Bible Commentaries

XXI. The Secret of Sinlessness—Abiding in the Sinless One as Manifested to Take Away Our Sins

"Whosoever committeth sin transgresseth also the law; for sin is the transgression of the law. And ye know that he was manifested to take away our sins; and in him is no sin. Whosoever abideth in him sinneth not: whosoever sinneth hath not seen him, neither known him."— 1 John 3:4-6

FOUR arguments against committing sin, or transgressing the law, are here suggested; all of them connected with him whose essential purity is to be our model in purifying ourselves: I. The end or design of his manifestation,—"to take away our sins;" II. His own sinlessness,—"in him is no sin;" III. Our oneness with him,—"whosoever abideth in him sinneth not;" IV. The incompatibility of sin with any real acquaintance with him,—"whosoever sinneth hath not seen him, neither known him." The four may be reduced to two: the first and second being, as it were, doctrinal; the third and fourth experimental: the former turning on what he is to us, as our Saviour; the latter, on what we are in him as his saved ones.

I. "Ye know that he was manifested to take away our sins; and in him is no sin" ( 1 John 3:5).

Let us consider, in the first place, for what end he was manifested; it was to "take away our sins." Some would understand this phrase as denoting here exclusively the cleansing of our nature from its sinful lusts and habits; and as having no distinct reference at all to the removal of contracted guilt. It is admitted that when the phrase occurs elsewhere it is the taking away of guilt by means of atoning blood that is meant; as in the Baptist's testimony, "Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world" ( John 1:29). But it is contended that here that thought is somewhat irrelevant, since it is moral purification, and not legal satisfaction or legal purging, sanctification in a moral, and not in a legal or sacrificial sense, that John is speaking of; and since, moreover, he seems to make that depend rather on what the Son is manifested to be, than on what he is manifested to do; on his person rather than on his work. There is no doubt truth in these remarks. But I cannot help thinking that they have led to an unnecessary and undue limitation of the force and fullness of this pregnant phrase. I would not, in that other passage, restrict it to the mere legal removal of the guilt of the world's sin, without including in it also the removal of the sin itself, in its moral pollution and power. Nor am I inclined here to shut out the idea of the expiation of the gulls of our sins, though the other idea of moral purification from them is confessedly the uppermost or leading one. In fact, the two are inseparable: they are really one. I can scarcely conceive of John pointing to the manifestation of him in whom is no sin, as a source of moral purity, as taking away our sins out of our nature, without having in his mind, and wishing us to have in our mind, as a material part of the process by which that object is attained, his taking away our sins out of the record of their guilt, "the book of God's remembrance."

It confirms this view to remember that John has just described sin as "the transgression of the law" ( 1 John 3:4). He has fastened upon this as constituting the essence of sin, that it is against law. He is of the same mind with Paul, in that saying of his,—"The carnal mind is enmity against God; for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be" ( Romans 8:7). Revelation 20:3, and , Hebrews 5:8-9.)

II. With this sinless person we are one; "abiding in him as the sinless one manifested to take away our sins." And that is our security against sinning—"Whosoever abideth in him sinneth not."

This is the statement of a fact. It is not the enforcing of a duty, as if it were said,—whosoever abideth in him should not sin, and must not sin; let him not sin. It is not even the drawing of an inference or the announcement of what will probably be, and may be expected to be, the issue of oneness with the Lord, as if it ran thus,—whosoever abideth in him will not sin, or is not likely to sin. It is the broad statement of a present fact,—"Whosoever abideth in him sinneth not;" as is also the converse—"Whosoever sinneth hath not seen him, neither known him." Between abiding in Christ and sinning there is such an absolute incompatibility, that whosoever sinneth is for the time not merely in the position of not abiding in Christ, but in the position of not having seen or known him. In so far as he is sinning, his is virtually the very same case with that of the man who has never either seen or known Christ. The statement is very emphatic and very categorical. It is more than a mere assertion of a sort of moral inconsistency or incongruity, a certain manifest unsuitableness, in the view of common-sense and right feeling. It is an assertion of absolute incompatibility, in the nature of things; and it is a very strong assertion of that, put in two forms, positively and negatively, to make it all the stronger. Let us see how it must be so.

1. We abide in Christ by faith; by that faith, wrought in us by the Spirit, which unites us to Christ. Our abiding in him by this faith implies oneness; real and actual oneness; not oneness only in the eye of the law, so that we are regarded and treated as one, in the Judge's dealings with him for us, and with us in him; not oneness merely in the sense of an ordinary alliance or partnership, with a community of goods and interests, of lives and fortunes; but real and actual oneness of nature. As the husband and the wife are made of twain one flesh; so Christ and we are one spirit. "He that is joined unto the Lord is one spirit." Our abiding in him is our realising this oneness. It is our apprehending ourselves to be consciously one with him, of the same nature, of the same mind, with him, of the same way of thinking and feeling with him. It implies our taking the same view that he does of all things, of God and his law, of righteousness and sin, of guilt and judgment, of holiness and grace and love; our entertaining the same sentiments with reference to them all. It is this which secures our closing with him at first as our Saviour, and carries our consent to his saving us in his own way and on his own terms, so glorifying to the Father, so costly to him, so gracious to us. It is this also which ever after secures our not sinning. We cannot be thus abiding in Christ, realising our oneness of mind and nature with him, and at the same time sinning. The thought or feeling of opposition to the law, or of impatience under it; the wish that we were more free to act as we choose; is no thought or feeling or wish of his: for "in him is no sin." When we sin, when we suffer any such thought or feeling or wish to find harbour in our breasts; we cease for the time to be abiding in him. Between him and us, not then and there abiding in him, there is really as entire a separation as if we had never seen or known him: as wide and deep a gulf as that which lay between the rich man in hell and Lazarus in Abraham's bosom. It is not fixed like that gulf; not yet. But let us beware lest it become fixed. Let us be thankful that it may still be made to disappear. And let us remember that this can only be through our repenting again, as at the beginning,—believing again, as if we had never believed before,—embracing the Lord Jesus, as if now for the first time we saw and knew him,—"doing the first works,"—becoming anew and afresh, by the grace of the Spirit, "members of Christ's body, of his flesh and of his bones,"—getting shut up into him anew and afresh, so as to be again of one mind and heart with him, abiding once more in him in whom is no sin. For we may be very sure that when we sin, we are none the better for all that we have seen or known of Christ; none the safer. It is the same thing to us as if we had never seen him, neither known him at all. (Compare the exposition in Lecture VI.)

2. We abide in Christ by his Spirit abiding in us. That is a filial spirit—the Spirit of God's Son in us crying Abba Father—the Spirit of adoption whereby we cry Abba Father. A servile frame of mind grieves and vexes the Holy Spirit, and hinders his continuing to dwell in us. He dwells in us only when we cry Abba Father, and therefore sin not. Sin is ever the fruit of that servile frame of mind which is characteristic of one that has not seen or known the Son. Abiding in him, through his Spirit abiding in us, we have a filial heart towards God. And a filial heart "sinneth not." For a filial heart has no temptation and no desire to go against the will, or the law, of the righteous Father.

From all this we may see how the stress of practical exhortations against sin is to be brought to bear upon a child of God; upon us, who are children in the Son. For it is very important that there should be exhortation, direct and pointed. It is not enough to put the matter in the form of doctrinal statement or anticipated consequence; as if we said: Being God's children in Christ you do not sin; or you will not sin. It is good for you to hear a voice of authority and command: Sin not. And yet that is not the way in which the matter is put here. It is not an order issued, but a fact announced; "whosoever abideth in him sinneth not." What then? Is the hortatory method to be given up? Nay; it is only necessary to shift a little, as it were, the point of its application. I state it as a fact that whosoever abideth in him sinneth not. And therefore I issue the command: Abide in him, It is his own command "Abide in me." And that is the right position for the hortatory or commanding mode of appeal. If you would not sin; that you may not sin; that it may be impossible for you to sin—"abide in him who was manifested to take away your sins, and in whom is no sin." Cleave to him; grow up into him; get into his mind; drink into his spirit. Enter into the design of his being manifested, and into the way in which, being manifested, he accomplishes that design. Enter into the secret of his sinlessness. Keep close to him, abide in him, and sin not.

And forget not the positive, any more than the negative, result of your abiding in him; your "bringing forth much fruit" ( John 15:5). For it is only in the line of the positive, in the line of bearing fruit, that you can be sure even of the negative,—not sinning. Nay, if your negatively not sinning is the effect of your abiding in Christ, it really resolves itself into your actually and positively bearing fruit, and becomes identical with it. "In him is no sin;" no rebellion against that will of God which he comes to do; no insubordination to that law of God which is within his heart; nothing that hinders, or possibly can hinder, his doing that will and keeping that law always and thoroughly. You "abide in him and sin not." You have in you now nothing more than he had, in so far as you abide in him, of that sullen, slavish, selfish frame of mind; bent on getting its own way, and doing its-own pleasure; grudging God and men their due; which hinders all cheerful, loyal obedience. You therefore, abiding in him, in whom is no sin, that there may be no sin in you, go about with Into doing good. Yours is that "pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father," which is this, "to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction," as well as to keep "yourselves unspotted from the world."

XXII. The Secret of Sinlessness—Our Abiding in Christ—The Seed of God Abiding in Us—Our Being Born of God

"Whosoever abideth in him sinneth not: whosoever sinneth hath not seen him, neither known him. . . Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin; for his seed remaineth [abideth] in him: and he cannot sin, because he is born of God."— 1 John 3:6; 1 John 3:9 (I reserve the exposition of the intermediate verses, because I think they can be best considered after we have as far as possible ascertained the sense in which it is said of believers in Christ that they do not and cannot sin.)

THESE strong statements—that one abiding in Christ does not sin, and that one born of God cannot sin;—are often perplexing, not to say distressing, to serious minds. How is it if I am forced to ask. I sin, every day, every hour, every moment, I may say, in thought or word or deed. Must I therefore conclude that I am not in Christ; not born of God? It is a real practical difficulty. Let us fairly grapple with it.

I. These texts do not teach, either the doctrine of perfection, or that other doctrine which is apt to usurp its place; the doctrine that God sees no sin in his people, or that what would be sin in others is not sin in them. When I say that this latter doctrine is apt to supplant the other, I do not mean that all who believe in the perfection or perfectibility of the saints on earth are antinomians. I speak simply of what I hold to be a strong tendency in the nature of things I am told that it is possible for a Christian to live without sinning; that he may be so sanctified as to be incapable of sinning; that such holiness is attainable; nay, that no one can be long a Christian without attaining it; that no one can be sure of his Christianity unless he has attained it. But I see in the most Christian of men, I feel in myself in my most Christian mood, much that is not easily reconcilable with this immaculate sinlessness, unless I can persuade myself that what looks very like sin is not really sin. I am tempted to do so; to defend, on the ground of Christian character, what otherwise Iwould give over to just condemnation; to stand up for the harmlessness in a believer of ways that would confessedly hurt or ruin the unconverted. And so I really open the door to those perversions of such texts as, "He that is spiritual is judged of no 1 John 3:6). Never, at any moment, may I reckon on a past act of God towards me,—his calling me, justifying me, adopting me in his Son; or a past work of God in me,—his regenerating me by his Spirit;—as giving me any present confidence, if my present state is one of sin. Not only is this not right; I believe it to be impossible. I believe that no man ever yet felt himself secure in sinning now, on the ground of his having been brought to "see and know" Christ long ago. His feeling of security, in so far as he has such a feeling, does not really spring from that belief as to the past, but from ignorance now of Christ and of God; from present unbelief. For the present, he is an unbeliever, not seeing or knowing Christ; no better than if he had never seen or known him. The moment he comes again to believe, and has his eyes opened to see and know Christ; Christ looking on him when he is sinning as he looked on Peter;—security there is none; confidence there is none; only bitter weeping. He repents, and does the first works. He believes, as if he had never believed before. He realises again, as at the first, his abiding in Christ and God's seed abiding in him. Our sinning, therefore; our feeling it to be possible for us to sin; is in fact, and as a practical matter, absolutely incompatible with our abiding in Christ and being born of God. We are only really abiding in Christ, and consciously and influentially, if I may say 1 John 3:7-8

THESE verses are embedded, as it were, between the two already considered ( 1 John 3:6 and 1 John 3:9); which teach what may be called the secret of sinlessness as a possible attainment, and one that a child of God must apprehend and realise. They fit into that theme, placing in marked contrast the two opposite lines of conduct,—"doing righteousness and doing sin,"—and tracing them up to their respective sources, a righteous nature on the one hand, indicating a divine birth; and a sinful nature on the other, betraying a devilish origin. Thus they shut out the very idea of any mixture of the two characters, or anything intermediate between the two. Thus also they connect the argument with the introductory statement at the beginning of this second part of the epistle, "If ye know that God is righteous, ye know that every one that doeth righteousness is born of God" ( 1 John 2:29). For this doing righteousness, which at once implies and tests our being born of him who is righteous, must evince a family likeness to him, or a participation of nature with him. It must, therefore, be very thorough and complete, and cannot be compatible with doing sin. For that, evincing an opposite family likeness and participation in an opposite nature, points not to a divine birth or our being born of God, but to a very different parentage, our being of the devil.

The passage before us opens accordingly with a very solemn warning: "Little children, let no man deceive you." It assumes an urgent and serious danger. There are those who will do their utmost to deceive you, and the point on which they will try to deceive you is a very vital one. It is so all the rather because it is one on which your own hearts may be but too willing to be deceived. It turns upon the indissoluble connection that there is between being and doing; between character and conduct; between what a man is and how he acts.

The false teachers of John's day held that one might reach in some mysterious way a height of serene, inviolable, inward purity and peace, such as no things without, not even his own actions, could stain. In a less transcendental form, the same sort of notion practically prevails in the world. It used perhaps to be more common than it is now to give a person credit for having right principles, though his practice might be often wrong; to admit his claim to a good heart, in spite of his habits being to a large extent bad. But the delusion is one against which we still need to be cautioned.

John meets it by bringing out in marked contrast the two opposite natures, one or other of which we must all share; that of God and that of the devil. As it is the nature of God to be righteous, so it is the nature of every one who is born of God to be righteous also. So he who is pre-eminently the Son of God is righteous; and we who are children of God in him are righteous as he is righteous. But his being righteous necessitates his doing righteousness; to imagine otherwise in his case would be a profane calumny. So also to think that we can be righteous as he is righteous, if our being righteous does not necessitate our doing righteousness, must be a gross and grievous delusion. On the other hand, it is the devil's, nature to be evil; and being evil, he cannot but be doing evil. If we are doing evil, doing sin; that proves our identity of nature with the devil; we are of the devil. And being of the devil, the originator of sin,—sinning from the beginning,—we cannot be children of God as Christ is his Son. For he was manifested for this very purpose, that he might destroy the works of the devil.

Let us consider the three steps in this argument, as thus adjusted.

I. "He that doeth righteousness is righteous, even as Christ is righteous." It is clearly moral character that is here in question, not legal standing. There is no reference to Christ's vicarious righteousness; its imputation to us through our oneness with him by faith, and our consequent justification in the sight of God. That doctrine, so clearly revealed elsewhere underlies, as we have already seen, the whole of John's teaching in this epistle. But to import it into this passage is to destroy the sense. Of course it is equally destructive of the sense to use the passage as a support to the doctrine of justification by works, as if it meant that the doer of righteousness is thereby, on the ground of his personal doing of righteousness, justified or accounted righteous before God. John is not thinking of justification at all, but rather of sanctification; of holiness of life being inseparable from holiness-of nature. The precise lesson taught, the great principle asserted, is that righteousness, moral righteousness, cannot possibly exist in a quiescent or inactive state; that it never can be a latent power or undeveloped quality; that wherever it is it must be operative. It must be working, and working according to its own essential nature. Moreover, it must be working, not partially but universally; working everywhere and always; working in and upon whatever it comes in contact with, in the mind within and the world without. Otherwise, it is not righteousness at all; certainly not such as we see in Jesus; it is not "being righteous as he is righteous." Therefore being righteous and doing righteousness are not twain, but one; one in the very nature of things, by divine ordination and arrangement. God has joined them; and what God has joined man may not put asunder. The attempt to separate them on either side, or to confound them, is a fatal error.

Hence those err who would sink the being in the doing as if the doing were all in all,—quite as much as those who would divorce the doing from the being, and leave the being all alone.

"He can't be wrong whose life is in the right," is a perilous half-truth. Doing righteousness, in the sense of merely leading what is called a virtuous life, being irreproachable in manners, and performing acts of kindness, may thus be made to constitute the sum and substance of religion and morality. Evidently that is not John's teaching. On the contrary, it is with the inward frame of mind that he is chiefly occupied; it is about the heart being right with God that he is concerned. The very righteousness, pure and holy, which is the distinguishing characteristic or attribute of the moral character of God, is to become the attribute of ours, as it is of Christ's. Far from undervaluing, or as it were postponing, the inward, or being righteous; he lays on that the whole stress of his appeal about the outward, or doing righteousness. For the very reason of his appeal is this, that if there be not the being there cannot be the doing; and therefore, on the other hand, if there be the doing, it proves and insures the being.

This last is the important practical consideration here. But it is so only when we rightly understand what doing righteousness, in John's notion of it, really is. It is not merely performing righteous actions; doing things that are in themselves, or in their own essential nature, right and good. The abstract form righteousness is significant and all-important. To do a righteous deed is one thing: to be doing righteousness in the doing of it is another. The difference may be immense.

Jesus "went about doing good." And in doing good he was ever doing righteousness. For he did good because he knew that to do good is to do what is righteous in the judgment of the righteous Father. He did good, not as doing himself a pleasure or his fellow-men a service, but as doing the Father's righteous will. To do good thus is to do righteousness indeed. Viewing it in that light, we cannot err, or go too far, in the way of identifying it with being righteous. So to do righteousness is really to be righteous; in the highest and holiest sense; according to the most perfect type and model; "even as Christ is righteous." It is a vain dream, a fond imagination, for any of us to aspire to being righteous in any other manner or after any other fashion. The humble path of obedience to the righteous Father,—the consistent doing of righteousness as we know, and because we know, that God is righteous ( 1 John 2:29),—is practically being righteous, So Christ, the Son of God, is the Father's righteous servant, doing the Father's righteousness. So let us, as born of God, be the Father's righteous servants in Christ; doing righteousness as Christ does righteousness, and being righteous as Christ is righteous.

II. As "doing righteousness,"—through its being thus associated or identified with "being righteous as the Son is righteous,"—proves our being "born of God;" so "doing sin" proves a very different relationship, a very different paternity. "He that committeth" or doeth "sin is of the devil." That is his genealogy or pedigree. And the reason is plain. The devil is the author of sin; it is he who "sinneth from the beginning." The "doer of sin" cannot, as such, have any other father than the originator of sin. And he cannot repudiate the ancestry. It is fastened upon him by the same law or principle which enables "the doer of righteousness" to claim kindred with the righteous Father, in respect of his "being righteous as his own Son is righteous." The medium of proof is the same. It is this, that what one does is really what one is; the doing being the index or identification of the being. "He that committeth" or doeth "sin is of the devil;" for, by doing sin, he shows his identity of nature with him who is a sinner from the beginning. And it is upon identity of nature, proved practically, that the question of moral and spiritual parentage must ultimately turn.

That is the question which John raises here, and to which he afterwards returns ( 1 John 3:10). It is with a view to that question that he lays down the essential moral truth involved in his two contrasted propositions or arguments; first, "He that doeth righteousness is righteous, even as Romans 8:7). The essence of sin is refusing to be subject to law, That is the sin which "the devil sinneth from the beginning;" he sinneth by insubordination. That is his nature, his natural life. And he put the seed of it in us when he said to Eve, "Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree in the garden?"

This phrase, therefore—"being of the devil,"—as used here and elsewhere in Scripture, does not imply what in human opinion would be accounted great criminality or gross immorality. To call any one a devil, or a child of the devil, is to impute to him, according to ordinary notions, an extreme depravity. We paint the great Apostate Spirit in the blackest colours of foul pollution, rancorous hate, and wanton cruelty; and it is only monsters of vice among ourselves that we characterise as satanic. Thus we extricate ourselves from the shame of so discreditable a lineage as is involved in being of the devil. But neither John nor his Master will let us off so easily. The sin which lost Satan heaven was neither lust nor murder. It was not carnal at all, but merely spiritual. It was not even lying, at least not at first,—though "he is a liar, and the father of it." It was pure and simple insubordination and rebellion; the setting of his will against God's; the proud refusal, at the Father's bidding, to worship the Son. So "the devil sinneth from the beginning." And when you so sin, you are of your father the devil. Peter was sinning in that way when Jesus called him Satan. There was nothing of what we might be inclined to stigmatise as satanic in his very natural wish to arrest his Master's fatal journey. It was an impulse of generous affection which burst out in the expostulation," Be it far from thee." But he was "of the devil" then, notwithstanding. Therefore Jesus said to him, "Get thee behind me, Satan; thou art an offence unto me" ( Matthew 16:23). Not saying it thyself, thou wouldst hinder me from saying to my Father, "Thy will be done." And that is devil's work.

In order then to enter into the full meaning of John's solemn testimony, it is not needful to wait till some horrid access of diabolic fury or frenzy seizes us. It is enough if "the tongue speaketh proud things," or the heart conceives them. "Our lips are our own; who is lord over us?" Or, why are they not our own? May they not at least occasionally be our own,—this once; for singing one Vain Revelation 22:3.)

This, however, is not all; it is only a small part of what he does in destroying, to me and to all his people, the works of the devil. The Son of God might have been manifested as sustaining the very character of a servant, under authority and law, which the devil found, and which the devil makes me find, so provocative of an inward sense of impatience and spirit of rebellion; and he might have been manifested as sustaining that character in such a way as to win me over to the conviction that it 1 John 3:10-12

THE antagonism between the righteous Father and the great adversary, and between their respective seeds or offsprings, is here announced in such a way as to run it up to a very precise point. The question to which of the two you belong; which of the two parentages or fatherhoods, God's or the devil's, is really yours; is brought to a narrow issue. It is put negatively; and it is all the more searching on that account. The want of righteous doing, the absence of brotherly love, is conclusive against your being of God; "Whosoever doeth not righteousness is not of God, neither he that loveth not his brother." These two things are here virtually identified; or the one is represented as implying the other. The general is now made particular; what was general and abstract, "doing righteousness" ( 1 John 2:29), is now reduced to a particular practical test, "loving one's brother." What sort of love is here meant will appear more clearly as we proceed. It John 13:34, and John 16:12-17).

But may not "the beginning" be held to date, not from Christ's teaching, but from the real beginning of the gospel, immediately after the fall? Does not the mention of Cain indicate as much? Is not the law or message of love in question that which was violated in the beginning, when Cain, being of that wicked one, slew his brother?

God's commandment, heard from the beginning, is that we should love another. Therefore "he that loveth not his brother doeth not righteousness,"—the righteousness required to make good or verify the fact of his being "born of God." He "committeth or doeth sin;" the sin which is "the transgression of the law." He is "of the devil;" like Cain, who "was of that wicked one, and slew his brother."

We are thus carried back to the earliest manifestation of the distinction between the children of God and the children of the devil in the old familiar history of Cain and Abel.

Of Abel little is recorded in the history. But it is plainly implied, in what is said of him here, that he loved his brother. We read that "Cain talked with Abel his brother." And we read this in immediate connection with what the Lord said to Cain on the subject of his rejected offering;—"But unto Cain, and to his offering, he had not respect. And Cain was very wroth, and his countenance fell. And the Lord said unto Cain, Why art thou wroth? and why is thy countenance fallen? If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin"—a sin-offering —"lieth at the door"—at thy disposal, and available for thee. After that "Cain talked with Abel his brother." It is in that connection that we read of his doing so.

It is not needful to suppose that his talk was, at least in the first instance, a deliberate plot to draw his intended victim into his power. It is quite probable, or rather more than probable, that the conversation began in good faith. The walk of the brothers in the field may have been as much without any purpose on the one side, as without any suspicion on the other, of anything like treachery or violence. It is quite natural that Cain should have talked with Abel his brother. And the talk might turn on the recent incident of the two acts of worship; on the disappointment which Cain had experienced, and the explanation of it which the Lord had been pleased to give him. That "Cain was still wroth, and his countenance still fallen," we may well believe. He has not been able to bring himself to submit to God and his righteousness. He is in no mood for being amiable to one who seems to him to be a favoured rival. But he does not meditate actual wrong. He would startle at the thought of fratricide, when the talk with Abel his brother begins.

As it goes on, we may imagine Abel, warmly and affectionately enforcing the gospel message which Cain has just got from heaven; opening up its gracious meaning; trying to persuade his misjudging brother that there is really no respect of persons with God, no partiality for one above the other; but that for both alike there is acceptance, as well-doers, if they can claim to stand on that footing, and for both alike, if not well-doers, a sin-offering at the door and at command;—as near to thee, brother, as to me, as available for thee as for me, as much at thy service as at mine;—thine, as freely as it is mine, if thou wilt but have it to be thine.

Had I, brother, sought acceptance as a well-doer, needing no atoning blood of the slain lamb, coming merely with a tribute of grateful homage, the Lord would have had as little respect to me and my offering as he had to thee and thine. Nay, less. I must have been more decidedly and justly rejected; for of sinners I am chief. But, in my sin, I looked and saw the sin-offering at my door. And, brother, it lieth at thy door too, if thou wilt but consent, as a sinner, to make use of it. Has not our God been telling thee so? Is not this his gospel to thee as well as to me?

Is it too much to conceive of righteous Abel thus manifesting his being of God; thus doing righteousness and loving his brother? Is it at all conceivable that he should deal otherwise with his brother, or not deal thus with him, while Cain gave him the opportunity, by talking with him in the field? Could anything else be the burden of the talk than his beseeching his brother to be reconciled to God by the sacrifice of the slain lamb?

And is it not just by his manner of requiting such brotherly dealing with him on the part of Abel that Cain manifests his being of that wicked one? Is not that the explanation of his slaying him. For "wherefore slew he him"? Because his own works were evil, and his brothers righteous."

That was the real reason; though of course he did not avow it to himself. Probably he was not conscious of it. He had some plausible plea of self-justification or of self-excuse. His younger brother took too much upon him; affecting to be on a better footing with God than he was, and to be entitled to dictate and prescribe to him. It was bad enough that God should have rejected his plea of well-doing, or of righteousness; and bid him come, not with "God I thank thee" on his proud lips, but with "God be merciful to me a sinner" in his broken heart. That one who is his junior in age, and in strength so completely at his mercy, should press the same humiliating lesson, is more than he can stand. He cannot reach God; else his anger would find vent against him. But the meek and unresisting child of God is in his hands. And therefore he slays him; "because his own works were evil, and his brother's righteous."

Well did our Lord say of the Jews who sought to kill him: "Ye are of your father the devil; and the lusts of your father ye will do. He was a murderer from the beginning." And he was John 8:44). And you are of him; for it is "because I tell you the truth that ye believe me not" ( John 8:45); and it is that which provokes you to "seek to kill me" ( John 8:40).

Here then are two instances of the children of God being manifested, and the children of the devil: Abel, and his brother Cain who slew him; Jesus, and the Jews who sought to kill him. It is the first that John cites; but the second throws light upon it. For Abel is to Cain instead of Jesus; and Cain is to Abel what he would have been to Jesus. The antagonism is clearly and sharply defined. On the one side there is love, brotherly love; love to one who slays his lover, and love to him as still a brother; which is indeed "doing righteousness as God is righteous," and therefore betokens a divine birth. On the other side there is hatred, deadly hatred; hatred of the righteous for his righteousness; which is "a work of the devil," and savours accordingly of a devilish parentage.

For what brings out the antagonism in both cases is truth or righteousness; truth, as the Lord puts it ( 1 John 3:13-16

THERE is an emphatic meaning in the address ( 1 John 3:13), "my brethren." It prepares the way for the use of the first person "we" ( 1 John 3:14). You are of the company of the brethren, as I am. I address you as such, when I exhort you "not to marvel if the world hate you." For why should you not marvel at this? Why should you not count it strange or take it amiss.

For this, among other reasons: because we know,—you and I, as brethren, know,—that to love as brethren is a grace belonging entirely to the new life of which we are partakers. It is the very mark of our possessing that life. Why then should we marvel if the dead are incapable of it? It is the world's nature to hate the godly; it was our nature once; and if it is not so now, it is because we have undergone a great change; "we know that we have passed from death unto life because we love the brethren." It must be so. The absence of this brotherly love Matthew 5:21-24). Not to love is to hate; and to hate is to murder. If, therefore, you would be safe from the risk of being a murderer, see that you are not a hater. And if you would not be in danger of being a hater, see that you are a lover.

It is a solemn lesson that is thus taught; and it would seem to be meant for you who are apt to marvel if the world hate you, as well as for the world that hates you. In that application, it may suggest some important practical thoughts.

1. When Abel first caught a glimpse of Cain's state of mind towards him, he might feel as one who painfully dreamed. He must have been slow to take it in. They had grown up together in the same home; worked and played together; prayed together at the same mother's knee; listened together to the same father's teaching; done one another many offices of kindness; enjoyed much pleasant intercourse in house and field. While that strange conversation about God and his worship goes on, Abel is startled as he sees Cain's dark frown betokening growing wrath. Hate gleams more and more from those kindling eyes. Is it fear that pales the meek martyr's face, or is it anger that agitates his frame, as that hoarse voice threatens and that cruel arm is raised? Not so. It is horrible surprise at first; and then deep concern, tender pity, bitter grief. That Cain has ceased to love him as a brother,—that is what chiefly wounds him; wounds him more keenly than the stroke that fells him to the ground. Has he lost, can he not win back, a brother's love? Is there such hatred, so murderous, in one who is still so dear to him? Will he rather slay me than taste and see how good our God is who has provided for us both the same sin-offering of the lamb? It is a bitter sorrow. But it is not the bitterness of a sense of his own wrong; it is the bitterness of the melancholy insight he has got into his poor brother's dark and miserable heart.

Ah! think;—when you come in contact with some one to whom you would fain commend the Saviour and the sacrifice you have yourself found so precious,—an old familiar friend perhaps with whom your intercourse has been wont to be frequent and sweet,—a humble neighbour who has often been glad to see you under his lowly roof, to accept your alms in his poverty or your kindly sympathy in his distress; and when you begin to discover that, as a child of God, you are not so welcome now as you were when like himself you were a child of the world; when he treats you coldly or rudely, and makes it plain that he would fain in any way get rid of you;—think rather of his case than of your own. It may be hard for you to bear with his irritability and incivility; and you may be provoked, if not to retaliate, yet to let him alone and make your escape. But consider him; and have pity upon him. This malignant spirit of dislike to righteousness, and to him whose works are righteous, is far worse for him to cherish than for you to suffer. Leave him not. Rather stay by him and plead with him; even though his hatred rise to murder.

2. For you need, for yourselves, and with special reference to the world's hatred of you, to be ever on your guard, lest somewhat of the old dark spirit should creep in again into your own hearts. And remember it may insinuate itself very insidiously and stealthily.

Consider once more the stages or steps: not loving; hating; murdering. Ah! how easily may the first of these begin: not loving. It is a simple negation; no taking of any positive step; but only, as it were, not taking any step at all; or not this or that particular step; giving up; letting alone; using less energy of prayer and pains; feeling less interest.

Who is it that you have ceased, or are ceasing, to love with a true brotherly love like Christ's? Is it one still unconverted and unsaved? You have been dealing with him, as you think, faithfully and affectionately; pleading with him for Christ, and with Christ for him. You have had much patience, and have persevered long. Nor has it been mere taskwork with you; it has been a work of love. You have felt a real concern for his soul, a real longing for his salvation. But somehow the case is not very hopeful; it was not very hopeful at first, and it is becoming less 1 John 3:16).

It is a high ideal of this love to men as brethren that is set before us. It is sympathy with God in his love to us; and in that love as measured by his laying down his life for us. Whom does he thus love? Us: and all such as we are; or as we were, when his love reached us. "Scarcely for a righteous man will one die: yet peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die. But God commendeth his love towards us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." "When we were without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly." For us sinners, for us without strength, for us ungodly, he laid down his life. And it was a brotherly love to us that moved him to do so. It was as our brother that he sacrificed himself for us. It is that we may be his brethren that he would have us to perceive his love in sacrificing himself for us, and to believe it.

Oh! to be enabled to enter more and more into this brotherly love of Jesus; to apprehend its nature; to imbibe its spirit! Truly it is the opposite of the hatred of a brother which marks one abiding in death. That hatred prompts to take away another's life; this love to lay down one's own. "Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer;" but here is one so loving his brother, that to save him alive he sacrifices himself. Cain was bent on slaying his brother: Abel, was anxious, at the risk of death, to win Cain. We, in our hatred, because he was righteous and we were evil, slew a greater than Abel. He loved us with more than Abel's love when "he laid down his life for us."

We know that we have passed from death unto life, when we love our fellow-men with a brotherly love like his; when we are so bent on saving and blessing them, that we are willing not only to give our whole lives for their good, but to suffer all loss, even death itself, at their hands. Even when they are still our enemies, because the enemies of our Lord; even while they hate us, and persecute us, and say all manner of evil against us; how does it become us still to love them as brethren, with a love that would seek them as brethren, and welcome them as brethren, and live and die for them as brethren! Can they be more hostile or injurious to us, than we were to Christ when he loved us and laid down his life for us? Have they wearied us as we have wearied him? or provoked us as we have provoked him? or pierced us as we have pierced him? How shall we not continue to care for them and plead with them, as Christ continued to care for us and plead with us,—oh! how long, how patiently, how tenderly,—if by any means he might bring us to receive him as laying down his life for us! And when, by his Spirit, they are moved and melted, and on the footing of that great propitiation reconciled to God and to us; how shall we set bounds to the warmth and cordiality of our embrace of them as now our brethren indeed! Can we grudge any service or sacrifice to show our love, even should it be the laying down of our lives for them, as he laid down his life for us?

This is our security against the evil spirit of Cain coming in again to trouble us. It is to make full proof of the better spirit of Abel, or of him in whom Abel, like us, believed, even Jesus, who so loved us, even when dead in sins, that he gave himself for us, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God; and who so loveth us, as his brethren, for whom he laid down his life, that he would have us to be sharers as his brethren with him in all the love with which the Father loveth him and all the glory which the Father giveth him.

XXVI. Righteousness or Truth in Brotherly Love—Essential to the Answer of a Good Conscience in Ourselves and Before God

"But whoso hath this world's good, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him? My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth. And hereby we know that we are of the truth, and shall assure our hearts before him. For if our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all things. Beloved, if our heart condemn us not, then have we confidence toward God."— 1 John 3:17-21

THE lesson here is sincerity. It is with special reference to the grace or affection of brotherly love, that this lesson is in the first instance enforced; and the manner in which the subject is introduced is noticeable.

The highest possible model or ideal has been presented for imitation: "Hereby perceive we the love of God, because he laid down his life for us: and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren." Then immediately, by way of contrast, the testing case put is made to turn on one of the simplest and commonest instances of the exercise of human pity: "But whoso hath this world's good, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him?" It looks almost like irony or sarcasm. Your love to the brethren, to men as brethren, should reach to your laying down your lives for them. Yes! And it would, if that were necessary, or might do them good. So you say, and think. But what if, having this world's good, and seeing your brother have need, you shut up your bowels of compassion from him? How then dwelleth the love of God in you? Is that loving as God loves?

Beware of self-deception in this matter. It is easy to imagine what you would do to win or help a brother; and yeti may please yourselves by carrying the imagination to any length you choose. If a great act of self-sacrifice would avail, you would not shrink from it. But what if you grudge some far readier and easier service, a gift to the needy out of your abundance, or a visit of sympathy to the widow out of your leisure, or a word in season to the weary out of the fullness of your own happier experience, or a helping hand to snatch a perishing soul from the pit and set him on the rock on which the Lord has set you? You will lay down your life for one who Psalm 32:3-4). He got enlargement and assurance only when he tried the more excellent way of full and frank confession, apprehending full and free forgiveness ( Psalm 32:5-7). Then his heart did not condemn him, and he had confidence towards God; being of the truth, he assured his heart before God.

It must be noticed, however, that the ground of this assurance or confidence is not the consciousness of integrity, thus declared to be indispensable, but that gracious dealing on the part of God for which it makes way. The negative form of John's language is not without its meaning here—"if our heart condemn us not, then have we confidence toward God." It describes simply the removal of an obstacle; a hindrance or obstruction taken out of the way. A haze or mist of earth is dispelled, that the sun from heaven may give light and warmth. A work of the devil is undone, that the work of God may be wrought. For this inward misgiving, this secret consciousness of insincerity, "our heart condemning us," is of that wicked one. It comes of his lie still heeded, and, as it were, half believed. We must let it go, that the truth may make us free.

The plain question then 1 John 3:22-23

THIS is one of the strongest assertions that we have in Scripture of the efficacy of good works, as bearing on our relation to God. It has no reference, however, to the question of our acceptance or justification; it raises an ulterior question. It manifestly connects a certain privilege with a certain practice, in the case of true Christians, considered as already in a state of grace. And it connects them, so as to make the privilege dependent upon the practice.

The privilege 1 John 3:21), and partly an additional thought. The "confidence which we have toward God" is such as emboldens us to ask what we will. And we ask confidently, because we know that God will not refuse us anything that we ask.

But it is the fact itself here asserted, and not our sense or apprehension of it, that chiefly claims attention. It is certainly a strong assertion, "Whatsoever we ask we receive of him." And it is altogether unqualified; absolute and unrestricted. We are on such terms with God that he will deny us nothing;—that is the plain unequivocal meaning of what John says. And it is not to be modified or explained away by any supposed exceptions or reservations. It must be taken in all its breadth as literally true, in connection with the practice on which it is dependent.

That practice is obedience, "we keep his commandments;"—or the performance of good works, "we do those things which are pleasing in his sight." For there are not two separate acts or exercises here spoken of; but only one. "Doing things pleasing in God's sight" is not something over and above "keeping his commandments," or something different from it. That cannot be. For it is not merely doing things, any things, that may be pleasing in his sight; but doing "those things;" which must mean doing the things which he has commanded, and none other.

John 8:29). That was the hold which he had on the Father. It 1 John 3:13). And we know also the source of that better spirit of brotherly love with which it is to be met ( 1 John 3:14-16). Only let there be, on our part, open, guileless, unreserved sincerity ( 1 John 3:17-21). Let our heart, as in the sight of God, acquit us of all secret dishonesty. Let there be truth in the inner man; the truth in love. Then we have the confidence of little children toward God. And, as little children, we join with John 11:41-42). It was beside the grave of Lazarus. What it was that he had been asking, is not said. So far as appears, the prayer for the answer to which he gives thanks consisted not of articulate words but of tears and groans. At all events he was heard; what he asked, whatever it was, he received of the Father. And while openly acknowledging this, for the sake of the bystanders, he is careful to explain that it is no exceptional case. "Thou hearest me always;" "whatsoever I ask, I receive of thee always;" thou never refusest me anything. Why Jesus was so anxious, in this instance, publicly to connect the miracle he was intending to do with the Father's hearing his secret prayer, it is perhaps useless to conjecture. It was a signal display of his power to overcome the corruption of the grave that he was about to give; that power which be is to put forth on a wider scale when he comes again. It was fitting, one might say, that in giving it he should, with more than ordinary explicitness and solemnity, carry the Father along with him. But his studied generalisation of his thanksgiving is remarkable. "I knew that thou hearest me always." Never doth the Father leave me alone; for I do always those things that please him; and he heareth me always; I have his ear always; and whatsoever I ask I receive of him.

The Lord's manner of asking varies much. He weeps. He groans in the Spirit. He offers up prayers and supplications, with strong crying and tears. He asks, sometimes, as it might seem, almost incoherently ( John 12:27). Once, at least, he asks conditionally, "Father, if it be possible." But, be his manner of asking what it may, always the Father heareth him; always, whatsoever he asks, he receives of him.

"Thou hearest me always!" It is a blessed assurance. And the blessedness of it really lies, not so much in the good he gets from the Father's hearing him, as in the Father's hearing him itself; not so much in what he receives, as in his receiving it from the Father. For this is the charm, the joy, the consolation, of that access to the Father and that influence with the Father which you now have in common with the Son. It is not that you may enrich and gratify yourselves with what you win by asking from him. But it is literally that whatever you ask you receive of him, as his gift; the proof that he is ever with you and heareth you always. Do you not lay the stress on the "him"? Whatsoever you ask you receive of him." You might have to do with one as to whom your only consideration would be, how much you could get out of him or extract from him. There is a common proverb about quartering upon an enemy. And there is no little satisfaction in the idea that you have a powerful and wealthy patron at your command, on whose resources you may draw at pleasure. But it is not thus that you stand with God. In these other instances, the chief, if not the whole value of any influence you have, is merely the amount of actual benefit obtained. The asker cares little or nothing for the motive which leads the giver to give, or far the disposition towards himself that the gift implies and indicates. It is all the same to him, whether it be extorted by menace; or wrung reluctantly by importunity; or made matter of cold and cautious stipulation. So as only he gets, any how, and on any terms, a certain amount or quantity of what he wants, he is content. That is not the mind of Christ, when he says, "The Father is with me" "thou hearest me always." The support which this thought gives to him is not that it warrants him in demanding any personal benefit he may choose to specify, that would be pleasing to flesh and blood. No. It is its imparting to his inmost consciousness the sense of his being such a Son to the Father, so clear in the Father's sight, that the Father can refuse him nothing. He may ask what he will; and he is sure to receive it of the Father.

Ah! how then shall I ask anything at all? If such is my position, in and with Christ, how shall I have the heart or the hardihood to ask anything at all of the Father, except only that he may deal with me according to his good pleasure? If I am really on such a footing with the Father that "he heareth me always," and "whatsoever I ask I receive of him;" if I have such influence with him; if, as his dear child, pleasing him, and doing what pleases him, I can so prevail with him that he can refuse me nothing; what can I say? What can I do? I can but cast myself into his arms and cry, Thou knowest better than I, O my Father! Father, thy will be done!

Yes. And under that blessed committal of all to him, what freedom may I not use? When told that I and my doings are so pleasing to him that I may ask what I will and it shall be done; the very abundance of the grace silences me. It is enough for me, Father, that such is my acceptance in thy sight. But can I wield the sceptre? Can I use so tremendous a power as this, that whatever I ask thee to do thou doest? Nay. I am thy servant. Undertake thou for me. Enough for me to be assured that I so find grace and favour in thy sight that I have but to ask, thee to do anything and it is done. Enough! Nay, more than enough! I can ask nothing on these terms, I must leave all to thee. But leaving all to thee, I pour out all the more freely my whole soul to thee, I spread out my whole case to thee. I speak to thee of all that is upon my mind and heart. I tell thee all my desire. My groaning is not hid from thee.

Let us look in closing at the two specimen commandments, if one may so call them, or the two parts of the one specimen commandment, which John expressly mentions in this connection.

1. "That we should believe on the name of his Son Jesus Christ." The keeping of this commandment is the doing of what is pleasing in the Father's sight. It is so in proportion to the love with which he loveth the 1 John 3:24; 1 John 4:1

THIS is another fruit of the keeping of God's commandments; or another view of the blessedness of doing so. It ensures our abiding in God, and his abiding in us; and that in a manner that may be ascertained and verified. Two practical questions are thus virtually put and answered. I. How may we abide in God? So abide in him as to have him abiding in us? By keeping his commandments. How may we know that he abides in us? By the Spirit which he giveth us,—and giveth us in a way that admits of the gift being verified by trial.

I. In the keeping of God's commandments there is this great reward, that he that doeth so "dwelleth in God, and God in him." Negatively, it has been already shown that there can be no such mutual indwelling if there is on our part disobedience to God's commandments. Sin, as "the transgression of the law," is incompatible with such high and holy communion ( 1 John 3:6). It is the positive form of the statement that is now before us. Obedience, or the keeping of God's commandments, actively promotes this communion. It is more than the condition of it; it is of its very essence. If this mutual indwelling is not to be mere absorption, which some dreamers in John's day held it to be—if it is not to be the swallowing up of our conscious individual personality in the infinite mind or intelligence of God—if it is to conserve the distinct relationship of God to Galatians 5:22-23).

"Against such there is no law." That is an important addition or explanation here. There is nothing in the gift of the Spirit, or in the fruit of the Spirit as given, that is contrary to law; nothing, therefore, that can again bring us under the risks and liabilities of law. On the contrary, the Spirit being given, with such fruit, is precisely what secures that kind of keeping of the commandments on our part, by which we "dwell in him." For, I must repeat, it is as the Spirit of adoption that he is given; "God sendeth forth the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, Abba, Father."

Thus the two elements and conditions, the two means and evidences, of this mutual indwelling of us in God and of God in us meet together. We dwell in God by keeping his commandments; he dwells in us by giving us his Spirit. But our keeping his commandments and his giving us his Spirit are really one; one and the same fact viewed on opposite sides. It is not any sort of keeping his commandments on our part that will ensure or attest our dwelling in him. It is not any way of giving us his Spirit on his part that will ensure or attest his dwelling in us. Our keeping his commandments in the spirit of bondage; in a legal, self-righteous, formal, and servile frame of mind; is not our dwelling in God. God's enabling us, by the power of his Spirit, to work miracles, would not be his dwelling in us. Our dwelling in him is our keeping his commandments, as his Son did, on the same filial footing and with the same filial heart. His dwelling in us is his "sending forth the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, Abba, Father."

III. From all this it follows that the counsel or warning, "Believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they be of God" ( 1 John 4:1), is as needful for us as it was for those to whom John wrote. We may think that it is the Spirit of God whom we are receiving into our hearts and cherishing there, when it may really be another spirit altogether: one of the many spirits inspiring the "many false prophets that are gone out into the world." Therefore we must "try the spirits."

Do you ask how, or by what test?—"Hereby know ye the Spirit of God: Every spirit that confesseth that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is of God: and every spirit that confesseth not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is not of God."

The full meaning of this pregnant and searching test will be afterwards considered. Meanwhile, as bearing on the subject now in hand, it admits of at least one obvious application.

The Spirit that is of God will ever honour Christ; and especially Christ come in the flesh; which means not only Christ incarnate, but also and emphatically Christ crucified. The person and work of Christ, as the outward object of our faith, the ground of our confidence before God outside of us and apart from us, the true Spirit of God will ever magnify and glorify. He will not consent to substitute for that any inward experience, however heavenly, as superseding it or setting it aside. That is what false prophets, moved by an anti-Christian spirit, are apt to do. It was a very marked characteristic of their teaching in John's own day. An inward light, an inward sense, something, or much of a Christ in them; an inward 1 John 3:24 to 1 John 4:4

THE appeal in the beginning of the fourth chapter springs out of the closing statement in the third: "Hereby we know that God abideth in us, by the Spirit which he hath given us." This evidently throws us back into ourselves; into some consciousness on our part of his having given us the Spirit. It is an inward or subjective test. Have we in us the Spirit as given to us by God! If 1 John 2:21-25). I am inclined to think that we have now to deal with it more subjectively; as a matter of inward experience rather than of doctrinal statement. For the starting-point is our "knowing that God abideth in us, by the Spirit which he hath given us." It is the fact of the Spirit confessing in us, and not merely to us, that we have to ascertain and verify; and therefore the test must apply inwardly;—Have we in us "the Spirit that confesseth that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh?" As it stands here, therefore, I think we are called to deal with that formula rather experimentally than dogmatically; and so to make it all the more available for the searching of our hearts.

Taking that view, I shall consider, in the first place, what the inward confession of the Spirit in us that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh may be held to imply; and then, secondly, how our realising this in our experience secures our personal and practical victory over all anti-Christian spirits or prophets who deny that great and blessed fact.

I. It properly belongs to the Spirit to "confess that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh." He had much to do with the flesh in which Jesus Christ came. He prepared for him a body in the Virgin's womb, so as to secure that he came into the world pure and sinless. And all throughout his sojourn on earth the Spirit ministered to him as "Jesus Christ come in the flesh;" he could not minister to him otherwise. It is the flesh, or humanity, of Jesus Christ that brings him within the range of the Spirit's gracious care. It was his human experience that the Spirit animated and sustained; and it is with his human experience also that the Spirit deals when he "takes of what is Christ's and shows it unto us." His object is to make us one with "Jesus Christ as come in the flesh." That practically is his confession to us and in us. Let us see what it implies.

1. He identifies us with Jesus Christ in his humiliation. There is no real humiliation on the part of the Son if his coming in the flesh is denied. He might be conceived of as coming gloriously, graciously, condescendingly, in his own original and eternal nature alone; taking the mere semblance of a body, or a real body now and then, as the Gnostic dreamers taught. But there would have been no humbling of himself in that, and no room for any concurrent humbling testimony or work of the Spirit in us. It is Jesus Christ as come in the flesh, "made of a woman, made under the law," that the Spirit owns and seals. And he confesses or witnesses this in us by making us one, and keeping us one, with our Lord in that character, as "Jesus Christ come in the flesh." In our divine regeneration he brings us to be,—what, through his interposition, Jesus Christ in his miraculous human generation became,—servants under the yoke; subject to the authority and commandment of God; willingly subject; our nature being renewed into the likeness of his.

2. The Spirit identifies us with Jesus Christ, not only in his humiliation but in its conditions and liabilities. For "to confess Jesus Christ come in the flesh," is not merely to admit the fact of his incarnation, but to admit it with whatever consequences necessarily, in terms of law, flow from it. His coming in the flesh is not simply an incident or .event in history; it has a special meaning in the moral government of God. It brought him, not merely into the position of one made under the law, but into the position, under the law, of those whose place he took.

The old deniers of his coming in the flesh saw this; and it was their chief objection to the doctrine. They might have allowed that the mysterious efflux or emanation of Deity that they seemed to own as a sort of Saviour did somehow identify himself with us, by making common cause with us, and even temporarily assuming our nature with a view to purge and elevate it. But they perceived that the literal incarnation of the Son of God, truly and fairly admitted, carried in its train the vicarious substitution and atonement. Modern teachers in the same line think that they may hold the first without the last. But I am mistaken if any incarnation they may thus hold does not slip insensibly, in their handling of it, into some modification, suited to modern turns of thought, of the old vague notion of a certain divinity being in every man; and in some one man perhaps pre-eminently as the type and model of perfect manhood. That, however, is not to "confess Jesus Christ come in the flesh;" for his coming in the flesh, accepted as a reality, implies his really putting himself alongside of those in whose flesh he comes, and serving himself heir to all the ills to which their flesh is heir.

Let us look, then, at "Jesus Christ coming in the flesh," the Son of God taking our nature into oneness with himself. He takes it pure and sinless, so far as he is personally concerned; but he takes it with all the liabilities which our sin has entailed upon it, And the Spirit, confessing in us that he is come in the flesh, makes us one with him in this view of his coming; our guilt and condemnation being now his, and his taking our guilt and bearing our condemnation being ours. His coming in the flesh is his consenting to be crucified for us; the Spirit in us confessing him as come in the flesh makes us willing to be crucified with him. And 1 John 4:4). The intimation ( 1 John 4:3) that the spirit of anti-Christ is already, even now, in the world, is fitted to make this assurance very welcome. For war is proclaimed; war that is to last as long as the world lasts. It is the old war, proclaimed long ago, between the serpent's seed and the woman's. But it has taken a new form; and that its final one. From the first manifestation of it,—from the day when Cain slew his brother—it might be seen to turn upon the question of the worship of God by atoning sacrifice. Is there, or is there not, to be the shedding of blood for the remission of sins? That, more or less clearly, with variations suited to the varied aspect of the church and the world, has ever since continued to be in substance the point at issue. Now that Christ has come in the flesh, it is so more than ever. "Jesus Christ come in the flesh" is its ultimate expression and embodiment. In the contest about this high theme, "you, little children, have overcome them." The victory is already yours: for "you are of God."

Two questions here occur;—1. What is the nature of the victory? 2. How is it connected with your being of God?

1. The victory is a real victory got over the false prophets or teachers, who are not of God, whom the spirit of anti-Christ inspires. And it is a victory over them personally; not over their doctrines and principles merely; but over themselves: "Ye have overcome them." True, it 1 John 4:4); which again is intimately connected with your" confessing that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh" ( 1 John 4:2). Your being of God is the intermediate link between your confessing that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh ( 1 John 4:2), and your having overcome them who reject that truth ( 1 John 4:4).

"Ye are of God" ( 1 John 4:4). This, let it be observed, is what has previously been asserted of the Spirit that "confesseth that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh." He "is of God" ( 1 John 4:3). And it is denied concerning any spirit refusing to confess that. Such a spirit "is not of God."

Now what, as applied to the Holy Spirit, does this mean? How,—in what sense and to what effect,—is the Spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh said to be "of God"?

He is of God essentially, being himself God; proceeding from the Father and the Son; one with them in the undivided essence of the Godhead. He is of God, if I may so say, officially; condescending in infinite love, to be the gift of the Father and the Son to guilty and sinful men. But here more particularly, he is of God as confessing, or in virtue of his confessing, that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh. He is on the side of God, or in the interest of God; he consults and acts for God; he takes God's part and is true to God. It is as being thus of God that the Spirit confesses that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh. He contemplates, if I may so say, that great fact with all its issues from the divine point of view; in its bearing on the divine character and nature, the divine government and law. He is "of God" in it; in that fact and in all its issues.

Do I take too great a liberty in speaking thus of the Holy Spirit? I scarcely think so when I call to mind how this phrase describes Christ's own position in the world with reference to the Father. He was "of God;" he was so in a very emphatic and significant sense; not only as regards his origin and mission; his coming from God and being authorised by God; but also, and specially, as regards his end and aim all through his humiliation, obedience, and sacrifice. He was "of God;" on the side and in the interest of God. It was the zeal of God's house that ate him up. It was the doing of God's will, and the finishing of God's work, that was his meat. It was the glorifying of his Father, and the finishing of the work which his Father gave him to do, that ministered to his satisfaction in his last farewell prayer. Of him pre-eminently it might be said: "He is of God." And in his being thus "of God," as to the whole mind and meaning of the phrase, the Holy Spirit is with him and in him. Jesus Christ come in the flesh is, in this sense emphatically, confessed by the Spirit. The Spirit is with him, and in him, as the Spirit that is of God; and as being to him the Spirit that is of God. He and the Spirit are at one in being both "of God." And you, in the Son and by the Spirit are "of God;" as truly of God as is the Spirit, or as the Son was when God "gave not the Spirit by measure to him."

The essential characteristic of the spirit of anti-Christ is that it is, in the sense now explained, "not of God." It does not look at the Saviour and the salvation as on the side of God; rather it takes an opposite view, and subjects God to man. It subordinates everything to human interests and human claims; looks at everything from a human and mundane point of view; measures everything by a human standard; submits everything to human opinion; in a word, conceives and judges of God after the manner of man. This, indeed, may be said to be the distinctive feature of all false religions, as well as of all corruptions of the true religion. They exalt man. They consider what man requires, what he would like, what is due to him. Even when they take the form of the most abject and degrading superstition, that is still their spirit. They aim at getting God, by whatever means of persuasion and prostration, to do the bidding of man. For it is the essence of our corrupt human nature, of which these corrupt worships are the expression, to care and consult for self, and not for God. This is the essence of the spirit of anti-Christ; the spirit that breathes and moves in the false notions that have gained currency in the church respecting "Jesus Christ come in the flesh." Their advocates give man the first place in their scheme. Their real objection lies against those views of gospel truth which assert the absolute sovereignty of God, and put forward pre-eminently what he is entitled to demand,—what, with a due regard to his own character, government, and law, he cannot but demand. They dislike such representations as bring in the element of God's holy name and righteous authority, and lay much stress upon that element, as one of primary consideration in the plan of saving mercy. Hence they naturally shrink from owning explicitly Jesus Christ as come in the flesh to make atonement by satisfying divine justice. They prefer some loose and vague way of putting the fact of his interposition, and the manner of it. Admitting in a sense its necessity, they are unwilling to define very precisely, either the nature of the necessity, or the way in which it is met. He came in the flesh, to redeem the flesh, to sanctify, elevate, and purify it. He came in the flesh, to be one with us, and to make us, in the flesh, one with him. So they speak and think of his coming in the flesh. Any higher aim, any prior and paramount design involved in this great fact, viewed in its relation to the nature and supremacy of God, his holiness and justice, as lawgiver and Judges , they are slow to acknowledge. Hence their gospel is apt to be partial and one-sided; looking rather like an accommodation of heaven and heaven's rights to earth and earth's wishes and ways, than that perfect reconciliation and perfect assimilation of earth to heaven for which we hold it to have made provision;—our heavenly Father's name being hallowed, his kingdom coming, his will being done, in earth as it is in heaven. Their system is not "of God" as the primary object of consideration; for they themselves are not out and out, in this sense, "of God."

But "ye are of God, little children," in this matter; in the view that you take, and the conception that you form of Jesus Christ come in the flesh; of the end of his coming, and the manner in which that end is attained. You look at that great fact, first and chiefly in its relation to God, and as on the side of God. It is from God and for God that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh. So he always taught; and so you firmly believe. He placed God always first; the glory of God, the sovereignty of God, the will of God always took precedency. Man's concerns and interests were subordinate to that. Nothing is more conspicuous in "Jesus Christ come in the flesh," throughout his whole ministry, in all his life and in his death, than this loyalty to God his Father, prevailing even over his amazing tenderness and pity for men. He was truly of God, even when his being so might tell against men; tell to their destruction rather than their salvation. He does not shrink from the darkest issues which, in that view, his coming in the flesh carries in its bosom. He did not shrink from them when realised in his own person, and in his personal experience, as the suffering substitute of the guilty. He does not shrink from them as they are to be realised in the persons, and in the personal experience, of those who "will not come unto him that they may have life."

If you are "of God," you are of his mind. You approve of this principle; you recognise the propriety of what is due to God being first attended to and provided for, in preference even to what may be needed by man. What God, being such as he is, must require, since "he cannot deny himself," that is the first question; then, and in subordination to that, what can be done for men. It is a great matter for you to view the whole plan of salvation, as being yourselves, in this sense, "of God." It is your doing so that secures your having overcome all spirits of anti-Christ. If thus "you are of God," you are already raised to a higher platform than they can occupy, so as to have a loftier and wider range of vision. Your profound reverence for the majesty of God; your loyal, loving recognition of his holy and righteous sovereignty; your deep, admiring esteem of his government and law; your calm conviction that the Lord reigneth; your intense desire that the Lord should reign; your determination, may I say, that the Lord shall reign; lifts you out of the region of human questionings and all doubtful disputations. It is your very humility that lifts you up. You sit at the feet of Jesus Christ come in the flesh. You stand beside his cross. You do not now stumble at the mystery of its bloody expiation; or quarrel with the great propitiation-sacrifice through unbelief of its necessity. The ideas of justice needing to be satisfied; punishment inevitably to be inflicted; one willing to bear it in your stead being found; that one being "Jesus Christ come in the flesh;" do not now offend you. Nay, being "of God," on his side and in his interest in the whole of this great transaction, you can meekly, in faith, commit to him and leave in his hands even the most terrible of those ultimate and eternal consequences, involving the aggravated guilt and final ruin of many, that you cannot but see to be inseparably mixed up with the confession that "Jesus Christ is come in the flesh."