Reflections on John 10: Jesus as the "Good Shepherd," Part 3a

Bernhard Plockhorst (1825-1907),
"The Good Shepherd"

 

In our previous explorations into the image of Jesus as the "Good Shepherd" (here and here), we discussed the "parable(s)" (paroimia) spoken by Jesus in verses 1-5 and interpreted by him in verses 7-18, both in terms of its surface meaning and the Christological significance implied by his use of the figure. Jesus presents himself both as the "gate" for the sheep and as their genuine shepherd, in that he knows them intimately, leads them out to pasture for nourishment, and protects them from death at the hands of "wolves" by laying down his life for their benefit. What his hearers would have understood by this self-designation―and which, considering the question asked by the "Jews" in the Temple precincts at Hanukkah (John 10:24)―was an implicit claim to being the "one shepherd" promised for the eschaton in Ezekiel 34 (cf. Ezekiel 37:24). Jesus the Good Shepherd is Jesus the long-awaited Davidic ruler. In other words, the Johannine Jesus was making an implicitly messianic claim.

Perhaps the most curious aspect of the "interpretation" offered by Jesus to the parable is his claim that being the "good" (agathos) shepherd entailed, not his ability to ward off devouring predators and, hence, his willingness to die to protect the sheep, but rather actually dying―tithēsin, "lays down," in the present tense!―for them to give them life. Not only is the notion of the death of the shepherd absent from the parable per se; one could also justifiably wonder whether warding off the sheep's enemies by staying alive to defeat them would be a more effective strategy for their protection than dying. Reflecting on this peculiarity simply underlines the obvious: John's presentation of the parable and its interpretation reflects the course Jesus' ministry took in history, a course John understood to be a theological necessity (dei) as well (John 3:14; cf. the Markan tradition of Jesus' prediction of Peter's denials of Jesus, quoting Zechariah 13:7: "I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered" [Mark 14:27]).

Large swaths of Second Temple Judaism, of course, anticipated an eschatological deliverer or deliverers of various types. Perhaps the most common hope was for a kingly "messiah" based on God's covenant promise to David in 2 Samuel 7, one who would militarily defeat the Gentiles who had oppressed them and kept them in de facto "exile" for six centuries and counting. One expression of this hope may be found in the (Pharisaic?) 1st-century BCE Psalms of Solomon 17:

See, O Lord, and raise up for them their king, the son of Dauid,

    at the time which you chose, O God, to rule over Israel your servant.

And gird him with strength to shatter in pieces unrighteous rulers,

    to purify Ierousalem from nations that trample her down in destruction,

in wisdom and righteousness, to drive out sinners from the inheritance,

    to smash the arrogance of the sinner like a potter's vessel,

to shatter all their substance with an iron rod,

    to destroy the lawless nations by the word of his mouth,

that, by his threat, nations flee from his presence,

    and to reprove sinners with the thought of their hearts

(Psalms of Solomon 17:21-25, NETS)

John, of course, like the Synoptic Evangelists that preceded him, wholeheartedly affirmed that Jesus was the "Messiah" or Davidic king for whom many Jews hoped. Near the close of his programmatic Prologue, he makes the cryptic, by no means perspicuous claim, "Because the Law was given through Moses, but grace and truth have come through Jesus Christ" (= "Messiah," the Anointed One; John 1:17, trans. JRM). Then, in what looks like what was intended as the climax of the original form (first edition?) of the Gospel, John articulates his purpose for writing: "But these things have been written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name" (John 20:31, trans. JRM).

In between these bookend affirmations, many people confess Jesus to be this Messiah-King. Early on, one of John the Baptist's disciples, Andrew, upon seeing John pointing at Jesus as he was passing by and calling him the "Lamb of God," immediately left to follow Jesus. After spending the day with him, Andrew left to find his brother Simon (Peter), to whom he made the astounding claim, "We have found the Messiah (Messias), which, translated, is 'Christ'" (John 1:41, trans. JRM). The very next day, Jesus called on Philip to follow him; upon doing so, Philip found his friend Nathanael and told him they had found the one "promised by Moses and the prophets." After Jesus, by displaying an uncanny knowledge he could not have come to by ordinary means, allayed his initial skepticism that any good could "come from Nazareth," Nathanael confesses, "Rabbi, you are the son of God; you are the King of Israel" (John 1:49).* Later, in contrast to the Synoptics' record of the confession of Peter (Mark 8:29 et par.), John places the climactic confession of Jesus' identity on the lips of his friend Martha: "Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the son of God, the one who is coming into the world" (John 11:27, trans. JRM). Shortly after this Jesus is hailed as king by the crowds as he enters Jerusalem triumphally for the Passover, seated on a donkey's colt (John 12:12-15). Besides these confessions and acclamations, the narrative provides glimpses of discussions as to whether or not Jesus fit the bill for such a role―some hopeful, as with the Samaritan woman from Sychar (John 4:29); some merely inquisitive, as here in John 10; and at one other time, in a bit of classic Johannine implicit irony, dispute about how a would-be Messiah could come from Nazareth instead of Bethlehem (John 7:25-44).**

Most significant for our purposes, however, are two of the four texts in which the title "king" (basileus) is used in connection with Jesus. The first is John 6:15, where, after his "sign" of the feeding of the 5000, he quickly withdraws to solitude on the mountain when he came to realize "they were about to come and grab hold of him to make him king" (trans. JRM). Considering the fact that John has already tacitly identified Jesus as the "King of Israel" and indicated the latter's own implicit acceptance of the role, Jesus' scurrying off to the hills should not be understood as a spurning of the title, but rather as a rejection of the crowd's misunderstanding both of what genuine messianic kingship would entail and from whom it could be granted.***

The second reference is the famous confrontation between Jesus and the Roman Prefect Pontius Pilate on Good Friday morning (John 18:33-38). In response to the "Jews'" charge that Jesus had claimed to be king, Pilate asks Jesus, "Are you the king of the Jews?" Jesus' response to the man who had the political power over his life and death**** is a classic of ambivalence and redefinition. He first asks Pilate whether or not he came up with the question on his own or whether others had put him up to answer the question (18:34). Shortly he comes around to answering the question substantively:

Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.”  Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” (John 18:36-37, NRSV)

Nowhere in John's Gospel before this incident does Jesus claim to be "king." By contrast, his preferred identification is as "son" to his "father." Even here, under direct questioning, he simply responds, "You say that I am a king" (sy legeis hoti basileus eimi). Yet, from the preceding verse, in which he claims a "kingdom," it is apparent that his reticence is due to ambivalence rather than denial. Yes, he is a king, but not the kind of one his adversaries―or, needless to say, Pilate himself― imagined or feared.***** His kingdom, Jesus memorably states, is not from this world (hē basileia hē emē ouk estin ek tou kosmou toutou); it is not from here (enteuthen) (18:36). It is certainly for the benefit of the world, and one day will be consummated on earth. But his kingdom differs from normal earthly kingdoms both in its authorization and execution; it is sourced in the realm from which he came and exercised in the service of truth rather than military power (18:37). For Jesus, as John narrates so forcefully, the path to his kingly throne and exercise of royal authority is the path that leads straight to the horrors of death on a gibbet on Calvary.

But how did John―or Jesus, for that matter―come to this alternative understanding of messianic kingship? To be sure, John, like all the writers of the New Testament, looked back at Jesus life, and from there back to the sacred texts of the Hebrew Bible, in light of the resurrection. As Richard Hays has so forcefully argued, he "read backwards" from Easter to re-examine those texts and discern within them patterns and foreshadowings earlier readers―and authors!―would certainly not have recognized.******

For John, Jesus the Good Shepherd would exercise his kingly role precisely by dying for the benefit of his sheep, not merely to protect them from devouring predators, but to give them life. He knew this from the events that took place in Jerusalem in 30/33 CE. Perhaps it is not without merit to ask what scriptural basis he had for making this extraordinary claim, counterintuitive and contrary to rampant contemporary expectations as it was. After all, texts such as Psalms of Solomon 17 were laced with scriptural allusions. Are they simply to be ignored? For that, we will have to wait for the next installment of this series.

*The parallelism of the confession indicates that Nathanael's confession that Jesus was the "son of God" was based on the Royal coronation Psalm 2:7 ("You are my son; this day have I begotten you") and thus synonymous with the confession that Jesus was the "king" of Israel, i.e., the Davidide promised in 2 Samuel 7. John, of course, as we will see, understands this "sonship" in a far deeper, indeed metaphysical sense, about which Nathanael had no inklings.

**Though John clearly wrote his Gospel independently of the Synoptics, I would argue that it is most likely he didn't write in ignorance of them. Thus it is all but certain he was aware of the tradition, found in both Matthew and Luke, of Jesus' birth in Bethlehem as per the prophecy of Micah 5:2.

***The "faith" of the crowd, misinformed as it was and based on their having witnessed the "sign" of the miraculous feeding by the lake, was not genuine, and hence parallel to the similarly sign-based and shallow "faith" of many who witnessed the "signs" attendant upon the cleansing of the Temple in John 2:13-25, but to whom Jesus would not "entrust himself" (ouk episteuen auton, 2:24). It is hardly accidental that, once the crowd found him back in Capernaum, he immediately delivered an offensive discourse about "eating his flesh" and "drinking his blood" that John clearly intended as a thinly-veiled allusion to the significance of the Last Supper/Lord's Supper, otherwise absent from his narrative (John 6:25-59). The discourse had the desired effect: "many" of his "disciples" turned away from following him (6:66), but genuine ones, epitomized by Peter, stayed on (6:68-69).

****Of course, in his Good Shepherd Discourse in John 10, Jesus asserts his own authority and sovereign power to lay down his life and take it up again, the implication being that the earthly authorities who would sentence Jesus to death later in the narrative only did so because they had been granted their power on Jesus' own authority!

*****Cf. James D. G. Dunn, Neither Jew Nor Greek: A Contested Identity (Christianity in the Making, vol. 3; Grand Rapids and Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2015) 341: "The claim to be Israel's royal Messiah is affirmed but transcended, and any this-worldly political overtones are defused." This concern, needless to say, is not unique to the Fourth Gospel. One thinks, for example, of Mark's famous secrecy motif.

******Cf. Richard B. Hays, Reading Backwards: Figural Christology and the Fourfold Gospel Witness (Waco, Tex.: Baylor University Press, 2014), and especially his magisterial and elegantly written Echoes of Scripture in the Gospel (Waco, Tex.: Baylor, 2016). Cf. also his "Reading Scripture in Light of the Resurrection," in Ellen F. Davis and Richard B. Hays, The Art of Reading Scripture (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003) 216-38.