href="#ulink_cacff449-a9c3-5025-a63d-9719afb98db0">1. The date of the Gospel of John is important because “the dating . . . brings us to the question of the political ideology of the text” (Alexander, “Relevance,” 123).
2. Kümmel, Introduction, 246; Smalley, John, 82–84; Cassidy, John’s Gospel, 3; Brown, Introduction, 206–15; Keener, Gospel of John, 140–42; Lincoln, Gospel, 18.
3. Robinson, Cribbs, and Wallace propose an earlier date (in the late 50s or in the 60s) for the composition of the Gospel of John (Robinson, Redating, 254–311; Robinson, Priority, 67–93; Cribbs, “Reassessment,” 38–55; Wallace, “John 5,2,” 237–56). However, this view is not supported by many scholars (see Blomberg, Historical Reliability, 42–44). For example, the expulsion from the synagogue is not likely to have occurred much earlier than the eighties (Lincoln, Gospel, 18). Carson suggests tentatively a date in the early eighties (Carson, The Gospel, 82–86). However, supposing John knew the Synoptic Gospels, its date suggests an earliest date of 85 CE (Keener, Gospel of John, 140). In addition, because of the discovery of Papyrus Egerton 2 (P52, the two sides of a fragmentary leaf from a codex of the Gospel of John, written probably between 100 and 150, being the oldest known copy of any book of the New Testament) dates in the second century seem now to have lost their foundation (see Metzger, “Recently Published Greek Papyri,” 25–44, esp. 40; Keener, Gospel of John, 141–42; Carson, Gospel, 24, 82; Lincoln, Gospel, 17–18).
4. Domitianic persecution and the motif of ruler cult are important elements to date the Gospel of John to the reign of Domitian.
5. About the expulsion from the Synagogue, see Martyn, History and Theology; Brown, Gospel, xxxiv–xl, xcviii–cii; Brown, Introduction, 58–89; Meeks, Prophet-King; Meeks, “Man from Heaven,” 44–72; Lincoln, Gospel, 82–89; Kysar, “Community and Gospel,” 355–66; Smith, “Presentation of Jesus,” 367–78; Painter, “Farewell Discourses,” 525–43.
6. Many scholars follow Martyn’s view on the Johannine community (an attempt to reconstruct the historical context of the readers to whom the Gospel was first addressed). In this book, I also employ the term “the Johannine community” to develop my argument, because, in the textual level, we can reconstruct the Johannine community, which has a variety of backgrounds in the multicultural world, in conflict with other groups (on the reconstruction of the Johannine community as the ideal reader in the textual level, see chapter 5 of this book). However, it is impossible for us “to produce a portrait of the historical reader that is so complete that it guarantees the meaning of the text, and even as we gain some clarity about the first-century context we are still confronted with questions about how the text can speak to its twentieth-century readers in a compelling way” (Koester, “Spectrum,” 6). Accordingly, as Koester concludes, “The final form of the Gospel envisions a heterogeneous readership,” in other words, “the final form of the Gospel was shaped for a spectrum of readers” (Koester, “Spectrum,” 9, 19; see also Culpepper, Anatomy, 221, 225; Lincoln, Gospel, 88). I define, therefore, the Johannine community as the ideal reader, which had various origins and was in conflict with others in the text. In other words, in the presupposition that John bore in mind a variety of readers with a wide spectrum of origins, I contend that the Gospel of John was written to the Johannine community as the ideal/implied readers, which were marginal in the Empire (on the relationship between the implied readers and the Johannine community, see Segovia, “Journey(s),” 23–54, esp. 47–49; Sim, “Gospels,” 3–27).
Apart from the Johannine community theory, Bauchkam contends the circular reading of the Gospel (see Bauckham, “For Whom,” 9–48). Just as Robinson’s criticism on Martyn’s view as “highly imaginative” (Robinson, Redating, 272–75), while denying the reality of the Johannine community, Bauckham argues that the Gospel was written for wide circulation among its first century readers (“a very general Christian audience”). Barton also argues the impossibility of the reconstruction of the Johannine Community (Barton, “Christian Community,” 279–301). In terms of the written place of the Gospel, Cribbs also says that “different scholars can find sufficient evidence so as to argue that such diverse centers as Alexandria, Ephesus, Antioch, or Jerusalem were the locale in which this gospel originated, suggests to us that John was a ‘circular gospel’ written from an influential center of Christianity during a period of crisis in the life of the early church” (Cribbs, “Reassessment,” 55). In addition, Cassidy focuses on the final form of the Gospel, which was copied and circulated within the early Christian Community in the Roman Empire (See Cassidy, John’s Gospel, 1–5). However, it is hard to deny “Christian churches were . . . the primary intended readers of the Gospels. It is within the realms of possibility that any given Evangelist envisaged a broader readership, but these readers would have been very close to his own community in both geographical and theological terms” (Sim, “Gospels,” 27).
7. It is important to recognize that the Johannine community, i.e., the readers, lived under the Roman ruling power, which was harsh to the margins (see Rensberger, Johannine Faith, 15–36; Carter, John, 170–71). About the exercise of Roman power on the margins through a hierarchical social structure and economic, military, social, ideological, rhetorical, and judicial means, see Cassidy, John’s Gospel, 6–26; Cassidy, Christians and Roman Rule, 37–50; Carter, Matthew and Empire, 9–53; Lincoln, Gospel, 88–89; Lincoln, Truth on Trial, 265–307.
8. About the view of the imperial cult and Christian persecutions, see Price, Rituals and Power; Frend, Martyrdom and Persecution; Charlesworth, “Some Observations,” 26–42. Three emperors, Gaius, Nero, and Domitian, had been especially attracted to these practices (Cassidy, Christians and Roman Rule, 13).
9. It came from Augustus and his successors who were acclaimed as supra human (Cassidy, Christians and Roman Rule, 12). On the practice of emperor worship as a legitimate ancient religion and political phenomenon, see Price, Rituals and Power; Price, “Rituals and Power,” 47–71; Fantin, “Lord of the Entire World,” 70–134. Price says that “the imperial cult, along with politics and diplomacy, constructed the reality of the Roman empire” (Price, Rituals and Power, 248), while indicating most scholars’ “overemphasis” on the political dimension of the imperial cult, and providing detailed analyses of the rituals, sacrifices, and images of the cult in Asia Minor.
10. Smallwood says about the Jewish tax as a categorizing criterion of self-confessed Jews and proselytes: “The record of attempts made during Domitian’s reign to conceal one’s circumcision by the surgical operation of epispasm or by other means (Celsus, De Medic. vii. 25, suggesting that the operation was well known at the time of publication [before c. 90; the work is mentioned by Quintilian xii, 11, 24]) will concern apostates, who it is reasonable to suppose wanted to escape the tax as well as to pass as gentiles socially” (Smallwood, Jews, 376). This description shows one fragmentary example of the complex responses of the margins toward the center. It is likely that whether to survive, to keep one’s position, or to conceal one’s national identity for property, in the first century, there were various, complex relations among the groups under Roman rule. In addition, the remark below shows clearly a variety of Jewish attitudes to the Romans: “The Herodian rulers and their party were naturally pro-Roman. The High priests also generally favored cooperation, as did the Sadducees. The Essenes withdrew to the desert, while the Zealots worked for armed rebellion. The Pharisees saw as their first loyalty absolute adherence to the Mosaic Law and traditions. They refused to take an oath of loyalty to Herod (Josephus Ant. 17.42); some actively resisted Roman rule, but others were more acquiescent.