Jesus, the Beloved Disciple and Greco-Roman Friendship Conventions

Ronald F. Hock

University of Southern California

Introduction

Two issues of Johannine scholarship, one a longstanding issue and the other a more recent one, may both be advanced by dealing with them together. The longstanding issue concerns the disciple whom Jesus loved, introduced at 13:23 and often called the Beloved Disciple. Since this disciple remains unnamed even in subsequent appearances, scholars have sought to identify him but none of the numerous proposals has proved persuasive. Of more recent concern is the theme of friendship in the gospel. Scholars have naturally focused on Jesus and have regarded him as the exemplary friend, especially through his laying down his life for his friends (15:13), a commonplace sentiment of ancient friendship discussions. But this concern rarely goes beyond a Christological use of friendship discussions.

The purpose of this essay is to argue that discussions ofthis unnamed, if important,disciple in the gospel would be more fruitful if we were to move beyond the question of identity—that is, who is this disciple?—a question that seems to defy being answered, to another question, the question of function—that is, what role does this disciple play in the narrative? The answer to this question of function emerges more clearly if we look for it in terms of the second issue, the theme of friendship, but apply the friendship conventions not only to Jesus but also to the Beloved Disciple. Specifically, I propose,that the Beloved Disciple’s behavior would have been regarded by readers of John’s Gospel as those of a friend to Jesus. Indeed, as Jesus’ friend the two of them become a pair of friends—indeed, a pair of Christian friends—much like the various pairs of friends that were so common a feature of Greco-Roman discussions of friendship, namely,the convention of visualizing ideal friendships in terms of pairs.

I. The Beloved Disciple and Friendship: Two Separate Issues in Johannine Studies

Our first task, however, will be to situate this proposal more fully in the discussions of these two issues before relating them to one another. The anonymous disciple “whom Jesus loved” appears only in the Gospel of John. Anonymous characters appear regularly in this gospel, even rather prominent ones, such as the Samaritan woman in chapter 4 and the man born blind in chapter 9, not to mention Jesus’ mother (2:1-12; 19:25-27).[1] There are even other unnamed disciples (1:35, 40; perhaps 18:15), but what makes the Beloved Disciple so intriguing is thathe has a role in a number of key events in the gospel, especially in the passion narrative. This disciple[2] appears for the first time in the midst of the last supper, introduced initially as “one of the disciples” (ei[j e0k tw~n maqhtw~n) and then further specified as the disciple“whom Jesus loved” (o$n h)ga/pa o9 0Ihsou/j) (13:23). He is probablythe“other disciple” (a!lloj maqhth/j) who went with Jesus into the palace of the high priest where Jesus was to be questioned (18:15-16).[3] He is definitely present at the cross in an exchange with Jesus and his mother (19:25-27) and witnesses the sword thrust (19:35). He is the first to arrive at the empty tomb after notification from Mary Magdalene that the body of Jesus was missing (20:1-10) and the first to recognize the man by the lakeshore as the risen Jesus (21:1-8). Finally, he is the subject of rumors about his fate (21:20-23) and isseemingly identified as the author of the gospel itself (21:24-25).

Given the importance of this disciple in the gospel, it is not surprising that there has been a keen interest in his identity. This interest goes back to the early church and has continued up to the present. Eusebius cites a passage from a second century author, Papias of Hierapolis, who favors John the elder,[4] a view that has been rigorously defended anew by Richard Bauckham.[5] Still, John the elder was soon merged with another John, the apostle John, i.e.,the son of Zebedee,[6] and while this identification soon became traditional, a number of other candidates have been proposed in more recent times—among them Lazarus, Thomas, John Mark, Matthias, or simply a literary or symbolic figure.[7] And yet, despite all the effort, this quest for the identity of the Beloved Disciple has proved frustrating and fruitless. As Werner Georg Kümmel concludes: “[T]he identity of the Beloved Disciple remains unknown to us.”[8]

But while the question of identity has proved fruitless, a way forward for understanding this disciple suggests itself by asking another question, that of function. Some scholars have moved in this direction already, but their answers—for example, seeing this disciple as a “model of appropriate response to Jesus”[9]—remain vague, at least in terms of content that would have made sense in the first century.

Greater clarity is possible, however, if we turn to the other issue of Johannine scholarship mentioned above, that is, the recent interest in the theme of friendship in John’s gospel, as is shown by the recent studies of Sharon Ringe and Klaus Scholtissek.[10] Their studies are helpful in many respects, notably in their convenient, if general, summaries of Greco-Roman (and Jewish) discussions of friendship[11] and in their conceptualizing the behavior and role of Jesus in John’s gospel in terms of friendship. Both focus on John 15:9-17, with its friendship topos of dying for a friend (15:13),[12] although Ringe also analyzes well the friendship dimensions of the image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd in John 10[13] and Scholtissek locates Jesus’ frank and open speech (parrhsi/a) (especially 16:25, 29) within the conventions of friendship.[14] And for both Jesus’ friendship toward his disciples, even to the point of dying for them, becomes the basis for makingfriendship the defining characteristic of discipleship, then and now, which is to love one another (13:34-35; 15:12, 17).[15] In other words, Christology grounds ecclesiology.

And yet, the influence of Greco-Roman friendship conventions on the Gospel of John in these studies is vitiated by two factors. First, both Ringe and Scholtissek, however much they discuss friendship conventions, finally draw back from making these conventions central to the gospel. Ringe emphasizes instead the Jewish friendships of David and Jonathan and of Naomi and Ruth which feature the distinctly Jewish notion of hesed, or “covenant faithfulness,” a notion thatfinally “serves,” she says,“to elaborate the terse language of love in John 15.”[16] Scholtissek,while noting that dying for one’s friends is a Greco-Roman topos, not a Jewish one,[17] nevertheless minimizes this Greco-Roman friendshiptopos by subordinating it to the gospel writer’s distinctive overall theological program which ends upcontrasting the Hellenistic Freundschaftsethik to that of Jesus: “Jesu Freundschaft ist einseitig, wird ohne Vorbedingungen geschenkt, ist universal und überwindet soziale Hierarchien (von Knechten zu Freunden).”[18] The extent to which John’s gospel conforms to Greco-Roman friendship conventions slips into the background.

The second factor is that both Ringe and Scholtissek do not go much beyond the gospel’s Christological use of friendship conventions in their analyses and so miss the equally obvious use of another convention—thinking of friends in terms of pairs.[19] But this convention, as we shall see, is central to John’s portrayal of both Jesus and the Beloved Disciple. And here, of course, is where we have the two issues of Johannine scholarship, mentioned at the outset, brought together—the Beloved Disciple and the theme of friendship.

II. Pairs of Friends and the Conventions of Greco-Roman Friendship

Studies of Greco-Roman friendship[20] have long noted the role of pairs of friends in ancient discussions of friendship.[21] But scholars have done little more than cite the pairs of friends and call them sprichwörtlich.[22] Dio Chrysostom names three pairs that were widely bandied about (qrulou/menoi) in his day: Orestes and Pylades, Theseus and Peirithous, and Achilles and Patroclus.[23] Cicero at one place also speaks of three pairs, but names only Theseus (and Peirithous) and Orestes (and Pylades) but doubtlessly would have included Achilles and Patroclus.[24] At another place, however, he speaks of three or four pairs,[25]again naming none but now presumably thinking of the same three plus the Pythagoreans Damon and Phintias, a pair he mentions elsewhere.[26] Plutarch agrees with these four pairs and adds a fifth, presumably out of deference to his Boeotian background:the Theban generals Epameinondas and Pelopidas.[27] In any case, whether the number is three or four or five pairs, it is the rarity of such exemplary friendships that is being emphasized[28] as well as a belief that friendship is most clearly embodied in pairs.[29]

And yet, these proverbial friendships do not exhaust the pairs of friends who were considered as exemplary. In fact, there seems to have been a trend in Greco-Roman accounts of friendship to add pairs to the standard list, beginning with Cicero in the mid-first century B.C. In fact, Cicero is explicit on the point. One of the purposes of his De amicitiais to propose a new pair of friends to the standard ones. He says thathe hopes the friendship of Laelius and Scipio, to whom he often refers and praises in this treatise,[30] will become known to posterity alongside the three or four traditional pairs.[31] We have, in effect, Cicero placing a Roman pair of friends alongside the celebrated Greek ones. Similarly, Josephus, when paraphrasing the stories of David and Jonathan in 1-2 Samuel (=1-2 Kings LXX), consistently emphasizes their friendship by adding the termfili/a to his paraphrase as well as by using other friendship-related terminology.[32] At the time of Jonathan’s death David calls him, according to Josephus, a most loyal friend (pistotato\j fi/loj) and thus seems to regard the two as a pair of exemplaryJewish friends.[33] Another example is in Chariton’s novel, where Chaereas and Polycharmus are depicted throughout as a new pair of Greek friends and even compared to the pair par excellence, Achilles and Patroclus.[34] Finally, Lucian, seemingly tiring of the traditional pairs and calling them“antiquated friends” (palaioi\ fi/loi),[35] provides stories of ten contemporary and exemplary pairs (oi( kaq 0 h9ma~j) of friends, five Greek and five barbarian.[36] In short, exemplary pairs remained a vital part of Greco-Roman discussions of friendship not only among Greeks but also among Romans, Jews, and others.

What made these friendships exemplary was their embodying the various commonplaces of friendship, whether it was their virtue, the harmony of their views and values, or their willingness to share each other’s lives and fortunes. The importance of virtue in friendship goes back, as is well known, to Aristotle who proposed a tri-partite analysis of friendship in which friendships arose because of utility, pleasure, or virtue (a0reth/), with those based on virtue being genuine friendships.[37] Cicero constantly underscores the importance of virtue or goodness in friendship, going so far as to say that friendship cannot exist in any way without virtue (sine virtute amicitia esse ullo pacto potest)[38] or that friendship exists only among good men (in bonis),[39] whom he describes shortly afterwards with a virtue list: loyalty, integrity, fairness, and generosity.[40] Among these good men Laelius places his friend Scipio.[41] Similarly, Lucian in the Toxaris has the title character say that the Scythians admired Orestes and Pylades, in part, because they were good men (a1ndrej a0gaqoi/).[42]

The second commonplace—friends enjoying a harmony of views or being of “one mind” (mi/a gnw/mh)—is also characteristic of friendship,[43] and again Cicero emphasizes this quality when he defines friendship in part as being nothing else than agreement in all matters, human and divine.[44] Indeed, Laelius sees his own friendship with Scipio in this light, saying that their friendship consisted inter alia of agreement (consensus) in public matters.[45]

But it is the third commonplace mentioned above—that of sharing a friend’s life and fortunes—that most often characterizes these exemplary friendships.[46] Plutarch speaks of the pleasure that friends have from simply spending their days together.[47] Cicero elaborates these daily activities, saying that Laelius and Scipio shared one home, ate the same food, went on military tours together, visited foreign sites together, and vacationed together in the country.[48] Likewise, among Lucian’s contemporary friendships are Demetrius and Antiphilus who had been companions from childhood (e9tai~roi e0k pai/dwn) and fellow ephebes (sune/fhboi)before sailing to Alexandria where they lived together (sunei]nai) and got their educations together (sunpaideu/ein), one in philosophy, the other in medicine.[49]

But friendship means more than daily association. Fortunes change, for the good or bad. Thus, Aristotle speaks of friends sharing their joys and sorrows[50] or of the need for a friend in both prosperity and misfortune,[51] and this sentiment is repeated in general terms by Cicero[52] and Seneca,[53] whereasChariton, Plutarch, and Lucian give specific examples of friends sharing various kinds of adversity. Chariton narrates in detail the travels, the capture, the slavish work, the near execution, the battles on land and sea as well the victorious homecoming that Polycharmus and Chaereas shared in search of the latter’s wife,[54] while Plutarch speaks of Theseus and Peirithous sharing punishment and imprisonment in an ill-fated attempt to get a wife for Peirithous.[55] But it is Lucian who most strongly presents friends in terms of sharing good times and bad, virtually defining a friend as one who obligates himself to share his friends’ every twist of fortune (xrh\ toi~j fi/loij a9pa/shj tu/xhj koinwnei~n).[56] Orestes and Pylades are hisopening example as they face danger together in Scythia—getting captured, but then escaping from prison, freeing Orestes’ kidnapped sister, and returning home in harrowing fashion.[57]

Several of Lucian’s contemporary pairs experience dangers no less harrowing. After Deinias murders his lover and her husband, he is arrested by the authorities and sent to Rome for trial. His friend Agathocles shares the journey to Rome, stands by him at trial, and follows him into exile on Gyara, where he at first cares for Deinias who has fallen ill and then remains on the island after his friend has died.[58] Similarly, when Antiphilus is falsely arrested and thrown into prison for stealing sacred objects, his friend Demetrius, on his return from a trip up the Nile, learns of the imprisonment; finds his sickly and depressed friend in prison; works at the harbor in order to support himself and his friend as well as bribe the guard to let him inside; and, when security in the prison is tightened, even implicates himself in the crime so that he, too, can be imprisoned and so remain at his friend’s side.[59]

While these examples could be multiplied, it is better to offer some analytical comments, all of them of some import for our later look at the Beloved Disciple. The first comment is a linguistic one. When narrating how friends share adversity of one kind or another, these authors often use verbs with the prepositional prefix su/n-, presumably to emphasize the close bond between the two.[60] For example, in the course of narrating Chaereas’ and Polycharmus’ search for Callirhoe, Chariton uses a number of such compounds for Chaereas’ and Polycharmus’ joint adventures: share danger with (sugkinduneu/ein),[61] sail with (sumplei~n),[62] and die with (sunapoqanei~n).[63]

This linguistic convention is especially clear in Plutarch’s treatise “On Having Many Friends.” One problem with having many friends, he says, is the obligation of friends to share their lives, so that, if one has many friends, he might end up in a bind because they might all require his help at the same time: one friend who is leaving on a voyage asks him to travel together (sunapodhmei~n), another who has been accused asks him to go to trial together (sundikei~n), another who is acting as judge asks him to sit together as judges (sundika/zein), another who is buying and selling asks him to manage his household together (sundioikei~n), another who is getting married asks him to offer sacrifice together (sunqu/ein), and another who is burying a loved one asks him to mourn together (sumpenqei~n).[64] Not surprisingly, su/n-compounds also appear frequently in Lucian’s Toxaris[65]as well as in various other authors in friendship contexts, such as Diodorus Siculus who comments that Pythagorean friends not only shared their money but shared dangers (sugkinduneu/ein) as well, citing the traditional pair of Damon and Phintias as evidence.[66]

A second comment involves the point at which a pair of friends emerges. In several cases a person is depicted as belonging to a circle of friends, and it is only when adversity strikes that a true friend appears and stands by and aids his friend. Thus at the start of Chariton’s novel Chaereas is part of an indeterminate group of young men who passed their days at the gymnasium and indeed had befriended him (e0fi/lei au0to/n),[67] but it is only when Chaereas has to search for and redeem his kidnapped wife that Polycharmus, now called a friend (fi/loj),[68] joins him in the lengthy and dangerous search that makes up much of the novel. Likewise, Agathocles was at firstonly one of many friends of Deinias. The latter were all too eager to share in Deinias’ newly-inherited wealth and consequent revels, and indeed Agathocles, because he disapproved of his friend’s profligate living, was no longer invited to attend these revels.[69] When Deinias lost his fortune,[70]however, and later when he was to be tried for murder[71] Agathocles comes forward as his genuine friend, first bysupplying Deinias with money from the sale of his own estate[72] and later by joining him at trial in Rome, going with him into exile on Gyara, and staying with him there through sickness and even death.[73] Such are the lengths that friends go to in order to be with their friends and share their fortunes.