NOTES for Jo1 1:5-2:2

The wish not to sin, and if one should fall into sin, to turn to Christ, whose sacrifice is the propitiation for sins of all the living, appears simple enough. We are given hope for forgiveness; nevertheless, the discussion of forgiveness begins with the call not to sin. Fulfilling such a call is difficult, and often it appears impossible, and yet it is not worth speaking of forgiveness if we constantly indulge ourselves and do not even try to resist sin. The concepts of what is due remain unshakable, no matter how often we depart from them; following them is the criterion of the truth of faith. Therefore knowledge of the commandments is not theory, for knowledge of a craft also consists not in memorizing technical norms, but in the ability to work.

There are two false images of God: one says that God is a stern overseer, judge, and executioner all at once; the other that He is a good-natured grandfather who watches our "pranks" with a smile. Clearly, both are lies. God is not indifferent to our sins; He is offended by them and is angry. But He does not wish to be an executioner, He does not want to punish us for our sins, He seeks an opportunity to have mercy on us. At the same time, sin inevitably brings retribution: death.

And so God finds the only possible way for our salvation: His Son becomes the sacrifice of propitiation, that is, He accepts death, paying for human sins, the sins of all people, by which justice is satisfied and the way is opened for God's mercy. Thus in Christ all people are offered the possibility of receiving God's pardon, and those who believe in Him receive it.

The words of John's letter seem paradoxical at first glance. On the one hand, he states that as Christians we must not be involved in sin, because the blood of Christ cleanses us from every sin (1 John 1:6-7). On the other hand, according to his own words, we are by no means sinless, and we had better not deceive ourselves about this (1 John 1:8).

Meanwhile, this paradox, or rather this antinomy, describes the phenomenon of biblical righteousness, known even in pre-Christian times. Sober-minded people who sought genuine spiritual life and, accordingly, firm relations with God never considered themselves perfect or sinless. And biblical righteousness was never equated with sinlessness. There is no darkness in God; in Him there is only light (1 John 1:5). This truth was known to believing Jews in every age. Righteousness is not light emitted by a person, but God's light reflected by him. Such is human righteousness, and this is exactly how the authors of the Old Testament books describe it.

In this respect nothing has changed: after the coming of Christ, the human being remained what he had been. Neither before nor now is anyone born into the world free from sin. But with the coming of the Messiah, something did change. New possibilities opened up. Formerly the Kingdom was beside the world. The prophets of Israel sometimes saw it as if through a transparent but insurmountable barrier. Many, not only among the Jewish people but throughout the world, sensed its breath.

But for the transformation of the world, for a complete and qualitative change in its nature, for its final liberation from the power of sin and death, this was not enough. The Kingdom had to enter into the world in all its fullness, inevitably colliding in doing so with the evil in which, according to the word of the Gospel, the fallen world lies. This collision, its first and chief blow, was taken upon Himself by the One who brought the Kingdom into the world, the Savior Himself. It was His blood that opened the road into the Kingdom for us. But not only that: it also opened the road for the Kingdom into our hearts. Formerly those who sought the path of righteousness strove to become a perfect reflection of God's light, in spite of their sinfulness, which remained unconquered to the end. Now those who seek the path of the Kingdom can become an open door through which the breath of the Kingdom enters the world being transformed. This happens in spite of their own sinfulness, which, however, has become conquerable thanks to what the Savior has done for us. And now the path of the Kingdom, beginning in our world that has not yet been transformed, is completed in the fullness of that Kingdom. In the fullness that will be revealed to the world on the day of the Savior's return. His return in glory.

How familiar some of us are with the feeling of fear and the reluctance to acknowledge our sin and take it to confession... It seems that, having fallen yet again, you will not be able to rise and that the Lord is thoroughly tired of it all. Perhaps the priest to whom you confess is tired of it too... It is precisely for such moments, when it is hard to look ahead and upward, toward His face, that the words we read today were spoken: “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). These words are meant to restore to us, or keep us from losing, that precious gift of God—the peace of heart with which He endows His children when we ask Him for it. Peace is a state of soul and spirit in which communion with God does not require a deliberate effort; we do not have to force ourselves to sit down to pray or to do good deeds “against ourselves.” In this peace we constantly feel God’s presence, entrusting our lives to His caring hands. And in precisely such a state, Jesus’ words, “...the one who comes to Me I will by no means cast out” (John 6:37), will never be forgotten, helping us rise again and follow Him, warmed by His light.

In today's reading from the letter of the holy apostle John, an interesting logical connection can be traced. John writes that God is light, and therefore if we are in darkness, this is a sure sign that we are not in communion with Him. This is understandable. But he continues: if we are in the light, then we have fellowship with one another. That is, the condition of this fellowship is being in the light. What kind of fellowship is this? It is entirely obvious that one can communicate with people while in a state of sin of any gravity, while being a militant atheist, and so on. One cannot claim that non-Christians do not communicate with one another.

Apparently John is speaking of a special kind of fellowship whose condition is being in the light of Christ. He probably has in mind the fellowship, the bond of people in the Church, when our relationships are determined first of all not by likes and dislikes, but by that for which, or more precisely around Whom, we are gathered: the person of Christ. His light enlightens and heals all relationships.

The fact that God is light, John obviously is not the first one to say it. And it is not even a matter that he could hear something like that from the mouth of the Savior: they speak of that in the books of the Old Testament too. Why then the apostle says it, as if he was opening and proclaiming again something which is an important part of the Good News? Before, nobody of course doubted that there is no darkness in God. But it is often mentioned in the books of the Old Testament that God, Who sends to man not only the good, but also evil. Certainly, much can be attributed to the type, theologically not verified biblical language, usually not distinguishing will and indulgence. And yet: it comes to live with God in a world, where there was place not only for the good, but also for evil, not only for light, but also for darkness.

It was not of course always like that: it is enough to remember the first chapter of the Book of Genesis, the tremendous poem of the creation, where in the first day of the creation God divides the light and the darkness, divides such that the darkness stay out of His created world, the world which in the first day of the creation seems before us quite flooded with the light of God's presence, this presence, which then embraced the whole world.

But after something happened, the world experienced a terrible catastrophe, and darkness darkened the creation which shone before. And here is, now everything returns again to the first day, the world becomes again bright and shining, and now God will never turn to man the dark side of His creation. The hour of the Kingdom is coming, the time of transformation, after which there won’t be darkness anymore in the life of those who chose God. And the apostle proclaims the coming of this Kingdom. As well as the Savior Himself proclaimed its proximity.

The language of Scripture is the language of paradoxes, because the reality described by the Word of God does not fit into unambiguous formulas. God Himself is paradoxical: He is One and Triune at the same time. His attitude toward us is paradoxical: He loves us as we are, but we, as we are, do not please Him. This world is paradoxical: it was created by the all-good God, yet it lies in evil. The apostle John writes in his letter about a similar paradoxicality within us.

On the one hand, we have "known Him," which is manifested in our keeping God's commandments. On the other hand, "if we say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar, and His word is not in us." This simultaneous presence within us of incompatible sin and grace is what makes up the tension, the dynamism of Christian life, our movement from darkness into light.

And the verse we have read today tells us how we should make this movement. We must openly acknowledge our sins before God, sins we discover as violations of Christ's commandment to love one another, acknowledge our lack of self-sufficiency, and ask Him to intervene in this situation. Then by His forgiveness He cleanses us from within, giving us the strength of the Holy Spirit for changing our life, for ascending toward Him.

Why does the apostle consider that the denial of man of his sinfulness is a false witness on Jesus? Of course, one could say that it is, first of all, about the sense of the earthly ministry of the Savior, Who said directly that the world lies in evil and that He came to deliver him it from this evil. Hardly in such a context our assertions of our own sinlessness will sound even a little convincing; they will become rather the witness of our thoughtlessness or arrogance.

Maybe and something else: John could answer in his message those of his coreligionists, who were (perhaps, quite sincerely) persuaded that having entrusted their fate to Christ, they had freed themselves just like that from the power of this sin, which prevented them from living formerly a righteous life. Knowing that sin and the Kingdom are incompatible and being assured that the Kingdom became an integral part of their life, they completely calmed down for their own sinfulness: it seemed to them that they are now not under the power of sin by definition.

The apostle, as seen, dispels their errors on his own account. But the main thing is all the same, probably, somewhere else: the denial by man of his own sinfulness makes very absurd the coming of the Savior into the world. Isaiah of Babylon already said that the Messiah is not going to suffer for His own sins, but for the sins of the people, to whom He will come. And the cleansing of the people from sin will become one of the essential tasks being before Him.

Jesus Himself spoke in particular about the salvation of the sinners from their sin, without cleansing of which one can not enter the Kingdom. But here is, it turns out now that were found in the Church people questioning this mission of the Savior. It is not surprising that John gives them a severe rebuke: for, not wishing to accept the proposed salvation, they not only did not go to Christ, but also misled the others on the path. John understood perfectly that it is about very important things, not to be treated so lightly.

The catholic epistle of the apostle and evangelist John the Theologian, written in the 90s of the first century, contains in concise form the very foundations of apostolic teaching. In it we hear the authentic testimony of the one who reclined on the Teacher's breast at the Last Supper and stood with the Most Holy Virgin at the foot of the Cross. As in the Gospel, the apostle John speaks in today's passage of the light that enlightens every person coming into the world. Here the apostle draws a kind of practical conclusion from this testimony. The light of God reaching the human heart enables us, he writes, not to lie to ourselves and to God. This is expressed first of all in repentance, in the confession of sins. If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves.

The apostle then writes of the most beautiful thing in the Gospel call to repentance: forgiveness. Our confession, in the precise sense of acknowledging our sins, leads not to humiliation and condemnation. God does not scold us as we scold children who admit their misdeeds, but through Christ's intercession grants us His forgiveness. Confession therefore becomes for us a path into new life. The radical difference of this new life is that in it a person keeps Christ's word, because God's love is brought to fulfilment in him.

There is great hope in these words. Although at first glance the text seems very stern, if we read it closely, it turns out that a liar is only someone who does not keep the commandments while claiming to know God. When you understand that you keep some commandments poorly or incompletely, it is important to remember that this means you have not yet come to know God, not that you are lying. It does not mean that if we fail to keep all the commandments, we have fallen away forever; it means only that we do not yet know Him, and that we have a clear instruction about what we must do in order to know God: keep His commandments and His word.

If someone hates, this does not mean that person is lost forever. It means only that they are not now in the light; but if they ask the Lord for the gift of love and strive to love the person they hate today, the Lord’s Light will illuminate them. If we do not succeed in acting as He acted, this does not mean that we are cursed. It means only that today we are not in Him and are far from Him; and if we set out on the path of imitating Christ and strive to follow Him, we will abide in Him.

In verse 3 we read: “so that you too may have fellowship with us.” It follows that people’s fellowship with one another is conditioned by each person’s communion with God. Only communion with Him, only prayer, makes the experience of one person’s Encounter with another possible. He unites us. He teaches us to love.

Yet the Apostle John describes not simply communion with God, but the assurance of a man who saw Jesus Christ with his own eyes and touched Him with his own hands. He bears witness to this in his epistle, showing that fellowship is built upon testimony. We can testify to what we ourselves have learned about God through our own experience and thereby give life. Today we cannot physically stretch out a hand and touch the Lord’s hand, and few people receive apparitions. Does that mean that fellowship and life are now impossible, at least the kind of which the apostle writes?

There is the experience of Encounter: when you communicate with someone and understand that the Lord is in him, that when you look at him you see God, and when you touch him you touch God. Sometimes this is indeed an extraordinary person whose life makes it obvious that he follows Christ and imitates Him. But sometimes it happens quite unexpectedly: you simply meet someone’s gaze and suddenly experience genuine joy that the Lord created us so different from one another; you look into another person’s eyes and learn something new about God. It is the experience of encounter and the experience of joy.

In God there is no darkness at all. In every person there is both light and darkness. Yet a spark of the divine Light can be discerned in everyone. The Lord forgives us our sin and our darkness, illuminates the darkest corners of the soul, and burns away sin with the fire of His love and His forgiveness.

The beginning of the letter echoes the beginning of the Gospel written by John, which in turn recalls the beginning of the book of Genesis. At first glance, there is also a difference: there the foundations of the world's order are narrated, while here John reminds us that he is a witness of what he is writing about. But his witness is not reduced merely to a formal confirmation of facts. It consists in proclaiming that John knows the essence of what he saw: the coming into the world of the Source of life. The purpose of the letter is precisely that people may have fellowship with Him and with one another, not secular socializing or the bustle of "hangouts," but an inexpressibly mysterious union with God and with brothers who have also entered into union with Him and with one another.

The criterion of the authenticity of such union should be the qualitative changes taking place in people, and not only formal membership in the brotherhood. But is there not a contradiction in saying that those who walk in the light cannot remain in darkness, if no one can claim to have no sin?

No, because it is only thanks to the light that one can see one's own sinful darkness. Having seen it, one should not hide back in the darkness, but on the contrary, go boldly with repentance toward the light that delivers from sin.