“Having many things to write to you, I did not wish to do so with paper and ink, but I hope to come to you and speak face to face, that our joy may be full” (2 John 1:12).

The epistles of 2 and 3 John are curiously short, each occupying less than a page in our Bibles. In both letters, the apostle gives warm greetings, a few exhortations and encouragements, and quickly concludes by saying that, even though there is more on his mind, he will save those things for a future conversation.

What are we to make of this? It seems to be a rare instance in which we can find valuable lessons from things that were never written.

“Having many things to write to you…”

What things? We will never know, but they must have been important enough or personal enough that the apostle felt they would be best said in person. Maybe he intended to address a sensitive problem, give a loving rebuke, or offer a personal encouragement. Paul does not seem to hesitate to do such things in writing, but it’s almost always in the context of a previous or upcoming personal visit to his audience. The apostolic letters are God’s Word to the church for all time, but they were just one part of the very personal ministry of the apostles to the early church. There were still some things that John felt should be said in person rather than in a letter (even an inspired one).

In an age that seems dominated by instant and easy communication, we need to be reminded that some things still need to be said face to face. We can only guess at the “many things” John had in mind, but we can be certain that they were matters of spiritual and personal significance that would shape the relationships he had with them—things too important to be misunderstood. Such things require all the subtleties of a personal presence to be fittingly communicated—the tone of voice, the expression of the face, and the body language that conveys the fruit of the Spirit in an unspoken way. Even just being present says you matter to me in a way that those words on a page fall short of communicating.

“I did not wish to do so with paper and ink…”

Letter writing is a lost art today, but my wife is an expert. We dated long-distance, before the advent of public internet and cell phones, and back in the days when long-distance calls cost an arm and a leg. So, we wrote letters—lots of them. She had a wonderful way with the written word. She could make me laugh and cry at the same time, and even her handwriting exuded that personality I love. For my part, I struggled to commit my thoughts to writing, fearful of not phrasing things just right, and the trash can in my dorm room was usually filled with first drafts. As much as we enjoy looking back through those old letters, they were still just placeholders until the next time we could have a real conversation (from the Latin conversari, “to keep company with”).

A letter can be a poignant thing, if that’s the best recourse you have, but the apostle knew that the medium must be thoughtfully matched to the message. We run certain risks when the personal elements of communication, like tone of voice, expressions, gestures, and body language are removed from the equation. The written word of God is perfect and perspicuous (clear), but we can count on neither of those qualities when we write.

Letter-writing at least makes you slow down and think. Texts, emails, and social media posts tend to be hasty things that we don’t always take the time to season with salt (Col. 4:6). These are well-suited to everyday matters (Can you pick up the kids at 7?) and working necessities (Can you send me that spreadsheet?). But when there is really something to say, there are better ways to broach the subject than having it appear in someone’s inbox sandwiched between “Hurry in for our President’s Day sale!” and “Look at this funny puppy video!” When we venture into more important matters of ministry, relationships, disagreements—matters of the heart and of the Spirit—we need to slow down, think, pray, and always second-guess ourselves before hitting the send button. Ask me how I know. What we may think is a straightforward matter can go sideways quickly. It is too easy to write with good intentions only to be misunderstood, or to hastily write something hurtful and be understood perfectly. These are the risks we run when we commit matters of the heart and Spirit to writing; but thankfully there’s a better way.

“I hope to come to you and speak face to face…”

John was writing “to the elect lady and her children,” and wherever they were, it would not be a convenient journey for the aging apostle. But that was his intention, “to come to you,” because he loved them in truth (v. 1), and love is not balanced on conveniences. It’s certainly easier to write; in our world it’s almost too easy to dash off a text or an email and not have to bother with the logistics of meeting personally with someone. But when dealing with matters of the heart and Spirit, it is certainly worth the effort. It makes good relationships even stronger, and when there is tension or conflict, a gentle presence is very disarming. The sinful caricatures of others we may carry in our minds tend to disappear when meeting in person. What we might otherwise be tempted to type while looking at a computer screen will take on a very different character when we look across the table at the face of another person made in the image of God. It is a matter of accountability. Everything is personal if you are a person.

“Face to face” is a beautiful expression that pictures intimate, personal communication. It is the way that God spoke to Moses (Num. 12:8), and the way that we will commune with God in glory (1 Cor. 13:12). While it still remains for us to fully comprehend the wonder of such face-to-face fellowship with the Lord, we experience just a bit of that blessing when face to face with other believers, when the love of Christ is mediated through the love of His people.

Some time ago, I met with a friend of mine at his request. He is a younger man that I suppose I mentored in some ways, and even though I knew we had things to discuss, I anticipated more “catching up” than anything. As the meeting unfolded, it became clear that he meant to challenge me, and, before long, I realized I was being admonished. At first, I was surprised and even felt a bit defensive, but his compassion, sincerity, and love completely disarmed and humbled me. I took his admonishment deeply to heart, and my respect for him increased a hundredfold. It was 2 John 1:12 in action, and I was blessed by his wisdom to speak face to face. I can only guess how the whole matter would have gone if he had decided to write an email instead.

“That our joy may be full.”

There are many good reasons to write texts and emails every day, but fullness of joy is not one of them. This blessing is reserved for the face-to-face fellowship of the saints, where the fruits of the Spirit take on all the hues of the individual personalities of the people for whom Christ died. Only in the presence of God is there true “fullness of joy” (Ps. 16:11), but there is an earthly joy like no other when brothers dwell together in unity (Ps. 133:1). Because we are still sinners, not every personal encounter will strengthen a relationship or solve a problem the way we might hope, but we owe it to each other in Christ to seek this full joy that John writes about. So, when dealing with other believers on matters of the heart and Spirit, make it your first instinct to do it face to face, and with the prayer and purpose that the end result will be nothing less than full joy.