Symbolic & Spiritual Wisdom: Breaking Free from Literalism
The Gospel of John is intricately composed, frequently utilizing literary techniques, symbolism, and spiritual motifs.
One of the literary devices John employs throughout his Gospel is the pattern of saying, misunderstanding, and explanation. This rhetorical framework helps readers grasp the deeper spiritual truths Jesus is revealing—truths that are too easily lost when approached with a rigid, literalistic mindset.
The Pattern: Saying, Misunderstanding, Explanation
Repeatedly, John presents scenes where Jesus makes a profound statement, the hearers misunderstand him—typically by interpreting his words too literally—and then either Jesus or John provides an explanation. This device not only drives the narrative forward but also offers a commentary on the spiritual dullness that plagues many of Jesus' contemporaries.
Take John 2, for example:
Saying – Jesus declares, “Destroy this temple, and I will raise it in three days.”
Misunderstanding – The Jewish leaders assume he’s talking about the literal physical Temple.
Explanation – John clarifies: Jesus was speaking about his body.
Immediately in the next chapter, we see the same rhetorical device in the conversation with Nicodemus:
Saying – Jesus says, “No one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” (The Greek here can also be read as "born again.")
Misunderstanding – Nicodemus responds, “Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb?”
Explanation – Jesus explains that he’s referring to spiritual rebirth—of water and Spirit—not physical birth.
Pastors often chuckle at Nicodemus’ literal-minded response, but this is precisely John’s point: people frequently misunderstand Jesus because their thinking is too rigid.
Symbolism, Wisdom, and the Inside of the Cup
John’s Gospel is not a manual of doctrine; it is a wisdom text. Its goal is not to lay out rules, but to awaken the reader to the Spirit of God that moves within and around us.
In first-century Judaism, many had become fixated on external ritual purity and strict laws, which Jesus calls the ‘outside of the cup’ (Matt. 23:25-26). During the intertestamental period (roughly 450 BC to 30 AD), the Jewish people were longing for God to restore His presence among them, particularly through a renewed Kingdom.
But as time passed and God’s favor did not seem to manifest, various movements within Judaism grew increasingly rigid in their responses. The Pharisees—whose name means “separated ones”—emphasized external ritual purity, believing that the more ritually pure one remained, the more God would show favor.[1]
For the average Jewish person—whom the religious authorities referred to in Hebrew as am ha’aretz, meaning “people of the land”—maintaining ritual purity in everyday life was nearly impossible. Living in close quarters and in rural, agricultural conditions meant that these common people were almost always in a state of ritual impurity according to the religious standards of the elite.[2]
Practices such as immersion in a miqvah (ritual bath) were required before entering sacred spaces, such as the Temple or synagogue, to ensure external ritual purity. What began as a means to assist spiritual preparation eventually became an obsession. Religious leaders used these purity standards to judge, exclude, and label others.[3]
This rigid system gave rise to much of the tension between Jesus and the religious authorities. Many of Jesus’ disputes center on these self-imposed rules. Those in a state of ritual impurity were called “sinners” without regard to their moral character.
Tax collectors were deemed “unclean,” so Jesus tells the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector and the perils of self-righteousness. Tanners, shepherds, and other laborers were also deemed “unclean,” despite their essential roles in society. Ironically, the spiritual “shepherds” of Israel had lost sight of their own flock.
Jesus and the Gospel writers—John included—draw deeply from the imagery of Ezekiel 34, where God expresses anger at Israel’s shepherds for muddying the waters, trampling the grass, and neglecting the sheep. In that prophetic text, God declares that He Himself will become the shepherd of His people.
This obsession with ritual cleanliness is further illustrated in the Jewish view of the Samaritans. To the Jews, Samaritans were considered impure—ritually unclean and spiritually inferior. A striking example appears in the intertestamental book Ben Sirach (Sirach 50:25–26), where the author lists nations that his soul detests, naming the Samaritans as “not even a people.”
In Jewish eyes, they were sub-human. No attention was paid to the character of individual Samaritans or the fruit of their faith—even though they worshiped the same God as the Israelites. The Samaritans were reduced to a “non-people,” and simply saying the word “Samaritan” was considered defiling. It’s akin to a child today being punished for saying a “dirty word”—their mouth needing to be made clean - “washed out” with soap.
Jesus confronts this thinking directly in what we call “The Parable of the Good Samaritan”—though it might be better titled, “The Parable of Who Is My Neighbor?” (Luke 10:25-37) since that is the very question Jesus is answering.
In the parable, Jesus elevates the Samaritan’s moral character above that of the ritually clean priest and Levite. When Jesus finishes the story and asks, “Who was the neighbor?” the man cannot even bring himself to say “Samaritan.” He answers, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus replies, “Go and do likewise.”
In other words: go love the Samaritan—because they, too, are made in the image of God.
This is a pointed message and a direct challenge to the authority of the religious leaders of Jesus’ day. In the Gospel of John, Nicodemus represents this faction and its rigid thinking.
Nicodemus, a Pharisee and member of the ruling council (John 3:1-2), comes to Jesus at night, a symbolic clue that he is still in spiritual darkness. Though devout, he has become rigid in thought, trapped in a literalist framework. He represents a religious system that has lost its heart.
Jesus, however, turns the spotlight inward. He emphasizes moral purity over ritual, transformation over tradition, and relationship over regulation.
In a rigid religious system, the members are convinced that God is on their side and only shows favor to those who follow the rules, dogmas, and strict rituals. They have forgotten God's words to Moses: “I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy” (Exod. 33:19).
God does not follow human rules of religion. His divine freedom resists human systems of control, and we must be wary of judging who is ‘in’ and who is ‘out.’ As Jesus tells Nicodemus, “The wind (spirit) blows where it chooses...” (John 3:8). God's Spirit is not confined by ritual or rule—it moves freely.
A Warning for All Religious Movements
John uses characters—Nicodemus, the Samaritan woman, Lazarus, Pilate, Judas—not only to tell stories but also to reflect the prevailing spiritual conditions. He invites readers to step into their shoes and learn.
The overarching message is, ‘do not become rigid in your thinking about God.’
The religion of Jesus’ day had ossified—hardened like Lot’s wife when she looked back, longing for her past life (Gen. 19:26). This is a warning not only for first-century Judaism but for every religious movement across history.
Religious movements begin with a spark of divine inspiration—dynamic, free-flowing, deeply connected to God’s Spirit. But over time, that movement can crystallize into dogma. Doctrines calcify, rituals become hollow, and the original fire dims. What once liberated now restricts.
What Happened with Nicodemus?
We see this dynamic embodied in the journey of Nicodemus. At first, he is literally and figuratively in the dark—coming to Jesus at night, uncertain and bound by the rigid categories of his religious background.
But as John’s Gospel progresses, so does Nicodemus. In John 7:50, he begins to distance himself from the religious leaders, reminding them that the law requires a person to be heard before being condemned. The leaders snap back, “You aren’t from Galilee too, are you?”—mocking him for even appearing to sympathize with Jesus.
But Nicodemus's eyes are gradually opening. By John 19:39, he steps fully into the light—both physically and spiritually. John pointedly reminds us that Nicodemus “had previously come to Jesus at night,” but now he is out in the open, assisting Joseph of Arimathea with Jesus’ burial.
Not only is he no longer hiding, but he brings with him seventy-five pounds of myrrh—an extravagant amount for a single burial. Myrrh, notably, is a spice associated with resurrection. Nicodemus’s generous offering suggests he now anticipates what is to come: Jesus’ resurrection.
Through him, John brilliantly illustrates the journey from literalism to spiritual illumination—a journey out of darkness and into the light.
John’s Gospel as Wisdom Literature
John’s Gospel fits squarely within the traditions of Jewish mysticism and wisdom literature. Wisdom is internal – the ‘inside of the cup.’ It is the illumination of the soul, not the checklist of ritual. As Proverbs teaches, “Wisdom is more precious than rubies” (Prov. 3:15). When we ask for wisdom, we are asking for divine insight, not new rules, but clearer vision.
“Recognize the symbols that penetrate the soul of humanity—but beware of becoming fixed, rigid, and ossified.”
John’s Gospel invites us to see that man's rituals and judgments do not confine God, and neither should we be.
John wants his readers to awaken to the symbolic world Jesus is unveiling. He wants us to read between the lines, to hear with spiritual ears, and to see with spiritual eyes. In doing so, we begin to grasp God's unbounded nature.
So, let us not become like those who misunderstand because they only see with literal eyes. Let us, instead, become seekers of wisdom—illuminated from within—so we may see the Kingdom of God not as a fixed system of laws, but as a living, breathing reality that is always near.
[1] Baumgarten, Albert I. (2020). “Ancient Jewish Sectarianism” in The Jewish Annotated Apocrypha. Oxford University Press, pp. 551-557. https://amzn.to/4dlfEAa
[2] Oliver, Isaac W. (2011). “Baptism and Eucharist” in The Jewish Annotated New Testament, 2nd ed. Oxford University Press, pp 674-677. https://amzn.to/3H2Zi3d
[3] Ibid.
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