Christ’s Authority to Give Eternal Life to All People: Thoughts on John 17:2

I was reading in Jesus’ prayer from John 17 this morning and came across a phrase my Reformed friends often use to point to election, “For you (the Father) grant him (Jesus) authority over all people* that he might give eternal life to all those you have given him.” (NIV)

I’ve heard John Piper and others talk about this phrase as incontrovertible evidence that the writer of John’s gospel was, indeed, a Calvinist.

I think this verse can be read that way. And in that sense, I wan to be respectful to my Reformed friends.

Nevertheless, I don’t think it has to be read that way. I fact, I think this very verse helps us see an alternative interpretation.

The sentence is divided into 2 phrases: 1. For you grant him authority over all people, and 2. that he might give eternal life to all those you have given him.

If I understand them right, my Reformed friends essentially say that phrase 2 refers to a specific subset of phrase 1. In other words, there’s almost a sort of contrast between the two phrases. They could paraphrase the verses like this, “For you, Father, gave him, Jesus, authority over all people, but specifically, Jesus will give eternal life to only those the Father gave him.”

In this sense, my Reformed friends can maintain that Jesus is the lord of the world, while only being the savior of those whom God unconditionally elected.

But…

…as I said, I don’t think this has to be the only option. In fact, I see no reason to see these phrases as contrasting. Nor do I think phrase 2 refers to a specific subset of phrase 1. And I see no reason to assume the “all” in phrase 2 refers to anything less (qualitatively or quantitatively) than the “all” in phrase 1.

Instead of a contrast, I see a synonymous parallelism.

The parallelism is established by the usage of two key words used in both phrases:  “gave/di,dwmi,” and (as already noted) “all.”**

If the statements are synonymous parallels and not in contrast, then the two phrases essentially become equal: God gave all flesh = all those the Father gave Jesus.

Let me paraphrase John 17:2 like this, “For you, Father, gave him, Jesus, authority over all flesh in order that he might give eternal life to those over whom the Father gave him authority.”

Or, let me say it one other way…

“For you, Father, gave Jesus authority over all flesh in order that he might give eternal life to all flesh.”

The authority Jesus has is SPECIFICALLY FOR THE PURPOSE of bestowing eternal life. That’s the point Jesus is making. And assuming I’m right in this, why in the world would God give him authority to give eternal life to all, but then not give him all for the purpose of eternal life? That just would not make sense.

In other words, I think this verse only makes coherent sense of Jesus’ authority and God’s gifting if, and only if, the statements are intended to by synonymous parallels.

 

So, there you go. I’m not sure if I’m right. I haven’t found a commentator to agree with me…which is always a good sign and a bad sign. So, tell me what you think.

 

* “People” is not John’s word in the Greek. John’s word is sa,rx – flesh.

*Two different Gk. words are used for “all,” but both refer to an all encompassing or holistic reality. In other words, I don’t see any exegetical significance to the word choice here. I think it’s just to break up the monotony. John does that sometimes.

Eating High Schoolers and Other Sinners

When I was in high school who you ate with at lunch was one of the biggest markers of your identity. It was a demonstration of who your friends are, what your social status is, and therefore who you are.

We even had a “Christian table” where all the Christians sat at lunch. I didn’t know about this table until I was a Christian, of course. And no one intentionally created this table to be a Christians-only table, but that’s what it effectively was – a gathering of people who were just like each other serving as an identity marker of who you are.

When I read about Jesus eating with “sinners” in Luke 15, I’m struck by the fact that Jesus, knowing full well that who you eat with defines the type of person you are, intentionally chooses to eat with people nobody else would have sat with in my high school.

It looks to me like Jesus wouldn’t have eaten at the Christian table. He would’ve self-identified with the people nobody else wanted to eat with.

The thing is, to be a person nobody else wants to eat with is to be a person without an identity. Don’t’ miss this. Think about that kid in high school (if you knew he existed) who didn’t have anywhere to sit at lunch. He didn’t have any friends. He was a nobody. He had no social identity.

Jesus would’ve sat with him.

It might have angered the Christian table that Jesus didn’t sit with them. But Jesus’ concern wasn’t in self-identifying with the Christian table. Jesus’ concern was self-identifying with people who have no identity, and thereby giving that person an identity through friendship.

Sharing a meal with someone is one of the most spiritual things we can do. As someone reminded me in yesterday’s blog, pizza is spiritual. Because sharing a meal communicates friendship, equality, solidarity, identity.

The Phrarisees didn’t like Jesus because they thought a believer shouldn’t hang out with such rabble. So they stayed at their own table with people who think, act, and believe like them. But Jesus wanted to give life and love to sinners through authentic friendship. And he calls us to do the same.

So what does who you eat with say about who you are? What does who you eat with communicate about the God you serve? Would other people be able to see, just from who you eat with at school and work, that you are a person who sees sharing a meal as a spiritual practice?

Like Us, Like Him: Christmas Eve Sermon

Here’s my Christmas Eve sermon from Matthew 1:18-25. http://www.mylhumc.net/502652.ihtml

The sermon should be on top of the player’s list, but if not, click on the tab that says, ‘speakers,’ click on my name (Tom Fuerst) and it’s the sermon titled, Like Us, Like Him.

Jesus and Women

The Role of Women in the Church

Here’s a brief (4 min.) discussion by NT Wright on the role of women in the church. He discusses, among other things, those passages that ‘seem’ to prevent women from being ministers in the church like I Timothy 2, and provides a good biblical case for women in ministry. I hope you find it enjoyable.

The Birth of Jesus and the Death of Joseph

Joseph, the earthly father of Jesus, only appears in two biblical books. And even in those books he is a very minor character. In fact, he disappears completely after the brief story of Jesus at the Temple at the age of 12. By the time Jesus subjects himself to John’s baptism at the age of 30, Joseph is long gone. We never hear of him again. The text never offers us insight into why he is gone or what has happened.

New Testament scholars speculate about this, but the dominant opinion is that Joseph died sometime between Jesus’ 12^th year and his baptism around the age of 30. There’s a story here about which the gospels are mute. But even their silence, when a character simply disappears into thin air, a good story teller wants us to speculate – and the gospel writers are good story tellers! They do this because in such speculation they want to reveal something incredibly important about their Main Character:

When Jesus comes in the form of a baby on that Christmas some 2,000 years ago, he does not come as a divine spirit detached from the common pains and hurts of human life. He comes in human flesh, in a broken world, in a godly family – yet one that still labors under the wages of sin.

In this sin-stained world, Jesus experiences the death of his father. His human experience is so full and so real that not only does he take death upon himself, but he takes on the pain associated with experiencing the death of his dad – one of the most vulnerable and intimate of all human relationships! He is not so far removed from human experience that the only time he ever feels pain is on the cross. If Jesus wept when Lazarus died, I imagine he nearly had a breakdown when Joseph died.

And because of that, he can sympathize with me. With us.

For all the joy Christmas will bring this year, it will also bring much sadness for many people (I just read the obituary of a 6 day old baby). For all the peace Christmas will bring, it will also remind many families of their loved ones in Iraq or Afganistan. And for all the families Christmas will bring together, it will also remind many of us that our families have experienced a separation that can never be mended.

In the midst of this kind of pain, Christians have more on our side than sentimentalism and clichés.  We have an incarnate God who experienced human frailty, the worst of human disorientation, and the deepest of human depression. We have an incarnate God who can sympathize with our weaknesses, our fear of death, our times of disarray, and our feelings of loss. He became one of us, not only to save us (great as that is!), but also to know fully what it means to be human in a broken and chaotic world. The cross was the culmination of a lifetime of pain (that’s why he is the ‘man of sorrows’). Because of his participation in the universal human experience of seeing a loved one die, I know that Jesus can help me as I struggle with that same reality.

With a broken heart I can do nothing but offer praise to such a God as this!