WHEN I WAS a kid, I grew up in a home built into the side of a hill, with a driveway that sloped upward toward the house. Our mailbox was on the street, at the foot of the driveway. It was the old-fashioned kind, made of unpainted galvanized steel and mounted on a wooden post, with a metal flag on the side that you could raise to let the postal worker know you had something in there to send out. Every day, someone would trudge down the driveway just to check if we had mail; more often than not, the box was empty.

This was a time before electronic communication and the ubiquitous volume of bulk mail advertising I’m used to now. Our physical mailbox is now just outside our front door, and most of what we get is junk mail that I toss into the recycling bin with hardly a glance.

But back then, because it didn’t happen very often, it was actually a little exciting to receive a letter. If it was addressed to you, you read the letter slowly and sometimes more than once. Even if the letter wasn’t addressed to you, you wanted to know who it was from and what it said. I wasn’t the kind of kid who would have opened and read someone else’s mail — but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t tempted to do so as I walked back up the driveway, treasures in hand.

Of all the letters of the New Testament, 3 John is the one that most closely follows the letter-writing conventions of the day. It’s also the one that seems the most intimate; to read it feels like reading someone else’s mail. That is, of course, exactly what we’re doing with any of the New Testament epistles, but the tone of 3 John is deeply personal, written by the Elder to a dear friend named Gaius. At no point does it feel like John is writing a theological essay or preaching a sermon. He does, of course, write from a position of authority, and he has some strong words to say about a troublesome person named Diotrephes. But the overall tone of the letter is positive — a refreshing change from some of the harsh verbiage of 1 and 2 John, with their language of liars, deceivers, children of the devil, and antichrists.

We’ll spend some time unpacking this short letter, which by word count in the Greek is the shortest book in the New Testament. And unlike 2 John, the letter doesn’t have a clear or direct connection to the situation in 1 John. We are again left to reading between the lines in order to reconstruct the situation that prompted John to write.

The situation, in brief, seems to be something like this. John has been sending emissaries out to other communities — or possibly, people loyal to John have been traveling on their own initiative as missionaries, with his knowledge and support. For the most part, they have been received with hospitality by other believers in other communities.

But there is one community where this has not consistently been the case, a congregation in which both John’s friend Gaius and Diotrephes are members. Gaius is welcoming and hospitable, and John commends him accordingly. Diotrephes, however, seems to have a grudge against John. He refuses to host any of the apostle’s emissaries, and being a man of some power and influence in the congregation, pressures others to do the same.

There’s a fourth and final character in this one-act drama; his part is a small but crucial one. John is now sending out a man named Demetrius. He sends him directly to Gaius with 3 John as a letter of introduction. In that day, such letters of introduction helped bridge the gap of trust between people who would otherwise remain strangers to each other. This was a common practice, which is why at the beginning of 2 Corinthians 3, the apostle Paul hints at how his detractors have been criticizing him behind his back for not carrying such letters.

The immediate question then is what Gaius will do when Demetrius shows up on his doorstep, letter in hand. Third John suggests a strong bond of affection between Gaius and the apostle. Four times in a mere 15 verses, John calls him “dear friend” — the word is literally “beloved.” Thus, on the one hand, Gaius’ loyalty to John will exert a strong pull toward welcoming Demetrius with open arms.

On the other hand, however, John seems uncertain of the outcome. Diotrephes has been throwing his weight around, spreading rumors about John and kicking people out of the church when they don’t do things his way. Will Gaius bow to the pressure?

There’s one more possible wrinkle to the story. In verse 9, John tells Gaius, “I wrote to the church, but Diotrephes, who loves to be first, will not welcome us” (NIV). When John says, “I wrote to the church,” is he referring to 2 John? Had the secessionists arrived at that congregation before John’s letter? Had Diotrephes already given them a hearing? Did 2 John therefore create an embarrassing situation for him? It’s a fascinating possibility, but there’s no way to know.

What we do know is that poor Gaius is being pulled in two opposite directions. Again, John’s letter is a deeply personal, passionate plea. In its tone and purpose, it reminds me a bit of Paul’s letter to Philemon, another missive in which an apostle wants to urge a dear friend to do the right thing. But both John and Paul avoid directly invoking their apostolic authority; they rely upon the persuasive influence of a close personal relationship rather than the power of their position.

Like I said, I’m not one to read someone else’s mail. But 3 John and Philemon are treasures that are a privilege to read, and we have a lot to learn from them. We’ll begin exploring 3 John more thoroughly in the next post.