To construct a Johannine spatial–theological framework, grounded in the Prologue (Jn 1:1–18) and informed by Thirdspace theory, that addresses violence against older persons in Africa through transformative Christian scholarship and praxis.

Before engaging the inter-textual analysis, it is essential to undertake a concise examination of the opening–middle–closing inner texture in order to establish the Johannine argument as grounded in the Prologue (Jn 1:1–18).

While the repetitive-progressive pattern emerges from word analysis, the opening-middle-closing texture is a product of exploring this pattern. Understanding the opening, middle and closing of a text aids the task of analysing inner-texture by revealing how the parts relate to the whole and how rhetorical effects are produced. According to Robbins (1996:72–75), to achieve the goals of opening-middle-closing analysis, interpreters should: (1) correlate sub-units with the overall unit to explain their rhetorical function in relation to each other; and (2) bear in mind that the purpose of such analysis is to discern the persuasive effects of the various parts and how they operate together within the text.

Some critical questions guide this process: (1) What is the nature of the opening of a unit or passage in relation to its closure? How do topics at the beginning relate to those at the end? (2) What is the nature of the topics that replace the initial topics? (3) Is there repetition connecting the beginning, middle, and end? Or (4) is repetition limited to a particular section? and (5) What is the function of each part in relation to the whole passage? The value of opening-middle-closing analysis in socio-rhetorical interpretation lies in preparing the interpreter for a detailed examination of narrational and argumentative texture (Robbins 1996, 19–20; M’bwangi 2019, 33–34). Robbins’ (1996) opening–middle–closing inner-texture analysis clarifies how John 1:1–18 rhetorically constructs communal identity, supporting Gharbin and Van Eck’s (2022:1–9) claim that the Prologue functions as a hermeneutical key to Johannine community formation.

Robbins’ opening–middle–closing inner-texture analysis reveals the Prologue’s persuasive design: it constructs a symbolic universe in which the Johannine community understands itself as:

In Exploring the Texture of Texts (1996), defining ‘cultural intertexture’, Robbins (1996) contends that:

This definition situates cultural intertexture as the mode by which texts interact with cultural norms, scripts, values and shared systems of meaning beyond the text. Such cultural intertexture functions as a way of hearing how texts implicitly reference cultural-ideological understandings of power, space and identity.

In the 1st-century Jewish and Roman world, cultural intertexture allows interpreters to track how texts such as the Gospel of John engage and reconfigure prevailing cultural patterns of hierarchy (Roman or Pharisaic), territoriality (imperial and Temple spaces) and communal identity (Jewish or Greco-Roman notions of belonging). Scholars have shown that communal self-understanding in dialogue with broader societal structures shapes narrative constructions of communal and individual identity (Klaasen 2020:3). Consequently, early Jewish and Christian writers negotiated imperial spatial and identity formations as they articulated community boundaries within Roman territorial orders (Van Groeningen 2025:1,6–7). Likewise, Carter (2011) argues through intertextual analysis that the Gospel of John reworks Jewish festivals to resist Roman imperial ideology, constructing communal identity and theological distance from dominant boundaries of power structures’ with ‘Likewise, Carter (2011:1,4–7) argues through cultural intertextual analysis that John’s presentation of Jewish festivals contests Roman imperial and Ephesian civic-religious ideology, thereby shaping communal identity and encouraging distance from dominant structures of power.

Using cultural intertexture, Robbins examines how a text reuses, echoes, alludes to or imitates prior oral, scribal, cultural or social traditions, often through reconfiguration and reconceptualisation to serve new persuasive ends. This includes oral-scribal intertexture (echoes of sacred texts), cultural intertexture (reworking broader cultural scripts like social norms or spatial ideologies) and social intertexture (reordering roles or relations). Furthermore, Robbins observes that ‘cultural intertexture is present when the text contains data that could be known only to people who are “insiders” in a particular culture. Robbins (1996) observes that:

This tenet of Robbins’ cultural intertexture elaborates the 1st-century Jewish and Roman contexts by highlighting how the Johannine text reconfigures insider cultural knowledge related to power (hierarchical authority), space (territorial and sacred domains) and identity (communal belonging and exclusion), thereby subverting dominant ideologies to promote a relational theology. The Johannine Gospel (especially the Prologue, Jn 1:1–18) and some segments of the narrative (5:24–29; 8:12; 10:10; 13:34–35; 15:9–17; 14:23) employ these modes to decontextualise (subvert and relocate) 1st-century spatial discourses reflected in Spec. Laws 2.44, Ant. 20.181–183, De Re Rustica 1.3.8, and Ann. 15.44.

Greco-Roman and Jewish sources characteristically construe space – whether land, Temple, city or even the human body – as hierarchically ordered and normatively structured. Such spaces are valued and accorded honour primarily based on productivity and purity, while those perceived to be unproductive and vulnerable are marginalised or excluded, all within frameworks legitimised by divine or imperial authority.

In Special Laws 2.44, Philo of Alexandria associates honour and social hierarchy with divinely ordained productivity, presenting virtue and contemplation as forms of fruitful Labour (Philo of Alexandria 1993:2.44, Loeb Classical Library). Golden necklaces, rings and other ornaments are not merely decorative; such adornments symbolise rank, virtue and social standing. From the perspective of Robbins’ (1996:59) cultural intertexture, such representations evoke embedded Jewish-Hellenistic conceptions of power and identity, in which space is imagined as a divinely structured hierarchy that marginalises those deemed unproductive. Within this cultural framework, the Johannine narrative can be read as reconfiguring these insider assumptions, transforming hierarchical spatial ideology into a counter-narrative that envisions divine dwelling as radically inclusive rather than exclusionary.

Josephus (Ant. 20.181–183) observation ‘… send their servants into the threshing-floors, to take away those tithes that were because of the priests’ (Josephus 1987:Ant. 20.181–183, Loeb Classical Library) reflects crisis-era exclusion, describing how high priests appropriated tithes from threshing floors, resulting in the death of ‘the poorest sort of the priests’ from want – effectively marginalising vulnerable and elderly dependents from access to essential agricultural resources. In this context, Robbins’ concept of cultural intertextuality (Robbins 1996:62) illuminates how the text reflects insider knowledge of Jewish social practices, particularly regarding power dynamics and spatial control, in which social identity was closely linked to access to both sacred and economic spaces. Johannine theology, by contrast, conceptualises identity, shifting the focus from hierarchical exclusion to relational life within the community.

Columella, in De re rustica, reflects a distinctly Roman spatial utilitarianism: land and farm space must maximise efficiency through diligent labour; unproductive bodies are an impediment to agricultural profit and should be avoided or reassigned (Columella 1941:1.3.8, Loeb Classical Library). As Columella puts it, ‘… we should not appoint … slaves who have pleased by their body; nor yet from … those accustomed to leisures, the Campus, the Circus, the theatres …’ and ‘… that kind … never ceases to dream of idleness, which when transferred to agriculture brings loss not so much in the slave himself as in the whole enterprise’, whereas ‘[h]e should be chosen who from infancy has been hardened by rustic works and tested by trials’, underscoring the priority of utility in spatial and labour assignments. In Robbins’ (1996:60) cultural intertexture framework, this emerges as specific cultural knowledge of Roman agrarian ideologies on space and power, where identity is defined by utility; the Johannine spatial theology counters this by redefining space as a domain of abundant life for all, including the marginalised.

Tacitus, in Annals 15.44, illustrates the exertion of imperial control under Nero, who, in the aftermath of the Great Fire of Rome, scapegoated those ‘called Christians by the populace’ in an effort to restore order within Roman urban space (Tacitus 2008:Ann. 15.44). According to Tacitus, Nero inflicted horrific punishments on them ‘… Covered with the skins of beasts, they were torn by dogs, or were nailed to crosses, or were doomed to the flames …’ and ultimately had some ‘… burnt, to serve as a nightly illumination’, thereby turning their suffering into a public spectacle that reconfigured space as theatre of punishment and exclusion. This instance exemplifies Robbins’ (1996:61) cultural intertexture through insider Roman cultural scripts of power and spatial violence, in which identity is enforced through public exclusion and corporeal punishment; Johannine light and love, by contrast, expose and seek to transform such dark spatial orders into communities of mutual belonging.

These 1st-century CE literary sources reflect 1st-century environments characterised by struggles to sustain livelihoods, imperial surveillance, religious exclusion and spatial violence – conditions that mirror, in structural terms, contemporary hostile environments faced by older persons in many African societies.

Given these 1st-century social, economic, religious and political situations reflected in these 1st-century literary sources, John reconfigures these discourses via cultural and social intertexture, echoing spatial motifs (dwelling or tabernacling, light exposing, life as fruitful) by transforming them from productive or hierarchy or exclusion to relational, inclusive divine participation. Robbins’ (1996:58–62) tenets of cultural intertexture further elaborate the Johannine spatial theology by showing how the Gospel uses insider cultural knowledge to reconfigure 1st-century concepts of power (from domination to shared authority), space (from exclusive territories to indwelling presence) and identity (from hierarchical exclusion to mutual belonging), thus creating a counter-space that resists Roman and Jewish ideologies.

Dwelling [ἐσκήνωσεν, eskēnōsen] (Jn 1:14); [µονὴν, monēn] (Jn 14:23): Echoes Jewish tabernacle or shekinah traditions (oral-scribal intertexture) and Philo’s cosmic contemplation (souls ‘dwelling’ with stars). Yet John conceptualises: The Logos ‘dwells or tabernacles’ in flesh, not Temple hierarchies or productive spaces. God makes a ‘dwelling’ with believers via love, subverting exclusionary Temple courts (symbolised above) or Roman estates. This reconfiguration aligns with Robbins’ (1996:60) cultural intertexture, where the text evokes and transforms specific cultural knowledge of sacred spaces and identity, shifting power from institutional control to relational communion.

Whitacre emphasises that John’s choice of ἐσκήνωσεν functions syntactically as relational presence, not spatial localisation, indicating that divine dwelling is redefined as personal communion rather than cultic access (Whitacre 1999:55–57). Coloe (2001:78–85) similarly argues that the tabernacle verb signals a temple transference, where Jesus replaces the Temple as the locus of God’s presence, dismantling sacred space boundaries that once structured Jewish social exclusion. Brown situates this syntax within Johannine community conflict, noting that μονὴν [monēn; ‘a dwelling place or abode’] and μονὴν παρ’ αὐτῷ ποιήσομεν [monēn par’ autō poiēsomen; ‘we will make our dwelling with him’] in John 14:23 and extends the dwelling motif from Christ to believers (Brown 1966 vol. 1:503–505), creating a counter-space narrative of reciprocal indwelling that resists institutional mediation. Köstenberger adds that the verbal aspect of ἐσκήνωσεν implies continuity, reinforcing the idea that God’s dwelling is enduring and communal rather than episodic or ritual (Köstenberger 2004:41–43).

Life [ζωή; zōē], abundant in Jn 10:10; present in Jn 5:24–29, reconfigures productivity-linked honour (Philo and Columella). Life is relational participation in divine zōē, not biological output or economic utility – revaluing the unproductive or marginalised (contra Josephus’ starving priests or Columella’s disposable labourers). Through Robbins’ (1996:59) cultural intertexture, this elaborates Roman and Jewish contexts by echoing insider codes of power and identity tied to productivity, but in the Johannine narrative, zōē, reconceptualises space as life-giving for the vulnerable, opposing cultures of exclusion.

Brown highlights that John’s syntactical use of ζωή – often anarthrous (ζωή – often used without the definite article) – marks it as qualitative rather than quantitative, signalling a mode of existence rooted in relationship with God rather than measurable vitality (Brown 1966 vol. 1:504–506). Whitacre develops this further by arguing that John 5:24’s present-tense construction (‘has life’) collapses eschatological expectation into present experience, semantically redefining honour away from productivity and towards relational belonging (Whitacre 1999:188–191). Köstenberger notes that this grammar directly challenges Greco-Roman values where life was assessed by contribution or output, because Johannine ζωή [life] is received, not earned (Köstenberger 2004:141–144). Collectively, these three scholars show that John’s syntax reorients social valuation, granting full dignity to those marginalised by economic or cultic standards.

Light [φῶς, phōs] (Jn 1:4–9; Jn 8:12); from a spatial perspective, phōs metaphorically exposes ‘darkness’ of exclusionary systems (Jn 3:19–21), echoing cultural scripts of order (Tacitus’ imperial illumination, Philo’s divine hierarchy) but Johannine narrative reconceptualises these cultural scripts by regarding Jesus as light who judges exclusion, rather than enforcing it. Robbins’ (1996:61) framework reveals this as cultural intertexture, using specific cultural knowledge of light as a symbol of power and revelation in Jewish and Roman traditions, elaborating space as exposed and transformed, and identity as inclusive rather than hierarchical.

Brown observes that John’s repetitive light or darkness antithesis operates as a symbolic syntax, in which moral and social realities are disclosed rather than imposed, exposing systems that prefer concealment (Brown 1966 vol. 1:130–134). Whitacre emphasises that φῶς [light] functions semantically as revelatory presence, where judgement occurs through exposure, not coercion – those who reject light self-exclude (Whitacre 1999:79–82). Köstenberger adds that the predicative use of light in John 8:12 (‘I am the light’) positions Jesus as the criterion by which all social structures are evaluated, including those legitimised by imperial or religious power (Köstenberger 2004:253–256). Consequently, Johannine syntax reframes light as an instrument of ethical unveiling rather than hierarchical control.

Love [ἀγάπη, agape] (Jn 13:34–35; Jn 15:9–17) reorders social relations mutually or sacrificially, countering hierarchies (Philo’s divine order, Josephus’ elite seizure). Communal identity emerges through mutual indwelling, not exclusion. Robbins’ cultural intertexture elaborates the contexts by reworking insider cultural codes of love as patronage or familial duty into sacrificial mutuality (Robbins 1996:62), redefining power as service, space as shared indwelling and identity as communal participation.

While Whitacre underscores that the command to love is syntactically embedded in reciprocal verbs and indwelling language, making love the defining marker of Johannine community identity rather than doctrinal boundary-keeping (Whitacre 1999:327–330), Brown interprets the repetition of ἀγάπη in the Farewell Discourse (Jn 13–17) as a literary strategy that forms a social ethic grounded in imitation of Jesus’ self-giving, not status preservation (Brown 1970 vol. 2:609–612). Köstenberger (2004:458–461) notes that the comparative construction (‘as I have loved you’) grammatically centres sacrificial action as the norm, overturning patronage hierarchies common in the ancient world. Consequently, Johannine love functions semantically as communal reconstitution, where belonging is generated through shared self-giving rather than exclusionary privilege.

Overall, these texts articulate both the trauma and hope of the Johannine community, presenting divine life [ζωή, zōē], light [φῶς, phōs] and love [ἀγάπη, agapē] as incarnate realities among them. In doing so, the Gospel offers an alternative framework for identity and belonging amid the pressures of Roman imperial authority, synagogue exclusion and internal communal tensions. It functions not only to console but also to equip the community to enact this theology in their daily lives. Through this rich intertexture, John persuasively invites its late-1st-century audience – likely Jewish-Christians in Asia Minor who had been expelled from synagogues and were navigating imperial domination (Keener 2003:128; Martyn 2003:46–47) – to apprehend the spatial significance of God’s presence, imagining a counter-space where relational belonging, divine indwelling and communal life reshape social and religious norms.

In this way, the Johannine Gospel functions as a theological counter-space, destabilising spatial regimes organised around productivity, honour and exclusion, and reconstituting community through relational participation in divine life.

This research carries significant implications for African theological education, particularly in aligning with the African Union’s aspirations for innovative and transformative higher education, as articulated in Agenda 2063, which emphasises indigenous knowledge systems, social inclusion, human dignity and the cultivation of ethical leadership. Current scholarship highlights critical gaps in African theological institutions’ capacity to respond to structural and relational vulnerabilities. Masvotore (2024) observes that many colleges continue to rely on Western curricula and pedagogical models that inadequately equip students to engage complex social realities, including ageing, marginalisation and social violence. This disconnect limits graduates’ ability to translate theological insights into socially transformative praxis.

Shirley et al. (2024) further note that while there is growing attention to biblical hospitality and inclusive ecclesial practices, these insights are often insufficiently integrated into formal curricula. They emphasise that theological training must move beyond pastoral care models to cultivate missional praxis that enables congregations to become hospitably welcoming, inclusive and socially responsive. Landman (2024) adds that pastoral engagement alone is often reactive rather than structurally transformative, particularly for vulnerable populations, including older persons, who require theological frameworks that address systemic, relational and spatial dimensions of marginalisation.

Embedding a spatial–theological analysis of the Johannine narrative into African theological curricula offers a practical solution. By reading John through the lens of Soja’s Thirdspace and Robbins’ socio-rhetorical intertextual analysis, students are equipped to envision alternative spaces of communal belonging, where divine life [ζωή, zōē], light [φῶς, phōs] and love [ἀγάπη, agapē] function as relational principles guiding the care, protection and inclusion of vulnerable populations, including older persons. For example, the Johannine emphasis on abiding in Christ (Jn 15:4–7) and mutual indwelling (Jn 14:23) can inform pastoral and community interventions that reconfigure intergenerational care structures, challenge social exclusion and provide ethical models for relational justice.

As already noted earlier, African scholarship consistently demonstrates that many older persons experience significant vulnerability arising from intersecting social, economic, cultural and health-related challenges.

Traditional African societies have historically accorded older persons respect and social significance; however, rapid socio-economic transformations have weakened many of the familial and communal structures that once provided care and protection. Studies indicate that poverty, social exclusion, inadequate healthcare, loneliness, abandonment and age-related discrimination increasingly affect the wellbeing of older adults across the continent (Hungwe 2011:37–39). The erosion of traditional support networks, coupled with limited social protection systems, has further intensified the vulnerability of older persons, particularly in contexts of urbanisation, migration and economic hardship (Aboderin 2017:4–6). Similarly, Wolde et al. (2022) found that the prevalence of the abuse of older persons was significantly associated with multiple chronic diseases, physical disability, substance use disorders, advanced age, poor social support and other related risk factors. Despite international policy calls and formal expressions of commitment on the part of some African governments, comprehensive policy action has remained scant (Dhemba 2023, 8). Furthermore, according to Agunbiade, economic pressures and changing intergenerational relationships have contributed to various forms of abuse and mistreatment of older persons, including physical, emotional and material neglect (Agunbiade 2019:6–10). Negative societal perceptions of ageing and the decline of traditional values of reciprocity have likewise undermined the social status and security of many older adults (Okoye & Obikeze 2005:216–220).

Collectively, these studies reveal that the vulnerability of older persons in Africa is not merely a consequence of biological ageing but is deeply embedded within broader socio-economic, cultural and political realities that expose many older persons – particularly women, widows and those accused of witchcraft – to poverty, violence, social isolation and violations of their dignity and human rights. Consequently, Christian scholarship is called to construct a Johannine counter-space of life, light and love within hostile African environments – a transformative social and theological space that resists exclusion, challenges structures of violence and neglect, and fosters dignity, belonging, protection and holistic flourishing for vulnerable older persons.

To translate these insights into actionable education, African educational institutions, including theological colleges, can implement the following five practical curriculum strategies:

Within hostile African socio-economic and cultural contexts, Christian scholarship can function as a counter-space by intentionally resisting narratives that equate ageing with decline, dependency or social death. For older persons, such counter-spaces reconfigure value away from economic productivity and towards relational belonging, mutual care and inherent human dignity. Through curriculum design, research agendas and community engagement, theological education becomes a transformative site where alternative imaginaries of ageing are cultivated, affirming older persons as integral participants in communal life rather than marginal or expendable bodies.

Modules should explicitly teach students to read the Gospel of John using Thirdspace theory (Soja 1996) and Robbins’ intertextual framework, with emphasis on life, light and love as practical theological concepts.

Exercises can map the Gospel’s counter-space logic against 1st-century imperial, synagogue and intra-community pressures, drawing parallels to contemporary African social realities.

The promotion of interdisciplinary research linking biblical studies, public theology and social gerontology, is crucial. Students could design action-research projects on local elder-care practices, applying Johannine spatial principles to develop inclusive, justice-oriented interventions.

The transformative research project should encourage community-engaged scholarship, partnering with congregations, non-government organisations (NGOs) or community-based organisations (CBOs) to experiment with relational, space-informed models of care.

There is a need for practicums that involve students actively cultivating ThirdSpaces in congregations and neighbourhoods, embodying abiding love and mutual care for older persons.

Workshops can train church leaders and volunteers to implement spatially conscious pastoral care, transforming traditional caregiving approaches into inclusive, dignity-preserving practices.

Outcomes from these programmes can feed back into curriculum development, reinforcing the connection between theological reflection, social engagement and knowledge production.

A more effective curriculum encourages students to compare Johannine spatial theology with African communal worldviews, highlighting synergies between biblical principles and local care practices Akesseh (2023:1–2,6–7) and Baloyi (2024:1,8–9) meaningfully connect Christian teaching with African cosmologies and communal practices. Building on these insights, students can critically examine both the continuities and tensions between Johannine principles and African communal practices.

A curriculum that integrates discussions on African Union Agenda 2063 goals demonstrates how theological reflection can advance social justice, human dignity and inclusion.

Incentivise publications and conference participation where students present contextualised spatial–theological frameworks, positioning African theological institutions and Universities as leaders in transformative, socially engaged scholarship.

Through these five integrated strategies, African theological education can move beyond abstract moral exhortation, cultivating graduates who analyse, inhabit and create spaces of justice and care, effectively bridging theological insight and societal transformation. This approach positions institutions as critical sites of indigenous knowledge production and socially responsible scholarship, addressing violence against older persons as a theological, ethical and societal concern rather than merely a social or pastoral problem.