4..1'L. oC '^ PRINCETON, N. J. ^ Presented by c3 VI^V^C iS'S cS>X(ScA Dwision -D-Z^-XLLd J_)_I) Section Jy,D.'^l DR. AUGUSTUS NEANDER'S SCRIPTURAL EXPOSITIONS THE FIRST EPISTLE OF JOIIK, Til K EPISTLE OF PAUL TO THE PHILIPPIANS AND THE EPISTLE OF JAMES. TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY MRS. H. C. CONANT, AUTHOR OP IlISTOKT OP "ENOL ISir BIBLE TRANSLATIOIT. NEW YORK: SHELDON AND COMPANY, BOSTON: GOULD & LINCOLN. CHICAGO: S. C. GRIGGS & 00. 18 5 9. THE FIRST EPISTLE OF JOHN, PRACTICALLY EXPLAINED. BY DR. AUGUSTUS NBANDER. TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY MRS. II. C. CONANT. V.'H&T THINK YB OB' OKlil N E W - Y 0 K K : SHELDON & COMPANY, BOSTON: GOULD & LINCOLN. CHICAGO : S. C. GRIGGS. Entered according to Act of Congress, in tha year 1851, BV LEWIS COLUV In the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New York. PREFACE The present volume closes the series of Neander's Practical Com- mentiiries. Of liis original plan, embracing all the more important [lortions of the Bible, only the Exposition of Philippians, of James, and of the first Epistle of John had been completed, when their re- vered author was summoned to a higher sphere. All these are now before the American public. They form a worthy close of his earthly labors, and to many, will seem the crowning glory of his noble life- work. Tlie treasures of genius and learning, which enrich his more Kdientifio works, here seem vivified by a new element, and melt under the fervor of his inner spiritual life, into a glowing stream of eloquent practical instruction. Not that this element is wanting in any of his productions. It was the informing spirit of his life, and of all his labors. But here it is predominant ; all else is but the ser- vant and instrument of Christian love, seeking to edify the body of Christ. Here, in the Epistle of John, Neander found a peculiarly congenial field. There is a noble freedom and assurance in his tread, a glow of feeling, an eloquence of utterance, such as even Neander exhibits nowhere else. lie moves along the high track of revelation as in a tamiliar path ; gazing into its deepest mysteries with reverent but open eye, and interpreting them to us, not as subjects for specula- tion, but as sources of vital influence to the human spirit. This exposition derives a peculiar interest from the fact, that it was intended to meet the religious wants of the time. He found the tendencies of the age of John reproduced in our own ; and threatening as then, not to subvert Christianity by open opposition, but to corrupt Christianity itself, distilling into the sources of belief the poison of human opinion, under the^name of Biblical criticism, and Christian philosophy. In developing the Apostle's meaning, he takes his stand, with a spirit and tone worthy of John himself, in defence of positive revealed religion. The Gospel history is to him no Myth ; it is a record of divine facts. The Christ therein reveal- ed, is the Eternal Son of God in human nature. He truly lived, he truly died; he rose victorious over death, and now lives at the right hand of the Father. Through his Life and his Suffering, ho won immortal life for man; that life which consists in restoration to tlie likeness and fellowship of God. Only through him, can the human soul obtain this life. There is here no liberality, so-called, in the theology of Neander, truly liberal as he is cm .-ill minor points W FREKACE. of belief. The crucified, tlie risen, the perpetually mediating Christ, must be the all and in all, or the soul wanders in darkness, cut off from the only fountain of salvation. On knowing Christ depends even the knowledge of God, as the universal Father and Creator. To the Christianity which does not accept Clirist in his whole re- vealed character, as the incarnate Eternal Word, the divine-human Redeemer, he refuses even the name of Christianity. In his own emphatic words : " Whoever denies or mutilates this fact, is to be at once rejected. No other mark for the designation of the undi- vine, the false, the anti-Christian, should be needed for the believer." Tins commentary, as well as the two preceding, exhibits in a strik- ing ligljt Neander's estimation of the Scriptures, as the inspired word of God. In what English interpreter, guiltless of German learning, can be found a more reverent reception of their teachings, a more devout and dihgent seeking after what is revealed, a more t-hild-like humility in pausing at the boundary where revelation feases? The word of God is to him the supreme authority, the iirial ajjpeal. Ills sole object is to develop its treasures, to penetrate tliroiigii tlie letter to the spirit, and to bring this into contact witli the living heart. But Neander found also, in the present age, a dead orthodoxy ; whici), while professing the most tenacious adherence to the Scrip- tures as tiie revelation of divine truth, no less dishonored and en- dangered true Cliristianity. In unfolding John's treatment of this eri'or in his own age, he furnishes lessons of the richest practical instruction for the evangelical church of our time, and of all times. Religious truth is to him food for the soul, that on which it must live, something demanded by an inward necessity of its nature. Its office is not to exercise the intellect, but to raise and purify the spirit. Belief is the reception of tins truth into the living heart, not the cold assent of the understanding. Hence both the earnestness with which he demands the reception of essential truths, and his comparative indifference to all points of doctrine, which do not af- fect the interests of sjilvation. Thus the true view of the person of Christ, is to him an object of infinite moment. Tliis is not, how- ever, for the sake of the knowledge in and for itself; bnt because it is only through this knowledge, that Christ himself can be rightly received into the soul perishing for his help. Only by knowing liim as he is, can the soul rightly submit to him, trust in him, draw from him what it needs for the restoration of its God-like nature in tlio divine image. The right recognition of truth presupposes moreover, on the part of the percipient, that sense of his own moral state ami of liis relations to God, which converts the outward to inward knowledge. The famishing, the sick, the dying, knows that he h;is in this truth received refreshment, healing, life, in liis inner being. The Christ revealed to him, has become the Christ reveakd ix liiin ; and in this inward revelation, continually derived anew from its divine fountain, lies tlie highest source of spiritual knowledge. For it is the perception imparted by the Son of God himself, the new God-related sense, whicli lie alone can give. This is the Christian consciousness, so often mentioned by Neander in this commentary; PEEFACE. 7 to which he ascribes so high an office, both as the immediate ground of belief in Christ, and the test of whutevcr is presented to tlie Chris- tian as divine truth. According to this view, a man's creed cannot in tlie Scriptural sense be right Avhile his life, his spirit, is wrong. The letter of his creed may be right ; but wanting that wliich made it God's truth, God's revelation to the soul, it is essentially false. It no less mis- represents God, is no less ruinous to the soul, than the unbelief which openly rejects the truth, or the false philosophy which cor- rupts it. How much orthodox)', so-called, and contended for as es- sential to salvation, would at this Ithuriel-touch stand revealed in its true form, as from beneath, not from above I The spontaneous inevitable expression of belief in the Gospel, of orthodoxy in the sense of John, is Brotherly Love ; love which regards all men as brethren, but whose most immediate sphere, where it unfolds in its highest power and glory, is the church, the body of Christ. Hard test! Who then, — we might almost exclaim, as, looking over evan- gelical Christendom, we see rather an arena of deadly combatants than the peaceful, loving home of the family of God, — who then be- lieves ! Convinced we must be, both that the true knowledge of Christ is as yet greatly wanting among professing Christians, and that all attempts at outward union, whether among individuals^, churches, or the various great divisions of the church, is labor thrown away. The inward union, which springs from living fellow- ship with God through Clirist, will gradually melt away all outward differences which mar the symmetry of the church ; but the out- ward union can never heal the inward discord. So also with the evils of the world at large. All reforms which proceed not from this divine principle, however fair their appearance, will prove un- real and of brief duration. The source of all evil, whether in the church or the world, is estrangement from God ; the one great cure, the restoration of the soul to a loving union with God, eflected through the mediation of the divine Eedeemer. Herein lies the peculiar characteristic of this whole Commentary, — the conception of Christianity in all its relations and manifesta- tions, as a matter of the hfe. A believer, a Christian, is one who is in living fellowship with Christ. If this living fellowship is lost, he is, whatever may have been his former experiences, in precisely tlie same peril with one who has never known it. Neander knows of no dead state of grace. The human soul, created in the image of God, and redeemed by his well-beloved Son, is in his view too noble, and its price too costly, to be thus taken to heaven as a piece of purchased merchandise. The salvation won by Christ for man, is the life of God in the soul; a conscious life, a reaching forth of its warm living affections after him, a life manifested by free, uncon- strained, joyful obedience to his commands, by the spirit of holiness and love pervading the whole character and conduct. On this view of the Christian life, rests his noble conception of the Christian church. It is not a body of men bound into an exter- nal unity by the same creed ; but a company of individual believers drawn together by an inward afnuity, by a common participation in tliat living fellowship with God. Neither are there here any dis- tinctions of rank. It is one family of God, in which each member stands in immediate communion with his Fatlier, and receives im- mediate life and light from the same divine Spirit. There is here no infollible head of tlie church on earth ; no constituted priesthood to mediate between him and God ; no articles of faith shaped and stereotyped by the ingenuity of man, to which he is required to bow. Each has the Anointing of tlie Holy One ; all are Priests and Proph- ets, through the indwelling divine Spirit. It seems especially meet, that the illustration of these vital truths should be the closing labor of Xeander's life. The spirit which per- vades it, reveals a soul matured and mellowed under the influence of these truths, to the deepest and richest tone of Christian experience. From his own christian consciousness flowed these eloquent exposi- tions, of the true character of religious knowledge and belief, of the nature of sin, of theeflicacy of redemption, of fellowship with God. Only from personal intercourse with heaven, was caught the fire of liis almost inspired delineation of the power of prayer ! And beau- tifully fitting it seems also, that it should be the exposition of these truths as revealed througli the Apostle John. "With him, the man of " burning love and burning hate,'"* the beloved disciple and the son of thunder, the man of immediate i)erception and intuition of the divine, Neander had always felt a peculiar affinity. The illus- tration of John's writings had been a favorite labor of his life; and now, as its close draws near, we find him again holding communion with the aged Apostle, and interpreting his latest counsels to the church. Standing on the threshold of the unseen world, he seems to listen with a deeper spiritual sense to the inspired utterances, and interprets them in Avords of kindred sublimity, earnestness, and love. Their sweetness had hardly died upon his lips, when he was called "to the home of the Good, to Christ;" to join in that new song, to which while yet on earth his spirit and his life were so fully attuned, "Worthy the Lamb that was slain 1" The brief sketch which has been given, of the leading features of the following work, will be pardoned by those who are conversant with Neander's peculiar modes of thought, for the sake of the many to whom they are still new. The quotations from the Epistle are given in the words of the common English version. The author's variations are added in brackets, wherever they afiect the view expressed in the commen- f^^y- H. c. c. Rochester, Sept. 1852. • Thnl is, in liis onpiiial characier, unmodified by divine grace. " Feiirige Lipbe und fpurige llaasf," was NcanUer's charactcrizailon of ihe ualurul lempcrameni of Jobu, INTRODUCTION. In order rightly to understand tliis Epistle, we must make ourselves acquainted witli the Apos- tle's sphere of labor at the time of writing it, and with the peculiar circumstances to which he had reference, in the condition of the churches whom he addressed. From the true historical ex- planation will follow, moreover, its proper appli- cation to all succeeding times, and to our own age more especially, as bearing a moi"e marked re- semblance to that which we may designate as the Johannic period ; an age which, in the disorgani- zation and destruction of the old order of things, is preparing the way for a new epoch in the de- velopment of the kingdom of God. In the op- posing influences with which John had to contend as a preacher of the Gospel, properly understood, we shall see prefigured the very same which ob- 8 struct the progress of evangelical truth in our own day. After the martyrdom of Paul, the influences which had already begun to oppose themselves to the christian life in the churches of Asia Minor, broke forth with increased strength when no longer restrained by the personal character and authority of the great Apostle. John was now called to supply his place in the guidance of the bereaved churches, left exposed to the perils of so dangerous a conflict. He had already labored long among them, when he sent out this pastoral letter, with reference to the many forms of cor- ruption which here menaced genuine Christianity, Of these corruptions, some were chiefly specula- tive, others practical in their character. They were, in part, errors arising from a narrow and defective conception of christian truth; in part, practical mistakes which had no such deeper ori- gin. But these errors, of whatever kind, with which John had to contend, did not respect merely those single points of difference in the mode of dogmatic conception, to which in later times a greater weight has often been attached, than is warranted by a more just estimate of their impor- 9 tiince both to the inward and the outward chris- tian life. On the contrary, they all had reference to that one great truth on which all others turn, the central truth of Christianity. The Apostle's example furnishes a model of the discrimination, too much neglected in after times, between that which is of practical impoitance in differences of doctrine, and that which cannot Ite so regarded. In the Pauline period, all had turned on the question between Law and Gospel ; on the ques- tion whether faith in Jesus, as the Saviour, would alone suffice for the justification and sanctification of men, or whether obedience to the Mosaic law were also requisite. Now, on the contrary, the central point of the coniiict between truth and error was the Person of Cheist ; and it became more and more evident, that a full and complete conception of Christianity, in' its relation to faith and life, must be based on a full conception of the Person of Christ himself. The question had al- ready taken this turn at the time of Paul's first im prisonment at Rome, as appears from his own op- position to those errorists in the church at Colosse. Here, even then, the Pei'son of Christ in its ]-ela- tion to (jod, to tlie imivei-se, aii:l to hnuinulty, 1* 10 formed the central point of controversy; and this was nothing else than a, I'arther development of the inherent contrariety between genuine Chris- tianity, and that which only assumes its likeness in order to vitiate it in its own peculiar nature. We see the same thing repeated in our own time, — all essential questions of religious faith resolving themselves more and more into the one question : What are we to hold respecting the Person of Christ ? That the Word, — He Avho from the beginning was with God and was God, He by whom all things were created, — became Flesh ; this, as John himself teaches, constitutes the peculiar nature of the Person of Christ. Herein is that grounded by which he is distinguished from all else that has ever appeared in the history of humanity, — the union of the Divine Essence with human nature In all its pro2}erties and peculiarities, the human- ization of the Divine Essence in order to remodel human nature after thi%, revealed form of the di- vine. And as it is this which constitutes the pe- culiar nature of the Person of Christ, so does it constitute the peculiar nature of entire Christian- ity; its grand purpose being, as befits the destiny 11 of man created in the image of God, to raise whatever is human to the glorious dignity of the divine life, to transform it into the divine. Thus, on the right apprehension of Christ as the Incar- nate Word, depends also the true conception of the whole moral change wrought in the life by Christianity, in other words, the peculiar nature of all christian morality. The true concej^tion of this union of the divine and human, in the Person of Christ, being thus essential to a true under- standing of what Christ was ; there readily arose two opposite forms of error, exalting the one at the expense of the other, instead of grasping the full and entire unity of his divine-human person, both sides in perfect agreement and harmony with each other. Both these erroneous and mutilated conceptions of the Whole Christ, testify of that very truth from which they diverge in opposite directions. For such, and no othei', must have been Christ's manifestation of himself on earth, in order that the contemplation of it might make such opposite impressions. Of this no other ex- ample can be found in human history. On the one class, so powerful was the impression of the purely human in that manifestation, that they 12 would recognize in bim nothing but the man, though gifted v/ith extraordinary divine powers for the fulfilment of his human calling. The other class, contending against this narrow conception of the idea of Christ, ran into the opposite extreme. To their view, the divine glory shone in the ap- pearance of Christ with an overpowering radiance, before which all that was human vanished from sight. They regarded it only as the visible form, in which the manifestation of a divine existence had made its abode, in order that it might become an object of human perception. Between these opposite forms of conception, — the E])i(^nitis]i and Pocetish, with which John had to contend, — there arose a third, that of Cerinthus, whicli seemed to reconcile the two extremes, but which was at bot- tom a compound of what was erroneous in both, and allowed neither to the divine nor the human in Christ its just claims. According to this view, Jesus was a mere man, in all respects like other men. But at his solemn consecration to his Mes sianic calling by the baptism in Jordan, the celes tial redeeming Spirit, as something wholly distinct from him, had descended upon and united itself with him. Thus the purely human and the divine 13 were indeed both recognized ; not however in their proper unity, but on the contrary as entirely distinct the one from the other, and only united in an outward and accidental relation. Thus nei- ther the divine was recognized in its humaniza- tion, nor the human in its exaltation through the divine. The true significance of the Person of Christ, and of the new creation which was to pro- ceed from him,— the God-man as the Eedeemer of humanity, — was necessarily obscured in this view no less than in the two others. In opposi- tion to all these fi-agmentary conceptions of the person and work of Christ, the Apostle John felt himself constrained to give the testimony de- rived from his own direct perception and personal experience of the life of Christ, in which the glory of the only begotten of the Father had revealed itself to him, beaming forth in his whole manifes- tation. But it will easily be perceived, that these same contrarieties are repeated at the present day un- der new forms; and hence the Apostle's words apply with no less force to the spiritual aspects of our own age. The one class recognize in Christ only the enlightened man, the most perfect teacher 14 of religious truth who had then ever appeared on earth, and the most perfect model for the human life. Christianity is in their view only a system of moral instruction, moral precept and moral ex- ample. They deny the supernatural, the divine in the life of Christ, and consider him as differing only in degree from the nobler of the race ; they explain away the Gospel history, till everything in it is brought down to the level of common ex- perience. Hence too, they cannot recognize nor comprehend those moral potencies proceeding from Christ, such as could proceed from no other, which are working the moral transformation of the world, and by which Christianity is distin- guished from all other spiritual forces at work in humanity. The glory of a divine life, whereby everything human is transformed into the heav- enly, remains hidden from their view. Christian- ity, in its peculiar nature, is to them still an unre- vealed mystery. Others there are, on the con- trary, who fully recognize the violence thus done to the representation of the life of Christ in the Gospel, who catch from the Gospel narrative the gleam of higher ideas ; but they are ideas floating in ether, having no contact with the earthly and ac- 15 tual. According to their view, the historical mani- festation had no actual existence ; it is but a sub- limated myth, which has become a medium for the divine. The historical Christ becomes to them a mere form of mist, a phantom, an illusion, as to the Docetes of the ancient world. There still re- mains, therefore, the same disagreement between the heavenly archetype and the actual being, which it was the very purpose of Christ's coming to do away ; and which was to disappear more and more by the progressive incorporation of his di- vine life into the life of humanity, in those who enter into fellowship with him as their Eedeemer. As the former will allow no guide but actual and ordinary experience, which can never rise to the divine Idea ; so the latter content themselves with the contemplation of mere ideals which have no part in life, never become flesh and blood, never incorporate themselves with the actual ; and thus on this side also, with all its tendency to the ideal, nothing remains but the common and actual. The one class admit only an ideal Christ ; the other only an every-day Christ level to their low and natural view of the historical. The first ad- mit only the spirit, the other only the letter ; and 16 tlius both are lost, being rightly apprehended only in their unity. From both these forms of error are to be dis- tinguished those practical mistakes, which have no such theoretical basis. Here too, as in the former case, we find directly opposite forms of error. The one class, in the consciousness of redemjotion already received, lost sight of the still remaining necessity of redemption, which should be ever present to the view of the believer; that ever present sense of still inhering sin, from which he can be purified only by a perpetually renewed surrender of himself to tJie Redeemer. The other class hoped for forgiveness of sin, without renun- ciation of sin in submission to the Redeemer. They supposed that forgiveness might be obtained, without a thorough woik of sanctification in fel- lowship with Christ. To tliem, forgiveness of sin was something merely external ; just as faith had become something external merely, having lost its true inward significance. A mechanical and worldly Christianity had arisen ; a natural result where Christianity has become a thing of custom and habit, as in these churches founded in the time of Paul, in many of which Christianity had 17 already been Landed down from one generation to another. Both these forms of error must be met by holding up to view tlie Holy One ; Him who appeared as Redeemer to establish a kingdom of holiness in man ; who, as Redeemer and Sanc- tifier, continues to work in that humanity, which is more and more to be purified and ennobled by him, and which can never cease to have need of Him as its Redeemer in all the progressive stages of sanctification. We need not stop to point out the perpetual recurrence of these practical mis- takes, as it must be obvious to all. To these theoretical and practical mistakes stand opposed the counsels, instructions, and warnings of the Apostle in this pastoral letter. It will therefore easily be seen, how we are to apply what is here written as if intended expressly for our own time. We will now proceed to the consider- ation of them in detail. 2 EIPOSITION OF THE EPISTLE. CHAPTER I. John commences without any preliminary in- troduction. His first words burst forth from the fulness of that which was the soul, the centre of his whole Christian life, that which formed the sum and substance of his preaching and of all his instructions. Taking his readers at once into the midst of that subject, on which no doubt all he had ever had occasion to say to them had turned, he begins by pressing home upon their hearts what had already become familiar to them from his lips ; which needed only to be recalled to their remembrance, to be quickened and animated anew, and to be made the centre and axis of tKeir whole christian life. We all remember the old tradition, that when this Apostle, in extreme old age, was carried in the arms of his disciples to the assem- 20 blies of the church, he did nothing but repeat this one admonition : " Little children, love one anoth- er." When asked the reason, he replied: "Be- cause it is the Lord's command ; and this being done, all is done." In this single trait, handed down to us by tradition, is fully expressed the peculiar nature and personality of John. It is not the rich variet}^ in the development and ex- pression of ideas, and of their remote relations, which we find in Paul. Here, on the contrary, are a few essential truths, repeated over and over in simple words, which, as they fell from the lips of Christ himself, had stamped themselves deeply into the susceptible spirit of John, and had be- come as it were ingrown into liis own peculiar na- ture. With him all proceeds from the direct con- templation of Christ, the God-man, whose living image is ever present to his soul, and to whom he is ever directing alike his hearers and readers. He ceases not to testify of that which he has learned in daily intercourse with him, the divine source of life, and which is to him of all things the most certain. lie can find no words strong enough to express the assurance of his conviction, that this divine-human life was a reality. Ilis ve^'y 21 forms of expression stand fortli in strong contrast with that sublimation of the image of Christ by the Docetes, of which we have already spoken. In his historical representation of Christ's Mes- sianic labors, he distinguishes himself from the other Evangelists in this respect, — that he does not commence with the immediately preceding historical preparation, the prophetic advent of the Baptizer, nor yet with the beginning of the earthly life of Christ ; but rises above the manifestation in time, to that divine Original which revealed itself therein. This characteristic peculiarity of John meets us also here, at the very commence- ment of this Epistle. No otherwise could John have spoken. The fulness of the divine essence, leading back to the Eternal Source in the invisible God himself, and the human manifestation, — all iiiis he contemplated inseparably and as one. He beholds in Christ the revelation in humanity of E[im v/ho is exalted above all time, who had no beginning in time ; who, antecedent to all crea- tion, was from the beginning ; the Eternal Image of the unknown divine existence. This having now presented itself in human utiture to human appre- hension, it was necessary that John, in reprodu- 22 cing the image of Christ to the view of his readers, should first of all comprehend both these in one ; viz. that which was fi-om the be2:innino:, — and that which had become, to those who witnessed his life on earth, an object of unquestionable physical perception. He begins, not with abstract ideas, but by referring to a fact, the highest of all facts in human history, and to its attestation by per- sonal experience. " That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our Ch. i. 1.] eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled." It is noteworthy, that John here expresses himself in the indeterminate form. We should naturally expect a personal designation of Him who v/as from the beginning ; who in his temporal manifestation had permitted himself to be seen and heard and handled, thus subjecting his re-, ality to the test of all the senses. Yet John ex- presses himself thus Indefinitely : " That which was from the beginning, that which we have seen and heard ;" and again afterwards he resumes the same form : " That which we have seen and heard, declare we unto you." In the intermediate clause also, he designates him not personally, but by 23 Bometliing relating to him, — " of the word of life." These expressions,taken in connection, are the very clue which is needed, to introduce us into the pe- culiar spirit and manner of John. All which he has to say to men proceeds from Christ, and leads back to Christ ; it is Christ himself that appears in all ; the sole object is to gain Him entrance to the hearts of men, to bring within reach of man that fountain of all true life, the self-communica- tion of Christ. Thus it naturall}^ happens that, in John's mode of conception, the distinction between the impersonal and the personal is lost from view. That which he has to announce, that which was from the beginning, that which he has seen and heard, is no other than the self-revelation and self- imparting of Him, who w^as from the beginning. John does not immediately carry out this thought, in the form of expression with . which he had begun ; but interrupting him- self, expresses in a new form what was already in his mind and filled his soul while writing the first words : " Of the Word of life (for the Life was manifested, and we have seen it, and bear witness, and show unto you that Eternal Life which was with the Father, and was manifested unto us)". 24 What now are we to understand by " the Word of Life"? Shall we, as elsewhere, understand " word" in the sense of announcement ? We must then refer it to that original proclamation of the Life, which was made by Christ. Even thus the mind would still be directed to the appearing of Christ himself: as, in what immediately follows, not merely the proclamation of the Life is spoken of, but the manifestation of the life in its self-rev- elation among men ; and also the expression " That which was from the beginning" refers, as we have seen, not merely to an indefinite something, but to Him who was from the beginning. He it is, then, whom we here find repi'esented as the " Word of life." The mind is tlins directed to what John calls " The Word," at the begini>ing of his Gos- pel. Christ liimself is the Word, in whom the hidden being of God has revealed itself Since, in his temporal manifestation as the revelation of God in human nature, he is the perfect expression of the divine nature in human form ; this his tem- poral manifestation is by John referred back to the Eternal AVord, in which the hidden being of God originally imaged and revealed itself, became objective to itself, — in which the whole creation 25 had its archetype. As the spirit of man, before it reveals itself outwardly in the spoken word, ex- presses itself to itself, unfolds and becomes objec- tive to itself, in an inner word, the word of self-con- sciousness ; so in God, this Word of his eternal self- revelation is to be distinguished from his hidden, unfathomable being. It was this Word which was from the beginning. It is this Word which John calls " the Word of Life." By life here he understands the divine life originating in God, proceeding from him alone as the only true' life. Since now all communication of life from God is through the medium of this Word, it is itself the fountain of true life, and John calls it absolutely the Word of Life. He then proceeds, under this form of conception, to express what he had in mind at his opening words, what he wished to tes- tify to his readers as something made certain to him by personal observation and experience. Hav- ing designated Christ as himself the Word of Life, he adds, under the same form of thought, the dec- laration that the Life absolutely, He whose nature is life, the divine life-fountain, has revealed itself in a human manifestation. He claims to have been an eye-A\'itness of this self-revelation of the Life. The eternal Life itself, which as the Word was hidden with the Father, has appeared in a self- revelation in humanity ; — such, and no other than this, was the appearing of Christ. John testifies of that eternal Life, which appeared in Christ in order to impart itself to men ; to impart to them this life which constitutes His whole being, and whose fountain he himself is. This it was the ob- ject of John's testimony to make known. Resuming accordingly what he had begun, he now proceeds in the same form: "That Ch. i. 8.] which we have seen and heard declare we unto you, that ye also may have fellowship with us." Having, therefore, been himself an eye ana ear- witness of the self-revelation of that eternal Life which seeks to impart itself to man, John declares what he has seen and heard, that those who hear may be led by it into that divine fellowship of life in which all are to become one. By the " fellow- ship with us," which he represents as the object for which he declares this, he means fellowship with those who testified, as original eye-witnesses, of the eternal Life which had made its appearance in humanity ; a fellowship therefore derived from 27 that original fellowship witli the divine life-foun- tain so revealed, a fellowship with the Apostles grounded in fellowship with Christ. AU fellow- ship of believers with one another, in the Apos- tle's view, springs from that original fact of fel- lowship with Christ. Thus is formed his concep tion of the Church. This is of special importance as a guard against the tendency, which is ever reappearing, to exter- nalize the idea of the church, to attach an undue value to a certain visible organization ; while it is forgotten that fellowship with Christ is the main point, the essential element of the whole true church,— which, issuing from this source, grounded in this fellowship, may appear in a variety of out- ward forms. We must ever bear in mind that where this fellowship exists, there, whatever de- fects may still cleave to it, is a true church ; as in- deed there is no form of divine manifestation in sinful human nature wholly free from defect. In explanation of what he understands by this fellowship, the Apostle immediately adds ; " And truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ." Fellowship with the Father, who can be truly 28 known as Father only in this self-re\'elation through the Son, is hei-e i-epresented as effected Ch.i. 4.] ' ^ through the medium of fellowship with the Son. And since in this fellowship is grounded that eternal divine life, in which alone true bles- sedness and joy can be found ; John represents it as the object of his whole preaching, as likewise of this Letter (intended to revive in their hearts the contents of that preaching, in opposition to all the corruptions and impurities of which we have spoken) to promote that joy: "And these things write we unto you that your joy may be full." All impurities and corruptions of the chris- tian's inward and outward life, must also intro- duce disturbance into the joy or blessedness grounded in the divine fellowship of life with Christ. In this pastoral Letter, designed to avert such a danger, what he seeks is this : that their joy may be full, that in fellowship with Christ they may find their full joy. In this Epistle, promises and the stipulated con- * dition of their fulfilment, that which is to Ch. i. 6.] be performed on the part of those to whom the promises are addressed, are presented in con- stant interchange. "With religious truth there is 29 always connected a practical application to the moral conduct and course of life ; and nothing is said in reference to the latter which is not de- ducible from the former. As in his opening words, where he speaks as an eye-witness of the appearing of Christ, John plainly has reference to that erroneous suLliination of the Idea of Christ; so here when he is speaking of the practical, we cannot fail to perceive an implied rej^rehension of that secularized Christianity of custom and habit. " This then is the message which we have heard of him, -and declare unto you : That God is light,^. and in him is no darkness at all." First of all, he represents God under an image which they had doubtless often heard from his own mouth, as he too had received it from the lips of Christ: "God is light, and in him is no darkness." His nature is light; from Him all darkness is excluded. He is the opposite of all darkness. Light, in the Holy Scriptures, and es- pecially in the writings of John, is often used as the image of the Divine ; darkness, on the other hand as the image of the Undivine. Truth, holi- ness, bliss, all these may be designated as light, since they all belong to the nature of the Divine ; 30 as falsehood, wickedness, and misery form the characteristics of the Undivine. "What is partic- ularly represented by the image of light in this passage, will appear from the exhortation which is founded on it. It enjoins a course of life con- trary to all that is unholy, and the ground-thought must therefore be, that the nature of God is holi- ness ; all that is unholy is alien to him. From this view of the divine nature, the Apos- tle now deduces what is required as the Ch.i. 6,7.] condition of standing in fellowship with God ; the signs by which this fellowship will man- ifest itself in the life ; and on the other hand, by what signs it is to be known that no such fel- lowship exists. " If w^e say that we have fellow- ship with him and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth : but if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin." The thought here lying at the basis is this : that since all spiritual fellowship presupposes an affinity of nature, and this inward fellowship of nature must also have an outward manifestation in the life ; so no fellowship with God can exist without a life 31 conformed to God. Since then God is liglit, fel- lowship witli him must manifest itself through a life which is full of light ; fellowship with the God whose nature is holiness, through a holj^ course of life. John does not here mean a qual- ity of the life- walk required for the first attain- ment of fellowship with God ; but assuming this divine fellowship of life, received through faith in the Eedeemer, as already existing, his object is to point out the tests, whether the claim to sucli a fellowship be true or false, — whether the Chris- tianity which is professed be a true, or merely a seeming and pretended one. This thought is ex- pressed, in John's peculiar manner, both in the negative and affirmative form. He first says, in opposition to that mere seeming Christianity, that he who leads an ungodly life, and yet claims to be in fellowship with God, thereby makes himself guilty of a lie. Full of significance is the expres- sion, '^ We do not the truth" ; an expression be- longing to the depth of conception peculiar to John. With Him truth is not limited in its aj)- plication to speech merely ; it embraces the entire life. The entire life has its root either in false- hood or in truth. Truthfulness in speech is but 32 one index of that tiutli which embraces, fills, vital- izes the whole inner and outer life. Hence, of one who makes claim to something which is con- tradicted by his course of life it is said, that his whole life is alien from the truth, that he does not practice the truth, that his life is chargeable with falsehood. Speech appears also as an action ; — - " We DO not the truth." In contrast with this, John designates " Walk- ing in the Light," in holiness, as a mark of fellow- ship with God who is in the light, wdio reveals himself in holiness. " If we walk in the light as He is in the light, then have we fellowship one with another." He does not speak here directly of fellow^ship with God, but of the fellowship of believers with one another ; but in this is necessa- rily presupposed fellow^ship with God through Christ, as that from w^hich the fellowship of be- lievers with one another first proceeds. John thus distinguishes between those who belong, as true members, to the fellowship of Christians (in other words to the church, a designation never used by John) and those who belong to it only in appearance and not in truth, those whose pre- tensions are contradicted by their ungodly life. 33 Fellowsliip with God, as eifected througli Christ, , and the fellowship of believers with each other, is here one and the same thing. If now the hfe of believers while here on earth were already a perfect fellowship with God, if their course of life were a walking in the light free from darkness of every kind, and unstained by any farther act of sin, then John would have had no occasion to add anything more. But he was well aware that even in believers, although their life is in its determining tendency a walking in the light, yet the dark, the sinful, still mingle with it, their disturbing influence; the former stand-point of darkness and sin, from which re- demption has set them free, still remains in its ef- fects. Hence, this " walking in the light" must be developed in a continuous conflict wdth the former darkness; from the light already received, the whole life must be gradually transformed into light. And hence, in reference to that sinfulness which still cleaves to the believer and opjDOses it- self to the light, he says, that where that walking in the light exists as the determining tendency, the mark of fellowship with God, there the blood of 34 Jesns Christ will make known its i^urifying efficacy, its power to cleanse from all still inhering sin. In the purification through the blood of Christ, we are obviously not to understand the blood of Christ literally, nor an outward literal purification by it, anymore than the sprinkling of the conscience with the blood of Christ, spoken of in the Epistle to the Hebrews, is to be so understood. Only a spiritual cleansing can here be meant, and conse- quently only a spiritual means of cleansing. It is necessary to refer back the sensible imagery to the thought imaged therein. It is the language of the Holy Scriptures, the language of life ; according to which one characteristic of the whole is put for the whole itself; and especially is that which ap- pears as the crowning point put for the whole with all its characteristics, so that the single character- istic must be conceived of in that connection, in union with the sum of all the others, in order to be rightly understood. The blood of Christ, then, must be conceived of in its full significance, as it was present to the view of the Apostle, viz. as both a Doing and a Suffering ; it being on the one hand a suffering for the guilt of humanity, and presenting on the other, in the perfect holiness of 35 the life of Christ, an offset to the sin of humanity, a thought which we shall hereafter find still fur- ther developed in other expressions of John. Since now this suffering of Christ, once for all, possesses this redeeming and purifying significance, it con- tinues to perform its work in all those who through faith enter into fellowship with Christ, till all in them that is sinful shall be cleansed away, and all be transformed into light. In this idea of purifi- cation two distinct things are included ; namely, first, that the sin Avhich yet remains shall no longer form a hindrance to fellowship with God, it shall be as if already done away, — the forgive- ness of sins j and secondly, that the still operating sinful element shall actually be more and more cleansed away, — the progressive purification of the whole life. All this is an ever progressing ap- propriation of the once perfected redemption. So in what John here says, we find two different things expressed. It is assumed that there is sin yet cleaving to those who are walking in light ; though in fellowship with Christ, they are still in constant need of redemption through him, in con- stant need of him as the Redeemer ; that we who are walking in the light with Christ in us, have 36 also still need of Christ foe us. To those who, while walking uprightly in the light, are yet daily conscious to themselves of the still remaining in- fluence of sin ; who cannot but perceive in their own life much whereby the light which is in them is darkened, and who might be disquieted in con- science, when told that only those who walk in the light can stand in fellowship with God who is Light ; to them is offered the consoling assurance of entire jDurification from their yet inhering sin. But the Apostle guards also against the self-decep- tion of those, who trust to purification through the blood of Christ without a course of life cor- responding to such an expectation, without the outward signs of an inward divine fellowship of life through Christ. Only those are to expect this purification, who, through the determining tendency of their lives, make it manifest that they stand in that divine fellowship and are sanc- tified thereby. Thus the close connection between the Christ in us and the Christ foe us, is here in- dicated. But it is the Apostle's aim to meet the mistake on both sides ; on the one hand, as held by those who suppose they may trust to Christ 37 for us, witliout the Christ in us ; and on the other, by those who think that with the Christ in us, there is no longer need of the Christ for us, and who look upon themselves as already free from sin. He therefore continues to urge, in opposition to the latter view, the still remaining need of re- demption on the part of the sanctified: "If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." If then those who are walking in the light, suppose themselves to be al- ready entirely free from sin, feel not the perpetual consciousness of its still indwelling power ; this to John is an indication of self-deception, a token that the truth has not yet become the ruling ele- ment in the inner and outer life. It is clear that he here makes no exception, that he includes him- self also among those who are still defiled wdth. sin. The two succeeding verses have reference also to the believer's ever-continued need of [Ch. i. 9, 10. redemption and purification. " If we con- fess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteous- ness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us." 38 The ground for the believer's confidence, under this consciousness of still inhering sin, is thus pre- sented by the Apostle in the faithfulness and righteousness of God. For the faithfulness of God includes in itself his truthful fulfilment of the promises which he has given. It necessarily implies, that what he has promised he will cer- tainly bestow, provided only that believers on their part meet the condition affixed to the fulfil- ment of the promise. By the faithfulness of God is meant, the harmony of his action with itself and with his own natui-e. It is implied therein, that He will certainly perform what his word, his promises, the wants implanted in the soul and waked into conscious life by his providence, have taught men to expect from Him ; that his dealings with men will certainly be in accordance with the wants and expectations thus excited ; that in his dealings all parts will correspond, beginning mid- dle and end will be in harmony ; no contradiction, no discord in any part. Since then God is truth, it must follow as a necessary consequence that, having through his word, through the sending of the Redeemer and his sufferings for humanity, through the influence of his spirit upon their 39 hearts, promised forgiveness of sin to those who Ix-lieve; he will assuredly suffer nothing of this to fail, he will fulfil the promise which he has given, if they will but conform to the conditions with which the promise is connected. But righteous- ness is here conjoined with faithfulness. This might at first seem strange. We should rather expect that forgiveness of sins would he repre- sented as an act of divine love and mercy. But we must here seek for a relation, according to which forgiveness of sin can properly be ascribed to the divine righteousness. The true index to the Apostle's meaning is found in the union here of faithfulness with righteousness. Righteousness, then, must here be understood in a sense akin to faithfulness. Now we call him righteous who gives to each one his own, to each his due, what his position, the relation in which he stands to the other, give the right to expect. God's righteous- ness is manifested in the observance of the laws which he has himself established in the moral world. Its office is the administration of these laws. Redemption, the forgiveness of sin, is in- deed primarily the work of divine love ; yet, that Drovision being once brought about through his 40 love and mercy, the divine rigliteousness now re- veals itself in the observance of the laws, accord- ing to which redemption and forgiveness are to be bestowed on man, — in the administration of the order established in the work of redemption. God, the Righteous, gives to each what belongs to him; he truly performs what the redeemed, as such, have reason to expect of him under the given conditions. The original provision is the fruit of divine love ; the administration of its established laws, the work of divine righteousness. Hence, in this view, the divine righteousness stands in close relation to the divine faithfulness ; and is the pledge that if the redeemed fulfil the laws, the conditions, according to which and under which forgiveness is to be imparted, God will truly be- stow on them the forgiveness promised, will com- plete Avhat he has Ijegun, that he will do his part if the redeemed do theirs. The condition to be fulfilled on the part of the believer, is expressed in the words : " If we con- fess our sins." Of course it is not an outward con- fession of sin which is here spoken of, but an in- ward act, grounded in the whole inward direction of the spirit ; as that which is thereby to be ap- 41 propriated and received, that for wliich man is thereby to be made meet, is also something purely inward. It is therefore that inward confession of sin before God, — the consciousness of sin both in general, and in its manifestation in particular sin- ful acts, — whereby, in a spiritual sense, man draws near to God. In this it is necessarily implied, that he is deeply penetrated with the sense of still in- hering sin ; recognizes the sinful as such in all its single forms ; and with a deep feeling of sorrow on account of it, begs of God forgiveness of sin and purification from all remaining sinful tendency. All communications of God to man, — man, to whom God imparts himself not after a law of nat- ural necessity, not by a process of constraint, but as to a being gifted with freedom, — are conditioned on his own voluntary acceptance, the fj'ee surren- der of himself to the divine communication. As in the words of our Lord, God is represented as giving only to those who pray (and prayer is noth- ing else than this direction of the spirit towards God in the feeling of personal want) so here, con- fession of sin is made the necessary condition of that gift of God, which consists in the forgiveness of sin, as evidence of the free appropriating ac- 42 cej)taTice of the blessing. AVitli forgiveness of sin is here conjoined the cleansing from all unright- eousness. This would not have been added, unless something new, something additional, were to be designated by it; as indicated by the emphatic expression : " feo^i all uneighteousness." We cannot but perceive that a distinction is here made between forgiveness of sin, and the progressive work of purification from all remaining sin. With the forgiveness of past sin, is necessarily connected purification from all the sin which still remains, as a security against relapse into like sins. To that afiirmative proposition, the negative is now added. With the confession of sin is con- trasted the boastful declaration, and of course the inward view and feelinsr which dictates it: "We have no sin." This implies first, that he who says it is wholly unconscious of still inhering sin, that he regards himself as sinless. In this again two things are included, viz. first, that he has no un- derstanding of what is implied in a sinless state, of the true nature of tliat holiness for which man was created, and for which he is to be new created, to be born again ; and that he has not rightly com- pared himself with that standard which he is re- 43 quired to reach, has not examined and tested him- self by the model of the divine word, in the mirror of the divine law, in the divine light. Angl secondly, it is implied that he does n(jt recognize the sinful as such in its particular acts, but has learnt to palliate it to himself, to deceive his conscience in regard to it. The guilt and the perverseness of such a position is now represented by the Apostle as consisting in this, viz. that it makes God a liar; that is, by such a position we show that we regard God as a liar, we deny him as the God of truth. First, inasmuch as the word of God uniformly rej^resents us as sinners, and seeks to awaken in us a consciousness of our sins ; we, by declaring that we have no sin, accuse the word of God, and God himself speaking through it, of falsehood. Secondly, since God in sending to us Jesus as the Redeemer from sin, has thereby de- clared that we are ever in need of continued re- demption ; we make him guilty of a lie, — assert- ing by this position of ours, that although it is through Christ we have attained to our present state of religious development, yet as being now sinless, we are no longer in need of him as Re- deemer. Hence the Apostle charges upon such, 44 tliat tlie word of God is not in them ; an expres- sion equivalent to the former declaration, that the truth is not in them. By it is meant, that the word of God does not dwell in such as the ani- mating princi];)le of their inner life, or that they do not dwell in it ; Avhich is one with saying that the truth dwells not in them as their life-element, that their life is alienated from the truth. Though in their external profession they acknowledge the word of God, they have not given it an abode in their inner life and consciousness. Their judgment of themselves is in contradiction to it. The word of God is to them a merely external thing. CHAPTER II. The Apostle now turns to those for whose sake he writes, as a father to his children. Ad- dressing them personally as his children, he presses home upon their hearts a spiritual father's admonitory words : " My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not." The expression, "these things," glances back to that main topic which had been his starting-point, viz. that it is only while walking in the light, that we can be certain of that divine fellowship of life be- stowed through Christ. But with this all that follows is connected, and to all this the expression has reference. All which he had said to them respecting the sin still cleaving to the christian, and of the progressive redemption from it for which they may hope, has had for its aim, not to make them lenient towar