The first letter of John is one of those books you may have heard many sermons from if you’ve spent any time in the church. There’s a lot to unpack in every passage. But when you zoom out and read the letter as a whole, in a single sitting (it’s only five chapters — six pages in my Bible) something striking happens.
A single refrain pulses through it like a heartbeat.
Whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness.
Whoever hates his brother is in darkness and walks in darkness.
Whoever does not love abides in death.
Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer.
If anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need yet closes his heart against him — how does God’s love abide in him?
Children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.
Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God.
Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.
If anyone says “I love God” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen.
John’s message is not subtle. It is terrifying in its simplicity.
“Little children, love one another…”
There is an old tradition about John the Apostle.
When he was very old, too weak to walk, the believers in Ephesus would carry him into the assembly. Every time, he would say only one thing:
“Little children, love one another.”
After hearing it again and again, someone finally asked him, “Why do you always say this?”
And John replied:
“Because it is the Lord’s command. And if this alone be done, it is enough.”
Who is your brother?
This phrase — “love your brother” — echoes all through 1 John (2:9, 3:15, 4:20).
Some translations add words like “fellow believer,” as if John is talking only about church members. But the Greek word he uses is ἀδελφός — adelphos.
Originally meaning brother, by the time of the New Testament it had come to mean any fellow human being.
“A fellow human being, a neighbour in the wider sense, not restricted to one’s own group.” — BDAG
“A person viewed as a fellow human being, especially in contexts of moral duty.” — Louw & Nida
John is not talking about tribal loyalty.
He is talking about how we treat humanity.
He is not speaking only of those who look like you,
or speak your language,
or vote the same way you do.
He is speaking also of those who do not share your beliefs —
those of different religions,
or no religion at all.
The neighbour.
The stranger.
Even the one who opposes you.
Love is the Test
John doesn’t play theological games.
For him, love isn’t one aspect of faith — it is the test of faith.
How we treat another human being
— any human being —
is the evidence of whether we truly know God.
Whoever says they are in the light but hates another is still in darkness.
Whoever hates is a murderer.
If anyone says “I love God” but hates another human, they are a liar — because if you cannot love the one you see, how can you love God, whom you do not see?”
Love Must Be Tangible
John will not let us escape into abstraction.
Love is not an emotion we admire —
it is a life we live.
“Let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.” (1 John 3:18)
Love feeds the hungry.
Love shelters the stranger.
Love lifts the dignity of those the world pushes aside —
the poor, the minority, the immigrant, the outsider.
A Grief I Cannot Shake
It grieves me — and I believe it grieves the Spirit —
when I see those who claim Christ preaching hate.
When churches march not to embrace the stranger
but to reject them.
Little children, love others.
If this alone be done, it is enough.
