1913 287 It is most interesting to note that the Apostle in this wonderful verse uses two different words for knowing. The first is, as all scholars are aware, allied to the Greek verb for seeing. It therefore implies ("connotes" is the technical term) the latter act, and, in fact, literally and ultimately oidamen (the word with which the verse opens) means "we have seen." It is the perfect tense, invariably, however, translated as at present ("we know") which gives the practical force of the expression. It is also the tense so habitually used by St. John, and exactly answers to the intention of the writer who, as guided by the Holy Spirit, loves to present in brief and telling phrase, and with the calm born of divine assurance, the great cardinal verities of our most holy faith. Again and again in his writings, pre-eminently in this Epistle (cf. 1 John 1), we are struck by this wonderful reiteration.
But this "we know," with which the verse opens, becomes even more striking as we read on, and are told of the understanding given to us "that we may know (gignoskomen), where we have the growing knowledge that results from growing understanding. This second word means "to get to know." Having had our spiritual vision illuminated (oidamen), we go on to know more and more. Our fathers know more than the young men, the young men than the babes, though the little children (paidia as distinct from teknia which applies to all) know the Father. And here it is incumbent on me to point out that in 1 John 2:13, the apostle uses the second word (gignosko) saying to the, little children, "Ye have got to know" (egnoskate) — needless to say with perfect propriety. How beautiful to see that, short as had been their spiritual life, the babes had got to know the Father. But this is true on the lower plane of nature, is it not? The little child knows its father's heart. Thus all is divinely perfect. Talk of the precision of Plato or Aristotle. Here is what transcends all. And, blessed be God, it is neither the vain imaginings, beautiful as they often are, of Plato, nor the colder, if intellect-fortifying, logic of Aristotle; but, while based on the soundest, yea, on Divine logic, we have what feeds inexhaustibly the renewed heart and mind.
But there are other points to notice, and of weightiest moment. The general reader is naturally unaware that in the opulent tongue in which the New Testament was written there are two words for "true." When the thought is merely of what is true in fact, the word is alethes but there is a fuller term, frequently found in the Johannine writings, which, as the late Bishop Westcott lucidly points out, means ideally true, rising up to the highest conception of truth. In scripture, of course, it is a divinely-transfigured word, as far above what the loftiest imagination of the most gifted poets has conceived, as their genius towers above the capacity of the average mind; and a great deal more so. It is the divine ideal we have here. And we note that the same word is used by our Lord of Himself. "I am the true vine" (he ampelos he alethine).
And, lastly, let us note the application, within the limits of a single verse, of the term alethinos both to the Father and the Son. We are given an understanding that we may get to know Him that is true. Clearly we are to understand this of the Father whom the Son reveals. But immediately after, the apostle writes: "And we are in him that is true, even in his Son, Jesus Christ." I recollect years ago the late Mr. W. Kelly strikingly comparing (though in reference to an earlier passage in this same Epistle) this marvellous shading off from One Person of the Trinity to another with the baffling and somewhat bewildering nuances, beautiful though they be, of shot silk. Only the illustration must fall infinitely below the thing illustrated, and in the word of God there is no baffling and no bewilderment for him who simply believes. R.B.