13 No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. 14 And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, 15 that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. 16 For God so loved the worldthat he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. 17 Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.
John 3:13–17 (NRSV)
“For God so loved the world”…We’ve seen John 3:16 on so many posters and key chains and tattoos that its familiarity has obscured its radicality. What would it mean to believe that God loves the world? That Jesus is not a figure of condemnation, but of all-encompassing love? The capacious and eternal love of God is neither a verifiable fact nor an opinion, but a theological truth-claim, staked on trust in Jesus as a credible witness. Christians who believe in such love should be wary of both the politics of condemnation and the politics of purity.
This passage starts in the midst of Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus, in which they discuss being reborn. Jesus says, “no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above” (3:3). The word translated as “above” here can also mean “anew” and Nicodemus takes this latter meaning, asking how one grown old can be born again from a mother’s womb (3:4). This passage is preceded by narratives of conversion and baptism–a symbolic rebirth where the Spirit descends from above. Readers of the text know that Jesus is describing a spiritual renewal rather than a physical rebirth. The author of the Fourth Gospel consistently relies on the reader knowing more than the characters in the narrative, except for Jesus. When Nicodemus stumbles over the idea of an adult going through the birth canal, we readers are, in a sense, in on the joke.
Jesus continues trying to convince the clueless Nicodemus that believers must be born anew, but his methods are circuitous. Instead of clearing up the anew/above confusion or speaking plainly of what he means, Jesus proceeds by asserting his unique credibility: “No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man” (3:13). This sentence seems to have some temporal difficulties. If Jesus descended, then ascended, how is he talking to Nicodemus?
Once again, readers of the text know more than Nicodemus. We know how John’s account of the story starts: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (1:1). And, as John’s gospel was written decades after Jesus and appears to be addressed to people who already believe, readers know how the story ends—with Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection. John’s gospel gives witness to Jesus Christ as the one who encompasses all of time, who is—always—defined by his descent from and ascent into heaven. Readers who are Christian believe John’s testimony, which means they trust Jesus as a credible witness, even when his words are enigmatic or mysterious.
Jesus continues: “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life” (3:14-15). These words point to the past, specifically to the events described in Numbers 21. The ancient Israelites were impatient on their long journey out of Egypt, and spoke against God and Moses (21:4-5). God sent venomous snakes that killed many people. Some of the Israelites repented and went to Moses, who prayed to God and was instructed to put a serpent on a pole. When someone was bitten by a snake, looking at the uplifted bronze serpent would prevent them from dying (6-9).
Jesus’ words also point to the future, drawing an analogy between the bronze serpent lifted high on a staff and his own body lifted high on a cross. In this analogy, looking toward Jesus, crucified and glorified, will lead believers to eternal life. Still again, Jesus’ words point to the ongoing present, as not only those who saw Jesus on the cross with their eyes, but everyone who believes in Jesus throughout the centuries to come will have “eternal life” (3:15). In the Fourth Gospel, “eternal life” does not simply indicate ongoing life after death. It also means being part of eternity in the present. In John 11:25-26, Jesus says to Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” For the author of the Fourth Gospel, believers participate in Jesus’ own life: the life of the Word that was “in the beginning” and the life of Resurrection after the end of time itself.
In the gospel of John, the way someone comes to participate in the eternal life of Jesus is to believe. The term “belief” is complicated. During the Enlightenment, belief came to mean intellectual assent to a propositional truth claim. According to some figures, such as John Locke, belief was inferior to knowledge. For example, I know that 2+2=4 with a self-evident certainty. Several Christian thinkers argued that some elements of the faith could be known with that kind of certainty. The other aspects are believed, which indicates intellectual agreement with truth claims that are less than self-evident. This understanding of “belief” is not, in my view, particularly helpful for Christian theology. Focusing on intellectual assent to a propositional truth claim leaves out elements of Christian faith that are embodied, emotional, and communal. In the Fourth Gospel, believing Jesus involves a trusting relationship, as well as a narrative context in which this trust is formed.
Understandings of belief have been even more simplified since the Enlightenment, as “belief” in common parlance now means little more than “opinion.” About five years ago, my child came home from middle school with an assignment where he had to label each statement as “fact” or “opinion.” There was no other option. In this schema, all theological claims—beliefs—are merely opinions. This assignment came home a few years before “alternative facts” entered the U.S. lexicon, before bots spreading falsehoods became a routine part of public life, before information about a global pandemic became politicized to deadly extremes.
What does it mean to “believe” in Jesus? In this particular passage, Jesus has said something to Nicodemus—“No one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above” (3:3)—and when Nicodemus questions this, Jesus asserts that he is a credible source giving reliable testimony. Jesus chastises Nicodemus, saying, “Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony?” (3:11). In this specific context, believing in Jesus indicates accepting what he says as credible, trusting his testimony is accurate. While “belief” has various, interwoven meanings in the gospel of John, here it means accepting the testimony of a credible witness as true.
The center of Jesus’ testimony, as presented by the author of the gospel, is John 3:16. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” Jesus testifies to God’s motives and actions. This text presents the whole story of Jesus—from before the beginning to after the end—as fundamentally about God’s love for the entire world.
The claim that God loves the whole world is, at the very least, not obvious. Consider the counter-evidence of hurricanes, floods, tornadoes, tsunamis, earthquakes, droughts, and heatwaves. Birth defects, cancers, and viruses. Human frailty, stupidity, and capacity to cause harm beyond comprehension. Seriously, God loves us? Even if God once did, readers of this gospel know about Jesus’ torture and execution. And yet Jesus, the time-encompassing Jesus who speaks of himself as having ascended to heaven, says God loves the world.
The gospel of John repeatedly emphasizes the mind-blowing scope of God’s work in Jesus—it encompasses all of creation, all of time, and still more. And in all of that, Jesus is the love of God. Jesus continues: “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him” (3:17). In Jesus, God loves the entire world. All of it. All of us.
What would it mean to believe Jesus on this one? It might put a limit on the politics of condemnation. It is important for Christians to stand against injustice and exploitation. Romans 12:9 exhorts those who follow Jesus to “hate” or be repulsed by what is evil. But the logic of standing against evil, injustice, and exploitation flows from believing that God loves the world, making everything that harms the world repulsive.
In contemporary political discourse in the U.S., people on the right and the left portray one another as malignant and predatory. The term “Satanic” is one among many used to cultivate and direct fear for the purpose of political gain. Labeling someone as “Satanic” indicates that they are outside the love of God. Other terms do the same work, slightly less explicitly.
The flip side of the politics of condemnation is the politics of purity. Consider how often public figures make statements condemning their opponents as a means of demonstrating their own allegiance to their party’s values. On the right, this morphs into white Christian nationalism as that which is pure and true. On the left, this manifests in public vilification of anyone who is less than perfect in their progressive views, along with parochial disdain for those who think differently. These two sides are not equivalent—white Christian nationalism is far more dangerous than debilitating snobbery—but they are rooted in similar patterns of thought. There are good guys and bad guys; everything is at stake.
This passage – and the gospel of John in general – indicates that, for Christians, condemning others is ungodly. No one is outside the scope of God’s love. Our political conversations and strategies ought to be more nuanced than condemnation. Attendant to this is recognizing the vacuity of purity politics.
Even more importantly, Christians should recognize that while there are truly important things at stake, not everything is on the line. Although the world around us appears to be on the brink of complete destruction, what is happening in this moment is not the whole story. The larger reality is something contemporary Christians, who have neither descended from nor ascended to heaven, cannot discern.
But Jesus, a trustworthy witness, tells and embodies a testimony of God’s eternal love. That God loves the whole world is a theological truth claim. It is not a fact that can be proved or disproved. It is not an opinion, either. When a Christian makes this truth claim, this truth lays a claim on the one who makes it. This truth demands that those who claim it act in accordance with God’s love and treat all the world as beloved by God.
I think all our analyses need to incorporate the fact that God loves us, but that does not mean that we are going to be extracted from the environment of cause and effect where we exist. But we need to remember the well-known words of Psalm 23..even though I pass through the valley……..I will fear no evil..etc. Thus, our faith in God’s love will give us assurance and comfort, no matter the vicissitudes we might encounter in our journey.