The man who denies that Jesus is the Christ –
he is the liar,
he is Antichrist;
and he is denying the Father as well as the Son,
because no one who has the Father can deny the Son,
and to acknowledge the Son is to have the Father as well.
Keep alive in yourselves what you were taught in the beginning:
as long as what you were taught in the beginning is alive in you,
you will live in the Son
and in the Father;
and what is promised to you by his own promise
is eternal life.
This is all that I am writing to you about the people who are trying to lead you astray.
But you have not lost the anointing that he gave you,
and you do not need anyone to teach you;
the anointing he gave teaches you everything;
you are anointed with truth, not with a lie,
and as it has taught you, so you must stay in him.
Live in Christ, then, my children,
so that if he appears, we may have full confidence,
and not turn from him in shame
at his coming.
Sometimes, uttering the plain truth isn't enough.
Imagine this conversation:
"Why did you do that?"
"I don't know."
"I don't believe you."
"I really don't know. I just did it."
"Tell me the truth!"
It's almost impossible to convince someone who already has an answer to his own question. Like squeezing toothpaste out of its tube, we tend to forcibly squeeze that "lying sonovabitch" through our narrow expectations.
Could we be faulted for doubting?
There are doubts that are reasonable: I don't have enough evidence, I'm not that sure, I still have to check and verify. But reasonable doubt isn't often the kind of doubt that comes out of us. It is a doubt born of anger from being lied to and cheated on, a doubt coming from a fear of having to be helpless and wounded again, a doubt rooted in our own experience of obfuscating and hairsplitting and distorting what we tell others.
If that's not bad enough, imagine someone (ex)claiming "It's TRUE!" Such a remark provokes more skepticism and dismissiveness than acceptance and belief. "Hard sell"--that's what turns us off. It makes such truth claims desperate and pathetic. We hurriedly walk away from it, as if we were being accosted by someone who obnoxiously sells us something we never intend to buy.
As with all exasperated propagandists, imagine someone resorting to name-calling: Liar! Stupid! Ignorant! Antichrist! Keep that up and you'll eventually find yourself arguing for your truth, deserted and alone.
Admittedly, John begins on the wrong foot, despite his impassioned battle cry: "The man who denies that Jesus is the Christ – he is the liar, he is Antichrist.."
One can almost hear voices in the audience murmuring: "Wait, I haven't come to deny that Jesus is the Christ yet. Okay, so I'm a liar now. Yes, I may have tiny doubts but to call me an Antichrist? ktnxbye."
But wait, surely, we could understand where John is coming from. He knows this Jesus; they were bosom buddies. He saw everything, and he has come to believe. He firmly adheres to the truth that he has seen and heard and experienced. Give the poor evangelist a break. He's had a rough day with all these Christ naysayers.
If we listen long enough, even in our doubting and confusion, we notice him calming down as well. He has written and published his op-ed piece: "This is all that I am writing to you about the people who are trying to lead you astray."
He seems to have given up. What else could he really say to those who continue to doubt and aggressively deny? He has only spoken of the truth that he knows and understands. Only in the way he knows and understands.
In that seeming resignation, he makes an act of faith. John knows that what he preaches about is greater than and beyond himself. Against denial, he offers not a convincing proof, but an affirming conviction. Against doubt, he puts forth what he believes in.
Christos, the "anointed" one, has already doused us in his own fragrant oil and marked each one of us for his own. Like a mother who knows the scent of her children, the unmistakable scent of that which we have been anointed allows this Christ to look for us. Interestingly, the sense of smell doesn't depend on sight nor touch. You could be tracked and found, despite the distance and the lack of visibility. Even if you ran away, and got lost, he'll find you. If ever, just if ever, you finally yearn to be found, but have strayed too far, he'll still find you.
But how would I know, you might say; I doubt if I'll be able to recognise this Christ at all.
You'll know when he's near, one couldn't doubt the familiar scent of the anointed.
Trust your nose.
