Twelve years ago I presented a paper at the international Society of Biblical Literature comparing the symbolism of Luke with that of John. There has been a widespread view that John is a ‘spiritual’ or symbolic gospel, and that is true at one level, though John often includes more historical and eye-witness detail than the others. So we need to be careful not to see ‘symbolic’ as the opposite of ‘historical’. And we should therefore not immediately assume that this is an area where Luke and John are as far apart as is often assumed.
The paper is now going to be published in an academic volume, so I have revised and expanded it. I offer here part of the paper, looking at the nature of symbolism in Luke, and using the episodes of the miraculous catch of fish in Luke 5 and John 21 to compare the symbolism in Luke and John. You can read the full pre-publication version here: Symbolic Action in Luke and John.
It might seem too obvious to note the differences between Luke and John; after all, the observation of the differences between the fourth gospel and the synoptics has a long history. But the differences have always been in danger of overemphasis, and Luke’s differences with Mark and Matthew, and points of contact with John, neglected.
Cribbs (‘St. Luke and the Johannine Tradition’ JBL, 90.4, 1971) notes not only points of contact between Luke and John, but what he interprets as places where Luke and John agree over against Mark and Matthew. He lists nine significant examples, including the depiction of Jesus’ ministry beginning in the hill country of Nazareth rather than by the sea (Luke 4.14–16, John 2.1–11), the prediction of Peter’s betrayal happening in the upper room rather than on the way to the Mount of Olives (Luke 22.31–34, John 13.36–38), and Jesus’ post-resurrection appearances being in Jerusalem rather than Galilee (Luke 24.13ff and John 20.11ff). From this, Cribbs suggests that Luke is later than John (or some form of proto-John), and that part of Luke’s goal is to mediate the differences between John and Matthew/Mark.
The methodological question here is, when two texts appear to agree against others, which is the direction of dependency, and how would we know? How would we here judge that Luke is agreeing with John, rather than John is agreeing with Luke? Thus Mark Goodacre, in his new The Fourth Synoptic Gospel: John’s Knowledge of Matthew, Mark, and Luke, draws the opposite conclusion: John has knowledge of and draws on both Luke and Mark-and-Matthew.
Despite these connections, we might still note the distinctives of Luke: its focus on the role of women, so some passages might be called ‘gynocentric’ texts, and the notable inclusion of male/female pairs; the central role of the Spirit in the ministry of Jesus in Luke and the ministry of the apostles in Acts; the importance of money and finance in the teaching of Jesus; and the significance of the destruction of temple.
Symbolic action in Luke
Although the narrative of Luke is not so obviously heavily laden with symbolic significance as is the narrative in John, we should nevertheless note the frequency of episodes in the third gospel which are freighted with a surplus of symbolic meaning, beyond what we find in Matthew and Mark.
| Birth narrative (2.1–7) | “Everything points to poverty, obscurity and even rejection.” Morris (1988) p 92. Veracity and uniqueness among the gospels aside, Luke’s birth narrative is presented in a manner richly aware of its symbolic power. |
| Boy Jesus at the Temple (2.41–52) | “The first recorded words of the Messiah are then a recognition of his unique relationship to God and of the necessity (must) of his being in the Father’s house.” (Morris, pp 101–2) That these first recorded words were spoken in the Temple, Jesus having already amazed the established religious teachers and authorities with the profundity of his understanding, presents the reader with a diorama that symbolically communicates the truth behind Jesus’ words, and the upheaval his life and ministry will enact. |
| Jesus’ baptism (3.21–22) | “It is at first sight puzzling that Jesus should have accepted baptism at the hands of John, for this baptism was a baptism of repentance. Since Luke depicts Jesus as without sin it is not obvious why he should have undergone this baptism. But Jesus saw sinners flocking to John’s baptism. Clearly he decided to take his place with them. At the outset of his ministry he publicly identified himself with the sinners he came to save.” (Morris, p 109) |
| Rejection at Nazareth (4.14–30) | Jesus’ choice of reading, Isa. 61:1 followed by 58:6, suggests careful selection: Jesus’ coming fulfils the Day of the Lord, liberation for the poor, the captive, the blind, and the oppressed. The town and people of Nazareth themselves serve a symbolic purpose: their rejection of their own, in the face of the unpalatable truth he brings, is a microcosm for the fatal rejection Jesus knows he must suffer. |
| Miraculous catch of fish (5.1–11) | There are deep and programmatic symbolic significances to this episode, which have close contact with the later episode in John 21, on which see below. |
| Rejection’ of mother and brothers (8.19–21) | Jesus’ ‘rejection’ of his mother and brothers is arguably symbolic, in as much as his implicit refusal to be distracted to meet with them is not ‘merely’ a disavowal of the primacy of family ties, but points beyond itself to the deeper truth that Jesus’ mother and brother are “those who hear the word of God and do it.” |
| Feeding of 5000 (9.12–17) | Luke’s version of this event, narrated in all four gospels, has a distinctive focus on the Twelve, symbolising the restoration of Israel, explicit focus on the invitation to the wilderness and the teaching of Jesus as the new Moses, and strong parallels with Jesus’ action in the Last Supper. |
| Samaritan opposition (9.51–56) | Jesus’ passing through Samaria, with his face set to Jerusalem, serves a dual symbolic purpose: it is made clear that the Incarnation is for all people, not only Gentiles, while at the same time continuity with the faith and God of Israel is affirmed. |
| Last supper (22.19–20) | Luke treats the meal in the upper room as the institution of a new liturgy, in distinction from the other gospels. While the Passover meal symbolises deliverance, it does not evoke vicarious sacrifice, as does the language Jesus uses here, which is the basis of many contemporary eucharistic liturgies. “Jesus is interpreting his death in a Passover context and making it clear that it has saving significance.” (Morris, p 334) |
Thus we see in Luke a series of symbolic actions of Jesus, though which are perhaps not classified as such since we do not see in them the multi-dimensional explicit symbolism that we find in John.
Comparing the miraculous catch(es) of fish
The two accounts of the miraculous catch of fish, in Luke 5.1–11 and John 21.1–14, offer a fascinating comparison, since they share so many features, and yet illustrate most starkly the difference in the symbolic register of the two gospels. The similarities are striking: in both stories, the men have had a fruitless night’s work; Jesus gives a surprising instruction; there is a miraculous superabundance of catch; there is a recognition of (who) Jesus (is); Peter is central to both accounts; and the result is a (re)commissioning for ministry. Because of these points of contact, older commentators have argued on source-critical grounds that the two are creative narrations by each gospel writer based on a single event.
More recent commentators note specific interaction between the accounts, with either Luke writing his knowing John’s, or vice versa. Again we are faced with the methodological question of, when two texts share similarities, how we determine which direction the influence flows. And the differences between the accounts are as striking as the similarities:
Luke 5:1–11 | John 21:1–14 | |
| Description of the body of water | Lake (λίμνη) | Sea (θάλασσα) |
| Those present | Only (Simon) Peter named | Other disciples named and numbered |
| The location of Jesus | In the boat | On the shore |
| The command of Jesus | Put out your into the deep and let down your nets’ (ἐπανάγαγε, χαλάσατε) | Cast your nets on the right side’ (βάλετε, δεξιὰ μέρη) |
| Result of the action | The nets were breaking (διερρήγνυτο) | They were not strong enough (οὐκ ἐσχίσθη) |
| Reaction | ‘I am a sinful man’ (ἡμαρτωλός εἰμι) | ‘It is the Lord!’ (ὁ κύριός ἐστιν) |
| Title for Jesus | ἐπιστάτα | κύριος |
| Commission | ‘You will be catching (ζωγρῶν) men’ | (none) |
| Meal | (none) | Bread and fish (ἄρτος καὶ ὀψάριον) |
| Fish count | (none) | 153 |
Noting these differences leads us to see the difference in the ‘surplus of meaning’ of the main event, the symbolic significance of the miraculous catch.
In Luke, the primary sense of the story is that the command of Jesus has led to a miracle—and it is this which then elicits the response of wonder and submission from Peter. To understand this fully, we need to recognise Luke’s description as a ‘use of a type scene familiar to readers of the LXX’. It mirrors the shape of the epiphany of God in Isaiah 6.1–10: epiphany; reaction; reassurance; commission.
[This] encourages the view that Peter recognises in Jesus the agency of God. As a consequence, Peter, aware of the profound status of this teacher-prophet, responds by falling at Jesus knees in humility and refer to himself as a sinner. (Joel Green, Luke NICNT, p 233)
The recognition of Jesus as Lord, the meaning of ‘sinner’, and issues of power are then developed throughout this gospel. But what is striking is how little is done with the symbolic significance of the catch itself. It is clearly connected with the ministry to which Peter (and the others) are called, by means of Jesus (apocalyptic) image of his followers ‘catching’ people. (For a fuller exploration of this episode, see this article.)
But just as the large catch is landed, and then simply left there for others to deal with (since Peter and his ‘partners’ leave everything), so Luke leaves this image lying around for others to work on.
Numerous attempts have been made to find symbolic, allegorical, and mythological meaning in this episode with reference to the size of the catch, the boats, and so on. Impetus for such views tends to originate from outside the text. (Green, Luke, p 232)
In a dramatic contrast, John tells us the number of fish that were caught—153 large fish. The shape of the narrative draws our attention to this number, since the report of the miraculous catch, and the mention of the number that Peter hauls ashore, form an inclusio around the recognition of and encounter with Jesus. Where Luke leaves his fish to sink without trace in his narrative, John hauls these fish up under our nose, and invites us to ‘cast our net into the deep’, fishing for as much symbolic meaning as we can find—and many have taken up the invitation.
The most comprehensive exploration of the number 153 can be found in Richard Bauckham’s essay on its role in demonstrating the unity of the Fourth Gospel (‘The 153 Fish and the Unity of the Fourth Gospel’ in Bauckham, The Testimony of the Beloved Disciple). Following his work on numerology in the Book of Revelation, Bauckham observes that 153 is a ‘triangular’ number, that is, it is the sum of all integers from 1 to 17, so that 153 pebbles can be arranged in an equilateral triangle of side 17. This connects with the vision in Ezekiel 47 of the life-giving stream that pours from the side of the eschatologically restored temple; fishermen will spread their nets from En-Gedi to En-Eglaim, and the gematria values of the names Gedi and Eglaim (גֶּ֙דִי֙ and עֶגְלַ֔יִם) respectively are 17 and 153. Thus this episode offers a theological connection with vision of Ezekiel which we would not have guessed from the plain reading of the narrative itself. And this connection is one that John has already made in recording Jesus’ claim that ‘streams of living water will flow from his [Jesus’] side’ in John 7.38, and the blood and water flowing from his crucified body in John 19.34.
Conclusion
Despite the assumption of the significant differences between Luke and John, there are many more connections that are often unrecognised. And we can see that Luke tells key parts of his narrative in such a way as to offer a ‘surplus of meaning’, so that, historiographical elements notwithstanding, they offer a symbolic significance.
But in both Luke and John, symbolisation leaves the events intact. Whether or not an action is symbolic is not something inherent in the action itself, but is a question which relates to the significance given to that action within the interpretive framework in which it is recalled. Symbolic acts do not find their symbolism primarily in their action, but in the interface between action, context, and interpretation. Was Jesus involved in action which had a wider significance beyond the immediate context in which it happened? Of course he was. Luke highlights such significance by means of placing such actions in a particular narrative framework and context. John highlights their significance by juxtaposing action with dialogue and by using vocabulary with double meanings in such a way as to present these actions as what we would call ‘symbolic.’
But there is a clear difference in the way in which the texts of the Third and Fourth Gospel affect their symbolic meaning. As Dunn comments (in The Oral Gospel Tradition, p 183):
John may have concluded that to bring out the full significance of Jesus’ mission he had to retell the tradition in bolder ways that brought out that significance more clearly.
To borrow another set of metaphors: in reading Luke, and understanding the symbolic meaning of his text, we often need to dig deep and drill down to narrative structures, use of vocabulary, and wider canonical resonances. By contrast, the symbolism of John is lying on the surface. It needs to be dug out and made use of, but this feels like open-cast mining in comparison with the deep shafts needed to bring Luke’s symbolic meanings to the surface.
This, in turn, offers us an important insight into the relationship between historicity and symbolism in the two gospels. For Luke, historical questions encountered across the text, marked out by the historiographical elements and language throughout the gospel. The symbolic significance of the text only comes to the fore as a result of this task of literary excavation, of exploring beneath the surface.
For John, the invitation to read symbolically is plain to see. But these symbolic invitations are closely juxtaposed with ‘reality effects’, elements that support the notion that John is writing on the basis of reliable eyewitness testimony. If the layering of history and symbolism is horizontal in Luke, then it is vertical in John, offering us a variegated pattern of symbol and history as we move through the text.
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Ian
I suggest an early indication of how historical detail interacts with symbolic meaning in the way that you describe can be found in Luke’s first chapter. I offer the following thoughts as to how this offers insights into his theological intentions for his gospel.
SYMBOLISM IN LUKE 1:5-20
Judah = Praise
John = given by the Lord
Zechariah = the Lord is renowned
Abijah = the Lord is my father
Elizabeth = God’s oath is sure
Aaron = enlightened
Israel = struggles with God, alternatively ‘called to rule with God’
Gabriel = the Strength of God
Elijah = the Lord is my God
So Luke 1:5-20 (abridged!)
“In the time of Herod, king of the “land of Praise”, there was a priest called “the Lord is renowned” of the priestly fellowship known as “the Lord is my Father”; his wife “God’s oath is sure” was herself a descendant of “Enlightened”.
“While serving the Lord in the most holy inner sanctum of the Lord’s house, the priest the Lord is renowned was visited by a heavenly messenger who told him – your wife God’s oath is sure will have a son whose name is to be Given by the Lord. He will turn many of the people of the nation Called to be ruling with God (or who struggle with God) back to the Lord their God, and he will serve the Lord in the spirit and power of the prophet “the Lord is my God” to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.
“The priest “the Lord is renowned” asked the angel ‘how can I be sure of this?’ The angel replied ‘I am called the Strength of God and I stand in the presence of God and I have been sent to speak to you.’ “
My contention is that this ‘background’ theological symbolism explains why Luke bothered to add in so many name details; he was very conscious of the underlying symbolism that we miss.
Thanks for these reflections, Ian. I’m rather partial to the classic work on Luke by I Howard Marshall, Luke: Historian and Theologian. It was, perhaps one of the first serious exegetical works I read as a student, so I was easily convinced then! On the other hand, Marshall was no slouch. (Yes, and neither is Goodacre…) Anyway, thanks. And I’m always glad to see 153 getting a workover!
Yes, nice to get that number out again!
PS could you use both your names when posting, as per guidelines. Thanks
Ian
Dependence of Luke on Matthew or vice versa ? My assumption would be the two guys actually met, talked together, discussed Mark (or some form of proto-Mark), while Luke was doing his research. Because academics work from written texts, they fall into the fallacious assumption the gospel writers did the same. The early NT community was – in relative terms – a small tight knit but growing community – where travelling evangelists knew each other, talked together, took witnesses with them on their travels. Mark & Matthew’s preaching notes fed into their written ‘gospels’. Luke in his research project met with them both, inter-acted with them and other witnesses. Anyone who was around the UK charismatic scene in the 1970/80’s should have a good gut feel for how the travelling evangelist culture and rapid interchange of both testimony and theology was working in those days; the early church dynamics would be similar.
Yes, I am sure you are right.
I look forward to reading Mark Goodacre’s book. But ISTM that *most* arguments of ‘Text A clearly depends on Text B’ lack any proper method in how they determine direction of influence.
I think the miraculous catch episode highlights that.
Yes, that lack of method is never justifiable or necessary. Strong criteria such as the ones I sent you from Tyndale 2019 can be worked out, not least on the basis of relations where we actually know the direction of influence and the patterns that transpire in those.
Added to which the macro patterns, on which Cribbs is very good, are better evidence than the micro, though a lot of scholarship has prioritied the latter.
[prioritised]
As I wrote for a Bible Study on Ephesians over twenty years ago:
Some commentators talk as if Paul wrote all his letters in complete isolation. All the letters we know were written with a secretary [or, quite possibly, by his secretary – which was still modern business practice, when I worked in a large international company in the 1970s]. Paul was always surrounded by a team of co-workers (e.g.: Phil. 4.3, also a ‘prison epistle’) including, of course, at least two other prominent authors: Luke and John Mark. Whether Paul accepted all their suggestions may be doubted, but that they never commented and that their comments never influenced Paul in any way, I, at least, find impossible to believe!
Whether Luke knew Matthew I am not sure (the absence of significant overlap in the birth narratives might suggest not, but Luke’s ruthless editing out of anything that doesn’t suit his purpose at that point could explain it). However, that Luke knew Mark is clear from Philemon 1.24, and if Mark was a huperetes as in Luke 1.2 ‘ministers of the Word’ then his (/Peter’s) gospel could already have been available (or being compiled) while Philemon, Colossians, and (?) Ephesians were being written. (See C P Thiede ‘World of Jesus’, e.g. pp 111… & 154…).
In any scenario Frank Booth’s general point is reinforced. All these guys (& gals) either knew each other or knew someone who did.
Richard, that is a fascinating spot about Philemon 1.24 and the implications for gospel composition. I had missed that! And the possibility that Mark is amongst the huperetes is intriguing!
Exactly – they knew each other or knew someone who did. Mark wrote when Peter had died (Papias said he wrote down all he could remember but Peter was not available to put it in chronological order), and his gospel shouts year-71 in various ways. Matthew and Luke may or may not have known each other (Rome, where Luke was, was a centre where the existing Christian literature was known; and Matthew seems to have known a great deal of it) but they are writing at a time when the main eyewitnesses are all gone (something which had even proved an issue for Mark in 71-72 – see above). The differences between Matthew and Luke are mostly wording, emphasis, and different OT templates. They are not checking with each other re what happened, since those who knew that best either have already written or are dead. As James Bejon says (an earlier psephizo item) the birth-narrative differences are according to which OT patterns are in mind for Matt and for Luke. As for Luke knowing Matthew, he must have, as Q is not only a wildly uneconomical hypothesis but also has nothing in its favour anyway in the first place. The relationship between them is certainly that way round because otherwise Matthew would have had (motiveless) to identify, unpick, and hide successfully every single scrap of Luke’s Deuteronomy and Elijah redactions – we are talking about 100 contexts. Whereas the alternative (that these are redactions of, and additions to, Matthew) is simple.
Ian [blank]
Very facinating, I wonder if the Holy Spirit had any infuence
on Luke’s thinking and writing, after all He did seem to have some
imput into the Prophets, Poets and Prieists of the OT Scriptures.
Perhaps that might be why the Jews missed Jesus, not recognizing the symbolisms? Perhaps due to chastening blindness?
It would be encouraging for the saints that the kingdom and church are thus founded on the Apostles and Prophets as later
promulgated. shalom.
Thank you for ending the article explaining that “symbolism” means revealing (or pointing to) the significance of historical actions. Very helpful for lay readers like myself.
Thanks John—glad it was helpful. There is a long history of scholarship pitting the one against the other—quite needlessly as far as I can see.
Road signs are symbols, that are drawn from and point to an existing reality, which may yet be unseen.
They are not metaphors nor allegories, though they are allusions, alluding to what is.
On the broader significance of symbols
AI comments on why the bible uses symbols
“To reveal and conceal truth: Sometimes symbols are used to teach spiritual concepts more clearly than words alone can, while other times they can hide certain principles from those who are not yet prepared to hear them”.
The Scriptures are replete with symbolisms, not only in the Gospels.
For explorers, see Tim Young@ Heartstone Journey
Why God Uses Symbols To Communicate To Us
OR
Michael J. Glodo, Reformed Theological Seminary (RTS) Orlando
@ thirdmill.org The Benefits of the Bible’s Imagery and Metaphors
Shalom.
When do differences become contradictions?
Jesus is the Lion and the Lamb. It is not a contradiction.
Or, he is fully man and fully God.
Differences and Contradictions are ok ok….people see, hear and experience differently and receive things in different ways. Two people have different experiences of the same situation.
At times they recall it slightly differently. And that is ok. You think all the male disciples will remember Jesus exactly the same as the ladies there? Or that his mother would recount things the same as John? Even though she went to Ephesus with him and they will have chatted loads. If there were no differences then you’d worry.
Peter Parker
November 5, 2025 at 10:54 pm
An interesting Philosophical/Psychological statement you make
One may have a forensic analytical perspective,
Or one may have a global view of a topic,
both can be complementary.
One might be speculative and imaginative
Another might wonder why use symbols at all ?
I was prompted to pursue the latter yesterday
with great enjoyment and deeper insights , of which
blessings I pray might be the lot of all the saints.
See
https://ehrmanblog.org/the-difference-between-differences-and-contradictions/
The semiotics involved in each experience recalled, might take years to become fully understood by a witness if at all…and a fisherman’s response to Jesus using fish and boats and nets and such to teach him will be enhanced by his using those very things he knows well. Peter the fisherman might literally drown at sea as a fisherman in a storm. The imagery couldn’t be more real. A historical witness statement becomes way more than that when added with three years of other symbols and signs and experiences. With God inspiring which symbols get mentioned and which don’t, The Holy Spirit is creating the whole for all generations. One has to wonder how much of the whole was understood as such by the individual men writing some of what they knew. Two days ago God gave me a desire to do a particular mundane task; which I did. The following day a storm came. The day after- today- I realised why he had had me do that particular task. He was protecting me. And defending me. The thing two days ago appeared to be nothing much. In the storm it was not even given a thought. Then in the calm afterwards God’s motive and thinking became clear….after the main events. Don’t credit writers with too much cleverness when they are writing for God. It tends to be God himself that has made it happen the way it has- at the time and later, when its recorded.
On “contradiction”.
The Bible is full of contradiction. So we need to get used to it and understand how it works. God created the Hebraic culture and language as His ideal medium to express His Divine nature. The Hebraic thought process loves and glories in contradictions. Biblical truth both rests in and wrestles with (there’s another contradiction for you !) the tension of contradiction.
Some of the most significant words in scripture reflect that tension of contradiction.
There is the “and yet” of Exodus 34:7; arguably the hinge on which much or most OT theology swings. Or the “until” of Psalm 110:1; which informed and drove the NT mission.
[It is not often recognised that Ps 110:1 was the most oft quoted and therefore arguably the most (or one of the most) influential OT scriptures for the NT community.]
Hebraic thinking welcomes mystery, ambiguity and contradiction, in ways which Western thinking struggles to comprehend. Until we do, we are poorer in our Biblical understanding.
As believers we are fully human, yet in some sense we have been touched (even ‘invaded’) by the Divine. We wrestle (at least Paul did and I certainly do) with the tension of that contradiction all our lives.