John’s Attribution of Humanity and Divinity to Jesus: Comparing The Balance Or Imbalance in The Two

The Evangelist’s depiction of Jesus throughout the fourth Gospel has been subject to ample scholarly scrutiny since antiquity and, to this day, questions regarding the interpretation of Jesus’ personhood still prompt debate amongst Biblical critics. It does seem that the author of John writes with an awareness of Jesus’ human and divine aspects and the importance of the reinforcement of these aspects for a true understanding of the miraculous gift of the incarnation. However, we cannot ignore tensions between these elements throughout the text; some imbalance and occasional ambiguity in terms of the depiction of Jesus’ humanity and divinity leads to a somewhat confusing portrayal of the extent of Christ’s humanity and has prompted some to attribute Docetic, Adoptionist and Gnostic agendas to the Gospel. This essay aims to offer an overview of John’s portrayal of Christ’s personhood examining, in turn, those elements which point to his divinity and those which point to his humanity, and to subsequently assess whether any imbalance between Jesus’ divine and human aspects from which we could potentially deduce Docetic, Adoptionist or Gnostic overtones, is detectable. Ultimately, I will seek to sustain the line of argument that the Evangelist does, predominantly, present an illustration of Jesus representative of his true dual nature; John certainly takes the time to sufficiently emphasize both aspects of his person. Though there may perhaps be holes within his depiction in terms of theology and, though there may be moments where John treads a fine line in terms of balancing Jesus’ humanity with his divinity, there is an evidently clear intention, at least, to balance the two parts of his nature into a coherent understanding of the word becoming flesh.

A reader can begin, then, with an examination of John’s face-value depiction of Jesus’ nature and his human and divine aspects. John’s alignment of Jesus with divinity is evident from the very opening of the Gospel; Christ is the ‘logos’, the divine word which pre-existed with God at the creation of everything. The author’s mirroring the language of Genesis 1:1 suggests an attempt to reinforce Jesus’ pre-existence with God; he precedes this Gospel and the story of Jesus which it tells. The positioning of Jesus as the word at creation also serves to demonstrate Christ’s divinity over Old Testament prophets and messengers; the Son pre-dates them all and is ‘before’ them temporally and in significance, an idea we see solidified by the words of John the Baptist who bears witness to the fact that ‘He who comes after me ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ (1:15) Within the context of first century Judaism, it is worth taking note of John’s symbolic use of the number seven, representative of divine perfection; Jesus performs seven signs, despite the fact that there were more to record (‘there are also many other things that Jesus did’ (21:25)) and is recorded as making use of the ‘I am’ sayings on seven occasions. The Evangelist is perhaps using the number of divine perfection to draw attention to the divinity in the man Jesus. The ‘I am’ sayings themselves draw a powerful link between Jesus and the God of the Old Testament and, in turn, ultimate divinity; ‘ego emi’ is used in the context of divine revelation: ‘I am who I am…I am has sent me to you.’ (Exodus 3:14) Though some dispute any purposeful paralleling here, it seems likely, at least, that the Evangelist was aware of the mirroring of the language of the scriptures, especially since ‘ego emi’ precedes revelations regarding Jesus’ divine nature and aspects of his character e.g. ‘I am the bread of life’, ‘I am the light of the world’, ‘I am the resurrection and the life.’

John explicitly states the unity of the Father with the Son and therefore validates the divinity of Jesus as the one whom the Father sent. Christ explains that ‘I and the Father are one’ (10:30) and reiterates at 10:38 that ‘the Father is in me and I am in the Father.’ In addition, Borgen notes that ‘in 10:37-8 and in 14:10-11 the oneness between the Son and the Father is made manifest in Jesus’ words and works which also are said to be the works of the Father[1].’ 14:10 talks of the Father ‘dwelling’ in Jesus. As Coloe notes, the reiteration of the Son title affirms Jesus’ position as one of ultimate, familial closeness to the divine, ‘It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart.’ (1:18) Coloe also highlights the theme of the Son as ‘the tabernacle/temple of God’s presence[2].’ Some have suggested that when John talks of the word ‘dwelling’ among us, we should understand this to mean that the word tabernacled among us; the tabernacle is the ultimate closeness to God and Jesus, as the new temple, is ‘the way…no man comes to the father but by Me.’ (14:6) Moreover, as Thompson observes, ‘…the Gospel affirms Jesus’ divine identity in the strongest possible terms: not only does one see the revelation of God in Jesus, Jesus is confessed as “God” (1:1; 20-29)[3]’ But, simultaneously, ‘in confessing Jesus as “God” the Fourth Gospel never denies Jesus’ humanity. In fact, in arguing that in Jesus’ life and death one sees God active, the Gospel is unyielding in its demands that one look at the one who was flesh, who performed signs among them, and who died on a Roman cross[4].’

However, despite John’s insistence on Jesus’ divine nature, he does not, for the most part, allow this to overshadow the importance of Jesus as fully human; John does not seem to understand Sarx as mere flesh but successfully paints the image of Christ which the Nicene Fathers would come to characterize as fully God and fully man. Miracle-working, for example, though evidently a demonstration of Jesus’ divinity does not in any way compromise his full humanity for John. As Thompson maintains, ‘typically, Jesus’ miracle-working is understood as an extraordinary activity which distinguishes and separates him from the rest of humanity…but that uniqueness may not be construed in such a way that it negates Jesus’ humanity…on the one hand, the signs do not efface Jesus’ humanity, because he does them only by virtue of his relation to and dependence on the Father. On the other hand, the signs underscore the claim that the works of this human being reveal God’s own activity[5].’ The Evangelist seems keen to emphasize Jesus’ earthly origins; upon the lips of the Jews he reminds the reader that Jesus is born of Mary and Joseph. This doesn’t counter his divinity, however, especially in the light of the prologue which takes pains to emphasize Jesus’ divine origins as the first point of address. I think that this reminder of Jesus’ earthly origins is depicted as coming from ‘the Jews’ in order for the author to raise and discuss the issue; John is aware perhaps of the doubts which his readers might have regarding Jesus’ seemingly mundane heritage and this allows him to reiterate the paradox of the incarnation. Thompson paraphrases Bultmann’s point on this succinctly: ‘…Jesus’ human heritage was offensive to ‘the Jews’. Yet he argued that the evangelist not only accepted the facts of Jesus’ human origins, but that he took pains to emphasize them precisely because they raise the paradox of Jesus’ person…although Jesus’ human origins are an offense, they do not negate his claim to be Revealer of God[6].’ The author might also raise the issue to reaffirm that only certain contemporaries of Jesus believed or were intended to believe; the Jews’ questioning Jesus’ origins at 6:42 is followed almost immediately by Jesus’ assertion that ‘everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me.’ (6:42) It seems that John is looking to celebrate the uniqueness of Jesus in terms of heritage and this does not stamp out his humanity; ‘for Jesus to be truly human must he be exactly and only like all other humans? The answer of the fourth evangelist to that question is no. He does accept Jesus’ humanity; but he also confesses that he who was known as the ‘son of Joseph’ is the Son of God, that he who became flesh is the Word of God, that he who performed signs is the light of the world and bread from heaven, and that he who died on the cross is the resurrection and the life[7].’

Jesus’ death is a jarring reminder for John’s readers that Jesus if fully at the mercy of worldly events; as Thompson observes, ‘Jesus’ death places him firmly in this world. By portraying that death as the result of the forces of this world, the Gospel shows that Jesus has entered fully into that human, fleshy, material world[8].’ Jesus’ reasons for dying exemplify perfectly his nature as a divine and human being; the death is certainly something understood to be of God’s design (“Am I not to drink the cup that the Father has given me?”(18:11)) yet crucifixion as a method of execution is the choice of human beings and the evil events leading up to Jesus’ death on the cross are due to the actions of human beings. Christ, as both divine and human, is at the mercy of divine and human action physically manifested in the crucifixion. At a more basic level, the evangelist includes frequent references to Jesus’ physical body, bodily functions and his human emotions; he tires, for example,(“Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well” (4:6)) and thirsts (“I am thirsty” (19:28)). John also allows us to see Jesus’ human soul and human reflexes when he cries at the death of Lazarus: ‘he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved… Jesus began to weep.’ (11:33-35) Even after his resurrection, Jesus’ possession of a physical body is crucially reiterated: ‘see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side.’ (20:27) In yet another poignant moment, Jesus’ dual nature is manifested; John juxtaposes Thomas’ recognition of Jesus’ physical body with his immediate comprehension of his divinity: ‘My Lord and my God!’ (20:28) However, despite John’s affirmation that Jesus has a physical body here, there is a bit of a consistency worry in that Jesus appears to be able to walk through walls, a skill he arguably wouldn’t possess if he truly had a physical body at this stage: ‘the doors being shut where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them.’ (20:19) However, given that Jesus has performed signs throughout the Gospel, and has just risen from the dead, it doesn’t seem too much of a stretch to imagine this as another of Jesus’ miraculous actions. He has a human body but can act in a divine way. Moreover, it is perhaps inaccurate to judge John’s intention within the text by such a minor inconsistency. I don’t think it is obvious at all that John intended to demonstrate anything here, it could well have just been a continuity oversight. Perhaps a more relevant denial of Jesus’ humanity is in the denial of his suffering at the crucifixion; all three synoptic accounts offer some depiction of Jesus crying out on the cross. John offers a dignified portrayal of Jesus silently giving up his spirit as he utters the words ‘It is finished.’ (19:30) But does the omission of suffering really constitute the denial of Jesus’ humanity? It doesn’t seem so; John also chooses to omit a birth and infancy narrative but this doesn’t mean he denies these aspects of Jesus’ humanity. Perhaps he merely chooses to focus on the divine incarnation as an amalgamation of divinity and humanity. The incarnation is what is crucial, and its soteriological purpose; ‘it is finished’ connotes completion of a grand plan and offers a more literary ending to a literary gospel. Perhaps we should allow the author some poetic license here as opposed to presuming him to be denying Christ’s humanity. Kasemann argues there to be a clear imbalance of divine over human elements within the person of Jesus in John; we are confronted with a portrayal of ‘God striding over the earth.’ Is the Gospel of John inherently docetic? Kasemann asks, ‘in what sense is he flesh, who walks on the water and through closed doors, who cannot be captured by his enemies…he cannot be deceived by men because he knows their innermost thoughts even before they speak…How does all this agree with the understanding of a realistic incarnation? Does the statement ‘The Word became flesh’ really mean more than that he descended into the world of man and there came into contact with earthly existence, so that an encounter with him became possible?[9]’ It does seem to be the case that, given many of the divine elements of Jesus, his true humanity must be compromised. This is especially true when it comes to Jesus’ omniscience. As Larsen observes, ‘if Jesus holds divine being from the beginning, he must also be endowed with the divine point of view…Jesus appears with much more awareness of his own divine being…than in the Synoptic Gospels…the omniscience of Jesus is also apparent in the fact that he is at every moment aware of what is going on inside the other actors and what will happen in the further course of history[10].’ It is difficult to say whether this divine knowledge really stands to negate Jesus’ humanity but it certainly doesn’t make him within the realm of normal human beings. Then again, as mentioned earlier, there is no reason why Jesus cannot be depicted as a unique human being. If John had wished to deny Christ’s humanity, surely he would have removed the decidedly human elements previously mentioned especially those including bodily functions such as drinking and crying. Though we may question how it could possibly be the case that Jesus had divine knowledge and be fully human, the author of the Gospel could quite easily have had these doubts also. This is more a technical theological worry than a worry about the intention of the Gospel. It is as Thompson puts it when he writes that ‘Jesus clearly is human: his human origins, flesh, and death are common to “all flesh”; his signs are worked in dependence on God as is appropriate to one who is flesh. The Gospel unhesitatingly places Jesus within the material, human sphere, where his signs and death effect life and salvation[11].’

There is potentially a sense in which John makes use of docetism in the sense which Larsen talks of it, namely in the form of ‘narrative docetism’ but this is not tantamount to claiming that John has any historical religious allegiance to the docetic heresy (as it is now considered.) As Larsen explains, ‘John did what Paul could not, would not, or simply did not: he shaped a high Christology within the literary frame of elaborate narrative. By telling the story of an omniscient divine being, he reached the limits of the logical possibilities given to any storyteller, since the tension of narrative normally comes from the limited knowledge and the perspective point of view of the narrated actors. John, however, does not compromise by lowering his high Christology for the sake of narrative dynamics and thus creates the effect of ‘narrative docetism[12].’ This theory certainly accounts for the seemingly illogical elements within the Gospel and makes sense of the fact that John didn’t remove the evidence of Jesus’ humanity; he wasn’t a docetic but simply fell into narrative docetism as by-product of his maintenance of Jesus’ divine omniscience. John was, perhaps, unintentionally docetic but we cannot, purely on the evidence of the Gospel, burden the author with this loaded historical title.

As opposed to the wholesale denial of Jesus’ humanity a la docetism, many have attempted to demonstrate an extent to which the fourth Gospel offers an adoptionist understanding of the incarnation, espousing the view that ‘the union of the logos or Son of God with Jesus of Nazareth took place in the descent of the Spirit at his Baptism[13].’ Waston argues that this adoptionism seems likely given John’s omission of any birth narrative and the fact that he challenges Jesus’ coming from Bethlehem and the notion that he was born of Mary and Joseph. However, this challenge is on the lips of the Jews who always, in John, seem to espouse the incorrect views about Christ. They are frequently shut down by Jesus’ argument and are polemicized throughout the text. Why should we suddenly decide that their challenge of Jesus’ earthly origins is therefore the view of the Evangelist? Waston also notes that John places a considerable amount of significance on John the Baptist. One potential explanation for this is that he is the crucial witness, the only witness to the descent of the Spirit. Though the idea of a second divine hypostasis was most likely a strange one to a first century Jewish author, ‘our examination of the Christology of Cerinthus has shown that belief in a second divine hypostasis could be closely connected to Jewish Christian adoptionism. The fact that the narrative of the fourth Gospel begins with the Baptist’s witness to the descent of the Spirit onto Jesus suggests that the same adoptionism is present there. For this reason, the Baptist’s witness is unique, superior even to that of the apostles: he alone saw the supreme event in which divinity and humanity became one[14].’ However, I think that the key passage in refutation of this adoptionist idea is 1:14. The ‘word became flesh’; the idea of becoming flesh is arguably something much more than merely inhabiting flesh; the word didn’t find a body and simply move in, it becomes flesh, changes into flesh, embodies itself. I don’t think that adoptionist ideas really do justice to the use and significance of this ‘becoming.’

Some have suggested that the ascent and descent motif present throughout the Gospel offers significant evidence for the notion that Jesus is represented by John as the Gnostic ‘man of light’, their revealer of the gnosis which would allow them to ascend to the spiritual realm from whence they fell. According to Bultmann, John’s depiction of Jesus matches that of the Gnostic revealer: ‘A heavenly being is sent down from the world of light to the earth, which has fallen under the sway of the demonic powers, in order to liberate the sparks of light, which have their origin in the world of light, but owing to a fall in primeval times, have been compelled to inhabit human bodies. This emissary takes a human form, and carries out the works entrusted to him by the Father; as a result he is not cut off from the Father. He reveals himself in his utterances (‘I am the shepherd’, etc.) and so brings about the separation of the seeing from the blind to whom he appears as a stranger. His own harken to him, and he awakes in them the memory of their home of light, teaches them to recognise their own true nature, and teaches them also the way of return to their home, to which he, as a redeemed Redeemer, rises again[15].’

Jesus’ ascent and descent does allow him special gnosis which could quite easily be construed as the gnosis to which the Gnostics refer. Equally, however, this special knowledge which Jesus’ ascent and descent provides could simply be a method through which to distinguish him from all others in the world. After all, a divine Son of God would naturally possess this knowledge, it doesn’t necessary render him a man of light. Moreover, it could be the case, as Meeks notes, that ‘it is supposed to represent the union of heaven and earth, the spiritual and the physical, eternity and history, God and man[16].’ I think that, in general, there is not enough full Gnosticism in John to attribute this religious view to the author; after all, he makes nothing of one of the most principal tenets of Gnosticism, that the world is inherently evil. It could well be the case that, in referring to Jesus as ‘the light of the world’ and in reinforcing this ascent and descent motif, John is attempting to appeal to Gnostics, perhaps in an attempt to convert them to follow Christ as their long- awaited revealer? There is perhaps more evidence for this view than that the author himself was a Gnostic. But the evidence is not particularly convincing in either case due to the incompleteness of explication of the Gnostic stance in John.

Predominantly, the Evangelist does justice to Jesus’ dual nature as fully human and fully divine; the pains he takes to emphasize each of these elements is testament to the fact that an affirmation of both aspects of his person was John’s absolute intention. We cannot ignore the fact that there are some holes in John’s illustration with some elements of Jesus’ divinity seemingly overpowering his humanity. But these worries are, ultimately, in the realm of technical theology and not in the realm of the Evangelist’s intentions when composing his Gospel. Though it is certainly worth considering potential influence on John from docetic, adoptionist and Gnostic movements, I think these are ultimately dismissible; it seems that the evidence in favour of John’s commitment to any of these ideologies is not sufficient to counter the evidence of his efforts to depict the balance of the incarnation properly.

[1] Borgen, P., 1997. ‘God’s Agent in the Fourth Gospel,’ in J. Ashton (ed.), The Interpretation of John (2nd edition; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark) [2] Coloe, M.L., 2011. ‘John’s Portrait of Jesus,’ in D. Burkett (ed.), The Blackwell Companion to Jesus (Malden, Oxford and Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell) [3] Thompson, M.M., 1988. The Humanity of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel (Philadelphia: Fortress) [4] ibid. [5] ibid. [6] ibid. [7] Thompson, M.M., 1988. The Humanity of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel (Philadelphia: Fortress) [8] ibid. [9] Käsemann, E., 1968. The Testament of Jesus (London: SCM) [10] Bauckham, R.J., and Mosser, C. (eds), 2008. The Gospel of John and Christian Theology (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans). [11] Thompson, M.M., 1988. The Humanity of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel (Philadelphia: Fortress) [12] Bauckham, R.J., and Mosser, C. (eds), 2008. The Gospel of John and Christian Theology (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans). [13] Watson, F., 1987. ‘Is John’s Christology Adoptionist?’ in L.D. Hurst and N.T. Wright (eds), The Glory of Christ in the New Testament (Oxford: Clarendon Press) [14] ibid. [15] Bultmann, Die Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart. [16] Meeks, W.A., 1997. ‘The Man from Heaven in Johannine Sectarianism,’ in J. Ashton (ed.), The Interpretation of John (2nd edition; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark)

Works Cited

1. Borgen, P. (1997). God’s Agent in the Fourth Gospel. In J. Ashton (Ed.), The Interpretation of John (2nd edition; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark).
2. Bauckham, R. J., & Mosser, C. (Eds.). (2008). The Gospel of John and Christian Theology. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans.
3. Coloe, M. L. (2011). John’s Portrait of Jesus. In D. Burkett (Ed.), The Blackwell Companion to Jesus (Malden, Oxford and Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell).
4. Käsemann, E. (1968). The Testament of Jesus. London: SCM.
5. Meeks, W. A. (1997). The Man from Heaven in Johannine Sectarianism. In J. Ashton (Ed.), The Interpretation of John (2nd edition; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark).
6. Thompson, M. M. (1988). The Humanity of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel. Philadelphia: Fortress.
7. Watson, F. (1987). Is John’s Christology Adoptionist? In L. D. Hurst & N. T. Wright (Eds.), The Glory of Christ in the New Testament (Oxford: Clarendon Press).