NO ONE KNOWS for certain how long Jesus’ inner circle of twelve disciples was with him before his arrest and crucifixion. Traditionally, it’s thought to be about three years, in part because of the number of annual Passover festivals mentioned in John’s gospel. But it was long enough for them to form a strong bond with their Master. In that time, they had seen more than they could possibly have imagined when they first started following him: his righteous anger and his tenderness toward children; his miracles and healings, even to point of raising the dead; the adulation of the crowds and the persecution by his enemies. No one could best him in debate; no one spoke more wisely or with more authority.

But now, in the Upper Room, his words were unsettling and unwelcome. He was telling them that persecution was coming. He was announcing that he was leaving them, leaving the world, and going back to the Father. He was telling them that soon they would scatter and abandon him. He knew they would be bereft, and promised to send God’s Spirit to comfort and guide them. Eventually, they would find joy.

His final words to them in the Upper Room before he turned in prayer to his Father were therefore words of hope:

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. (John 16:33, NIV)

Peace in the face of trouble? Some of this would only make sense to the disciples after they had made it through the terror of Jesus’ arrest and crucifixion all the way to Easter. In that miracle of resurrection, Jesus would indeed show how he had overcome the world, overcome death itself.

But he says this before he’s even arrested, as if it were a done deal. And in a sense, it was: what would happen next would be a continuation of the same life of obedience and faithfulness in the face of persecution that he had already demonstrated in their presence. He had overcome the world. And in the power of the Spirit, they would too.

JOHN IS THE only gospel writer to record these words of Jesus, and we’ve seen repeatedly how his letter seems to echo what was said that night in the Upper Room. The same might be said of chapter 4 of 1 John. At the beginning of the chapter, he warns his readers about people who may claim to be Christians but don’t seem to believe that Jesus was a real human being. He advises them to “test the spirits,” to be wise and discerning about what others teach, beginning with the litmus test of agreeing that Jesus came in the flesh.

Having said this, John then offers more reassurance:

You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world. (1 John 4:4)

In contrast to those who had left the community, those whom John labels as anti-christ because they refused to believe in Jesus’ flesh-and-blood existence, John says that his beloved readers have “overcome them.” Given their distress and confusion over the split, that’s probably not how they felt, and John knows this.

But he wants them to have the big picture. Holding firmly to what they had been taught may seem like a small thing, but to John, it’s further evidence that they are truly God’s children, abiding in the truth. To refuse to compromise the gospel in the face of social pressure is a spiritual victory. It shows that the one who is in them is indeed greater than the one who is in the world.

Whom does John mean, though, when he says, “the one who is in you”? Who is that “one”?

At first blush, in context, it would be natural to read this as the Holy Spirit, whom John has already described as living in them. On that reading, John is making a contrast here between the Holy Spirit and the spirit of the antichrist at work in the world, as mentioned in the immediately preceding verse.

The hiccup in that reading, however, is a purely grammatical one. When John mentions “the one” who is in them, the Greek word translated as “the one” is in the masculine gender, while the word “spirit” is neuter (that is, neither masculine nor feminine). Whom then does John mean?

Answer the question for yourself: whom else would he mean?

WHEN I READ John’s letter, I imagine him as a white-haired and elderly man. It’s been decades since the Upper Room, but he’s not forgotten anything Jesus said that night. Quite the contrary: those words still echo in his consciousness. They define how he understands himself as an apostle — indeed, as a man. And as a revered elder, he wants to pass those identity-shaping words to those under his care and influence.

What he tells his readers, therefore, is more than just, You have the Holy Spirit, and the Holy Spirit is greater than the spirit of the antichrist. That’s why you faithfully prevailed. That’s why you stayed when the community split. Thinking back to the Upper Room, he’s telling them, Beloved, you have Jesus in you. He was the one who overcame the world. And he still does — in you.

That’s not, of course, to make a division between Jesus and the Holy Spirit. The apostle Paul, for example, calls the Holy Spirit the Spirit of Christ (Rom 8:9; Phil 1:19). And John himself, as we’ve seen, makes much in his letter of the relationship of mutual abiding, as Jesus taught his disciples in the Upper Room.

But I think John wants them to know: You believe that Jesus came in the flesh. You believe that he had a body like ours, that he lived a fully human life like we do. In that life, he suffered trouble and opposition. But he overcame it. He overcame the challenges of a physical life, and even overcame physical death. Beloved, through the Holy Spirit, that Jesus is in you, as you navigate the ups and downs of your own physical life. I see it; I know it because you held onto the gospel I taught you and you’re still here!

John knows that things have been tough, and wants them to see what he sees, in order to encourage them. And there’s more encouragement to come.