Rethinking the Dates for the New Testament Books (Part 2)

Continuing from last week’s post, today I’m going to look at Jonathan Bernier’s basic arguments in his book Rethinking the Dates of the New Testament regarding the dating of the Gospel of John and the Book of Revelation.

The Gospel of John
The traditional dating of the Gospel of John puts the book at somewhere in the late first century, probably in the 90s. Bernier argues, though, that the Gospel of John was written sometime in the 60s, in the decade leading up to the Jewish War of AD 66-70. Bernier’s major points regarding this change of date can be boiled down to the following items:

(1) John 21:18-19 seems to anticipate Peter’s violent death. For context, Jesus has just asked Peter three times if he loves him. After that, Jesus says, “’Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you used to dress yourself and walk wherever you wanted, but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go.’ (This he said to show by what kind of death he was to glorify God.) And after saying this he said to him, ‘Follow me.’”

To the point, I do not find this argument too convincing. First of all, of course Jesus “anticipates” Peter’s violent death. It doesn’t matter if the Gospel of John was written in either the 60s or the 90s. In the context of the disciples’ encounters with the resurrected Jesus in AD 30, when Jesus said this, he was “anticipating” Peter’s death. If anything, the parenthetical note by the author John indicates that Peter’s death had happened…and John was telling his readers that Jesus had told Peter “back then” that he should expect to die a violent death…that, by the time John had written his Gospel, had happened.

(2) John 9:18-23, 12:42, and 16:2 mention followers of Jesus being “kicked out from the synagogue.” Traditionally, scholars point to the Birkat Haminim (Benediction against Heretics), which is part of the Jewish rabbinical liturgy that is dated to at some point during the Second Temple period. It reads: “For the apostates, let there be no hope, and uproot the kingdom of arrogance, speedily and in our days.
May the Nazarenes,  and the sectarians perish as in a moment. Let them be blotted out of the Book of Life, and not be written together with the righteous. You are praised, O Lord, who subdues the arrogant.”

The argument is that this rabbinic prayer probably post-dates the Jewish War and destruction of the Temple in AD 70 and reflects the irrevocable split between Jews and Christians. Before the Jewish War, the “Nazarenes” (i.e. Jewish followers of Christ) were still seen as part of Second Temple Judaism. But after the Jewish War, they were considered apostate and heretics—hence the rabbinical prayer in the liturgy. When it comes to the Gospel of John, therefore, it is argued that Jewish followers of Jesus in AD 30 would not have been “kicked out of the synagogue.” That kind of thing only happened after the Jewish War. Therefore, the Gospel of John was probably written after the Jewish War. Bernier points out, though, that some scholars (like Joel Marcus) question that reasoning and argue that such a sentiment (and practice) regarding the expulsion of the “Nazarenes” from the synagogue very well could have pre-dated the Jewish War. If that is the case, then it is possible that the Gospel of John pre-dated the Jewish War as well.

This argument is more convincing than the first argument. The argument that there is no way Jewish followers of Christ would have been kicked out of synagogues before the Jewish War seems to be quite a stretch, given that we see time and time again throughout the New Testament examples of Jewish followers of Christ before AD 70 being persecuted and beaten by their fellow Jews. Paul was literally run out of countless synagogues during his missionary journeys. It is quite clear that even before the Jewish War of AD 66-70, Jewish followers of Christ were often persecuted and attacked by their fellow Jews. Perhaps the phrase “put out of the synagogue” wasn’t formalized until later in the first century with the Birkat Haminim, but that doesn’t automatically negate the possibility that sort of thing wasn’t happening to Jewish followers of Jesus from the beginning.

(3) John 2:19-22, where Jesus speaks of “destroying this Temple” and then “raising it up in three days.” John explicitly states Jesus was talking about “the temple of his body” and that the disciples remembered what he said in John 2:19-22 after he rose from the dead. Bernier suggests that maybe Jesus did prophesy the destruction and reconstruction of the actual Temple, but that when the Temple never was reconstructed after AD 70, Jesus’ disciples reinterpreted the prophecy as referring to his resurrection. But then again, he could have prophesied the Temple’s destruction and reconstruction, and at some point before AD 70, “early Christians came to believe that he was referring to the events of the first Easter” (97).

That is a whole lot of speculation. For starters, in the Synoptics, it is quite clear that Jesus prophesied the destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem, and there is no hint that he ever prophesied that it would be reconstructed. So, to suggest that in the Gospel of John he prophesied the destruction and reconstruction of the Temple, but then, when that didn’t pan out after AD 70, the disciples reinterpreted it to mean just his resurrection…OR they just reinterpreted the prophecy to mean his own body and resurrection during the tumultuous few years right before the Jewish War where the Temple was destroyed—I’m sorry, that makes no sense.

Now, it is strange that Jesus’ elaborate prophecy of the Temple’s destruction in the Olivet Discourse (Mark 13, Matthew 24, Luke 21) is nowhere in the Gospel of John. Instead, there is this brief prophecy in John 2 in which we are told he was talking about his own body and resurrection. What makes it stranger is that Jesus’ Temple action in John 2 happens at the beginning of his ministry, whereas his Temple action in the Synoptics takes place during the Passion week, only days before his arrest and crucifixion. In John, once Jesus comes into Jerusalem during the Passion week, even though he teaches in the Temple and confronts “the Jews” there, there is no Temple action or any talk of prophesying the Temple’s destruction.

All that brings up other questions, but as to the argument that John 2:19-22 indicates a pre-AD 70 date for the composition of the Gospel of John, Bernier’s argument isn’t convincing. I’m still inclined to think the Gospel of John is a post-AD 70 composition.

(4) That being said, Bernier does make a decent counterpoint to scholars who claim that since John displays a “high Christology,” that that indicates an evolution of theology within first century Christianity from the “low Christology” of Mark, for example, to the later “high Christology” of John. Bernier points to the clear “high Christology” found within Paul’s letters (which dated to the 50s-60s) and validly argues that if Paul can confirm a high Christology within the first generation of the early Church, then that blows a hole in the argument that John’s Gospel must be a later composition, simply because it contains “high Christology.”

Although that is true, a valid pushback can say, “Still, just look at the extent of the high Christology directly coming out of Jesus’ mouth in John’s Gospel.” That really is striking and raises questions. All in all, I’m not convinced of Bernier’s arguments for a pre-AD 70 date for John’s Gospel.

The Book of Revelation
Traditionally, Revelation is dated to somewhere in the mid-90s, during the reign of Domitian. Bernier, though, argues that it should be dated to AD 68-70, smack dab in the middle of the Jewish War of AD 66-70.  His more common points are as follows:

(1) The reference in Revelation 17 to the “seven mountains” and “seven horns.” It is universally acknowledged that the “seven mountains” is a reference to Rome. There is a question, though, regarding the “seven kings” of which the “seven horns” represent. In Revelation 17:10, John is told that five kings have fallen, one is, and one is yet to come. Bernier argues that if we start with Julius Caesar, that Nero would then be the current “sixth king.” This would relate to the number of the beast (Revelation 13:18) being “666”—the numeric value of the name “Nero Caesar.” This “beast” was wounded and thought to be dead, but had recovered. There was a questioned after Nero’s death in AD 68 if he was, in fact, really dead. There was a fear that he had escaped to the east and would eventually return—this is known as the Nero Redivivus Legend.

All this is to say that Bernier argues all this refers to Nero, and therefore, it could be dated back to AD 68 (admittedly at the earliest). Yes, all that is possible. It is something I’ve often contemplated.

(2) Bernier also discusses Revelation 11:1-13, specifically John being told to measure the Temple in Jerusalem, and then the subsequent declaration that 1/10 of the city fell. Bernier argues that since John is told to measure the Temple, that would suggest that the Temple was still standing—and this would place the composition of Revelation before AD 70. On top of that, Bernier says that in AD 70, the entire city of Jerusalem and the Temple was completely destroyed, not just 1/10 of it. Therefore, if Revelation was written after AD 70, the description of the devastation being only 1/10 of the city would be a massive understatement. On top of that, the city was destroyed by Roman soldiers, not an earthquake. He writes, “It is difficult to imagine that an author writing after 70 would employ the fall of Jerusalem for symbolic effect and yet grossly misrepresent the nature of that fall and, more to the point, underestimate its extent” (122).

There is no other way to say it: this line of reasoning is nonsensical. It seems that Bernier doesn’t realize just what apocalyptic is. To read it all with a straight literalism is bizarre. John is not saying that Jerusalem will suffer a literal earthquake (as opposed to being attacked by soldiers). For that matter, it’s not even clear that Revelation 11 is about the literal destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70 anyway. The larger context of Revelation 11 (with the city being called “Sodom” and “Egypt,” and then having people from every tribe and nation celebrate the death of the two witnesses) screams that this is not an account of the literal events in AD 70. There is a lot of complicated and confusing stuff going on in Revelation 11—that it a topic too big for this post. But my point is simple: Bernier’s argument that Revelation 11 gives us any information regarding the dating of Revelation simply doesn’t fly.

(3) Bernier also argues that the concern in Revelation 2 with whether or not Christians should eat food sacrificed to idols indicates an early date for Revelation. He argues that it was in the 40s-50s when this was an issue. Well, although it was an issue at that time, it was also an issue after that as well—you even get mention of this issue in some early Church Fathers. Needless to say, I fail to see how this argument is convincing. Saying “eating food sacrificed to idols was an issue for Christians in the 40s-50s, therefore Revelation was written between 68-70” is an odd argument.

(4) Finally, Bernier addresses the fact that the early Church Father Irenaeus (AD 130-202) wrote that John wrote Revelation during Domitian’s reign. That would mean Revelation could not have been written any earlier than AD 81. Bernier simply rejects that though and says that the “internal data” (i.e. the arguments he puts forth) favors a date between AD 68-70. I simply disagree.

All that said, the question of the dating of Revelation is tricky. On one hand, we have Irenaeus’ clear claim. In addition, I would argue that there are a number of things within Revelation that indicate it was written during the reign of Domitian (80s-90s). That being said, there really are clear connections with Nero (60s). To my mind, nothing will ever be conclusive. Perhaps there was an earlier version written during shortly after Nero’s death, but then it got a make-over during Domitian’s reign—who knows? Ultimately, I don’t think it matters, for the nature of apocalyptic literature is that it pulls the curtain of history back so we can get a glimpse of what is happening “behind the scenes” and understand the divine reality and plan that is playing out within history. Revelation is applicable to at time in history when Christians are being persecuted by a ruler who is “setting himself up as god.” As it stands, attempts to pin down a conclusive date for the writing of Revelation is, well, inconclusive. It can be applied to the Christian’s situation in the build-up to AD 70; it can also be applied to the Christian persecution under Domitian.

Well, it looks like I might need one more post to get through the rest of Bernier’s book.