Sevenfold Yahweh

The logic behind Jesus’ seven “I am” statements in John is not immediately apparent. This is because each step is the solution to a problem.

The fact that John records seven statements in a book that is filled with liturgical and architectural allusions to the Torah indicates a purpose not only in their content but also in the order of the sequence. It has been observed that the arrangement works from bread to wine, which is a very good observation, but the means of getting from bread to wine via the steps in between does seem to be a strange one.

The seven statements do not seem to align obviously with any familiar pattern—not even the sevenfold sequence of Genesis 1. But the key word here is obviously. God loves mysteries, riddles, and hiding Easter eggs, and He uses them to engage, teach, and delight His children. And, as is the case with all divine riddles, cracking this one reveals something far deeper, wider and higher than we might have anticipated.

Jesus identifies Himself as the promised one in other places in John’s Gospel: “I… am He” to the Samaritan woman (John 4:26), “It is I” to the terrified disciples (John 6:20), and another “I am He” to His followers (John 13:19). But it is the “I am” statements, as an allusion to the name of God given to Moses to describe the source of his delegated authority, that changed the game in the eyes of the Jews. Jesus was not just a prophet (Hebrews 1:1-2), nor even merely the Prophet (Deuteronomy 18:15; John 1:21; Acts 3:22). The one speaking to them was the actual Word, that unutterable name which five centuries earlier had been deemed so precious that the Jews even refrained from saying it aloud.

That name, Yahweh, was “extended” in various ways to describe God’s relationship to His people—Jehovah Jireh (the Lord, My Provider), Jehovah Rapha (the Lord Heals), Jehovah Nissi (the Lord, My Banner), Jehovah Shalom, (the Lord, Our Peace), Jehovah Raah (the Lord, My Shepherd), and others. By this means, the “I am” of mere existence reached out from “being” to “knowing” and “doing.” God Himself was a faithful doer of the Word, and His representatives were to image Him in ways that went beyond outward glory, the trappings of kingdom.

The first three chapters of Genesis describe the establishment of the physical order (being), the social order (knowing), and the ethical order (doing). These three “domains” correspond to the persons of the Trinity. So when Jesus adds things from the created order to a name that merely communicates existence, He is doing what He did during the actual creation: the Word finds its expression through love (knowing) but also through good works (doing), that is, deeds that give glory to God. This includes the creation or construction of types and symbols, such as building a tabernacle, a house, or even a household for God as the place for trysts between heaven and earth. That which is invisible is glorified in that which is visible. The Word becomes flesh and is robed in righteousness. Just so, God creates the Man as a tabernacle for the Spirit, and the Spirit “gathers” and “constructs” the Bride. This “glory” factor distinguishes the faithful worshiper from the idolater in the realm of the works of Man, the created creator.

For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse. For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man and birds and animals and creeping things. (Romans 1:20-23)

The ethical response of the Man begins the completion of the covenant chiasm, working from doing via knowing back to being, but with the wisdom and/or plunder gained from the trial. This is why we can see the pattern of Genesis 1-5 in the Torah:

This pattern takes things from mere being (existing) to a more glorious mode of being, as pictured in the imagery of the progression from priestly bread (mere survival: what we need) to kingly wine (a glorious life: what we desire).¹ Adam’s theft was a shortcut from bread to wine, the priestly tree to the kingly tree, without the required ethical submission to God. Due to Adam’s failure, the “greater” social order was corrupted and hijacked in Genesis 4 (notice that the acts of unholy bloodshed by human “gods” multiply the holy cutting of Adam in the symmetry), and the “greater” physical order is a lineage of deaths ending with only a promise of “rest” in Noah, the bringer of rest to the entire Creation.

Interestingly, and ironically, the only man in the list who evaded the Adamic sentence of death was Enoch, whose lifespan was a “year” of years (365 years). He walked with God and was not, for God took him. The Hebrew ayin (to be not) is a negation of hayah (to be). It is the “un-I-am.” As the Firstfruits of the symbolic annual harvest cycle that structures the history from Adam to Noah (with the Great Flood as the Day of Coverings/Atonement), Enoch not only prefigured the Levitical priesthood as the “Day 3” fruit bearers of a heavenly country, but also the “taking” of Christ as the legal representative whose new leaven would make holy the entire “batch” (Romans 11:16).² What does this imply? That for Jesus to be the “I am” in an even greater sense, He had to become the “un-I-am,” divesting Himself of visible glory while He was placed in the crucible of the Law. The incarnation removed from Him the glorious garb of the created order in the same way that the High Priest removed his “all creation” garments of glory and humbled himself dressed in priestly linen. This was the macrocosm of Jesus removing His robe to wash His disciples’ feet. Then divested even of His followers, His “social” glory, it was His ethical glory—the glory that truly pleases the Father—that would alone be allowed to shine.

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. (John 1:14)

This is why Jesus’ entire life and ministry keeps toggling between “being not” and “being,” from disappearing to appearing, from being taken to being given anew, from the Word being hidden in the heart of the earth to the bold testimony of Jesus’ resurrection, from being veiled in flesh to being revealed from heaven.³ His “reappearances” from Egypt as an infant and from the Temple as a teenager were signs of His future “comings.” The Greek parousia combines the concepts of presence and motion in the same way that the hayah of Yahweh is to be or to become. “I am” is eternal, however it is not static but dynamic; it is not death but life, and thus a mode of being which is continuous, and continually fruitful. Thus, even our “eternal state” will not be “static.” It will not be a museum-like freeze-frame glory achieved through the eradication of corruption (effectively an “is not,” a mere negation of something), but a glorious existence of endless, joyous activity (a wondrously productive “is,” to the glory of God).⁴

Living—even for God—is a continual mode of heavenly succession, pictured in the earthy “land and womb” (food and offspring) promises of historical continuity made to Adam and to Abraham. To bring the abundant life to all men, the Greater Adam must bear the fruitlessness of Lesser Adam—bereft of house and household—in the same way that Abraham was given a barren land and a barren womb in order that the Gentiles might multiply.

(As it is written, I have made thee a father of many nations,) before him whom he believed, even God, who quickeneth the dead, and calleth those things which be not as though they were. (Romans 4:17, KJV)

So the Jews said to him, “You are not yet fifty years old, and have you seen Abraham?” Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I am.” So they picked up stones to throw at him, but Jesus hid himself and went out of the temple. (John 8:57-59)

Instead, Jesus inherited a greater household from the rulers of the day—the oikoumene—as the firstfruits of His dominion over the entire world, as well as a dynasty of innumerable spiritual sons (Hebrews 2:13). The “I am” was impossibly cut off as an “un-I-am” for the sake of greater glory than that which He had willingly forfeited.

In this way, the invisible becomes visible. The Lord, although never absent in an “ethical” sense, hides Himself in a cloud of thick darkness that Adam might have a chance to shine—even on Golgotha. Those who scoff at the Master’s apparent absence—whether it be God in the Garden, Moses on the mountain, or Jesus in heaven, will come to understand that the “is not” was only ever a means to an even greater “I am.” The one who took Enoch eventually came to take the ark. The one who took Christ to heaven eventually came in the same way for those who patiently waited for their promised inheritance (Acts 1:11). This vindication is the whole point of Hebrews 11, a hall of fame that includes Enoch, Noah, and Abraham, men who, as mediating veils of flesh, turned “not” to “is,” “un-I-am” to “I really am” in the way that God does.

By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible… By faith Enoch was taken up so that he should not see death, and he was not found, because God had taken him. Now before he was taken he was commended as having pleased God. And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him. (Hebrews 11:3, 5-6)

This exact pattern—from being to greater being—makes sense of the promises inherent in the name changes of the patriarchs. It also explains the ultimate purpose of God for Job, whom He took from glory to greater glory via suffering. And it is the deep structure of what is arguably the most famous verse in the Bible, John 3:16.

That the Word would become flesh in order to be “perfected” (matured) and glorified as the true firstborn among many brothers (like Joseph) (Romans 8:29) is itself an image of the nature of the Father. Just as it was impossible that the omniscient Son became “uninformed” that His faith might be tested, and His body pierced, so also it is impossible that the immutable God bears eternally the novel addition of a Man to His glory. The Son was taken that He might be eternally given, and the God of covenants is Himself willing to be marked—to be changed in order to show Himself unchangeable. God Himself becomes the miracle of our salvation.

All of this serves as a backdrop, the scope of which is beyond our comprehension, for these seven pithy “I am” statements of Jesus. Since they take us from bread to wine, they communicate a pattern of transformation from priestly humility to kingly glory. This means that the intermediate steps somehow communicate knowing, doing, and greater knowing. It turns out that they do indeed recapitulate the pattern of Genesis 1, but in the way that this pattern was represented in the elements of the Tabernacle of Moses. As is usual, the fivefold pattern becomes sevenfold through the expansion of the Ethics step into the three offices represented by the elements in the Holy Place: Priesthood (hearing God), Kingdom (acting for God), and Prophecy (speaking for God).

Yet, even this keyhole does not unlock the door to the “method” in the apparent “madness.” As with human history, God draws straight with crooked lines. Why is the light of Day 1 at Day 2? Why is the Exodus door at Leviticus? Why is the bread of the Table in the Ark step? The reason why the recapitulation is not obvious is that each step is a deliberate addition to, change to, or inversion of a piece of furniture. Why? Because when the priesthood died, there was necessarily a change of the Law (Joshua 20:1-6; Hebrews 7:12). The actual key is the fact that, in “tabernacling” among us (John 1:14), Jesus removed the necessity for an actual Tabernacle or Temple.

In each step, Christ provides a solution to an Adamic/Old Testament problem, and this becomes more apparent if we add the annual festal calendar from Leviticus 23, which follows the same pattern:

1. Ark – The Word of God feeds man instead of killing him like the Law (Sabbath)
2. Veil – Christ would tear it open and end the darkness and blindness of spiritual Egypt (Passover)
3. Altar & Table – Death is now a door for those who are living sacrifices (Firstfruits)
4. Lampstand – The tyranny of the rulers of Jerusalem would be replaced by humble, holy priest-kingdom (Pentecost)
5. Incense – The disciples who lived in fear of death would fear no more, and they became bold in testimony as martyrs (Trumpets)
6. Mediators – The divided offices were now united in the cross (including Jew and Gentile) and the Levitical obligations were obsolete (Atonement)
7. Shekinah – Vineyards speak of wine but also of inheritance (like Eshcol in Canaan), fulfilling the final “blessing” promised in Abraham (Booths)

The fact that the entire cycle works from bread to wine puts this sevenfold solution itself on the table as spiritual food. Having satisfied the demands of the Bronze Altar, Jesus turned Cain’s sword back into a plowshare by giving us Abel’s flesh and blood as bread and wine. Every Lord’s Day, the one taken by God (the “un-I-am”) is given back to us forever.

If you are new to this method of interpretation, please visit the Welcome page for some help to get you up to speed.

1. See James B. Jordan, From Bread to Wine: Creation, Worship, and Christian Maturity.
2. See Why was Enoch taken?
3. See Jesus’ Three Ascensions.
4. For more discussion, see Educating Jesus and The Eternal Perfection of the Son.