John 8 - The NIV Application Commentary on the Bible: One-Volume Edition

“I Am the Light of the World!” (8:12–20). This is Jesus’s second “I am” saying that is followed by a predicate: “I am the light of the world” (v. 12). Tabernacles occurred in the late autumn and celebrated the harvest of tree and vine. The autumn equinox (where night and day are of equal length) provided the context for a light ceremony that was popular in Jerusalem and orchestrated during Tabernacles. Tabernacles witnesses the converging of multiple motifs—harvest, drought, the coming winter darkness, Israel’s desert wandering, and eschatological vision all merge in the temple ceremonies.

Four large stands each held four golden bowls; these were placed in the heavily used court of women. These sixteen golden bowls (reached by ladders) were filled with oil. When they were lit at night, all Jerusalem was illumined. Choirs of Levites would sing during the lighting, while people danced in the streets, carrying torches and singing hymns. Imagine the scene! In the very court where the lighting ceremony takes place, Jesus stands beneath sixteen lit bowls of oil and says that he is not only the true light of Jerusalem, but of the whole world!

Jesus’s use here—and the entire scene we have just built—is thoroughly Jewish. Jesus is referring to the countless times that God’s saving work in the world is described as “light.” John 1:5 reflects this tradition. Since in John’s Gospel Jesus is the realization or incarnation of God’s own presence in the world, it is unsurprising that “light” is used to describe the work of Christ sixteen times.

Jesus’s self-reference as light guiding people through darkness (as the pillar of light guided the Israelites in the desert) is quickly challenged. The Pharisees’ argument echoes what occurred during Jesus’s last visit to Jerusalem in chapter 5, when he referred to the legal qualifications of judicial witnesses. Unfortunately, his opponents have forgotten that in the earlier Jerusalem debate, Jesus showed that there were ample witnesses verifying his claim. Now Jesus must repeat again that his Father is a second witness (8:18).

But something important has now been added. Jesus would hardly say that whenever he speaks alone his words are invalid, as if they must be weighed by the double-witness judicial rule. Jesus’s judgment is true, and his words are true, not because of their inherent persuasiveness but because of their origins. This is the new and unexpected authority behind Jesus’s testimony.

Jesus comes from the Father. He does not speak on his own authority but is echoing what the Father has told him to say. The root problem with Jesus’s opponents, then, is that they do not know the Father. They are incapable of having true spiritual discernment because they do not know the source of all spirituality, God himself. Without a deep knowledge of God and his love, it is impossible to recognize his Son.

“I Am Going Away!” (8:21–30). The question of Jesus’s origins remains at the center of the discussion. Jesus will depart eventually to return to where he came from. The crowd concludes that Jesus must be going to his death—a departure they would prefer to avoid for themselves. Jesus will indeed die, and this departure will be a return to his Father in heaven.

Jesus’s answer in verses 23–29 provides a critical insight into his identity and his incomprehensibility before his listeners. It also explains the urgency of humanity’s condition. Once Jesus departs, once the opportunity to hear him and believe in him is gone, the world is lost. But the crowd misses the point altogether. Jesus is not simply a prophet with divine things to communicate, but he bears divinity in himself. He is not a man with religious insight (from below, from the world), but God’s Son (from above, from heaven). This prompts his audience to ask its most important question. Not: “What do you mean?” But: “Who are you?” (v. 25).

The supreme moment of revelation is when Jesus is “lifted up” (v. 28), which is not merely the cross but the series of events that lead to his glorification: betrayal, trial, crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension. Through these events, the world will see not that Jesus is simply telling the truth but that he is the bearer of God’s divine name (“I am”; see Exod 3:14). “When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am” (v. 28). Again, verse 28 leaves off the predicate, making Jesus’s audience wonder and marvel at the amazing claims he is making.

In the Synoptic Gospels there are three instances when Jesus specifically predicts his coming death in Jerusalem. The Fourth Gospel parallels this with three statements about the “lifting up of the Son of Man”; in each we see John emphasize how it is God’s sovereign will that determines his Son’s fate (see also 3:14; 12:32–34). Jesus’s remarkable sense of the Father’s presence, even as he describes the cross that awaits him, is linked to his perfect obedience to God’s will.

The faith of some of the Jews in his audience provides an interesting counterpoint to what we learned in 8:20. In the first section (8:12–20) the discussion concludes with speculation about Jesus’s capture. Now we have a description of some who believe. These two reactions parallel what we observed elsewhere in the Gospel where Jesus’s audience divides: some completely oppose him, while others are receptive and welcoming.

Spiritual Ancestry (8:31–59). In the first round of debate (vv. 31–41), Jesus challenges a widely held assumption in Judaism. From the earliest chapters of the Old Testament, the people of Israel understood the importance of their election. They would be a blessing not only to God but to other nations. However, the sense of obligation and responsibility that this inspired was eventually replaced with feelings of privilege and protection.

With its history of slavery and bondage, freedom was a precious treasure among the Jews. Yet, Jesus claims, it is not religious heritage that brings true freedom, but truth (v. 32). “The truth will set you free.” But to be set free means that there is a bondage from which you need to be freed. The captivity, of course, to which Jesus points is a bondage to sin. Jesus is urging that the more devastating bondage is not to any political power but to spiritual and moral depravity. The Jews consider themselves to be free (sons of Abraham), but in actuality, Jesus insists, they are slaves (of sin).

Thus, because they are slaves, their residence in God’s family may be in jeopardy. Lineage from Abraham is a matter of faith, and any claim to blood heritage that brings spiritual privilege always stands in question. The “son” who is secure and permanent is likely Jesus himself. If the son in such a large household sets a slave free, he will be free indeed (v. 36). Imagine, then, if the Son of God sets a slave free. The freedom enjoyed would be indescribable.

Jesus acknowledges that his audience bears the bloodline of Abraham, but because of their desire to kill him and their refusal to accept his word, they betray that their lives are not guided by the Father, whose voice Jesus obeys. True Jewishness is inward, not physical and outward. Jesus implies that their activity points to another spiritual father.

As the argument unfolds, Jesus’s opponents see clearly where he is leading. Without Abraham, they cannot belong to God’s people. “We are not illegitimate children” is now a defense and an attack (v. 41). “We” is emphatic and implies comparison: we are not illegitimate (but you certainly are). Some scholars argue for a hint here of speculation about Jesus’s extraordinary origins and its irony. By claiming to have God as Father, Jesus cannot have a human father, which is precisely the argument from the Synoptic nativity stories. Yet illegitimacy was a slur used by Jews against the Samaritans (and vice versa), and this will come up in verse 48 for Jesus.

If Jesus will not permit them Abraham, certainly (they think) he cannot forbid them an appeal to God. But even this is rejected. Since Jesus himself has come from God the Father, then if their parentage stemmed from God the Father, they would love the things of Jesus. But, in fact, they do not. They do not “belong to God” (v. 47) and are therefore working against his purposes. It is not as if Jesus’s opponents disagree with him; the problem is more essential. Given who they are, they cannot recognize the truth, the Father, or anyone sent from the Father speaking the truth. The problem is not intellectual, but spiritual.

The climax of these implications is finally given in verse 44. His opponents’ desire to kill Jesus unmasks the true nature of their spiritual ancestry: Satan. The murder the devil promoted “from the beginning” refers either to Cain and Abel or to the fact that it was through Satan’s work that death came into the world, making him the architect of death. This is contrasted with Jesus, the architect of truth and life.

The opponents of Jesus now turn back accusations on him (v. 48). If it is true that his opponents are children of the devil, then he must be a Samaritan and demon possessed. This is a radical dishonoring. By Jesus’s day, the enmity between Jews and Samaritans was intense. This slur likely had become a curse, much like heretic or unbeliever, so Jesus does not even take the time to refute it. The charge of demon-possession is far more serious. Rather than seeing God’s work in Jesus, his opponents now point to Satan.

Jesus has made numerous absolute claims. He comes from the Father and bears the truth; their inability to see this truth betrays their separation from the Father and his purposes. Is this self-promotion? Jesus cannot deny the essential relationship he has with the Father. The Son glorifies the Father, and likewise the Father glorifies the Son. If his opponents cannot understand the truth about Jesus, they cannot understand this either.

Next Jesus makes a claim about life and death (vv. 51–58). That Jesus can promise life eternal to those who obey him sets him apart from every spiritual luminary in Judaism, Abraham included. The force of verse 53 is literally, “What are you making of yourself here?” It is antagonistic and aggressive. But Jesus’s defense is that he is not glorifying himself; instead, he is faithfully witnessing to his relationship with the Father. Jesus is simply living in fidelity to his word, and because God is the author and sustainer of life, all who know him will share in that life.

If Judaism could make an appeal to their ancestry in Abraham, Jesus now makes a parallel appeal (v. 56). No rabbi would object to Jesus’s claim that Abraham would see the messianic era. But Jesus does not say this. Instead, he says: “Your father Abraham rejoiced at the thought of seeing my day; he saw it and was glad” (emphasis added). But how can Jesus and Abraham know each other since Jesus is not even fifty years old?

The climax of the entire chapter arrives at verse 58. This is an absolute claim to preexistence anchored in the absolute “I am” (egō eimi) echoing the Greek translation of God’s divine name given in Exodus 3:14. To exist before the birth of Abraham—and yet to stand here today—is the boldest claim Jesus has yet made. It recalls the affirmation of the prologue that the Word existed even at the beginning of time. His existence has been continuous since his life is completely drawn from God’s eternal life.

That Jesus’s audience interpreted his words as a divine claim is seen in their reaction. They are furious because they believe they have heard blasphemy, for which stoning is the legal response. Jesus slips away, not as a result of his own ingenuity, but because God has appointed an hour when his death will be necessary. There is a divine plan, and no action of a mob will interrupt it.