John 14:27-29

“ Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you; not as the world gives, do I give it to you; let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. 28. You have heard how I said to you, I go away, and come to you. If you loved me, you would have rejoiced because I go to the Father; for my Father is greater than I. 29. And now I have told you these things before they come to pass, that when they have come to pass, you may believe. ”

The promise of John 14:25-26 had as its aim to tranquillize the disciples in relation to the obscurities which still hovered over their Master's future and their own. John 14:27-29 tend to reassure them with reference to the dangers to which they see themselves exposed in this future which is opening before them. Jesus evidently alludes to the Israelite salutation: Peace be unto thee (Schalom leka)! Meyer and Reuss take the word εἰρήνη in an objective sense: salvation (שָׁלוֹם, H8934, full prosperity). But the adjective “ my peace” and the end of the verse where the question is of causing trouble to cease, should have prevented this false interpretation. On leaving them, Jesus would make them enjoy a perfect inward quietness, such as that which they behold in Himself. This peace arises in Him, in the presence of death, from His absolute confidence in the love of the Father. This confidence it is which He wishes to inspire in them, and by means of which His peace will become theirs. This is the legacy which He gives them (ἀφίημι, I leave), and this legacy He draws from His own treasury: my peaee.

The verb δίδωμι, I give, is in connection with τὴν ἐμήν (mine): one gives of his own. In Luke 10:5-6, Jesus confers on His disciples the power which He exercises here Himself: that of imparting their peace. The contrast between the peace of Jesus and that of the world is ordinarily referred to the nature of the two: the peace of the world consisting in the enjoyment of blessings which are only such in appearance; that of Jesus in the possession of real and imperishable blessings. Luthardt and Keil find here another contrast: that between true and false peace. But it follows from the omission of the object: peace, in the second clause (“ I do not give as the world gives ”), and from the conjunction καθώς (according as), that the contrast relates rather to the act of giving than to the object of the gift: “When I give, it is really giving, it is giving with efficacy, while, when the world says farewell to you in the ordinary form: Peace be unto you! it gives you only empty words, a powerless wish.” I cannot understand wherein this sense is below the seriousness of the situation, as Meyer claims. This peace, which He communicates to them by this very word, should banish from their hearts the trouble which Jesus observes there still (μὴ ταρασσέσθω), and preserve them, even by this means, from the danger of being afraid (δειλιᾷν), which would result from this troubled state.

But it is not enough for Jesus to see them reassured, strengthened; He would even see them joyous (John 14:28). And they would really be so, if they well understood the meaning of this departure which is approaching. The ἠκούσατε, you have heard, refers to John 14:2; John 14:12; John 14:18; the quotation, as so often, is made freely.

Jesus adds: and I come, because without this He could not ask them to find in His departure a subject of joy. The words: “ If you loved me,” signify here: If you loved Me in an entirely disinterested way, loving Me for Myself, and not for yourselves. These words are of an exquisite delicacy. Jesus thereby finds the means of making joy on their part a duty of affection. He turns their attention to the approaching exaltation of His position (comp. John 13:3; John 13:31-32); and what true friend would not rejoice to see his friend raised to a state more worthy of him? Jesus does not here give expression to the idea of the more powerful activity of which this exaltation will be for Him the means (John 17:12). He appeals only to their friendly hearts.

We must reject, with the Alexandrian authorities, the word εἶπον (the second) and read: because I go away, and not: “because I said to you, I go away.”

The reason why they should rejoice for Him on account of this change is that His Father is greater than He. In returning to God, therefore, He is going to find again a form of existence more free, more exalted, more blessed. Jesus felt the burden of the earthly existence, while patiently bearing it. Did He not say: “How long shall I be with you? How long shall I bear with you?” (Luke 9:41.) His surrendering of divine existence, His acceptance of human existence was for Him an ordeal which was to cease through His exaltation to the presence of God; comp. the πρὸς τὸν θεόν, John 1:1; John 1:18. The explanation of Lucke, de Wette, etc., “God will be a better protector for you than I could be by my visible presence,” ignores the natural meaning of the words and what there is of the personal element in this appeal to their affection: if you loved me.

Since the second century of the Church exegesis has understood in two different ways the explanation which follows respecting the relation between the Father and the Son (see Westcott's excellent dissertation). Some have understood: “greater than the Logos as such,” inasmuch as the Father is very naturally superior to the Son, while others have referred this superiority of the Father merely to the human nature of Jesus. This second explanation does not seem to me possible, in the first place because, if the state of the Son can change, His person, His ego, remains ever identical with itself; the subject who is speaking at this moment cannot, therefore, be any other than the one who speaks in passages such as John 8:58; John 17:5; John 17:24. Then, applied merely to the human nature of Jesus, as apart from His divine nature, these words become almost blasphemous, or at least ridiculous.

As Weiss says, “such a comparison between God and a created being would be a folly bordering upon blasphemy.” We have already recognized the fact, in studying the Prologue (John 1:1), that the Logos, as such, is subordinate to God. As Marius Victorinus said (365): “As having everything from the Father, He is inferior to Him, although, as having everything from Him, He is His equal.” Reuss has wrongly seen a disagreement between these words and the divinity of Christ, as it is taught in the Prologue (John 1:1). For even in the Prologue we find the notion of subordination expressly declared as it is here, and, on the other hand, our passage breathes, in Him who thus speaks, the most lively feeling of His participation in divinity. God alone can compare Himself with God, and the Arians, in seeking for a support in this text, have at least been guilty of unskilfulness. Here is certainly one of the passages by which the apostle was inspired in formulating his Prologue.