Summary: Our affirmation as the children of God requires us to grow in the purity of the Gospel, defined as truth, love and restraint.
This is a pleasant little text, often recited at baptisms. A beautiful child is lifted up to the church, brow still wet, and the scripture is spoken: This is what we are: the children of God. As soon as the words are put into the air, there is a collective sound of delight. The love of God is announced. A new saint has been introduced. Those in the crowd smile at the heavenly resemblance.
Church of God, did you hear what John calls us? The beloved children of God! There is no greater affirmation of our identity. Before making any effort of our own, we are welcomed into the world in love. Heaven embraces us. God claims us. Such love is a gift beyond calculation.
And yet, this welcome is set against a world that can be indifferent, cruel, even antagonistic. To set our text in context, an early church leader named John has been warning the church about sin. Apparently, the cute little children of God are prone to corruption. The first letter of John warns of self-deception, especially for those who think they are exempt from sin.1 He's concerned about the inconsistency of those who profess to love God but refuse to live by the Lord's instruction.2 Many are tempted to love material things rather than the Creator.3 And if the communal life they share is not rooted in love, it is deadly.4
We don't know anything about John's circumstances. Perhaps he offered this letter as the final lesson from a long life. Perhaps he lived in the opulent Roman city of Ephesus, surrounded by wealth and the worship of pagan deities. Later in the letter he warns against idolatry.5 John knows the world out there can be a dangerous place, full of temptations. In such a world, little children, despite their innocence, can be twisted out of shape, as can adults who too are children of God.
This paradox becomes clear as we celebrate All Saints Day so close to the Great American celebration of Halloween. In one town, a teenage girl tended to the steady stream of little children coming to the front door of her family's home. Between 6:00 p.m. and 8:30 p.m., the kids traipsed up the driveway and knocked on the door. "Trick or treat!"
It began as a fun night but became exhausting. She grumbled to her parents, "Some of these kids are awfully greedy!" The goblins and ghosts were fairly polite, she noted, but one suburban princess in blue believed she was entitled to a lot more. She jammed two hands in the candy bowl and grabbed as much as she could. A child of God? Or merely a consumer in training?
Some years ago, Dr. Madeleine Levine, a child psychologist, authored a book about the toxic qualities of our society. The book was titled, The Price of Privilege,6 and the subtitle named some of the challenge: How Parental Pressure and Material Advantage are Creating a Generation of Disconnected and Unhappy Kids.
Dr. Levine noted how affluence does not make anybody happy. Parents who work harder and longer to maintain their standard of living can end up damaging family life. The pressure laid on young kids to get into a high achieving university can push them over an emotional cliff. On the first page, Dr. Levine writes about a teen who was given everything by her parents, yet she cuts her arms to express her unseen pain.
No doubt, the reasons are many. Anxious hearts have been shaped by the fear of scarcity, and so few are satisfied with what they have. Appetites have not been trained or restrained, so some kids take all the candy they can grab. They have been instructed by a world that does not know Jesus, a world that tells its children that they are in it only for their own gain.
And yet the paradox is that all the trick-or-treaters are God's children now. They belong to the God who loves them. The journey of claiming this identity will require learning to resist greed, hostility, selfishness and a spirit of entitlement. A toxic world has infected us with its selfish impulses. Getting and grabbing are more important than loving God and one another.
In today's text, John offers a suggestion for a good life. Here it is: Grow up. The spiritual life requires maturity. We must take a long view of our spiritual development, because it takes a while to become more like Jesus. If we welcome the Holy Spirit's unrushed transformation of our lives, we will know it will require some discipline.
John's word for discipline is "purify." He uses it only once, in verse three. John pictures Christ's followers who discern the purity of God, who, in turn, purify themselves. Perhaps he hears the echo of Jesus, who taught "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God."7 Jesus speaks of the destination, while John mentions the process. The true children of God purify themselves. Trusting they belong to God, they continue to work at what that means.
True purity is more than tending to our outward behaviors. As John reminds us, we never outrun our capacity for sin. There is the present possibility of self-deception. This is why purity is a matter of the heart. In the context of this letter, purity is honesty. We tell the truth about the paradox of our identity -- God's children now in a world tempting us to sin -- and we never distort this truth or bend it in our own direction. We reach for God's cleansing power every single day. That's purity.
According to this letter, purity of the heart is expressed as love for those around us. As we love, we show ourselves as offspring of God. God's character is complete love, self-giving love. Our love is perfected in practice. As summarized in one of John's most memorable lines, "How does God's love abide in anyone who has the world's goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? Little children, let us love not in word or speech but in deed and truth."8
Purity is a matter of honesty and generous love. It is also a matter of restraint. We do not chase after everything the world offers. We restrain ourselves that we might chase after God. Jesus is our model. As John notes, "The world does not know him." Why is that? Because the life of Jesus was a model of restraint.
Recall the story of his life: for over thirty years, Jesus blended in. He spent years in the family carpenter shop, cutting lumber to size, catching the occasional splinter. To the neighbors around him, there was no halo over his head. That would be painted in hundreds of years later. Even after the day he gave himself to be baptized -- when the heavens were torn open, and the big Voice spoke and the Spirit fluttered down like a dove -- a number of people missed who Jesus was. They still miss him if they are looking for the flash, the sparkle and the dazzling light. He comes to us quietly, healing, teaching and offering only quick glimpses of his glory.
The real Jesus is hidden from the world, and in the same way, he will be seen only by those who have a hiddenness to their purity. They know the truth of who they are, they know the mercy they need from God and they know the love they are called to show abundantly to others.
We know these people. There's the teacher who prays through a list of neighbors in her diary and the retired police officer who tutors kids in math. There is the widow who nursed her husband for three years before his passing and wears a yellow dress to his funeral to express her Easter faith. There is the recovering alcoholic who goes to anybody who falls off the wagon, staying as long as needed. There is the teen who stands up for anybody who is being put down. There is even the princess in the blue dress who says to her little brother, "I know you were sick and couldn't go trick or treating. Would you like some of my candy?" And then she gives it all to him.
Truth, love, restraint -- these are the real pursuits of purity. Biblically speaking, this is how saints are made. This is the clear trajectory for growing in the Christian life. And the clear promise of scripture is that when Christ is revealed, "we will be like him, for we will see him as he is."