John 8:12-16
Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” Then the Pharisees said to him, “You are testifying on your own behalf; your testimony is not valid.” Jesus answered, “Even if I testify on my own behalf, my testimony is valid because I know where I have come from and where I am going, but you do not know where I come from or where I am going. You judge by human standards; I judge no one. Yet even if I do judge, my judgment is valid; for it is not I alone who judge, but I and the Father who sent me.
Last week we began with a general introduction to the Gospel according to John – the third gospel to appear in written form and the one “oddball” among the four gospel accounts. Before we move along I feel the need to insert an editorial reminder that most of the information I’m passing along in this series comes from Marcus Borg and especially his book Evolution of the Word. While I am using other sources, the bulk of this series comes from Marc Borg.
Last week I introduced the idea that John – whoever he might have been – was a diaspora Jew living in a Greek-influenced time and place, and we talked about the difference Greek language and thought made in John’s imagery and metaphors.
This is strongly apparent in the series of teachings we call the “I Am” stories, which are found only in this particular gospel. One of the most noticeable of the differences in John’s writing is the use of archetypal imagery. Jewish writers used archetypes, as well, but with much less frequency and perhaps with less awareness. The first image in the bible - the chaos that was before creation - is an ancient archetype signifying dissolution or un-being. Being comes with order and stability – without order and stability there is only death and Un-Being. We all, at some level of awareness, recognize and respond to this truth.
Because that’s what archetypes are - universal symbols that call up something deep and often unconscious from us humans - and this happens across cultures and times. Take for instance a circle. In almost every culture throughout time the circle form has signified eternity. Our wedding rings are, supposedly, our eternal promise. Evergreen wreaths at Christmas time symbolize God’s eternal, unending presence with us.
The ouroboros, which you may have seen somewhere but not known what it was you saw, is a symbol of a snake devouring its own tail, curled around into a circle to do so. It is an ancient symbol for infinity - a circle with no beginning and no ending. We may not 'get' why we are looking at a snake devouring itself, but we do somehow get that this is a depiction of eternity - no end, no beginning. This is one of those symbols that speaks to us across cultures whether we are aware of it or not.
The “I Am” stories are each based on a different archetypal image. The reading we began with today may be the most common archetype - Light vs. Darkness. Again, Jewish writers used this – think of the great promises out of Isaiah that we read at Advent time: the people that walked in darkness have seen a great light, or the star in the sky that guided the Magi. In Matthew, Jesus tells his followers that they are the light of the world.
But only in John does Jesus announce that he is the light. “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” And again, in the next chapter, after Jesus cures the man born blind he tells the people “As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” Without what Jesus offers us we are lost and blind. With him, we see – with the eyes of the body and the eyes of the spirit.
“I am the bread of life,” again uses another archetypal image, that of bread as those things that feed us, whether our hunger is spiritual or physical. Jesus offers himself to feed us whatever we lack.
“I am the good shepherd” who leads his sheep to safety and plenty, Jesus tells us, but also “I am the gate” by which they may safely enter the sheepfold. Gates and doorways are strong archetypal images having to do with crossing over from one plane of existence into another – liminal places where, once having crossed, we are never the same.
Coming of age ceremonies in many cultures employ the crossing of an actual threshold to illustrate the young person’s change in status even if it is only a stick on the ground. In England many older churches had a lychgate - a covered platform outside the church grounds where the deceased’s body rested until it was carried into the church for the ceremony that would send the recently dead into their new eternal life, with the blessing of the church. Jesus, John claims, is not only the shepherd who guides us to the gate, he is the gateway himself.
“I am the way, the truth, and the life.” This is one of the trickier “I am” sayings because it has been read, all too often through the years, to mean “I am the ONLY way,” and used to state that those who come to God by any other means are not truly “saved.” Jesus does not say "the only way" and I don’t believe that this is what Jesus ever meant because nothing else we ever hear from Jesus is used to exclude and shut-out.
In John’s gospel, God’s self – the Word – is enfleshed in Jesus. For us to believe that what we humans are capable of understanding of Jesus is all there is to see is pure arrogance to my thinking. God's love is so much greater than our understanding. Jesus is all about invitation – in the synoptics and in John. Jesus offers himself as the way - and God’s Way is far greater than our limited capacity to take it in. I don’t think it behooves us to try to place limits on God’s way, and Jesus does not demand that this form is the only way possible.
And finally, Jesus is “the life.” And what is the opposite of life but death? Death is that which is sealed in a tomb and decays. Death is un-being. The life that is Jesus is the polar opposite – life in all it’s fullness. Be-ing. Be-ing with God, and in God, and for God, and by God's desire. Be-ing greater than we can comprehend.
These archetypal images are powerful and they touch something deep inside of us. They are part of why John’s gospel speaks to us so powerfully. People have been captivated by the richness and beauty of John’s language for centuries. This gospel is less a historical narrative and more an evocation of the richness and majesty – the depth and the glory – that is Jesus and God’s love for the world.
We’ll come back to John again next week because there is still a great deal for us to uncover.
Last week I introduced the idea that John – whoever he might have been – was a diaspora Jew living in a Greek-influenced time and place, and we talked about the difference Greek language and thought made in John’s imagery and metaphors.
This is strongly apparent in the series of teachings we call the “I Am” stories, which are found only in this particular gospel. One of the most noticeable of the differences in John’s writing is the use of archetypal imagery. Jewish writers used archetypes, as well, but with much less frequency and perhaps with less awareness. The first image in the bible - the chaos that was before creation - is an ancient archetype signifying dissolution or un-being. Being comes with order and stability – without order and stability there is only death and Un-Being. We all, at some level of awareness, recognize and respond to this truth.
Because that’s what archetypes are - universal symbols that call up something deep and often unconscious from us humans - and this happens across cultures and times. Take for instance a circle. In almost every culture throughout time the circle form has signified eternity. Our wedding rings are, supposedly, our eternal promise. Evergreen wreaths at Christmas time symbolize God’s eternal, unending presence with us.
The ouroboros, which you may have seen somewhere but not known what it was you saw, is a symbol of a snake devouring its own tail, curled around into a circle to do so. It is an ancient symbol for infinity - a circle with no beginning and no ending. We may not 'get' why we are looking at a snake devouring itself, but we do somehow get that this is a depiction of eternity - no end, no beginning. This is one of those symbols that speaks to us across cultures whether we are aware of it or not.
The “I Am” stories are each based on a different archetypal image. The reading we began with today may be the most common archetype - Light vs. Darkness. Again, Jewish writers used this – think of the great promises out of Isaiah that we read at Advent time: the people that walked in darkness have seen a great light, or the star in the sky that guided the Magi. In Matthew, Jesus tells his followers that they are the light of the world.
But only in John does Jesus announce that he is the light. “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” And again, in the next chapter, after Jesus cures the man born blind he tells the people “As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” Without what Jesus offers us we are lost and blind. With him, we see – with the eyes of the body and the eyes of the spirit.
“I am the bread of life,” again uses another archetypal image, that of bread as those things that feed us, whether our hunger is spiritual or physical. Jesus offers himself to feed us whatever we lack.
“I am the good shepherd” who leads his sheep to safety and plenty, Jesus tells us, but also “I am the gate” by which they may safely enter the sheepfold. Gates and doorways are strong archetypal images having to do with crossing over from one plane of existence into another – liminal places where, once having crossed, we are never the same.
Coming of age ceremonies in many cultures employ the crossing of an actual threshold to illustrate the young person’s change in status even if it is only a stick on the ground. In England many older churches had a lychgate - a covered platform outside the church grounds where the deceased’s body rested until it was carried into the church for the ceremony that would send the recently dead into their new eternal life, with the blessing of the church. Jesus, John claims, is not only the shepherd who guides us to the gate, he is the gateway himself.
“I am the way, the truth, and the life.” This is one of the trickier “I am” sayings because it has been read, all too often through the years, to mean “I am the ONLY way,” and used to state that those who come to God by any other means are not truly “saved.” Jesus does not say "the only way" and I don’t believe that this is what Jesus ever meant because nothing else we ever hear from Jesus is used to exclude and shut-out.
In John’s gospel, God’s self – the Word – is enfleshed in Jesus. For us to believe that what we humans are capable of understanding of Jesus is all there is to see is pure arrogance to my thinking. God's love is so much greater than our understanding. Jesus is all about invitation – in the synoptics and in John. Jesus offers himself as the way - and God’s Way is far greater than our limited capacity to take it in. I don’t think it behooves us to try to place limits on God’s way, and Jesus does not demand that this form is the only way possible.
And finally, Jesus is “the life.” And what is the opposite of life but death? Death is that which is sealed in a tomb and decays. Death is un-being. The life that is Jesus is the polar opposite – life in all it’s fullness. Be-ing. Be-ing with God, and in God, and for God, and by God's desire. Be-ing greater than we can comprehend.
These archetypal images are powerful and they touch something deep inside of us. They are part of why John’s gospel speaks to us so powerfully. People have been captivated by the richness and beauty of John’s language for centuries. This gospel is less a historical narrative and more an evocation of the richness and majesty – the depth and the glory – that is Jesus and God’s love for the world.
We’ll come back to John again next week because there is still a great deal for us to uncover.
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