2 John

From the Beginning: Walking in Love and Truth in 2 John

As we sat with 2 John—just a short letter tucked near the end of our Bibles—we were surprised by how much depth rises out of just a handful of verses. Especially verses five and six. As we read them aloud, we felt something lift in us—something the Holy Spirit nudged forward: “From the beginning.” Those three words echoed again and again.

But before we even moved into the message itself, we had to pause at John’s greeting: “To the chosen lady.” At first glance, that can feel confusing. Are we talking about an actual woman? A church? A metaphor? We’ve learned there are two major views—either John is writing to a literal woman or he’s using feminine language to address an early church community. If we had to choose, we’d land on the second. It feels fitting that he’s speaking to a church family and their “children,” the believers who gather there.

And honestly, that helps. Because if we’re reading this at 5:30 in the morning around the kitchen table, “chosen lady” can raise more questions than answers. But once we understand the context, the real heart of the letter becomes beautifully clear.

The Same Command From the Beginning: Walk in Love

What struck us most was the repetition. John keeps bringing us back to what we’ve known all along—from the beginning. Not just in this letter, but also in 1 John 2:7–9 and verse 24. The message hasn’t changed. The gospel hasn’t shifted. The call has never been updated or revised or redesigned.

And that encourages us. Because we’re forgetful people. We drift. We get distracted. We chase what feels new or exciting. And here John simply says, “Walk in love.” That’s it.

From the beginning, this has been God’s heart. Love God. Love one another. Live in obedience that flows from love. And God—unchanging, steady, and faithful—walks with us as we do.

Sometimes we just need the reminder.

Truth Matters: When the World Moves the Goalposts

Before long, John shifts from love to truth—because the two can’t be separated. Walking in love requires walking in truth. And that’s where our culture pushes back the hardest.

As we talked, we realized how relevant John’s concern is. Today’s world loves the mantra: “What’s true for you is true for you, and what’s true for me is true for me.” But that simply isn’t how reality works. If we each decide what red, yellow, and green lights mean, the result isn’t freedom—it’s disaster.

Truth by definition must be fixed, not flexible. Even the statement “There are no absolute truths” is an absolute truth claim. It folds under its own weight.

We’ve been reading Norman Geisler’s apologetics book I Don’t Have Enough Faith to Be an Atheist, and it’s been stretching us. It highlights how many modern philosophies crumble once you flip them around—like the Roadrunner cartoons where Wile E. Coyote ends up crushed by his own trap. When we take the logic of relativism and apply it to itself, it collapses.

And the confusion only deepens when we assume all religions teach the same thing. They don’t. Their teachings about God, salvation, evil, eternity—these are radically different. If everything is “true,” nothing actually is.

John understood this tension well. Even in the early church, people were already shifting definitions. That’s why he keeps emphasizing truth, truth, truth. When love loses truth, it sinks into sentimentality. When truth loses love, it becomes harsh and brittle. We need both.

Why Jesus Had to Come in the Flesh

The specific truth under attack in 2 John was the nature of Jesus Himself. A group called the Docetists taught that Jesus wasn’t truly human—that He only seemed to be. John pushes back hard: “Many deceivers… do not confess the coming of Jesus Christ in the flesh.” (v. 7)

So why does this matter so much?

Because everything rests on who Jesus is.
He had to be fully God—pure, spotless, holy—to offer a perfect sacrifice for sin.
He had to be fully human—to represent us, stand in our place, and heal what we broke.

And beyond theology, this matters deeply to our daily lives. Jesus knows what it’s like to be human. He’s felt betrayal, loneliness, loss, exhaustion, temptation, grief. He intercedes for us as One who truly understands our struggle. That’s not theory—that’s comfort.

So when John calls us to hold fast to truth, he’s not inviting us into cold intellectualism. He’s calling us to cling to the real Jesus—the One who loves us, saves us, and walks with us.

From the Beginning… and Still True Today

As we wrapped our conversation, we kept returning to those words: from the beginning.

John isn’t giving us anything new. God hasn’t changed. Truth hasn’t changed. Love hasn’t changed. And the lies of the world? They’re not new either. Humanity has tried redefining truth and reshaping God since the dawn of time—and it always leads to pain.

But the gospel remains. The call remains. The invitation remains.