It’s likely the case that John’s original audience saw no contradiction between John’s Last Supper chronology and the chronology of the other Gospels because they understood the way terms were used interchangeably in their day. Unfortunately, for modern readers who are unaware of the context, John’s language can sometimes be misunderstood to represent a different chronology than the Synoptics. 

Close readers of the Gospels understand that John’s timeline of the Last Supper seems to differ from the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke). The Synoptics indicate that the disciples prepared the Passover meal “on the first day of Unleavened Bread,” or Thursday night (Mark 14:12; see also Matt. 26:17; Luke 22:7). Judas went out to betray Him that evening, and Jesus was arrested in the night. He was then crucified on Friday. He was in the grave until Sunday morning, on which day He was raised from the dead.
Yet John says this after the Last Supper had occurred, when the Jews went to Pilate’s headquarters: “They themselves did not enter the governor’s headquarters, so that they would not be defiled, but could eat the Passover” (John 18:28). He then later says, after Jesus was crucified, that “it was the day of Preparation of the Passover” (John 19:14). This means that Jesus’ arrest and trial would have happened before Passover, unlike in the Synoptics, where Jesus’ arrest and trial happened after Passover.
Is this a contradiction? It seems that way on first reading. Various solutions have been offered to resolve this seeming contradiction. Some have argued that Jesus celebrated the Passover according to a different calendar in use at this time, such as according to a special Pharisaic calendar. Yet there is little evidence in the Gospels or historical records to validate such a view. Others have argued that Jesus wasn’t celebrating a Passover meal, but rather a different but related festival meal. The trouble with this argument is that one is left with the opposite problem—John’s chronology makes sense, but the Synoptics’ chronology doesn’t. The plain meaning of the synoptic Gospels indicates that Jesus was celebrating the Passover meal.
There is a final view that seems most biblically justified and understandable to me, but it requires some explanation. The first thing to understand is that Passover was simply a meal that began on the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread, which went for several days. Western Christians don’t often celebrate multiday holidays, but many in other cultures do. The Feast of Unleavened Bread was a week-long feast. It was one of several national celebrations for the Jews. It reminded them of their liberation from Egypt and God’s preservation of His people in the wilderness years. Passover kicked it all off, just like the original Passover kicked off Israel’s liberation from Egypt and led to the wilderness years and the promised land.
Read More
Related Posts:

How can we say that man has inherent dignity (the image of God) and yet at the same time he is a terrible sinner—worthless (total depravity)? Isn’t he either the former or the latter? The answer to this false dilemma is simply “yes.” We are both. Man is far above all other creatures (Ps. 8:5); he is “wonderful” (Ps. 139:14) and “beautiful” (Prov. 20:29). No other creature has the honor of being created in the image of God (Gen. 1:27). But he has also fallen very far. 

I was sitting in a college history class many years ago. My professor asked for a show of hands: “How many of you believe man is basically good?” Most people raised their hands. “How many of you believe man is basically bad?” Two or three people raised their hands, including me. I looked around somewhat perplexed; my Calvinist upbringing put me at odds with almost everyone. Yet when I look back, something was wrong.
More recently, a young man who attended a Bible study I was leading asked me a question. During one study, I mentioned that God considered human beings valuable enough to save; otherwise, He wouldn’t have sent His Son to die for people. I said we have inherent dignity; there’s a worthwhileness about us. This young man came up to me after the study, confused. He quoted Romans 3:12:
All have turned aside; together they have become worthless;no one does good,not even one.
He respectfully asked how I could say that humans are worthwhile if the Bible tells us we’re worthless. I was thrown off guard, because I could see how I appeared to be directly contradicting Scripture. A plain, surface-level reading of Romans 3:12 led him to believe that men and women are worthless. God saved dirty rags (Isa. 64:6), trash (1 Sam. 2:8), worms (Job 25:6; Ps. 22:6). Who are we to think of ourselves as worthwhile at all?
I realized in reflecting afterward that I had found myself caught on the horns of a false dilemma, but to understand the dilemma, we need to think about our historical context.
Total Depravity
It’s our inheritance as Protestants to think of ourselves as sinners, incapable of willing spiritual good. This was the underlying logic of Martin Luther’s despair as he went through the repetitious cycle of the Roman Catholic sacramental system. He realized he would never measure up; he would never stop sinning in this life; his sin went so deep that he could never confess or do enough to merit salvation. He had a sober understanding of who he was before God, and this led him to be awed by the grace made apparent in the revelation of God’s righteousness (Rom. 1:17). He realized that God’s saving righteousness was Jesus Christ, and God stoops to save sinners. Therefore, when we throw ourselves on the mercy of God exhibited in the infinite grace freely given to us in our Lord Jesus Christ, then we experience the joy of salvation—by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone. It’s no wonder that Protestants sing “Amazing Grace” with gusto.
Luther, however, lived in an age permeated by Christian thought. Protestants and Roman Catholics didn’t argue that we were made in the image of God. That was a given; the question was: How far did we fall? Did we simply lose a certain grace that was divinely imparted to us so that we now stand in a somewhat neutral position before God (as Roman Catholic doctrine asserts)? Or did we fall so far that now we’re unable to will true spiritual good apart from the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit (as classical Protestantism asserts)?
Read More
Related Posts:

I trained to be a lifeguard at a camp one summer when I was younger. I passed most of the tests, but there was one test where we had to tread water while holding a heavy weight for a few minutes. It was difficult, and I couldn’t do it. I gave up. I remember quitting and feeling like a failure. Adult life likewise brings no shortage of things that prompt us to give up, that make us feel like we’re just treading water. This world can be discouraging in its sin and brokenness.
The prophet Elijah gave up. He’d just achieved a monumental victory in serving the Lord by defying King Ahab and the false prophets on Mount Carmel. God had sent down fire to consume the sacrifice of Elijah, while the prophets of Baal had spent all day crying out to their impotent god. It was a time for supreme confidence, but that confidence was only momentary for Elijah. Queen Jezebel heard about what happened and swore to kill Elijah (1 Kings 19:2). What did Elijah do in response? He ran for his life down to Judah. He even left his servant behind and went into the wilderness—near the same wilderness in which Jesus was tempted. He had to get away. He sat down and said, “It is enough; now, O LORD, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers” (1 Kings 19:4).
Elijah made a death wish: “Take away my life.” Have you ever made a death wish? Perhaps you haven’t made one out loud, but I think many of us have quietly wished we were dead in moments of desperation. I don’t mean suicidal; nor do I mean that we’re simply wishing for heaven. I mean we wish things were over. Done with. We’re tired of suffering, faltering, and struggling. We wish we could leave the trials and difficulties of this life behind. We just want to die.
When Elijah asked the Lord to take away his life because he was no better than his fathers, did he mean he couldn’t continue to live up to the calling of a prophet? Did he mean he recognized his human weakness, and it was simply not enough? Did he mean he couldn’t turn the hearts of the Israelites back to the Lord? It’s not clear. Maybe it was just a cry of desperation that didn’t have a strong grounding in any fact. It’s an expletive, as we might say, “I can’t take it anymore!” Whatever the case, Elijah fell asleep in the middle of the wilderness. But lo and behold, verses 5–7 tell us that an angel showed up. He touched Elijah and told him to get up and eat. In front of him was a baked cake with water. He slept again, and the angel came again with food and water. God gave him strength.

Just because we believe God’s Word and pray about it doesn’t mean that we’re immediately given comprehensive understanding of Scripture. We have to adopt wise ways of approaching the text. So, to start, we should read in context. We shouldn’t forget what came before the section we’re reading.

The Bible is a big book. It can be intimidating to read, so many of us prefer reading books about the Bible. And if we do read the Bible, we can sometimes treat it like a mere instruction manual. We use it if needed, but otherwise we try to do things ourselves. It reminds me of trying to put together IKEA furniture without a manual. Unfortunately, as many of us have experienced, the instruction manual needs to be respected and read properly. Otherwise, our furniture may look disjointed in the end. Things are similar with the Bible. Failing to read it properly can lead to all kinds of trouble.
As we know of course, the Bible is much grander than any IKEA instruction manual. It’s a book with heights and depths, poetry and prose. Reading it requires even more purposefulness than reading other books. As I’ve read the Bible over the course of my life, here are a few things I’ve learned that have helped in my understanding it.
Believe. It’s important to remember that understanding the Bible requires faith. We have to believe it. Augustine challenged us, “Believe so that you may understand.” Augustine said those words because he himself never properly understood the Bible until he believed. The Bible is much like polarized lenses that fishermen use. Without polarized lenses, the water has an intense glare. But with polarized lenses, one can see into the water. The Bible requires faith for us to see its depths.
Pray and meditate. Prayer is often an afterthought, but we can’t understand anything spiritual unless God helps us and reveals it to us. We may have faith, but we still need help. We should pray that the Holy Spirit will help us understand His Word. As we pray, we remember our dependence on God for insight and wisdom. We should also take our time to meditate on God and His Word as we move through Scripture. Just like it takes time for a tree’s root system to soak up water, so our souls need time to be nourished by God’s Word.
Read More