St. John, Apostle and Evangelist, is more of a folk hero than historical figure.

Now, we like to say that tradition holds that John was a disciple and apostle of Jesus, the evangelist who wrote the gospel of John, the evangelist who wrote the epistles, and the John of Patmos who wrote Revelation.

Modern skepticism puts incredible doubt on this. But even this doesn’t hold the story well. Pitting premodern belief against modern skepticism rarely yields satisfying theological truths.

What tradition has done with John is something of a different sort. It isn’t purely after belief; it is something more like practicing hagiography with a side of apologetics. The point is not simply to make things make sense, but to also convince us that John, too, is special.

A notion that doesn’t strike me as terribly Jesus-like.

Creating the myth

From our vantage point, we can see the connections between three (probably) different evangelists and the apostle with a kind of amateur sleuth’s ease. The sheer likelihood that it all holds together is slim.

The key to the myth of one, singular John rests on the conclusion to the gospel of John. It says that he would outlive everyone; which makes it possible for an eighty-something apostle to write the gospel and a 100+ year-old John to be exiled on Patmos to write apocalyptic literature in a completely different style.

Our tradition about John rests on a few verses highlighting the possibility—and the propensity to pretend scribes and pseudonyms don’t exist.

One of the more compelling critiques of this tradition came two decades ago by Elaine Pagels in her book, Beyond Belief. She writes that the tone at the end of John’s gospel is far less likely the earnest writings of a devoted apostle, but the propaganda of a Johannine community written to counter (and compromise) a growing Thomas community.

Like most scholars, Pagels takes little interest in believing the apostle himself composed the gospel. But more import above everyone else; even at the expense of Jesus.

This rings true to those of us who have long been troubled by the notion of a secret “beloved disciple”.

Further proof

The more recent scholarship of Elizabeth Schrader, which repositions Mary in the gospel of John, further supports the notion that this hagiography.

Schrader’s work in the scribal edits in John 11 reveals the influence the scribes had in potentially transforming the very substance of the gospel to protect a different interpretive message of Jesus.

Schrader shows that the figure of Martha in John 11 only exists in the scribal edits of the most authoritative manuscripts, leading us to a potential truth that the evangelist wrote only about Mary. And that this Mary may also be Mary Magdalene.

We must now entertain the possibility that the central non-Jesus figure in the gospel of John was not intended to be Peter or John himself, but was originally Mary Magdalene. And it was those followers of John or perhaps later scribes, who sought to focus our attention on Jesus, Peter, and John instead.

Which John?

I’ve long asked: Which John do we celebrate today? But I no longer think the prospect of separating each identity is worth all that much. At least in terms of what speaks to us in our moment.

We aren’t premodernists casting out in the darkness for answers. Nor are we modernists whose sole purpose is to find a singular answer to a paradoxical reality.

The best we have in postmodernity is to wrestle with the many identities of a mythic figure who was intended to transcend the literal, human flesh from the beginning. And whose identity has been so scaffolded by tradition, we can scarcely see the ground.

The John we receive is a composite that, unfortunately, doesn’t serve us all that well. To that, Schrader, in her interview with Diana Bass, gives us another glimpse of brilliance.

A better John

What if we focus on the John the Evangelist we can see beneath the scribal edits? The one who stakes his life on the Word made flesh. Who reveals a boundary-breaking Messiah at the wedding and by the well. The one who calls twelve men to follow him, but has a woman following him who understands the gospel better than any of them.

What if that is the one we focus on?

The evangelist who speaks of the need for a Messiah and the openness that this Messiah is for us, too.

This John can speak in ways the Apostle can’t. And in a voice far more trustworthy than one who calls himself the most special of disciples.

If we focus past the stuff that makes John look good, we can see some of the most brilliant witness to the faith of Jesus, to the character of God, and the missio dei. We see one who reveals the real beloved of Jesus: the powerless, the outcast, widow, and the immigrant.

When we focus on what actually makes John special, I think we see an apostle and evangelist worth celebrating.