The learned are not agreed as to the time when the Gospel of John

In the measured and reverent words of Simon Greenleaf, the esteemed jurist and scholar of Scripture, we hear a reflection not only upon history, but upon the timeless mystery of truth itself: “The learned are not agreed as to the time when the Gospel of John was written; some dating it as early as the year 68, others as late as the year 98; but it is generally conceded to have been written after all the others.” Though it appears as a simple statement of scholarship, this sentence carries a weight far deeper than its surface. It speaks to the uncertainty that accompanies human knowledge, the humility required of the seeker of truth, and the enduring light of revelation that transcends even the boundaries of time.

The Gospel of John, the last and most profound of the four Gospels, stands as a pillar of spiritual vision — a gospel not of lineage or chronology, but of divine mystery. Where Matthew, Mark, and Luke recount the deeds and parables of Christ, John gazes beyond the events of earth to reveal the eternal nature of the Word made flesh. Its voice is contemplative, its tone cosmic, its purpose not to record history alone, but to unveil eternity. Thus, it is fitting that even the time of its writing should remain uncertain. For the truth that John revealed was not bound to any year, but to the timeless pulse of the divine spirit within humankind.

When Greenleaf writes that “the learned are not agreed,” he touches upon one of the oldest and noblest struggles in human understanding — that wisdom is often found in disagreement. The search for truth is not a straight road, but a path of debate, discovery, and humility. The scholars who place the Gospel of John in the year 68 see it as a voice close to the events of the early Church, still echoing the immediacy of those who had walked beside Christ. Those who date it near 98 see it as the work of reflection — the matured vision of an aged apostle, one who had lived long enough to see the rise of faith and the shadows of doubt. Both views carry beauty, for one speaks of fervor, the other of wisdom.

The origin of Greenleaf’s reflection lies in his own transformation — a man of law who, through the rigorous discipline of evidence and testimony, became convinced of the truth of the Gospel he once studied with skepticism. He approached Scripture not as a mystic, but as an advocate weighing witness and proof. Yet in that very process, he found himself encountering something beyond reason: the living truth that cannot be confined to paper or date. Thus, his note on the uncertain time of John’s Gospel becomes more than historical — it becomes symbolic. For truth, he saw, is not confined to when it was written, but to why it was written: to reveal the eternal light that “shines in the darkness, and the darkness comprehended it not.”

The Gospel of John itself bears the marks of this eternal mystery. In its opening, the words rise like a hymn to creation: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Such lines belong to no single century; they are the breath of timeless revelation. Whether written in 68 or 98, they are equally alive today — as if each generation must rediscover them anew. This uncertainty of dating, then, becomes a gift, not a flaw — a reminder that divine truth stands outside the boundaries of man’s chronology.

We see a similar lesson in the history of the ancient prophets. Many of their writings, too, are shrouded in uncertain authorship and dating. Yet this very ambiguity has protected their power. When knowledge is too precise, the mind closes; when mystery remains, the spirit awakens. Greenleaf’s statement, though factual, thus invites contemplation: that perhaps what matters is not the exact hour the Gospel was penned, but that it was written at all — that across the shifting ages of Rome and empire, through persecution and exile, one man still bore witness to the light he had seen.

Let this be the lesson: truth is not weakened by uncertainty, nor holiness diminished by debate. The dates of sacred writings may fade, the names of scholars may differ, but the light of wisdom remains. For the measure of a revelation is not its precision, but its power to endure. When you seek understanding, do not demand certainty before you begin — for in the quest itself, you may find what is eternal.

Action to take: approach knowledge with both mind and heart. Study as the learned, question as the skeptic, but listen as the believer. Let mystery humble you, not trouble you. For as Simon Greenleaf discovered, the truth of sacred things does not lie in knowing whether the Gospel of John was written in 68 or 98, but in knowing that its message — the triumph of light over darkness — still speaks today, beyond all centuries, to all who seek it.