The second farewell discourse runs most closely parallel to the first precisely where it is most properly a “farewell” (i.e., where it addresses directly the question of Jesus’ impending departure; cf. 13:33). Here, inevitably, is also where the differences between the two discourses become most noticeable. Whereas the first discourse was largely structured around a series of questions by various disciples, here the question-and-answer method seems to be consciously abandoned. The earlier discourse began with Peter’s “Lord, where are you going?” in 13:36, but here Jesus makes the specific statement that none of you asks me “Where are you going?” (v. 5b). The reference is not simply to questions but to the specific question that touched off the whole discourse comprising 13:36–14:31. It is as if Jesus shows awareness of 13:36 but makes a conscious effort to do things differently. Such a development from “questions” to “no questions” might be appropriate if it made the point that now the questions were answered and no further inquiry was necessary. But the point is not that the disciples have no need to ask (because they know) but that they are too overcome with sorrow to put into words the question uppermost in their minds. They are no more knowledgeable here than in chapter 14. If anything, they are more confused and upset. The this that causes their grief (v. 6) is best understood, not as the announcement that Jesus is going away (which he has so far made only in passing in v. 5a), but as the whole discourse up to this point, especially 15:18–16:3. The announcement of Jesus’ departure also disturbs them, though primarily in light of what has just preceded it; it means they will have to face the world’s hatred alone.
The abandonment of the question-and-answer form in verse 5b has the immediate function of accenting how overcome the disciples are with sorrow. But later, when the same emphasis on “no questions” appears again under somewhat happier circumstances (vv. 23, 30), it suggests that another motivation may also be at work. The change in form serves to make the theological point that the initiative in revelation lies not with believers but with Jesus. The literary technique of using questions to solicit divine revelation was a familiar one in Jewish and Christian apocalyptic literature and in Gnostic writings. John’s Gospel itself makes use of questions (or statements) based on misunderstanding as a foil for Jesus’ self-disclosure (cf., e.g., 3:4; 4:11, 15, 33; 6:34; 7:35–36; 8:22; 11:12; 13:9). This is characteristic as well of the questions in the first farewell discourse, and even in the present situation the disciples are similarly puzzled as they ask each other what Jesus means by a little while (vv. 17–18). Here Jesus knows their question before they ask it and takes the initiative in granting them an answer (vv. 20–22). The attitude taken toward questions as an aid to revelation in this chapter is articulated a half century later in the Shepherd of Hermas, an edifying Christian narrative of a series of visions originating in the church at Rome. True prophecy (i.e., a “spirit which is given from God”) is distinguished from false prophecy by the fact that it is not “asked questions” or consulted like an oracle. A spirit that is consulted speaks on human initiative and is therefore earthly and powerless (Hermas, Mandates 11.5–6). It is perhaps for a similar reason that Jesus is depicted throughout this chapter as one who takes the initiative in revelation—not only at the beginning, when the disciples are too troubled to give voice to their anxieties, but at the end (v. 30), when they acknowledge explicitly that Jesus knows everything and has no need to be questioned because he has made all things clear.
These differences between the first discourse and the second should not be exaggerated. Obviously the disciples still have questions (essentially the same questions as before), and Jesus still provides the answers. And even in the first discourse, the initiative lay in a sense with Jesus because each of the four questions was triggered by a previous statement of his. What happens in the second discourse is simply that the monologue form, which in the first farewell discourse became dominant only in the summary (14:25–31), is made the vehicle for the whole discourse. And along with the form of 14:25–31, its concern about an impending crisis reappears as well from 15:18 on and is made ever more explicit.
Jesus’ answer to the question of his departure does not differ in its general outline from that found in chapter 14. It includes promises of the Counselor (vv. 7–15), of renewed fellowship between the disciples and Jesus (vv. 16–22), and of answered prayer (vv. 23–24, 26). The most conspicuous difference is that the Counselor’s ministry has to do with the world (vv. 8–11) as well as believers (vv. 12–15). In chapter 14 the Counselor was to speak only to the disciples, for the world could neither accept nor recognize him (14:17). In 15:26–27, however, the Counselor gives testimony about Jesus, and the disciples are regarded not merely as recipients of this testimony but as instruments or co-workers of the Spirit in presenting it. The same is true in 16:8–11; though the Counselor will be sent to you (the disciples, v. 7) his mission is to convict the world of guilt in regard to sin and righteousness and judgment (v. 8). This the Spirit will do, not by some inward testimony in the hearts of the people of the world, but by the outward testimony of words spoken by Jesus’ disciples in the course of their mission (cf. 15:27).
Verses 8–11 summarize the content of this testimony; they are perhaps the nearest thing we have to a distinctly Johannine formulation of the basic Christian message as first proclaimed to unbelievers. The summary is in three parts, each part defining a single key concept: sin, justice, judgment. The definitions are thoroughly characteristic of John’s Gospel yet at the same time consistent with the understanding of these same three concepts in the earliest examples of the Christian proclamation in the book of Acts. Sin is defined not as breaking a set of laws but as rejecting Jesus (v. 9; cf. Acts 2:23; 3:13–15). “Justice,” or righteousness, is defined not as obeying a set of laws but as divine vindication, the raising of Jesus Christ from the dead (cf. Acts 2:24, 36; 3:15); the Johannine way of putting it is, I am going to the Father, where you can see me no longer (v. 10). Only judgment is understood somewhat differently than in the sermons of Acts (where it is characteristically future, Acts 10:42; 17:31). Judgment is identified here, as elsewhere in this Gospel (5:29 being the only exception), with Jesus’ victory over Satan, especially in his Passion (12:31; cf. 14:30; in the Synoptics, cf. Mark 3:23–27). Because the Passion is almost upon him, Jesus can claim that the world’s evil ruler now stands judged (v. 11; cf., “now” in 12:31).
What is this world that the Counselor and the disciples will confront? Is it the world of the Jews or of the Gentiles? The preceding references to expulsion from synagogues and to violent persecution as a religious duty (v. 2) suggest that a mission to Judaism is primarily in view, and this is supported by the three definitions in verses 8–11. The Jewish antagonists to the church would know about sin, justice, and judgment, but the definitions would be new to them: Sin is rejecting Jesus; justice is what God has done for Jesus; judgment is what Jesus has accomplished already by his death. The message of verses 8–11 amounts to a Christian redefinition of all that was of vital concern to the Jews. Yet the same message will confront the pagan world as well (cf. 18:33–38). Paul’s confrontation with the Roman governor Felix aptly illustrates these verses; when Paul spoke to this pagan official and his Jewish wife about “righteousness [i.e., “justice”], self-control and the judgment to come” (Acts 24:25), the governor was afraid and told Paul to leave.
Nowhere is it made plainer than in the present chapter that the Christian message is forever on a collision course with the world, whether of Jew or Gentile. The greater the willingness to acknowledge the world’s reality and to recognize concretely what it means for Christians to live there, the greater the possibility of a negative or even hostile view of the world. In chapter 14, the disciples and the world moved, for the most part, on tracks that never met, but in chapters 15–17 they do meet and come into conflict, even though Jesus traces only faintly the precise contours of that conflict. I have much more to say to you, he says to his disciples, more than you can now bear (v. 12). He leaves it to the Spirit to spell out more clearly what is yet to come (v. 13), that is, the nature of the disciples’ mission and the world’s opposition to it, and the final outcome of all their efforts. Jesus takes this opportunity to make the most sweeping statements about the Spirit’s ministry to be found anywhere in the discourses. The Spirit of truth will lead the disciples into all truth (v. 13). Such a phrase, taken out of context, could refer to all the philosophical and scientific truth of the universe, but here Jesus focuses specifically on truth that he says is mine. Jesus can speak of his truth as all truth because all that belongs to the Father is mine (v. 15; cf. 17:10). Everything the Spirit reveals comes from the Father and therefore from Jesus. The accent is not on what human beings can learn anyway by rational inquiry or by the use of their five senses but on the much more (v. 12) that Jesus would like to tell the disciples, but cannot, about their life and mission in the world. The teaching ministry of the Spirit builds on and develops the teaching ministry of Jesus himself. By making explicit what in Jesus’ historical teaching was only implicit, the Spirit will prepare the disciples to face new enemies and seize new opportunities to extend Jesus’ mission in the world. The implication is that the Spirit has done so precisely in this Gospel and in these last discourses.
The long monologue is briefly interrupted by a question (vv. 17–18), not a question directed at Jesus, but one that the disciples asked one another. The question is triggered by a kind of riddle (v. 16) built around the phrase a little while and reminiscent of the departure saying in 13:33 that had triggered the first farewell discourse (cf. 14:19). Here the phrase a little while (Gr.: mikron) occurs twice, and the disciples are confused. Jesus in his explanation moves from riddle (vv. 16, 19) to parable (vv. 20–21) to plain speech (vv. 22–28).
In resolving the problem raised by Jesus’ statement in 13:33, chapter 14 had spoken of a single brief interval. “Before long” the world would not see Jesus, but the disciples would see him (14:19). In chapter 16 his absence is acknowledged even as far as the disciples are concerned (in a little while you will see me no more, v. 16a; cf. v. 10, you can see me no longer). But the absence is only temporary, because after a second brief interval the disciples will see him again (and then after a little while you will see me, v. 16b). In the first discourse, faith and unbelief perceived reality differently; here they perceive it in the same way but make different value judgments about what they see. The reality is the departure of Jesus from the world; at this, the disciples will weep and mourn while the world rejoices (v. 20). Jesus then introduces a parable about a woman in labor to dramatize the point that the disciples’ sadness will later give way to joy (v. 21). The reversal implied by this imagery seems at first to demand that at the moment when the disciples’ sadness turns to joy, the world’s joy turns bitter. The metaphor of birth pangs (cf. 1 Thess. 5:3), as well as such distinctly eschatological terms as that day (vv. 23, 26) and the word used for anguish (or “suffering”; Gr.: thlipsis, v. 21), suggest a revelation that is visible both to the world and the church, and one that puts the world decisively to shame—a kind of culmination of the Spirit’s ministry as described in verses 8–11. All of these factors support the notion that the first little while of verse 16 refers to Jesus’ physical departure from this world in death, and the second, to his visible return to earth at this Second Coming (or Parousia, as many early Christians called it).
The first little while is the short time that remains before Jesus’ death. The second is the whole age of the church and of the church’s mission. This is the period of Jesus’ absence, a time of grief and anguish. The time of joy is that future time, after Jesus’ return, when faith becomes sight. The pattern is clear enough; the designation of the whole age of the church as only a little while is perfectly consistent with the early Christian conviction that it “is the last hour” (1 John 2:18; cf. James 5:8; 1 Pet. 4:7; Rev. 1:1, 3; 22:6, 10).
But there is a difficulty with this pattern. In verses 23–24 Jesus makes specific statements and gives specific instructions about the practice of prayer in that day of gladness, after the disciples have seen Jesus again. These statements, especially the invitation, ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete (v. 24b), are appropriate to the time of the church’s mission but inappropriate to the time of consummation, after Jesus’ Second Coming. They are commands that the author and his readers would naturally understand as directed to them, in their own time and situation (cf. 14:13–14; 15:7, 16). The completion of their joy corresponds to what Jesus prays for in 17:13. Nor can this gladness be differentiated from that mentioned in verses 20–22. Verses 23–24, and therefore verse 22 as well, belong wholly to what the Gospel writer regards as present experience, not to some transformed future state of bliss.
The first little while is again the short time remaining before Jesus’ death. The second is the two or three days between the crucifixion and Easter morning, when Jesus is in the tomb. The two intervals are about equal in length, and both are literally short. The time of joy is that time of renewed fellowship with Jesus after his resurrection (cf. 20:20, “The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord”), a time signaling for them a continuing relationship with Jesus in the Spirit until their mission in the world is complete (cf. 14:18–20). The time of the disciples’ mission is viewed here not as suffering and estrangement from Jesus but as joy and a more intimate union with him than was possible during his lifetime on earth (cf. 14:20). It is the time when Jesus’ promise of answered prayer goes into effect because Jesus is with the Father (v. 24, Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive; cf. 14:12–14).
Surely this second paradigm is more “Johannine” than the first. Despite all that has been said about betrayal and persecution, the author is conscious of living in an age of joy and not sadness. He writes as one for whom Jesus is present and not absent: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (1:5, NIV margin). Jesus’ next-to-last pronouncement in chapter 16 is In this world you will have trouble, but his very last word is But take heart! I have overcome the world (v. 33). It is likely that both the riddle of verse 16 and the parable of verse 21 were sayings of Jesus remembered by his disciples after his resurrection and subject to either of two interpretations, depending on the circumstances of the interpreters. A suffering or oppressed church might well read it according to the first paradigm; a church rejoicing in worship, with a strong consciousness of the presence of Christ in the Spirit, would be more likely to read it according to the second. John is sensitive to the first, so sensitive in fact as to be ambiguous, but it is the second paradigm that finally represents his own interpretation of Jesus’ pronouncements. Though Jesus will one day come again for all the world to see and will raise the dead from their graves (5:28–29; cf. 14:3), this is not the “second coming” that matters most in John’s Gospel. The emphasis rather is on Jesus’ reunion with his disciples by virtue of his own resurrection from the dead (cf. 20:19–23) and his continuing presence with them in their mission through the ministry of the Counselor. Transcending the sadness of persecution and betrayal, Jesus confers a joy that no one will take away (v. 22).
A conspicuous feature of this postresurrection period is free and open communication between God and his children. One side of this is, of course, the privilege of asking in Jesus’ name, with the promise that all such prayers will be answered (vv. 23b–24, 26). But intertwined with the promise of answered prayer is the promise of revelation (vv. 23a [see note], 25, 29–30). If the disciples are able to speak freely to God in prayer, God will also be able—and willing—to speak freely to them. Though the Spirit is not mentioned here explicitly, Jesus anticipates that he will speak to his disciples plainly about my Father (v. 25) through the Counselor, or Spirit of truth (cf. 15:26; 16:7). He anticipates that after his departure—and because of it—the veil will be drawn aside, and things now puzzling to the disciples will be made clear. He has much more to say (v. 12), and he will say it all, through the Spirit, in due time.
In verse 25, Jesus makes a distinction between speaking figuratively, the mode of his revelation in the present, and speaking plainly when the time for full revelation comes. The figurative speech can refer only to the riddle of verse 16, the parable about the woman in labor in verse 21, and perhaps to the metaphor of the vine in 15:1–17. To characterize the whole discourse as speaking figuratively is an exaggeration, to about the same degree as the statement in Mark 4:34 that Jesus would not speak to the people “without using a parable.” No sooner is the distinction between “figures of speech” and plain speech out of Jesus’ mouth than he begins to speak as plainly as it is possible for anyone to do! (vv. 27–28; esp. v. 28: I came from the Father and entered the world; now I am leaving the world and going back to the Father). The disciples immediately recognize this open revelation for what it is: Now you are speaking clearly and without figures of speech. Now we can see that you know all things and that you do not even need to have anyone ask you questions. This makes us believe that you came from God (vv. 29–30).
The decisive interjection by the disciples breaks the long monologue; for the first time in the entire second discourse, the disciples speak to Jesus directly. They are no longer afraid to ask questions, but now they have no need for questions, and they know it, because Jesus is the perfect Revealer. The key to this dramatic exchange is the expression, a time is coming, and has come, which Jesus had used on two earlier occasions to highlight certain pronouncements (4:23; 5:25), and which he will use almost immediately again (v. 32). In the present instance, Jesus allows the disciples to finish the expression for him: He promises in verse 25 that a time is coming for speaking plainly, and the disciples respond in verse 29 that the time is now. Their observation that Jesus already speaks plainly is quite accurate, and their acknowledgment that he comes from God (v. 30) confirms what he had just said they believed (v. 27). The text offers no clue that the conclusion now reached by the disciples is in any way misguided or premature. It is likely that their words, no less than the preceding words of Jesus, serve as a vehicle for the narrator’s own perspective on the events he describes. This perspective is that the future Jesus speaks of in verses 22–26 has already broken in upon the present. The future is now; the free and open revelation characteristic of the age of the Spirit is already at work, not in a series of events or experiences subsequent to the Gospel story, but in the text of the Gospel itself: To Jesus, a time is coming, but to the narrator and his readers, it already has come.
The disciples’ confession that Jesus came from God (v. 30) is seldom counted among the great confessions of the fourth Gospel (e.g., 1:29, 34, 49; 6:69; 11:27; 20:28) for several reasons: (1) It is attributed to the disciples as a group rather than one particular disciple (no individual disciples, in fact, are ever named anywhere in this second farewell discourse); (2) it employs no memorable christological title such as “Son of God,” “Messiah,” or “Lord”; (3) it is anticlimactic after Jesus’ statement in verse 27 that the disciples have believed that I came from God; and (4) its force seems blunted by Jesus’ skeptical-sounding reply (v. 31) and his immediate prediction that the disciples will be scattered, each to his own home. You will leave me all alone (v. 32). But over against all these considerations stands the stubborn fact that the great prayer of chapter 17 is firmly built on this confession (e.g., 17:8: “They knew with certainty that I came from you, and they believed that you sent me”). More than anything else, the disciples’ explicit acknowledgment in verse 30 that Jesus has come from God is what occasions the long prayer and, specifically, the commendation of the disciples in 17:6–8. It provides a positive setting for the prayer in that it signals to Jesus that his work is finished (17:4). The group of followers that his Father has given him is now ready to continue his mission in the world.
Negatively, the setting of the prayer is the ominous prediction that the disciples will be scattered (v. 32) and will desert Jesus in his time of need (cf. Mark 14:27/Matt. 26:31). Where the first discourse had glanced momentarily at Peter’s individual “scandal” of denying his Lord (13:38), the second (as always) deals with the disciples as a group, focusing on the embarrassing truth that all of them fled for their lives at Jesus’ arrest (cf. Mark 14:50/Matt. 26:56). If verse 30 is a moment of great insight for the disciples, verse 32 reveals their coming moment of abject failure. The thought of verses 29–33 swings back and forth like a pendulum between positive and negative poles. The disciples believe (vv. 29–30), but they will be scattered and Jesus will be alone (vv. 31–32); but he is not really alone; the Father is with him, and in him they have peace (vv. 32–33); but the world will make them suffer (v. 33), but Jesus has defeated the world (v. 33). The farewell prayer of chapter 17 rises out of this patchwork. If those for whom Jesus prays are those whom the Father has given him out of the world (17:6, 9), they are also those who are scattered in the world (v. 32). The famous prayer for unity (17:11, 21, 23) is first of all a prayer for the dispersed, “the scattered people of God, to bring them together and make them one” (11:52). If the prayer of chapter 17 celebrates the confession of verse 30, it also aims at overcoming the failure and frustration intimated in verse 32. In the immediate sense, the dispersed are the eleven disciples who deserted Jesus on the occasion of his arrest, but in the narrator’s larger perspective, they are Jesus’ followers even in subsequent generations (cf. 17:20) who find themselves scattered and vulnerable in a hostile world, cut off from each other and seemingly cut off from their Lord. For them, Jesus prays “that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you” (17:21).
Chapter 16 affords yet one more clue about the prayer in chapter 17: It is to be Jesus’ last prayer for his disciples, not only because he is leaving the world, but because his return to the Father makes possible for the believer a new relationship to God in prayer. To pray to the Father in Jesus’ name (vv. 23, 24, 26) is to have direct access to the Father. Jesus will not be a sort of go-between who takes the disciples’ requests and presents them to the Father (v. 26). He does not see his role with the Father as that of a heavenly intercessor. Even though there is NT testimony elsewhere that the risen Jesus “always lives to intercede” for believers (Heb. 7:25), Jesus’ interest here is not in his own future high priestly role but in assuring his troubled disciples that the Father himself loves you (v. 27). Because of what Jesus has done, they will be able to approach God directly in prayer, and their loving Father will hear and answer them. But now, for one last time before he departs, Jesus will pray to the Father on their behalf. Christian tradition for the last two centuries has referred to John 17 as Jesus’ “high-priestly” prayer. The designation is apt, if it is kept in mind that Jesus is not seen here as the heavenly high priest already at God’s right hand interceding for his church, but rather as the Christ of Calvary, poised between earth and heaven. The prayer is part of the once-and-for-all priestly work by which Jesus consecrates himself to death and his redeemed followers to their world mission (cf. 17:17, 19).
Additional Notes
16:4b Because I was with you: Jesus’ language implies that in a certain sense he is no longer with his disciples, for he is already on his way to the Father (cf. v. 5: “Now I am going”). The impression of distance is stronger in chapter 17, where consistently Jesus speaks of the disciples in the past tense (e.g., 17:12, “While I was with them”; cf. 17:11, “I will remain in the world no longer … and I am coming to you”). In Luke, it is the risen Jesus who speaks this way (Luke 24:44). In John’s Gospel, at first (lit., “the beginning”) when Jesus was with his disciples probably refers to the time of his public ministry (chapters 2–12), before he began to speak explicitly of his departure or death.
16:8 He will convict. The verb convict goes appropriately with sin (in Greek as in English) but not so appropriately with “justice” and judgment. Jesus is represented here as expanding the familiar expression “convict of sin” (cf. 8:46) into a three-part pronouncement.
16:10 You can see me no longer. Because it is the “people of the world” who are being proved wrong, the reader expects “they will not see me” (cf. 14:19!), but you is chosen instead in order to anticipate the “you” of v. 16. That v. 10 is still in mind in vv. 16–22 is shown by the disciples’ puzzled reference in v. 17 to the clause, because I am going to the Father, which has occurred only in v. 10.
16:22 I will see you again. The form of the saying in v. 16 leads one to expect “you will see me again,” but Jesus’ promise emphasizes once again his own initiative in self-revelation.
16:23 You will no longer ask me anything: lit., “you will not ask me anything.” The word for ask (Gr.: erōtesete) can mean either to ask questions or to make a request. By itself, the statement refers more naturally to the asking of questions: The disciples will not have to ask Jesus any questions because he reveals everything freely (cf. v. 30). “No longer” is incorrect because of its implication that now they were asking him questions. They were not (vv. 5, 19).
My Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. A different word for ask is used (Gr: aitēsēte), with the meaning “make a request,” or “pray.” The use of ask for both verbs in the NIV conceals a shift from “asking questions” in v. 23a to “asking in prayer” in v. 23b. The latter continues as the theme of v. 24. Thus the twin themes of open revelation and open prayer are introduced in vv. 23a and 23b–24 respectively (separated by the solemn formula I tell you the truth), and then developed more fully in vv. 25–30 (revelation, in vv. 25, 29–30; prayer, in vv. 26–27).
16:26 Ask the Father on your behalf: Here, in distinction from verses 23a and 30, the Greek verb erōtan means to make request or pray. This is because it is followed by the preposition peri (“for” or “concerning”); the same construction is used, e.g., in 17:9: “I pray for them. I am not praying for the world.”
16:31 You believe at last! These words can be taken either as a glad exclamation (as here) or as a skeptical question: “Do you now believe?” (NIV margin). Because the context indicates that the disciples’ faith is genuine (even though qualified by the prediction of v. 32), the exclamation is the better translation.
16:32 I am not alone. The prediction that the disciples will leave Jesus all alone at his arrest is immediately corrected in light of the principle (laid down in 8:16 and 29) that Jesus is never alone because the Father is always with him.
