UNITARIAN QUOTE-MINING EXPOSED

Unitarian heretic and pseudo-intellectual Dale Tuggy is fond of quoting sources either out of context or quite selectively in his war against the Trinity.

For instance, Tuggy is guilty of citing the following commentary on John in order to give the misleading impression that not all commentators think that the Evangelist in John 12:38-41 is identifying Jesus as the Yahweh whom the prophet Isaiah saw in his temple vision as recorded in Isaiah 6:1-10:  

All four Gospels, and also the book of Acts, quote Isa 6:9–10 to explain the lack of response to Jesus or his emissaries. In the Synoptic Gospels this quotation accounts for the failure to understand Jesus’ parables; in Acts, it explains the rejection of Paul’s preaching.375 John has recast the prophetic rebuke not as a failure to hear and see, but entirely as a failure to see. Isaiah’s word of judgment links or equates hearingand seeing as means of knowing or apprehending the truth:376 the people will hear, but not understand, see but not perceive; their ears will be heavy and their eyes closed; they will neither see nor hear in order to turn and be healed. John condenses the passage from Isaiah so that it refers only to seeing, not to hearing: “He has blinded their eyes and hardened their heart, lest they should see with their eyes and understand with their heart and turn, and I should heal them” (John 12:40, citing Isa 6:10). John then adds the editorial remark, “Isaiah said these things because he saw his glory and spoke about him” (12:41). By eliminating the references to “hearing” in his citation of the passage from Isaiah, and adding the note that Isaiah saw Jesus’ glory, John highlights the failure of Jesus’ contemporaries to see his glory (cf. 1:14; 2:11)—something that Isaiah had not missed. Scripture accounts for the unbelief of Jesus’ contemporaries: they “could not” believe, because in writing about those who could not believe, Isaiah had written of them, even as he wrote of Jesus’ glory. In Scripture, God’s glory refers to a visual phenomenon; it appears or is revealed or seen (Exod 33:22; Num 14:22; Isa 66:18–19; Ezek 39:13, 21). John uses the passage from Isaiah to emphasize “seeing” or discerning the glory of Jesus; judgment falls on those who do not perceive it, on those who do not understand him as the one sent (John 2:11; 6:36, 40) to do God’s work of bringing light into darkness, life into death.377

377. Thus Hurtado (2003, 380): “Not only is [Jesus] associated with the glory of God, he is the glory of God manifest.” (Marianne Meye Thompson, John: A Commentary (New Testament Library) [Westminster John Knox Press, 2015], p. 275)

Aside from the fact that Thompson nowhere here denies that John is making an identification between Jesus and Yahweh whose glory the prophet saw, Tuggy conveniently failed to note Thompson’ footnote where she directs her readers to the late renowned NT scholar Larry Hurtado’s comments on this text.

Here’s what this reputable Evangelical authority on NT Christology had to say concerning John’s use of Isaiah 6:1-10:  

Therefore it is important to note that throughout Isaiah 40-66 in particular, “glory” is frequently used in statements about a future manifestation of God that will involve redemption for Israel and even the illumination of Gentile nations.60 For example, note the statement in Isaiah 40:5 that “the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it.” We know from the Johannine application of Isaiah 40:3 to John the Baptizer in John 1:23 that the author considered this chapter of Isaiah predictive of the events that he narrates.61 Note also Isaiah 60:1, which links “light” and “the glory of the Lord,” two terms and categories that are frequent and linked also in GJohn (e.g., the close association of “light” and ” glory” in the Johannine prologue, 1:4-5, 14).62

Brockington showed that the Greek translator of Isaiah seems to have had a special fondness for the word doxa, which the translator “associated, directly or indirectly, with God’s redemptive work.” As Brockington put it, in Isaiah doxa serves as an appropriate special term “to use in relation to the appearance of God in theophany.” In fact, both the Greek and the Hebrew texts of Isaiah 40-66 present the future manifestation of God’s ” glory” as a favorite way of portraying God’s eschatological triumph.65

This Johannine appropriation of ” glory” from Isaiah fits with the christological adaptation of the “I am” expression that is also used so prominently in Isaiah, providing (along with other terms and motifs used in GJohn) further indication of how GJohn reflects a vigorous mining of passages in Isaiah in particular for resources to understand and declare Jesus’ significance. Like the appropriation of the ” I am” formula, this Johannine use of the Isaiah “glory/glorification” motif signals an intimate association of Jesus with God that is unparalleled in any known Jewish traditions of the time. This is also clearly indicated in the mind-boggling Johannine statement in 12:41 that Isaiah 6:1-5 WAS A VISION OF JESUS. For the author(s) of GJohn, JESUS WAS THE “Lord” (ton Kyrion; Adonay in the Hebrew) SEATED IN GLORY in Isaiah 6:1.66 Whether the author of John meant to say that Isaiah saw the glory of the preexistent Son or had a prophetic vision of the heavenly glory that was given to Jesus at/after his resurrection (and as John 17:5 indicates, the author thought in terms of both stages of Jesus’ glory), either way it was a completely novel assertion in Jewish tradition. As I have stated already, however, GJohn does not replace the God of the Old Testament with Jesus. Instead, there is this amazing linkage and extension to Jesus of Old Testament ways of referring to God.

This interesting development, which, I repeat, involves preserving a commitment to the uniqueness of the biblical God, together with an unprecedented treatment of Jesus in terms otherwise reserved for God, is apparent in the Johannine statements that “the Father” glorifies Jesus, and gives him glory. That is, Jesus’ glorious status is consistently described with reference to God “the Father.” Even in a passage such as John 17:5, where Jesus is pictured referring to his own premundane glory in heaven, it is a glory that he had with God (“with you,” para soi).

Nevertheless, the Johannine treatment of Jesus amounts to him being the one in whom God’s glory is manifested, the unique human embodiment of God’s glory on earth. This is why the Johannine Jesus can say, in reply to Philip’s request to be shown the Father, “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (14:9). In GJohn Jesus not only is associated with the glory of God, he is the glory of God manifest.67

But how could early Christians such as the author of GJohn have made this astonishing appropriation of material from passages generally regarded as expressing emphatically the uniqueness of Yahweh, the God of Israel? In particular, how could they associate so directly the ” glory” of God with Jesus (e.g., 11:4, 40)? How could they go so far as to claim that “the Father” gave heavenly glory to Jesus (17:5, 24) and glorified Jesus (e.g., 7:39; 12:16; 13:31-32; 14:13), when statements in these same Isaianic passages expressly say that God’s glory is uniquely his? Twice, in Isaiah 42:8 and again in 48:11, Yahweh states, ” I will give my glory to no other.” It is difficult to think that the author of GJohn somehow missed these emphatic statements. Even if he had missed or chosen to ignore them, we can be sure that the Jewish critics of Johannine christological claims, who are commonly seen as reflected in the objections voiced to Jesus’ claims in GJohn, would have pointed to these statements in Isaiah.

I propose, therefore, that the Johannine references to God giving glory to Jesus may in fact be deliberate allusions to these Isaiah passages which state that God does not give his glory to another, and that the Johannine statements reflect a creative and distinctive early Christian reading of these Isaiah statements and the larger body of material in Isaiah 40-66. Specifically, I suggest that behind (i.e., even earlier than) GJohn there was a Christian pattern of reading Isaiah 40-55 in particular that involved seeing two divine figures, the Lord God and another figure to whom God was understood to have given unique status that included sharing in God’s glory. It is widely thought that GJohn and other early Christian texts evidence an interpretation of the “servant” of Isaiah 40-55 as (fulfilled in) Jesus.68 I contend, however, that Isaiah was read much more creatively and daringly still. I propose that the servant and other features of the Isaiah passages were combined to refer to Jesus in such a way that they confirmed early Christian views of him sharing in divine status and worthy of worship, and that this reading of Isaiah facilitated the first-century Christian effort to articulate those views in biblical vocabulary and conceptual categories. To present the full warrants for my proposal would require a more substantial treatment of the matter than I can provide here. But in what follows I will focus on one other important theme in GJohn, the divine name, to show that references to God’s name in Isaiah were also taken christologically, and that this proposed early Christian reading of Isaiah explains how GJohn could present Jesus as given and sharing the glory of God. (Hurtado, Lord Jesus Christ: Devotion to Jesus in Earliest Christianity [William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., Grand Rapids, MI/Cambridge U.K. 2003], 6. Crises and Christology in Johannine Christianity, pp. 378-381; bold and capital emphasis mine)

Hurtado’s statements show that this NT scholar held the position that John was equating Jesus with the Yahweh God whose glory Isaiah had seen in his temple vision. And seeing that Thompson is the one who pointed to Hurtado’s exposition this obviously means that she is in agreement with his claims, which in turn refutes Tuggy’s insinuation to the contrary.

In light of this I will now quote from Thompson’s commentary to show how her exegesis of some of the key Christological texts soundly refutes Tuggy’ post-biblical unitarian views. Thompson, unlike Tuggy, believes that John’s Gospel proclaims Jesus as the uncreated Word of God that became flesh, the Son who is being essentially one with the Father, and whom the Evanglist depicts as possessing the very names, characteristics and abilities which the Hebrew Bible ascribes to Yahweh alone. All emphasis will be mine.   

THE ETERNAL WORD ENFLESHED

John’s Witness to Jesus

In John’s Gospel, not only does the resurrection make faith in Jesus possible; it also provides substance to that faith, directed toward the living God who gives life to all the world through his Word, and toward the Word enfleshed as Jesus of Nazareth. Not without reason has the Gospel of John been called “the Gospel of life.” “Eternal life” is one of its distinctive themes, not only in terms of the number of occurrences, but also in terms of its capacity to summarize who Jesus is and what he effects for humankind.

“In the Beginning Was the Word”

John identifies Jesus, the Gospel’s central figure, as “the Word” through which the world was made and life was given. This is to enunciate the Word’s claim on all humankind, on all creation. Throughout the Gospel there are hints and reminders that, in the words of Jesus, it is the Word, who was with God and was God, who speaks: as the embodiment on earth of Jacob’s ladder (1:51), he opens the heavenly realms of glory; he has come “from above” and will return to his previous state of glory; he offers the divine gift of life in the face of death, which pervades the cosmos; as the unique Son, he alone makes God known (1:18). This cosmic aspect of his identity comes to expression in the universal claim of Jesus, the King of Israel, on all the peoples of the world. In every encounter in the Gospel, those who hear, see, follow, or challenge Jesus are in fact coming face-to-face with the agent of their creation: the one through whom the world was made is also its Savior (4:42).

“The Word Was Made Flesh”

It is this Word, made flesh, who heals, teaches, debates, hungers, thirsts, bleeds, and dies, in a specific time and specific places: in the villages in and surrounding Galilee, Samaria, and Judea under the Roman Empire of the first century. Jesus shared the beliefs of his fellow Jews, including the acknowledgment of one living God, the heritage received from the patriarchs, the validity of Torah and the role of Moses in giving it, the sanctity of the temple, the resurrection from the dead, and the promised ingathering of God’s scattered children under the Messiah, symbolized in anticipatory fashion by the selection of twelve disciples. John alludes to the halakic regulations that allow for circumcision on the Sabbath (7:22; m. Šabb. 18:3–19:4); he is aware of the custom of using stone jars for the waters of purification (2:6; m. Kelim 10:1); he knows the Palestinian manna traditions of the Jewish haggadah (6:35–51) and the significance of the last day of the Feast of Tabernacles and the water poured in front of the altar (7:37; m. Sukkah 4:1, 8, 9). The designations used for Jesus reflect the categories that come from the Scriptures and the world of first-century Judaism: he is called prophet, Messiah, and King of Israel and of the Jews. His speech is replete with metaphors from Scripture: the vine, shepherd, bread, and light; he interprets scriptural texts (e.g., John 6:32, 45; 10:34–35); he alludes to narratives of Israel’s past, such as the sojourn in the wilderness. His public deeds and teaching take place near Passover, on the Sabbath, at Tabernacles and Hanukkah. He disputes with the Pharisees, runs afoul of the chief priests, encounters the Roman governor Pontius Pilate, and dies by crucifixion at the hands of Roman imperial power. Jesus’ mission is directed to “his own” (1:11), and he dies in order to save “the nation” and to “gather into one the children of God who had been scattered” (11:48–52). As the Messiah, the one promised in its Scriptures, Jesus both bestows and embodies the fullness of what Israel’s various institutions, feasts, and central figures commemorate, promise, or signify: Jesus embodies the fullness of God’s grace (1:14,16); joy (3:29; 15:11; 16:24; 17:13); provision (6:13) and life (10:10).

“He Is Ever at the Father’s Side”

The Gospel is peppered with promises that the death and resurrection of Jesus will accomplish the hoped-for ingathering of Jesus’ own people, yet beyond that will serve to gather all people (3:15; 10:16; 12:32, 47; see also 7:35). As the living one, Jesus sends the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of life, from the Father (14:26; 15:26). Jesus breathes the life-giving Spirit of God into humankind as God breathed the Spirit into Adam, and as God will breathe life into the desiccated bones of the people of Israel (20:23; Gen 2:7; Ezek 37:9). Jesus’ risen mode of existence and the sending of the Spirit to bear witness to him make it possible for him to be present and known beyond the boundaries of Judea and Galilee. Jesus, the Messiah of Israel, is also the “Savior of the world” (4:42).

At the end of the Gospel there is also a brief allusion to Jesus’ expected return (John 21:22–23), along with a few descriptions of the future that emphasize the twin themes of eternal life and presence—the presence of the Father, and the Son, with the people of God. The Gospel of John thus comprises in itself the whole biblical story from creation (1:1–3) to the second coming of Christ (21:22–23), implicitly identifying Jesus of Nazareth as the one who was, is, and is to come: what can be predicated of the eternal God can also be predicated of him (cf. Rev 1:4).

In John’s witness to Jesus, these aspects of Jesus’ identity are coordinated in such a way that each determines and shapes the other. It is as the Word made flesh that Jesus is the Messiah: Israel’s deliverance is an act of Israel’s God, and “Messiah” is defined and redefined in terms of the embodied presence of God’s own Word, who speaks words of life to his people. As the agent of creation, the King of Israel delivers his people from the ultimate forces that threaten their very existence—namely, the powers of death—by subjecting himself to the powers of the Roman authorities, who execute him as they had other would-be rebels. Again, it is as the Messiah of Israel that Jesus is the Savior of the world; and it is as the Savior of the world that he is the Messiah of Israel; thus, gathering his flock entails bringing in sheep of other folds (10:16; 11:52). As King of Israel, the Word incarnate accomplishes deliverance from death to life not only for his own, but also for the world, which was “made through him” (1:3).

There is a reason that John 3:16 may be the most repeated and memorized verse of Scripture: its pithy formulations—God so loved the world, that he gave, that they may have life—encapsulate John’s declarations about the relationship of God to the world. God’s love for the world manifests itself in life for the world: this, in turn, brings glory to God (11:4, 40). John, however, does not present these claims in the form of a letter, dialogue, or treatise, but rather as the narrative of the Word who was with God and was God, who became flesh, and is now ever with the Father. In this Word—who was, is, and will be—there is life; that life reveals God’s love for the world; and God’s life-giving love glorifies the Father and Son together. Jesus’ disciples participate in these realities: they are the recipients of God’s love and life; by embodying those gifts in their communal life together, they extend both to the world. In this way they bear witness to Jesus and bring glory to God. (Ibid., pp. 13-16)

The opening verses of the Gospel of John constitute one of the most theologically influential passages of Scripture, providing grist for the mill of developing christological reflection. Drawing on the opening words of Genesis, John introduces Jesus, the Messiah and only Son of the Father (1:17–18), as the incarnation of the Word that was with God before all things and through which all things, including life itself, came into being.

Three assertions characterize this Word: the Word was with God, became flesh, and is now ever with God. With these assertions, John further identifies the Word in relationship to God, the world, and humankind. 1 From the beginning, this Word is intrinsic to the identity of God. As the agent of the creation of the world and of all things, this Word relates to the world as the Creator relates to all that is created. Incarnate as a human being of flesh and blood, the Word became part of that created order, subject to the conditions of human frailty. As Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah, this Word became part of the people of Israel, whose story, as narrated in the Scriptures and now brought to its climactic moment, is the story of all the world. Having suffered death, this same Jesus nevertheless lives with God. If the Word was the agent of God’s creation of all life, then the incarnate Word, Jesus of Nazareth, both brought and continues to bring life and light to the world.

It has sometimes been argued that the opening verses of John incorporate an early Christian hymn describing and honoring Jesus as exalted Lord. 2 Early Christians clearly did use hymns in worship (Eph 5:19; Col 3:16; cf. Rev 5:9–10, 12–13). An oft-quoted passage from a letter of Pliny the Younger, governor of Bithynia in Asia Minor, to the emperor Trajan (ca. 112 C.E.) speaks of Christians singing hymns “to Christ as to a god” (Ep. 10.96–97). But even if these opening verses of John echo phrases from such a hymn, in their present form they constitute a “prose introduction” to the Gospel narrative and its central figure, Jesus; the prologue is not a comprehensive or self-contained summary of the Gospel. 3 For that reason, important aspects of the Gospel, including the postresurrection mission of the Spirit in the church and the world, are not included here.

Yet the prologue introduces, albeit briefly, many of the major themes and much of the imagery of the Gospel, including the coming of the light into darkness, the rejection of the light, the importance of witnesses, the call to believe, the relationship of Moses and the Torah to Jesus, and Jesus’ identity as the Messiah and unique Son of the Father in whom there is life. Readers of the Gospel have the key to understanding what characters in the narrative itself repeatedly misunderstand: who Jesus is, and how his identity as the embodied Word of God undergirds both what he claims and what he offers. The Gospel narrative of Jesus’ signs, words, and encounters is the narrative of the manifestation of God’s glory, life, and love, and of their effects, reception, and rejection. There is no disembodied way to behold the glory of the Word, to receive God’s life, or to experience God’s love. The opening verses of John show how it is that the Word who was with God and was the agent of creation could also be the subject of a Gospel: this Word became flesh. (Ibid., pp. 25-26)

[1:1–3] John’s narrative opens, like the narrative of Genesis, with a brief account of the creation of the world “in the beginning” (en archē, Gen 1:1 lxx). 4 In Genesis, God spoke the heavens and the earth into being; in John, all things come into being by means of the Word (ho logos).5 Few terms in John have been more thoroughly investigated and discussed as providing the key to John’s religious and historical contexts, with special consideration of the possibility that logos reflects the Greek, particularly Stoic, view of it as the rational principle of the universe. Yet, strikingly, as a designation for Jesus, logos appears only in the opening verses of John (1:1, 14), where it is found in assertions about the role of that logos in creation, akin to biblical descriptions of God’s creation of the world through his word (Ps 33:6) or his wisdom (Prov 8:27–31).

Three things are predicated of this Word: (1) The Word “was in the beginning.”6 Since the Word already existed before the creation of the world, that Word is not part of the created order (1:1–2). (2) Because “the Word” is said to be with God, it is clear that the Word can in some way be distinguished from “God.” (3) And yet “the Word was God” (again using the imperfect tense of eimi). The proper designation of the Creator, God (ho theos), is also appropriate for the Word (ho logos), through whom the world was made (1:1), and signals the distinctive divine functions and identity of the Logos. John’s identification of the Word as both with God and as God constitutes the heart of the Christology that is unfolded throughout the Gospel.

In John, the twin assertions that “all things” have come into being through the Word (v. 2) and “without him not one thing came into being that has come into being” (v. 3) underscore the Word’s agency in God’s creation of all things.7 Particularly important here are the assertions using the preposition dia (“through, by means of”): “all things came into being through [the Word]” (1:3), a pattern of speech used consistently in the New Testament for the role of the Word (or Christ, or the Son) in creation (1 Cor 8:6; cf. Col 1:16; Heb 1:2). This pattern reinforces the biblical insistence that one God created all that is, and that the Word (or the Son; or the Lord) was the means through which God created all things.8 God’s sole creation of all things in turn articulates the singularity and uniqueness of the one God. In Isa 40–55, for example, God’s uniqueness is demonstrated by his creation of the world: “For thus says the LORD, who created the heavens (he is God!), who formed the earth and made it (he established it; he did not create it a chaos, he formed it to be inhabited!): I am the LORD, and there is no other” (45:18). God is not only the creator; God is the sole creator of the world (Isa 44:24) and of all that is (40:28; 45:7; 48:12–13; cf. 42:5; 44:24; 45:11–12). The assertion that the Word is the sole instrument of God’s creation of all things aligns the Word uniquely with God’s creative work and sovereignty over all things as recounted in Scripture. Greco-Roman Jewish monotheistic rhetoric also emphasizes God’s unique creation of and ultimate sovereignty over all things; the Gospel of John employs such biblical and Jewish rhetoric to underscore the status and identity of the Son (cf. 3:31, 35; 5:20, 22–23, 26–28; 13:3; 16:15; 17:2).9

The statement “and the word was God” (kai theos ēn ho logos) poses one of the more challenging problems of translation in John. The absence of the definite article before theos (God) has given rise to the translations “the Word was a god” or “the Word was divine.”10 But neither of these affirmations captures John’s point. John predicates of the Word what the Old Testament predicates of YHWH: the lord is God. To call the Word “God” is not to collapse the distinction between “the Word” and “God,” as the subsequent distinction between “Father” and “Son” makes clear; it is, rather, to use the highest degree of qualitative predication regarding the subject, the Word: the Word has the quality, the reality, even the identity of God.11

[4–5] The Word is the light that continues to shine in the darkness. In Scripture, light is an image for God and for entities that come from or belong to God; light thus serves as a soteriological and ethical image, referring to (1) that which brings salvation; (2) blessedness, salvation, or the heavenly or divine realms; (3) life, when contrasted with the darkness of death; and (4) the path of right conduct. Darkness is the realm of terror, gloom, and death (Job 15:22–23, 30; 17:12–13; Pss 88:12; 91:6; 107:10, 14; 139:11–12), or of lack of knowledge of God or the way to God (Job 5:14; Pss 18:28; 82:5; Eccl 2:13–14; Isa 9:2; 42:7, 16). Because light dispels darkness, or illumines a path in the darkness, it is linked with joy, life, and understanding, and ultimately with God (Pss 4:6; 27:1; 36:9; 56:13; 89:15; 119:105; Bar 4:2; Wis 7:26; 2 Bar. 17.4; 18.2; 59.2).

Even as God spoke in creating the world and so brought life out of nothing and light out of darkness (Gen 1:3–5), so God’s Word enters the world to bring life into being and light into the darkness. Darkness opposes the light’s purpose to illumine all people, to bring light into the world and so to bring life out of death (cf. 3:16–17; 11:25–26). But “the darkness has not overcome” the light. The Greek katalambanō, here translated “overcome,” may mean (1) to understand, to comprehend; or (2) to overtake, to seize (cf. 12:35); or (3) to attain. Since several other words in the prologue stress human comprehension, including “believe” (pisteusōsin, vv. 7, 12), “accept” (paralambanō, v. 11), and “receive” (lambanō, v. 12), one could understand John to be saying that the darkness did not receive or understand the light. But neither has the darkness “overcome” (i.e., “extinguished”) the light; the darkness has not swallowed up the light (cf. 3:19). John thus speaks of the light that shines (phainei, present tense) in the darkness. The one who was the life of the world surely is and will be its life: the light continues to shine to bring life to all. (Ibid., pp. 27-30)

6. The imperfect tense ēn (“was”) of the verb einai (“to be”) indicates ongoing action in the past.

7. The God “who lives forever created all things” (ta panta; Sir 18:1 lxx), is the “creator of all things” (2 Macc 1:24–25), the “cause of all things” (Philo, Somn. 1.67), “the beginning and middle and end of all things,” and the one who “breathes life into all creatures” (Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2.190; Ant. 1.225; 12.22). For similar sentiments in philosophical texts, see Diogenes Laertius, Lives 7.147; Aelius Aristides, Or. 43.7.

8. Later, using an image that underscores the unity of the work of the Father and Son (and the Spirit), Irenaeus asserts that the Father created the world with “his own hands,” namely, the Word and the Spirit (Haer. 3.11.1; 4.7.4; 4.20.1; 5.1.3; 5.6.1; 5.28.4).

9. Bauckham 2008, 8; Hurtado 2005a, 119–21; M. M. Thompson 2001, 54–55, 74–76.

10. In which case, we might expect either theou ēn ho logos, “the Word was of God,” or theios ēn ho logos, “the Word was divine.”

11. Wallace (45–46, 266–69) calls theos a qualitative predication that identifies the Word as having the quality of God while yet distinct from God the Father; but Bauckham (2007, 240–42) asserts instead that the statement is one of identity: the Word does not have the quality of divinity or of God; rather, the Word is God. (Ibid., pp. 28-29)

[14–18] Those born of flesh may become those born of God through the Word of God, the Logos, that has become flesh (sarx). In Scripture, flesh may denote the frailty and mortality of humankind, often in contrast to divine power and eternity (Isa 40:6–7; Gen 6:17; 7:21; 2 Chr 32:7–8; Job 34:15; Pss 56:4; 73:26; Jer 17:5). By becoming flesh, the Word of God enters this sphere of mortality and frailty and makes it possible for those born of the flesh to become those born of God (1:12–13). John’s formulation certainly finds its resonance in Irenaeus, who famously wrote that “the Word of God, our Lord Jesus Christ [did] through his transcendent love, become what we are, that he might bring us to be what he is himself.”19

In different ways, Greek philosophy and early Christian heresies balked at the central Johannine affirmation, “The Word became flesh.” In his Confessions, Augustine wrote that although he had found numerous similarities to the doctrine of the Logos (Word) in Greek philosophy, “I did not read in them that ‘the Word was made flesh and came to dwell among us’” (7.9). But John—and Augustine with him—maintains that the Logos, the very Word of God, who was God, became part of the material realm. Indeed, “he was counted as one of our number, and he paid his dues to Caesar” (Conf. 5.3). The Word took on the flesh not merely of humankind, but the particular human flesh of a Jewish subject of the Roman Empire in the first century. Similarly, Irenaeus commented that no heretic held the view that the Word was made flesh (Haer. 3.11.3). Some thought the Word seemed to become flesh but did not really do so. The affirmation that God’s Word truly became flesh distinguishes Johannine Christology in its ancient contexts.20

Because the Word became flesh, it was possible to see “his glory.” Here the testimony of the eyewitnesses, those who were witnesses to the life of the enfleshed Word, comes to expression. The first reference to “seeing” in the Gospel is appropriately coupled with the first reference to the Word as the Son (1:14) and the Messiah, Jesus (1:17). As the Gospel now begins to narrate the life of the enfleshed Word, Son and Messiah are the designations that dominate the narrative, while Logos disappears. 21 The affirmations “The Word became flesh” and “We saw his glory” introduce the humanity of the Word (flesh) and the historically situated character of his life: Jesus is a common first-century Jewish name; Messiah, a hoped-for deliverer of God’s people, Israel.22

As a human being, the Word lived with human beings. “Lived” translates eskēnōsen, from skēnoō, “to live, settle, or take up residence.”23 In the lxx, the tabernacle of God is called a skēnē.24 John may intend an allusion to the rich Scriptural picture of God’s dwelling or “tabernacling” with Israel in visible glory, but here with the potentially offensive particularization of God’s glory in the enfleshment of the Word.25 The characteristically Johannine word doxa can be translated either “glory” or “honor.” John exploits these twin meanings in keeping with Scripture, where “glory” (doxa) refers both to the visible presence of God among the people and to the honor that is due to God (see Exod 16:7, 10; 24:16–17; Lev 9:6; Num 14:10; Deut 5:24). Drawing on the scriptural descriptions of luminous manifestations of the glory of God, here the glory of the Son (John 2:11; 11:40; 12:41; 17:24) can be seen. “Seeing” does not refer merely to “observation.” Not all who physically saw the man Jesus of Nazareth also saw his glory. Sight must be distinguished from insight; while all may “see with the eyes,” not all “understand with their heart” (John 12:40, quoting Isa 6:10).

Throughout the prologue, the descriptions of the Word have made clear the Word’s divine character, as does John’s characterization of the incarnate Word as “the Father’s only Son” (monogenous para patros, 1:14; cf. 3:16, 18). In a few sentences, John will speak of Jesus as “the only Son who is ever at the Father’s side” (1:18; monogenēs huios ho ōn eis ton kolpon tou patros). Monogenēs means “one and only; only one of its kind or class; unique.”26

When used to describe a relationship to a father, monogenēs refers to the only offspring of that father. As the unique Son (monogenēs huios), Jesus is thus contrasted to the many children of God (tekna theou; vv. 12–13). Furthermore, the affirmation that Jesus is the only Son (monogenēs, in 1:14, 18; 3:16, 18; cf. also 1 John 4:9) corresponds to this Gospel’s characterization of God as the only God (or “the one who alone is God,” monos theos, 5:44). Even as “the only God” reflects typical monotheistic rhetoric, so only Son emphasizes the singular status of Jesus.27

The mention of the enfleshment of the Word prompts a further reference to the witness of John (the Baptist), who speaks about Jesus in terms of early Christian belief, and especially of his preeminence and preexistence (v. 15).28 In Christian tradition and confession, John was known as the forerunner of Jesus: here he witnesses to the one who came before him. The present and perfect tense Greek verbs describing John’s activity (v. 15) can be translated, “John bears [or, “is bearing”] witness and has declared.” The accent falls on the ongoing witness of John to Jesus, begun before Jesus appeared on the scene, continued throughout his ministry (cf. 3:23–30), and still heard in the pages of the Gospel. (Ibid., pp. 32-34)

19. Irenaeus, Haer. 5, Preface. Epictetus (Diatr. 2.8.1–2) asks, “What is the essence [ousia] of God? Is it flesh [sarx]? Certainly not! [mē genoito].”

20. The early Christian heresy known as docetism (from the Greek dokein, “to seem”) thought of Jesus’ “flesh” as something of a disguise. A number of early Christian texts suggest that docetism was a threat in the early church in Asia Minor (cf. 1 John 1:1; 4:2; 2 John 7; Ign., Smyrn. 2; 3.1–3; 4.2; 5.2; cf. Ign., Eph. 7.2; Ign., Trall. 10; Irenaeus, Haer. 1.10.1–8). For discussion of “incarnational Christology” as marking the divergence of the Christian narrative from its Jewish roots historically and theologically, see Boyarin 261, 265; Wyschogrod…

23. The Hebrew verb šākan is used of God’s dwelling with Israel (Exod 25:8; 29:46; Zech 2:11 [2:14 Mt]) and of the dwelling of the bright cloud of God’s presence upon the tabernacle (Exod 24:16; 40:35); in such cases the LXX, which often tends toward circumlocutions in describing God, avoids verbs for dwelling or living, so God’s glory is said to have “come down” (katebē, Exod 24:16) or to have “overshadowed” the tabernacle (40:35).

24. Among many references, see Exod 26:26; 27:9, 21; 29:4; 30:36; Lev 1:1; 4:7; Num 1:1; 2:17; 3:25; see also Josephus, Ant. 20.228, Ag. Ap. 2.12.

25. See Wyschogrod.

26. The LXX translates yāḥîd (“only”) both as monogenēs (lxx: Pss 21:21; 24:16; 34:17 [Mt: 22:21; 25:16; 35:17]) and agapētos (“beloved,” Gen 22:2, 12, 16; Amos 8:10; Zech 12:10).

27. For OT monotheistic rhetoric that emphasizes the “one” or “only” God, see Deut 6:4; 2 Kgs 19:19; Isa 2:17; Mal 2:10, 15; for similar rhetoric in the NT, see 1 Cor 8:6; Eph 4:6; 1 Tim 1:17; Jude 25.

28. For an argument that prōtos mou ēn (“he was before me,” 1:15) need not refer to preexistence, and thus could reflect the testimony of the “historical” Baptist, see Dodd 1963, 274. To the contrary, see Bauckham 2006, 388: “What John the Baptist says, in the Gospel, is doubtless not a mere report of what even the Beloved Disciple heard him say at the time.” (Ibid., p. 32-34)

Yet another way of explicating the significance of the incarnation is found in the closing statement of the prologue: the Son has made the Father known (1:18). Coupled with the assertion that “no one has ever seen God,” these two statements point to Jesus as the unique “eyewitness” of God the Father,35 who alone has “seen” and hence knows God (3:13; 5:38–39; 6:45–46). The Gospel may well be alluding to a commonly received interpretation of Israel as meaning “the one who sees God,”36 as well as to various Old Testament accounts of seeing God. In Gen 32:30 (32:31 LXX), Jacob saw God “face to face,” and so he named the place of their encounter Peniel (“face of God”). Moses, too, is said to have spoken with God “face to face” (Exod 33:11; Deut 34:10; cf. Num 14:14; Deut 5:4). The seventy elders of Israel “saw the God of Israel” (Exod 24:9–11). And Isa 6, Ezek 1, and Dan 7 describe visionary experiences of God, which were echoed in apocalyptic and mystical Jewish texts. How, then, can John say that “no one has ever seen God”?

The bald assertions of such face-to-face encounters were quite often qualified, either within the biblical tradition itself or by translations and interpreters, albeit not in a uniform or consistent manner. For example, while Exod 24:9–10 states that Moses and the elders of Israel saw God, later in that same narrative Moses is denied a vision of God’s face on the grounds that no one can see God and live (33:20–23). Again, according to Deuteronomy, the people of Israel never saw the form of God (4:12–15; 5:4), even though Moses is described as conversing regularly with God “face to face.” Philo qualified his own assertion that Israel means “the one who sees God” with the note that one sees God as “through a mirror,” that is, not directly.37 Philo also explains that Moses and Abraham saw the powers of God, but not “the one who is” (Mut. 7–17; Mos. 2.99–100). The Targums similarly reinterpret most passages that speak of direct apprehension of God or God’s face.38 In other words, there are numerous interpretive moves that seek to explain apparently direct visions of God as mediated or indirect encounters with God.

According to John, the Son alone has an unmediated and direct vision of God, because the Son has been with the Father from the beginning. Only the one who is “from God” (1:1, 18; 8:58), who has been in the presence of God (1:1), and is now “ever at the Father’s side,” in the position of honor with God, has seen God (6:46) and can in turn make God known: and this happens through Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection.39 Jesus’ unique vision of God distinguishes him not only from his contemporaries (cf. 3:13), but also from his disciples, who see the Father in the Son, rather than seeing the Father directly as the Son does (14:8–9).

There is no doubt that in the prologue to the Gospel, John stakes his claim: the central figure of the Gospel, Jesus of Nazareth, is none other than the incarnate Word of God, who was with God, and who was God. Curiously, none of Jesus’ claims for himself in the Gospel, and none of the debates over his identity, are formulated in precisely the terms set forth in the prologue. Not until after the resurrection does any confession clearly echo the opening words of the Gospel, “My Lord and my God!” (20:28). Even that reserve is instructive. Although the one of whom the Gospel writes was an agent of the creation of the world and now lives forever with God, the Gospel is the narrative of his dwelling “among us.” What follows in the pages of the Gospel is the narrative of the life-giving work of the Word that became flesh. The Gospel is not a series of theological propositions, although certain convictions regarding Jesus’ heavenly origins and divine identity are assumed by and voiced in its narrative. (Ibid., pp. 35-36)

37. Fug. 208–13; Praem. 44; Conf. 72; Migr. 201; Somn. 1.114; Her. 279; Leg. 3.15, 186; Abr. 54–57.

38. The Targums Onqelos, Pseudo-Jonathan, and Neofiti I state that Jacob saw an angel or angels; Onqelos on Exod 34:10 reads that the elders of Israel saw “the Glory of the God of Israel”; on Num 14:14 it reads, “You are the Lord, whose Shekinah rests among this people, who with their own eyes have seen the Shekinah of your Glory, O Lord”; Targum Isaiah at 6:1 reads, “I saw the glory of the LORD resting upon the throne.”

39. In Sir 43:31 seeing and describing the Lord are linked; Thyen (106–7) argues that John 1:18 answers the twofold question in Sirach: “Who has seen [the Lord; heoraken auton] and who can describe [ekdiēgēsetai] him?” The “one whom Jesus loved” reclined “in the bosom of Jesus” or “at Jesus’ side” at the Last Supper (13:23, en tō kolpō tou Iēsou, hon agapa ho Iēsous), a statement that implicitly authorizes his testimony to Jesus. (Ibid., p. 36)

Excursus 1: Word and Wisdom in John

John’s designation of the preincarnate Son as “the Word” (ho logos) raises twin questions: the term’s conceptual background and John’s theological and rhetorical purposes for using it.40 Some interpreters have proposed that John adopted the Greek philosophical term logos, which could refer to the principle of rationality or coherence thought to be immanent in the world, or to the mind or eternal reason regarded as God.41 Early Christian commentators understood John to adapt this philosophic idea of the logos in order to make plain the Word’s relationship to God and the created world.42

But the explanation of John’s use of logos has also been sought in scriptural precedents or Hellenistic Jewish speculative theology. The exegetical work of Philo of Alexandria, for example, demonstrates a complex use of logos to refer to the means by which the Most High God was visible or known to humankind (Somn. 1.229–30; QE 2.68).43 Striking parallels between Philo and John demonstrate that both draw their terminology and conceptuality from Scripture. Even so, however, there are alternative possible origins of John’s use of logos: (1) the Word of the Lord, which can be further subdivided into the word by which God creates, the prophetic word, and the word of the Scriptures; (2) Wisdom, a preexistent agent of God’s creation, a means of instruction and life, and a particular gift to Israel; (3) the translation of various terms that designate God’s activity or being in the Aramaic Targums with Memra (word).44 While it is possible and perhaps even likely that no single figure accounts for John’s use of logos, the most promising options are “the word of the Lord” and the figure of Wisdom, since they best explain the ways in which John develops the portrait of Jesus throughout the Gospel.

According to Gen 1:1, when God speaks, the world is created. That action can be personified: thus, Ps 33:6, “By the word of the Lord the heavens were made” (see also Gen 1:3, 6, 9, 11, 14; Wis 9:1; Sir 42:15). Scripture also presents the Word as the subject of active verbs: “The word of the LORD came to Abram in a vision” (Gen 15:1, 4). When God speaks to a prophet or king, this speaking may be personified in the phrase “the word of the Lord came to . . .” (among many OT references, see 1 Sam 15:1; 2 Sam 7:4; 24:11; 1 Kgs 6:11; 17:8; 18:1; 19:9; Isa 38:4; Jer 1:2, 4, 11, 13; Ezek 1:3; Hos 1:1; Joel 1:1) or even the somewhat redundant “the word that the Lord has spoken” (Isa 37:22; cf. Ps 105:19). “The Word of the Lord” comes from God and is the means of God’s creation and revelation. It is never separable from the identity of God; yet at the same time it can be spoken of as an active subject. The Word is both with God and is God.

Much the same can be predicated of the figure of Wisdom, whose contours have also been detected in John’s use of “the Word.”45 God’s wisdom (sophia) and word were often identified or conflated in Jewish exegesis and speculation.46 Sirach asserts that God’s wisdom is God’s law (24:23; cf. 15:1); in Bar 4:1 Wisdom is referred to as “the book of the commandments of God, and the law that endures forever”; in Wis 9:1–2 God is said to create all things by his word and his wisdom; Philo of Alexandria assumes the equation of wisdom and the logos (e.g., Leg. 1.65). Wisdom originates with God (Prov 8:27, 30; Wis 9:4, 9; 18:15; Sir 24:4, 8) and exists before creation (Prov 8:22; Wis 9:9; Sir 1:4; 24:9; cf. John 1:1). More to the point, Wisdom is the agent of God’s creation of the world and hence also its life (Prov 3:19; 8:30, 35; Sir 24:8; Wis 7:22; 8:5; 9:1–2; Bar 4:1); it comes to earth and is found particularly although not exclusively in Israel (Sir 24:6–8, 12, 23; Wis 8:1; 1 En. 42.1; Bar 3:37 [3:38 LXX]). It gives light, or direction, to those who seek its paths (Sir 24:7; Wis 7:30; 1 En. 42.2).

John is not alone among New Testament authors in depicting Jesus as the wisdom of God. Paul refers to Christ as “the wisdom of God” (1 Cor 1:24, 30); other passages (Col 1:15–20; Heb 1:1–3) may allude to the figure of wisdom to portray Christ as existing with God prior to creation or as an agent of creation or revelation. Yet John never uses the term sophia (“wisdom”); he affirms, “The Word became flesh,” not “Wisdom became flesh.” John’s preference for logos may arise from several factors.47 First, John has a particular interest in the relationship of Jesus and the law, “the word of God” (1:17, 45; 5:39, 45–46). As Torah became increasingly important in the self-definition of the Jewish people after the fall of the temple in 70 C.E., it also became increasingly important to specify the relationship of Jesus to the Scriptures of Israel and hence to the God who gave them. Logos serves this purpose better than sophia. Second, logos bridges concepts, prevalent in different Greek philosophical circles, of reason immanent in the universe. Not only does the Word provide coherence for all the world; the mission of the incarnate Word intended for the salvation of all the world also arises from its intrinsic character as universal and immanent reason.48 Third, in John the emphasis on Jesus as the one who speaks “words of life” (6:63, 68), which are the words of God (8:28; 12:49–50; 14:10; 17:8), and who bears witness to the truth (18:37) explicates Jesus’ identity as the logos, or Word, of God.49 Whereas the word sophia (“wisdom”) never appears in John, outside the prologue logos or logoi occurs 36 times; rhēma (“utterance; word”) occurs 12 times; lalia (“speech, word”) occurs twice. Through the Word, God created the world and continues to speak to it.

Both wisdom and word are peculiarly apt figures in the development of Johannine Christology since neither wisdom nor word was considered a being or entity separable from God, such as an angel or prophet, who may choose to do God’s will or not. Both wisdom and word refer to something that belongs to and comes from God, something inward or peculiar to God that is externally expressed.50 These are categories of agency that allow for the closest possible unity of the means of God’s revelation and the God who reveals.51 To speak of Jesus as God’s wisdom or God’s word is to say that he is God’s self-expression, God’s thought or mind, God’s interior word spoken aloud, or in John’s description, “made flesh.”52 While Jesus is also called prophet and Messiah in John, this Gospel deepens the unity between Jesus and God by appealing to categories that portray Jesus not only as the representative of God, but also as the representation of God: the one whose origins lie uniquely in the very being of God. Wisdom and word, coordinated with John’s presentation of Jesus as the Son, advance such a Christology.

Early Christian writers subsequently spoke of Jesus especially as the Word, drawing heavily on imagery from Old Testament and apocryphal wisdom texts to round out that picture (among them, Ign., Magn. 8.2; Justin, Dial. 61.1; 62.1; Tertullian, Prax. 7; Theophilus, Autol. 2.22; Origen, Princ. 1.2.9; Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 1.2.2; Augustine, Tract. Ev. Jo. 1.16). In a manner without New Testament precedent, patristic theologians often correlated the logos with Jesus and the wisdom of God with the Spirit.53 (Ibid., pp. 37-39)

40. Phillips surveys nearly every possible Hellenistic parallel to John’s use of logos. He concludes that John echoes a variety of traditions and that he “resemanticizes” the multivalent term logos as God, life, and light, and ultimately, Jesus.

41. Heraclitus, frg. 1, states, “All things come to pass according to this word” (ginomenōn gar pantōn kata ton logon tonde; in Freeman).

42. Justin, 1 Apol. 5; Augustine, Conf. 7.9…

44. For arguments that the targumic term Memra does indeed lie behind logos, see Ronning 2010; McHugh (7–9) argues that logos “stands for the Memraconsidered the Holy, Ineffable, Name of God.”

45. Personified wisdom appears in Proverbs, Sirach, Wisdom, Baruch, 1 Enoch, 4 Ezra, and Philo. For their impact on the development of Christology, see the particularly rich treatment by Hengel 1995b; 1995d. For more discussion, see Borgen 1996; Epp; Craig Evans 1993; Scott…

47. Elsewhere in the NT, the use of logos for Jesus is limited to the Johannine literature (1 John 1:1; Rev 19:13).

48. In his effort to explain Judaism with reference to Greek philosophy, Philo demonstrates the utility of the term logos to describe the presence and powers of God (see QE 2.68; Fug. 95–98, 100–101)…

50. This is perhaps most explicit in the refined wisdom speculation of Wis 7, where wisdom is said to be “a breath of the power of God, a pure emanation of the glory of the Almighty, . . . a reflection of eternal light, a spotless mirror of the working of God, and an image of his goodness” (7:25–26).

51. Dodd (1953, 275) speaks of wisdom as “the hypostatized thought of God projected into creation, and remaining as an immanent power within the world and in man”; for further discussion of wisdom and word as divine agents, see esp. Hurtado 1988 and the works cited in note 46 above. (Ibid., pp. 37-39)

EQUAL TO GOD

[16–18] Jesus’ various actions on the Sabbath16 lead “the Jews” to “pursue” or “persecute” him, that is, to seek his death (v. 18).17 Quite simply, Jesus’ teaching has led to violation of the law to honor the Sabbath by refraining from work. Jesus defends himself with the cryptic assertion, “My Father is working even now and I am working,” which only exacerbates the problem: he claims not only that God himself has authorized his work, but also that he stands in a distinctive relationship to God, who is his Father. In claiming to imitate God, his Father, he has made himself “equal to God,” doing what no human being ought to do (cf. 10:30, 33 and comments there). Jesus’ claims are offensive, and consequently the Gospel now sounds the ominous note of the threat against Jesus’ life, a threat that will be repeated (7:1, 19–20, 25; 8:22, 37, 40) until it is finally carried out in Jesus’ crucifixion.

In biblical and Jewish literature we find a catalog of the empires and rulers who forgot their proper place and claimed divine prerogatives for themselves by making presumptuous claims of one sort or another, including Pharaoh and Egypt (Exod 5:2; Ezek 29–32); Tyre (Ezek 28); Assyria (Isa 10:7–17); Nebuchadnezzar and Babylon (Isa 14:13–14; 47:6–8; Jdt 3:8; 6:2); Antiochus IV Epiphanes (Dan 11:36–39; 1 Macc 1:10); Pompey (Pss. Sol. 2.28–32); Caligula (Philo, Legat. 22, 74–80, 93–97, and esp. 118, 162; Josephus, Ant. 19.4); Nero (Sib. Or. 5.33–35, 137–54, 214–21); and Herod Agrippa (Josephus, Ant. 19.345, 347; Acts 12:22). The later Midrash Rabbah offers a comment on Exod 7:1, “I have made you like God to Pharaoh,” excoriating five biblical kings and empires who endeavored to usurp for themselves the prerogatives or status properly belonging to God (the prince of Tyre, Nebuchadnezzar, Pharaoh, Joash [2 Chr 24:17]). These individuals are rebuked for accepting or demanding veneration of some sort, for claiming divine prerogatives or power, including that of creation and sovereignty, or for presumptuous arrogance and failure to acknowledge the supremacy and power of God and the limits of human life.

Similarly, according to 2 Maccabees the dying Antiochus IV learns, through divine punishment, that it is “right to be subject to God, and no mortal should think that he is equal to God” (mē thnēton onta isothea phronein, 9:8–12). Philo describes the desire to be “equal with gods” (isos einai theoi) as a kind of atheism, as being “without God” (atheos), since such a desire or claim fails to recognize one’s proper position with respect to God (Leg. 1.49). Caligula’s desire for divine honors represents “the most grievous impiety” (Legat. 118).18 To claim to be “equal to God,” to act as though one had God’s prerogatives, or to fail to take one’s proper place as a human being before God, is to set oneself up as a rival to the one God, as a second deity alongside the one true God (cf. 2 Thess 2:4; Rev 13:1–6).19 Autonomy and self-divinization are two sides of the same coin

There is a similar criticism of human presumption in non-Jewish sources. The famous maxim, “Know thyself,” attributed to the oracle of Delphi and often put on the lips of Socrates by Plato, was taken as an admonition not to overstep one’s bounds.20 Apollodorus writes of the arrogance of Salmoneus, who in his impiety (asebeia) wanted “to make himself equal to Zeus” by substituting the sacrifices to Zeus with sacrifices to himself; he was struck by lightning.21 Dio Cassius criticized Gaius (Caligula) for ordering temples and sacrifices in his honor, impersonating the gods, and calling himself “Jupiter.”22 Human beings who wanted divine honors were deemed arrogant and worthy of punishment, even as they were in the Jewish world. If non-Jewish readers read these charges against Jesus, they would likely understand them to include impiety toward God, or the gods, coupled with the arrogance of claiming a status not rightfully his. In short, those of Jewish and Gentile backgrounds would hear the charge that Jesus made himself “equal to God” in quite similar ways: a human being has acted inappropriately and arrogantly.

The charge against Jesus is not simply that he referred to God as his Father; the New Testament tradition makes it clear that human beings can know God as Father (e.g., Matt 6:9; Luke 11:2; Rom 8:15; Gal 4:6; 1 John 3:1–10). Rather, in Jesus’ assertion that God is his “own Father” (patera idion, 5:18),23 he claims a distinctive relationship with God precisely by his right to exercise divine prerogatives and power. But as the following long discourse (5:19–47) makes clear, Jesus does not “make himself equal to God” by seizing a status or exercising powers not rightfully his (cf. Phil 2:6–7). Rather, he exercises his authority because God has granted it to him as the Son (5:25–26), and he exercises it in healing a man in need. This is the shape of divine authority demonstrated in Jesus. (Ibid., pp. 123-125)

20:24–31 Jesus Appears to Thomas: The Call to Faith

The Gospel records an appearance to Jesus’ disciples a week after his first appearance to them, this time with Thomas present. Jesus speaks pointedly to Thomas, showing him his hands and his side, and inviting him to believe; that is, to believe that Jesus is indeed risen and living and so to believe in him. To that invitation, Thomas responds with the climactic confession of the Gospel, “My Lord and my God!” Although elsewhere people have spoken of Jesus or addressed Jesus as Lord, and even “my Lord,” here is the first instance where someone explicitly acknowledges him as “my God.” Thomas is called to “believe,” to join with the beloved disciple, with Mary, and with the other disciples in acknowledging that he has indeed seen the Lord because the Lord is risen. Although Thomas does see the Lord and come to believe, Jesus reminds him—as the Gospel reminds all its readers—that there are many who will not see and will yet believe. They depend upon the apostolic testimony, enshrined in the pages of the Gospel, and the life-giving work of the Spirit in order to present Jesus so that they, too, may make the confession that Thomas here offers. (Ibid., p. 423)

It was Thomas who earlier lamented to Jesus, “We do not know where you are going” (14:5); now Thomas is implicitly invited to verify Jesus’ own promise that he will both live and return to the Father (14:19; 20:17). Interestingly, the Gospel does not tell us whether Thomas complies with Jesus’ invitation to reach his hand into Jesus’ wounds. Instead, it simply reports that Thomas responds to Jesus’ exhortation with the confession “My Lord and my God!” Although Jesus is frequently designated as “Lord,” or “the Lord,”35 in John, “my Lord” occurs only in postresurrection contexts (20:13). Similarly, the address to Jesus as “my God” is distinctive to the postresurrection setting. Although “the Jews” have challenged Jesus because he made himself equal to God, or made himself God, no one—not even Jesus’ disciples—has addressed Jesus as “my God” until now.

Thomas’s confession cannot mean that the risen Jesus alone is God, since earlier Jesus had distinguished himself from “the only true God” and from “my God and your God” (cf. 17:3; 20:17). The Father and Son are not simply “collapsed” into one; nor has the one whom Jesus himself so recently identified as “my God” (20:17) become the crucified and risen Lord himself. But the acclamation of the risen one as “my Lord and my God!” acknowledges the inclusion of Jesus, the Word made flesh, in the identity of that one called “the only true God” (1:1, 14), thus marking the other end of the confessional arc begun in the Gospel’s opening verses (1:1, 14). The narrative of the Gospel has demonstrated how the Father has entrusted to the Son all authority to give life and to judge: the Father has, therefore, made the Son “equal to God” (cf. comments on 5:18; 10:33). Thomas now articulates the Gospel’s Christology as personal confession.

As is typical of John, Thomas’s confession can be read in various contexts, including scriptural, Jewish, and Roman settings. First, and most important, Thomas’s words echo the psalmist’s address to God as “my God and my Lord” (ho theos mou kai ho kyrios mou, 34:23 LXX [35:23 Et]). One of the most common descriptors attached to “God” in the Old Testament and Jewish sources is either the singular or plural personal possessive pronoun: hence, “my God” or “our God.” “Our God” frequently identifies YHWH, the lord: a notable example is the Shema, where “the LORD” (YHWH) is identified not simply as “God” but as “our God” (Deut 6:4). “My God,” both with and without lord, is especially prominent in the Psalms, in petition, lament, and praise. Additionally, there are numerous examples in the Old Testament of the phrase “the Lord our God” (passim); “the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob” or variations thereof; “the God of Israel” (passim); or “God of my/our ancestors.” The “god” in question is thus identified with a specific person or people who honor and worship that particular deity as God.36 In John, then, those who honor the Son as they do the Father (5:23) acknowledge God as “our Father” and “our God” (20:17) and Jesus as “my Lord and my God.”

Thomas’s confession may also echo Jewish speculation on the names of God, especially as that speculation is connected with the “two powers” or “two measures” of God.37 In rabbinic literature, these two powers are judgment and mercy: Elohim (God) denoted God’s judgment, and YHWH (lord) pointed to God’s mercy. Philo, on the other hand, took theos (God; Hebrew, ʾĕlōhîm) to signify the creative power of God, and kyrios (Lord; Hebrew, YHWH) to refer to the royal or sovereign power of God. Philo further asserted that these two powers emanated from the Logos, the visible manifestation of God.38 The Gospel of John envisions the powers to give life and to judge as the distinctive powers of God active in and given to Jesus, the Word (Logos) made flesh (cf. John 5:25–27). Thus, when the Gospel of John asserts that Jesus brings both life and judgment, it evokes the biblical portrait, emphasized in Jewish interpretation, of God as creator and ruler.

The resurrection confirms Jesus’ identity as the living and life-giving one, the incarnation of the Word of God that was in the beginning (1:1), the one who has the Father’s life in himself (5:26), to whom God has given all judgment (5:27), and who now lives with the living Father (1:18; 6:57). The resurrection confirms Jesus’ identity as the one who has the divine prerogatives to give life and exercise God’s rule: because he lives, he indeed has “life in himself” and so can truly confer it on others (5:26; 10:18). Unless he had been raised to life, he could not continue to exercise these prerogatives; hence, without the resurrection, Jesus’ work would have been ended, brought to a full stop, rather than finished or brought to its goal (19:30).39

Finally, Thomas’s confession may direct the reader’s attention to imperial Rome and especially claims made by or for emperors.40 According to the Roman historian Suetonius, the emperor Domitian (81–96 C.E.) was styled by himself and others as “our lord and god” (dominus et deus noster).41 Whether that particular claim can be verified historically or not, “lord” and “god” were used of various emperors; and Suetonius thinks the claim possible, even if outrageous.42  Read against similar designations for the emperor, Thomas’s acclamation of Jesus as “my Lord and my God!” asserts that such honors rightfully belong to Jesus, not to Caesar (cf. 19:12, 15). While Thomas’s confession quite naturally articulates Jesus’ identity as it has been developed in John from its scriptural contexts, it indirectly refutes the attribution of similar designations to Caesar.43 (Ibid, pp. 425-426)

JESUS’ “I AM” SAYINGS

Jesus calls people to believe “that I am he” or “that I am” (pisteusēte hoti egō eimi, v. 24; cf. Isa 43:10).176 Here one might have expected an “I am” saying with a predicate, specifying what one is to believe about Jesus (e.g., “I am the light of the world). But there is a striking parallel between certain statements in Isaiah and Jesus’ words here. In Isaiah, people are to know or to believe that God is (hoti egō eimi), a statement that encompasses all that God is: the Lord, Savior, God, the Holy One, Creator, King, the one who makes a path in the sea (Isa 43:10–16). Each of these descriptions also characterizes Jesus in the Gospel of John. Even as God calls on Israel to bear witness to his unique identity as God—the one who is, who creates and saves all that is—so Jesus declares he is the one who is; by implication, he creates and saves all that is. As the point of his declarations become clearer, the responses will become more sharply negative; at present, no reaction to Jesus’ assertions is reported.

[25–27] Jesus’ use of egō eimi, redolent as it is of divine speech and coupled with the assertion that one must believe in him in order to live, leads naturally to the inquiry, “Just who are you?”177 Jesus’ response—“Why do I speak to you at all!”—suggests that the answer has already been given in the various discourses (chs. 5–7) where Jesus has asserted his identity as the Son who exercises God’s prerogatives, who has come down from heaven, and who speaks the words and does the will of God. Both Jesus’ identity and the substance of his teaching are grounded in “the one who sent me” (v. 26), a description of God particularly common in chapters 5–8 (17 of 31 Johannine occurrences). Jesus reiterates earlier assertions that his teaching is from the God who sent him (7:16), that he does not speak on his own authority (7:18), that those who hear him do not know his true origins or identity (7:28; 8:14, 23), that he alone truly knows God (7:28–29; 8:19), and that he has the power to give life (7:37–38; 8:12). But, as elsewhere in John, the fact that they do not yet know who he is (8:25) means that they cannot know the one who sent him, “the Father” (v. 27), for knowledge of the one implies knowledge of the other (v. 27; cf. 5:24; 12:44–45; 13:20; 15:21).

[28–30] Jesus then asserts that, after lifting up of the Son of Man, they will know (1) “that I am” (hoti egō eimi), (2) that he does not act on his own, and (3) that he teaches as the Father has taught him. “Lifting up” refers to Jesus’ crucifixion (“when you have lifted up”), which anticipates his resurrection and return to the Father. The resurrection will testify that Jesus has “life in himself” (5:26), that he can appropriately speak of himself as living and thus can declare, in the present tense, “I am” (egō eimi; 8:28; cf. 1:18). Just as God lives, so Jesus also lives (6:57). Still, the one who makes these claims asserts that he does nothing on his own authority or power; he speaks only as the Father has instructed him. In every way he is dependent on God; in every way God is with him, never abandoning him (v. 29; cf. 17:21–23). It is precisely this mutual relationship of Father and Son, expounded in John in terms of the Father’s own work and words being fully entrusted to and carried out by the Son (5:19–22, 26–27; 17:6–8, 10), which allows Jesus to use the language that God uses in Isaiah. These bold claims now lead “many” to believe in him, even as he has invited them to do. (Ibid., pp. 186-187)

[56–59] Jesus next implicitly summons Abraham as witness: “Your father Abraham rejoiced to see my day.” “The Jews” should show themselves worthy of the privilege of being “children of Abraham” by doing as Abraham did: rejoicing in Jesus’ coming.203 According to 4 Ezra 3.14, God revealed to Abraham “the end of the times”; it may be that such a tradition is in view here.204 However, “the Jews” understand Jesus to mean that he saw Abraham, that he was alive when Abraham was alive; they are thinking merely of chronological time. That is a misunderstanding, typical of the Gospel, as is the fact that Jesus corrects it, not with a direct explanation or rebuttal, but by shifting the ground and showing that their misunderstanding is corrected when they understand who he is (4:14–15, 25–26; 6:34–35). Abraham might have anticipated Jesus’ coming with joy; but he was not in fact anticipating someone who would come long after him, but rather someone who existed before he ever did. Jesus’ affirmation, “Before Abraham was, I am,” contrasts Abraham’s existence with Jesus’ existence: Abraham “was” or “came into being” (aorist: genesthai); but Jesus is (present: eimi; 8:58).205 This takes the reader back to the opening verses of the Gospel, to the existence of the Word in the beginning, and the creation of all things through the Word.

Jesus’ declaration, “Before Abraham was, I am,” echoes divine speech in the Old Testament, where God speaks in various statements beginning with “I am” (Exod 3:14; Isa 43:11, 13, 15, 25; 42:6; 44:24; 45:5–6; 48:12).206 Earlier in this discourse, Jesus has twice told the crowds that they must believe “that I am” or that they will believe “that I am” or “I am he” when they have lifted him up (John 8:24, 28; where “I am” translates egō eimi). Curiously, in those places, when Jesus uses the absolute “I am,” he is not charged with blasphemy, nor does anyone seek to stone him. There, the only response is puzzlement. It is not until Jesus promises that whoever believes in him will “never taste death” (vv. 51–52) and claims to have existed before Abraham ever was (8:58) that anyone tries to stone him. For with these assertions Jesus has claimed that he can give eternal life because he shares in it, and it is Jesus’ participation in the eternal life of God that comes to expression in the assertion “Before Abraham was, I am.” As the response of “the Jews” indicates, it is no less blasphemous than to make oneself equal to God (5:18; 10:33). 207 This climactic statement of Jesus reveals what is at stake in believing “that I am” (8:24, 28). (Ibid., pp. 196-197)

Jesus’ foreknowledge is now coupled with a quotation from Scripture. While in Matthew and Mark, Jesus states that “the Son of Man goes as it is written of him,”24 John supplies a text to explain Judas’s betrayal: “The one who has eaten my bread has lifted his heel against me” (Ps 41:9 [40:10 lxx; 41:10 Mt]).25 Even as David was betrayed and exposed to death by his close associates, so too Jesus is handed over to his death by those who are among his “chosen,” his intimate friends (cf. 15:18, 25).26 And yet Jesus is not caught off guard. He has told his disciples what will happen before it does happen so that they “will believe that I am” (13:19).27 His identity as the divine life-giving one, expressed in the absolute “I am” statements, might seem to be threatened by certain events, particularly the subversive action of his disciple that leads to his death on the cross; yet even here Jesus will manifest his divine identity for those who have eyes to see (cf. 8:28). Not only does he demonstrate his foreknowledge; he also alerts the disciples that his death on a cross does not obscure God’s glory but reveals that glory. (Ibid., pp. 291-292)

[4–9] Aware of what is to come, Jesus charts his own destiny in keeping with God’s commands (13:1–4). Earlier, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, Jesus stooped to wash the feet of his disciples, thus foreshadowing his upcoming death as an act of self-giving love and of purification. Here, with the knowledge of what is to come, Jesus prods the band of soldiers: “Whom are you looking for?” (18:4). Jesus does not shrink from what is coming: he steps forward to meet his captors, who will hand him over to death. As he had said earlier, “No one takes [my life] from me, but I lay it down on my own” (10:18). Even if in the end the Romans do put Jesus on a cross, they do so only because Jesus allows and even wills it. The one who has and is life gives himself over to death.

Jesus identifies himself to those who have come to seek him. Twice he asks them, “Whom are you looking for?” (vv. 4, 7); twice they say, “Jesus of Nazareth”7 (vv. 5, 7); twice Jesus identifies himself to them (vv. 6, 8). The first time he responds simply, “I am he” (egō eimi); the second time he states, “I told you that I am he” (eipon hymin hoti egō eimi). While egō eimi is simply an ordinary means of self-identification,8 it is also the mode of God’s self-identification in the LXX, especially in those parts of Isaiah where God asserts his uniqueness (Isa 43:10, 13, 25; 44:6, 24; 45:5, 18). With these words resonant of divine self-revelation, Jesus acknowledges himself to the troops who have come for him, and when he does, they fall to the ground. “Fell to the ground” does not necessarily indicate bowing in worship or subservience; for such acts the typical biblical expression is “fell on their faces.”9 Needless to say, it is unlikely that a contingent of Roman soldiers understood the significance of Jesus’ self-identification as echoing the Septuagint translation of Isaiah. But the narrative does present these Romans unwittingly in the proper posture of honor and as powerless in the presence of Jesus.10 (Ibid., pp. 395-396)

Excursus 5: The “I Am” Sayings of John

Characteristic of Jesus’ speech in the Gospel of John are a number of revelatory sayings that begin with or include the Greek phrase egō eimi (“I am,” “I am he,” “it is I”).113 In these various sayings, Jesus speaks in formulations and imagery aligning himself with God’s self-revelations as creator and sovereign in Isaiah. In John, Jesus’ egō eimi statements point to his “unique role as the revelatory and salvific presence of God.”114

The Old Testament context is of the utmost importance for interpreting these sayings since, on its own, egō eimi can simply be an ordinary way in which a speaker identifies oneself. The phrase can be used this way in John, but this is not its most distinctive usage.

The various sayings in John can be distinguished and categorized as follows:

1. There are seven “I am” (egō eimi) sayings with a predicate,115 in which Jesus reveals who he is, and what he brings or offers to the world:

I am the bread of life. (6:35)

I am the light of the world. (8:12; 9:5)

I am the door for the sheep. (10:7, 9)

I am the good shepherd. (10:11, 14)

I am the resurrection and the life. (11:25)

I am the way, the truth, and the life. (14:6)

I am the vine. (15:1)

These are statements in which Jesus identifies himself with a particular entity or figure and, more specifically, with entities that give life or can be identified as life itself (11:25; 14:6).

2. There are sayings without a predicate in which egō eimi is the speaker’s way of acknowledging himself in response to an explicit or implicit query such as, “Who is it?” or “Who is there?” or “Is that you?” Thus, when the blind man’s neighbors doubt that he is the man who was healed, he insists: “It is I!” (egō eimi, “I am the one” or “I am he!”; 9:9; cf. 2 Sam 2:20).

Several times in the Gospel, Jesus uses egō eimi simply to acknowledge his presence:

I am he [egō eimi], the one speaking to you. (4:26)

It is I [egō eimi]; do not be afraid. (6:20)

I am [egō eimi] the one who bears witness. (8:18)116

I am he [egō eimi]. (18:6)

I told you that I am he [eipon hymin hoti egō eimi]. (18:8)117

In such statements, “I am” is an ordinary means of self-identification in Greek. Without the other categories of such “I am” statements, they would probably not call attention to themselves.

3. In four other statements, Jesus uses egō eimi without any predicate. In three of these statements, a verb for know or believe is followed by hoti (“that”) and egō eimi (“I am”):

For if you do not believe [pisteusēte] that I am [egō eimi], you will die in your sins. (8:24)

When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know [gnōsesthe] that it is I [egō eimi]. (8:28)118

Before Abraham was, I am [egō eimi]. (8:58)

So that . . . you will believe [pisteusēte] that I am [egō eimi]. (13:19)

It is this third group of sayings, in which egō eimi is used as the object of what one believes, that raise questions about the meaning of all Jesus’ “I am” sayings in John. The starting point for their interpretation, and perhaps for all the “I am” sayings, is the Old Testament, and particularly God’s self-identification in a number of places, including Exod 3:14; Deut 32:39; and Isaiah (esp. 43:10, 11; 45:3).119

First, the “I am” sayings of John are often taken to reflect God’s identification of himself in the memorable formulation “I am who I am” (ʾehyeh ʾăšer ʾehyeh) or “I will be who I will be” (Exod 3:14 and mg.). The LXX renders the Hebrew of Exod 3:14 as egō eimi ho ōn, “I am the one who is,” thus characterizing God or God’s identity in terms of ongoing existence (cf. John 5:26). In spite of the fact that Moses asks God what his name is, the Hebrew verb form ʾehyeh does not recur as a name for God; neither is the Greek egō eimi found as God’s name elsewhere in the LXX.120

Alluding to the LXX, the first-century Jewish exegete Philo repeatedly refers to God either as ho ōn (“the one who is”) or, more frequently, as to on, “that which is.” On Exod 3:14, Philo even comments, “[God] has no proper name, . . . for it is not the nature of him that is to be spoken of, but simply to be” (Somn. 1.230–33; Mut. 11–15; Deus 62; Det. 160; Decal. 58). In other words, the LXX, and Philo’s use of it, show that the revelation of God in Exod 3:14 was understood to emphasize God’s sheer existence, the fact that God simply is. There are instances in John where Jesus’ “I am” sayings particularly emphasize that he has, and can give, that sort of divine life; that he “is” as God is (e.g., John 8:58).

Second, there are numerous places in Scripture where God identifies himself to Israel and its patriarchs with statements such as “I am the Lord” (Gen 15:7); “I am the God of your father Abraham” (Gen 26:24) or “I am God, the God of your father” (Gen 46:3); or “I am the LORD your God” (Exod 6:7; 16:12; 20:2; and frequently in Leviticus). The Septuagint translates the various underlying Hebrew expressions121 either with egō eimi or egō (“I”) and the appropriate predicate; English translations use “I am.” It is a characteristic of divine speech in the Old Testament for God to describe and present himself by means of such declarations. But without the predicates, the Greek egō eimi (and its underlying Hebrew) would be neither particularly revelatory nor characteristic of divine speech. As with the first category of sayings, it is the predicates themselves that are significant.

Third, other passages in the Old Testament are particularly suggestive for John’s use of the absolute egō eimi (8:24, 28, 58; and perhaps 4:26; 6:20; 18:5, 8), where the underlying Mt expression is ʾănî hûʾ, often best translated not merely as “I am” but as “I am he.” In particular, there are several important passages in Isaiah, as well as the only Mt occurrence of ʾănî hûʾ outside Isa 40–55: “See now that I, even I, am he; there is no god besides me. I kill and I make alive; I wound and I heal; and no one can deliver from my hand” (Deut 32:39). The statement calls for recognition of God in light of his selfdeclaration as “I am he” (ʾănî hûʾ, egō eimi), while simultaneously acknowledging God to be the one who has the power over life and death. God’s declaration in Deut 32:39 casts light on Jesus’ “I am” sayings since, in John, God’s power over life is given to the Son. The “I am” sayings with predicates (the first category above) underscore the same point.

A number of sayings in Isa 40–55 reflect the rhetorical pattern where God speaks in the first person, emphatically asserting his uniqueness, such as these:

I, the LORD, am first, and will be the last. (41:4)

I, I am the LORD, and besides me there is no savior. (43:11)

I am God, and also henceforth I am He. (43:13)

I am the LORD. (43:15; see also 46:4; 48:12; 52:6)122

In such statements one finds different Hebrew expressions for these first-person assertions, including ʾănî, ʾănî hûʾ, or ʾānōkî, ʾānōkî ʾānōkî. These forms are translated in the LXX either with egō or with egō eimi. Again, the predicates are needed to complete the thought.

But particularly striking are the parallels between Isa 43:10 LXX and the absolute Johannine sayings that use the verbs “believe” or “know” (John 8:24, 28; 13:19):

hina gnōte kai pisteusēte kai synēte hoti egō eimi, that you may know and believe and understand that I am. (Isa 43:10 LXX)

ean gar mē pisteusēte hoti egō eimi, if you do not believe that I am. (John 8:24)

tote gnōsesthe hoti egō eimi, then you will know that I am. (8:28)

hina pisteusēte hotan genētai hoti egō eimi, that you will believe when it happens that I am. (13:19)

According to Isaiah, people are to know, believe, and understand that God is (LXX, hoti egō eimi; Mt, kî ʾănî hûʾ). In John, people are called to believe or know that Jesus is (hoti egō eimi). Like the Father before him, the Son now reveals himself as the one who is.123 Not only is the pattern of Jesus’ speech in John redolent of Old Testament patterns of divine speech in grammatical form; Jesus’ assertions also duplicate the object of what one is to believe or know (“that I am he,” hoti egō eimi). In Isaiah, God’s declaration “that I am he” is followed by the emphatic denial “Before me no god was formed, nor shall there be any after me” (43:10). These assertions are typical of monotheistic rhetoric, not only in Isaiah, but also in Jewish apologetic literature, in which God is depicted as declaring emphatically that he alone is God.124 In John, Jesus’ various declarations, using egō eimi (“I am”), underscore his unique status with respect to his role in conferring the Father’s gift of life: there is no other bread of life, no other light for the world, no other vine. The definite article (the bread of life, the light of the world) identifies Jesus with these realities exclusively. What he offers is himself: he offers the bread of life because he himself is life (John 1:4).

Both the form and content of Jesus’ egō eimi statements, with and without a predicate, reflect the form and content of divine speech in Isaiah: Jesus’ statements are like the monotheistic rhetoric of Isaiah that declares God to be the only God because God alone is the living God, creator of all. The Johannine “I am” statements, particularly those with predicates (life, bread, resurrection, vine), reinforce Jesus’ identity as the one who mediates the life of the living Father (6:57). Together these patterns of speech illumine the “absolute” egō eimi sayings. They show that Jesus speaks as God does, making similar claims for his unique identity, an identity located above all in the power to give life. But apart from context, neither the Hebrew ʾǎnî hûʾ nor the Greek egō eimi carries those connotations: they simply mean “I am” or “It is I.” While Jesus speaks the way God speaks, it is what he asserts about himself that links him to God (cf. the assertions of those kings who boast in their powers in Ezek 27:3; 28:2, 9; and see the extended comments on “equal to God” at John 5:18). Even as God declares his uniqueness, so also Jesus presents himself as God does: as the one in whom there is life for all and hence as the object of faith. (Ibid., pp. 157-160)

118. Perhaps this might be interpreted, “You will know that I am the Son of Man,” “You will know that I am he,” or “that I am.”

119. For egō eimi in the Synoptic Gospels, see Matt 26:22, 25 (KJV, “Lord, is it I?”). For egō eimi used by Jesus to acknowledge himself, see Mark 14:62; Luke 24:39; used by others, Mark 13:6; Luke 21:8; 22:70; 24:39. Egō eimi is also spoken by Jesus in conjunction with the sea crossing (Matt 14:27; Mark 6:50).

120. Aquila and Theodotion rendered the Hebrew of Exod 3:14 with the future tense esomai (hos) esomai (“I will be who I will be”).

121. E.g., ʾănî YHWH, Gen 15:7; ʾănî-ʾĒl Šadday, Gen 17:1; ʾānōkî ʾĔlōhê ʾAbrāhām, Gen 26:24.

122. Cf. other places in the lxx where God says egō eimi: Isa 43:25; 45:8, 18–19; 46:9; 48:17; 51:12; Babylon’s false claims (47:8, 10) are couched in the same form. (Ibid., pp. 158-159)

FURTHER READING

A HERETIC PROVES THE FATHER IS NOT GOD

Michael Brown Vs. Dale Tuggy

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