35; 21.24) and explains the late appearance and doubtless acceptance of the Gospel in the second century.⁸⁵²

This position is tenable but probably not necessary. When most of our internal and external evidence points to John son of Zebedee as the author, other explanations may be found for the delay of the second-century church in using the Gospe1. Nonapostolic authorship would explain this situation, but, because it appears to contradict more explicit evidence, we do not regard it as the likeliest solution. We have commented above on the probably limited circulation of the Gospel and its use by the gnostics.

Nevertheless, on the whole the Gospels late (i.e., mid-second-century) appearance in orthodox citations is probably the most persuasive objection to Johannine authorship. Given the networking of early Christianity and John's role in earliest Christianity (Acts 3:1; Gal 2:9), one would have expected his Gospel to gain immediate circulation regardless of gnostic exploitation. This is the one argument that might incline the case toward a Johannine tradition written after John's death by one of his disciples. This is not the position I favor, but it runs a close second to it in probability (and also accounts for the tradition's association with John).

One could argue that John son of Zebedee would hardly have omitted special material about Zebedeés sons and other Galilean material for which he would have been an eyewitness.⁸⁵³ As noted above, however, the reverse seems more likely. An eyewitness who traveled with Jesus during his entire public ministry would have much more material from which to choose than appeared in the pool of tradition available to the Synoptics. Further, as we have argued above, it is quite unlikely that a writer who names so many disciples and continues Peter's prominent role would omit John unless he did so deliberately. John's omission of events like the transfiguration⁸⁵⁴ fit his theological Tendenz (cf. 1:14); it is unlikely that the Fourth Gospel's author, even if he were not an eyewitness, would be unaware of the transfiguration tradition (cf. 2Pet 1:16–18).

One might also complain that John, Peter's subordinate in the Synoptics, would not portray himself as Peter's rival here.⁸⁵⁵ But the «rivalry» between the two disciples in this Gospel is not one of rank, and this argument would in any case eliminate any disciple, since all of them were subordinate to Peter in the Synoptics, though James and John were closest.

The objection that has sometimes been raised, that a Galilean fisherman would be too unlettered to write a Gospel (or discuss the Logos),⁸⁵⁶ has been answered so frequently that it does not bear the fullest possible response.⁸⁵⁷ Galilee was not as backward as some have assumed;⁸⁵⁸ the level of literacy in Jewish Palestine was higher than in the rest of the Greco-Roman world;⁸⁵⁹ and fishermen were hardly peasants,⁸⁶⁰ ranking instead with tax-gatherers, carpenters, and artisans as a sort of middle-income group that comprised much of the upper 10 percent of wage earning in antiquity (of which merchants and land-owning aristocracy were but a small fraction).⁸⁶¹ John's own family of origin was prosperous enough to have hired servants (Mark 1:20). Further, the sixty years that had passed since John had moved from fishing to leadership in a prominent movement would have allowed time to acquire new skills expected of leaders in that society.

Besides any skills John had acquired, he undoubtedly would have had help; even the most literate normally used scribes,⁸⁶² and Josephus's staff included style editors to improve his Greek.⁸⁶³ John would have been an unusual writer if he published the work entirely by himself. One scholar even uses this final factor to account for the stylistic differences between the Fourth Gospel and Revelation; exiled on Patmos, John wrote the latter «in his own idiosyncratic Greek.»⁸⁶⁴ But finally, John's Greek is not particularly «literate» Greek anyway; it would demand far less proficiency than the Greek of Luke-Acts, James, Hebrews, 1 Peter, or even the Pastorals.

John s age could be cited as a problem. After all, a fisherman who began following Jesus around 27 C.E. would now have been in his eighties or nineties. A guess in the eighties is reasonable. John and most of the disciples were probably somewhat younger than Jesus when they followed him (13:33; 21:5, though these terms apply to any students regardless of age), though none of them would have been younger than adolescents.⁸⁶⁵ Both fishermen working with their fathers and disciples of teachers could be in their teens. Unlike Peter (Mark 1:30; cf. 1Cor 9:5), no wife for John is mentioned in the Gospels (though one cannot put much weight on this silence). Further, his father, unlike Peter's father-in-law, remains alive at John's calling (Mark 1:20, 29–30). If he was in his mid-teens ca. 27 C.E., he would be in his early eighties in the mid-nineties of the first century. It is true that most people did not live this long, then as today.⁸⁶⁶ But inscriptions attest that some people did live this long, and life expectancy increased considerably if one survived childhood. That one disciple of the Twelve should survive to the end of the first century, and then be prevailed upon to preserve the memoirs which he had been preaching, is not inherently improbable.⁸⁶⁷ That he, like some other Judean Christians, might have followed the Hellenist Diaspora in fleeing Palestine in the wake of the revolt, is no less probable than the widely-attested tradition that Peter ministered in Rome after Paul's death.⁸⁶⁸

Nor should one assume that an elderly survivor would be incapable of dictating a coherent message to his amanuenses, who might then refine it. In many cases, onés mind weakened after age 70 (Philo Creation 103), making it harder to memorize verses after that age (Theophrastus Char. 27.2); it was understood that old age tended to weaken memory (Cicero Att. 12.1; Iamblichus V.P. 5.21; Jub. 23:11).⁸⁶⁹ But Roman census reports included numbers of persons a century old, including some who were famous; Cato the Elder remained in public service, with undiminished memory, at 86.⁸⁷⁰ Some philosophers continued training disciples into old age, one Priscus doing so past age 90 (Eunapius Lives 482); Pacuvius wrote a play at 80 years of age (Cicero Brutus 64.229). Valerius Maximus claims that Carneades continued as active in philosophy at age 90 as before (8.7.ext.5); Socrates reportedly learned the lyre late in life (8.7.ext.8); Chrysippus began his thirty-ninth volume of Logical Problems at age 80 (8.7.ext. 10); and Cleanthes taught till age 99 (8.7.ext. 11). Likewise Simonides taught poetry at age 80 (8.7.ext.l3), and Isocrates, who lived till age 99, composed his Panathenaicus at age 94 (8.7.ext.9).

Historians might also note exceptional foreign rulers who through exercise continued physically and mentally strong into old age.⁸⁷¹ The Romans reportedly made Quinctius ruler when he was over 80 years old (Livy 4.14.2). Valerius Maximus claims that Metellus lived to 100 and remained healthy in public office in old age (8.13.2); Q. Fabius Maximus lived past 100 and held office for sixty-two years (8.13.3); Cicerós wife lived to age 103, and another woman reportedly lived to 115 (8.13.6).⁸⁷² For that matter, C. H. Dodd was in his 80s when he wrote Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel and Goodspeed wrote on Matthew at the age of 90.⁸⁷³ W. D. Davies, born in 1911, was apparently in his 80s when he collaborated with Dale Allison on one of the most scholarly Matthew commentaries produced to date.

To what extent could onés memory remain sharp in old age? At age 90 Proclus the Sophist was reputed for a memory that surpassed even most younger rhetoricians (Philostratus Vit. soph. 2.21.604). Hippias the sophist reportedly could repeat fifty names in sequence, immediately after hearing them, even in his old age (Philostratus Vit. soph. 1.11.495). Tradition reported that Gorgias remained healthy in mind and body till his death at age 108 (Philostratus Vit soph. 1.9.494; Valerius Maximus 8.13.ext.2; cf. the claim in Deut 34:7). Philostratus claimed that whereas others might be growing senile at 56, it was youth for a sophist, since sophists grew in skill with age (Vir. soph. 1.25.543). Seneca the Elder, who may have died in his mid-90s, complains that his memory is not as sharp as in his youth, when he could recite up to two thousand names or two hundred verses immediately after hearing them (Controv. 1.pref.2–3). He admits that matters of recent years have begun to elude him, but he recalls the events of his boyhood and young manhood as if he had just heard them (Controv. 1.pref.3–4), and proceeds to demonstrate this by his complete account.⁸⁷⁴ Age should not, therefore, be posed as an objection to Johannine authorship.

Most other objections are weaker. That Johns Galilean background would prevent the Gospel's Judean focus⁸⁷⁵ ignores the tradition that he spent years after the resurrection in Judea (Acts 1:13; 3:1–4:19; 8:14; 12:2; 15:2); by the time of the Gospels writing, John may have been away from Galilee for six decades!⁸⁷⁶ Some object that the beloved disciple appears primarily in Jerusalem, hence is probably a Jerusalemite.⁸⁷⁷ But does this disciple appear especially in Jerusalem, or especially in the Passion Narrative? The Gospel does not mention him when Jesus is in Jerusalem in chs. 2–3, 5, or 7–10; and when he does appear, he appears among Jesus» closest disciples. Does his lack of mention earlier imply that he was not among the disciples earlier? As noted above, Xenophon mentions his own presence only after he assumes a role of leadership in the retreating Greek army, but hardly appeared only then in the midst of Persia!

Other objections are no stronger. That Mark 10presumes the martyrdom of both sons of Zebedee has been used to argue against one of them being the beloved disciple (21:20–23).⁸⁷⁸ The argument appears reasonable, but is hardly conclusive (especially if they did not need to be martyred at the same time, as Acts 12suggests they were not). One could use the same datum to argue the reverse: the prophecy might not be ex eventu; thus the early Christians who knew that saying might have avoided attributing a Gospel to John in the 90s without good reason for doing so.⁸⁷⁹ Eller complains that, in view of the Synoptic tradition, John son of Zebedee could not have become a disciple as early as 1:35–42 (assuming this is the beloved disciple)–but explains away the same problem for Andrew, whom the text clearly identifies (1:40).⁸⁸⁰ That a «son of thunder» (Mark 3:17)⁸⁸¹ could not write a gospel of love (sixty years later) shows remarkable faith in the recalcitrance of human character, like denying that Paul the persecutor could become an apostle.⁸⁸² But if one doubts the possibility of such transformation, one may still ask whether readers of the gospel of love have noticed its fierce polemics as wel1. The objection that a Galilean fisherman would not have known the household of the high priest, against 18:15–16, is probably (though not definitely) correct; but the «other disciple» of 18:15–16 is not explicitly the beloved disciple (see comment ad loc.)⁸⁸³ The author does not name himself, but this is no more a problem for Johannine authorship than for any other author, especially if the audience knew the disciplés identity and John could use the title to typify ideal discipleship by means of the historical figure.

One could accept Johannine authorship on some level for the Fourth Gospel, yet believe that these traditions or the original document were thoroughly revised by others before the Gospel reached its present form. One problem with the suggestion of extensive redaction on the work of an eyewitness is that an extremely tidy editor (one who consistently preserved Johannine style throughout the Gospel) should have modified the apparent claim that the document's «author» was an eyewitness (on the author as an eyewitness, see above). One could regard this claim itself as redactional or deliberately distinguishing its claimant from the author, because it is stated in the third person (see in more detail discussion below). Third-person authorial claims appear in antiquity alongside first-person ones, however.⁸⁸⁴ Further, we lack concrete evidence for these statements being redactional (unless the hypothesis that they are redactional counts as evidence); certainly the «witness» motif (19:35) fits the rest of the Gospel, and other «beloved disciple» passages fit securely into their context (13:23; 20:2–8). Such objections have not, however, prevented the prevalence of redaction theories. Many scholars, in fact, are reticent to speak of the Gospel's «author,» believing that too many stages stand behind it.⁸⁸⁵

Whether or not they can be distinguished, stages of editing within the Gospel are surely possible (and could even stand behind a few textual variants); if we include the possibility of the author or his associates revising the Gospel, such stages may even be deemed probable. Some works were released by an author in substantially revised editions (see, e.g., Ovid Amoves pro1.1–4), or continually being reedited by the author (Dionysius of Halicarnassus Thucyd. 24).⁸⁸⁶ These examples, however, represent revisions by the same author at each stage. Various textual traditions of ancient documents (including John 7:53–8:11) demonstrate that editing after the author's death remained possible, though (as classicists can normally safely assume) in most cases of written works the final authorial product remained mostly stable. This seems especially true once a document became «canonical» for a particular community of disciples.

Nevertheless, on such an issue, various proposals must be evaluated for their probability, rather than on the premise that such editing is impossible, or on the premise that it necessarily took place. A few of these proposals are surveyed below, with special attention to a theory proposed by Raymond Brown, which has been especially influential in North American Johannine scholarship.

Of several redaction theories proposed in recent decades, probably the most influential reconstruction has been that of Raymond Brown, dominant in the 1980s. In The Community of the Beloved Disciple_y Raymond Brown proposes four main stages in the development of the Johannine community, each including phases in the development of the Johannine tradition. Although the book was written in a period when redaction critics» claims were sometimes too extravagant, Brown recognizes the limitations of his method.⁸⁸⁷

His stages of the community's development are, as he admits, hypothetical; but while they are historically plausible, his reconstruction is quite detailed and builds many hypotheses on other hypotheses, a method which seems historiographically questionable.⁸⁸⁸ In my opinion, its detail exceeds the «historical verisimilitude» at which even ancient historians (such as John) generally aimed. Although Brown warns of the dangers of circular reasoning and of reading too much into the period before the Gospel was completed, in the absence of popular alternatives some students have accepted his hypothetical reconstruction, based on just such details, as the decisive historical interpretation. That we have the completed Gospel but lack definite earlier stages of the tradition should make us heed more intently Brown's own cautions.

At the outset, Brown, more nuanced in his approach than many scholars whose reconstructions he challenges, observes that the Fourth Gospel's community was not a sect wholly removed from the rest of early Christianity (whether or not early Christianity itself is viewed as sectarian).⁸⁸⁹ Yet his emphasis on the differences between the Johannine community and apostolic Christianity would make this «mainstream» of early Christianity quite wide, perhaps wider than most early Christians would have deemed acceptable.

Brown proposes four phases of Gospel tradition, and the phases themselves are not historically implausible. The impact of the synagogues» response to the Johannine Christians must have shaped the polemic of the community, and many scholars agree that the secessionists in 1 John seem to be heading toward fully-developed docetism. But neither of these suggestions is original with Brown, and some of the details of his reconstruction, as well as the ingenious manner in which he develops them, are more questionable.

His first phase, similar to that proposed by some other scholars, envisions a situation in which the Johannine community consisted of Jews with a low Christology⁸⁹⁰ related to the teachings of the Twelve.⁸⁹¹ The situation is not inherently implausible, but it may be debated whether any traditions preserved in the Fourth Gospel address it. In John, the Christology of all true believers (this excludes those who remained in the ranks of Jesus» opponents) is higher than that of any believers described in the Synoptics. Brown himself does not contend that John disagreed radically with his sources; he points out that the terminology of this lower Christology appears in virtually every stratum of NT theology. His hypothesis is logical and explains some of the data, but other hypotheses could explain these features equally wel1. For instance, these terms of «lower» Christology could be included because they reinterpret messianic language from Judaism or other Christian sects with which the community had once been in dialogue; some terms were the heritage of early Christians in genera1.

Brown proposes that a second group with a higher Christology subsequently entered the Johannine community, but apparently distinguishes this group from the original group on the basis of the frequent assumption that high Christology is not a primitive feature. This premise, however, is open to serious challenge. Pauline or pre-Pauline material in 1Corinthians, Philippians, and Colossians describes Jesus in similar terms (see ch. 7 of our introduction), and Brown's reply that these traditions are lower in their Christology than John's⁸⁹² misses the point. Paul presents Jesus in terms of divine Wisdom, identifying him so thoroughly with Wisdom that his description exceeds even «mainstream» Judaism's most exalted depictions of Moses. John's Torah Christology in John 1:1–18 is likewise a Wisdom Christology. It may be true, as Brown contends, that Paul's Wisdom Christology is limited to hymns, whereas the Wisdom Christology of John's prologue spills over into his narrative; but since Paul's Wisdom Christology has no extant narrative into which to spill, the contrast is not quite fair. Many scholars ignore Paul when constructing their evolution of early Christian doctrine. Brown is too good a scholar to ignore him, but at this point has sidestepped him.

Further, some developments in the community he proposes would have rendered the final Gospel impenetrable to its intended audience; much of its tradition should have been redacted out. Although Brown rightly notes the background of John and focus of persecution, his argument that the feasts have lost their significance for the Johannine community makes little sense if we are to believe that the community understood the numerous pregnant allusions in the Gospel to the feasts. Much of the polemical significance of chs. 7–8 would be incomprehensible to Gentiles or to Jews who had no knowledge of, or concern for, their Jewish heritage, particularly two decades after the destruction of the Jerusalem temple. In other words, what Brown sees as continuity between two stages in the community's history may actually indicate that these two stages did not occur.

Most of the groups Brown proposes in Phase Two are indeed evident in the Gospel, although one could divide them differently. It is uncertain whether on the Johannine level the «Crypto-Christians»⁸⁹³ should be distinguished from the «Jewish Christians of inadequate faith,»⁸⁹⁴ and it is unlikely in either case that they are addressed as recipients of the letter. (Brown does not argue that they are part of the Johannine community.)⁸⁹⁵ The difference between the apostolic and Johannine churches⁸⁹⁶ builds on the prior argument that the Fourth Gospel's author was not John son of Zebedee. If this premise is questionable, so is his case for the distinction between Johannine and apostolic Christianity. He also assumes that the beloved disciple represents the Johannine community in conflict with other communities represented by characters in the Fourth Gospel, when in fact he might simply represent idealized discipleship, in contrast to the motif of failed discipleship already so prominent in Markan tradition.

His proposals on the third phase are addressed under «Gospel versus Epistles» below. There is much to commend Brown's reconstruction of the community's fourth phase. The secessionists and the Johannine communities both went their ways, one toward gnosticism (explaining early gnostics» use of the Fourth Gospel) and one toward the synthetic orthodoxy of the second century. But while this phase provides a sensible historical framework for data of the subsequent use of the Fourth Gospel, its relation to our current discussion of redactional stages within the traditions behind the Fourth Gospel itself is periphera1.

The weakest link in the theory is actually the textual basis proposed for it. Brown thinks that the lowest Christology appears in 1:35–51,⁸⁹⁷ but that chs. 2–4 introduce the higher Christology of the second phase.⁸⁹⁸ Yet one would expect the earlier tradition of the community to have been uniformly overlaid with, and thereby reinterpreted in light of, the purported higher Christology, rather than that the development of the community would have been portrayed in narrative form. Why should the writer have wished to record the history of the community in his history of Jesus? And why should it not continue to be recorded and developed consistently throughout the course of the Gospel? More to the point, the Christology of John 1 need hardly be viewed as low («King of Israel» can be read as a divine title). John 2–4 includes further revelation of Jesus to the disciples and others, and John 3:1–21 more to the readers, but this revelation continues progressively throughout the course of the Gospel, a progression which fits the story world without any necessary referent in the community's history.

Although elements of Browns historical reconstruction are convincing, where his theory addresses levels of tradition it has little hard evidence to commend it. It reflects the interests of redactional analysis when he was writing (i.e., for Browns academic community) and the lack of data on pre-Johannine traditions that the Fourth Gospel reveals to its most diligent interpreters. Although Brown's book might have produced healthy discussion and counter-theories, at some points it has had little competition because others have feared to venture so far into hypothetical reconstructions. Such fear is reasonable.

Although recognizing that Brown is a sober scholar, Emory's Luke Timothy Johnson notes that his redaction-critical approach to the Fourth Gospel in Community of the Beloved Disciple is «subject to even fewer controls» than in Matthean and Lukan criticism.

Now the reconstruction of a «community,» which is otherwise unlocatable either temporally or geographically, is treated through the analysis of four documents and the supposed stages of their composition. The problems inherent in such an attempt ought to be obvious. What guiding principles attend the discrimination between sources and stages? What reasons are there for arranging the pieces in the suggested sequence? What would happen if the order were changed? Once more, such exercises should be recognized as flights of fancy rather than sober historiography.⁸⁹⁹

That the author and his circle issued various editions of his Gospel is feasible, but as Burridge observes, «attempts to provide precise reconstructions of the various versions» are quite diverse precisely due to the unity of the extant Gospel and the speculativeness of the enterprise.⁹⁰⁰ The Gospel's unified style «argues against composite or multiple production theories,»⁹⁰¹ and Brown's redaction-critical work, for all its brilliance, is probably too speculative for today's soberer critical climate. Ancient biographies revealed some incidental matters about their implied audience, but they revealed far more about their primary subject, the protagonist about whom they wrote.⁹⁰² Herman Ridderbos suggests that it is better to accept the author's claim to be an eyewitness (19:35; verified in 21:24) than to replace it with a hypothesis of dependence on sources which are purely speculative and on which no two scholars can agree.⁹⁰³

The Fourth Gospel may emanate from a community founder who heavily influenced its writing, without this founder necessarily being «author» of everything in that Gospe1. One could propose this sort of «authorship» of the Qumran hymns by the Teacher of Righteousness,⁹⁰⁴ though the extent of his actual role in the compositions of the hymns remains speculative.⁹⁰⁵ Based on the final verses of John 21, which may indicate editorial comment, some scholars have proposed earlier editorial revisions by other disciples of the author. These disciples represent a Johannine «circle» or «schoo1.»⁹⁰⁶ Oscar Cullmann, a representative of this position, believes that the author is responsible for the bulk of the extant work, but that it was edited or completed after his death by a redactor or redactors under his influence. This view is more tenable than some scholars» proposals of severe, multiple redactions.⁹⁰⁷

One is again confronted with the question, however, whether it is a necessary interpretation of the evidence. Although variation is a characteristic feature of John's style,⁹⁰⁸ the work as a whole is a stylistic unity. Theological tensions are no greater than those found within any work. (Whatever else may be said for deconstruction, it has certainly demonstrated that such tensions exist in every work.) What appears to some to be visible editorial stitchwork (14:31; perhaps 1:1–18) could indicate reworking by the original author as easily as reworking by a community.⁹⁰⁹ While some editing by disciples is possible, there is little evidence in the text itself for such editing on a large scale.

But it is likely that the author had some help in writing the Gospel; well-to-do people used scribes because they could afford them, and the illiterate used scribes because they needed them. The use of amanuenses was standard enough to suppose that John must have had some assistance in writing, and perhaps even in editing his long-developed oral accounts. That the disciple «wrote these things» (21:24) can mean «caused them to be written» (19:19), and the Muratorian Canon claims that others encouraged John to write his recollections and assisted him in doing so.⁹¹⁰ Cullmann's general position has been developed in far more nuanced fashion, with attention to relevant parallels in ancient society, by those who propose a Johannine «schoo1.»

Scholars have suggested that the Johannine literature owes its present shape to a Johannine «schoo1.»⁹¹¹ In support of this, proponents have pointed out the similarities and differences among the Johannine writings, patristic references to John and his «disciples,» and John's use of the OT on the analogy of Matthew's «schoo1.»⁹¹² This theory has been especially capably defended by R. Alan Culpepper, who has added a fourth, comparative approach, which would allow composite Johannine authorship on the analogy of collections of writings from ancient philosophical schools.⁹¹³ Unlike more speculative proposals, Culpepper s view involves only a modest level of redaction, some or all references to the beloved disciple being added later to the beloved disciplés work.⁹¹⁴

There is ample evidence for philosophical schools,⁹¹⁵ some of which adopted a «sectarian» mentality. Rabbinic schools similarly came to be common,⁹¹⁶ and undoubtedly had pre-70 roots in the training of schoolteachers and lawyers.⁹¹⁷ The first-century «houses» of Hillel and Shammai are probably best understood in these terms.⁹¹⁸ Greek students also learned to imitate the style of famous authors,⁹¹⁹ not least of which might have been that of the founder of their own schoo1.

But this theory, while shown possible and explained by Culpepper's discussion, remains at most possible; the evidence has not demonstrated its certainty. If internal evidence requires multiple authors, this is the likeliest position (and the one I would rank second in likelihood to the traditional position). In my opinion, however, the differences among the Gospel and three epistles are not serious enough to support the case for different authors. The different genres and situations involved are sufficient to explain the differences (see discussion below). While this would not rule out composite authorship, neither is it sufficient to support it. Despite conscious attempts to imitate a master's style, pseudonymous works in ancient corpora are generally more stylistically distinct from the genuine works than are the Johannine Gospel and Epistles from one another (see discussion below on the authorship of the Epistles). The patristic evidence for John's «disciples» could suggest something of a Johannine «school,» but need not in itself suggest that our Johannine literature is composite in any sense. Finally, even if Matthew's use of Scripture reflects a community (which could still be debated), John's need not do so; and even if John's does, identifying sources for his tradition need not challenge a single redactor or author for the whole work.

Carson suggests three flaws in Culpepper's argument. First, the characteristics of «schools» identified in Johannine tradition could also fit a church. Second, parallels between the beloved disciple and the Paraclete do not make them equivalent. Finally, Culpepper's argument assumes what is to be proved; could not the Johannine literature testify to the personality of the author, rather than to that of a Johannine «community» as a whole?⁹²⁰ In short, if one holds to the community authorship of the Fourth Gospel, Culpepper's work provides its best defense and explanation. Its case does not, however, appear designed to prove community authorship to those who, on other grounds, find it a thesis less plausible than that of a single main author.

Besides standard views of «schools,» one may compare the Jewish view of a succession of prophets,⁹²¹ which probably also implies master-disciple relationships⁹²² (see below in our discussion of the Paraclete in John 14:16).⁹²³ Although it is unlikely that schools of the sages originated in this model as opposed to the Hellenistic model⁹²⁴ (Jewish wisdom had been transcultural from the start), the analogy was evident enough to the rabbis who read their own practices into the OT prophets. It is thus not surprising that some scholars have suggested a prophetic context for the origin of the Johannine literature. The relation between the Fourth Gospel and claims to prophetic inspiration will be treated below (pp. 115–22).

Confirming the identity of the beloved disciple would not automatically settle the question of the book's authorship, because many scholars doubt that the beloved disciple is the actual author of the book. On the basis of 19:35, Culpepper distinguishes the beloved disciple from the narrator.⁹²⁵ Certainly we do have some ancient accounts, such as Apuleius's account in his Metamorphosis of Lucius's spiritual journey, that allow a distinction between author and narrator (though these are not characteristic of histories or biographies).⁹²⁶ Nevertheless, one wonders whether this text's third person bears the entire weight Culpepper assigns to it. It could represent a scribal aside (as in Rom 16:22), but even more naturally fits the third-person characterization of the beloved disciple throughout as a character in the story. As mentioned already, however, third-person authorial claims appear in antiquity as well as first-person ones.⁹²⁷ The distinction is possible but not necessary.

Accepting this distinction, Culpepper then suggests, on the basis of 21:24, that the narrator «characterizes the implied author as the Beloved Disciple.»⁹²⁸ (Some others reject the evidence of 21as possibly the inaccurate view of a later redactor, but this is unlikely; see our comments on ch. 21.)⁹²⁹ Culpepper's distinction here accords well with his earlier conclusions concerning different documents composed by the Johannine «schoo1.»⁹³⁰ The distinction between an actual author and an implied author is also reasonable; in the ancient world, one could say that someone «authored» a work even if one meant only that it contained his words, possibly in expanded form.⁹³¹ Yet if the narrator wished to characterize the implied author as the beloved disciple (which is reasonable), why would he allow himself to be so easily distinguished from him in 19:35, as Culpepper maintains? And could not the narrator just as easily characterize the implied author in these terms because he was in fact this author?

On a closer examination of 19:35, it is not clear that the beloved disciple and narrator are distinct. If the eyewitness (presumably the beloved disciple who was present, 19:26) «knows» (present tense) that his witness is true, and provides it that the reader may believe (19:35; 20), the eyewitness appears to be speaking in the text. These are not the words of a posthumous editor, as some have proposed, nor is the narrator here revealing his hand by distinguishing himself from the beloved disciple. He wishes his readers to continue to identify the two, yet if he belongs to the Johannine community to whom he writes, his readers presumably know who he is. Ancient readers who did not have reasons external to the Gospel to believe otherwise would have read the book as claiming to be from the beloved disciple, and would have known that the author realized that his book would be read in this way.

We disagree with Culpepper's argument, but acknowledge it as brilliant. Other objections against the beloved disciple being the author, such as the claim that no Christian would call himself or herself «beloved» by Jesus, do not rate so highly. Early Christians do not seem to have viewed Jesus» love as merited (3:16; though cf. 14:23), and various texts celebrate Christians» experience of divine love (Gal 2:20; Eph 3:14–21).⁹³² The designation probably refers to a special role of this disciple, but it need not imply an arbitrary favorite (see comment on 13:23).

Most scholars agree that the Gospel depends on several layers of tradition and reworking of sources or earlier drafts. The problem is separating these drafts from the narrative as it now stands. The abundance of barely related source theories suggests the difficulty of the undertaking, even when theories are based on such potentially tangible clues as the presence of Aramaisms.⁹³³ As one scholar has pointed out,

… the gospel has certainly undergone some degree of editing, but the work of the redactor cannot be shown to have different aims and presuppositions from those of the evangelist himself. These are expressed in the final verses of ch. 20, which are frequently cited to indicate the purpose of the gospel as a whole. At this point it certainly looks as if redactor and evangelist are at one. And the conclusion is not impossible that they are, in fact, one and the same person.⁹³⁴

While some other redaction theories are debated, the view that the epilogue (John 21) was a later addition has become almost standard in scholarly orthodoxy. The usual evidence adduced for this position is questionable, however: the chapter may be «anti-climactic,» but so is the final book of the Iliad, the most widely read work of Greco-Roman antiquity.⁹³⁵ Further, once subject matter is taken into account, the vocabulary is thoroughly Johannine.⁹³⁶

Brown's contrast between John 21 and the rest of the Gospel based on their «different» portrayals of Peter⁹³⁷ is not convincing, either. Peter's pastoral role is hinted at elsewhere (1:42; 6:69) and connected verbally with ch. 21 (13:36). The beloved disciple compares favorably with Peter in John 21 as much as in the rest of John, but Peter is not portrayed particularly negatively in either. Peter comes off far worse in Mark, and Brown is therefore consistent in suggesting that Mark was not written by a disciple of Peter because it plays him down.⁹³⁸ This being the case, however, Brown would be more consistent to argue further that very little of the Gospel tradition represents «apostolic» Christianity. On this view one would have to claim that, like Paul (Ga1. 2), neither of the sources of Markan and Johannine tradition got along particularly well with Peter and his allies. Such a hypothesis would find more hostility to Peter in the NT than the texts themselves warrant. Our extant NT somehow retained the centrality of the Twelve as Jesus» historical followers. This is not to deny that the beloved disciple and Paul both contrast themselves favorably with Peter; it is to deny that this places them on the fringe of apostolic Christianity (see comment on 13:23).

The structure of the Fourth Gospel is more difficult to determine than that of a more topically arranged book such as Matthew; themes seem to be developed and expanded in almost spiral fashion throughout the book, as has also been suggested for 1 John. The structure may be chronological, insofar as possible, like those of many Greco-Roman biographies;⁹³⁹ the book is full of chronological indicators of disputed significance (the «days» of ch. 1, «after this» in 2:12, etc.) As in the Gospel of Mark, the development of controversy and attendant suspense is critical to the plot.⁹⁴⁰ The bulk of the Gospel's body is also built around the feasts in Jerusalem.⁹⁴¹

Nevertheless, on the stylistic level, the Fourth Gospel is a unity.⁹⁴² Scholars have often pointed to clear disjunctions in the narrative as a sign of disunity, but disjunction seems simply to represent a common stylistic characteristic of the evangelist. This may not be the practice with which we are familiar from the Synoptic Gospels, but it was hardly unique to John. While some rhetoricians like Lucian and Quintilian recommended linking episodes together (cf., e.g., Mark 1:16–39, 5:21–43), Polybius felt that his disconnected narratives were better, providing variety.⁹⁴³

Sudden shifts in the narrative seem to be part of Johannine style, but even these shifts are not unconnected with their context. For instance, the major geographical break in ch. 6 does not obscure the theological progression from the prophet to whom Moses bore witness (5:45–47) to the gift of new manna (6:32–58). Since the references to motifs which recur throughout the book are in each case integral to the context in which they occur, the impression of thoughtful planning in the book is further reinforced.⁹⁴⁴ And since historical works were typically based on an initial draft rehearsing in chronological order (when possible) the events to be covered (hypomnēma), such planning and reediting by the same author should be expected.⁹⁴⁵ Even stylistic or vocabulary changes from one section to the next–changes which in John are at most minor–need not indicate distinct sources. Arrian need not be quoting Epictetus more accurately in some sections of his Discourses than in others, although some phrases (e.g., τί σοί καί ήμίν) predominate in particular sections; other phrases are more evenly distributed throughout. Both Epictetus and Arrian probably had some words and phrases fresher on their minds at specific times, just as writers do today. Robinson is certainly right to observe:

On purely stylistic grounds I believe this Gospel must be judged to be a literary unity. Whatever the slight variations from the average in word-count in certain passages, I accept the view that the whole is the work of a single hand, including the prologue and the epilogue. The attempt to isolate sources on literary grounds cannot be said to have succeeded. «It looks as though,» to quote Professor Pierson Parker, «if the author of the Fourth Gospel used documentary sources, he wrote them all himself.»⁹⁴⁶

Berg, who finally concludes that different hands wrote different pieces of the Farewell Discourses, nevertheless concurs that those examining any text should start with the unity of their text as a working premise, altering this position only in light of clear evidence to the contrary.⁹⁴⁷ Unpersuaded that the Fourth Gospel provides clear evidence of its sources, this commentary will proceed on the assumption of its unity in its present form.

Scholars commonly concur at least that the beloved disciple is the reliable source of much of the tradition recorded in the Fourth Gospe1.⁹⁴⁸ Beyond this, however, scholars dispute to what degree the finished Gospel reflects this reliable tradition.

It is somewhat surprising, then, to discover the degree to which internal and external evidence appear to favor John son of Zebedee as the Fourth Gospels author. Although he undoubtedly used a scribe or scribes, probably members of his own circle of disciples, who may have exercised some liberty, one may therefore attribute the Gospel as a whole to an eyewitness. The eyewitness has clearly taken liberties in the telling of the story, probably developed over years of sermonic use; but a strong case can be made for Johannine authorship and therefore that the Gospel contains substantial reminiscences, as well as theological interpretations, of Jesus. If, because of the Gospels slow acceptance in «orthodox» circles, we attribute it to a Johannine school rather than to the apostle himself (my second choice), we may still argue that the oral tradition the work incorporates depends on John's own witness.

This question of authorship raises two related questions. The first is the question of a claim to inspiration, as Johns contemporaries employed the concept. Granted that the Gospel implies human authorship, does it also imply a claim to divine authorship? For John's audience, the latter claim might appear more significant. A claim to divine authorship is not, strictly speaking, empirically verifiable; what we investigate here is whether the Gospel, like many other ancient religious works, makes such a claim.

Second, we must investigate whether the Johannine Epistles and Revelation might derive from the same author or (more commonly accepted) circle. The answer to this question may affect the extent to which these documents (generally agreed to derive from the same community, especially the Epistles) may be employed in the interpretation of the Fourth Gospel (including the reconstruction of its provenance and milieu). It is also important to the question of authorship because, in contrast to the Fourth Gospel, Revelation explicitly claims authorship by one «John» (Rev 1:1). Yet the differences between the two books have suggested to most contemporary scholars that they derive from different authors.

Whereas the questions of genre and authorship are related when one investigates the degree of historical accuracy to be supposed for the Fourth Gospel, the question of ancient claims for inspiration is a separate issue. Despite the testimony of the beloved disciple, the identity of the human author may be a concern less intrinsic to the Gospel than its implicit claim to a sort of divine authorship or, more accurately, inspiration by the Paraclete. Inspiration is a category with which modern readers are far less equipped to deal than ancient readers were; the concept of inspiration was widely understood and articulated in antiquity, whether with regard to inspiration of Greek or Roman poetry by the Muses or Apollo,⁹⁴⁹ oracles by Apollo and other deities,⁹⁵⁰ Egyptian sacred writings authored by Thoth,⁹⁵¹ or the OT Scriptures by the Spirit of YHWH in ancient Judaism.⁹⁵² Poets regularly invoke the Muses, often to provide an omniscient perspective.⁹⁵³ Some believed that inspired narrative (Homer in Philostratus Hrk. 25.4, 8) could include a measure of bias and error (24.1–2; 25.10–17);⁹⁵⁴ but even those who allowed for this also respected those so inspired (25.2–9)–and some information was thought inaccessible without such inspiration. Thus one epic poet recounts the tale of a father and son who died (Silius Italicus 9.66–177), yet most of the tale has no surviving witness to report it; the writer prays for inspiration to recount such events (9.340–345). Naturally the rules were different for biographers and historians, but even nonpoetic historians dependent on sources could also invoke divine help in writing (Livy 1, pref.13), and they recognized nonpoetic essays whose accuracy reflected prophetic inspiration (Polybius 29.21.7, 9). Some ancients also expected inspiration to produce rhetorical eloquence (Dionysius of Halicarnassus Thucyd. 34)–a standard that changed from one period of rhetoric to another (but, in the view of most rhetoricians before and during the Second Sophistic, would probably not have applied to this Gospel).⁹⁵⁵

Many scholars, such as Marinus de Jonge, have contended that the Fourth Gospel argues for its own inspiration: «The Fourth Gospel presents itself as the result of the teaching and the recalling activity of the Spirit within the community of disciples leading to a deeper and fuller insight into all that Jesus as the Son revealed during his stay on earth.»⁹⁵⁶ Müller similarly suggests that John felt that Jesus» word continued to work in his Gospel,⁹⁵⁷ and Dietzfelbinger, that it claims to be inspired by the Paraclete.⁹⁵⁸ Some have gone so far as to identify the author and the Paraclete (see below), but even if this position goes beyond the evidence, the close association of functions indicates that the author felt that the Paraclete was inspiring his writing.

While a claim to inspiration does not constitute proof of inspiration, or even proof that inspiration by deity, deities, or spirits exists, it is only the claim which presents itself for examination in the epistemological framework within which historical-critical study of the Bible has been conducted in the past two centuries, and it is thus the claim we examine here. The Fourth Gospel claims its inspiration by indicating that its implied author was an agent of the inspiring Spirit who enabled believers to know and articulate Jesus.⁹⁵⁹ If 1 John assumes or interprets the Jesus tradition in this Gospel, then the Gospel was functioning as scripture in Johannine circles at an early stage.⁹⁶⁰ That the Gospel was intended to function in this way is a possibility that should be investigated. After all, other Jewish groups were producing books which they viewed as authoritative for their communities, some implying continuity with biblical history.⁹⁶¹

The inspiring Spirit was generally associated with prophecy in early Judaism, although other associations were also attached to the Spirit in many circles, particularly the Qumran community.⁹⁶² The Fourth Gospel also merges different aspects of the Spirit's work; the stretch of narrative sometimes called the «Signs Gospel» associates the Spirit with purification, but Jesus» final discourse in chs. 14–16 associates the Spirit with inspiration and instruction. Against some scholars, this difference does not necessitate a separate source for these two sections;⁹⁶³ these aspects of the Spirit's work had already coalesced in some segments of early Judaism, as the Dead Sea Scrolls attest. The climax of John's presentation of both aspects is fulfilled by the same inception of the Spirit in 20:21–23; the Spirit is imparted as a breath of life, as in 3:3–8, and the Spirit also enables the disciples to fulfill their mission as Jesus» representatives, as in 15:26–27. But the inspiration aspect of the Spirit imparted to Jesus» followers is significant to the composition of the Fourth Gospel, for if it does not purport to be a recollection and proclamation of Jesus (cf. 14:26), what does it purport to be?

John's voice is in some sense linked with that of the Paraclete. Such a connection is not surprising; both classical studies and ethnographic research «on oral poetic performance traditions» shows that the voice of a poet «becomes traditionally identified with the Voices» of the heroes quoted by the poetic performance.»⁹⁶⁴ This provides context for the narrativés reliable characters sharing the same voice as the narrator in this Gospel and for the liberties characteristic of poetic retellers he takes.⁹⁶⁵

Although there are close connections between the implied author and the inspiring Paraclete, some scholars have overplayed the connection. Kragerund essentially identifies the «beloved disciple» with the Paraclete, and so argues that this disciple represents for John the charismatic ministry of the Johannine church in opposition to the more institutional, Petrine churches.⁹⁶⁶ But the parallelism between this disciple and the Spirit indicates a parallel mission, not that the disciple represents the Paraclete himself.⁹⁶⁷ The Spirit inspires the community, whose ideal representative this disciple is. Further, the Gospel's polemic is hardly against the rest of Christianity; by John's definition of discipleship, it is unlikely that he would have regarded other true Christians (and Peter is a true Christian; see above) as deficient in the Spirit.⁹⁶⁸ Instead, the polemic is against the Jewish authorities who oppose the Christians, and therefore oppose the Spirit who inspires their proclamation of Jesus.

Even if the beloved disciplés functions are equivalent to those of the Paraclete,⁹⁶⁹ most scholars recognize that it goes too far to suggest that the author actually embodies the Paraclete (as Sasse⁹⁷⁰ did as early as 1925).⁹⁷¹ Wilckens is closer to the truth when he recognizes the distinction between the beloved disciple and the Paraclete, but sees the former as a representative of the community and parallel to the Paraclete: «Der Paraklet und der «Lieblingsjünger» sind also nicht identisch, wohl aber aufeinander bezogen. Der »Lieblingsjünger» repräsentiert die Gemeinde, die der Paraklet neu begründet; und der Paraklet gibt und bewahrt der nachösterlichen Kirche ihr Bild im vorösterlichen «Lieblingsjünger.»»⁹⁷² The parallel mission of the Paraclete and the community (14, 15–16), of which the beloved disciple is the ideal model, does suggest a prophetic role for the disciple.⁹⁷³ The Paraclete guarantees the disciplés traditioning as an inspired transmitter.⁹⁷⁴

I have elsewhere expressed my skepticism toward the view, more widely held in the past than today, that much of the Synoptic tradition owes its origin to the creativity of Christian prophets.⁹⁷⁵ Given the divergent character of the Johannine discourses, however, skepticism toward that proposal for the Synoptics need not lead to similar skepticism concerning prophetic involvement in the Johannine sayings materia1. Thus, for example, E. P. Sanders suspects that such sayings came into the Synoptics only occasionally, but thinks that the whole Fourth Gospel reflects this practice.⁹⁷⁶

It is more likely than not that schools of prophets resembling those of ancient Israel existed in early Christianity. Whereas skilled, mature prophets supervised the inspiration of less experienced members of their guilds in the OT, first-generation Christians probably did not have an abundance of mature prophetic figures who could train others in local congregations throughout the empire (Agabus in Acts was probably exceptional). Thus in 1Cor 14, Christians inspired by the Spirit to prophesy were to evaluate one another (14:29); different members of the prophetic community were to provide checks on one another's inspiration (a device that sometimes failed in the OT, e.g., Jer 23:30). But by the end of the first century, it is reasonable to guess that prophetic as well as scribal schools may have existed in early Christianity. The book of Revelation would be adequate by itself to indicate the continuing charismatic activity among Johannine Christians. Aune points to a circle around the prophetess nicknamed Jezebel and suggests that it was a prophetic school in error; this would in turn suggest other, more «orthodox» prophetic schools in Asia.⁹⁷⁷ John appears to be a prophet with special authority⁹⁷⁸ (in our view, because he was an apostle).

Some have suggested that the errorists in 1 John were composing new Jesus sayings as prophecies which they imposed on the historical Jesus.⁹⁷⁹ This might fit the evidence we find in the later gnostic sayings-gospels; errorists such as those described in 1 John ultimately felt as comfortable with new revelations from Jesus as with those grounded in the historical tradition. Some scholars, however, have suggested that this process began before the protognostic secessionists of 1 John. Some trace it to the Fourth Gospel itself, suggesting that substantial portions of the Johannine discourses were composed prophetically rather than from tradition or memory. Thus Scott affirms that the writer thoroughly altered his traditions in the confidence that the Spirit was inspiring him to do so;⁹⁸⁰ Smith suggests that «spirit-inspired prophecy may well have provided the specific occasion for the emergence of Johannine Christian affirmation in the form of words of Jesus.»⁹⁸¹ Aune thinks that the discourses were reformulated by prophets in the context of the community's charismatic worship.⁹⁸² Boring argues that the Johannine discourses are «the result of a long process of development in the preaching of the Johannine community, a process in which Christian prophets were active.»⁹⁸³

If taken to imply that John incorporates earlier prophecies or does not root his story and sayings in the Jesus tradition, such a position is untenable. First of all, the Gospel itself is not a sayings-gospel, nor is it gnostic, despite its use by gnostics (probably descended from the errorists of 1 John). Later gnostic practice provides a questionable parallel to the composition of Johannine narrative and discourse.⁹⁸⁴ Second, as Hill notes, there is actually «no certain evidence that [the discourses] emanated from a Christian prophet.»⁹⁸⁵ Despite the presence of historical Jesus logia in the prophecies in Rev 2–3, the genres of prophecy and gospel remain discrete.⁹⁸⁶ Although the Johannine author's «heard» and «saw» in Revelation should be interpreted as prophetic revelation because of the book's genre, the eyewitness testimony to Jesus in the Gospel belongs to a different genre and hardly fits such an interpretation.⁹⁸⁷ If a parallel from modern charismatic prophecy may be admitted, Jesus logia and other biblical phraseology are common in prophecy, but few charismatics would think of importing their prophecies into the historical Jesus tradition. The Jesus tradition provides material for prophecy, but it is a logical fallacy to assume that the reverse must be true. This is true even in most charismatic traditions least anchored to the authority of the church's traditional canon. Indeed, at least some ancients who claimed that a sayings tradition was inspired viewed that inspiration as stemming, from the very start, from a divine teacher (Iamblichus V.P. 31.213), although they might also accept early subsequent exposition as sharing this divine character ( V.P. 29.157).

Third, the Paraclete serves to bring to remembrance the sayings of Jesus (John 14:26). Although this undoubtedly includes interpretation, it grounds the Paracletés revelation of Jesus in what he said and did in real history.⁹⁸⁸ Thus 1 John calls its readers back to what was «in the beginning,» the Jesus who had «come in the flesh» (4:2).⁹⁸⁹ In contrast to the protognostic opponents in 1 John whose prophecies were not rooted in the historical Jesus (4:2), the Gospels author chose the genre of historical narrative (not a mere sayings-gospel) to convey his theology because he located its basis in, and measured its substance by, the historical Jesus.

Finally, the discourses of the Fourth Gospel do not present themselves as prophecies. Both written and oral oracle collections were known and circulated in antiquity,⁹⁹⁰ and were often full literary units.⁹⁹¹ The traveling prophets who expounded these oracles based their authority on the earlier oracles, not on their own inspiration.⁹⁹² But the discourses of the Fourth Gospel, including their narrative context and responses to often hostile interlocutors, fit together with the whole Gospel far too well to represent a collection of distinct oracles. This is not to deny that the author could have reshaped existing prophecies into an unrecognizable form; ancient oracles were apparently generally reworked into more literary forms.⁹⁹³ But to assert that the prophecies are now unrecognizable is to concede that we have no evidence for them. Whereas we have some evidence for historical tradition behind the Fourth Gospel (where it incidentally agrees with the Synoptics despite probable reliance on independent tradition), we have no plain evidence for the incorporation of prophetic materials. If any oracles lie behind the text of this Gospel, they are as unrecoverable as Johns historical traditions, which cannot be verified by comparison with the Synoptics; John s editing is too tight to betray the nature of his sources.

But while these arguments oppose dependence on earlier oracles and composition without recourse to the tradition, they do not challenge the arguments for claims to inspiration. That John composed the discourses without historical basis is unlikely; that he interpreted Jesus» teachings to apply them to a new situation, the way a preacher might today, is by contrast quite likely. As a pesher interpreter of OT prophecies might expound and reapply the language of Scripture to his own day in the Qumran community, John may recollect, interpret, and apply the life and teachings of Jesus for his own audience.

In the same way, that John incorporates earlier oracles is not likely; that he believes all his interpretive activity to be inspired by the Paraclete who is in continuity with the character of the historical Jesus he himself knew, is by contrast quite likely. Like Qumran interpreters, John undoubtedly believes that he is guided by the Spirit of wisdom who leads the community in God's truth (cf. 16:13–15). As John applies Jesus» person and teachings to the situations with which his readers grapple, he probably believes himself guided by the same Spirit that Judaism trusted had inspired the OT prophet-historians. After all, he believed that all who proclaimed Jesus were to speak from such inspiration (14:26, 15:26, 16:13–14).

The Gospel as a whole may claim inspiration. Although one would expect prophecy to apply only to Jesus» sayings, inspiration in a more general sense could be applied to narratives as wel1.⁹⁹⁴ Thus, for instance, some scholars suggest that Josephus viewed himself as a prophetic historian on the analogy with the inspired prophets who wrote biblical history.⁹⁹⁵ And, just as prayers could be written as well as spoken,⁹⁹⁶ one could claim prophetic inspiration for a literary composition without dependence on any prior oral compositions.⁹⁹⁷ After analyzing Josephus as interpretive prophetic history and Jubilees as inspired prophetic history,⁹⁹⁸ R. G. Hall concludes that John best fits the mold of interpretive prophetic history: John interprets historical events on the basis of revelation.⁹⁹⁹

John's activity as an omniscient narrator who has special insight into the thoughts and deeds of his characters,¹⁰⁰⁰ and who frequently informs his readers by narrative asides,¹⁰⁰¹ need not be viewed as particularly prophetic. Omniscient narrators are common features of Hellenistic¹⁰⁰² (including Hellenistic Jewish)¹⁰⁰³ literature. The Iliad at one point recounts what one Thracian was dreaming before he was slain in his sleep (Horn Il. 10.496–497)!¹⁰⁰⁴ Ancient biographers like Plutarch regularly supplemented their narrative with authorial asides.¹⁰⁰⁵ But it may have been significant from the Jewish standpoint that one could claim special insight or revelation for the inclusion of such details (2 Kgs 6:12);¹⁰⁰⁶ Greeks also believed that the Muses could provide information to an omniscient narrator whose information was otherwise lacking (e.g., Homer II. 2.484–492; 11.218; Od. 1.1).¹⁰⁰⁷

The inspiration in John is not clearly ecstatic,¹⁰⁰⁸ despite the Montanists» later use of this Gospel to validate their own activity.¹⁰⁰⁹ Much like the Dead Sea Scrolls, where inspiration includes revelation gleaned in study of the Scriptures, inspiration in the Johannine community seems to have included exposition of the Johannine Jesus tradition; indeed, some have proposed that the Spirit in John «is bound exclusively to and dependent on the Word of Jesus.»¹⁰¹⁰ In the Johannine community as in the Qumran community, teachers could claim «prophetic» inspiration just as prophets did.¹⁰¹¹ Thus Hill can question whether the author of the Fourth Gospel was even a prophet in the narrow sense of the term.¹⁰¹² But the Spirits inspiration for teaching is linked with prophetic proclamation in the later Paraclete sayings. As in the Scrolls, fine lines between different aspects of the Spirit's work are sometimes difficult to draw.

Many scholars have acknowledged the prophetic or inspired character of the Johannine literature. Sometimes they have argued this through the old grid of charismatic, itinerant ministry as opposed to local, institutional ministry;¹⁰¹³ but, as we shall suggest below, the only implied conflict of authority between the Johannine community and its opposition seems to be that between John's Jewish-Christian allies and the synagogues. The schismatics who seceded from the Johannine movement seem to have been as charismatic as the Johannine Christians who stayed behind; 1 John simply appeals to the Jewish doctrine of the two spirits to indicate that their inspiration is from the wrong kind of spirit (1 John 4:1–6).

The concept of the Gospel's inspiration is not a corollary of the later process of canonization in early Christianity. The writer and first readers of the Fourth Gospel undoubtedly assumed its inspiration, and thus ceded the document authority because they affirmed that Jesus stood behind and spoke in the document.¹⁰¹⁴

If the authorship of the Fourth Gospel has been controversial, so has been the authorship of the other traditional Johannine literature. Today many scholars helpfully treat Johannine literature as a coherent corpus suitable for narrative-critical analysis.¹⁰¹⁵ This approach is not, however, universal, and even if we accept the cohesiveness of the corpus, the nature of its unity remains open to question. Many scholars believe that the Gospel and Epistles were written by different authors, and the vast majority of scholars believes that the Gospel and Revelation were written by different authors. Although some further distinguish the author of 1 John from the author of 2 and 3 John (tempting us to ask why a member of the Johannine school would write pseudonymous tracts of such brevity, although the polemic of 3 John might be excused),¹⁰¹⁶ we will here examine only the proposed distinctions between the Gospel and Epistles as a whole (especially 1 John) and between the Gospel and Revelation. Such a discussion is necessary if we are to draw from insights in the Johannine Epistles and Revelation to inform our understanding of the Fourth Gospel, whether in arguing that they share a common author or that (fully demonstrable at least for the Epistles) that they share a common community and general perspective.

Until the twentieth century, the common authorship of John and 1 John was not questioned; in current scholarship, it is often rejected and can no longer be assumed without argument. Today the state of scholarship is far from unanimous, and a variety of opinions exists; if the authors were different, the Epistles drew on the Gospel,¹⁰¹⁷ the Gospel drew on 1 John (less likely),¹⁰¹⁸ the writer of 1 John was the beloved disciple on whose testimony the Gospel is based,¹⁰¹⁹ or the writer of 1 John was the redactor of the Fourth Gospe1.¹⁰²⁰ Despite the lack of consensus on authorship, however, no serious challenge has been mounted against the documents deriving from the same community or school; they have too much in common for that.

Brown interprets 1 John and the secessionists against which it polemicizes as heirs of divergent interpretive traditions of the Gospe1.¹⁰²¹ This thesis is reasonable, perhaps even probable, but 1 John seems to be far more in harmony with the overall thrust of the Gospel than the secessionists» counter-reading is. That the secessionists may have appealed to elements they could interpret in support of their position should not be construed as proof that the context of the Fourth Gospel supports such an interpretation. Although Brown rightly critiques Käsemann's view of a naive docetism in the Fourth Gospel, his own proposal that some elements in the Gospel lessen the salvific import of Jesus» public ministry¹⁰²² goes beyond the evidence as wel1. Whereas the Synoptics reserve Jesus» glory for his transfiguration, resurrection, and Parousia, his glory is revealed in John in his earthly ministry (2:11) and his death (12:23–33). 1 John could rightly find in the Fourth Gospel that Jesus» death is not only revelation, but also salvation, as Brown also notes.¹⁰²³

Brown may be right that 1 John qualifies the Fourth Gospel, often by simply developing themes present (albeit sometimes implicitly) in the Gospe1. Sometimes this «development» is less than obvious; 1 John is a short document, and one cannot expect it to give equal weight to all the Gospel's themes. Thus, for example, the suggestion that 1 John qualifies the Gospel in the direction of future eschatology¹⁰²⁴ reads too much into the brief amount of evidence we have; the Gospel contains some future eschatology (e.g., 5:28–29; 6:54), and it is not particularly prominent in 1 John (though in that brief letter it has little competition). 1 John may indeed reject hierarchical authority,¹⁰²⁵ but this need not involve rejecting the authority inherent in the apostolic witness (1 John 4:6). But even where 1 John may qualify the Gospel's teaching because it confronts a different reading of that teaching,¹⁰²⁶ this does not constitute an argument for different authors. The same author can modify his or her own work on further reflection¹⁰²⁷ or, as would fit the evidence better in this case, qualify it when it has been misunderstood.

Some who argue against common authorship note that some key Gospel words (such as Scripture, glory, seek, judge, lord, law) are missing from 1 John, and terms in 1 John (such as antichrist, hope, sacrifice, fellowship, and anointing) are missing from the Gospe1.¹⁰²⁸ Terms that do appear, such as «Paraclete,» can function differently, with Jesus as the Paraclete only in the Epistle¹⁰²⁹ (this objection ignores άλλον in John 14:16). But given the size of 1 John (105 verses) and its different focus and setting from (and probably narrower audience than) the Gospel, what is remarkable is the great similarity of vocabulary. The distinctions made between the Gospel and 1 John are the sort that would force us to distinguish Romans and Galatians on the one hand from 1Corinthians on the other, not only topically but stylistically. 1Corinthians, for example, employs abrupt imaginary interlocutors, whereas Romans introduces its interlocutors. Romans includes little Stoic language after 2:14–15, but 1Corinthians contains much. For that matter, Paul's argument is more positive toward the law in Romans than in Galatians, and the rhetoric of blame in the latter (virtually absent in the former) occasionally affects its grammar. It is possible that the writer of 1 John consciously imitates the style of John; but none of the evidence generally presented requires the conclusion of distinct authors.

The evidence for different authorships thus proves far less compelling than some modern scholars have contended. Basic rhetorical exercises of the day included practice in writing in different genres.¹⁰³⁰ The suggestion that a given author was morally bound to employ only one genre, or to apply the rhetorical rules of one genre to all other genres, cannot be entertained, even though the author was probably not highly trained in Greek rhetorical conventions. Whereas composing a literary letter might require some forethought, it required far less than a gospel (and a nonliterary letter required even less), for a gospel as a biographical narrative would normally entail a rough draft based on notes before the final copy (see ch. 1, above). The different nature of production for a gospel and an epistle will inevitably leave differences in the documents.¹⁰³¹

The minor stylistic variations on which different authorship is posited for the Gospel and the Epistles thus appear to us inadequate to imply different authorship. Stylistically, the Gospel and the Epistles have far more in common than not.¹⁰³² Some elements of style, such as the use of conjunctions and asyndeton, sharply distinguish the Johannine literature from other early Christian texts. In the Fourth Gospel, only the major interpolation (7:53–8:11) diverges from this stylistic pattern.¹⁰³³ While it is true that writers practiced imitation of respected teachers» style, documents purporting to derive from the same author which reflect the same basic style should not be questioned without adequate grounds, and it does not seem that the grounds are adequate in this instance.

The author of 1 John claims to be an eyewitness (1:1–3); if this is not true, then the epistle is pseudonymous. Pseudonymous works, however, normally identified by name the author whose identity and authority they wished to assume. If one labels 1 John pseudonymous, one must attribute to it an attempted implicit pseudonymity–a category for which parallels are more difficult to find.¹⁰³⁴

Differences based on content are even less decisive.¹⁰³⁵ John and 1 John have much more in common than one would expect, given the different situations addressed. Differences of nuance or items included are hardly adequate to distinguish authors; were that the case, Romans and 1Corinthians could hardly have been written by the same Pau1. (Compare even stylistic variations: as mentioned above, whereas Paul seems to cite then qualify Corinthian positions in the latter–e.g., 1Cor 6:12–14–he uses a more customary imaginary interlocutor throughout his diatribe in Romans.) No other author of antiquity could survive the nit-picking distinctions on which NT scholars, poring over a smaller corpus, often thrive. As a translator of Euripides for the Loeb series notes, Euripides» «plays, produced at times widely apart, and not in the order of the story, sometimes present situations (as in Hecuba, Daughters of Troy, and Helen) mutually exclusive, the poet not having followed the same legend throughout the series.»¹⁰³⁶ He would not fare well in the hands of our discipline.

While the content by itself need not indicate common authorship, Rodney Whitacre is correct that it does not challenge it:

This fundamental agreement in the form and content of the polemic of the two documents suggests that they are more closely related to one another than has sometimes been allowed. I do not think that the close similarities I have discussed necessarily indicate common authorship. However, if they were not both written by the same person, then the similarities in the polemic that I have noted at least indicate that 1 John is very close indeed to the mind and spirit of the Gospe1.¹⁰³⁷

Some have proposed a large influx of Gentiles between the writing of John and 1 John to account for some differences between the two documents.¹⁰³⁸ Although there were undoubtedly Gentile elements within this community if it was located in Asia Minor (cf. Acts 19), no influx of Gentiles is necessary to account for the differences. The thesis of 1 John s polemic against secessionists is adequate for that. It may also be that 1 John addresses a different group of Johannine churches than the Gospel does; whereas two of the churches in Revelation (Smyrna and Philadelphia) confronted the sort of conflicts presupposed in the Fourth Gospel, others faced problems with false teachers, some of whom may have relativized Christs position to advocate compromise with the imperial cult. Whatever the specific situation, a different Sitz im Leben alone would be sufficient to account for the differences between Gospel and Epistles.

In our opinion, the burden of proof remains on those who challenge common authorship, even if more scholars, who often work from minimalist assumptions (i.e., starting from the most skeptical point defensible), hold to different authors than agree with our view here.

Throughout this commentary it is assumed that both Revelation and the Fourth Gospel in their present form issue from the same community.¹⁰³⁹ Many writers accept this common origin,¹⁰⁴⁰ though it is often argued that the documents emerged from the same community in different stages of its existence.¹⁰⁴¹ Barrett, for example, thinks that the Apostle John produced apocalyptic works which one disciple gathered into our current book of Revelation, while other disciples composed the Gospel and Epistles.¹⁰⁴² The Johannine Paracletés revelation of «things to come» (John 16:13) provides the Johannine community with the sort of expectation in which a book like Revelation could be received.¹⁰⁴³

The style of the two books, however, is quite different, and where both books share the same motifs, the Gospel typically develops them in the direction of realized eschatology and narrative rather than apocalyptic symbolism.¹⁰⁴⁴ The relationship between John and Revelation is thus more problematic than that between John and the Epistles, and far less consensus about any close relationship exists.¹⁰⁴⁵ Although John and Revelation clearly share some common traditions, not all scholars agree that the same community must stand behind them.¹⁰⁴⁶ And while many postulate an origin in the same community, claims to common authorship, while still articulated, are rare. Against cautious attempts of Harnack, Schlatter, Zahn, Preisker, Bousset, Weiss, Stauffer, and Lohmeyer to postulate Johannine authorship for the Apocalypse, most scholars are doubtful, and the consensus of modern scholarship has remained consistent with the view of the third-century amillennial critic Dionysius of Alexandria: the two works are too divergent to derive from the same hand.¹⁰⁴⁷ Yet at the risk of defending an extreme minority position, it must be questioned whether even the evidence against common authorship warrants dogmatism. Granted, the internal evidence for common authorship is considerably weaker than it is for that of the Gospel and Epistles; nor is an internal case for common authorship compelling by itself. One certainly cannot prove that the Gospel and Revelation are from the same hand, and if one argues from internal evidence, one will be more inclined to doubt than to accept their common authorship. But their common authorship on some level is not impossible, and it is more defensible than current scholarship generally assumes, if one on other grounds– early external evidence for the authorship of each work–accepts common authorship. As Feuillet points out, the differences are more superficial than they first appear.¹⁰⁴⁸ Indeed, Caird, who himself thinks different authors more probable if both documents were written near the same time, concedes that common authorship is at least arguable.¹⁰⁴⁹ Noting that the stylistic and theological differences between them have been overstated, he points out: «There are striking similarities between [sic: among] the five Johannine writings, as well as striking differences, and it is certain that they all came from the same geographical, cultural, and theological setting, if not from the one hand.»¹⁰⁵⁰ Others find common authorship impossible, but think that the contacts both in terminology and theology require some relationship, perhaps stemming from common members of a Johannine «school» in Asia Minor.¹⁰⁵¹

For the purpose of the commentary, it is necessary only to argue that Revelation and John derive from the same circles in early Christianity. We here offer a case for more continuity than our argument requires, however, to emphasize the inadequacy of the internal evidence for proving they could not stem from the same circles or even the same hand.¹⁰⁵² This matter may prove indirectly relevant to the question of the Fourth Gospel's authorship. Because Revelation directly claims authorship by one «John,» which is probably not a pseudonym and has been applied by some to John the Apostle, the differences between Revelation and the Gospel can be used to challenge the authorship of the latter.¹⁰⁵³

One area of major difference is vocabulary.¹⁰⁵⁴ Fiorenza points out that key terms of the Gospel are missing from Revelation, and they share only eight words that occur nowhere else in the NT.¹⁰⁵⁵ This is true, but pressing these divergences too far does not take into account the very different focus, genre, and, to a lesser extent, situation of the two books. These are matters which we might have expected Dionysius to ignore, but which invite more discussion today. Once they are taken into account, the similarities become as striking as the differences, unless one presupposes that one person would not write both a gospel and an apocalypse, one focusing on realized and the other on future eschatology. Yet very different works from the same hands of other ancient writers (e.g., Virgil, Cicero, Horace, Seneca, Tacitus, Apuleius) raise the question whether we may simply assume that one writer could not write both kinds of works. As Cicero puts it (Fam. 9.21.1, LCL),

For I don't always adopt the same style. What similarity is there between a letter, and a speech in court or at a public meeting? Why, even in law-cases I am not in the habit of dealing with all of them in the same style. Private cases, and those petty ones too, I conduct in a more plain-spoken fashion, those involving a mans civil status or his reputation, of course, in a more ornate style; but my letters I generally compose in the language of everyday life.¹⁰⁵⁶

Revelation's syntax reflects more traditional Semitic rhythms¹⁰⁵⁷ because it imitates the style of Ezekiel,¹⁰⁵⁸ revelatory parts of Daniel, and other prophetic syntax.¹⁰⁵⁹ Punctuated with such common phrases as «I looked, and behold, I saw,» it is visionary language,¹⁰⁶⁰ and hence utterly different from the style of a gospel (though John also emphasizes seeing and hearing the eschatological revelation of Jesus in the present).¹⁰⁶¹ But the nature of this book so permeates its language that, once this is taken into account, differences in language between the two books are hardly decisive. As Caird point out, «because a man writes in Hebraic Greek, it does not inevitably follow that this is the only Greek he is capable of writing.» He may deliberately adopt such a style, as Luke apparently did with Septuagintal idiom in his infancy narrative.¹⁰⁶² There is evidence that the writer of Revelation was also capable of writing more sophisticated and less Semitic Greek.¹⁰⁶³

Common Language in Both. Revelation and the other Johannine documents exhibit many common features of vocabulary and sometimes, despite the distinct syntactical characteristics of the respective genres, style as wel1.¹⁰⁶⁴ «Witness» is prominent in both (Rev 1:2, 5,9, 3:14,6:9,11:3, 7,12:11,15:5,19:10, 20:4);¹⁰⁶⁵ it is often associated with faithfulness, sometimes to the death (Rev 1:5, 2:10,13, 3:14,12:11, 17:14,19:20; cf. the Semitic sense of «true» in the Fourth Gospel, e.g., 1:14). The «word,» as in the rest of the NT, is normally the prophetic witness of the gospel (cf. Rev 3:10, 6:9, 17:17, 20:4). God or Jesus is true (Rev 3:14,19:11; John 3:33), righteous (Rev 16:5; John 17:25), and holy (Rev 4:6; John 17:11), and his works are «manifested» (Rev 15:4; John 1:21, 3:21, 5[δεικνύω, cf. 2:11, 10:32], 7:3, 9:3, 14:21, 17:6, 21:1). «Works» play a major role in both, referring to human deeds but also to divine acts (Rev 2:2, 5–6, 19, 22–23, 26, 3:1–2, 8, 15, 15:3, 16:11, 18:6, 20:12–13, 22:12; John passim). «Glory» in Revelation is often praise ascribed to God (4:9, 11,5:12,11:13,14:7,15:4,19:7,21:24,26; vs. 16:9,18:7), but is also equivalent to the Jewish idea of the divine yekara or shekinah (15:8,21:11,23). Its semantic range is thus similar to that of «glory» in the Fourth Gospel, although the revelatory Christological sense is lacking in Revelation.

Both documents reflect some knowledge of sayings of the Jesus tradition behind the Synoptics (e.g., Rev 2:7; 3:3,5;¹⁰⁶⁶ John 12:25). «After these things» serves a literary function in each (Rev 4:1; 7:9; 15:5; 18:1; 19:1; cf. 7:1; 20:3; John 5:1; 6:1; 7:1).¹⁰⁶⁷ The normal expression «come and see» in John 1:39, 46, may find apocalyptic expression in Rev 4:1; 11:12; 17:1; 21:9.¹⁰⁶⁸ Similar metaphors (such as the OT linkage of bridegroom with joy, Rev 18:23; John 3:29) appear. Although such examples are not decisive by themselves, they are at least as significant as the often-acclaimed differences, once the respective settings and genres of the two works are taken into account.

Differences Due to Situation or Genre. Revelation's omission of significant Johannine vocabulary often relates to the genre and subject matter the document addresses. For instance, Revelation makes a much more direct assault on emperor worship and presupposes a more cosmopolitan, Roman setting. While the Gospel advocates a high Christology against its opponents and naturally addresses the life of Jesus in a purely Jewish context, these factors are not sufficient to explain the difference. The Gospel and Apocalypse seem to address different situations in the circle of Johannine readership. Similarly, Revelation, set in a context of public worship, includes more liturgical language (e.g., «amen,» 1:7; marana tha, cf. 22:20).¹⁰⁶⁹

The difference in genre is perhaps more significant than the difference in life-setting. Although «walk» in the halakic sense is at best rare in Revelation (3is only slightly helpful), in contrast with its dominance in 1 John and much early Christian paraenetic tradition, this is to be expected because Revelation includes little paraenesis; its exhortations are primarily prophetic and apocalyptic. Still, Jesus» commandments are as crucial for his followers in Revelation as in the undisputed Johannine texts (Rev 12:17,14:12; John 13:34, 14:15, 21). This apparently includes the love commandment (Rev 2:4;¹⁰⁷⁰ John 13:34–35).

Similarly, the Gospel naturally stresses signs of grace whereas the Apocalypse stresses signs of judgment; but it may be more than coincidence that the first of John's seven signs, turning water to wine (2:9), reflects the first of Moses» signs in Exodus, turning water to blood (Exod 7:20; cf. Jub. 48:5),¹⁰⁷¹ a prominent source of judgment imagery in two of Revelation's three sets of seven plagues (8:8–11,16:3–4). John does not mention the marriage supper (Rev 19), but this concept provides part of the eschatological backdrop for John 6 and perhaps also chs. 2 and 21. The new Jerusalem naturally occurs only in Revelation (3:12, ch. 21), but the idea complements well the Fourth Gospel's emphasis on the genuine Jewishness of the true people of God, as well as his negative portrayal of the earthly Jerusalem. The new Jerusalem's dimensions probably simply represent the presence of God (a cube, like the holy of holies, 21:16);¹⁰⁷² its gates (Rev 21:12–13) are part of the imagery of the renewed city (Isa 60:18; Ezek 48:30–34), and are thus not incompatible with (though neither are they identical to) the sheepfold image of Jesus as the way and door (John 10:7, 9; 14:6).

John's «dwelling» motif, expressed by his characteristic menö, is replaced by katoicheö and the motif of the heavenly temple (e.g., Rev 21:3); but this fits the contrasting eschatological perspectives of the two books. Revelation's temple imagery (e.g., 3:12, 4:6, 5:8, 8:3, 15:2) is apocalyptic, but fits well theologically with John's portrayal of Jesus» replacement of the temple (2:21, 8:35,14:2); they function in a roughly equivalent manner on the theological level (Rev 21:22; cf. the tabernacle in 7:15,13:6,15:5; John 1:14).

Only Revelation includes the common Jewish image of the book of life (Rev 3:5, 20:12), but an apocalyptic image is hardly mandatory for a gospel; John, unlike the Synoptics, does stress eternal life as a possession in the present. White robes (Rev 3:4–5; 4:4; 6:11; 7:9; but cf. John 19:40; 20:12), the «new name» (Rev 2:17; 3:12; 7:3; 14:1; 22:4; cf. 17:5; 19:16; cf. John 1:42; 10:3), the crown imagery (Rev 2:11; 4:4; 12:1; 14:14; 19:12), angels (Rev passim; cf. John 20:12), the morning star (Rev 2:28; 22:16), the «nations» (Rev 2:26; 11:18; 12:5; 15:4; 19:15; 21:24; 22:2; but cf. John's kosmos), thunder (Rev 4:5; 8:5; 11:19; 16[Exod 19:16; Ezek 1:4,13]; cf. John 12:29), a cry for vengeance (Rev 6[reflecting the OT; cf. 4 Ezra 4:33–37]), darkness (Rev 6:12–14; John omits the Synoptic tradition's darkness at the cross), trumpets (1:10; 4:1; 8:2), locusts (9:3–11 [Joel 2:4–5]), and antichrist imagery (Rev 13; though cf. 1 John 2and possibly John 5:43; 10:1), are examples of apocalyptic motifs that play little or no part in the Fourth Gospe1. But this should simply be expected on the basis of different genres.

Although John would have been more enigmatic to outsiders than the Synoptics are, Revelation is far more enigmatic than John. John's frequent double entendres (e.g., 3:3, 6) are not difficult for the careful reader of the entire work to grasp. The Gospel as a whole yields itself most fruitfully to those able to penetrate the situation it presupposes; for readers familiar with that situation, however, its portrayal of the Johannine community and its opposition are quite stark. But this difference is mainly due to the difference in genre; apocalyptic literature is supposed to be enigmatic to the casual reader.¹⁰⁷³ The different genre of these documents so affects their different style that to argue that their style necessitates different authors is close to asserting that their different genre requires different authors.

Arguments from Vocabulary. The most significant, pervasive difference between John and Revelation is the difference in eschatological orientation. Despite much shared vocabulary, John usually applies this vocabulary to the present, while Revelation typically applies the same language to the future. Despite the overlap (cf. the wilderness motif and «place prepared,» below), these differences in orientation are evident throughout the works in question, and this provides the most serious challenge to common authorship. John does have its share of future eschatology, and Revelation has a bit of realized eschatology (though mainly in the sense that its readers lived on the edge of the end of the age), so it is not necessarily a matter of contradiction; but it is certainly at least a matter of divergent perspective.

Yet the same contrast could be posed between 2Corinthians and 1 Thessalonians; the former emphasizes realized eschatology and Hellenistic afterlife imagery (far more than 1Corinthians), whereas 1 Thessalonians emphasizes future eschatology. Most scholars today accept both as Pauline, sometimes arguing that Paul moved toward realized eschatology. Yet even the argument that Paul's eschatology changed may be conceding too much; his later letter to the Philippians contains realized (1:23; cf. 2Cor. 5:8) and future (3:20–21; cf. 1Cor. 15:49) eschatology together (if we accept the letter's unity). It seems most likely that Paul held both views concurrently (or at least never abandoned his earlier futurist eschatology), but stressed certain perspectives more than others depending on the audience and situation he was addressing (his later letters do seem to stress realized eschatology more frequently, perhaps because of the circles in which he was moving and his reported experience as a philosophical lecturer in Ephesus, Acts 19:9).¹⁰⁷⁴ Could not John have focused on one kind of eschatological language in one document and another in a different document, as Paul sometimes did? If John did so, it would come as no surprise that his Apocalypse focused on the future, and his Gospel focused on the past and present.

Different authors of the same school could account for the differences, but if one questions common authorship on the basis of this thoroughgoing orientation, one might also question common origin in the same schoo1. After all, would not members of the same school and community be even more apt to share their teacher's perspective than his vocabulary?¹⁰⁷⁵ On the other hand, it would take the same author less originality to adapt the same vocabulary to different genres,¹⁰⁷⁶ and to confine a major part of his own perspective to each one; and individual authors not following a school were often eclectic.¹⁰⁷⁷ If one questions whether the same author could have propagated both realized and future eschatology, one could ask the same question of the community from which both works issued or, indeed, of those who accept both works in a single canon today.¹⁰⁷⁸

In fact, as Luke parallels Jesus and the church in Luke-Acts, one could argue (if so inclined) that John emphasizes the continuity of experience between Jesus in the Gospel and the prophetic community in Revelation, emphasizing realized eschatology in the former and future eschatology in the latter. Such a close relationship between the two works would be at best an exaggeration; they lack the uniting architectonic patterns that are so clear in Luke-Acts.¹⁰⁷⁹ But it suffices to suggest that common authorship is a more defensible position than has often been allowed.

The same author is more likely to use the same vocabulary in a different way than to use different vocabulary to articulate the same basic point. Thus, for instance, Luke does not use κολλάομαι (Luke 10:11; 15:15; Acts 5:13; 8:29; 10:28; 17:34) or προσδοκάω (usually positive and theological in Luke, but less so in Acts)¹⁰⁸⁰ in a uniform manner.¹⁰⁸¹ Different subject matter, sources, genre, or even mood can account for such differences. But for the minimal argument that John and Revelation reflect the same communities, theological compatibility (treated below) remains an important question.

We have noted the divergent eschatological perspectives above, which probably constitute the strongest argument for distinct authors. Beyond this primary and pervasive distinction, however, most theological differences are more relative. The extreme theological discrepancies some have alleged to exist between undisputedly Johannine literature and Revelation presuppose a reading of these works that does not appear entirely coherent with the data within them.¹⁰⁸² Differences in vocabulary and syntax may sometimes obscure deeper relationships on the level of meaning.

Moreover, a writer or community may express different emphases in different works without assuming that those emphases are mutually exclusive. One can use surface inconsistencies to deconstruct even a unified letter (for instance, Paul speaks of the Corinthian Christians as «sanctified in Christ» [1Cor 1:2] yet calls their behavior fleshly [3:1–4] on the basis of an internal theological coherence deeper than the apparent contradiction; cf. 6:8–11). To argue that a document rejects what it omits or does not emphasize is to argue from silence, and such arguments are always tenuous.¹⁰⁸³

Theological Similarities. The two books have similar pneumatologies,¹⁰⁸⁴ although the Fourth Gospel develops the theme much more fully. The Spirit and prophets play an important and connected role in both (cf. Rev 1:3, 10; 2:7, 11, 17, 29; 3:6, 13, 22; 11:6, 18; 14:13; 16:6; 18:20, 24; 19:10; 22:6, 17; perhaps 1:19).¹⁰⁸⁵ The divine breath gives life (Rev 11:11; John 20:22). Spiritual worship is vital (Rev 1and repeated scenes of worship in the heavenly temple; John 4:24), and Jesus and the Father are worshiped equally (Rev 5:13–14; John 9:38; contrast Revelations worship of the beast), even using similar wording (cf. Rev 4with John 20:28). The sealing idea is common to both, although Revelation develops the nuances in several directions, perhaps in typical Johannine double entendre (Rev 5–7; 20:3; John 3:33; 6:27). Both documents share the water of life (Rev 7:17; 21:6; 22:1,17; John 7:38), following the Lamb (Rev 7:17; 14:4; John 10:4) and the Lamb guiding them (Rev 7[Isa 49:10]; John 16:13), although, in typically Johannine fashion, the terms are developed in different temporal directions.

There are important relationships on the level of ecclesiology. The people of God are portrayed in both documents as those who believe in Jesus. Both the Fourth Gospel (see below) and Revelation are obsessed with this ecclesiology. Revelation uses Jewish Israel-symbolism such as lampstands to portray the churches (1:20).¹⁰⁸⁶ The lampstand was the most prominent symbol of ancient Judaism,¹⁰⁸⁷ frequent in the Diaspora (certainly including Asia)¹⁰⁸⁸ and as far west as Rome.¹⁰⁸⁹ Revelation also applies OT language such as Exod 19 to believers in Jesus (Rev 1:6; 5:10; 20:6); Revelation's reading of Exod 19as «kingdom and priests» (1:6; 5:10; 20:6) may presuppose the Jewish interpretation later found in the Targum, possibly suggesting engagement with extrabiblical Jewish people-of-God traditions.

The twenty-four elders, probably representing the priesthood of believers (Rev 4:4),¹⁰⁹⁰ and the 144,000 (Rev 7:3–8; 14:l-5),¹⁰⁹¹ may further represent the people of God in Christ. Believers are «chosen» (Rev 17:14; John 15:16) «children of God» (Rev 21:7; John 1:12; 3:5; 20:17), following Jewish people-of-God motifs that remained dominant in early Christianity. The «servants» in Revelation (1:1; 2:20; 7:3; 19:2, 5, 10; 22:3) are primarily prophets of Jesus, whereas in John (13:16; 15:20; not 15:15) discipleship is meant. But both apply the language to all believers, and both stress the prophetic character of the church's witness.

«Church» appears only in Revelation, but there refers only to local congregations, an unsuitable subject for John (of the four extant gospels, only Matthew employs the term, and only twice). The Fourth Gospel does have a highly developed ecclesiology and 3 John 9 uses «church» the same way Revelation does. «Children» of a church or doctrine (Rev 2:23) may not appear in the Fourth Gospel (the usage of 13:33; 1 John 2and passim; 2 John 4; 3 John 4, probably related to discipleship, is somewhat different), but one need not look beyond 2 John 1 to recognize that it was used by the Johannine community.¹⁰⁹²

The soteriology of both reflects that of early Christianity in general, but they have special nuances in common, some overlapping more with those found in other early Christian sources than others do. Jesus loves his own (Rev 1:5,3:9; John 13:1,34,15:9–10), holds believers» fate in his hands (Rev 1and passim; John 10:28–29), and declares who are genuinely his people (Rev 3:7–8; John 10). Jesus» death and resurrection have cosmic significance (Rev 1:18; 2:8; cf. 3:1; John 12:31; 16:11; 17:4–5). Jesus» blood frees his followers (Rev 1:5; 5:9; 12:11), and cleanses them (Rev 7:14, cf. 22:14; 1 John 1:7), and is related to a river of life (John 19:34; cf. Rev 22:1). Both have references to piercing dependent on the same Zechariah testimonium (Rev 1:7; John 19:37). Both include the vision of God through Jesus (Rev 22:4; John 1:18; 1 John 3:6), although Revelation retains the apocalyptic orientation of divine vision from Judaism. The apparent elect may apostatize (John 6:70; Dan in Rev 7:4–8),¹⁰⁹³ wrath is emphasized (Rev 6:16–17; 11:18; 14:10, 15–16; 19:15; John 3:36),¹⁰⁹⁴ and «death» has a spiritual orientation (Rev 2:11, 20:14; 1 John 3:14, 5:16–17).¹⁰⁹⁵ Both apparently transform Jesus» cross into a throne (Rev 5, 22:1; John 12:32–33; 19:2–3,15,19). Both works emphasize that salvation (and damnation) are available to all nations (Rev 5:9–10; 7vs. 13:7; 14:6; κόσμος in John, esp. 4:42). «Repentance» (Rev 2:5; etc.) is not found in John, but appears in early Christian literature most commonly in conjunction with future eschatology (e.g., Matt 3:2; 4:17),¹⁰⁹⁶ and John implies it by other terms (his faith and decision dualisms).¹⁰⁹⁷

They also exhibit parallels in Christology.¹⁰⁹⁸ Jesus is Lord of history but subordinate to the Father. He is the beginning and the end (Rev 1:17; 2:8; 3:14; 22:13; cf. 1:8; 4vs. 17:8; John 1:1–18); this identifies him as deity (Isa 44:6; Rev 1:8; 21:6). He may be the Son of Man of Dan 7 (Rev 1:13, but cf. 14:14), as often in John (esp. 5:27). As in John, Revelation's Jesus is the divine Son of God (Rev 2:18, although this may strike especially at the imperial cult).¹⁰⁹⁹ His name is significant (e.g., Rev 2:3, 3:8, 12). Jesus has a supernatural knowledge of the human heart (Rev 2:2, 9, 13, 19; 3:3, 8, 15, especially with έργα; John 2:24–25; 6:15, 64), searching the minds and hearts (Rev 2:23; John 2:25). Jesus is explicitly called creator only in the Gospel, but there acts as the agent of the Father (1:3), which does not conflict with Revelation (4:11; cf. 3:14).

Jesus is both shepherd (Rev 7:17; John 10:11) and paschal lamb (Rev 5:6; John 1:29; 19:36).¹¹⁰⁰ He is the incarnate Word of God (Rev 19:13; John 1:1–18) in both. (Some other Torah motifs may appear, whether the tree of life [Rev 2:7; 22:2, 14, 19]¹¹⁰¹ or, more likely, light [Rev 21:23; 22:5;¹¹⁰² John 1:4; 8:12]. But the evidence for these in Revelation is sparse.) Jesus is the universal king (Rev 17:14; 19:16; John 1:49; 12:13; 19:19); although «King of Israel» could simply mean «messiah,» the Fourth Gospels Christology suggests that it fits Revelation s use of Gentile titles for divine kings and the Jewish use of «King of kings» for God (17:14; 19:16;¹¹⁰³ cf. also melech haolam, presupposed in Rev 15MSS).¹¹⁰⁴ There might be a shared Michael Christology (Rev 12in context; some writers on John's Paraclete) and bridegroom Christology (Rev 19:7; 21:2; John 3:29); it is even slightly possible that the image of Jesus as vine (John 15:1) is echoed in the anti-vine of Rev 14:19. The weight of these more peripheral similarities can be evaluated, however, only after one has already established or disproved a relationship between the documents in question.

Similarities in Apocalyptic Worldview. The apocalyptic worldview (including heaven-earth dualism and severe opposition between Gods people and the world) informs both,¹¹⁰⁵ although the Gospel paints its drama in Jesus» life and consequently emphasizes realized eschatology. Although some of this worldview pervades most early Christian literature, specific parallels between John and Revelation are significant, especially those that appear rarely, if ever, elsewhere in the NT.

Both Revelation and the Fourth Gospel share a similar theology of suffering, although in John its major object is Jesus, and it is promised to the disciples only for the future (15:18–25; 16:32–33), whereas Revelation by its nature emphasizes the present suffering of disciples (12:17; 13:7; 17:6; 19:2). In both the suffering of disciples is linked with that of Jesus, often by subtle narrative connections; Revelation links them by clues on the nature of martyrdom (5:6; 6:9), John by equally subtle clues linking Jesus» hour with that of the disciples (e.g., 16:2,21,32; 17:1). The sufferings of Jesus» death usher in the period of messianic birth-pangs for disciples throughout the present age (John 16:21; cf. Rev 12:2).¹¹⁰⁶

Although tribulation is occasionally a punishment for errorists (Rev 2:22), it usually applies to believers (Rev 1:9; 2:9–10; 7:14; John 16:21, 33). Perseverance (Rev 2:3,19; 3:10; 13:10; 14:12) and endurance (Rev 2:3, 25), are at least implied for both. In Revelation believers are overcomes (2:7,11,17,26; 3:5,12,21; 12:11; 17:14; 21:7; cf. 11:7; 13:7; cf. «make war» in 2:16; 11:7; 12:11, 17; 17:14; 19:11, 19; 20:8); in 1 John, believers are overcomers (5:4–5) through a decided event (2:14; 4:4), the finished work of Christ (also John 16:33).

Both documents have «descent» language (Rev 3:12; John passim) and are permeated by an overriding vertical dualism. Opened heavens signify revelation (Rev 4:1; 11:19; 19:11; cf. 3:20; 5:2–3; 15:5; 20:12; John 1:51). Jesus wipes away tears (Rev 7:17; 21:4;¹¹⁰⁷ cf. John 20:15–16); his followers «go out» (Rev 3:12; John 10:9); the righteous eat eschatological food (Rev 2:7, 17; 3:20, 19; cf. John 2, 6, 21). The true rest (Rev 14vs. 14:11) of the eschatological Sabbath (Rev 20:2–6;¹¹⁰⁸ cf. 1:10;¹¹⁰⁹ John 5), the eschatological hour (Rev 3:3,10; 14:7, 15; 17:12; 18:10,17, 19; John 2:4; 4:21, 23; 5:25, 28; 7:6, 8, 30; 8:20; 12:23, 27; vs. Jesus» hour in John, e.g., 2:4),¹¹¹⁰ and the eschatological inversion of the true and false (Rev 2:9, 3:17–18; John 9:39, 41) are developed in different directions but found in both.

The wilderness motif of the new exodus is also common to both works and seems to cover the entire period between Jesus» first and second comings (Rev 12:5–6; John 1:23; 3:14; 6:31; cf. 11:54). Glasson notes the wilderness parallels, and lists the tabernacle, water and light, manna (Rev 2:17; John 6:31–33), and palms (Rev 7:9; John 12:13); but he also observes that these motifs are present in John but future in Revelation.¹¹¹¹ While the wilderness itself certainly refers to the present rather than the future age in Revelation (12:6,14), and his contrast between John's past antichrist (17:12) and Revelation's future one (Rev 13) is questionable,¹¹¹² Glasson is not mistaken about the different orientation; as he points out, Zech 12applies to the cross in John 19:37, but to the second coming in Rev 1:7.¹¹¹³ The two books are relatively consistent in their different orientations, despite the presence of some future es-chatology in John; but as we have argued above, these differences of orientation need not be (though could be) a decisive argument for separate authors.

The symbolic use of «woman» might also be parallel, although this is more questionable (Rev 12vs. 17:3; cf. John 2:4; 4:21; 19:26); until one presupposes the connection between John and Revelation, it is not clear that the narrative should be read metaphorically. If John 14:1–3 refers to the coming of Jesus in the Spirit after the resurrection, as the context suggests, the «place prepared» may be a verbal connection between the books, meaning the same in both (Rev 12:6; John 14:3).

The devil is an opponent in both, though described differently (Rev 2:10,13; John 12:31; 14:30; 16:11). While one would not expect exorcisms in an apocalyse, the rarity of demons in the Gospel is harder to explain (Rev 9:20; 16:14; John 7:20; 10:20–21; apocalyptic texts portrayed them more as fallen angels, but the other extant gospels emphasize exorcisms). In both, the devil is thrown down at the cross (Rev 12:9, cf. 20:3; John 12:31), is a deceiver (Rev 12:9; 20:10; John 8:44; cf. 1 John 2:26–27) and accuser (Rev 12:10; cf. Jesus» enemies in John and the opposite role of the Paraclete). «Lying» refers to speaking falsehood about Jesus Christ in Revelation (3:9; 14:5) as well as in John (8:44; 1 John 2:22). Satan is connected with heresy (Rev 2:24; John 8with 1 John 2:22), and idols, which are connected with heresy (Rev 2:14, 20; 1 John 5:21), are connected with demons in Revelation (9:20; 16:14).

None of these parallels (some of which are stronger than others) prove or come close to proving common authorship. They do, however, illustrate that common authorship is not impossible, a possibility which may commend itself on other grounds (such as Revelation's probably explicit and the Gospel's possibly implicit claim to authorship by a prominent leader named John, and early Christian tradition). The case is considerably weaker than the argument for unity of authorship of Luke and Acts (two volumes of one work) and of the Gospels and Epistles of John, but perhaps similar to the case that can be made for Pauline authorship of the so-called deuteropauline works, and perhaps better than the case for common authorship of 1 and 2 Peter.

The common authorship of the two works remains plausible for those who respect highly the earliest available traditions on authorship. Indeed, if the Fourth Gospel is assigned to the Apostle John, Revelation claims to be written by a well-known John (Rev 1:1, 4,9; 22:8),¹¹¹⁴ and arguments for its pseudonymity are weak.¹¹¹⁵ Since John could call himself simply «John» without other marks of identification, I am inclined to think that the evidence for Johannine authorship of Revelation may exceed that for the Gospel itself.¹¹¹⁶ If one protests that the author of Revelation speaks of apostles without identifying himself as one in 18:20, it should be noted that he speaks in the same place of saints and prophets without identifying himself as one. Did John the seer not then regard himself as a prophet or saint? Those who are not persuaded by such arguments to accept or entertain common authorship may at least recognize a common circle in which John, an apostle and eyewitness of Jesus, provided the basis for the traditions on which these documents are built.

Revelation will be used in this commentary to help reconstruct the situation presupposed in the Fourth Gospel, but it should be noted that, if the two works do not share common communities, the case for a destination of the Gospel in the Roman province of Asia (Rev 1:4,11) is substantially reduced. This would leave Syria-Palestine, especially Galilee, as a most likely destination for the Gospe1. If the reader opts for a primarily Galilean audience, the earliest Pharisaic-rabbinic materials become of more direct importance for reconstructing the life-setting of the Gospe1. But there do seem to be parallels between the opponents of certain communities in Revelation and those of the Gospels audience (Rev 2:9; 3:9), and possibly also of schismatics within the community (Rev 2:6, 14–15, 20; 1 John). Whether these parallels are attributed to a situation shared by Christians in various cities of Asia, or to a situation shared by Christians in Asia and Palestine,¹¹¹⁷ must be decided by other factors such as those surveyed above.

All our arguments concerning authorship are matters of probability, and some are more probable than others. We regard as very probable that the Gospel and Epistles, especially 1 John, derive from the same author, that Revelation stems from a seer named John, and that the Gospel includes at least eyewitness tradition from John the apostle. We regard as probable that John and Revelation stem from the same community and at least traditions from a prominent «John.» We also regard as likely, based on external evidences, yet more difficult to prove, that John son of Zebedee authored the substance of the finished Gospel, and as more plausible than usually recognized that both John and Revelation could share a common authorship. But given obvious stylistic differences, different presuppositions depending on the value of external attestation would produce an entirely different result in the final view of authorship. What I hope this study has demonstrated is that such common authorship is at least possible, arguments to the contrary notwithstanding, and that attribution at least to the same Johannine circle remains very likely.