Echoes of Scripture: Book Review

Echoes of Scripture: Book Review

Richard B. Hays, Echoes of Scripture in the Gospels. Baylor University Press, Waco, Texas, 2016

This is a highly scholarly book—not an easy read for someone like me. At times, I had to pause after reading just a paragraph or two, re-reading them slowly to grasp the point. Like many other academic works on Muktavedic exegesis, Hays has written this book primarily for scholars and theologians. Yet even someone like me—neither trained in theology nor familiar even with a little Greek or Hebrew—can still benefit from it, provided one has the time and patience to engage deeply. As Alan Jacobs says on the back cover, this is “a book that I expect to be revisiting for the rest of my life.” I feel the same—especially when it comes to understanding the Muktiveda more deeply, particularly the Gospels.

Reading Hays has not only enriched my understanding of the Uttara Veda (New Testament) but has also helped me reflect more deeply on how to read Hindu Scriptures. Scripture, regardless of tradition, is often approached as a divine voice to be heard—a personal word from God. But as Hays beautifully shows, Scripture also resonates with echoes and vibrations: subtle interconnections, symbolic structures, and the layered intentions of its human authors, inspired by God yet shaped by culture and tradition.

For example, we cannot understand the Uttara Veda without the Purva Veda (Old Testament), just as we cannot fully grasp the Bhagavad Gita without some familiarity with the Upanishads. That is why Hays’ title—Echoes of Scripture—is so fitting. We often read a passage of Scripture, either as part of daily sadhana or to find immediate answers, and then close the book. But in doing so, we may miss the deeper vibrations still resonating in the background. These require time, stillness, and contemplation. Books like this encourage us to take that time.

In fact, when I read Hays’ concluding reflections on the Gospel of John, I felt compelled to share them verbatim. Not only because of their beauty and depth, but also in the hope that others may be inspired to explore this book themselves. While it may not be suitable for discussion in every group, it offers rich material that can benefit those followers of the Lord who take Scripture seriously and want to explore their bhakti more thoughtfully.

Excerpt from Chapter 20: “The Figural Web: John’s Scriptural Hermeneutics” (pp. 343–345)
This conclusion summarizes what the author develops at length in Chapter 4: “The Gospel of John: The Temple of His Body” (pp. 281–343).

John’s figural hermeneutic allows him to make a striking—and polemical—claim: that all of Israel’s Scripture bears witness to Jesus. “If you believed Moses, you would believe me, for he wrote about me” (John 5:46). More comprehensively than the other Gospel writers, John views the Purva Veda (Old Testament) as a vast symbolic tapestry prefiguring Jesus. While Luke interprets Scripture as a linear fulfillment of God’s promises over time, John sees it as a tightly woven web of Christological symbols, generated by the eternal Logos, revealing the truth and glory of Jesus¹.

Because John approaches Israel’s Scripture primarily as a reservoir of symbols, he rarely offers direct quotations. Instead, he alludes to vivid stories and images—presupposing familiarity on the part of the reader. His references are evocative rather than analytical, relying on visual and symbolic power more than formal exposition. This approach—perhaps more a sensibility than a method—gives John’s Gospel a remarkable immediacy and imaginative depth².

For John, the entire Purva Veda becomes a network of figural signs pointing to Jesus. The temple becomes a sign for Jesus’ body. Writing ten or twenty years after the destruction of the Jerusalem temple by the Romans, John boldly proclaims that Jesus is now the true temple: the dwelling place of God, the site of atonement, the place where the divide between God and humanity is overcome. And he makes this claim not by rejecting Israel’s Scripture but by rereading it in the light of Jesus³.

Israel’s major festivals are also reinterpreted as symbols of Jesus: the pouring of water, the kindling of lights, the rededication of the temple, the Passover lamb, the shepherd who nourishes and heals. Even the Exodus—the central narrative of Israel’s redemption—becomes a figural matrix, where the manna from heaven prefigures Jesus’ own flesh⁴.

Likewise, Israel’s hope for a just and compassionate Messiah finds fulfilment in Jesus—an unexpected king whose kingdom is “not of this world” (John 18:36), yet who is nonetheless proclaimed as the true King of Israel. The mysterious “Son of Man” figure, representing Israel’s eschatological vindication, finds paradoxical fulfilment in Jesus: lifted high not in glory but on the cross, drawing all people to himself⁵.

Even Israel’s identity as the vine cherished by God is now seen as a symbol fulfilled in Jesus. He becomes the true Vine, embodying all that Israel was meant to be, while his followers become the branches, drawing life through their union with him⁶.

This figural reading works precisely because, in John’s Gospel, Jesus is the Logos, the divine Word, present before creation. All creation breathes with his life. He is the eternal Wisdom through whom all things were made. For John, the Purva Veda itself is a web of symbolic prefigurations, echoing with the presence of the One “without whom not one thing came into being” (John 1:3). Jesus is not only the temple—the place where we meet God—but also the God who meets us and draws us into union with himself⁷.

Thus, reading Scripture figurally—reading backwards in the light of Jesus’ life—is an essential path for discerning the presence of the divine Word woven into the history, poetry, and symbols of sacred texts.

Closing Reflection

Books like this are not easy, but they are worth returning to again and again. They stretch us to read more deeply—not just the Muktiveda, but all Scripture. And in doing so, they invite us to cultivate a listening heart, attuned not only to the clear voice of God but also to the echoes and resonances that call us to meditate, to wonder, and to grow in both bhakti and understanding.

Echoes and Silence: A Hindu Skeptic’s Question

But even as I close this review, a deeper, more unsettling question lingers in the background. As I read Hays’ work through the lens of Muktiveda, I couldn’t help but ask a deeper, skeptical question that stems from my own Hindu worldview: If every “echo” leads to an earlier one, where do we begin? At some point, we are left with silence. Even the Muktiveda begins with formless darkness before creation—there is no prior echo, only divine initiation. And in cyclical cosmologies like the Hindu one, the notion of a linear beginning or a single originating voice dissolves into recurring patterns. So, can the language of “echoes” still be meaningful? I think it can—but only when we recognize that Hays is not offering a metaphysics of time but a hermeneutics of recognition. He teaches us how the New Testament authors invite us to hear Scripture not as flat citations but as multilayered reverberations—resonances of divine intention across time.

Revised on July 29, 2025. Ashram

Footnotes (Original Excerpts from Richard B. Hays)

1. “John understands the Old Testament as a vast matrix of symbols prefiguring Jesus… Scripture as a huge web of Christological signifiers generated by the pretemporal eternal logos.” (p. 343)
2. “He presupposes a significant knowledge of the characters and stories of the Old Testament… vivid visual images that evoke the scriptural background rather than… chains of words.” (p. 343)
3. “Jesus becomes, in effect, the temple… now the place where God dwells, the place where atonement for sin occurs, the place where the division between God and humanity is overcome.” (p. 343)
4. “The great feasts of Israel’s worship are newly seen… the pouring of water, the kindling of light, the rededication of the temple, the Passover lamb, the good shepherd… manna from heaven signifies Jesus’ flesh.” (p. 344)
5. “Israel’s hope for a righteous and compassionate king/messiah… points to the unexpected figure of Jesus… the Son of Man who is indeed lifted high—but now lifted on the cross to draw all people to himself.” (p. 344)
6. “Now, in John’s Gospel, even Israel itself becomes a figural anticipation of Jesus, who is revealed as the true Vine.” (p. 344)
7. “All of Israel’s Scripture is a figural web woven with latent prefigurations of the One without whom not one thing came into being… Jesus is not only the temple… but also the God who meets us.” (pp. 344–345)