Behold, the Love of God (1 John 3:1–3) from South Woods Baptist Church on Vimeo.
In 1815, a man walked into the small town of Digne, France looking for food and a bed. With plenty of money for a room, he headed to the inn. However, with plenty of rooms for him, the inn told him to leave. Lowering his standard, he headed next for the local tavern. As quickly as he walked in, he was forced out. More and more desperate for a bed, he knocked at the local prison. A voice replied, “Get yourself arrested. Then we’ll open up for you.” Then, rather than give him a glass of water, a family pulled a shotgun on him. He then attempted to sleep in a hut on the side of the road, only to find a menacing set of growling dogs. To which he replied, “I’m not even a dog.” Resigning himself to the cold and the hunger, he laid down on a stone bench to sleep. Mercifully, a woman approached and asked why he slept on a bench rather than the inn. The man replied, “I knocked on every door. Everyone drove me away.” The woman then pointed to a small house on the opposite side of the square and asked, “Did you knock there?”
The man had been rejected at each place because of his yellow passport, which might as well have been in scarlet on his forehead. Though he’d served his sentence, this passport told everyone that he was a former convict. Though he’d attempted to hide this from the previous stops, word spread quickly in Digne.
Therefore, upon arriving at the door the woman told him to knock upon, he immediately blurts out to the inhabitants, “My name is Jean Valjean. I’m a convict. I’ve spent nineteen years in the clink.” As he continued detailing how dangerous he was, the bishop who lived there seemingly interrupts, “Madame Magloire, set one more place.” After Valjean again points out the realities of his passport, the bishop states, “Madame Magloire, put clean sheets on the bed.”
Hugo––the author of this narrative––then describes Valjean’s astonishment, “You mean it! You mean you’ll keep me? You’re not chasing me away? A convict!”
The former prisoner continues his effusive thanksgiving a few paragraphs later, “Monsieur, you are goodness itself. You don’t despise me. You take me into your home. You light your candles for me. Even though I didn’t hide from you where I’ve been or the fact that I’m a poor cursed man.” Hugo then describes the bishop’s response, “You didn’t have to tell me who you were. What do I need to know your name for? Besides, before you told me your name, you had one I knew.” The man opened his eyes in amazement and responds, “True? You knew what I was called?” “Yes” replied the bishop. “You are called my brother.”[1]
Valjean is, as the following pages of Les Miserables describe, staggered by the bishop’s words and actions. Though the rest of the town’s treatment might’ve been closer to what he’d earned, the bishop called him family. And treated him like it.
Our text today is not an unfamiliar one. The Apostle John writes, See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God. This too is entry to a house, though not the one belonging to the bishop of Digne.
In this text, we’re to join John in dropped–jaw wonder. It beckons us to see God’s love, until we see Him, so we might become more like Him. That’s our outline as well.
1. See God’s Love
When we studied 1 John 2:15 (Do not Love the World), we noticed how infrequent commands are in John’s writing. There are only 10 in the whole book. For every 1000 words, there are only 4 imperatives. Yet, the verb in verse 1––translated “see”––is another one.
However, I doubt you’ve read this familiar text as an imperative. Because the tone John employs is one of exultation, not unlike some of Paul’s doxologies. You’re reading in the book of Romans, for example, and while Paul is explaining the sovereign mercies of God, he seemingly interrupts himself in praise, “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgment[...]