A Symbolic Gospel

John: A Symbolic Gospel

The Gospel according to John is the fourth in the series of Gospels and is an exceptional work from the literary and theological point of view, delightful work, apparently simple, but very deep, rich with great theology, the fruit of deep and careful meditation. Our Eastern Orthodox brethren address John’ O theologos,’ the theologian par excellence, the one who contemplated God in the flesh; the Logos became flesh, encountered by the disciples, John among them. This encounter brought about a religious experience of the divine mystery. Such an experience that allowed him to penetrate the depths of the Spirit.

One of the ancient commentators on the Gospels, Clement of Alexandria, great Master of the third century, says: “John, seeing the other evangelists exposed ‘ta zomatica,’ the human, physical, material things relative to the historical existence of Jesus, composed one’ ewanguelium pnaumatikon,’ a spiritual gospel. The tradition calls the Gospel of John a ‘spiritual gospel’; however, it is not easy to explain in what sense is it ‘spiritual.’

Spirit is not in contrast to the material; the Spirit is the life of God; it is the penetrating intelligence of the Lord; it is the wisdom of the Spirit. Therefore, this spiritual text wants to deepen the meaning of the facts; it does not cancel them, deepens them, considers the facts from a theological point of view, and then goes to the depths to get to the most profound message.

In this sense, it is spiritual because it captures the reality signified by the historical fact of Jesus. For this reason, we can consider a term, which is more appropriate to our times, and to say that the Gospel of John is “symbolic.”

The term ‘symbolic’ is precious, coming from ancient tradition signifying to put one thing together with another. Let’s try to reflect on the word. ‘Sym – bolon’; as a Greek term, it is composed of two elements: the preposition ‘syn,’ which means ‘together’ and ‘bolon,’ from the root, is the verb ‘balo’ = put or throw. So symbolic means to put something together with something else to get the totality.

A curious element in the old orphanages, there still exist preserved objects divided in half that were used by parents taking a child there. For example, embroidered handkerchief, cut in two; half was placed next to the child; it is implicitly understood that the one who brought the other half of that handkerchief is the father. For example, if in Florence, at the Hospital of the Innocents, someone wanted to request recognition of the child, half of the handkerchief was an authorized document to recognize the son because a totality was obtained by putting the two pieces together. Think of the work of those who put together a puzzle with a myriad of components that in themselves have little value or meaning. Still, with patience, putting together the various details, a picture is composed of an exact figure. It is the same reality of the mosaic: a splendid mosaic is made of many pieces; if we disassemble the mosaic separating the different parts, we could also catalog them, count them, specify where the gold tiles come from, which minerals are the blue and the red ones, but in the end, we will risk not knowing what the mosaic represented. This is not the way to study a large mosaic.

It’s not about disassembling the pieces but apprehending the whole. Only by putting the pieces together can the mosaic be understood, and the message that the one who composed the mosaic, putting together the details, wanted to convey. Therefore, the symbolic procedure is in the literature, this commitment of the reader to put together what appears with the meaning behind it.

The verb derived from ‘symbolon’ is not used by John but by the Evangelist Luke, and he uses it only once for Mary when he says that the mother of Jesus kept these things meditating on them in her heart. A reader who encounters the verb ‘meditate’ never imagines that in Greek, it is: συμβάλλουσα – symbalousa. ‘Conferens’ is the Latin translation: ‘ferens cum’ = putting together. What is meditation? It is precisely this commitment to putting together all the little details in such a way to have a complete picture. When the image is complete, the understanding is greater, more profound.

The reader encounters many details, as do those that make the historical experience. When we meet a person, we know many details about that person, but what counts is not the meticulous analysis of all the details but to put together all those realities to get the whole picture, not much of physical but physical/moral image of that person. That is the way the evangelists recapture the image of Jesus.

In particular, John created a symbolic portrait of Jesus, where many details of the story have a meaning, a meaning that the reader must learn to grasp. That is why the same author, finishing his work at the end of chapter 20, says that he wrote many signs. It is one of the characteristic terms of the fourth Gospel. After narrating the encounter of risen Lord with the disciples, he writes: “Many other signs Jesus did in the presence of his disciples, that are not related in this book. These are written so that they believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and so that believing they may have life through him” (Jn 20:30).

This conclusion is crucial because it reveals the intention of the author. First of all, John tells us that he has written signs performed by Jesus. He does not write all of them but makes a selection. To call the works of Jesus as signs means that the author wants to communicate that these events are significant in the earthly human life of Jesus, and there is an ulterior significance. The signs are reminders of other things. Inevitably, signs are material in nature but point to a greater reality. If you see footprints on the sands of the sea, you see a sign. What is a footprint? It’s just a little bit more pressed sand, but by the shape of the pressed sand, you understand that a man or a dog has passed, and you indicate the direction in which he walked; you don’t see the man, you don’t even see the foot, but looking at the pressed sand you understand that a man has passed. You imagine it because human intelligence is symbolic, gathers the details.

It takes a split moment to do all this mental process. I saw the pressed sand, and I understood that a man has passed because if the sand has that shape, it means that it was a boot that produced it, but the boot does not walk alone, there must be a foot inside and the foot attached to a leg; the leg is part of a person. If the foot is large, the person who passed by is big.

It is rapid reasoning, but there are important steps; this is a symbolic process. Or, as soon as I smell smoke, I understand that something is burning because there would be no smoke if there were no fire burning. Signs are things that bring to mind other things. The smoke brings fire to mind; it reminds me that I forgot about the pot on the fire. I smell smoke through my nose, and it came to mind what I had forgotten. It is a symbolic fact; my brain reasons in this way and the literati who symbolically construct their texts want a collaboration with the reader. They are looking for an intelligent reader. Imagine that the author winks at you while telling you an action, in which he says: ‘pay attention, be careful, try to understand what I mean; look in-depth, see more, look back, do you understand the reference?’ The reader becomes alert and reads the text attentively.

John holds that all the aspects of the earthly human life of Jesus become signs of God’s love, signs of how God is, how God thinks, and how God acts in history. Seeing Jesus, a historical person, recognizable, seeing his work, one understands what God does. There is the possibility to see the invisible. The symbolic narrator shows through empirical elements that lie beyond human experience, but Jesus reveals them.

The key idea for John is that Jesus is the revealer of the Father. The Logos, the thought, the Word, the eternal wisdom of God made flesh, experienced and encountered touched, seen, recognized, understood, even more, they understood God. They understood God because the Logos made flesh has revealed that God is Father. They have revealed his gestures, the way of being, of thinking, of acting of God. That is why he calls them signs.

It is not synonymous with a miracle; it is not simply something extraordinary that attracts attention; but a significant act, signifying some things. Therefore, John says, Jesus performed many signs, but ‘I have chosen only a few; I selected some of them so that you believe.’ The faith of the listeners is the objective of the Evangelist John. Not so much to start believing but continue to believe.

The Gospel of John is not an initial proclamation; it is not an elementary narration, not directed to the beginners, but a profound text for those who have specific literary competence. Precisely because of its spiritual depth, it is not aimed at beginners; and from ancient times, the ancient Fathers of the Church always called the Fourth Gospel for the mature, for the advanced disciples. It is not the first step in knowing Jesus. It is necessary, however, to continue to believe and mature in faith.

The objective of this faith is Jesus as Christ and Son of God. We can see a parallel at the beginning of the Gospel of Mark. He starts his mentioning the origin of the Good News that Jesus is Christ and Son of God. Mark is a gospel for beginners, for catechumens who are beginning to know Jesus, and the purpose is to show the origin of this affirmation: Jesus is Christ, Son of God.

John is the fourth Gospel, writes after many years, writes profoundly, writes for the advanced, but the objective is the same: The object of faith is always the same – Jesus as Christ and Son of God. ‘Christ’ indicates the function; he has the messianic task of the consecrated king; he is the official delegate of God. ‘Son of God’ is the nature, the essence of that man, for he is not simply a king, but he is the Son; he is the Son of God. He is God as the Father who performs the messianic project in a new way compared with the thought of the prophets of old.

There is continuity, completion, and an exceptional surpassing; there is an extraordinary novelty. John, as a Jew, welcomed this Master and understood that he is much more than a mere master. He saw his glory, he understood the essence of his nature, understood his divinity, he understood that he is the image of the Father, the Logos that reveals the true divinity. He not only makes known but communicates life.

If you notice, there are two conclusions: ‘So that you believe’ and ‘so that by believing you have life.’ Believing in itself is not the end. It is a passage to reach life in Jesus’ name, in full communion with him. The objective is to live, live well, realize a life of fullness. The way to reach this fullness of life is faith. This faith is communicated through testimony.

The Gospel of John is a testimony of the beloved disciple. The term ‘witness’ is very special to John. He presents himself as the witness; he was there, the one who saw and communicates to others the beauty of what he experienced, the foundation of all that he understood.

The narration of John is bracketed between two testimonies: in the beginning, he presents John the Baptist who bears witness to Jesus when he begins his ministry; and at the end, in chapter 19, when the soldier pierced the side of Jesus crucified, who was present as an eye witness, John, gives the testimony: “An eyewitness has testified, and his testimony is true; he knows that he is speaking the truth so that you also may come to believe.”

It is a parenthesis in which the author intervenes in the text; it’s a literary intrusion, a bracket in narration. He gives the testimony, looks the reader in the face, and says: ‘I am an eyewitness; I saw it, and I tell you so that you can reach a relevant conclusion, and you also believe as I have believed.’ John the Baptist begins the work by witnessing to Jesus. John the Evangelist ends the Gospel by giving testimony to Jesus.

The whole story of Jesus is bracketed between these two disciples’ testimonies, and both named John. But it is not easy to say who John is, the author of the fourth Gospel, because in the text, his name does not appear; the only identity given is that of the beloved disciple or ‘the witness,’ the one who gives the testimony,’ but everyone, since ancient times, they have always called the disciple John, the witness, the Evangelist, the theologian.