John 18:1-4 – Getting Christological Perspective
If you’re acquainted with the synoptic gospels, in reading John 18:1-4 you may notice some substantial differences. What’s missing here is the time of tarrying and waiting, the prayer, any sort of agony or question about what Jesus was about to go through is gone. Verse 4 puts the different feel of the text into words when it says, “Jesus, knowing all that was going to happen to him . . .” (TNIV).
So which is it? Was Jesus confident and in control, finally giving up his own life, or did he pray that the cup might pass from him? One could try to reconcile these by saying that he knew, but he also wished to avoid, but I think it’s impossible to read the passion story in the gospel of John without seeing a different picture of Jesus than the synoptics portray, always assuming that one lets John speak for himself, and each of the synoptic writers for himself.
But I’m going to suggest that nonetheless “which is it?” is the wrong question. This is where we get into mystery. Orthodox christology holds that Jesus is fully human and fully divine. Human logic balks at the combination. When we think about Jesus we generally are either thinking of him as more human or more divine. Lacking an infinite perspective, we have to see something finite. In our minds 2 * fully (or 2 * 100%) is just too much to see at once.
So we have different pictures in the gospels, because being written by finite people (inspired by God) and in finite human language, they can only give us part of the perspective at once. In John we see the divinity of Jesus in the foreground. In Luke especially (22:39-51) we see a much more human Jesus. Again, “which is it?” is the wrong question to ask. It is both, which is how the doctrine developed.
When we see all the Biblical perspectives on Jesus we realize that he cannot be simply one thing. Various christological heresies have tried to make some one perspective be the perspective. But we can be sure that any explanation that makes too much sense, that makes it too simple to understand isn’t adequate to the task.
I’m reminded also of God’s work in a person’s life. Who am I? Am I Henry Neufeld, defined by my history, my education, my actions in the past? Or am I a human being in the process of sanctification by the Holy Spirit, with Christ dwelling in me? I assure you that I don’t present the kind of challenge that Jesus, fully human and fully divine, does. But I do present contradictions, and I do look different when you look at me from the perspective of the work God is doing on me.
In Hebrews 11 we have person after person who was called and used by God. The presentation of these people is invariably more positive than what you find in the Hebrew scriptures. Sarah is filled with faith, rather than laughter. Moses doesn’t fear the wrath of the king, even though he flees. I think Hebrews 11 looks at these people in terms of what God is doing in them, not who they were on their own.
We can’t have a God’s eye view. God has the infinite expression. But by looking from these various angles that scripture provides, we two can see just a little of what God sees.
Henry, at the risk of being accused of illegitimate harmonisation, I would suggest that there is no real contrast here. John is explicitly (21:25) giving only an outline of events, and he may well assume that his readers have some knowledge of the synoptic gospels. So between 18:1 and 18:2 he skips most of the narrative of the agony in the garden and moves straight to its confident conclusion, seen also in the synoptics (Matthew 26:45-46, Mark 14:41-42, not in Luke). John’s “knowing” should not be understood as “having always known”; this formally perfect participle very likely means in context “having come to know”, having accepted for himself through the agony that there is no alternative to his death.
I wouldn’t disagree with your reconciliation from the historical point of view. Nonetheless, considering what John does say, I think omitting the agony does have a theological purpose and tends to put the focus on the divine more than the human. I think this carries on through the entire passion week in John.
It’s not just omission to abbreviate; it’s a focus on what John wants us to see most clearly–the divine Son of God doing what God ordained he should do and what He has chosen to do.
Henry, I agree that the omission was not random but corresponded to the picture John wanted to present. But I wanted to suggest an alternative to your “either-or” and “both-and” interpretations, which is a “first-next” interpretation: the historical Jesus was first in an agony of indecision, and then when he had made the decision he was confident and in control. And I don’t see the latter as a manifestation of Jesus’ divinity, which was always in the background during his earthly life, but of his perfected human obedience to God’s will. As such he can be an example to us when we are faced with similar difficult situations, in a way in which he couldn’t if he were operating in his divine nature: if he could face this situation confidently and in control, trusting that God would vindicate him, so can and should we.