Observe that the order of clauses is reversed in the last part of the
text. The world cannot receive, because it does not know. The disciple
knows, because he receives. Possession and knowledge reciprocally
interchange places, and may be regarded as cause and effect of one
another. That is to say, at bottom they are one and the same thing.
Knowledge is possession, and possession is the only knowledge. These
disciples knew Christ in a fashion. He had just been telling them that
they did not know Him; but so far as they did dimly grasp Him, they saw
the Spirit—in another form, indeed, than they would hereafter see—but
still truly, though imperfectly. Beholding the Spirit, though 'through
a glass darkly,' and cherishing their partial possession of Him, they
will come to more, and steadfastly increase from the morning's twilight
to the midday glory. So He says: 'He dwelleth with you' now, and 'He
shall be _in_ you' hereafter. There is a better form of possession
opening before them, which came at Pentecost, and has lasted ever
since. From thenceforward we have a Spirit that not only stands by our
sides and holds fellowship with us (for the two 'withs' of our text are
two different words, expressing respectively proximity and communion),
but who actually dwells in the central depths of our natures, and whom
we thus possess more perfectly and blessedly than is possible to even
the closest outward proximity, and the sweetest outward fellowship.
That possession of an abiding and indwelling Spirit is the gift of
Christ to every Christian soul, and is to be found by us all upon the
path so plainly marked out in our text and its connections—'believe,'
'love,' 'obey.' Then the Dove of God will flutter down upon our heads
and nestle in our hearts, and brooding over the solemn and solitary sea
of our chaotic spirits, will bring up from it a new world glistening in
fresh order and beauty, and 'very good' in its Maker's eyes.