And ye know that *he* has been manifested that he might take away our sins; and in him sin is not.
John has just defined sin as lawlessness. Now he sets Christ against it — the One who came to remove sins, and the One in whom there is none. Two questions follow. What did His coming achieve, and what does His sinlessness mean for people who still sin?
The word John chooses is not the one used for bearing a load. One writer weighs that difference. He quotes the verse in an older wording, "take away our sins," as most of the writers here do:
"And you know that He" (with emphasis) "was manifested that He might take away our sins." The word is not "bore," as in 1 Peter 2:24, but "take away" — and He did both by one act, completely. There can be no doubt who it was that suffered. Not God the Father, but the Son alone, the Lord Jesus. He only, He for ever, bore and took away our sins on the cross. This rules out an action spread over His life: it was a momentary act, but its effect lasts for ever.
That removal cost something:
The amazing appearing of "God manifest in flesh" carried the blessed purpose of taking sins fully away. We know this required the dread suffering and death of Calvary. His coming in grace did not overlook sin. It judged sin, and it took away the guilt of many sins. The believer wants nothing of this again on his shoulders.
One writer holds that the wording "our sins" narrows this on purpose:
Verse 5 only goes as far as this, that He was manifested to remove our sins, the sins of the children of God. Our sins are only a part of the whole, but they are the part in question here. The point is that the children of God have been brought out of the lawlessness that once marked them and into obedience.
The words say what was in Him, not only what He did. John defined sin as lawlessness. Here, instead, is a life of unbroken obedience to the Father's will:
Becoming flesh, He was entirely subject to the will of the Father. Coming into the world, He could say, "Behold, I have come to do your will, O God" (Hebrews 10:9). Passing through the world He could say, "I seek not my own will but the will of him who sent me" (John 5:30). Going out of the world, He could say, "Not my will, but yours, be done" (Luke 22:42)… In Him, then, there was no sin, or principle of lawlessness.
Commentators warn that a subtle denial is possible here:
The sinless humanity of the Lord Jesus is another vital part of the foundation. Yet many deny it. Some say that though the Lord did not sin, He had a human nature that might have sinned. This is false, for "in him there is no sin" (1 John 3:5).
One writer shows what this does for a believer sick of the sin he sees everywhere, including in himself:
"In him there is no sin" is not just a doctrine, important as that is. It is the blessed rest of the new nature. All around I see and grieve at sin; I know it works in my flesh. My new nature, like Noah's dove, finds no rest, no real rest. In Him I do find rest: "In him there is no sin."… But Jesus has loved me — loves me. He is the Man of God's delight and of my delight, the One I have learned to love and look to. In Him my spirit can rest — He is sinless. What a comfort! Sins He was manifested on purpose to take away. Blessed be God, He has done it!
Both halves of the verse press on the person who treats sin as a small thing:
Christ was manifested that He might take away our sins, and in Him there is no sin. So the one who sins acts against the very purpose for which Christ appeared. He also acts against the nature we share, if Christ is our life. Therefore he who abides in Christ does not practise sin.
Another writer turns this into a personal test:
If I truly believe that my sins caused His coming and His death, I shall hate sin. And since sin is against His nature — a nature we share — I see how inconsistent sinning is.
- Appeared — He came on purpose. His coming did not overlook sin; it judged sin, and the cost was the suffering and death of the cross.
- Taken away — the word is "take away," not "bore." One act, finished, with everlasting effect. The believer never carries those sins again.
- Ours — the sins in view are the sins of God's children, who have left lawlessness for obedience.
- No sin in Him — not only that He never sinned, but that there was nothing in Him to sin with. Commentators warn against giving Him a nature that could have failed.
- Therefore — to sin is to work against the very purpose of His appearing. Whoever abides in Him does not practise sin, and rests in the One where sin is not.
Whoever abides in him, does not sin whoever sins, has not seen him or known him.
Two verses earlier, John has said that sin is lawlessness. Verse 6 draws the conclusion, and it raises an old question: is John saying a real Christian never sins at all?
Much depends on what John means by "sins." The ESV renders it "keeps on sinning."
Verse 6 presents the contrast in the abstract, and it must be read together with verse 4. So "sins" here has the special force of "practises lawlessness." This is what marks out the children of God: they abide in Him who was revealed to take away our lawlessness. Being under His control, they do not practise lawlessness. On the contrary, the one who does practise lawlessness has not seen or known this blessed One.
One writer traces lawlessness to its root.
The essence of sin is doing one's own will without reference to God or man. The world around is increasingly marked by lawlessness — everyone doing what is right in his own eyes.
So what does it mean to abide in Him?
To abide in Christ is to depend on Him completely, for apart from Him we can do nothing. It is to live by His life. Where this is true, there will always be an ungrieved Spirit, always power, and so always victory over sin.
The same writer shows what this takes day by day.
Here then is the secret — it is abiding in Christ. Few would deny that no one can sin while abiding in Christ. Our very helplessness shuts us up to Him, and makes us cry to Him to keep us abiding in Him so that we may not sin. But this is continual work. Moment by moment we must look to Him. It is not one act; it is our life — a life of constant dependence on Him and His power.
The same letter says that anyone claiming to have no sin is self-deceived. Writers point to the way John argues. He describes one thing at a time, and leaves everything else out of view.
The clue to this and other difficulties lies in the remarkably abstract character of John's letters. Here John views the believer according to the new nature he has, in contrast with the world, which has none of it. But the same apostle does not forget to say, "If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." These two very different but equally true statements flow naturally out of their contexts.
Another writer traces this to the two natures in a believer.
Partaking of this new nature, and abiding in Him, we shall not sin. To abide in Christ is to see Him by faith, know Him by experience, and walk under His influence. The one who sins has not seen Him, nor known Him. The apostle is contrasting the two natures: the old nature is lawless; the new nature cannot sin.
John is not measuring a believer's lapses. He is exposing people who claimed to know God while living in sin.
There is no middle ground here. John is emphatic in rejecting mere false profession. The very nature by which a believer abides in Christ is a nature that rejects sin. So if a person's character is one that practises sin, he is a complete stranger to the blessed Lord... The apostle is not taking into account here the failings of a true believer. He does that in chapter 2:1, where the words apply to the true child of God — "If anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous." That is the case of someone overtaken by evil. He acts against his character as born of God, and restoration is available to him at once.
So why does a believer ever sin?
If the believer sins it is because he has lost sight of Christ and is not acting in the new life given to him. Another object takes the place of Christ. Then, acting in self-will, he is open to the schemes of the devil, who uses his old nature and the world to lead him astray. A child of God may sin, but he is no longer living in sin; if someone who professes faith lives constantly in sin, that is the evidence he has never known Him at all.
- Abide — abiding in Christ is complete dependence on Him, renewed moment by moment. It is a life, not a single act.
- Nature — the new nature cannot sin, and John describes the believer here according to that nature alone.
- Keep — while that dependence lasts, sin has no opening. When a believer sins, Christ has slipped out of view and another object has taken His place.
- Test — "sins" here means practising lawlessness: doing your own will without reference to God. That is the settled character of an unbeliever.
- Balance — the same letter says we still have sin, and gives the believer who falls an Advocate. Verse 6 exposes false profession, not the failings of a real child of God.
Children, let no man lead you astray; he that practises righteousness is righteous, even as *he* is righteous.
John warns his readers against teachers who were spreading a lie about sin. The verse gives a simple test — what a person practises — and then sets the standard as high as it can go with the words "as he is righteous."
The warning is not vague. It answers a specific error circulating among those John wrote to.
"Little children, let no one deceive you." This is what the false teachers and antichrists were doing. They had invented a terrible theory. They said the great blessing of Christ had swept away all need of self-judgment and holiness — that sin was gone in every sense. So a believer might take his ease in the world. If Christ had taken away all sin, why talk about it any more? What need of repentance or confession?
Notice who John is speaking to. The words "little children" are not aimed at beginners only, but at everyone in the family.
This is the only time the Lord Himself uses the word "little children" — a small form of the word that expresses affection. It does not mean a young believer only. It is the address of love to all His own. The disciple whom Jesus loved uses it the same way in his letter, when he addresses the whole family of God.
"Whoever practices righteousness" describes a settled habit, not a scattering of good deeds.
The doing is something habitual and characteristic. It is not that they do righteousness off and on, now and again, but that they practise it as the habit of their lives. They are far from being perfect in it — only One was that. Still, as born of God they necessarily have His nature. He is righteous: we know that right well. So righteousness must mark those born of Him: it could not be otherwise. When we see someone really practising righteousness, we are safe in assuming that such a person is a true child of God.
The word is wider than commercial honesty. Commentators define it as answering rightly to every relationship you stand in.
Notice that this goes much further than just paying your taxes, paying the people you owe, and using honest weights. It is responding to all moral relationships and duties.
Yet decent conduct on its own does not qualify.
The practice of righteousness is not simply the kindness and moral principles that the world can approve. It must show true faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Without that it is not righteousness at all, for God's claims of righteousness come first. We see His righteousness in Christ, and a true believer will, in his own measure, clearly resemble his Master in character.
Christ is the pattern, and the alternative is to invent a lower one from human society.
I must get my ideas of righteousness from the Righteous One. Otherwise I will have no true thought of righteousness. I might take honesty among men to be the righteousness spoken of here. But it is not that. I get the truth about a man when I see him in his relations with God. Cain and Abel probably got on well enough together until it became a question of approach to God. Both may have been just as honest in their dealings with men. But the true nature of each came to light when they set up their altars.
A verse like this can send an anxious reader inward, looking for evidence. That is the wrong direction.
This often alarms anyone immature in faith, because he at once naturally turns to look within. He does not find ground for satisfaction there, and, what is more, he never can. What we have to do is in the first place to rest on Christ made to us righteousness. This is the direction of faith. There is no object of faith in looking at ourselves; it brings experience of our utter weakness. Only when Christ fills the spiritual eye is His strength made perfect in our weakness. Then indeed follows practical righteousness.
God's claims on a Christian are not lowered. What changes is where the power to meet them comes from.
God has moral claims, and He does not lower these claims in the case of a Christian. On the contrary, responsibility on our part must rise in proportion as He makes known His grace and truth. But let us not forget that His grace gives power: a claim never does.
- Warning. The deception John blocks is the idea that because Christ dealt with sin, holiness and self-judgment no longer matter.
- Practice. The test is not what a person says but what he practises day after day — a settled character of righteousness, not perfection.
- Relationship. Righteousness means answering rightly in every moral relationship and duty. It is far more than paying your bills.
- Standard. The measure is Christ Himself. Take your standard from society and you get Cain's decency: correct with men, wrong with God.
- Spring. Look inward for proof and you find only weakness. Rest on Christ as your righteousness, and practical righteousness follows. Grace gives power; a claim never does.
He that practises sin is of the devil; for from [the] beginning the devil sins. To this end the Son of God has been manifested, that he might undo the works of the devil.
John draws a line through the whole human race: what a person practises shows who they belong to. Verse 8 traces sin back to the devil, then names the reason the Son of God appeared.
This verse has terrified people who know they have sinned. One writer traces the fear to a mistranslation, and points to two men who both failed:
This terror of soul comes from two mistakes: not seeing the two natures, and a mistranslation in these verses. It should be, "He that practises sin is of the devil." In each case it is "practises sin." ... Among the twelve disciples we have a striking instance of the difference. Judas practised sin; he sought an opportunity to betray Christ, and he was of the devil. When Peter sinned, sad as it was, did that look of Jesus say, "There, Peter, you have denied Me; you may go; you are of the devil now"? What a contrast!
"Of the devil" is not about ancestry. It describes a shared moral character:
He who practises sin is of the devil, and has morally the same nature as the devil; for he sins from the beginning — it is his original character as the devil. Now Christ was manifested that He might destroy the works of the devil. How then can one who shares the character of this enemy of souls be with Christ?
The same test applies to the believer. Sin in a Christian is not the new life at work:
When a believer sins, is this the activity of the nature received from God by new birth? Clearly not. It is the outflow of the nature inherited from Adam. But it is also the replication of the characteristics of the devil. For the human race, Adam is the source of sin. But in a practical sense, the devil is the pattern of sin.
The phrase does not stretch back into eternity. One writer sets its limit:
"From the beginning" is always in time, not before it, whatever epoch or period, person or thing it may be applied to. Take the earliest use of it. It is said of the great angel who fell: "the devil sins from the beginning." That was not even the beginning of his existence as an angel, but only of his existence as a fallen one.
The word behind "destroy" appears often in the New Testament, and usually with another sense:
The word here translated from the Greek into English as "destroy" occurs forty-two times in the New Testament. In most places it is commonly and correctly rendered "loose." Matthew 21:2 says "loose" the tied donkey. John 11:44 says "loose" Lazarus from his graveclothes. Luke 13:16 says, "Ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham, whom Satan has bound for eighteen years, to be loosed?"
Another writer names exactly what is undone:
The devil was committed to lawlessness from the outset. What he has done, leading men into lawlessness, the Son of God came to undo.
Taking away sins is not the whole of what He came to do:
He was manifested to take away the sins of those who are His. He was no less manifested to destroy the works of the devil. That undoing goes far beyond man's sins. It includes all the malice that dishonours God and injures man. We cannot overlook that here the Son of God stands against the evil one in person.
The decisive blow fell at the cross. The full clearance is still ahead:
His blessed, willing sacrifice of Himself at Calvary is the full destruction of the power of the devil (compare Hebrews 2:14). For there the blessed Son of God fully met sin and atoned for it — and sin is the only weapon in Satan's hand. Can the believer therefore have the slightest sympathy with the works of the devil, which Christ came to destroy?
Every trace of the one who introduced sin among God's creatures is to be removed. By the power of the blood of the cross, all things in heaven and on earth will be brought back into perfect harmony with God. They will be purged completely and permanently from the defilement of sin (Colossians 1:20).
- Pattern. The devil is the pattern of sin. Anyone who makes sin their practice is copying him. The copying, not a single failure, is what the verse exposes.
- Practice. Judas practised sin and was of the devil; Peter sinned and was still met by the look of Jesus. The distinction is between a life and a lapse.
- Beginning. "From the beginning" marks the start of the devil's fallen career, not the start of his existence.
- Loosing. "Destroy" is the word for loosing a donkey, loosing Lazarus, loosing a bound woman. Christ came to untie what the devil tied.
- Reach. The undoing goes beyond our sins to every work of malice against God and man. It was settled at the cross. It ends when no trace of the enemy is left in creation.
Whoever has been begotten of God does not practise sin, because his seed abides in him, and he cannot sin, because he has been begotten of God.
John writes here in absolute terms: the one born of God does not sin, and in fact cannot sin. Yet the same letter says that anyone who claims to have no sin is self-deceived. So what does John mean, and what is this "seed"?
Everything turns on one word. Is John ruling out a single act of sin, or a settled habit of sin?
On the one hand the apostle says, "If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." On the other hand he says, "I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin" — he supposes this possible, but not normal. The force of these words is not that a believer cannot commit a sin. Scripture and experience alike contradict that. It is that he cannot practise it, or be sinning, as he once was.
Two things clear up the difficulty. The first is how ordinary speech states the character of a thing. The second is John's own definition of sin, given a few verses earlier.
When we speak in the abstract, we leave out every qualifying detail on purpose. That way we set out more clearly the essential nature of the thing we are speaking about. To take the simplest of illustrations: we say, cork floats, alcohol intoxicates, fire burns. By this we state the essential character of these things. We do not commit ourselves to what may look like contradictions in practice. The old lady in the cottage might say, on this cold and windy day, that she only wished her fire did burn. We all know that this fault, which happens at times, does not alter the truth of the abstract statement — fire burns. The second help is to read this passage in the light of verse 4, where the word "sin" is defined for us. The point all through is the practice of righteousness, which shows itself in obedience, in contrast with the practice of lawlessness, which shows itself in disobedience.
Commentators differ here. Some tie the seed to the word of God:
So Scripture speaks of "the implanted word," and the apostle John connects the new nature with the word in the same way. The seed is Peter's "imperishable seed" of "the word of God," but the life the Spirit gives causes it to germinate; and, being everlasting life, His seed remains.
Others identify it as the life of Christ. That is why John says the believer cannot sin, not that he should not:
He says, "he cannot sin" (not, he ought not to sin). He speaks of the new man, not taking account of the old, but as being the true "I." If I sin, it is entirely my fault, for the temptation is never beyond what we are able to bear. "The seed of God" is the life of Christ in us, the new nature.
The last words give the reason: birth. A child carries the nature of the one who gave it life.
He who is born of God does not practise sin. The reason is obvious: he is made a partaker of the nature of God; he derives his life from Him. This principle of divine life is in him. He cannot sin, because he is born of God. This new nature did not have in it the principle of sin, so as to commit it. How could it be that the divine nature should sin?
The verse describes a nature, not an achievement:
We are not sinless. We do not believe in sinless perfection, but we have a nature that is sinless.
Yet this is no cover for sin.
The believer therefore cannot practise sin. If he does at any time sin, this is an act foreign to his proper nature. It is the product of the flesh, which remains in him, though he is "not in the flesh." There is a remedy for this, as we have seen in this letter, but no excuse whatever. The least sin is contrary to our proper nature as born of God.
The abstract statement is not a fiction, because God intends to make it visible.
John views us here in the abstract, according to the essential character of the new nature which is ours. He is entitled to do so. When God has completed His work concerning us, we shall be this not merely in the abstract but absolutely. The last trace of the Adam nature will be gone when our very bodies are glorified.
- Birth. Everything hangs on one cause: birth from God. The life comes from Him, so it carries His character.
- Seed. The gift is a seed that remains — permanent and imperishable. Some call it the word that gave the life; others, the life of Christ itself.
- Practice. John rules out the habit, not the single failure. A believer may sin; he cannot make sin his trade, as he once did.
- Abstract. John states it the way we say fire burns. The flesh is still there: this is a nature that cannot sin, not a person who never does.
- Glory. What is now true of the new nature alone will one day be true of us entirely, when the last trace of the old is gone.