4. Social Contexts

THE TENUOUSNESS OF PAST HISTORICAL reconstructions of the Johannine community, along with the difficulties in inferring the author's intention from a document, warn us against an overly detailed reconstruction of the situations the author originally sought to address. Indeed, the life-setting of a Gospel is not as central or as easy to reconstruct as the life-setting of one of Paul's letters. As implied in our discussion of genre and in the work's claims to the Paracletés inspiration, the Gospels are «foundation documents for religious communities … more analogous [in that sense] to a systematic theology, albeit in narrative form,» than to an occasional letter. It thus may reflect potential as well as current situations.¹¹¹⁸ As with most other biographies, its author may have hoped for a wider circulation, hence requiring of implied readers less locally specific information than presupposed in epistles.¹¹¹⁹

At the same time, we can make some statements about the general milieu (such as the tradition's Jewishness or the usefulness of broader elements of the ancient Mediterranean milieu) to a very high degree of probability, and some other statements about the sort of situation the Gospel addresses (namely, conflict with a synagogue community) to a large degree of probability.¹¹²⁰

Before we begin examining the milieu in general, we must consider matters of the Fourth Gospel's date and provenance which can affect our reconstruction of the most relevant social contexts for interpretation.

For the most part, Luke Timothy Johnson is correct that scholarly consensus concerning the dating of the Gospels depends on inferences about literary dependence.¹¹²¹ Nevertheless, John's literary freedom has probably made his own Sitz im Leben more transparent than that of the other gospels. While I frankly admit that my dating of the other canonical gospels remains conjectural, I think the evidence is somewhat stronger for dating John. With most scholars, I favor a date in the mid-nineties, during Domitians reign.

Although John is attested as widely circulated in «orthodox» (i.e., non-gnostic) circles only after the middle of the second century,¹¹²² most scholars now concur that John was written by the end of the first century.¹¹²³ John was widely accepted by the late second century,¹¹²⁴ but orthodox allusions may appear earlier, for example, in Diogn. 6.3 (perhaps as early as 130 C.E.): «Christians dwell in the world, yet are not of the world,»¹¹²⁵ or in the same epistle s references to God sending Christ because he loved humanity, not to judge humanity (cf. John 3:16–18).¹¹²⁶ At about the same period, Basilides reportedly quotes John 1:9.¹¹²⁷ Earlier than this, Polycarp demonstrates familiarity with some Johannine literature, loosely quoting 1 John 4:2–3 (Po1. Phil 7.1).

The canon of four gospels is so firmly established by the late second century that Irenaeus can assert that there could not have been more or less than four gospels. While he is quite frank in denouncing gnostic heresy (which had made much use of John), he sounds as if the orthodox are united in their view that there are four gospels.¹¹²⁸ Basilides and the Valentinian gnostics were citing the Fourth Gospel by ca. 135, suggesting that it must have been in circulation beyond its original geographical region by that time.¹¹²⁹

But far more decisive evidence for John s terminus ad quem has come to light. In 1935 P⁵², a fragment of the Fourth Gospel dating to the first half of the second century, came to light.¹¹³⁰ The location of this text's discovery far from the Gospel's likely places of origin pushes its proposed date of writing back at least a quarter century;¹¹³¹ it had thus been in circulation throughout the early second century. Nor does the manuscript allow us to suppose that this represents a pre-Johannine tradition on which John based part of his Gospel, or that substantial redaction (at least in this part of the Gospel) occurred after the date of its copying. As Dibelius notes, «That oldest fragment of the Gospel of John dating from the period 100–140 does not differ by a single word from our printed Greek texts.»¹¹³² Metzger, one of the leading text critics of the twentieth century, is more forceful: P ⁵²

proves the existence and use of the Fourth Gospel in a little provincial town along the Nile, far from its traditional place of composition (Ephesus in Asia Minor), during the first half of the second century. Had this little fragment been known during the middle of the past century, that school of New Testament criticism which was inspired by the brilliant Tuebingen professor, Ferdinand Christian Baur, could not have dated the composition of the Fourth Gospel in about 160.¹¹³³

This is the earliest attestation available for any sample of early Christian literature and represents a phenomenal discovery. Apart from contemporary copies of imperial decrees, extant copies of most ancient works usually date to centuries after the origina1.¹¹³⁴

Papyrus Egerton 2 includes elements that parallel both John and the Synoptics.¹¹³⁵ The papyrus is clearly dependent on John, which it regards as an authoritative source,¹¹³⁶ indicating (at the least) that the Fourth Gospel predates it. Jeremias thinks that this fragment attests to oral citation of gospels already fixed in writing.¹¹³⁷

What is uncertain is how far before 100 C.E. the Gospel is to be dated. One scholar argues that the «allusion to Peter s martyrdom in 21:18–19 demands a date after 64 A.D.»¹¹³⁸ Westcott, Hort, and Lightfoot, the great triumvirate of nineteenth-century British NT scholars, dated Revelation to the late sixties and the Gospel and Epistles, from the same hand, to the nineties. John A. T. Robinson, however, dates both to the sixties.¹¹³⁹ Some contemporary scholars suggest a date in the eighties.¹¹⁴⁰ Such a proposal is not of itself untenable, although, as we shall see below, the situation presupposed in the Fourth Gospel better fits a later period. Complexity of thought is hardly a necessary indicator of lateness, as if Paul had contemplated his faith less thoroughly than Ignatius because Paul was earlier.¹¹⁴¹ If John is not dependent on the Synoptics (and we doubt that it is, at least directly), the earlier date is possible.¹¹⁴²

The Gospel is most commonly dated to the nineties, however, following early Christian tradition.¹¹⁴³ Most Johannine scholars of recent decades have preferred this date because it fits nicely the Sitz im Leben, or life-setting, that scholars have reconstructed for the document: a division between the Johannine community and the synagogue community from which it seceded, perhaps somehow related to the Birkath Ha-minim in Jewish Palestine, which occurred within the decade or two preceding this. The evidence for the life-setting will be examined below, but at this point in the study we accept a date in the nineties as a working hypothesis.

The matter of provenance involves difficulties of reconstruction due to the limited nature of our evidence. We have much Palestinian material about conflict between early Christians and rabbis; but though our evidence elsewhere is sparse, we doubt that Jewish Christians experienced conflicts only with Palestinian rabbis. We know far less about the views of Jews in Roman Asia (despite considerable archaeological evidence for their existence) than we do, say, about Jews in Palestine or Egypt, and perhaps even Rome and Babylonia.

Such gaps in our evidence may tempt us to select a provenance where more direct data remains and parallels are more easily drawn; in the end, however, we may have to make a best reasonable guess based on the evidence we do have, and admit information from other geographical regions as secondary evidence to help fill in our picture of early Mediterranean Jewish views. Given our limited extant evidence, it is simply not possible to provide an adequate reconstruction based on solely local evidence.¹¹⁴⁴

Proposals as to the geographical location of the Fourth Gospel and its implied audience vary considerably. Some have even suggested that a major source of the Gospel, an Aramaic Signs Gospel, originated in Alexandria.¹¹⁴⁵ Why an Aramaic work would have been composed in Alexandria rather than in Syro-Palestine,¹¹⁴⁶ however, is hard to fathom, since Greek was the first language of Alexandriás Jewish community.¹¹⁴⁷ Others propose an Egyptian origin for the Gospel because of its isolation and the appearance of a Coptic loanword.¹¹⁴⁸ Most of Egyptian Judaism was not sectarian (at least before 70), but the proposal of Egyptian provenance could explain why the work is not cited among writers from outside Egypt in the early second century. It could also explain the contemplative Christology, John s prologue, and perhaps even feelings of rejection by the Judean elite. This thesis would probably contradict the Johannine tradition, but from the early second century we have little «orthodox» tradition from Egypt, hence an explanation for the silence from which we might have to argue. Two other positions, however, offer stronger positive evidence.

Some scholars have proposed places of origin in Syria-Palestine, such as Galilee. That Johns tradition is Palestinian is widely accepted,¹¹⁴⁹ but this does not demonstrate that his work was intended for primary circulation there; it could incorporate substantial Palestinian tradition yet have been published in Ephesus or elsewhere.¹¹⁵⁰ What might strengthen the case for a Syro-Palestinian location for Johns community (whatever the place from which he wrote) is his apparent assumption that his audience would catch most of his Palestinian nuances, thus assuming their familiarity with the tradition. Place-names like Bethany in Perea (1:28) and Ainon near Salem (3:23) appear without explanation.

This conclusion, too, must be tempered by our evidence, however; John s intended readers are not all familiar with the cultural details of his narrative, especially with those most restricted to a Palestinian locale. Although the author shows his knowledge of Judean and Jerusalem topography, the implied reader's knowledge appears to be more limited to Galilean sites emphasized in the traditional Gospel story known to us in the Synoptics.¹¹⁵¹

This evidence does not refute a Palestinian audience, but it weakens the support for it. Pilgrimage festivals probably familiarized some Galileans as well as Diaspora Jews with Jerusalem's topography, at least enough to recognize the Fourth Gospel's allusions, although such memories would be fading–in any location–in a growing Christian community over two decades after the templés demise.

Conversely, a Diaspora Jewish audience which included formerly Palestinian Jewish families might explain features in the Gospel which would appeal to both elements in the community. As in the case of Revelation,¹¹⁵² John's implied audience could include a substantial base of settlers in Asia Minor, transplanted from Palestine in the war of 66–73.¹¹⁵³ The disruption of the Judean-Roman war and the events that followed produced a steady stream of Palestinian emigrants (Josephus Ant. 20.256), many of whom would undoubtedly have settled in areas where others who shared their faith and geographical origins had settled and could welcome them. This would account for teaching elements within the community who could make deeper Gospel allusions intelligible to their peers, while also accounting for John's explanation of features no longer familiar to a substantial part of his audience. If the author migrated to Asia in the wake of troubles in Judea in the late 60s or early 70s (whether John the apostle or not), he might well have propagated, and Diaspora Christians have eagerly embraced, his Palestinian tradition.¹¹⁵⁴

Others have suggested a provenance in Syria, especially based on parallels of language with the Odes of Solomon, Ignatius, Matthew, and sometimes gnostic revelatory discourses.¹¹⁵⁵ The evidence for this position is less than compelling, however, and often circular; Matthew's Syrian provenance is frequently similarly argued on the basis of parallels with the Odes of Solomon and Ignatius. Ignatius, whose letters indicate knowledge of the state of the church throughout Asia Minor, hardly points to Syria alone (and after all, there are also parallels between John and Polycarp). Most distressing to this position may be an argument advanced for the Antiochan provenance of the Odes of Solomon: Charlesworth, a leading scholar on the Odes, proposes this on the basis of parallels with John and Ignatius!¹¹⁵⁶

Better evidence favoring a Syro-Palestinian, milieu, however, is that the Gospel is a Jewish document written in Greek but betrays a clearly Semitic environment.¹¹⁵⁷ Yet even the preference for Palestinian Semitic features over those we have come to expect in sophisticated Alexandrian documents need not indicate more than a Palestinian origin for the tradition and the author who shaped it. One looks in vain in the Fourth Gospel for the pervasive influence of philosophic language and thought characteristic of Philo or Aristeas, but such language may have been more characteristic of Hellenistically educated Jewish aristocrats in general than of Diaspora Judaism in genera1. Josephus, whose language is often similar to Philos (considering the different genre in which he writes), was Judean; Joseph and Aseneth resembles lower-class romance novels; the Jewish Sibylline Oracles reflect the hexameter style of their pagan counterparts, and so on.

Confirmation for a Syro-Palestinian provenance of the Fourth Gospel might ultimately derive from another quarter. The blending of hostile «Jews» and «world» in the Fourth Gospel might suggest a provenance in Agrippa Ils territory after 70,¹¹⁵⁸ or perhaps sparring with leaders in Yavneh who exerted some influence on others. Of all bodies of ancient Jewish literature, rabbinic texts are nearly alone in portraying the schism between Jewish Christians and Jewish religious leaders; so far as the earliest stages of the traditions can be reconstructed, they seem to provide the best window into the conflicts experienced by the Matthean and especially Johannine communities, as will become evident below. Yet it has become increasingly clear that the rabbis had only influence, not complete control, over Jews in SyroPalestine, and the measure of their influence elsewhere in the Roman Empire in the late first century, two decades after they began to reorganize at Yavneh, is even more debatable. Unless some of them saw Christianity as such a threat that they took it on themselves to spread anti-Christian prejudice to Diaspora communities (cf. Acts 9:1–2; 28:21, neither of which refer to Pharisees or scribes), it is questionable how much influence the rabbis would have had in Ephesus or other proposed bases for the Johannine community.

To this we may offer two responses. First, although Palestinian rabbinic control over the Diaspora communities never existed, in the first century or centuries later, the Palestinian rabbis» influence on Babylonian and some Mediterranean circles seems to have increased over time. In the late first century, it would be speculative to assert that Palestinian rabbis sent messengers throughout the Diaspora to stir up opposition to Christians in the synagogues. Travel was frequent,¹¹⁵⁹ and hospitality was a widespread Mediterranean virtue,¹¹⁶⁰ stressed at least as early as the classical period.¹¹⁶¹ Among pagans, Zeus was considered the special guardian of guests.¹¹⁶² In part because inns, essential stopping points for travelers,¹¹⁶³ generally doubled as brothels,¹¹⁶⁴ Diaspora Judaism was especially scrupulous about hospitality, as ancient texts regularly attest¹¹⁶⁵ and modern scholars generally recognize.¹¹⁶⁶ Given the consequent communication network among Mediterranean synagogues created by frequent travelers, a more informal linkage of ideas, including warnings against hospitality to travelers elsewhere known to be schismatic, is quite likely.¹¹⁶⁷ The rabbis never even managed to control Syro-Palestinian Jewish piety, and certainly in this period any question of their involvement must be one of influence rather than of direct authority.

Second, our sources for Jewish-Christian relations in this period are very incomplete, especially for areas like Asia Minor.¹¹⁶⁸ Further, even if we had some social data, it would leave other social data ambiguous; for instance, Jewish Christians and non-Christian Jews could live side by side in Galilee, apparently at peace, while rabbinic polemic raged against Jewish Christians, suggesting polemic from the theologians but coexistence among the masses. While only the rabbis had occasion to report such disputes, most extant Diaspora Jewish literature does not have occasion to report internal disputes within the Jewish community, although we know from Josephus and Philo that it occurred. Since the rabbis are our only direct evidence, we may use their evidence as our closest available analogy to what the Johannine commnity was experiencing, without asserting a direct relationship between the rabbis and the synagogue leaders with whom the Johannine Christians plainly found themselves in conflict.

Although the evidence for a Syro-Palestinian provenance is not absolutely compelling, it is not weak and would be the most likely proposal if the evidence for Roman Asia is not judged as better. At the same time, it should also be noted that establishing a provenance in Ephesus is not essential for interpreting the Gospe1. Ephesus was mostly representative of other Greco-Roman cities of the eastern Mediterranean,¹¹⁶⁹ so the same general milieu would inform the Gospel there as in many other places. Thus van Tilborg draws connections between the Fourth Gospel and social life in Ephesus,¹¹⁷⁰ many of them plausible; but nearly all his parallels would apply to most cosmopolitan cities of the eastern Mediterranean. An Ephesian provenance does not affect interpretation as much as we might hope.

Many scholars continue to support the view of the early church that the Gospel was written in Ephesus,¹¹⁷¹ where extant traditions indicate that the Apostle John lived toward the end of his life.¹¹⁷² Irenaeus, who had known Polycarp, who had known John, affirms that John was the beloved disciple and wrote in Ephesus (Irenaeus Haer. 3.1.1).¹¹⁷³ Revelation supports this thesis (1:1, 4, 9; 2:1–7), if its author John is the Apostle John, for Ephesus would then be a place where a Johannine circle or community might flourish. Polycrates, late second century bishop of Ephesus, was naturally happy to claim John as well, declaring the presence of his tomb.¹¹⁷⁴ (One could, of course, be buried in Ephesus, even in the marketplace, as in Philostratus Vit. soph. 1.22.526, even if one had not lived most of onés life there– 1.22.522–526.) Clement also located John in Ephesus (Eusebius Hist. ecc1. 3.23.6–19); the only dissenter, Ephrem Syrus, located John in Antioch, which, as we have seen, is also a defensible tradition.¹¹⁷⁵ Granted, Ignatius assumes knowledge of Paul in Ephesus, but not the more recent John, and neither Polycarp nor Ignatius shows any dependence on the Gospe1.¹¹⁷⁶ This is an argument from silence, but a more reasonable one than most (unlike arguing from the brief seven verses in Rev 2:1–7), since one would expect John to be mentioned somewhere as other authors were. Against it, however, we may note that Paul was a founding leader of the church in Ephesus, and if we exclude John the apostle because he is not mentioned, why not also a different John the elder,¹¹⁷⁷ or an influential John on Patmos writing to churches of Asia Minor? Further, this silence does not explain where we should locate John's writing if not in Ephesus (since a manuscript discovery implies a date probably by the end of the first century). Various evidence supports a Johannine circle in Asia,¹¹⁷⁸ whereas those who propose a Syrian origin for the finished Gospel must explain why the earlier version of Ignatius is so lacking in Johannine references.

Of course, John could have written the Gospel earlier and then revised or simply circulated it in Ephesus,¹¹⁷⁹ which may well be the case. Those of us who suggest an Ephesian provenance usually make sense of Palestinian features by proposing that the author and many of the Johannine Christians migrated to Asia in the wake of the war with Rome, which dislocated and scattered large numbers of Palestinian Jews.¹¹⁸⁰ This would mean that younger members of the community were primarily dependent on oral tradition for understanding Palestinian allusions in the Gospel, but since older members would be doing more of the teaching, this is not unreasonable. In any case, the Gospel as we have it seems to derive from a period and location where exclusion from the Jewish community could in theory and at least occasionally in practice lead to death, and this suggests a date not earlier than the reign of Domitian.

Evidence remains for the Ephesian Jewish community,¹¹⁸¹ but evidence for intentional connections between Asian and Palestinian Judaism are ambiguous.¹¹⁸² Asian Jewry did not originate in Palestine,¹¹⁸³ and the emerging Palestinian rabbis did not focus on such distant areas of the Roman Diaspora.¹¹⁸⁴ Conversely, an inscription from Smyrna seems to indicate contributions by «former Judeans» there,¹¹⁸⁵ possibly indicating that a community of Palestinian emigrants had found Smyrna a hospitable place to settle. Before 70 C.E., certain Palestinian concepts would have been conveyed through pious festal pilgrims on their return to Asian congregations; after this time, as we suggested above, the custom of hospitality to travelers would have required definitions of which sorts of Jews were acceptable and which were not (those linked with Palestinian revolutionaries presumably would not have been). The same kinds of connections existed among Christians scattered throughout the empire.¹¹⁸⁶

Palestinian Jewish evidence remains helpful not only for understanding the tradition on which the Gospel is based, but also partially for studying the Jewish situation in Roman Asia. It is helpful for understanding Ephesian Judaism not because it is preferable to more local evidence, but because it is sometimes all the literary evidence we have. An observation by Kraabel, a significant advocate of studying regional differences, could incidentally support this approach:

Palestinian Judaism is known mainly from religious texts, and studies of these texts naturally result in contributions to the history of Jewish theology and exegesis. The Anatolian evidence illuminates the Jews» economic position, political power, social setting, etc., but says little about their piety, beyond attesting a desire to maintain synagogues and to record their allegiance to Judaism on their tombstones .… the lack of balance in the Anatolian data must be kept in mind by anyone wishing to grasp the whole of their life and thought and piety.¹¹⁸⁷

The Judaism of Roman Asia drew heavily from the culture of the cities in which it found itself;¹¹⁸⁸ the Jews of Ephesus and the rest of Ionia were citizens along with others who lived there (Josephus Ag. Ap. 2.39). Many Asian Jewish communities were influential in their cities and also would have had much to lose from disruptive «messianic» elements. At the same time, Asian Jewry's contact with other Jewish centers and institutions ensured some continuity.

The Fourth Gospel was associated with John from an early period, and Revelation from the time of its writing (1:1). We have commented earlier on the proposed connection between the two, but at the very least both issued from a center of Johannine tradition, where this particular apostles authority remained highly respected. The tradition associates his base of operation with Ephesus, although he is associated with some other Asian cities as well, cities like Smyrna.¹¹⁸⁹ Although John was apparently headquartered in Ephesus, the most prominent and strategic city of western Asia Minor, Revelation indicates his concern with the whole region. Of the seven churches addressed in Revelation, two of them seem to be struggling with the precise situation presupposed in the Fourth Gospel: conflict with the synagogue authorities over their identity as Jews. These are the churches in Smyrna and Philadelphia, the only two churches wholly commended for their faithfulness to God.¹¹⁹⁰ Interestingly, Polycarp, a disciple of John, was said to have later suffered martyrdom under Jewish instigation in Smyrna. While John undoubtedly had orally rehearsed much of his Gospels contents in Palestine, and perhaps even written an earlier form of it there, it seems most likely that he addressed it in its present form to Jewish-Christian communities in Smyrna and Philadelphia, during his tenure of ministry in Roman Asia.

If the Fourth Gospel issued from a relatively remote region, this could explain its late acceptance into the Gospel canon of the «orthodox»; such a hypothesis would rule out sites like Antioch or Ephesus for its origin.¹¹⁹¹ But if the Gospel were specifically directed toward a particular community, rather than published for a wider audience, and came to be broadly used by gnostics before the other churches made wide use of it, this delay could have allowed time for the Synoptic Gospel canon to solidify, increasing any resistance to the acceptance of the very different Fourth Gospe1. This would not require us to view the Gospel as a sectarian tract, but it would require us to connect it closely with the situation which elicited it, such a situation as has frequently been proposed for the Fourth Gospe1.

Roman Asia (most likely Ephesus or Smyrna) and Syro-Palestine (most likely Galilee or Antioch) remain the most likely, and widely accepted,¹¹⁹² sites for the Johannine community. While a strong argument could be offered for either position, in this commentary we favor a location in Roman Asia, although substantial elements of the Johannine community's membership may have migrated from Galilee, and some of the situations addressed may be related to Galilee.

Although both «orthodox» and gnostic Christians in the second century laid claim to the Fourth Gospel, many argue that it does not represent a developmental trajectory that clearly leads to either.¹¹⁹³ So distinct does John appear from other options in early Christianity that many have suggested distinct Johannine communities rather than communities where Johannine thought was one valid option among many.¹¹⁹⁴ Given the local governance pattern followed by both synagogues and Christian congregations in the first few centuries, the emergence of diverse forms of Christianity should not be surprising.¹¹⁹⁵ The question, of course, is «How diverse?»¹¹⁹⁶

Was the Johannine community a «sect,» that is, an exclusive movement defined in part by its separation from the larger world?¹¹⁹⁷ To some extent, onés response to this question will be determined by onés definition of the term «sect.» Barrett notes that, while the Gospel is sectarian to a degree, the author was not misinformed about the broader Christian tradition.¹¹⁹⁸ Beasley-Murray also recognizes that there is some truth in the sectarian claim, but avers that John's theology does not suggest isolation from the mainstream of early Christianity, with which it has substantial affinities; like Revelation, it fits into the churches of Asia Minor, which became a primary center of Christianity after the fall of Jerusalem.¹¹⁹⁹ It is hard to imagine the Johannine community existing in the sort of isolation traditionally associated with Qumran or perhaps the Therapeutae,¹²⁰⁰ whereas the Pharisees and Sadducees, which Josephus calls «sects» in most English translations, are not sectarian in the sense in which many current scholars employ the term.

More importantly, the Fourth Gospel differentiates Jesus» followers from the outside «world» no less clearly than did the Essenes,¹²⁰¹ but this is not quite the same as implying that the Johannine Christians saw themselves as distinct from other Christians (if anything, the reverse is true; cf. 10:16; 17:21–23). Our early Christian evidence suggests that nearly all the earliest Christians saw themselves as radically distinct from the world. As Berg puts it, «Though Johannine Christianity may be characterized as "sectarian,» it is by no means isolated from the mainstream of early Christianity.»¹²⁰² John's audience was mainly Jewish and probably continued to maintain Jewish practices¹²⁰³ (thus the familiarity of the festivals); but this was hardly foreign to early Christianity (cf. Acts 18:18; 21:20–27). Thus, for example, Matthew's audience was also «sectarian» vis-à-vis the rest of early Judaism,¹²⁰⁴ but was not so different from the rest of Christianity, most of which still maintained much of its Jewish flavor, that other churches felt uncomfortable using its Gospel; Matthew was the most popular Gospel in the second century. Gospel scholarship has sometimes imagined that behind the Gospel narratives lie isolated geographical enclaves of early Christianity in ancient metropolitan centers, but one gets a quite different impression of the networking of churches from Paul's earlier letters (e.g., 1Cor 1:11; 11:16; see comment on John's knowledge of the Synoptics in ch. 1, above).

Judaism was already separate from the Gentile world, and the early Christians, including those who saw themselves as part of Judaism and participated in temple rites before 70, were separated in an important sense from the rest of Judaism. As one Jewish scholar points out:

… Paul believes, both in the epistles and in Acts, that the only true expression of Judaism includes faith in Christ, that is, Christianity. This is implied too in Lukés portrait of the first Christians. Faith in Christ was not to be an act of pietism for an elite, but was to be the new norm for Judaism. Those Jews who do not accept Christ are sinners. If this is not a sectarian perspective, it certainly is very close to it.¹²⁰⁵

To be sure, in the midst of its commonalities, early Christianity, like modern Christianity, was undoubtedly a more diverse movement than is sometimes supposed. In time the diverse cultures and local customs it embraced produced important variations in Christian practice.¹²⁰⁶ Differences of perspective among various NT authors have long been noted, though some find these differences more significant than others. Käsemann, for instance, thinks that though John changed Jesus into a god,¹²⁰⁷ he allowed much less significance to the people of God, clergy, and other doctrines than was becoming common in his day.¹²⁰⁸ Thus, he argues, the Fourth Gospel is not from the circles of early Christianity normally known to us; it is a relic of Christianity «existing on, or being pushed to, the Church's periphery.»¹²⁰⁹ (We will investigate John's Christology vis-à-vis that of early Christianity in a later chapter.)

Conversely, Dodd holds that the Fourth Gospel is the furthest extant gospel from the historical Jesus tradition, but nevertheless believes that it provides «the most penetrating exposition of its central meaning.»¹²¹⁰ On the whole, Dodd is probably closer to the truth than Käsemann; most of the features Käsemann regards as unique to John were well established within early Christianity by the time John wrote,¹²¹¹ and there is no genuinely clear indication of broken fellowship with the broader Christian community. The differences remain of interest to us, however, as we examine the Fourth Gospel against the backdrop of earlier Christian and especially ancient Jewish thought.

The Sitz im Leben is best reconstructed from the issues the Fourth Gospel addresses, not from its literary forms or other clues.¹²¹² It can, however, be tenuous to reconstruct communities on the basis of texts (such as Brown's reconstruction of the Johannine community in The Community of the Beloved Disciple). «It is at least equally possible that what was transmitted and written provided warrants for criticizing the actual ethos of the church, not simply to justify it … surely the Corinthian letter should have shown us a more complex picture–that the NT contains not simply the precipitates of early Christianity but also trenchant critiques of it.»¹²¹³

This commentary will thus focus more on external issues addressed than the responses, positive or negative, that John's readers may have already offered to those issues (except where those responses are relatively clear from John's own words of correction).

Most of Western Christendom has forgotten the setting which provided even a moderately sectarian (or apocalyptic) movement its appea1. Western Christendom has sometimes appropriated rhetoric originally conceived from the perspective of an oppressed minority to express an oppressive triumphalism,¹²¹⁴ and even persecuted sectarian movements within Western Christendom have usually eventually been assimilated into the socioeconomic mainstream of Western culture in the modern period. But a triumphalist interpretation is an illegitimate appropriation of the text, a counterreading that ignores the ideal audience, a marginalized minority community. Christianity as a faith of the oppressed resonates more with Christians in many Asian, African, and Middle Eastern contexts, and as Christianity becomes an increasingly smaller minority in Western society, the sectarian appeal of early Christianity in general and the Fourth Gospel in particular may increase correspondingly.¹²¹⁵ The Gospel is a useful resource for liberation theology precisely because it originally addressed an oppressed minority community marginalized by a powerful elite.¹²¹⁶

Johannine scholars regularly speak of the «Johannine community» (or possibly more accurately, in view of Rev 2–3, «communities»), which most strictly defined represents «the first real readers of the Fourth Gospe1.»¹²¹⁷ But what is the approximate, basic minimum of cultural information we need to share (as best as possible) with these first readers to begin to hear the Gospel the way they would have heard it?¹²¹⁸

Some elements of the Fourth Gospel presuppose a highly knowledgeable core audience who would catch the Gospels Palestinian cultural and topographic allusions, if not on a first reading then on a subsequent one.¹²¹⁹ Although the Gospels vocabulary is simple, many of its ideas are complex;¹²²⁰ in contrast to its basic message, its deeper message was available only to those who persevered in studying it (cf. 8:31). Yet as Jesus addressed both disciples and crowds, the Gospel is addressed to a broad potential audience.

Besides its theological complexity, the Gospel assumes a Palestinian Jewish cultural competence which not all members of its audience would have possessed.¹²²¹ Craig Koester, developing insights by Alan Culpepper, notes that «The tension between the highly informed reader presupposed by the discourses and the more uninformed reader reflected in the narrator's comments suggests that the final form of the Gospel envisions a heterogeneous readership.»¹²²² Jewish Christians stood at the center of Johns audience, but it may have also included some Samaritans and, on the periphery, some Greeks (12:19–20).¹²²³ Given this situation, understanding how the first audiences may have heard the Gospel requires us first to reconstruct a broader ancient Mediterranean Christian background, and only then to proceed to the hearing anticipated for an ideal audience sensitive to all the nuances of Palestinian Judaism. Thus, for example, Koester argues that a general understanding of the role of shepherds in the ancient Mediterranean world would inform most of Johns audience in 10:1–29, whereas OT allusions would be available for those with more complete knowledge of Scripture.¹²²⁴ In our view, Johns audience was primarily biblically literate, but the younger members probably lacked any firsthand knowledge of the temple and Palestinian festivals; Jerusalem had fallen more than two decades before.

Reconstructing the general milieu of the eastern Mediterranean sheds considerable light on the Fourth Gospel, as on the rest of the NT. Reconstructing a more specific Sitz im Leben, however, is fraught with difficulties. Redaction critics were overconfident about the degree to which modern readers can infer the evangelists» Sitze im Leben from their narratives,¹²²⁵ but we can infer from John at least that he writes for a Jewish audience grappling with its alienation from some respected leaders among their people. Knowledge of the general milieu then allows us to provide some further information. As Burridge suggests, John presumably

belongs within the syncretistic milieu of the eastern Mediterranean towards the close of the first century AD; within such a culture, those involved with its production would have been influenced by both Jewish and Hellenistic philosophical and religious ideas–everything from Platonic thought and proto-Gnosticism to rabbinic or "non-conformist» Judaism–without needing actually to belong to any of these groups. The Jewish-Christian debate and the separation of church and synagogue was [sic] probably a significant factor in the background.¹²²⁶

Thus it is helpful to survey all the proposed backgrounds for the Fourth Gospel, drawing whatever may prove useful from each.

Background proposals can often become too amorphous; for example, images like light, life, Spirit, and water are common in a variety of cultural traditions because of commonalities of human experience, without any direct connection in meaning.¹²²⁷ Clearly some contexts (such as Asian Judaism) are closer to the Gospel's background than others (such as elite North American universities); but there is also the danger of becoming too specific in many cases. John's primary context is late first-century Jewish Christianity in the eastern Mediterranean world. But because our sources are limited and because early Judaism was part of the larger Mediterranean world, we have drawn freely from a wide variety of ancient Mediterranean sources.

Some Hellenistic parallels that scholars in the past have drawn have been overstated. Very diverse phenomena in antiquity (such as divergent views of an afterlife) sometimes appear more similar to us than different only because we work in a post-Industrial Revolution Western context. It is we, rather than the ancient Mediterranean cultures, that are unusual by the long standards of history. Yet for this very reason, broader Mediterranean sources can help illumine for modern scholars the general features of ancient Mediterranean custom, many of which endured over a period of many centuries and over a wide geographical area (often including northern Africa and western Asia), thus enabling Western and other modern readers far removed from that context to understand what ancient audiences took for granted.¹²²⁸

The more specific and detailed the historical context we desire to reconstruct, however, the more cautious we must be concerning the date and character of our sources. To argue that ancient Mediterranean people had legal forums requires little documentation because it differs little from our expectations. To explain the nature of prosecution and advocacy that obtained widely in the ancient Mediterranean requires more documentation, but general documentation may be adequate. To argue that a Jewish-Christian audience might think of divine prosecution and advocacy in terms of particular angelic images, however, would require more specific documentation, preferably (i.e., if possible) within the chronological and geographical range in which the Fourth Gospel was written.

Scholars have proposed so many diverse contexts for the Fourth Gospel that some have despaired of locating its milieu very specifically. Others have become more cautious in postulating a background, demanding a more nuanced and critical approach than in times past. Indeed, by the early 1960s no less a scholar than T. W. Manson complained,

In fact, when one considers the materials cited to explain John, one might well begin to think that John was nothing less than a mirror of the entire culture and religion of the ancient world. I venture to doubt the value of this comparative method, in particular the assumption that because a writer uses the language of Philo, he therefore is a disciple of Philo. It is necessary in every case to look below the surface resemblances and determine whether there is a real correspondence of thought.¹²²⁹

The lack of adequate controls in the comparative method, generally demonstrated in a focus on parallels without adequate examination of the whole context of first-century Mediterranean life, has indeed generated a plethora of positions on the Gospel, which we will survey below.

In the end, however, a position will be persuasive not only because scholars can provide «parallels» to the Fourth Gospel, but because these parallels consistently fit the Fourth Gospel, and belong to a cultural matrix into which this Gospel, written in the late first-century eastern Mediterranean world, is likely to have functioned. Cross-cultural comparisons are strongest where the probabilities of contact and influence are the greatest.¹²³⁰ Thus, for instance, Indian Buddhist background to early Christianity¹²³¹ is far less persuasive than a Palestinian or Diaspora Jewish context. Cross-cultural generalizations among widely diverse cultures can safely be made only after the function of purported parallels in their own cultural contexts has been analyzed. Even where influence is possible, «parallels» may be the result of an analogous response to a common milieu,¹²³² rather than expressing direct dependence on one of the sources cited or on a particular common source. Thus many scholars have echoed Samuel Sandmel's caution against «parallelomania.»¹²³³

A minority of scholars thinks that John s audience was primarily Gentile, thus necessitating his many explanatory asides.¹²³⁴ Such a proposal is, however, improbable. Diaspora Jews two decades after the temples destruction would need explanatory asides no less than «God-fearing» Gentiles, and emigrant Palestinian Jews probably constitute the core (albeit not necessarily or even probably the majority) audience who would teach from the Gospel and explain its message to others. The asides are not sufficient, however, for uninformed Gentiles to catch the Palestinian Jewish allusions without explanation, and would in some cases be missed by all but the core audience. In any case, it appears that Gentile members (of whom there may have been many) understood that they had converted to a form of Judaism, and would view themselves as Jewish in some sense (e.g., 3 John 7).

Yet because Palestinian Judaism was part of the larger Greco-Roman world, it is helpful to examine even the most Palestinian documents in their broadest Mediterranean context. As early Christianity spread throughout the Mediterranean world, it adapted to its environment just as Diaspora Judaism had been doing for centuries.¹²³⁵

The Johannine Epistles move in the same circle as the Gospel, yet exhibit few explicitly Jewish features;¹²³⁶ the Gospel had to be at least partly intelligible within the broader framework of eastern Mediterranean thought. The Hellenistic context of the Gospel is not, however, to be understood apart from Judaism, but as a broader context for Judaism (both Palestinian and, to a greater extent, Diaspora Judaism.)¹²³⁷ Almost everything Hellenistic in this Gospel can be explained in terms of Hellenistic influence already known in early Judaism.¹²³⁸

Some have, however, preferred to read the Gospel in a Greek context apart from its nearer Jewish context. Those who have defended a purely Hellenistic context for the Fourth Gospel have tended to stress Hellenistic features and minimize the Jewish contacts,¹²³⁹ but this methodology is suspect.¹²⁴⁰ Purely Jewish texts regularly betray Hellenistic features, but, apart from syncretistic magical texts, texts that include some strictly Jewish motifs are normally Jewish. Granted, Jewish Palestine was not as hellenized in this period as the Diaspora or as Palestine was a few centuries later,¹²⁴¹ but evidence of hellenization is abundant.¹²⁴² Rabbinic texts, traditionally (albeit inaccurately) considered the epitome of Judaism in Palestine or less hellenized areas farther east,¹²⁴³ often betray Greek language¹²⁴⁴ and culture.¹²⁴⁵ Judaism in Alexandria and elsewhere naturally absorbed and accommodated even more Greek cultural influences.¹²⁴⁶ Many Jewish documents, including at times purely Palestinian Jewish documents, employ Greek interpretive methods.¹²⁴⁷ Jewish texts frequently include elements from Greek mythology,¹²⁴⁸ although these naturally prevail in more hellenized Jewish communities and are sometimes euhemeristic.¹²⁴⁹ Judaism was so thoroughly hellenized that far more obviously Hellenistic elements than probably appear in John do appear in other Jewish documents, even at times in purely Palestinian Jewish documents. Yet the Jewish elements in these documents testify that the documents in question are Jewish, not the work of Greeks. Conversely, Hellenism was not thoroughly Judaized;¹²⁵⁰ Judaism had little direct influence on the Hellenistic world except in the area of magic (and possibly its thoroughgoing emphasis on a supreme deity).¹²⁵¹

Further, scholars have often suggested that Judaism was more assimilated to local pagan culture in some regions than in others,¹²⁵² although Diaspora Judaism was on the whole no more «lax» than Palestinian.¹²⁵³ Thus even the most Hellenistic reading of John s «Hellenism» could be Jewish Hellenism, and while late first century Asian Christianity was certainly not purely Jewish, the Gentiles in the congregations had no doubt become familiar with Judaism and accustomed to Jewish thought, either before or after their conversion.¹²⁵⁴ Thus plainly Jewish elements in a document such as the Fourth Gospel indicate its Jewish milieu, whereas «Hellenistic» elements do not call into question such a proposed milieu.¹²⁵⁵

Arguments offered against the Jewishness of the Gospel are without merit. Thus, for example, some suggest that because John at times includes both a Greek and a Hebrew title (5:2; 19:13,17; 20:16; cf. 1:38,41–42,9:7; 19:20) he must have written primarily to Greeks. Yet the conclusion hardly follows from the data: John is the only extant evangelist to use Έβραίστί in his Gospel; although Mark employs and translates Aramaic (Mark 5:41; 7:34; 15:22, 34; cf. Matt 27:46), John uses more Semitic terms. Granted, some Diaspora Jews knew the title «Rabbi» (presumably most in Matthews circle did); but many would not (see comment on 1:38); some scholars assume that all would know «messiah,» but in the entire NT only John (not even Matthew) employs the Semitic term (1:41; 4:25). To make Johns audience primarily Greek on the basis of his translations would make Matthew's audience still more Greek. Rather, one need simply assume that John's anticipated audience includes many Jewish people whose primary language is Greek–the situation of most Diaspora Jews.

Likewise, arguing the Fourth Gospel's non-Jewishness on the basis of its «negative» attitude toward Judaism¹²⁵⁶ ignores the fact that Matthew¹²⁵⁷ and, more tellingly, the Dead Sea Scrolls¹²⁵⁸ complain about the centralized authorities of Judaism, too.¹²⁵⁹ Similarly, the proposal that the Fourth Gospel's author was a Gentile on the basis of his historiographie style (reading the events of his day into the life of Jesus)¹²⁶⁰ is wide of the mark. Purpose and consequent tendentiousness also characterized Jewish historiography from this period, such as Josephus's works, more so the allegorical theological biography of Philo, and the anachronism of most ancient haggadic works which remain extant; Jewish historiography was normally intensely theologica1.

Most specific Greek backgrounds, while helpful in some respects, prove no more promising as the central context for this Gospe1. Classical literature was widely read in Greco-Roman antiquity, probably even by the more well-to-do and hellenized Jews in Asian cities such as Sardis. Thus allusions to Homer could be incorporated into public life without explanation.¹²⁶¹

To the extent that classical literature informs our perspective on the milieu, it is part of the context of the Fourth Gospel;¹²⁶² yet it is hardly the most significant element. Even some of Lukés classical allusions may derive from Jewish quotation manuals,¹²⁶³ and John moves in a much less classically and rhetorically informed setting than Luke does. Moreover, both Jewish and Hellenistic elements in the Gospel can be explained from the standpoint of Diaspora Judaism, and classical Greek literature is not the most significant context for most first-century Jewish texts apart from the extremely hellenized upper class in Alexandria, which sought to prove its Hellenism to the Greek citizens of that polis.

Others have proposed a significant influence from Hellenistic philosophy on the Gospel, although recognizing that it is a document of religious propaganda rather than a philosophical treatise.¹²⁶⁴ Some have more specifically suggested that popular (as opposed to academic) Stoicism is a background for the Fourth Gospe1.¹²⁶⁵ To the extent that Stoicism permeated the broader culture, it was a viable influence on the world of John; but echoes of even popular Stoicism are far less frequent in the Fourth Gospel than they are, say, in Pau1. John and, presumably, his readers¹²⁶⁶ move in a thought world noticeably different from Paul's.

Few still hold the view, articulated more often in earlier times, that the Fourth Gospel's primary audience is Gentile.¹²⁶⁷ But this does not suggest that the Gospel's audience is entirely Jewish by birth. Given the earlier cooperation and exhortations to unity of Jewish and Gentile Christians in Asia Minor (e.g., Acts 19:10, 17; Eph. 2:11–22; 3:1–6), it is possible that the Johannine community includes ethnic Gentiles as well as Jews. At the same time, the community views itself as Jewish (cf. 3 John 7; see below under «the Jews»), like the churches symbolized by menoroth in Revelation;¹²⁶⁸ Gentile members view themselves as converts and now full participants in the true remnant of Israel (what outsiders perceived as a Jewish sect).

Brown proposes a «Gentile component» to account for John's translations of «messiah» and «rabbi,» «terms which no Jews, even those who spoke only Greek, would have failed to understand.»¹²⁶⁹ But while Jewish communities today are familiar with both terms, the same need not have been true of Jewish communities in antiquity. Inscriptions indicate that most Diaspora communities knew little Hebrew or Aramaic.¹²⁷⁰ Granted, the Semitic title «rabbi» is attested in the Diaspora,¹²⁷¹ but this is quite rare and dates to a later period; the title does not appear to have been standard even in Palestine until some time after 70 C.E., although it occurs and the office so designated existed.¹²⁷² Further, if the scholarly conjecture that the Jewish controversy over a certain «Chrestus» in Rome refers to a controversy over the messiah,¹²⁷³ it is significant that Greek-speaking Jews in mid-first century Rome referred to the messiah by the terms Greek translation «Christos» which was no less incomprehensible to outsiders.

The mention of «Greeks» (7:35; 12:20) could refer to Diaspora Jews; if, as is more likely, it refers to ethnic Gentiles, it could represent John s summons to the community to embrace Gentile churches as easily as it could mean Gentiles in the Johannine community.¹²⁷⁴ The potential ambiguity of these passages provides a warning to those who wish to emphasize the probable Gentile component of the community. Although it is intrinsically likely that the community included a Gentile component, the lack of clearer evidence to that effect in the text is a significant indicator as to just how Jewish the Christianity of the Fourth Gospel's readers was. Based on one reading of Acts, some scholars even think that Jewish Christians remained dominant in the church through the end of the first century.¹²⁷⁵ Whether or not they remained numerically dominant (I am inclined to think they did not), they certainly remained socially and ideologically dominant.

Probably the Gentile Christians viewed themselves the way Gentile adherents to synagogues typically did: as God-fearing adherents of an ethnically Jewish religion proclaiming the universal worship of the true God. Evidence suggests a large number of such «God-fearers» in eastern Mediterranean synagogues who were not full (circumcized) proselytes; despite objections, «God-fearers» seems to have been a common title for them.¹²⁷⁶

Some scholars, most notably J. Edgar Bruns, have proposed Buddhist connections with the Fourth Gospe1. Bruns points out that many parallels that others have alleged between John and gnosticism can be drawn more strongly between John and Mahayana Buddhism, and Buddhism existed much earlier than developed gnosticism did.¹²⁷⁷ While there might be merit in Bruns» contention that Buddhism's apparent points of contact with the Fourth Gospel are greater than those of gnosticism are, this will hardly carry much weight with those unpersuaded of the strength of the gnostic parallels. Yet this is arguably the strongest part of his case.

It would be unfair to dismiss his position a priori, however; chronologically, influence is possible, and geographically it is unlikely but not impossible.¹²⁷⁸ After the conquests of Alexander of Macedon, whose successors even held territory near the Punjab for a time,¹²⁷⁹ northwest Indian Buddhist philosophy seems to have interacted with Hellenistic thought,¹²⁸⁰ and some Greek thinkers were in contact with Indian thinkers (though some may have been Hindu).¹²⁸¹ Much was rumored and known about India,¹²⁸² and not only mercantile¹²⁸³ but also philosophical and religious ties¹²⁸⁴ existed. Trajan's conquests in the early second century expanded Roman influence to Indiás borders.¹²⁸⁵ Connections between Indian texts and various Jewish documents are thus possible, though proposed examples¹²⁸⁶ are almost certainly coincidence based on shared themes and images from a somewhat related milieu.

While this context for the Fourth Gospel is not impossible, however, it is extremely unlikely in view of a broader understanding of Mediterranean antiquity. As a comparison of the Fourth Gospel with a first-century Jewish environment makes clear, this Gospel addresses Jewish issues in a Greek-speaking Mediterranean context. All supposed parallels with Buddhism are more easily explained by a Greco-Roman (usually Jewish) context. Further, the Roman Empire had connections with many other regions, including Parthia, Ethiopia, Germany, and even China;¹²⁸⁷ at least some of these regions (certainly Persian thought in Parthia) generated influences closer at hand than those of Indian Buddhism. Nor was Buddhism the only philosophical alternative available among Indian contacts at the time. Finally, some of the connections could actually be Buddhist borrowings from the Fourth Gospel¹²⁸⁸ (whose tradition was taken eastward by Nestorian Christians), although these, too, are distant enough to represent coincidence.

Early in the twentieth century, under the influence of such prestigious scholars as Reitzenstein, the Johannine literature was viewed against the specific backdrop of the mystery cults. For instance, one scholar sought to explain the connection among the different Johannine writings by an analogy from elements in the mystery religions.¹²⁸⁹

This view is more credible in its more modern, nuanced form. Thus, Howard Clark Kee argues that Jewish wisdom tradition is shaped by Isis mysticism, and that John writes for the kind of people attracted to the type of mysticism in the Isis cult.¹²⁹⁰ Ernst Käsemann concedes that Bousset's evaluation of the data «may to a large extent be the product of his age, inadequate or even wrong,» though Käsemann himself concurs with «the atmosphere of a Christian mystery-community which permeates John.»¹²⁹¹ Some mystery religions penetrated Gentile communities in Roman Palestine,¹²⁹² and many Jewish circles were both familiar with¹²⁹³ and sometimes confused with some mystery religions.¹²⁹⁴

But while Johns readers undoubtedly share an eclectic religious environment which included influences from the mystery cults, there are no elements in the Fourth Gospel which it shares only with these cults, whereas there are elements it shares only with Judaism. Its minor parallels with the Mysteries simply reflect the general participation of both sources of religious experience in a common religious milieu. It is useful to produce parallels which shed light on their common milieu; pointing to these parallels as uniquely significant, however, indicates inadequate information concerning other ancient Mediterranean sources. As Smalley observes, «It is doubtful if in the end the Fourth Gospel overlapped at all with the religious outlook of the Greek mysteries.»¹²⁹⁵

The view that the Fourth Gospel is in some sense connected with gnosticism is very old. Gnostics probably found the Gospel useful in part because it provided them a sense of continuity with the apostolic past;¹²⁹⁶ once they had begun to use it, they were able to link many of their ideas with the Gospe1.¹²⁹⁷ Irenaeus, who was battling gnostics who used the Fourth Gospel, shrewdly argued that John wrote this Gospel as a polemic against them.¹²⁹⁸ Some of his orthodox predecessors, however, probably mistrusted the Gospel because of its usefulness in gnostic circles.¹²⁹⁹ By Irenaeuss day, the Gospel had become a battleground between gnostics and orthodox,¹³⁰⁰ and so was understood by many twentieth-century scholars as wel1. Yet it is doubtful that the churches were still thinking much of the Gospel's original life-setting by the middle of the second century.¹³⁰¹ Not distinguishing between the first context and their own application, the later church probably read the gnostic controversies of its day into John the way it read them into Simon the sorcerer in Acts 8:9–11.¹³⁰²

In the twentieth century Bultmanns 1925 list of parallels between John and gnosticism influenced much subsequent scholarship.¹³⁰³ This view remained dominant in German critical scholarship for much of the century; thus Kümmel declares that the real religion behind John, the Hermetica, and Philo is gnosticism,¹³⁰⁴ and Conzelmann that gnosticism is the best background for the Fourth Gospel even though John lacks much of gnosticism's mythology.¹³⁰⁵ Such perspectives particularly flourished in continental scholarship during a period of relative disregard for Jewish backgrounds that would be far less popular today;¹³⁰⁶ but this observation does not excuse us from surveying the data.

Scholars have interpreted the alleged gnostic connections of the Fourth Gospel in various ways. Many have pointed to gnostic parallels with John's language, but not all concur as to the significance of this language.¹³⁰⁷ Bultmann felt that the Gospel used gnostic language but its theology was antignostic,¹³⁰⁸ and many scholars have followed this position. Käsemann held that the document was docetic, but internal evidence within the Gospel calls this approach into question,¹³⁰⁹ and Bornkamm protested that it anachronistically read later categories into the first century.¹³¹⁰ Some have suggested that the Gospel betrays gnostic tendencies which were toned down by an orthodox redactor;¹³¹¹ or that the Gospel was more like the OT until corrupted by gnostic redaction contradicting the rest of the text.¹³¹² More popular in recent times is the view that John includes a sort of protognosticism, «an early stage in the emergence of motifs that had a later flowering in Gnosticism.»¹³¹³ This explains how both the gnostics of the early second century and the author of 1 John, who may be polemicizing against incipient gnosticism, could have used the Gospe1.

Yet none of John's purportedly gnostic (or antignostic) traits are limited to gnosticism. Granted, John develops his themes by means of an antithetical,¹³¹⁴ frequently vertical,¹³¹⁵ dualism.¹³¹⁶ Dualism can indeed be a gnostic trait,¹³¹⁷ but it also occurs in earlier Hellenism, Zoroastrianism, and the ancient Near East.¹³¹⁸ More importantly, it pervades Jewish thought, most clearly at Qumran, and ethical dualism is prominent in the Jewish wisdom tradition.¹³¹⁹ (The Qumran scrolls share the same sort of ethical dualism that pervades the Fourth Gospel, except that the law is the dividing line of humanity for the Scrolls, whereas Jesus performs this function in the Gospe1.)¹³²⁰ Not only apocalyptic writing, where it is dominant,¹³²¹ but even rabbinic haggadah¹³²² employs the language of vertical dualism for moral dualism similar to John's. In view of the moral dualism of the Scrolls and the vertical dualism of apocalyptic traditions, dualism can hardly be used as a certain indicator of Gnosticism. Such dualistic images naturally existed, sometimes in eschatological contexts, in Diaspora Christianity as in early Judaism (e.g., 2Cor 5:2; Gal 4:26; Jas 1:17; 3:17; Luke 1:78); the contrast is pervasive in Revelation (e.g., Rev 3:12; 5:13; 12:8–9),¹³²³ which we with many other scholars attribute to the Johannine community.

The Gospel's dualism, such as the contrast between «below» and «above,» the equivalent of «of this world» and «not of this world» (8:23), communicate a peculiarly Johannine message. In the language of twentieth-century theology, John's God is «wholly other»; though he invades the world in Jesus Christ (3:17), the world is not like him (10:36), and those who are sanctified to be like him (17:17) are also not of the world (17:16–18). All people are born from and bear the nature of either God or the devil (1:13; 3:3–5; 8:44). John could adapt dualistic language widespread in his culture, but the use to which he puts it serves his critique of his opponents» religion: only religion born from the Spirit, deriving from God himself, can please God (3:5–6; 4:23–24; 6:63).¹³²⁴

Further, even if John were addressing docetic thought, this would not allow us to assume that he addresses what developed into second-century gnosticism. Mediterranean literature as early as Homer reports deities disguising themselves (or others) as various mortals or changing into various shapes, and these features of divine disguises¹³²⁵ and mutations¹³²⁶ continue to appear in later literature. But such images prove far from the Jewish world of thought in which John moves. Jesus does not disguise himself as a mortal, but, pace Käsemann, becomes one (1:14).¹³²⁷

John may thus adapt basic themes from early Judaism and Christianity that were later developed by gnosticism.¹³²⁸ Extant gnostic works betray knowledge of earlier Christian works, depending on documents like the Fourth Gospel rather than influencing them.¹³²⁹ Because gnosticism was not monolithic, and our evidence for it derives from diverse sources, some sources are more helpful than others in determining the earliest contours of gnosticism.

Yet even some of the earliest gnostic works (e.g., many of the Nag Hammadi materials)¹³³⁰ are of uncertain value in our study of the Fourth Gospe1. Parallels with the Gospel of Thomas, for instance, may indicate borrowings from the Fourth Gospel, which was appropriated early by the gnostics, or from a source which used the Fourth Gospe1.¹³³¹ That the Fourth Gospel was popular among the gnostics does not prove its affinity with their thought, however; they looted Paul's writings as wel1.¹³³²

The Gospel of Thomas and many other early gnostic texts found in the Nag Hammadi corpus depend on Christian tradition. Those texts which do not might presuppose Christian influence by virtue of the collection in which they appear. Despite the contention of many scholars that these texts preserve pre-Christian gnostic tradition,¹³³³ the clear Christian influence in many of these texts shifts the burden of proof to the defender of this thesis. Regardless of proposed antecedents, the gnosticism found in these documents is from the Christian period and at times clearly polemicizes against Christian «orthodoxy.»¹³³⁴ The extant texts, therefore, do not prove a clear pre-Christian gnosticism.¹³³⁵ This is not to say that they cannot reflect elements of Christian thought prominent by the Johannine period; some Christians were probably already moving in this direction by the end of the first century. Nor is it to deny that many of their non-Christian elements are pre-Christian. But these other elements can be explained without recourse to specifically gnostic materials, and the parallels to John, which are mainly in language, also reflect the language of Hellenistic Jewish documents from this period as a whole (e.g., Philo; Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs; Joseph and Aseneth); John's thinking is, in fact, much farther from gnosticism than Philós is.

Some scholars have depended especially on parallels between John and the texts of the Hermetic corpus.¹³³⁶ Dodd confidently affirmed that «as a whole they represent a type of religious thought akin to one side of Johannine thought, without any substantial borrowing on the one part or the other.»¹³³⁷ Although the Hermetica per se are not pre-Christian, some scholars have argued that they presuppose an earlier pagan gnosticism.¹³³⁸ They seem to reflect an underlying «fusion of Platonism and Stoicism,»¹³³⁹ even more pronounced than in Philo. Dodd, who cites many parallels to John from the Hermetica,¹³⁴⁰ does not argue for a substantial borrowing from either side,¹³⁴¹ although some scholars are less convinced that Hermetic texts have not borrowed from John or Johannine tradition.¹³⁴² Scholars most familiar with the documents do not date them before the Christian period,¹³⁴³ and it seems precarious to presuppose that the Hermetica do not betray some Christian influence, and then proceed to draw parallels with early Christian texts.

Many of the parallels with the Hermetic literature appear to be significant and at least could reflect a common milieu;¹³⁴⁴ but perhaps equally significant are parallels that are missing. The most significant Hermetic terms, such as «γνώσις, μυστήριον, αθανασία and δημιουργός,» are missing from the Fourth Gospel, and this «suggests that it is not as dependent on the Hermetica as we might suppose.»¹³⁴⁵ Whereas only about 4 percent of Johns words do not appear in the LXX, 60 percent of Johns words do not appear in the Hermetica.¹³⁴⁶ This suggests that Johns vocabulary is derived primarily from the Jewish Bible in its Greek form.¹³⁴⁷

Although Mandaean specialists warn against uncritical use of the texts,¹³⁴⁸ some scholars have argued that the Mandaeans¹³⁴⁹ preserved pre-Christian religious traditions.¹³⁵⁰ Bultmann found in Mandaism an analogy to the background of the Fourth Gospe1.¹³⁵¹ Because Mandaism in its extant history is non-Christian, some scholars have argued that its John the Baptist traditions must be independent of Christianity.¹³⁵² It is more likely, however, that like other sects that preserve teachings of the «orthodox» groups from which they seceded, Mandaism may have preserved as well as reacted, and may thus reflect Christian influence.¹³⁵³ Iranian and Manichaean influences of course also contribute elements of Mandaean thought,¹³⁵⁴ though the suggested Qumran influence¹³⁵⁵ is unlikely.

The evidence for Mandaic belief is quite late–beginning around the seventh century C.E.¹³⁵⁶–and earlier materials are rare. The earliest extant text is on an amulet from ca. 400 C.E., and after this the earliest texts are on magic bowls from ca. 600.¹³⁵⁷ Taylors critique of a Mandaic background for John is thus too weak. He held that the Mandean parallels to the Fourth Gospel were not close enough to suggest dependence either way;¹³⁵⁸ both drew independently on common «forms, symbols and figures, and to some extent of ideas as wel1.»¹³⁵⁹ But many of the Mandean parallels are close enough to suggest dependence–of the Mandean legends on Christian traditions derived from the Fourth Gospe1. As early as 1931, F. C. Burkitt pointed out that this body of literature does not predate Islam; its evidence cannot be used to reconstruct a religious movement to which John was reacting at the end of the first century!¹³⁶⁰ As Dodd pointed out, critiquing Reitzenstein and Bultmann, the value of Mandean literature for Johannine research is questionable

since it is hazardous, in the presence of obvious and pervasive Christian influence, to use any part of it as direct evidence for a pre-Christian cult or mythology. It now becomes an addition to the fairly voluminous literature of Gnosticism … yet an addition, for our purposes, of limited value, because of the late date to which most of it must be attributed, coming down well into the Islamic period.¹³⁶¹

The lateness of Mandean sources and their now widely agreed dependence on Christian traditions has rendered Bultmann's hypotheses based on them untenable.¹³⁶² As Meier notes, the Mandean hypothesis is widely dismissed today.¹³⁶³ Bultmann's use of such geographically and chronologically remote sources may support what E. R Sanders» critique of his use of Jewish sources (primarily dependent on Strack-Billerbeck) has similarly implied: Bultmann's stature as a scholar of late antiquity has been overrated, and his enormous influence in NT studies undue.¹³⁶⁴ Of course, it is too easy to critique scholars of past eras. In any event, Mandaism contributes nothing to our understanding of the Fourth Gospe1.¹³⁶⁵

Some suppose that both Jewish and gnostic addressees are in view,¹³⁶⁶ but Ockham's Razor–the principle that the simplest solution that explains all the evidence is usually the best–minimizes the appeal of such a solution. The Jewish evidence is sufficient to explain the Fourth Gospel's context by itself. John could, however, address a single front, composed of gnosticizing Judaism or a Jewish gnosis. This view is held by Kümmel¹³⁶⁷ and others.¹³⁶⁸

Ultimately, the issue is partly decided by onés definition of gnosticism. The Gospel can be fully explained without any recourse to later gnostic sources; but that certain ideas which later surfaced in gnosticism were part of the general religious milieu in which John's readers lived is undeniable. These traits by themselves do not comprise developed gnosticism, however. Gnosticism is a blend of Jewish, Christian, and middle Platonic elements, and there are few noticeable clear middle Platonic elements in the Fourth Gospel, whose thought-world is far more popular and traditionally Jewish than that.

Jewish elements in gnosticism¹³⁶⁹ are sufficient to warrant a removal of the old premise of a demarcation between all Judaism and gnosticism; it can no longer be held with greater rigidity than a precise demarcation between Christian orthodoxy and Christian gnosticism.¹³⁷⁰ But this does not warrant reading later gnostic tendencies back into earlier Jewish texts (with or without «gnosticizing» tendencies of their own). Qumran, for instance, may have some dualistic roots in Iranian thought,¹³⁷¹ but while it helps explain certain features of incipient gnosticism, it is not «gnostic» in the fully developed sense.¹³⁷²

Some ideas in the Fourth Gospel may find parallels in Jewish mysticism,¹³⁷³ which may have been one of the formative influences in gnosticism.¹³⁷⁴ Mysticism as broadly defined appeared in Hellenistic religion and Hellenistic Judaism,¹³⁷⁵ but it also appears in later rabbinic Judaism, which sometimes had to guard against it.¹³⁷⁶ Esoteric teachings surrounding creation¹³⁷⁷ and mystical experiences regarding the throne-chariot,¹³⁷⁸ derived from Gen 1 and from Ezek 1 and 10 respectively, were focuses of the revelatory quests¹³⁷⁹–seeing the glory of the invisible God and understanding his inscrutable works.¹³⁸⁰ This could lead to destruction for those inadequately prepared for it.¹³⁸¹ Rabbinic thought ultimately adopted some elements of mysticism, while keeping it from the mainstream of rabbinic teaching;¹³⁸² responsibility to the community remained the primary focus,¹³⁸³ and rabbis emphasized prayer and study for all Jews rather than mystical elitism.¹³⁸⁴

Some mystical elements are clearly prerabbinic¹³⁸⁵ and exist in the Tannaitic stratum of rabbinic literature (in less developed form than in Amoraic literature).¹³⁸⁶ It is possible that some emphases in the Fourth Gospel, such as Jesus as the only one who has seen heaven (John 3:13) and as the sole locus for vision of the divine (1:18; 14:8–9), were offered to counter contemporary claims in Jewish mysticism.¹³⁸⁷ But esoteric Judaism is not gnosticism in the precise sense of the latter term, and cannot warrant reading later gnostic developments back into an earlier period.¹³⁸⁸ Thus, for instance, despite the parallels between mystical tendencies in the Dead Sea Scrolls and gnosticism, both merely reflect common elements of their milieu;¹³⁸⁹ in contrast to gnosticism, no early recorded form of Jewish mysticism eliminated the demarcation between Creator and created.¹³⁹⁰

Many respected scholars have argued for a pre-Christian, pagan gnosticism,¹³⁹¹ but today an increasing number of them admit the scarcity of the evidence.¹³⁹² While «gnosticizing» tendencies as broadly defined clearly exist in pre-Christian middle Platonic and related traditions, the features unique to Christian gnosticism do not appear in any texts prior to the spread of Christianity.

Gnosticism's roots are manifold: magical literature,¹³⁹³ middle Platonism,¹³⁹⁴ Mysteries,¹³⁹⁵ and, as noted above, probably «realized» Jewish apocalyptic.¹³⁹⁶ But alongside other elements in gnosticism, the Christian element is also clear in all extant bodies of gnostic literature.¹³⁹⁷ Many scholars now recognize that the primary debate concerning pre-Christian gnosticism thus centers on the definition of gnosticism.¹³⁹⁸ «Gnostic trajectories»¹³⁹⁹ may well have existed, but it is still circular reasoning to merge semantical categories (broad gnostic-type thought and gnosticism as more strictly defined) without regard to historical development. If it is questionable to argue that all «gnosticism» is pre-Christian because pre-Christian gnosticizing tendencies exist, it is even more illogical to asume that later Christian gnosticism is thus valid as NT background.¹⁴⁰⁰

This applies particularly to the «gnostic redeemer» myth, often cited as pre-Christian¹⁴⁰¹ background for the Fourth Gospe1.¹⁴⁰² There is no evidence for the full myth in pre-Christian times,¹⁴⁰³ and the elements which do appear (heroes or gods who can travel between heaven and earth or experience apotheosis at an ascension) are in no way specifically gnostic; indeed, parallels exist even in Jewish apocalyptic visionary ascents.¹⁴⁰⁴ Conzelmann has argued that Qumran s parallels to the Fourth Gospel are too weak, since they have no redeemer figure;¹⁴⁰⁵ but there is no evidence for a pre-Christian gnostic redeemer anywhere else, either.

Of course, gnosticism need not be pre-Christian to be pre-Johannine, and it is not at all impossible that tendencies toward gnosticism were already creating problems for the Johannine community (cf. 1–3 John). After all, the Gospel was accepted among the «heterodox»¹⁴⁰⁶ before it was clearly¹⁴⁰⁷ cited by the «orthodox.» But the usage of key terms such as verbal cognates of γνώσις is far enough removed from gnostic usage to suggest that it has not yet become the consuming issue in the community that it would be in the early to mid-second century.¹⁴⁰⁸

Some have suggested Samaritan influence on the transmission of traditions or final redaction of the Fourth Gospe1.¹⁴⁰⁹ Few would argue, however, that the Samaritans are John's primary audience, and it is tenuous to assert that their presence in the Gospel makes them part of its original audience at all (cf. Luke 10:33–37; 17:11–19; Acts 1:8, 8:1–25, for Lukés Samaritan audience?). Perhaps Jesus» Samaritan ministry was simply about as close to the Gentile mission as John and Luke could come in their sources.

There is a further, practical problem with appealing to a «Samaritan background» for the Fourth Gospel: nearly all our sources for Samaritan theology are quite late–generally medieva1. It is quite precarious to reconstruct Samaritan theology in the first century and use it as a backdrop for Christian documents which long precede the extant Samaritan sources and could have influenced them. We cannot deny the possibility of some Samaritan Christian thought in the Johannine community or among those who influenced it. But we lack sufficient evidence to make it a primary context of the Gospe1.

Thus we turn to the Jewish context for the Fourth Gospe1. In its variant forms, this has become the prevailing view of John's Sitz im Leben, and not without good reason.