The Weekly Francis – 27 December 2017

francis-reading

This version of The Weekly Francis covers material released in the last week from 21 December 2017 to 27 December 2017.

Homilies

Messages

Speeches

Papal Tweets

  • “Without love, both life and faith are worthless.” @Pontifex 21 December 2017
  • “Let us free Christmas from the worldliness that has taken it hostage! The true spirit of Christmas is the beauty of being loved by God.” @Pontifex 22 December 2017
  • “If we really want to celebrate Christmas, let’s contemplate this image: the fragile simplicity of a new-born baby. That’s where God is.” @Pontifex 23 December 2017
  • “Contemplating the Baby Jesus, with His humble and infinite love, let us say to Him, very simply: “Thank you for doing all this for me!”” @Pontifex 24 December 2017
  • “Stop and look at the nativity scene: let us enter the true spirit of Christmas with the shepherds, bringing Baby Jesus all that we are.” @Pontifex 25 December 2017
  • “Today we want to remember all those who suffer persecution. We want to be close to them with our affection and our prayers.” @Pontifex 26 December 2017
  • “God is in love with us. He draws us to Him with tenderness by being born poor and fragile among us, like one of us.” @Pontifex 27 December 2017

Papal Instagram

The Mystery of the Beloved Disciple

beloved discipleSomething very strange happens in John’s Gospel.

Unlike any of the other Gospels, it indicates—directly—who its author is.

And yet it also doesn’t tell us who he is.

At the very end of the Gospel, we are told that it was written by a figure who has become known as “the beloved disciple.”

But he never names himself. That’s something everyone agrees on: The text of the Gospel never directly tells us the name of this disciple.

The author chose to remain anonymous or “not named” (Greek, a(n)- “not” + onoma “name”).

That creates a mystery around him—and it’s a mystery that he chose to create, for whatever reason he had.

Most people, for most of Church history, have thought it was the Apostle John, the son of Zebedee and brother of James.

There is, however, a vigorous debate about this in some quarters.

Regardless of who you think the beloved disciple was, it’s worth looking at how he handles the issue of his identity and what light this may shed on the question.

So let’s look at the appearances of the beloved disciple in the Gospel . . .

 

Before We Begin

We should say a word about how we should look at these passages.

To fully appreciate their significance, to avoid coloring them with other ideas we may have, we should put ourselves in the position of an early reader who didn’t know anything else about this Gospel.

Treat it like a document that just fell into your hands—without “The Gospel of John” written at the front, the way it appears in modern Bibles.

Ancient documents didn’t have titles at the front like that. They just started with the text.

Also, forget that you know that the beloved disciple will eventually be revealed as the author.

Imagine mentally reading the document from the beginning—without knowing anything else—and watch the clues that accumulate.

Let’s get started . . .

 

A Man “Whose Name Was John”

In the first chapter of the Gospel, we learn about John the Baptist, only he isn’t called “the Baptist.” He’s just called “John”:

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John (John 1:6).

We are expected to already know about this figure. For example, we are expected to know that he was eventually sent to prison—a fact that the author drops on us without any further explanation, at one point simply saying, “John had not yet been put in prison” (John 3:24).

From one perspective, this is not surprising since the fourth Gospel appears to have been written as a way of supplementing the information found in other Gospels, such as Mark’s (see here).

The Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) tell the story of John the Baptist’s imprisonment, so the fourth Gospel can assume that we know about it.

But early Christian tradition contained multiple figures named “John,” which was one of the most common Palestinian Jewish male names in the first century. Individuals who bore it included John the Baptist, John son of Zebedee, and John Mark, the author of the second Gospel.

It’s thus surprising that the fourth Gospel simply refers to the Baptist as “John,” without adding “the Baptist” the way the Synoptics do.

In fact, this John is the only person called “John” in the entire fourth Gospel.

This is potentially significant, and it suggests that the author—for some reason—wanted to keep the name “John” focused exclusively on the Baptist.

 

  1. Meeting Jesus

A bit later in the first chapter of the Gospel, we learn that John had disciples:

The next day again John was standing with two of his disciples; and he looked at Jesus as he walked, and said, “Behold, the Lamb of God!”

The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus (John 1:35-37).

We thus encounter two anonymous disciples who begin following Jesus and presumably become Jesus’ disciples.

We also learn one of their names. One is “Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother” (John 1:40). But the other disciple remains unnamed.

Why is that?

If Andrew isn’t the only one who has a future with Jesus, why isn’t the other one named? This is a mystery later passages may shed light on.

 

  1. At the Last Supper

Another very strange thing happens in the final third of the fourth Gospel.

We’ve been reading about Jesus and what he did and said for more than two thirds of the book in our hands. After Jesus announces, at the Last Supper, that one of his disciples will betray him, we suddenly read:

One of his disciples, whom Jesus loved, was lying close to the breast of Jesus; so Simon Peter beckoned to him and said, “Tell us who it is of whom he speaks” (John 13:23-24).

Wait. What? A disciple “whom Jesus loved”? Who is that?

If Jesus loved him in a special way, that suggests he’s important. But if he’s important, why hasn’t he been mentioned before in this Gospel?

Or has he?

In this passage, we see Jesus interacting with an anonymous disciple—just like he did back in chapter 1. Could the two anonymous disciples be one and the same?

We’ll have to see . . .

 

  1. In the High Priest’s Courtyard

We encounter another anonymous disciple after Jesus has been arrested:

Simon Peter followed Jesus, and so did another disciple. As this disciple was known to the high priest, he entered the court of the high priest along with Jesus, while Peter stood outside at the door.

So the other disciple, who was known to the high priest, went out and spoke to the maid who kept the door, and brought Peter in (John 18:15-16).

It is very strange that “the other disciple” remains unnamed. He was obviously important—for he was personally known to the high priest, and it was this fact that allowed Peter to gain access to the high priest’s courtyard.

Yet he remains anonymous and is simply described as “another disciple” (v. 15) and as “the other disciple” (v. 16).

In Greek, these phrases are very close. “Another disciple” is allos mathētēs, but once he has been introduced, the author adds the definite article (“the”/ho) in front of the phrase: ho allos mathētēs.

Does anything else in the Gospel shed light on who he is?

Keep reading.

 

  1. At the Foot of the Cross

The next time the beloved disciple appears is at the foot of the Cross:

When Jesus saw his mother, and the disciple whom he loved standing near, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son!”

Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home (John 19:26-27).

Here we have another indication of the importance of the beloved disciple: Jesus entrusts the care of his mother to him.

And the disciple lives up to the commission Jesus gives him, beginning to care for Mary “from that hour.”

 

  1. At the Tomb

The beloved disciple is also mentioned when Mary Magdalene runs to tell the disciples that Jesus’ tomb is empty:

So she ran, and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.”

Peter then came out with the other disciple, and they went toward the tomb.

They both ran, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first; and stooping to look in, he saw the linen cloths lying there, but he did not go in.

Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb; he saw the linen cloths lying, and the napkin, which had been on his head, not lying with the linen cloths but rolled up in a place by itself.

Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not know the scripture, that he must rise from the dead (John 20:2-9).

Notice how the beloved disciple is first introduced: He is initially described (v. 2a) as “the other disciple,” and the Greek phrase is ho allos mathētēs (though here put in the accusative case).

We’ve heard that phrase before. It was how the disciple who got Peter into the high priest’s courtyard was described back in John 18:16.

The fact John uses this phrase first suggests that he expects us to recognize this person as “the other disciple” who was with Peter at the high priest’s house.

This impression is reinforced because John keeps referring to this figure as “the other disciple” (vv. 3, 4, and 8).

But now John further identifies him (v. 2b) as “the one whom Jesus loved”—the beloved disciple from the last supper and the foot of the cross.

The passage also reveals that the beloved disciple and Peter were together, and it appears that the beloved disciple is fleeter of foot than Peter (which some have suggested may mean he is younger, though Peter was not old at this time).

The beloved disciple also defers to Peter, allowing him to enter the tomb first, and he is quick to believe.

 

  1. At the Sea of Galilee

The beloved disciple also had a personal encounter with the risen Jesus when a group of disciples decide to go fishing. Notice who is present:

Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples were together (John 21:2).

There were seven people present:

1) Simon Peter
2) Thomas
3) Nathanael
4-5) The sons of Zebedee
6-7) Two unnamed disciples

Seven is a significant number in the Bible in general and in the Johannine literature in particular.

Also, we are here at the very end of the Gospel, and we are encountering two anonymous disciples—just like we did at the very beginning of the Gospel.

Could they be the same two? Andrew and one other?

The disciples spend all night fishing, and in the morning Jesus appears on the shore, but in the distance they don’t recognize him.

Jesus then asks them if they have caught anything. When they say they haven’t, he tells them to cast the net on the right side of the boat, and they miraculously get a huge catch.

That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!”

When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on his clothes, for he was stripped for work, and sprang into the sea (John 21:7).

Afterwards, they all get to shore and have breakfast with Jesus, who has Peter confess his love for him three times as a way of undoing the threefold denial Peter made in the high priest’s courtyard.

Then Jesus tells Peter about the way he will die, and we read:

Peter turned and saw following them the disciple whom Jesus loved, who had lain close to his breast at the supper and had said, “Lord, who is it that is going to betray you?”

When Peter saw him, he said to Jesus, “Lord, what about this man?”

Jesus said to him, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? Follow me!”

The saying spread abroad among the brethren that this disciple was not to die; yet Jesus did not say to him that he was not to die, but, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you?” (John 21:20-23).

Here we learn that the beloved disciple wasn’t just important when the events of the Gospel were transpiring. He continued to be well-known in the Christian community afterward, as there was a rumor he wouldn’t die.

The fact he takes the time to debunk this rumor—to assure the audience that Jesus didn’t say he wouldn’t die—indicates that the rumor still had currency.

Presumably the audience, or at least a notable number of its members, had heard the rumor and knew who the mysterious disciple was.

This makes the Gospel’s refusal to name the disciple all the more mysterious.

 

  1. The Author Revealed

There is one more thing that the Gospel tells us about the beloved disciple: He’s it’s author.

Immediately after learning about the rumor concerning the beloved disciple, we read:

This is the disciple who is bearing witness to these things, and who has written these things; and we know that his testimony is true.

But there are also many other things which Jesus did; were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written (John 21:24-25).

For someone reading this Gospel for the first time, not knowing anything else about it, this would be mind-blowing!

The enigmatic disciple about whom mystery has been building for chapter after chapter suddenly turns out to be the author! Wow!

The author even steps out of the shadows, dropping his previous habit of referring to himself in the third person (“the disciple whom Jesus loved,” “the other disciple”) and suddenly using the first person: “I suppose the world itself could not contain the books.”

This is carefully crafted literary artistry, and that may help us put a few additional pieces in place.

 

Putting It All Together

For a reason the Gospel does not tell us, the author has chosen to keep himself unnamed throughout his work.

He’s also used a careful, “slow build” literary strategy to gradually fill in our picture of who he is. It’s a strategy that fosters a sense of growing mystery about him:

  • We first have a definite indication that something is up in chapter 13—two thirds of the way through the Gospel—when we suddenly hear about a mysterious disciple “whom Jesus loved.”
  • Then the author reintroduces himself in chapter 18 under the title “the other disciple,” where we learn he was personally known to the high priest and played a key role in getting Peter admitted to the courtyard.
  • In chapter 19 we learn that the beloved disciple was at the foot of the cross and that Jesus entrusted the care of his own mother to him.
  • In chapter 20 we learn that he was present at the empty tomb, and he was apparently the first disciple to believe in the Resurrection. We also learn that “the disciple whom Jesus loved” and “the other disciple” are one in the same.
  • In chapter 21, we learn that there was a rumor about him that he would never die.
  • Finally, we learn that he is the author of the Gospel itself.

This carefully constructed, “slow burn” pattern invites us to consider whether we may have missed anything, whether there are other pieces of the puzzle that also need to be fit in.

Earlier we noted that, given the sudden appearance of a disciple “whom Jesus loved” in chapter 13, we would have expected an account of how such a disciple first met Jesus—and that impression is strengthened even further once we know he is the actual author of the Gospel.

How could a disciple who felt so close to Jesus, who cared for his own mother, not tell us how he met Jesus? He told us about how other people (Andrew, Peter, Nathanael, Nicodemus, etc.) met Jesus.

But maybe the deliberately unnamed author did tell us: There are those two unnamed disciples in chapter 1, and—surprise, surprise—there are two unnamed disciples in chapter 21.

This suggests that the unnamed author was one of the two unnamed disciples in both cases. He was Andrew’s companion in chapter 1, and that was the story of how he first met Jesus.

Quite possibly, Andrew was the unnamed disciple in chapter 21. It would be very natural for Peter and the sons of Zebedee to be accompanied by Andrew, the fourth member of their fishing partnership. The beloved disciple simply kept Andrew unnamed on this occasion to mirror chapter 1.

We would then have seven appearances of the beloved disciple in the Gospel:

  1. His first meeting with Jesus (John 1:35-37)
  2. His appearance at the Last Supper (John 13:23-24).
  3. His appearance at the high priest’s house (John 18:15-16)
  4. His appearance at the foot of the Cross (John 19:26-27)
  5. His appearance at the empty tomb (John 20:2-9)
  6. His appearance at the Sea of Galilee (John 21:2-23)
  7. His self-revelation as the author (John 21:24-25)

This arrangement is not certain, because there are other ways one could divide the material (some of which also would add up to seven).

However, the prominence of the number seven (including the seven disciples mentioned at the Sea of Galilee) and the author’s clear literary artistry, indicate that a deliberate seven-fold pattern of appearances may be indicated.

It’s also worth noting that all but the last of these appearances occurs in Jerusalem or the vicinity of Jerusalem. (John 1:28, as well as Matt. 3:1 and Mark 1:5, place the location of John’s baptizing ministry near Jerusalem.)

This pattern of events around Jerusalem is consistent with someone who would be personally known to the high priest. Indeed, it would suggest not just a Jerusalemite but a member of the Jerusalem aristocracy and possibly a priest himself.

It is less consistent with the profile of a Galilean fisherman like John son of Zebedee.

Also pointing in this direction is the suggestion that the author is one of the two unnamed disciples at the Sea of Galilee. If that is the case then he is not one of the sons of Zebedee, who were also present.

This does not mean the beloved disciple can’t be John son of Zebedee, but it does mean there are indicators pointing in a different direction.

This only continues the mystery surrounding the author—a mystery produced by the fact that he never names himself, not even in the last verses of his Gospel when he reveals himself as author.

For more on the debate about who wrote John’s Gospel, see here.

The Weekly Francis – 20 December 2017

popr-francis-teachingThis version of The Weekly Francis covers material released in the last week from 2 December 2017 to 20 December 2017.

Speeches

Papal Tweets

  • “I encourage all of you to live the joy of your mission by witnessing to the Gospel wherever you are called to live and work.” @Pontifex 14 December 2017
  • “Even if there were no one else left to remember us, Jesus would always be there at our side.” @Pontifex 15 December 2017
  • “We become holy when we work for others. When we do so, we continue the creative action of God in history.” @Pontifex 16 December 2017
  • “May the Lord grant us the wisdom to seek that which is worthwhile and to love, not with our words but with our actions.” @Pontifex 17 December 2017
  • “Every stranger that knocks at our door is an opportunity to meet Jesus Christ.” @Pontifex 18 December 2017
  • “Go out to meet Jesus, spend time with Him in prayer, and entrust your whole life to His merciful love.” @Pontifex 19 December 2017
  • “Heaven doesn’t value what you have, but what you give.” @Pontifex 20 December 2017

Papal Instagram

Who Wrote John’s Gospel?

john the evangelistIt sounds like a trick question. You’re tempted to say, “Uhh . . . that would be John?”

Yes, but which John?

A handful of names were extremely popular in first century Israel. These included Simon, Judas, James, and, John. The frequency with which they occurred sometimes makes it hard to sort out who is who.

Worse, first century Jews didn’t have last names, and sometimes a person went by multiple names (Simon, Simeon, Cephas, Peter, Simon Peter, Simon son of John, Simon son of Jonah—all the same guy).

So who wrote John’s Gospel?

There have been a number of proposals, and, as we will see, Pope Benedict makes an interesting one.

 

The Anonymous Author

John’s Gospel indicates it was written by an eyewitness to the ministry of Christ: “This is the disciple who is bearing witness to these things, and who has written these things” (John 21:24).

It is ironic that John’s Gospel—of all the four—is the only one that so explicitly points to its author, yet it does not name him.

Why?

The author was known to the first readers, so in a sense it wasn’t necessary to say his name, but there may have been other reasons. One possibility is that the author keeps himself anonymous out of humility, identifying himself simply as “the disciple whom Jesus loved.”

Another is that he is making himself a symbol—a stand-in for all of his readers, all of whom Jesus loves.

Since he was writing in dangerous times, he might want to be anonymous so that he didn’t get in trouble with the authorities, and the strategy may not have worked. If he is also the author of Revelation, as commonly supposed, he ended up being exiled to the island of Patmos. It’s interesting to note that Revelation, of all the books attributed to John, is the only one that explicitly names its author (Rev. 1:4), and it was written after he had been exiled.

 

The Case for John the Apostle

The most common view, historically and today, is that the Gospel was written by John the Apostle. What evidence is there for this?

The author describes himself as “the disciple whom Jesus loved, who had lain close to his breast at the [Last] Supper” (21:20).

This seems to put the author among Jesus’ core group of disciples, and it is an easy step from there to conclude that he was one of the twelve apostles. But which one?

Here we can use the process of elimination. John’s Gospel names several figures and thus distinguishes them from “the disciple whom Jesus loved.” Here is a list, along with their first mention in the Gospel:

  1. Andrew (1:40)
  2. Simon Peter (1:40)
  3. Philip (1:43)
  4. Nathaniel (i.e., Bartholomew) (1:45)
  5. Judas Iscariot (6:71)
  6. Thomas (11:16)
  7. Judas (not Iscariot) (14:22)

The fact seven of the Twelve are named may be intentional. Seven is a significant number that crops up in unexpected ways in John’s Gospel (and in Revelation).

If none of the above are the beloved disciple, that leaves the following members of the Twelve: James, John, Matthew, James the Less, and Simon the Zealot.

If the beloved disciple’s relationship is meant to be an especially close one (as opposed to a symbol of the love Jesus has for all his followers) that might mean he was one of the inner circle of apostles, which we know from the other Gospels to have been Peter, Andrew, James, and John.

Peter and Andrew have already been eliminated, and James the son of Zebedee was the first apostle to be killed (Acts 12:2), so there would scarcely be an enduring rumor that he would live until the Second Coming, as there was for the beloved disciple (John 21:22-23).

With the other three core disciples eliminated, that would point to John the son of Zebedee.

This is a compelling case, and it is no surprise that the dominant view historically has been that John the Apostle was the author of this Gospel.

 

Testing the Assumptions

The case above depends on certain assumptions—that the author was one of the Twelve and that he was among the core group within the Twelve. Both assumptions are reasonable, but are they certain?

There were other important followers of Jesus.

Two were Joseph Barsabbas and Matthias, the two proposed as Judas Iscariot’s replacement precisely because they had followed Jesus from his baptism to his Ascension (Acts 1:21-26). Yet they are not mentioned in the Gospels at all.

There is also Joseph of Arimathea, who donated his own tomb for Jesus to be buried in (Matt. 27:60).

Nicodemus also went with Joseph to ask Pilate for the body of Jesus, and he later helped with the burial (John 19:39).

John’s Gospel prominently features a disciple who was not a member of the Twelve but who was close enough to Jesus that others commented on how much Jesus loved him: Lazarus (11:36). As a result, some have even proposed Lazarus as the author of the fourth Gospel.

This is unlikely, one reason being the anonymity that the beloved disciple uses for himself. It is improbable that he would carefully craft the anonymous, beloved disciple identity for himself and then casually name himself in other passages.

The same reasoning makes it unlikely the beloved disciple is any of the other non-Twelve disciples mentioned in John (e.g., Joseph of Arimathea or Nicodemus).

But the point remains that there were important disciples who were not members of the Twelve. Given that, is there any reason to think that the beloved disciple might not be John son of Zebedee?

 

Not a Fisherman from Galilee?

Several reasons have been suggested. First, the beloved disciple does not appear clearly until chapter 13 of the gospel, when he is reclining by Jesus at the Last Supper (13:23). But James son of Zebedee had been a disciple as early as Peter and Andrew (Matt. 4:18-22, cf. John 1:40-42).

Second, the Gospel of John focuses largely on Jesus ministry around Jerusalem rather than in Galilee. This is what one would expect of a native of Jerusalem but not a native of Galilee like John son of Zebedee.

Third, the beloved disciple’s residence in Jerusalem may be shown by the fact that he was personally known by the high priest. This enabled him to enter the high priest’s court with Jesus. Peter, however was stopped, and the disciple had to intervene to get Peter access to the courtyard (18:15-16). The same high priest (Caiaphas) does not appear to recognize John son of Zebedee when he and Peter are brought before him in Acts 4.

Fourth, the beloved disciple may have been a priest himself, as illustrated by the fact that he knew the high priest. The second century Christian writer Polycrates agreed: “John, who was both a witness and a teacher, who reclined upon the bosom of the Lord, and being a priest wore the sacerdotal plate . . . also sleeps at Ephesus” (quoted in Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 3:31:2). But John the son of Zebedee was a fisherman rather than a priest.

Fifth, John son of Zebedee and Peter are specifically said to be “uneducated, common men” by Luke (Acts 4:13). But priests were educated, and the Gospel of John displays significant literary qualities that would not be expected from an uneducated, common man.

Sixth, at the end of the Gospel, there is a fishing expedition that includes “Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples” (21:2). These seven disciples (note the number) include the beloved disciple. But since he has kept himself studiedly anonymous, we might expect him to be one of the two unnamed disciples mentioned at the end, not one of the sons of Zebedee.

As we will see, none of these objections is insuperable. There are ways John son of Zebedee could be the beloved disciple. But they have led some scholars to wonder if the beloved disciple might be someone else.

 

The Name John

The fact the fourth Gospel is known as John’s is important.

Though none of the Gospels explicitly name their authors, their original audiences knew who had written them, and these traditions circulated in the early Church. It is hard to imagine personal names becoming attached to the Gospels if the names were totally inaccurate.

As a result, we should look for someone named John as the author of the Gospel.

John was a common name in first century Palestine. About one in twenty men bore it, so among the seventy disciples Jesus sent out on a preaching mission (Luke. 10:1) or among the 120 core disciples present at the election of Judas’s replacement (Acts 1:15), there should have been several Johns.

 

John Mark?

An interesting case is John Mark. We know that he lived at Jerusalem, where his mother had a house (Acts 12:12). Because it is described as his mother’s house rather than his father’s house, his father was likely dead.

This could make John Mark the eldest male in the household, which could explain why the beloved disciple was seated next to Jesus as the Last Supper. Even as a non-member of the Twelve, if he was the official host representing the family that owned the house, he might well be seated next to the guest of honor.

In Jesus of Nazareth, Pope Benedict notes that, “According to the Jewish custom, the host or, in his absence, as would have been the case here, his firstborn son sat to the right of the guest, his head leaning on the latter’s chest” (v. 1, p. 225).

That could apply to the beloved disciple if he were someone other than John Mark, though. The beloved disciple appears in a clear way for the first time at the Last Supper, and if he were also the owner of the house where it took place, or the eldest male of the family present, he could end up seated next to Jesus even though he was not a member of the Twelve.

The main problem with supposing him to be John Mark is that John Mark is usually identified with Mark the Evangelist, the author of the second Gospel, not the fourth. The tradition in the Church Fathers on this point is very strong.

It also is commonly thought that John Mark appears as one of the unnamed characters in his own Gospel, such as the man who runs away without his clothing on the night Jesus was arrested (Mark 14:51-52).

His case does demonstrate, though, that there were other early disciples, not members of the Twelve, not mentioned by name in the Gospels, who were nevertheless in a position to write Gospels—and even ones named John!

Some have suggested that the beloved disciple was a priest who lived at Jerusalem but who is otherwise unknown to us. Hypothetically, this is possible, but it seems unlikely. Someone important enough to write a Gospel should have left some trace in history. So does history record any other Johns who could have written the fourth Gospel?

 

The Case for John the Presbyter

In the first half of the second century an author named Papias wrote a work on the sayings of Jesus. It is now lost, but quotations survive in works by other early authors, such as the second century bishop Irenaeus and the fourth century Church historian, Eusebius.

Papias lived early enough that he was in contact with people who had actually known Jesus. Although many had passed away by his time, some were still alive, and he names two: Aristion and a figure known as John the Presbyter (also called John the Elder and John the Priest, depending on how the underlying Greek word is translated). Note the contrast between what Aristion and John the Presbyter “say” and what the other disciples, including John the Apostle, “said” (see below).

Both Johns were associated with the city of Ephesus, and Eusebius cites Papias’s statement as evidence for the claim of those “who say that there were two persons in Asia that bore the same name, and that there were two tombs in Ephesus, each of which, even to the present day, is called John’s” (op. cit. 3:39:6).

He went to say that “it is probable that it was the second [i.e., the Presbyter], if one is not willing to admit that it was the first, that saw the Revelation” (ibid.).

St. Jerome records a common view that 2 John and 3 John were written by John the Presbyter, saying that these two letters “are said to be the work of John the Presbyter, to the memory of whom another sepulcher is shown at Ephesus to the present day, though some think that there are two memorials of this same John the Evangelist” (Illustrious Men 9). Note that the opening verse of both letters lists the sender simply as “the Presbyter.”

Scholars who favor the idea that John the Presbyter wrote the fourth Gospel have produced a number of arguments for their position.

A noteworthy one is that John the Presbyter evidently lived to a very old age. Otherwise, he would not have acquired the nickname “the Presbyter,” which in Greek means “the Elder.” If he is addressing his letters simply as “the Elder,” that would indicate an advanced age.

That harmonizes well with the rumor that the beloved disciple would live until the Second Coming (21:15-23).

This, as well as literary similarities between the Gospel and the epistles of John, suggest a common author.

 

Papias on John the Presbyter

Papias writes:

“If, then, any one came who had been a follower of the elders, I questioned him in regard to the words of the elders—what Andrew or what Peter said, or what was said by Philip, or by Thomas, or by James, or by John, or by Matthew, or by any other of the disciples of the Lord, and what things Aristion and the presbyter John, the disciples of the Lord, say” (Papias of Hierapolis, quoted in Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History, 3:39:4).

 

John the Presbyter Speaks?

In the opening verses of 2 and 3 John, we read:

The Presbyter to the chosen Lady and to her children, whom I love in truth—and not only I but also all who know the truth [2 John 1].

The Presbyter to the beloved Gaius, whom I love in truth [3 John 1].

 

Pope Benedict’s Solution

In Jesus of Nazareth, Pope Benedict takes up the question of who wrote John’s Gospel and proposes a solution that other scholars have advocated.

He notes that “the Gospel never directly identifies [the beloved disciple] by name. In connection with the calling of Peter, as well as of other disciples, it points toward John, the son of Zebedee, but it never explicitly identifies the two figures. The intention is evidently to leave the matter shrouded in mystery” (v. 1, p. 223).

Pope Benedict acknowledges the difficulty some have had with seeing John son of Zebedee as the author of the Gospel: “Can he, the Galilean fisherman, have been as closely connected with the priestly aristocracy of Jerusalem, its language, and its mentality as the Evangelist evidently is? Can he have been related to the family of the high priest, as the text hints (cf. John 18:15)?” (p. 224).

He concludes that “that such an identification is actually quite possible. The priests discharged their ministry on a rotating basis twice a year. The ministry itself lasted a week each time. After the completion of the ministry, the priest returned to his home, and it was not at all unusual for him also to exercise a profession to earn his livelihood. Furthermore, the Gospel makes clear that Zebedee was no simple fisherman, but employed several day laborers, which also explains why it was possible for his sons to leave him” (ibid.).

While it was possible for a Galilean fisherman to also be a priest at Jerusalem, Pope Benedict thinks John the Presbyter had a role as well.

In his view, John’s Gospel was based on the memories of the Apostle but put into its final literary form by the Presbyter, who served as “the literary executor of the favorite disciple” after his death (v. 1, p. 227).

He also sees John the Presbyter as the author of 2 and 3 John (see below).

These views are not magisterial teaching. As Pope Benedict famously said in the preface to Jesus of Nazareth, “this book is in no way an exercise of the magisterium, but is solely an expression of my personal search ‘for the face of the Lord’ (cf. Ps. 27:8). Everyone is free, then, to contradict me.”

The seriousness with which Pope Benedict takes the traditions connecting John son of Zebedee and John the Presbyter with the fourth Gospel, though, should not be lightly dismissed.

 

Pope Benedict on John the Presbyter

In Jesus of Nazareth, volume 1, Pope Benedict writes:

In Ephesus there was something like a Johannine school, which traced its origins to Jesus’ favorite disciple himself, but in which a certain “Presbyter John” presided as the ultimate authority.

This “presbyter” John appears as the sender and author of the Second and Third Letters of John (in each case in the first verse of the first chapter) simply under the title “the presbyter” (without reference to the name John).

He is evidently not the same as the Apostle, which means that here in the canonical text we encounter expressly the mysterious figure of the presbyter. He must have been closely connected with the apostle; perhaps he had even been acquainted with Jesus himself.

After the death of the apostle, he was identified wholly as the bearer of the latter’s heritage, and in the collective memory, the two figures were increasingly fused.

At any rate, there seem to be grounds for ascribing to “Presbyter John” an essential role in the definitive shaping of the Gospel, though he must always have regarded himself as the trustee of the tradition he had received from the son of Zebedee [Benedict XVI, Jesus of Nazareth, v. 1, p. 226].

 

Conclusion

Our purpose here is not to settle the question of which John wrote the fourth Gospel, but it is to illustrate the lively debate that has emerged on the question and to indicate some of the factors that need to be taken into consideration.

We’ll have more to say on the subject in the future.

An Important and Little-Known Fact About the Temple of Jerusalem (Gentiles and the Jewish Temple)

Akin-TEMPLEMany people have the idea that, in biblical times, the Jerusalem temple was exclusively for Jewish use.

This is a natural assumption, given the hostilities that led to the Jewish War of the A.D. 60s, as well as the attitude of some Jewish Christians who thought salvation was impossible for Gentiles.

But the historical evidence shows otherwise.

This is a subject I’ve written about before, but here are some interesting examples that further illustrate the actual situation . . .

 

The Emperor Augustus

The first century Jewish sage Philo of Alexandria (c. 25 B.C. – c. A.D. 50) was caught up in a controversy involving the Roman emperor Caligula (aka Gaius, reigned A.D. 36-41).

This incident occurred after Caligula fell ill in early in his reign and recovered, but with a drastic personality change.

He became very cruel, started demanding to be worshipped as a god, and announced that a statue of himself (depicted as Zeus) would be placed in the Jerusalem temple for Jews to worship.

Philo wrote an account of this controversy in his work On the Embassy to Gaius.

During the course of the work, he compared Caligula’s treatment of Jews to that of previous Roman individuals, including their treatment of the temple.

He thus reported on how the emperor Augustus (reigned 27 B.C-A.D. 14) and his family supported the Jerusalem temple:

So religiously did [Augustus] respect our interests that, supported by wellnigh his whole household, he adorned our temple through the costliness of his dedications, and ordered that for all time continuous sacrifices of whole burnt offerings should be carried out every day at his own expense as a tribute to the most high God.

And these sacrifices are maintained to the present day and will be maintained for ever to tell the story of a character truly imperial (On the Embassy to Gaius 23[157]).

Here Philo reports that Augustus:

  • Adorned the temple with costly decorations
  • He was supported in this by “wellnigh his whole household” (i.e., family)—meaning others did the same (see below)
  • He arranged that sacrifices of “whole burnt offerings” would be offered to the Jewish God every day by the Jewish priests
  • That he paid for this out of his own pocket
  • That these sacrifices were still being offered, with no planned ending date for them

 

Temple Access for Gentiles

Philo later refers to the fact that portions of the Jerusalem Temple complex were open for Gentiles worshippers:

Still more abounding and peculiar is the zeal of [all the Jewish people] for the temple, and the strongest proof of this is that death without appeal is the sentence against those of other races who penetrate into its inner confines.

For the outer are open to everyone wherever they come from (31[212]).

This refers to the fact that the temple was built as a series of zones that different classes of people could access:

  • The outermost area (the Court of the Gentiles) was open to everyone
  • The next area (the Court of Women) was open to Jewish men and women
  • The next area (the Court of Israel) was open to Jewish men
  • The next area (the Court of Priests) was open to Jewish priests
  • The final area (the Holy of Holies) was open to the Jewish high priest once a year

These zones were places where the designated people went to worship—so the Court of the Gentiles was where Gentiles could go to worship God.

This is why Isaiah refers to the temple as “a house of prayer for all nations” (Is. 56:7).

And it is apparently the area from which Jesus drove out the money changers: They were taking up space that was reserved for Gentile worshippers (see Mark 11:17).

 

Sacrifices on Behalf of Caligula

Sacrifices were offered on behalf of Gentiles at the temple.

In fact, it was normal to offer sacrifices on behalf of Gentile rulers, including Roman emperors.

This had already been done on behalf of Augustus and Tiberius, and Philo refers to the fact that, as soon as Caligula’s reign began, the Jewish priests offered sacrifices to God on his behalf:

Was our temple the first to accept sacrifices in behalf of Gaius’s reign only that it should be the first or even the only one to be robbed of its ancestral tradition of worship? (32[232]).

These sacrifices were to ask God to bless the new ruler and to ask him to help the ruler govern wisely and justly. As St. Paul says:

For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God.

Therefore he who resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment (Rom. 13:1-2; see 1 Pet. 3:13-14).

Philo refers to this matter again later, when he recounts how—in a meeting with Caligula—an anti-Jewish man named Isidorus accused the Jewish people of refusing to offer sacrifices on Caligula’s behalf.

Philo reports that they defended themselves by saying:

We cried out with one accord, “Lord Gaius, we are slandered; we did sacrifice and sacrifice hecatombs [large sacrifices of multiple bulls] too, and we did not just pour the blood upon the altar and then take the flesh home to feast and regale ourselves with it as some do, but we gave the victims to the sacred fire to be entirely consumed, and we have done this not once but thrice already, the first time at your accession to the sovereignty, the second when you escaped the severe sickness which all the habitable world suffered with you, the third as a prayer of hope for victory in Germany” (45[356]).

He thus indicates that large sacrifices of bulls were made on Caligula’s behalf three times:

  1. When he began to reign
  2. When he had his severe illness (that drove him crazy)
  3. When he was in a conflict with the German tribes

 

Marcus Agrippa and the Temple

Philo also quotes from a lengthy letter that King Herod Agrippa I sent to Caligula during the crisis regarding his statue.

(This Herod is the one who put St. James son of Zebedee to death in Acts 12. He was also the grandson of Herod the Great and a friend of the emperors Caligula and Claudius. He’s the Herod who appears in the BBC drama I, Claudius.)

In the letter, Herod refers to how Caligula’s own grandfather—Marcus Agrippa—honored the temple when he was in Jerusalem. He reports that he was very impressed by the temple and its priesthood (37[294-296]) and that he made gifts to the temple:

After decking the temple with all the dedicatory gifts which the law made permissible and benefiting the inhabitants by granting every favor which he could without causing mischief and paying many compliments to Herod and receiving a host of the same from him, he was escorted to the harbors not by one city only but by the whole population of the country amid showers of posies which expressed their admiration of his piety (37[297]).

 

More on Augustus’s Gifts to the Temple

In his letter, Herod Agrippa also gives more detail on the gifts that Augustus supplied to the temple:

Another example no less cogent than this shows very clearly the will of Augustus.

He gave orders for a continuation of whole burnt offerings every day to the Most High God to be charged to his own purse.

These are carried out to this day. Two lambs and a bull are the victims with which he added luster to the altar, knowing well that there is no image there openly or secretly set up.

Indeed this great ruler, this philosopher second to none, reasoned in his mind that within the precincts of earth there must needs be a special place assigned as sacred to the invisible God which would contain no visible image, a place to give us participation in good hopes and enjoyment of perfect blessings (40[317-318]).

Livia’s Gifts

Finally, Herod Agrippa notes that Augustus’s wife—Julia Augusta (commonly referred to as Livia; she’s also the Livia in I, Claudius)—made costly gifts to the temple:

Under such an instructor in piety your great-grandmother Julia Augusta adorned the temple with golden vials and libation bowls and a multitude of other sumptuous offerings (40[319]).

These golden vials and libation bowls were liturgical furnishings that would have been used in the temple ceremonies.

 

Conclusion

There certainly was an undercurrent of hostilities on the part of many Jews regarding their Roman overlords, but the idea that the Jerusalem temple was exclusively for Jewish use is not true.

From the beginning, it had been meant as a house of prayer for all nations, with its outermost (and largest) court reserved for Gentile worshippers.

Many of the Gentile worshippers were polytheists, but they did not deny the existence of the Jewish God or refuse to give him worship.

In fact, they made costly gifts to the temple—both in terms of decorations, liturgical furnishings, and underwriting of the costs of the daily sacrifices.

The Jewish priests not only accepted these offerings—recognizing them as permitted by the Jewish Law—they also made special offerings on behalf of the rulers, asking God to bless them with things like health and victory.

The situation may have been tense, and there certainly was Jewish resentment of the Romans, but overall the situation was more cordial than we commonly suppose.

Ultimately, those who were hostile to the Romans got the upper hand and stopped these sacrifices—and that was one of the incidents that led to the Jewish War and the destruction of the temple.

 

The Weekly Francis – 13 December 2017

pope-francis-st-patrick

This version of The Weekly Francis covers material released in the last week from 26 November 2017 to 13 December 2017.

Angelus

General Audiences

Messages

Speeches

Papal Tweets

  • “May the Virgin Mary always be our refuge, our consolation, and the way that leads to Christ.” @Pontifex 8 December 2017
  • “We must fight corruption with determination. It is an evil based on the worship of money and it offends human dignity.” @Pontifex 9 December 2017
  • “Political activity must truly be conducted at the service of the human person, with respect for creation and for the common good.” @Pontifex 10 December 2017
  • “We ask for the grace to make our faith more and more operative through acts of charity.” @Pontifex 11 December 2017
  • “Thank you for following @Pontifex which turns five years old today. May social media always be spaces that are rich in humanity!” @Pontifex 12 December 2017
  • “Christians are called to work concretely in the realities of this world, illuminating them with the light that comes from God.” @Pontifex 13 December 2017

Papal Instagram

No, Pope Francis Is Not Changing the Lord’s Prayer

Pope_Francis_3_on_papal_flight_from_Africa_to_Italy_Nov_30_2015_Credit_Martha_Calderon_CNA_11_30_15Newspapers and websites erupted over the weekend with headlines like:

Shame on all of them.

The pope didn’t call for changes.

This is a classic case of the pope saying something and the media going hog-wild and completely distorting it.

 

How did all this start?

Italian television aired an hour-long interview with Pope Francis in which he was asked about a new version of the Lord’s Prayer in France.

You can watch the interview (in Italian) here.

 

What did the French church do?

They adopted a new translation of the Lord’s Prayer for use in the liturgy. It went into effect on the first Sunday of Advent (which is why Pope Francis was being asked about it).

Basically, they changed the line that in English reads “and lead us not into temptation” to one that means “do not let us fall into temptation.”

 

What did Pope Francis say about this?

He reportedly said:

The French have changed the text and their translation says “don’t let me fall into temptation,” . . . It’s me who falls. It’s not Him who pushes me into temptation, as if I fell. A father doesn’t do that. A father helps you to get up right away. The one who leads into temptation is Satan.

Various accounts also report him saying that the “lead us not into temptation” rendering is not a good translation because it is misleading to modern ears.

 

So he isn’t about to impose a new translation on everybody?

No. Commenting that a translation can be misleading is not the same thing as mandating a new one. People have grown up with the Lord’s Prayer, and changing it is a big deal.

The French bishops thought it was worth making a change, but it’s up to local episcopal conferences what they want to do in this regard.

The New York Times reports, though, that “the pope suggested that Italian Catholics might want to follow suit.”

 

What does the “lead us not into temptation” line really mean?

It depends on what kind of translation you are doing.

The Greek verb in this passage—eisphero—means “bring,” so “do not bring us into temptation” or “lead us not into temptation” are good, literal translations.

However, that’s not all there is to the story.

Theologically speaking, God does not tempt anyone. Thus the book of James states:

Let no one say when he is tempted, “I am tempted by God”; for God cannot be tempted with evil and he himself tempts no one; but each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire (Jas. 1:13-14).

The petition in the Lord’s Prayer thus needs to be understood as a request that God protect us from temptation.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church states:

CCC 2846 This petition goes to the root of the preceding one, for our sins result from our consenting to temptation; we therefore ask our Father not to “lead” us into temptation. It is difficult to translate the Greek verb used by a single English word: the Greek means both “do not allow us to enter into temptation” and “do not let us yield to temptation.” “God cannot be tempted by evil and he himself tempts no one”; on the contrary, he wants to set us free from evil. We ask him not to allow us to take the way that leads to sin. We are engaged in the battle “between flesh and spirit”; this petition implores the Spirit of discernment and strength.

 

Shouldn’t we use as literal a translation of the Lord’s Prayer as possible?

We’re already not doing so.

The previous petition in the standard Catholic version reads “and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

That’s not what the Greek literally says.

It says, “And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors” (Matt. 6:12).

Debts are a Semitic metaphor for sins, and the English translators have rendered this non-literally as “trespasses” to make the concept clearer to English-speakers.

Luke did the same thing for Greek-speakers in his version of the Lord’s Prayer, where this petition reads, “and forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive every one who is indebted to us” (Luke 11:4).

Notice how Luke shifts the first reference to “debts” to “sins” to make the meaning clearer.

Also note that, since Luke is divinely inspired, God doesn’t have a fundamental problem with using less literal translations to help people understand.

 

If the Catholic Church changed its translation, we’d be out of synch with other Christians. Shouldn’t all Christians who speak the same language use the same version of the Lord’s Prayer?

We’re already not.

Not only do English-speaking Catholics use “trespasses” where Protestants use “debts,” English-speaking Protestants also typically add a coda at the end:

For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory, for ever.

That’s not in the original Greek manuscripts and apparently started in the liturgy and then crept into some later copies of Matthew, which were used by Protestant translators early on.

(Modern Protestant translations typically omit this line or relegate it to a footnote as a result.)

 

But surely it’s a violation of God’s will for Christians to be using different versions of the Lord’s Prayer!

You might think that, but the Bible indicates otherwise. There have been differences in how the Lord’s Prayer is said going all the way back to the beginning.

We know that in the first century some Greek-speakers were using Matthew’s version, which reads:

Our Father who art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread;
And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors;
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil (Matt. 6:9-13).

But other Greek-speakers (especially those evangelized by St. Paul) used a quite different and shorter version:

Father,
Hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come.
Give us each day our daily bread;
And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive every one who is indebted to us;
And lead us not into temptation (Luke 11:2-4).

There might be a certain desirability for all Christians to be able to say the same version of the same prayer, but think about what we’ve got here: Two different divinely inspired versions of the prayer.

Whatever utility there may be to a common recitation of the Lord’s Prayer, it isn’t a fundamental priority for God or he wouldn’t have given us two different inspired versions in the Bible.

 

Are the French doing something innovative and unheard of by changing their version of the translation?

No. The standard Spanish and Portuguese translations already have the equivalent of “Do not let us fall into temptation.”

The French are just doing the same thing now.

(Incidentally, the fact the pope is a native Spanish-speaker means he’s used to the Spanish version with “Do not let us fall into temptation,” so one might expect him to have a preference for it.)

 

Should Protestants be worked up about this?

Not really. They should be able to recognize the points made above—which are not controversial—and the pope isn’t planning on doing anything at all here, much less anything that would affect them.

Protestants also have different versions of the Lord’s Prayer in circulation in their own communities.

Some use the version straight out of the King James—with old-fashioned words like “art” and “Thy.” But others use more modern language versions, with terms like “is” and “your.”

For that matter, some less-literal Protestant translations already vary the last petition along the lines discussed above. Here are some examples:

And don’t let us yield to temptation, but rescue us from the evil one (New Living Translation).

Don’t allow us to be tempted. Instead, rescue us from the evil one (GOD’S WORD Translation).

Keep us from being tempted and protect us from evil (Contemporary English Version).

Do not let us be tempted, but keep us from sin (New Life Version).

 

So who’s right here?

Nobody is definitively in the right or in the wrong. The divinely inspired word of God gives us two very different versions of the Lord’s Prayer, which shows us that God does not mind different versions being in circulation.

Further, one of these inspired versions (Luke’s) uses a less literal translation of Jesus’ original Aramaic (i.e., “sins” instead of “debts”), so God doesn’t have a fundamental problem with less literal translations as a way of helping people understand what they are saying.

We can acknowledge the benefits of having a common version we use together in the liturgy, and personally, I wouldn’t favor changing the English version of it.

However, that’s not anything anyone is proposing—not the pope, and not the U.S. bishops.

So let’s chill and recognize this for what it is: Yet another case of the media doing a sloppy, incompetent job.

The Weekly Francis – 06 December 2017

popefrancis

This version of The Weekly Francis covers material released in the last week from 7 November 2017 to 6 December 2017.

Angelus

General Audiences

Homilies

Messages

Speeches

Papal Tweets

  • “The most holy name of God can never be invoked to justify hatred and violence against other human beings.” @Pontifex 30 November 2017
  • “How much openness is needed to welcome people who feel alone and confused as they search for a meaning in life!” @Pontifex 1 December 2017
  • “May the wisdom of God help us to know how to welcome and accept those who think and act differently from us.” @Pontifex 2 December 2017
  • “Dear friends in Myanmar and Bangladesh, thank you for your welcome! Upon you I invoke divine blessings of harmony and peace.” @Pontifex 2 December 2017
  • “Every person is unique and unrepeatable. Let us ensure the disabled are always welcomed by the communities in which they live.” @Pontifex 3 December 2017
  • “Faith becomes tangible when it finds its expression in love and, especially, in the service of our brothers and sisters in difficulty.” @Pontifex 4 December 2017
  • “We are all beggars before the love of God, a love that gives meaning to our existence and that offers us eternal life.” @Pontifex 5 December 2017
  • “No child of God can be discarded in His eyes. He entrusts a mission to each one of us.” @Pontifex 6 December 2017

Papal Instagram

Will the Jerusalem Temple Be Rebuilt?

western wallJesus prophesied that the Jerusalem temple would be destroyed within a generation, and it was.

Jewish rebels began a war against the Romans in A.D. 66, and four years later the temple lay in ruins.

Will it ever be rebuilt?

Many Jews and Christians think so, even claiming that this must happen for certain prophecies to be fulfilled.

Tom Nash isn’t one of them, however. In a recent article at Catholic World Report, he argues that the temple will not be rebuilt.

Let’s look at what he has to say . . .

 

Advocates of Rebuilding the Temple

Nash takes a special interest in a group of people known as premillennialists, who believe that—after the Second Coming—Jesus will reign on earth for a thousand years or more before the Last Judgment and the beginning of the eternal order.

In recent years, many premillennialists have also belonged to a school of thought known as dispensationalism, and dispensationalists commonly have certain additional beliefs, including:

  • There will be a rapture of believers several years before the Second Coming
  • The Jerusalem temple will be rebuilt before the Second Coming
  • The Antichrist will proclaim himself to be God in the Jerusalem temple
  • After the Second Coming there will also be a temple in Jerusalem (either the same one, reconsecrated, or a new one)
  • During the millennium, animal sacrifices will be offered at this temple in memory of what Jesus did on the cross

Nash doesn’t make this clear, but historic premillennialists would not endorse all of these ideas.

As some of their characteristic beliefs indicate, dispensationalists hold that the Jerusalem temple will be rebuilt in order for certain prophecies to be fulfilled.

They are not the only ones, however. As Nash indicates, many Jews also believe that there will be a future temple. Some think that this will not happen until the future, messianic age. Others think that it could happen sooner.

There also is a division between Jews who would favor reinstituting animal sacrifices at the temple and those who would prefer it to serve simply as a house of prayer.

 

Catholic Teaching

The Catholic Church has rejected premillennialism (see CCC 676, where it is rejected under the name “millenarianism”).

It believes that there will be a future appearing of Antichrist, which will precede the Second Coming. When Jesus returns, however, the Last Judgment and the eternal order will begin immediately.

The Church does not take a position on whether there will be a rebuilt temple.

Nash’s view that there will not be one is a legitimate theological opinion. However, so is the contrary.

As we will see, respected Catholics have advocated the view there will be a future temple.

 

The Fulfillment Argument

In his article, Nash cites several factors pointing to the fact that Jesus fulfilled the sacrificial system of the Old Testament, and so animal sacrifices are no longer necessary.

One could quibble with the details of some of his arguments (e.g., exactly what it meant when the temple veil was torn in two can be debated), but his fundamental conclusion is correct: Jesus fulfilled the Old Testament sacrificial economy.

One can even strengthen his argument, for Jesus not only predicted the destruction of the temple (Mark 13), he also identified himself with the temple (John 2:13-22). The destruction of the Jewish temple thus in some ways parallels the destruction of Jesus’ body on the cross, and Jesus takes the place of the Jerusalem temple for Christians (Rev. 21:22).

The main difficulty comes when Nash draws his conclusion:

So to think that God would authorize the reinstitution of Temple sacrifices is to misunderstand his salvific work and also, unwittingly, blaspheme Jesus, who rendered void the need for such inferior sacrifices.

Blasphemy (even unwitting) is a harsh charge, and it is not clear that it would be warranted in the case of dispensationalists. They think millennial sacrifices will not be needed in themselves but that they will be a way God has chosen to commemorate of what Jesus did on the cross.

Catholics make even stronger claims than this regarding the Eucharist, which not only commemorates but re-presents the sacrifice of the cross.

However, the key problem is that Nash seems to assume that God must “authorize the reinstitution of Temple sacrifices” for the temple to be rebuilt.

Many things happen in God’s prophetic plan that aren’t positively willed by God (e.g., the appearance of Antichrist and his evil activities).

Jesus certainly fulfilled the Old Testament sacrificial economy, and God does not will that animal sacrifices resume, but that doesn’t mean that at some point some Jews won’t build a temple in Jerusalem—whether as a house of prayer or a house of sacrifice.

Thus, if there are prophecies of a future temple, they need to be taken seriously.

 

The Julian Argument

Nash also cites the example of the Roman emperor Julian the Apostate, who tried to rebuild the temple in A.D. 363 but who was thwarted, with reports of unusual and possibly supernatural events playing a role in his decision to cease his efforts.

This failed attempt to rebuild could be taken as evidence for Nash’s position, but it could also be taken as evidence that it was not God’s will to allow the temple to be rebuilt then.

Julian the Apostate can be seen as a forerunner of Antichrist, and his plan to rebuild the temple as a foreshadowing of what Antichrist will do.

Julian simply didn’t get to carry the project through because it wasn’t yet God’s time.

 

St. Paul on the Temple

Are there prophecies that point to a future temple? A famous passage in St. Paul reads:

Let no one deceive you in any way; for [the day of our Lord Jesus Christ] will not come, unless the rebellion comes first, and the man of lawlessness is revealed, the son of perdition,  who opposes and exalts himself against every so-called god or object of worship, so that he takes his seat in the temple of God, proclaiming himself to be God (2 Thess. 2:3-4).

Interpreters have proposed a number of possibilities for what temple Paul is referring to, including God’s heavenly temple, the Church, or a purely metaphorical temple.

However, one of the strongest possibilities is that he was referring to the Jerusalem temple.

This is especially likely given the recent background to this letter, which was written around A.D. 50.

Less than a decade earlier, the Roman emperor Caligula, who claimed divine honors, attempted to have his statue put in the Jerusalem temple—an event that was prevented by Caligula’s assassination.

This plan produced a major convulsion in the Jewish community, and the thought of a satanic “man of lawlessness” taking his seat “in the temple of God” and “proclaiming himself to be God” is naturally understood in terms of a world ruler doing this in the Jerusalem temple.

Since this didn’t happen before A.D. 70, the prophecy could point to a future temple—and Caligula, like Julian, could be a forerunner of Antichrist.

 

Church Fathers Weigh In

So what happened after the temple was destroyed? How did the Church Fathers interpret Paul’s prophecy?

They had a variety of views. Some thought the passage applied to the Church, but others simply inferred that the temple would be rebuilt and that the Antichrist would take his seat in Jerusalem.

Advocates of this view include:

We thus have a mixed tradition, with some Fathers and doctors (Cyril is a doctor of the Church) advocating the view that Paul’s prophecy points to a future Jerusalem temple.

Nash’s view that the temple will not be rebuilt should not be ruled out, but in light of Paul’s prophecy, its historical background, and the mixed tradition in the Church Fathers, the possibility of a future temple should be taken seriously.