1 JOHN
PART FIRST.
THE FIRST CONDITION OF THE DIVINE FELLOWSHIP - LIGHT (i. 5 ; ii. 17).
III. THE GROUND OR REASON OF THIS FIRST CONDITION ;
LIGHT BEING AT ONCE THE NATURE AND THE DWELLING-PLACE OF GOD.
"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. If we say that we have fellowship 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."
1 JOHN i. 5-7.

HAVING explained the general aim of his book - to make his readers, as disciples, partakers of the same fellowship which he and his fellow-apostles had with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ, and of the fulness of joy in the Lord which that implies - the writer proceeds to open up the nature and character of this fellowship of joy. He begins by laying down the first and primary condition of it, the fundamentally necessary qualification for its possession - that without which it cannot be. It is light; the fellowship must be a fellowship in light. He enlarges on that requirement, and sets it out in various points of view. First, he shows how it rests, not on any merely arbitrary or sovereign divine appointment, but on a holy necessity of the divine nature, admitting of no compromise or evasion (i. 5-7). Thereafter, with a tenderness and faithfulness all his own, he brings the man of simple, guileless spirit into the light, through the door of honest confession and righteous forgiveness (i. 8-11). And then, leading him on in the line of intelligent and loving obedience, under the unction and illumination of the Holy Ghost - making him one with the Holy Anointed One, and in him one with all the holy brethren (ii. 3-14); - as well as also in the line of a clear and sharp discrimination between the passing darkness and its passing world on the one hand, and the abiding of the light and of its godliness on the other (ii. 15-17) - he lands the man of guileless spirit in that indwelling in the Son and in the Father which ensures first, steadfastness amid all antichristian defections and apostasies; secondly, the receiving of the promise of eternal life, and thirdly, full confidence in the expectation of the Lord's coming (ii. 18-28).

Such I take to be the topic of this first part of the Epistle; and such the successive aspects in which it is presented.
In the verses now before us (i. 5-7), John gives the ground or reason of his primary and fundamental condition - that the fellowship must be a fellowship in light; and shows how it rests, not on any merely arbitrary or sovereign ordinance of God, but on his very nature and essential perfection. Accordingly, in that view, we have first a solemn message, next a faithful warning, and lastly a gracious assurance. These are the three steps in this high argument; a solemn message in the fifth verse; a faithful warning in the sixth; and a gracious assurance in the seventh.

I. The form of the announcement in the fifth verse is very peculiar; "This, then, is the message which we have heard of him, and declare unto you." It is not a discovery which we make concerning God - an inference or deduction which we draw for ourselves from observation of his works and ways, and which we publish in that character, and with that weight of influence, to our fellow-men. It is an authentic and authoritative communication to us, from himself. And it is to be accepted as such. It is a message, which John and his fellow-apostles have heard of him, expressly in order that they may declare it, as a message, to us. It is substantially Jehovah himself telling us, through the apostles, about himself, what in his own person he told the church of old about himself when he said, "I am holy." For the light is holiness; I am holy" "God is light."
The message is twofold. First, positively, "God is light;" next, negatively, "In Him is no darkness at all."

1. Positively, "God is light." This is a metaphor - a figure of speech. And in that view, it might suggest a world of varied analogies between the nature of God and the nature of the material element of light. Light is diffusive, penetrating, searching; spreading itself over all space, and entering into every hole and corner. It is quickening and enlivening; a minister of healthy vigour and growth to all living creatures, plants and animals alike, including man himself. It is pleasant also ; a source of relief and gladness to those who bask in its bright and joyous rays.

But there are two of its properties that may be singled out as specially relevant to this great comparison.In the first place, light is clear, transparent, translucent ; patent and open, always and everywhere, as far as its free influence extends. The entrance of light, which itself is real, spreads reality all around. Clouds and shadows are unreal; they breed and foster unrealities. Light is the naked truth. Its very invisibility is, in this view, its power. It is not seen because it is so pure.

For, secondly, a certain character of inviolability belongs to it, in respect of which, while it comes in contact with all things, it is itself affected by nothing. It kisses carrion ; it embraces foul pollution ; it enters into the innermost recesses of the rottenness in which worms uncleanly revel. It is the same clear element of light still; taking no soil; contracting no stain; - its brightness not dimmed, nor its viewless beauty marred. It endureth for ever, clean and clear.

Now, when it is said, "God is light;" when he says it of himself; when he makes it his own personal and special message to us, which his apostles and ministers are to be always receiving of him and declaring to us - the one heavenly telegram, or express telegraphic despatch, which they are to be reading to us and we are to be reading to our neighbours, that we may have fellowship, all of us together, with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ - let not our imaginations wander in a wilderness of fanciful resemblances. Let these two thoughts be fixed in our minds; first, the thought of perfect openness ; and secondly, the thought of perfect inviolability. Let these be our thoughts of God, and of his essential character, as being, and declaring himself to be, " light." Thus " God is light."

2. Negatively "In him is no darkness at all" I connect this part of the statement with that saying of John in his gospel; "The light shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehendeth it not" (i. 5). In the light itself, in him who is the light - even when shining in darkness, the darkness that comprehendeth it not - there is still no darkness at all.

It must be to some very intimate actual contact of the light - of Him who is the light - with darkness ; some close encounter and conflict between them, that this second clause of the message refers. Otherwise it is but a repetition of the first; serving only to weaken its force.
"The light shineth in darkness."He who is the light comes, in the person of his Son, to seek and to save us, who are in darkness ; who, as to our character, and state, and prospects, are darkness itself. For there is not now in us and around us the element of clearness, brightness, openness, in which we were created at first. Sin has entered; and with sin, shame. There can be pure and simple nakedness no longer. The clear, open sunshine of the presence and countenance of him who is light is no longer tolerable. The covering of fig-leaves, and the hiding-place of the trees of the garden, are preferred. Light henceforth is offensive. The unquiet and unclean soul is like that old chaos, "without form and void;" and "darkness is upon the face of the deep." With that darkness, the darkness of death, he who is light, the light of life, is brought into fellowship. And the fellowship is no mere form or name ; it is real, actual, personal. The darkness is laid hold of by the light. He who is light enters into the darkness; sounding its utmost depths; searching its inmost recesses. Where guilty fear crouches; where foul corruption festers; he penetrates. He even makes the darkness his own. He takes it upon himself. Its power, "the power of this darkness" is upon him; its power to wrap the sin-laden spirit in a horror of thickest night - in the gloom of hell. Yes! For our sakes, in our stead, in our nature, he who is light is identified with our darkness.

And yet "in him is no darkness at all." In the very heat and crisis of this death-struggle, there is no surrender of the light to the darkness; no concession, no compromise; no making of terms; no allowance of some partial shading of the light on which the darkness presses so terribly. No! "He is light, and in him is no darkness at all." All still is clear, open, transparent, between the Son and the Father. Even when the Father hides his face, and "his sword awakes against the man that is his fellow," and the Son cries as one forsaken; even in that dark hour there is no evasion of heaven's light; no trafficking with the darkness of earth or hell. There is no hiding then ; no shrinking; no feeling as if truth might become a little less true, and holiness a little less holy, to meet the appalling emergency. The worst is unflinchingly faced. In the interest of light triumphing over darkness, not by any plausible terms of accommodation, but before the open face of eternal righteousness, pure and untainted, the Father gives the cup and the Son drains it to the dregs. In that great transaction, thus consummated, before all intelligences, between the Father and the Son, it is clearly seen and conclusively proved that " God is light, and in him there is no darkness at all."

II. Such being the message in the fifth verse, the warning in the sixth verse becomes simply a self-evident inference: "If we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth." For if it is really into the fellowship of him who testifies of himself that he is light that we enter; and if it is in and through that wondrous way of dealing with our darkness; the incompatibility between our claiming fellowship with him and our walking in darkness is so gross that it may well warrant the strong language, "we lie, and do not the truth." The thing indeed is in itself impossible. We cannot, if we walk in darkness, have fellowship with him; "for what fellowship hath light with darkness, or what communion hath Christ with Belial?" The profession of such a thing is a lie. And it is a practical lie. He who makes it is not speaking, but acting, an untruth. His life is a practical falsehood. The apostle's words are very plain and energetic ; but they are not more so than the case requires : "we lie, and do not the truth."

For what is this walking in darkness ? What does it imply ?
One answer, in the first instance, must be given, plain and simple enough. All unholy walking is walking in darkness. So far there can be no mistake. The works of darkness are the works of the flesh (Ephes. v. 3-11; Gal. v. 19-21). But the matter must be pressed a little more closely home.

The characteristics of light, as has been seen, are, on the one hand, clearness, openness, transparency; and on the other hand, inviolability; its taking no impression from anything it comes in contact with ; but retaining and preserving its own pure nature, unmodified, un-mingled, unsoiled, unsullied by external influences; everywhere and evermore the same. Now darkness is the opposite of this light, and is characterised by opposite features. Instead of openness, there is concealment and disguise ; instead of inviolability, there is facile impressibility. Any object, every object, flings its shadow across the benighted path; shapes of all sorts haunt the gloom.

Now, without making too much of the figure, let the one thought of darkness being that which hides, dwell in our minds; and by the test of that thought let us try ourselves. Are we living, practically, in a moral and spiritual atmosphere, such as may cause distorted or disturbed vision, and so admit of things appearing different from what they really are? Is the room we sit in so shaded that what we care not to look for may escape our observation, and the somewhat coarse or crazy furniture may be skilfully arranged; its blemishes varnished over; its doubtful beauties magnified and made the most of ?

Ah! this walking in darkness! Is it not after all just walking deceitfully? Is it not simple insincerity - the want of perfect openness and transparent honesty in our dealings with God and with ourselves as to the real state of our hearts towards God, and the bent and bias of our affections away from God towards selfishness and worldliness? Is it not that we have in us and about us something to conceal or to disguise; something that does not quite satisfy us; something about which we have at least occasional misgivings; something that, when we think seriously, and confess, and pray, we slur over and do not like to dwell upon ; something that we try to represent to ourselves as not so bad as it seems - as indeed, in the circumstances, excusable and unavoidable ?

Alas, for this "deceitfulness of the heart!" It is indeed its "desperate wickedness." It is not that I seek to shroud myself in a thick cloak, under cloud of night, that, unseen by my fellows, I may wield the assassin's knife - or hatch with an accomplice some plot against the just - or with some frail companion do the deed of shame. It is not that I lock myself up alone in my secret and solitary chamber, to gloat over the cruel gains of griping avarice, or nurse in imagination some unhallowed passion. That, doubtless, is walking in darkness. But it is not perhaps the most insidious, or seductive, or subtle sort of such walking. It is when I would have the darkness, more or less thick, to hide me, or some part of me, from myself, and, if it were possible, from my God, that my walking in darkness becomes most perilous; when the secret consciousness that all is not right in me with reference to my Father in heaven - or that my brother on earth may have cause of complaint against me - moves me to get something interposed between me and the pure clear light of a quickened conscience, and the purer, clearer light of omniscient holiness. It matters not what that something may be. It may be the screen of some better quality on which I flatter myself I am unassailable. Or it may be some good deeds and devout observances which I am almost unawares setting up for a shelter. Or it may be some well-adjusted scheme of self-excuse and self-justification. It is something that casts a shadow. And walking in the darkness of that shadow, however I may say, and even think, that I have fellowship with God, I "lie and do not the truth." I do not act truly ; there is guile in my spirit.

It is not merely that my walking thus in darkness is so irreconcilable with my having fellowship with him who "is light and in whom is no darkness at all," that to claim such fellowship is to lie. That is implied in this statement; but it is not all that is implied in it. The walking in darkness is itself the lie; the acted, not spoken, untruth. It is aggravated, no doubt, by my saying that I have fellowship with him. But my saying so is a mere aggravation; it is not that which constitutes or makes the lie; if it were, the lie charged would be a spoken, and not an acted untruth. It would consist in my false profession. The charge would be a charge of conscious hypocrisy; saying that I have fellowship with him while my deliberate walking in darkness proves even to myself the contrary. That charge is not here; at least not necessarily. It is the hypocrisy of practice rather than of profession that is denounced.

I say that I have fellowship with him, not meaning to profess an untruth. But I walk in darkness; and in so walking I necessarily lie. Apart from anything I may say, my walking in darkness is in itself practical lying. "I do not the truth." I am not acting truly. I am not willing to have all that I do, and all that I am, brought fairly out and placed fully in the broad clear light of truth. I would wish it to be excused, or explained, or somehow obscured or coloured; huddled up or hurried over. I am not for having it exposed in the glaring sunshine. There is something in or about it that to some extent needs and courts the shade. "I lie and do not the truth." And therefore I cannot have fellowship with him who is True, him who is Holy, him who is Light. For it is only "if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, that we can have fellowship one with another;" "the blood of Jesus Christ, his Son, cleansing us from all sin."

III. From the solemn message in the fifth verse, and the faithful warning in the sixth, the gracious assurance in the seventh fitly follows; "We have fellowship one with another" God with us and we with God. For it is not our mutual fellowship as believers among ourselves that is meant; the introduction of that idea is irrelevant, and breaks the sense. It is our joint-fellowship with God, and his with us, that alone is to the purpose here.

The expression indeed is peculiar; it may seem to savour of familiarity ; putting the two parties almost, as it were, on a level; "We have fellowship one with another;" we with God and God with us.

The explanation may be found in the conditional clause - "if we walk in the light as he is in the light." For that clause associates God and us very intimately together. Observe a certain change of phraseology. It is not "as he is light" but "as he is in the light." It is a significant change. It brings out this great thought, that the same clear and lucid atmosphere surrounds us both. We walk in the light in which God is. It is the light of his own pure truth, his own holy nature. The light in which he is, in which he dwells, is his own light; the light which he is himself. In that light he sits enthroned. In that light he sees and knows, he surveys and judges, all things. And now the supposition is, that we walk - as he is - in that light. To us, the light in which we walk is identically the same as the light in which he is. The same lustrous glory of holiness shines on our walk and on his throne. The very same pure medium of vision is common to us both. "We see light in his light." Of old, it was written, respecting the scene at Sinai, " The people stood afar off, and Moses drew near unto the thick darkness where God was" (Exod. xx. 21). But now it is all light! For it is indeed a marvellous community of light that is here indicated as subsisting between God and us ; between the Holy One and his redeemed and regenerate people!

To have the same medium of vision with God himself; the same translucent, transparent atmosphere of holiness and truth and love surrounding us ; penetrating our inner man and purging our mind's eye, our soul's eye, our heart's eye, that it may see as God's eye sees; illuminating all space to us - before, behind, above, below - with the very illumination with which it is illuminated to him; causing all objects, actions, and events, all men and things, all thoughts, words, and deeds - our own as well as those of others - to appear to us exactly what they appear to him; thus to "walk in the light, as he is in the light" Who may stand that? Ah me! How shall I ever venture to walk out into that light in which God is? How can I face its terrible disclosures? I can see how this "walking in the light as he is in the light," does indeed open the way to fellowship of the closest sort between him and me. Literally we see all things in the same light. We therefore cannot but understand one another; and agree with one another; and sympathise with one another; and cooperate with one another ; "we have fellowship one with another." But is it possible that, with respect to all things whatsoever, I can bear to have the same light, the same medium of open vision, that God has? Sin, for instance; my sin; every sin of mine; every secret sin; so exceeding sinful! Oh! with such sin, and so much, about me, upon me, in me - how dare I go forth into that very light, so pure and piercing, in which God is? And yet where else now am I to look for him and find him in peace ?

I thank thee, 0 my God, 0 my Father, for that most precious word in season ; "The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin." Yes! it is "a word in season to the weary." For I am weary ; weary of the darkness in which I have been trying to hide or paint deformity, and get up some specious semblance of decency and beauty; weary of all impostures and all lies ; the poor and paltry lies especially of my self-deluding, or scarcely even self-deluding, self-righteousness; weary of all attempts to take advantage of the darkness for making evil seem a little less evil, and some show of good look a little more like reality. I would fain step forth from the darkness into light; into thy light, 0 God!

Thou mayest, do I hear thee say? For, be thy guilt ever so deep and thy heart ever so black, the blood of Jesus Christ my Son cleanseth from all sin. He has answered for all thy guilt. He has purchased for thee a new heart. The fountain filled with his atoning blood is ever freely open and full to overflowing. Wash in that fountain and be clean. Enter into the victory of light over darkness which that blood secures. Let all compromise take end; compromise is a work of darkness. I invite thee to have fellowship with me ; fellowship real, and not merely nominal, with me and with my Son Jesus Christ - fellowship with us in our plan and purpose of saving mercy - in all its grace and all its glory - a fellowship in it with us, of insight, confidence, partnership, sympathy, joy. If it is to be real fellowship, it must be a fellowship of light. I cannot modify, I cannot alter, that condition of the fellowship, any more than I can cease to be what I am - "light." But I do what is far better. I make provision for the removal of every obstacle which your guilt and corruption might interpose in the way of your walking in the light as I am in the bight. I give you the assurance that the blood of Jesus Christ my Son cleanseth from all sin.
Go To Chapter Four

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