Nicodemus says to them (being one of themselves),
The council has just sneered that not one ruler has believed in Jesus, and at that moment a ruler speaks. The speaker is Nicodemus, the man who had once come to Jesus at night. His words show how far he has moved since then, and how far he still has to go.
The officers had come back confessing the power of Jesus' words. The Pharisees answered with a challenge: name one ruler who believed.
Conscience answered to the words of the Lord. In front of their masters it drew out of the officers a confession they never meant to make — a confession of the power with which He spoke. But the Pharisees, with unbreakable hardness, throw that weakness back at them. They challenge them to name any of the rulers or of the Pharisees who believed, and they show their contempt for the mass of their countrymen. Boasting in law, they were then dishonouring God by breaking the law and far worse. But God brings forward an unexpected, even if feeble, witness from among themselves — not only a Pharisee, but a ruler.
The verse points back to that first night visit. One writer reads his three appearances in this Gospel as a slow sunrise.
You tell me, as a criticism, that he came by night. Well, never mind — he came to Jesus, and that is more than you have done yet. There are three stages in his history. I call John 3 midnight, John 7 twilight, and John 19 daylight. It was darkest midnight in that man's soul when he came creeping to Jesus, hoping that nobody saw him. He was beginning to get a glimmer of light when he put in a word sideways for the Lord in chapter 7. But the death of Christ produced in Nicodemus what His life had never achieved.
He speaks carefully. He asks the council to keep the law they boast in.
However, from their own ranks a voice speaks out. Nicodemus was both a Pharisee and a ruler of the Jews (John 3:1). He appeals to the law they spoke of: "Does our law judge a man without first giving him a hearing and learning what he does?" (v. 51). He himself had taken time to listen to the Lord (John 3:1-21), and all he asks for is a fair hearing, as the law itself demands. He does not here even take sides with the Lord Jesus, but he calls for righteous judgment.
Even that costs him. The answer he gets is scorn, and one writer turns it on the reader.
The moment he does speak a little word, indirectly, on behalf of Jesus, how is he met? With scorn and derision. "Are you from Galilee too?" say the Pharisees. "Search and see that no prophet arises from Galilee." My friend, do not let the laughter of someone who knows less than you turn you aside. Do not let the sneer or the jeer of a worldly person stop you from coming out boldly for the Saviour.
Commentators weigh this step differently. One reads it as real progress, though incomplete:
Here Nicodemus' advice brings him under suspicion. He is more in the open than when he first went to Jesus by night. Surely here we see an advance, but he is still in the Sanhedrin, sitting among the men who would have arrested our Lord.
Another looks at the same scene and sees a man defending Christ in the wrong room, and notices where he is never found:
But this is slow work, and the slowness is not to his credit. The fear of man was still over him. The affections that drew him to the Lord were not yet in command. Had they been, he would not have been standing up for Him in a council of enemies. He would have joined himself to His disciples. Indeed we never find him in their company; a bad sign. Cords that do not pull a man that way must be weak. Still, the thing is real with him. The man who once stole by night to the Lord now stands up for His rights, as one accused, before His enemies.
His story does not end here. The last time he appears, the crisis that paralysed the bold has made the cautious brave.
Now we find him taking a further step forward. He identified himself with Jesus in His death more definitely than he ever had during His life. The crisis had paralysed the men who had boldly identified themselves with the Lord in His life and ministry. That same crisis steeled these timid and cautious men into boldness and action. Until then they had been in the background, unrecognised. Truly Omnipotence has servants everywhere!
- Night. He first came to Jesus in the dark, hiding the visit; that beginning is not despised — coming at all is more than most do.
- Twilight. Here he moves only a little into the open: he asks for a lawful hearing, without yet taking Christ's side.
- Answer. The council demanded the name of one ruler who believed; God answered from inside the council itself, with a Pharisee and a ruler.
- Cost. Even a plea for common fairness drew mockery; the jeer of those who know less is no reason to stay silent.
- Daylight. At His death the timid man acted while the bold stood paralysed — God has servants everywhere, even in that council.
Does our law judge a man before it have first heard from himself, and know what he does?
The council has just written off the whole crowd as accursed for not knowing the law. It has boasted that no ruler believed in Jesus. Then one of their own rulers speaks up with a question about that very law — and the question exposes them.
The Pharisees had challenged the temple officers to name a single ruler who believed. The answer came from someone sitting with them.
Here conscience answered to the words of the Lord. In front of their masters it drew out an involuntary confession of the power with which He spoke. But the Pharisees are hard past breaking. They throw the officers' weakness back at them. They challenge them to name any ruler or Pharisee who believed. And they show their contempt for the mass of their countrymen. Boasting in law, they were at that very moment dishonouring God by breaking the law, and by far worse. But God brings forward a witness from among themselves. He is unexpected and feeble — yet not only a Pharisee, but a ruler.
The question has two halves: hearing the man, and knowing what he does. Both were legal requirements, not personal favours.
At this time Nicodemus makes no confession of Christ. Still, he ventures to raise a word on behalf of law and order. The law did not allow anyone to condemn a man before hearing evidence of what he had said and done. At once Nicodemus exposes himself to the sneer that he too is one of His followers from Galilee. The implication is that there is no need to hear Him or ask what He has done.
The council had just used the law as a weapon against the ignorant crowd. Nicodemus takes that same weapon out of their hands. Yet one writer sees timidity in the way he does it.
Notice, too, how their thinking is thrown off course. "This people, that does not know the law, are accursed." But what stops them? "Does our law judge a man without first giving him a hearing?" And what is this timidity of Nicodemus? He shelters himself behind the plea of their law. So he takes out of their mouth their complaint that the people are ignorant of the law. And he throws the breaking of it on them if they carried out their purpose. Oh, if only we had faith to trust God! But if we are not willing to suffer in the flesh, we never shall.
Nicodemus does not defend Jesus. He asks for procedure. But this ruler had heard Jesus for himself once before.
He appeals to the law they spoke of: "Does our law judge a man without first giving him a hearing and learning what he does?" He himself had taken time to listen to the Lord. All he asks for is fair consideration, as the law itself calls for. He does not here even take sides with the Lord Jesus, but he calls for righteous judgment.
A fair question should have slowed them down. Instead they attacked the questioner — and got their facts wrong doing it.
He now speaks, Nicodemus by name, and asks a simple, relevant, but most unwelcome question. Such a question might well have made honest people pause. It only irritated the men he had asked. They turned at once on Nicodemus and said, "Are you from Galilee too? Search and see that no prophet arises from Galilee." As often happens when people support a bad cause, they tried to silence the man whose question was so inconvenient. And, like many others in the same spirit, they did not care whether their words were accurate. There certainly had been one prophet out of Galilee, if no more — Jonah, the son of Amittai, of Gath-hepher.
This verse is the middle of three scenes in one life, and the middle is not the end.
Nicodemus afterwards grew bolder. In the council he urged that they ought to hear the Lord and examine His acts before condemning Him. The last we read of Nicodemus is this: after the crucifixion he brought about a hundred pounds' weight of myrrh and aloes to embalm the Lord's body.
Read together, the three appearances trace a single line.
Is this not a charming biography of a disciple, given in the fewest possible words? The beginning, NIGHT; further on, TWILIGHT; lastly, open confession of a heroic kind — NOONTIDE. No book but the Bible can convey so stimulating a story in a few vivid strokes.
- Night. Nicodemus first came to Jesus after dark. Now he is the one ruler who speaks — an unexpected and feeble witness, from inside the very body that boasted no ruler believed.
- Law. His question states a plain legal rule: judges must hear a man and examine what he has done before they condemn him.
- Irony. The men who cursed the crowd for not knowing the law were breaking it themselves. Nicodemus turns their own charge back on them.
- Twilight. Commentators differ: one calls it timidity, another says he grew bolder. Either way, he shelters behind the law and does not yet take sides.
- Noontide. A fair question got a sneer and a false claim in reply. But the man who asked it came out at last in daylight. He carried spices to the grave of the One he had once visited at night.
They answered and said to him, Art thou also of Galilee? Search and look, that no prophet arises out of Galilee.
Nicodemus asked the leaders to keep their own law and hear a man before condemning him. They answered with a sneer about Galilee, and that sneer raises two questions: was it even true, and what did it show about men who taught Scripture for a living?
The leaders had just asked whether any ruler or Pharisee believed in Jesus. One did, and he was in the room.
Any Pharisee or ruler believe on Him! They thought it impossible. But one man was present at that moment who felt differently. He now speaks, Nicodemus by name. He asks a simple, fitting, but most unwelcome question: "Does our law judge a man without first giving him a hearing and learning what he does?" Such a question might well have made honest people pause. It only irritated the men it was aimed at. They turned at once on Nicodemus: "Are you from Galilee too? Search and see that no prophet arises from Galilee." His question was very inconvenient, so they would try to silence him — as men often do when defending a bad cause.
Their put-down sounded final. It was wrong twice over: about the prophets, and about where Jesus was born.
So here the Pharisees assume that no prophet arises out of Galilee. They were wrong in every possible way. Were they prophets to speak for God at that time? Had they never heard of Jonah or Nahum? … But the truth is that the One their soul hated had come out of Bethlehem-Ephrathah. The poor of the flock waited for Him, and His goings forth are from of old, from the days of eternity (Micah 5:2). They knew nothing of Him, though the law and the prophets everywhere testified of Him.
(Kelly follows an older rendering of Micah 5:2; the ESV reads "from ancient days.")
Jonah's home town has been identified as Galilean territory:
Son of Amittai and the prophet of Gath-hepher (in Galilee: compare John 7:52).
They told Nicodemus to search. They had not searched themselves. They had Scripture; what they lacked was the will to read it honestly.
The reproach of the Jews in the time of our Lord (John 7:52) was remarkable, for prophets had arisen out of Galilee. Jonah and Nahum were both Galileans. There is nothing in which men are so likely to be blind as in reading the Bible. Even the facts of Scripture are too often passed over with more carelessness than those of any other book. People readily forget what it does not suit them to remember.
Galilee was no embarrassment to explain away. Scripture had marked it out in advance as the place where light would break.
This prophetic promise (Isaiah 9:1-2) brought comfort to the faithful remnant. It looked to a day when Gentile powers would oppress the land, and the Messiah would be "a stone of offense and a rock of stumbling to both houses of Israel." The promise was that in such times a bright and glorious light would shine out in the most obscure and despised part of the land. And so it came about. Jesus came into Galilee preaching the kingdom of God, and this gave the Pharisees of Jerusalem a reason to despise Him. Ignoring Jonah, who was of the land of Zebulun, they said, "Search and see that no prophet arises from Galilee."
He said very little, and indirectly at that. It was still enough to draw fire.
The moment he does speak a little word, indirectly, on behalf of Jesus, how is he met? With scorn and derision. "Are you from Galilee too?" say the Pharisees … The speakers begin to think he is almost a convert. My friend, do not let the laughter of someone who knows less than you turn you aside. Do not let the sneer or the jeer of a worldly person keep you from coming out boldly for the Saviour.
That confident dismissal did not die with those leaders. It has only changed its vocabulary.
There is the same triumphant claim for the supreme place of human cleverness and knowledge. The modern phrase is, "All scholars are agreed …" agreed in denying or even ridiculing the Word of God. But now, as then, all scholars are NOT agreed … And like the religious men of old, our modern examples are just as wrong in their basic facts. Christ was not "of Galilee", as they ought to have known. They did not trouble to look beneath surface appearances.
- Sneer. The leaders could not answer a fair question, so they turned on Nicodemus himself — the usual move when defending a bad cause.
- Search. They ordered a search they had never made: prophets had come out of Galilee, Jonah and Nahum both.
- Sight. Men can hold the Bible and still be blind in it, forgetting what it does not suit them to remember.
- Scripture. Isaiah 9:1-2 promised light in the most despised part of the land. Micah 5:2 named Bethlehem. Their "fact" collapsed twice over.
- Stand. One timid word for Christ drew ridicule; the lesson is not to let a sneer decide which side you take.
And every one went to his home.
The council has just broken up in anger, unable to lay a hand on Jesus and unable to agree. This one quiet line records how the day ended: every leader had a house to go to, and the Son of God had none.
The officers sent to arrest Jesus came back empty-handed. Nicodemus's plea for a fair hearing earned him a sneer. Nothing was settled.
Where was the city that had killed the prophets, and was going to kill Him of whom all the prophets had spoken? Irritated at their powerlessness, being able to do nothing to hinder the testimony of Jesus, they disperse, and every one goes to his own house. His hour was not yet come.
Through this chapter the light grows brighter and the circle around Him grows smaller.
So the higher the truths that the Lord unfolds, the greater His rejection by the world, the fewer His followers, and the more solitary His path. At last we read, "They went each to his own house", and Jesus is left alone to go to the Mount of Olives.
The force of the sentence lies in a small word: own.
The opening is simply moving: "They went each to his own house" — none of them was without one. "But Jesus went to the Mount of Olives." Even now He is above them in glory, as He was then above them in conduct.
His homelessness was not only a lack of property. It was a lack of welcome — though one woman later opened her door to Him.
There was not a man in all the city of Jerusalem who said to Him at nightfall: "Sir, You are a stranger in the city, worn out from the work of the day. Come home with me and rest for the night." The mountain cave was His refuge, and the cold earth His bed. The men showed Him no hospitality. But there was a woman named Martha with a house not many miles away. When she came to know Him, she received Him into her house and served Him with devoted love!
The Mount of Olives was not a hiding place. It was where He met His Father, and He came back from it to serve.
"They went each to his own house, but Jesus went to the Mount of Olives" (John 7:53; John 8:1). Far from man's uncertainty and contempt, the Son of God withdrew to enjoy the fellowship of the Father. From there He returns for service.
That hill also carries a longer story than one night.
But each one goes away to his home. Jesus had no home until He went back to heaven, where He came from. He goes to the Mount of Olives — the witness of His agony, His ascension, and His return. He often visited it when at Jerusalem during the time of His ministry on earth.
He had nowhere to sleep. Yet He was never without rest.
There is not a person in Baltimore so poor that he does not have a pillow of some kind. It may hold nothing but straw, but he has a pillow. The blessed Saviour had nowhere to lay His head. The disciples could go to their homes, but "Jesus went to the Mount of Olives." In one sense He did have a good place to lay His head — the Father's bosom. But He loved your soul and mine, and travelled on to die upon the cross.
This verse opens the story of the woman caught in adultery, which runs to John 8:11. Many old manuscripts leave it out. The commentators quoted here defend it. One points to the blanks left in some copies:
Some copies leave a blank. That makes no sense unless the scribe knew a paragraph belonged there, but for reasons of his own thought fit to leave it out. Others moved it to another place, and even to another Gospel writer. Yet it is foreign in tone to all but John, and it suits no place in John but here, where the weight of authority puts it… The passage carries a positive weight of truth, and its fitness at this very point of the Gospel could never be explained if it were a forgery or a tradition.
Another points to why anyone would have removed it:
Everyone admits that this passage is missing from some very important manuscripts. But remember that the most ancient manuscripts go back no further than the time of Constantine. Augustine states plainly that it was left out "for fear of allowing immorality."
- Home — Every man in the room had one waiting; the Son of God had none.
- Homeless — He had no house because no door in Jerusalem opened to Him, though Martha's house later would.
- Hill — Olives meant fellowship with the Father, not escape. The same slope later saw His agony, His ascension, and His promised return.
- Held — Even without a pillow, He had the Father's bosom to rest on — and love for us carried Him on to the cross.
- Handed down — The verse opens a passage some manuscripts drop. The blanks in those copies show the scribes knew what they left out.