NOTES for Jo1 4:11-18

For the apostle, love and knowledge of God are not only inseparable from one another; for him they are two sides of one and the same reality. No one has ever seen God, John says, but if we love one another, then God abides "in us," and the corresponding Greek expression can mean both "within each of us" and "among us." In this case God's love abides "in us," in both meanings of the expression, in all fullness. At first glance the thought that all knowledge of God is love may seem strange. There are other forms of it, after all, that do not deny love but also do not place it at the center of a person's relationship with God.

But if love is viewed not only as relations among people but also as a form of God's presence, the primary and foundational form for the Kingdom, much becomes clearer. Indeed, how can a person see God? The only real possibility, not counting speculative abstractions that usually have no relation to genuine knowledge of God, is awareness of that breath of life which God "breathed" into a person at creation.

Consciously placing it at the center of one's own life in all its manifestations. Only in this way can knowledge of God and communion with God become reality for a person. Then God's power and God's love become reality for him too: those forms of God's presence that were accessible to humanity even before Christ came into the world. Every other experience of communion with God proves derivative from the experience of becoming aware of this Presence.

But with Christ's coming the situation objectively changes: now every experience of the Presence, if it is genuine, is inseparable from the Kingdom entering the world. The breath of life given to everyone can today become a door into the Kingdom, if only one knocks. But only Christ can open the door, and when He opens it, the new foundation of a person's life becomes the energy of love on which the whole life of the Kingdom is founded. Only the life of the fallen world is founded on natural energy, yet God is hidden even behind natural energy.

But behind the energy of love God is not hidden; in it and through it He is revealed, and therefore it lies at the foundation of the Kingdom. But if, according to the Savior's words, the Kingdom is within us and among us, then love, if we are residents of the Kingdom, will also be within us and in our midst. And behind its concrete manifestations within us and among us stands the whole fullness of God's love revealed to the Kingdom. Everything else, every form of being, awareness, and knowledge of God, is derivative from God's love. Regardless of how much people understand this.

We continue to seek signs, for it seems that without them it is so hard to believe. We continue to wait for the Lord Himself to appear to us, to dream that we will see Him with our own eyes and hear Him with our own ears.

But we do not see the miracle of love in our life. Yet these miracles precisely, when suddenly and unexpectedly you understand that this person has looked at you with love, or that your own stony heart has suddenly warmed at the thought of another person, are the sign of God's presence in our heart and in this world.

The phrase "No one has ever seen God" sounds strange on the lips of the apostle John, who reclined at the Last Supper with his head on Jesus' breast, who saw Him on the Cross and saw Him risen. Yet perhaps the apostle meant something else: that God's existence cannot be proved, that He cannot force His disciples, even those whom He calls children, and that John himself still cannot force them to believe what he saw with his own eyes and heard with his own ears.

But everyone can see love. Because even in a world full of wars, hatred, and strife, love is always present and always conquers. For God has already conquered on the Cross by His love, and He is greater than the evil of this world. God is all-conquering love.

Why are fear and love incompatibles? Is God afraid of anything? Certainly, no! Well, it is so because He is almighty... And what of us? Here is John the Evangelist speaks about it: God Himself indwells in the one who loves, because God is love. And we thus have to be afraid of nothing. But if ever there is fear in us there (it is identified by the "torment"), then it is evident that love, God's presence in us is imperfect, insufficient.

There is another important moment here. The apostle John writes that love is manifested in the fulfillment of the commandments. Fear was the main motive for the fulfillment of the commandments in the Old Testament, and this fear paralyzed man. Indeed, commandments indicated what shouldn’t be done, and by longing to fulfill them, man was afraid of doing, in order not to do what is wrong. The new commandment, of which John writes, is formulated differently: do, love one another. The aspiration to fulfill this commandment frees man, manifests in him activity, initiative.

Why are fear and love incompatibles? Is God afraid of anything? Certainly, no! Well, it is so because He is almighty... And what of us? Here is John the Evangelist speaks about it: God Himself indwells in the one who loves, because God is love. And we thus have to be afraid of nothing. But if ever there is fear in us there (it is identified by the "torment"), then it is evident that love, God's presence in us is imperfect, insufficient.

There is another important moment here. The apostle John writes that love is manifested in the fulfillment of the commandments. Fear was the main motive for the fulfillment of the commandments in the Old Testament, and this fear paralyzed man. Indeed, commandments indicated what shouldn’t be done, and by longing to fulfill them, man was afraid of doing, in order not to do what is wrong. The new commandment, of which John writes, is formulated differently: do, love one another. The aspiration to fulfill this commandment frees man, manifests in him activity, initiative.

Why is there "no fear in love"? Why does the fact that fear has torment make fear an obstacle on the road of love? After all, it would seem that we often suffer while loving. If one thinks about it, no, not often.

We suffer if a person does not respond to our love, that is, when we fear that we are not loved enough in return, that we have not been properly valued. Then this is not love but longing for another person and wounded self-love; perfect love would simply wish the other happiness, without regret for oneself. We suffer from fear for the beloved, but such fear is, first, doubt in the beloved person, if we are speaking of an adult, and distrust of God, if we are speaking of a child.

Responsibility for a child, which compels one to protect him from danger, is part of parental love, but panicked fear that something will happen to the child is not at all a sign of great maternal or paternal feeling.

Fear is often found in relationships: fear of offending or being offended, fear of giving too little love or showing excessive ardor, fear of being oneself, fear of not being accepted. There are many fears, and they have one thing in common: fear creates an obstacle, like a small partition. It automatically increases the distance between people and makes it hard for the warm current of true love to pass, the love that is God, the love that creates the meeting of person with person and of the person with God.

God loved people not because they always behaved well, not because they were especially likable, not because they loved Him... He loved us for no reason at all. And when we say, “Why should I love Vasya Ivanov? He does not love me,” we move the conversation out of the realm of love and into the realm of mutual accounting and other barter exchanges. Love exists for no reason; love consists in someone simply loving—not “in response to love,” but simply...