There is a confession I have hesitated to make for years.
I do not naturally gravitate toward the Gospel of John.
I realize that statement may surprise many Christians. If asked to name their favorite Gospel, I suspect most believers would choose John. It is poetically written, heavily romanticized and profoundly devotional, it is also filled with memorable sayings that have shaped Christian worship and theology for nearly two thousand years.
Yet I find myself returning, again and again, to Matthew, Mark, and Luke.
The Synoptic Gospels feel firmly rooted in the world of first-century Judaism. They present a Jewish Messiah walking among His own people, proclaiming the arrival of God’s Kingdom, calling Israel to repentance, confronting corrupt leadership, healing the sick, and fulfilling the covenant story that stretches from Abraham through the prophets.
John feels different.
That is not a criticism. It is an observation shared by countless theologians and scholars of the New Testament. The Fourth Gospel is written in a more reflective theological style. Its language is deeply symbolic. Its conversations are extended and meditative. Jesus speaks in sustained theological discourse far more often than in the concise parables and aphorisms that characterize the Synoptics. Even its chronology and selection of events differ in significant ways.
Many contemporary scholars argue that the Gospel reached its final literary form within the Johannine community—a circle of disciples associated with the Apostle John—after decades of preserving, interpreting, and reflecting upon his witness. Others maintain traditional apostolic authorship. Whichever position one adopts, nearly everyone recognizes that John is doing something distinct from Matthew, Mark, and Luke.
That raises an intriguing question.
What if the Gospel of John had never been included in the New Testament?
This is not an argument against John’s Gospel, nor is it an attempt to diminish its authority. It is simply a thought experiment. By imagining the New Testament without John, we can better appreciate the unique contribution that his Gospel makes to the Christian canon.
What Would We Lose?
Quite a lot.
Without John, we would lose nearly every famous “I am” declaration:
- “I am the bread of life.”
- “I am the light of the world.”
- “I am the good shepherd.”
- “I am the resurrection and the life.”
- “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”
- “Before Abraham was, I AM.”
We would also lose the majestic prologue (“In the beginning was the Word…”), Thomas’ confession (“My Lord and my God”), the Farewell Discourse, Jesus’ High Priestly Prayer, and many of the passages that later became foundational for Trinitarian reflection.
These texts have profoundly shaped the Church’s understanding of Christ and His relationship to the Father.
What Would Still Remain?
Far more than many people realize.
Jesus would still be born of a virgin. He would still proclaim the Kingdom of God. He would still forgive sins, calm storms, cast out demons, heal the sick, be transfigured, suffer under Pontius Pilate, rise from the dead, ascend into heaven, sit at the right hand of God, and return as Judge.
Paul would still proclaim the exalted Lord. Hebrews would still describe Him as “the radiance of His glory and the exact representation of His nature.” Revelation would still present Him as the enthroned Lamb who receives the worship of heaven.
Jesus would remain the Messiah, the risen Lord, God’s appointed King, and the Savior of the world.
What changes is not His importance.
What changes is the language used to describe His identity and His relationship to the Father.
The Synoptics Ask Different Questions
Matthew, Mark, and Luke spend remarkably little time exploring abstract metaphysical questions.
Instead, they ask covenantal ones.
Is Jesus the promised Messiah?
Is He the Son of David?
Is He the Son of Man seen in Daniel’s vision?
Has God’s Kingdom finally arrived?
Again and again, Jesus calls Israel to repentance, covenant faithfulness, and readiness for God’s reign. His miracles function primarily as signs that God’s Kingdom has broken into history.
John certainly includes these themes, but his sustained emphasis lies elsewhere. Again and again, the Fourth Gospel invites readers to contemplate Jesus’ relationship with the Father, His heavenly origin, and His unique role in God’s redemptive purposes.
An Interesting Observation from Acts
One detail deserves more attention than it often receives.
The sermons recorded in Acts represent the earliest apostolic preaching preserved for us. Peter, Stephen, Philip, and Paul repeatedly proclaim Jesus as the Messiah whom God raised from the dead, exalted to His right hand, and appointed as Lord and Judge.
Yet none of those sermons quote John’s distinctive “I am” sayings.
Instead, they consistently emphasize Jesus’ death, resurrection, exaltation, repentance, forgiveness, and the coming Kingdom.
That does not diminish John’s Gospel. Rather, it reminds us that the earliest apostolic proclamation sounded remarkably similar to the presentation found in the Synoptic Gospels.
Would Our Christology Be Different?
I believe the answer is yes.
Not because Jesus would somehow become “less divine,” but because many of the passages most frequently cited in later Christological debates would be absent.
The Church would instead rely more heavily upon passages such as Philippians 2, Colossians 1, Hebrews 1, 1 Corinthians 8, and Revelation.
Those texts contain extraordinarily high Christology, yet they also invite careful interpretation. It is not difficult to imagine that the great debates of the fourth century would still have occurred, but perhaps along somewhat different lines and at a slower pace.
None of this means the Church could not have developed a robust Christology without John.
It almost certainly would have.
The point is not that John’s Gospel invented high Christology. Rather, John expresses that Christology in a literary and theological voice unlike any other New Testament writer.
One Greek Word That Illustrates the Difference
Consider the Greek word monogenēs (μονογενής).
For centuries English readers encountered it as “only begotten.”
Today, however, most Greek scholars understand the word to mean “unique,” “one and only,” or “one of a kind.”
The word combines monos (“only” or “unique”) with genos (“kind,” “class,” or “family”), not with the Greek verb gennaō (“to beget”).
Hebrews 11:17 illustrates the point beautifully. Isaac is called Abraham’s monogenēs, even though Abraham had already fathered Ishmael. Isaac was not Abraham’s only son. He was his unique son—the child of promise through whom God’s covenant purposes would continue.
John uses the same word to describe Jesus.
Recognizing this does not diminish Christ in any way. It simply encourages us to let theology grow from careful exegesis rather than reading later doctrinal formulations back into every occurrence of a particular word.
Why This Matters
I am not arguing against the Gospel of John.
I believe it belongs in the canon.
I also believe we honor it best by allowing it to speak with its own distinctive voice instead of forcing it to sound exactly like Matthew, Mark, or Luke.
Likewise, we should not allow John’s theological reflections to silence the distinctive witness of the Synoptic Gospels.
Matthew, Mark, and Luke introduce us to the Jewish Messiah walking the dusty roads of Galilee. They emphasize His proclamation of God’s Kingdom, His fulfillment of Israel’s Scriptures, His call to repentance, and His faithfulness to the covenant story.
John invites us to contemplate that same Messiah more deeply—to ask what His life ultimately reveals about the Father and about God’s purposes for the world.
Those are not competing portraits.
They are complementary ones.
Had the Gospel of John never been written, Christianity would almost certainly have emphasized Jesus’ messianic mission more than philosophical reflection upon His divine identity. We would still proclaim the crucified and risen Lord. We would still worship the One whom God exalted above every name. We would still await His return as King.
But our vocabulary would almost certainly be different.
The Synoptics introduce us to the Messiah walking among His people.
John invites us to contemplate the eternal significance of that same Messiah.
The wisdom of the canon is that it preserved both conversations.
History and theology.
Proclamation and contemplation.
The earthly ministry of Jesus and the profound reflection upon what that ministry ultimately revealed about God.
The Church has needed both voices from the very beginning.
Omnia in Christo.
Endnotes:
1. Richard Bauckham, The Testimony of the Beloved Disciple (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007), 1–32
2. D. A. Carson, The Gospel According to John (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991), 19–36.
3. N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996), 201–208.
4. Frederick William Danker, ed., A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature, 3rd ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000), BDAG defines the term primarily as “one and only” or “unique,” rather than emphasizing the concept of begetting.
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