Into the mystic with John YOU'VE TAUGHT SCRIPTURE FOR VIRTUALLY all of your adult life. What led you to devote your life to it? When I came back to the monastery in 1952 after getting my degree, one of our scripture professors had died, and all the scripture classes were dumped on me—Old Testament, New Testament, everything. In retrospect it was a blessing. Many Bible scholars get much too narrow. It was providential that I was forced to study all parts of the scripture, because I was able to see the larger context. Eventually I moved into the New Testament, which I preferred. Back when I was a student, I dreamed of going into my monastic cell and studying tomes and writing learned articles. Then reality set in. But I must confess, teaching and preaching in parishes helped me to know what the questions are. So many scholars know the answers, but they haven't found the questions—they're answering questions people aren't asking. My pastoral work helped me see the Bible as a guide for people's lives that helps us deal with the real problems of life.
So how can the Gospel of John guide our lives and help us to deal with real problems?
Why?
What do you mean when you call it "symbolic"?
Can you give an example? The symbolic is very close to the mystical, which goes beyond the everyday part of life. Mysticism finds the presence of God everywhere. It's like turning the slats on a venetian blind, and suddenly you see beyond the facade. I think the reason the Gospel of John is so different from the other gospels is that the beloved disciple was a great mystic. This led him and his community into a deeper appreciation of the life and ministry and death and Resurrection of Jesus.
Where can you find John's mystical perspective? The two principals are Martha and Mary. Martha is the one who clamors for reasons. She rushes out to meet Jesus and wonders why he didn't come sooner. She attacks the problem, attacks death. She's like most of us, asking, "Why did that have to happen? Why so soon?" She tells Jesus, "I know my brother is going to rise up at the end of the world, but I'm worried about tomorrow." Jesus says, "I am the Resurrection and the life; he who believes in me, yet dies, shall live." Then he goes even farther, saying, "He who lives and believes in me shall never die," one of the most profound theological statements you'll find in any gospel.
Doesn't that satisfy Martha? Unfortunately, Martha gives the catechism answer. She should have answered, "Yes, I believe," or at least " I hope so." But she says, "Yes I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who has come into the world," almost like a memorized answer. So in response to a theological statement, she gives a theological answer, but ideas and thoughts don't solve the problem of death. Then we come to Mary, who is sitting at home. There's something about Mary that makes Martha quiet down, and she whispers, "The master is asking for you." Mary goes out to meet Jesus, and when he sees her weeping, he begins to weep. Then he says, "Where have you laid him?" Notice the reaction of Mary—totally different, not a theoretical reaction. In response, the Greek text says, "He was deeply moved," but the verb is almost impossible to put into English. Its literal meaning is "to snort with rage like a horse." Jesus is angry and deeply moved at what death has done to his friend. Then he goes into action. He goes to the graveyard and calls Lazarus forth.
Why did Jesus respond so differently to Mary? I don't want to beat on Martha because "Mary has chosen the better part," but John's gospel does emphasize that contrast.
Why was the author so interested in contrasting the two approaches? We humans need ritual, of course, but the danger is that people get so involved in the ritual they don't realize that its purpose is to lead us to experience. You can always have better music and better preaching, but when you go home you're the same person you were before you celebrated the ritual. There's no conversion. The ritual is dangerous in some ways. Better not to have it if you're not going to change your life. This is what John's gospel offers in relation to the others, and that is why it is so precious. One scholar said that if it stood alone as the only gospel, it would have been declared heretical because of its focus on Jesus' divinity and its downplaying of his human nature. But it is balanced by the synoptic gospels and by the letters of John, which reinforce Jesus' humanity.
Who exactly is the beloved disciple? Why not? Primarily because most of John's gospel takes place in Judea, and you can find subtle but telling indications that the beloved disciple lived in Judea. And, of course, John the apostle, brother of James, was from Galilee. So it's unlikely that John was the author.
How does the uniqueness of John's gospel show up in the Passion and Resurrection stories? Why? Because the major problem with ritual religion is focused on the Eucharist, the ritual of all rituals. My interpretation is that the author of this gospel needed room to explain this adequately and so moved it elsewhere to give it more attention. In some ways the foot-washing is almost more powerful than what Jesus does with the bread and wine, because foot-washing comes right out and explicitly states that what counts is serving others. As a matter of fact, I've often wondered if foot-washing could have become one of the sacraments. I was at a foot-washing once, and the person who was to wash my feet was a Church of the Brethren minister, many of whom are not sympathetic to Catholic traditions, to say the least. As he was about to wash my feet, he looks up at me and says, "I never thought I'd wash the feet of a Catholic priest." Then I had to wash his feet as well. I'll tell you, it does something to you.
Peter doesn't like the foot-washing either, does he? Peter is so attractive because he has no unpublished thoughts. When Jesus tells the apostles that the flock will be scattered, Peter says, "Well, I can't speak for the rest of these guys, but as for me, I will never abandon you." Jesus must have smiled, but he probably also liked to hear him say that. That same love that prompted Peter to exaggerate in the first place also prompted him to go to Jesus for forgiveness later on.
Aren't some of John's other Passion episodes very different as well? What does this all mean? The community of the beloved disciple was being persecuted. They didn't need to hear about the human suffering of Jesus but about his divinity. Then eventually we find Jesus before Pilate. When he and Pilate are talking about whether Jesus is a king, they're really talking about power, because Pilate understands power. Imagine, on the one hand you have Pilate, dressed like a king, probably wearing a crown, soldiers all around him, the power of the Roman empire behind him. And on the other side is Jesus, miserable, rejected, abandoned by his friends, turned over to this pagan by his own people. Who has power in this situation? It's pretty obvious. But John says no, please understand what constitutes real power: being a loving, caring person in all circumstances of your life. Jesus showed his power by dying for others, but we weren't saved just because he died. We weren't even saved because he suffered. We were saved because he loved, and that involves suffering and sometimes death. When we love, we die a little bit, long before we die. If you die to yourself enough, then real dying won't be a problem, just more of the same. But if you're always protecting yourself, always clinging, then it's going to be tough. Life will have to be torn out of your grasp.
Did Jesus die differently in John's gospel? At Cana, he had told her, "My hour has not yet come." It was almost as if he was saying, "You are my physical mother, but you are not yet my mother in the fullest sense." But at the foot of the cross, where she is suffering with him, she becomes the mother of the church. That's why he calls her "Woman," because she is the new Eve. And the unknown, unnamed beloved disciple represents the church and is the model for all of us.
What about the role of another woman, Mary Magdalene, in John's Resurrection story? She meets Jesus in the garden and doesn't recognize him at first. Then he says to her, "Mary," and she realizes it is he. The mystical connection with Jesus does not require an intermediary, does not need an angel to explain what is going on. It is personal, unmediated contact with Jesus.
Mysticism is a word that scares a lot of people off, isn't it? Evil and good are all around us. We have to learn to let the evil go and gather in the good, to say "thank you, Lord" every time something good happens. That "thank you" enables us to digest that goodness, make it part of ourselves. So the best witness, the best advertisement of mysticism is to be a joyful person. Mysticism is just the appreciation of the presence of God.
How can we truly grasp the Resurrection and have it make a difference in our lives? Good Friday tells us that this is not going to be easy; it will involve suffering. But don't feel sorry for those who suffer because they love. Feel sorry for those who suffer because they don't love, because they are proud, stubborn people who don't get their way. That suffering has nothing to do with Jesus' Passion. The Resurrection is God's third act, where we witness what God can do for those who dare to love as Jesus loved and who suffer because they love. Don't forget that every single word of the New Testament was written after the Resurrection, the central event, just as every word of the Old Testament was written after the Exodus of the Jews from Egypt, the central event of the Old Testament. The two are connected. In Exodus, God loved the slaves into freedom and gave them a purpose in life. Jesus brings us the second Exodus by taking on our bondage freely. His challenge is, "I'm giving my life for you so that you will dare to give your life for others." The only purpose of freedom, the only responsible use of freedom, is to love others, that they too may be free. Now, we all have ways of loving others that may or may not lead to their freedom. In fact, I think in the Last Judgment, there will be one big question: Did you let my people go? What was the impact of your life on the people you knew, especially your family?
I wonder whether most Catholics think of the church as bringing them freedom. Sure, we often have the other image of the church as a mother forbidding us to do certain things, but I think the dimensions of liberation are still very much in operation. When I hear Confessions, I am more edified than anyone by people's sense of honesty and genuine sense of relief at having the church tell them officially, "You're forgiven." I do think, however, that we can always do a lot more to make the church seem more like a mother who nurtures her children into maturity. Dumm's books: |