The Two-Sided Coin of Assurance: Love and Obedience Text: 1 John 3:11-24
Introduction: The Litmus Test of Reality
The Christian faith is not a sentimental feeling, a vague spiritual notion, or a philosophical preference. It is a radical transplant of a human heart. It is a passing from death into life. And like any genuine transplant, there are signs of whether the new organ has been accepted or rejected. The Apostle John, writing as a seasoned pastor, is deeply concerned that the believers under his care have a robust, grounded, and biblical assurance of their salvation. He is not interested in propping up false hopes, nor is he interested in leaving true saints wallowing in doubt.
So he provides a series of diagnostic tests. Not so we can navel-gaze our way into a state of spiritual hypochondria, but so we can look at the objective realities that God produces in the lives of His children and take comfort. In our passage today, John lays before us one of the most potent of these tests: the presence of genuine, sacrificial, active love for the brethren. This love is not the world's cheap imitation of love, which is often little more than self-interest in a pious costume. This is a supernatural love, a love that flows from the very heart of God, and its presence in our lives is a clear indication that we have been born of Him.
But this test is a two-sided coin. On one side is love for the brethren. On the other is hatred from the world. John wants us to understand that these two things are inextricably linked. The same spiritual reality that produces supernatural love inside the church will inevitably produce irrational hatred outside the church. If we are surprised by one, it is likely because we are faking the other. John begins with the oldest story of this conflict, the story of two brothers at the dawn of time, to show us that this is the fundamental spiritual reality of a fallen world.
The Text
For this is the message which you have heard from the beginning, that we should love one another; not as Cain, who was of the evil one and slew his brother. And for what reason did he slay him? Because his deeds were evil, and his brother’s were righteous. Do not marvel, brothers, if the world hates you. We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brothers. The one who does not love abides in death. Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life abiding in him. By this we have known love, that He laid down His life for us; and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers. But whoever has the world’s goods, and sees his brother in need and closes his heart against him, how does the love of God abide in him? Little children, let us not love with word or with tongue, but in deed and truth. And by this we will know that we are of the truth, and will assure our heart before Him in whatever our heart condemns us; for God is greater than our heart and knows all things. Beloved, if our heart does not condemn us, we have confidence before God; and whatever we ask we receive from Him, because we keep His commandments and do the things that are pleasing in His sight. And this is His commandment, that we believe in the name of His Son Jesus Christ, and love one another, just as He gave a commandment to us. And the one who keeps His commandments abides in Him, and He in him. We know by this that He abides in us, by the Spirit whom He gave us.
(1 John 3:11-24 LSB)
The Ancient Animosity (vv. 11-13)
John begins by grounding his command in the apostolic message, and then immediately illustrates it with the ultimate negative example.
"For this is the message which you have heard from the beginning, that we should love one another; not as Cain, who was of the evil one and slew his brother. And for what reason did he slay him? Because his deeds were evil, and his brother’s were righteous. Do not marvel, brothers, if the world hates you." (1 John 3:11-13)
The command to love is not a novel suggestion; it is primordial. It is woven into the fabric of the gospel from the beginning. But to understand this love, John immediately shows us its antithesis: Cain. Cain is not presented as a man who simply had a bad day or some anger management issues. He was "of the evil one." His paternity was spiritual. He belonged to the devil's family, and his actions reflected his family's nature.
And why the murder? John is explicit. It was not a squabble over property lines. It was a theological hatred. Cain slew Abel "because his deeds were evil, and his brother’s were righteous." Abel's righteous offering, accepted by God, was a standing rebuke to Cain's self-righteous, disobedient offering. The very presence of Abel's goodness was an intolerable indictment of Cain's evil. Abel did not have to say a word; his righteous life preached a sermon that Cain could not bear. And so, he silenced the preacher.
This, John says, is the paradigm for the world's relationship to the church. "Do not marvel, brothers, if the world hates you." We should stop being surprised by this. It is not an anomaly; it is the norm. The world is Cain's world. It operates on the principle of envy, pride, and self-righteousness. When the church, like Abel, offers up the righteous sacrifice of faith in Christ, it exposes the world's deeds as evil. Our very existence, if it is a righteous one, is a provocation. The world hates us not because we are obnoxious (though sometimes we are), but because we are righteous, and our righteousness is a testimony against them. If the world is comfortable with you, you should probably check your spiritual pulse.
The Great Migration and Its Evidence (vv. 14-18)
John now turns from the world's hatred to the church's love as the great evidence of salvation.
"We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brothers. The one who does not love abides in death. Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life abiding in him." (1 John 3:14-15 LSB)
Here is a central pillar of Christian assurance. How do we know we have been transferred from the kingdom of death to the kingdom of life? Not by peering into our hearts for a mystical feeling, but by observing the objective fruit of a new nature. Do you love the brethren? This love is the tell-tale sign of regeneration. A lack of this love is an equally potent sign that one remains in the realm of death. John is not mincing words. He equates hatred for a brother with murder. The seed of the act is the act itself in God's economy. Jesus taught the same thing in the Sermon on the Mount. If you harbor hatred, you are a murderer at heart, and John flatly states that "no murderer has eternal life abiding in him." This is a severe mercy. It is a sharp warning to anyone in the church who is nursing grudges, bitterness, and animosity.
So what does this love look like? John gives us the ultimate definition and a painfully practical application.
"By this we have known love, that He laid down His life for us; and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers. But whoever has the world’s goods, and sees his brother in need and closes his heart against him, how does the love of God abide in him? Little children, let us not love with word or with tongue, but in deed and truth." (1 John 3:16-18 LSB)
The definition of love is not found in a dictionary, but on a cross. "He laid down His life for us." This is the standard. This is the pattern. Christian love is not a feeling; it is a self-sacrificial act. And the logical consequence is staggering: "we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers." This might mean literal martyrdom, but for most of us, it means a thousand daily deaths to self. It means laying down our time, our convenience, our resources, our preferences, and our pride for the good of our brothers and sisters.
John immediately brings this out of the theoretical clouds and puts it on the pavement. If you have material possessions and see a brother in need but do nothing, your claim to love is a sham. "How does the love of God abide in him?" The question is rhetorical. It doesn't. John concludes this section with a tender but firm exhortation: "Little children, let us not love with word or with tongue, but in deed and in truth." Talk is cheap. Pious platitudes are worthless. Real, biblical love gets its hands dirty. It writes the check, makes the meal, watches the kids, and shows up to help move the furniture.
The Confident Heart (vv. 19-24)
This practical love becomes the foundation for a confident heart before God, even when our hearts are prone to condemn us.
"And by this we will know that we are of the truth, and will assure our heart before Him in whatever our heart condemns us; for God is greater than our heart and knows all things. Beloved, if our heart does not condemn us, we have confidence before God; and whatever we ask we receive from Him, because we keep His commandments and do the things that are pleasing in His sight." (1 John 3:19-22 LSB)
Here we see the interplay between objective evidence and subjective confidence. By loving in deed and truth (v. 18), we gain assurance. This practical obedience is how we "assure our heart before Him." But what about when our hearts condemn us? What about when our failures, our sins, and our weaknesses scream at us? John gives us a glorious truth: "God is greater than our heart and knows all things."
Our hearts are fickle and often unreliable narrators. They can be overly scrupulous, plagued by false guilt, or simply forgetful of the gospel. But God is greater. He knows our frame. He knows our repentance is genuine even when it feels weak. He knows our love for the brethren is real, even when it is imperfect. He knows all things, including the finished work of His Son on our behalf. Our assurance is not ultimately grounded in the perfection of our love, but in the greatness of our God who sees the love He Himself has planted in us. When our heart condemns us, we must appeal to a higher court. We must appeal to God.
The result of this assurance is confidence, or boldness, before God. This confidence is not arrogance. It is the confidence of a beloved child who knows his father's love. And this confidence has a direct effect on our prayer life. We receive what we ask because we are walking in obedience. This is not a transactional formula, but a relational reality. A child who is pleasing his father has no trouble asking for what he needs, and the father delights to give it.
The Core Commandment (vv. 23-24)
John concludes by summarizing the entire Christian life into one dual commandment, and points to the ultimate source of our abiding.
"And this is His commandment, that we believe in the name of His Son Jesus Christ, and love one another, just as He gave a commandment to us. And the one who keeps His commandments abides in Him, and He in him. We know by this that He abides in us, by the Spirit whom He gave us." (1 John 3:23-24 LSB)
What is the whole duty of man, Christian-style? It is twofold, yet one. First, "believe in the name of His Son Jesus Christ." This is the root. This is faith. This is trusting entirely in His person and work for our salvation. Second, "love one another." This is the fruit. This is the necessary outworking of genuine faith. You cannot have one without the other. To claim to believe in Jesus while hating your brother is to be a liar. To try to love your brother without being rooted in faith in Jesus is to be a mere moralist, and your love will eventually run out of gas.
This obedience is the sign of a mutual abiding. We abide in Him, and He abides in us. And how can we know this for sure? John gives us the final, internal witness: "by the Spirit whom He gave us." The objective evidence of our love for the brethren is confirmed by the subjective, internal testimony of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit is the one who produces the love, and He is the one who then whispers to our hearts, confirming that this love is the real deal, and that we are, in fact, the children of God. The external fruit and the internal witness work together, giving the believer a solid, unshakable foundation for their assurance.