Five Signs of Assurance: A Prison Chaplain’s Guide to 1 John | Paul Whitehorn | Theologian, Scholar, and Evangelist


Five Signs of Assurance: A Prison Chaplain’s Guide to 1 John

A_prisoner_in_chains_with_his_back_turned_away_turning_into_an_angel_breaking_chains_and_flying_away_2086965536

 

 
 
Assurance Blogpost Assignment
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Paul Whitehorn
NBST845: General Epistles/Revelation
July 27, 2025


Five Signs of Assurance: A Prison Chaplain’s Guide to 1 John

As a prison chaplain, I deal with death every day. Just this week, one of our inmates died of a heart attack. The week before that, another collapsed from a seizure before breakfast and didn’t survive the flight to the hospital. This morning, I sat with a man who called his mother, only to realize she was too far gone to respond—she died before count cleared.[1] Just in the past month, I had to tell a man that his entire family, his wife and two baby daughters, were lost in a traffic accident. And that is only one of thousands of heartbreaking stories I’ve walked through, both inside the prison and outside it. Most folks talk about heaven like it’s a pleasant story at the end of a long book. But in here, eternity shows up uninvited and sits across from you while you’re still trying to hold down your breakfast. It doesn’t ask politely. It demands answers. And in that kind of world, assurance is no longer a luxury. It’s the one thing that keeps a man breathing. These men aren’t wrestling with debates about Calvinism or Arminianism. They’re asking if they’re right with God before their time runs out. They want to know if their seven-year-old daughters are in heaven, and if they’ll ever see them again. They want to know if being buried out here, in the dirt behind the Chapel, means their story ends in shame. They’ve changed, they’ve believed, they’ve wept at the altar before Christ, but they still fear that dying in prison will be slavery’s final word over them. That even in death, their dignity will be stripped away like everything else they lost. And I’ve found that the letter of 1 John offers real answers. It does not present vague hope but gives clear and solid signs that reveal when someone truly belongs to God.
Over the years, I’ve watched inmates move from fear to peace as they discover what 1 John wrote about assurance. And I believe that same peace is meant for all of us. Whether you’re reading this from a cell, a church pew, or your kitchen table, the truth is the same: God wants His people to know they are His. Not hope, not wonder—know. So in this blog, I want to walk with you through five signs drawn from 1 John that reveal what real assurance looks like. These are not things you perform to earn salvation; they are signs that show salvation has taken root. I’ve seen them bloom in the darkest corners of prison, and if they can grow there, they can grow wherever you are, too.

First: Assurance Through Admitting Sin (1 John 1:8–9)

The first sign of true assurance is the willingness to admit our failure and to seek God’s forgiveness. John plainly states that if we claim to be without sin, we are lying to ourselves and to God (1 John 1:8). That kind of denial shuts us off from the grace we need to be saved. John follows with a hope-filled promise: "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous, so that He will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9).[2] In simple terms, God does not need our confession to know the truth; we need it to stop lying to ourselves. In doing so, we come out of the dark and find that God was not waiting with a lecture but with open arms. While hiding the truth might feel easier at first, it actually blocks the healing that honest confession brings. As a prison chaplain, I’ve seen this principle proven over and over again. Many inmates deny their guilt, even when the evidence of their crimes is overwhelming. They lie to others and to themselves. They refuse to admit the wrong they have done. Instead, they blame their lawyers, the victims, or a broken legal system. They will do anything to avoid taking personal responsibility. Those men stay trapped, not only behind bars but in an inner prison of darkness. By contrast, the ones who begin to heal are those who finally stop the lies and speak the truth. When a man says, "I have sinned and I need mercy," something powerful happens. That moment of raw honesty is often the first ray of light breaking into a dark heart (1 John 1:7). In fact, taking responsibility for one’s actions is so powerful that even parole boards look for it. An inmate who takes responsibility for his actions has a much better chance of parole than one who stubbornly claims innocence, especially when it is clear he is not being truthful.
Is God not more just than a parole board? And are we not all guilty, deserving of judgment in an eternal prison for our sins (1 John 3:4)? If even flawed human institutions reward honesty and repentance, how much more will a holy and merciful God pardon those who confess their guilt and cry out for grace? Through His Son, God does not just reduce our sentence; He sets us free (1 John 4:9). In short, a heart that owns up to its guilt and reaches for God’s grace is a heart on the path to assurance. On the other hand, someone who hides or excuses their sin should have no confidence in attaining a place at God’s table in eternity.                                        

Second: Assurance By Loving God, Not the World (1 John 2:15–17)

The second sign of true assurance challenges us to examine what we love the most. John states very clearly that, “If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him” (1 John 2:15). Some inmates have misunderstood this and chosen to live like hermits, shutting themselves off from everyone around them. But this is not a call to reject the good things in God’s creation. Isolation doesn’t make someone holy before God. Rather, it is unholiness that comes from choosing false gods, even in secret, or chasing fleeting pleasures instead of the one true God. If prison has taught us anything, it is that separating people from society does not separate them from the lusts of the world. An inmate can cut off the noise around him and still be enslaved to pride, anger, or lust within. Only Christ can set the heart free. John defines “the world” as “the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life” (1 John 2:16). These are the cravings to satisfy our desires at any cost, to hoard what we see, and to boast in our achievements. These desires promise a lot but deliver emptiness in return; it’s just foolishness that fades away (1 John 2:17).
In the end, 1 John shows us that love for the world will drown out a man's love for God.
But when we love God first, the allure of this world collapses like a black hole into its own lies; the truth always reveals lasting satisfaction in God’s plan over our own. John reminds us that this world in its present form is passing away, "but the one who does the will of God continues to live forever" (1 John 2:17). Inside the prison, the world may have already passed away, and life shrinks to cramped rooms; but even then, temptation intensifies like steam in a pressure cooker. Our version of power turns into contraband; societal status morphs into gang loyalty; pleasure disguises itself as sexual dominance or anything that gets you high. I’ve seen inmates go to absurd lengths just for the slightest sense of feeling alive: even smoking insecticide‑soaked paper, called “touchie.” Inhaling these substances creates nerve damage, seizures, coma‑like states, and unfortunately even death. As foolish as this seems, we can be sure that heaven looks down on our love for the things of this world the same way we look at the foolishness of smoking insecticide.
Even so, I’ve watched inmates turn their backs on the very vices that once defined them. Stripped of every earthly comfort, they discover that God is enough when all else is taken away.
Their lives begin to reflect assurance that cannot be faked. But I have also seen the opposite. Some inmates continue to fantasize endlessly about the good life: the cars, the money, the old habits that led them to prison in the first place. They remain stuck, loving the very world that destroyed them, and in their hearts, God becomes an afterthought. John’s message speaks directly into both of these paths. He writes, “If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him” (1 John 2:15). We cannot love the world and still believe we are secure in God’s kingdom. If our hearts are consumed with career, comfort, or reputation more than with Christ, we are deceiving ourselves. But when we examine our lives and see, by God’s grace, that we desire Him more than any worldly prize, we can have confidence in our eternal reward (1 John 2:3). Whether we are free or incarcerated, the question remains: What do we love most? True faith knows what fool’s gold looks like (1 John 5:20). It rejects what is temporary and clings to what is eternal. As our grip on worldly ambition loosens and we take hold of God’s love, we gain something far more valuable than anything the world could offer: the assurance that we truly belong to Him (1 John 3:14; 4:16).

Third, Assurance Through Love, Not Hatred (1 John 4:20)

The third sign of true assurance is seen in how we treat one another, specifically through a lifestyle of Christ-like love rather than one of hatred. John puts it plainly: “If someone says, ‘I love God,’ and yet he hates his brother or sister, he is a liar” (1 John 4:20). In fact, John calls this hatred a kind of murder in the heart (1 John 3:15). The message is simple: you cannot walk in the light of God while holding hate for someone else in your heart. That is, love is not an optional virtue for a Christian; it is the visible proof that we know God. The kind of love John talks about (agape in Greek) is not mere sentiment or indulgence; it’s a self-giving, active goodwill that seeks what is best for others. According to leading biblical scholars, this kind of love is first and foremost a disposition of the heart, not merely an action.[3] That is, biblical love is not earned by the behavior of others (1 John 4:10). It flows from a heart that has been changed by God. Even if someone curses, mocks, or hurts us, the love we are called to reflect does not withhold mercy (1 John 4:11). It reaches out in hope (1 John 4:18). It means we begin to see others through God’s eyes, recognizing their value and the possibility of redemption, no matter how they treat us (1 John 4:7). Yet, love does not mean granting every request or failing to uphold firm and appropriate boundaries. True love is not permissiveness; it’s genuine care for the other person’s soul. Sometimes the most loving thing to do is to say “no” or to hold someone accountable for their own good. A parent who loves their child will discipline them, when necessary (1 John 3:1). In the same way, God’s love sometimes comes in the form of correction, and our love for others may also involve tough love.
John also presents love as a spiritual test: "Anyone who does not practice righteousness is not of God, nor the one who does not love his brother and sister" (1 John 3:10). A true believer may struggle with difficult people. We all do. But the general direction of their heart will lean toward compassion, forgiveness, and unity, not bitterness or revenge. If our life is characterized by constant hostility, grudges, and an unforgiving spirit, that’s a red light (1 John 3:14-15). John would say that persistent hatred shows a person is still “in darkness” and not born of God (1 John 2:9-11). If we are learning to forgive, to serve others even when it is hard, and to see even our enemies as loved by God, we can have assurance that we are truly saved.
 

Fourth: Assurance Through Loyalty to Christ Alone (1 John 2:22–23)

The fourth mark of true assurance is found in our loyalty to the real Jesus Christ as revealed in Scripture. It matters what we believe and confess about the Son of God. John warns that many Antichrists had already entered this world. These are false teachers who deny essential truths about Jesus. "Who is the liar except the one who denies that Jesus is the Christ," John writes, "This is the antichrist… Whoever denies the Son does not have the Father" (1 John 2:22–23). In plain terms, you cannot reject Jesus as the Messiah, God’s Son and our Savior, and still have a relationship with God. To deny Jesus’ identity or redefine Him into something He is not is no minor error; John says it aligns a person with the spirit of the Antichrist. True Christians, by contrast, will acknowledge the Son for who He truly is. They hold fast to the biblical Jesus, because in having the Son they also have the Father.
Prison is a spiritual marketplace of sorts: within these walls you’ll find every belief system you can imagine. Some dabble in strange doctrines or mix bits of many faiths, inventing a personal patchwork of beliefs. I’ve even had inmates earnestly tell me that Jesus was “just a prophet” or some other reduced version of who He truly is (cf. Qur’an 4:171; 5:75). They say that He was a great teacher or prophet but not the Son of God. Others consider Him a created being or one god among many (Jehovah’s Witnesses). Still others reduce Him to a mere enlightened guru. They may invoke Jesus’ name, but it’s not the Jesus of Scripture. According to John, this is the dividing line. If you don’t have the Son, you don’t have the Father. We can respect people of other beliefs, but we must not buy into the lie that one religion is as good as another or that we can reinvent Jesus to our liking. Such compromises may feel inclusive, but it’s a lie. According to John, true assurance can only exist when the heart confesses that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and the Savior of the world. If we deny Him, no amount of spirituality or religion can save us. As John declares, “the one who confesses the Son has the Father also" (1 John 2:23). If we hold firmly to the Apostolic teaching about who Jesus is, we remain anchored in the truth and secure in God's love.

Fifth, Assurance Through Obedient Living (1 John 2:4)

The fifth and final sign of true assurance is simply a life marked by obedience to God’s will. With absolute clarity, John states: “The one who says, ‘I have come to know Him,’ and does not keep His commandments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him” (1 John 2:4). If a person declares they walk with God yet walks in continual rebellion, they deceive themselves. That kind of assurance is no more real than a painted fire warming a frozen inmate; it may look the part, but it cannot save. Assurance thrives in the true flame that radiates obedience to obey Jesus Christ; not the other way around. This does not mean, however, that we never sin. Rather, it means that when we do, we do not make peace with our sin or decorate it with excuses— like gay female pastors. We grieve it. We turn from it. We confess it to the One who is faithful and righteous to forgive. The difference lies not in perfection, but in direction. The heart that truly knows God is one that longs to magnify Him, even while crawling along the narrow path. It does not boast of liberty while wearing the chains of rebellion. It hungers for righteousness, even when it falters in the pursuit. The soul that belongs to Christ cannot sit comfortably in disobedience; conviction will rise, repentance will follow, and over time, transformation will take root. This is how we know the Spirit is at work within us. Not by the absence of sin, but by the presence of a war against it. John has made it clear that we will sometimes fail and must confess our sins (1 John 1:9). Even so, Scripture teaches that a real relationship with Christ will inevitably lead to a change in behavior (1 John 2:29; 3:6). Together, these two competing ideas point toward the life of someone who loves God and strives to live according to His will, while also understanding that they must remain humbled by their failure to do so. In other words, to love Jesus is to obey Him; a life that ignores His teaching denies that love.
In prison, we even have a term for fake faith: "jailhouse religion." I've watched inmates carry Bibles and put on a show of faith when staff are around, but once they're back with the others, they lie to get whatever religion can get them. It’s all an act, usually to impress the parole board or to get the special religious dietary plan meals, and it falls apart under the slightest pressure. John’s blunt words exposes this charade: if someone says they know God but refuses to obey Him, they are living a lie (1 John 2:4). Jesus Himself warned that not everyone who says “Lord, Lord” will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only those who do the Father’s will (Matt. 7:21). We don’t obey God to earn salvation; we obey because we have salvation.

Conclusion

There can be no boldness before the throne of God for the man who hides his guilt, adores what is passing away, nurses grudges instead of grace, and dismisses the true Christ for a more convenient fiction. If you live in defiance of His Word, then you have every reason to tremble, for the Judge you will meet is not fooled by pious appearances or rehearsed excuses. Every person will one day stand before the ultimate Judge, but true Christians are marked by confidence rather than this fear, for "love is perfected with us, so that we may have confidence in the day of judgment" (1 John 4:17). This perfect love, John says, "casts out fear," replacing terror with assurance (1 John 4:18). Here in prison, everyone understands what it means to face some sort of judgment for the crimes that they have committed. Many inmates live each day in fear of receiving a disciplinary report or being sent to confinement and losing gain time.[4] But there is an eternal court date awaiting every soul: the day when each person will stand before a holy and righteous God. John’s letter prepares us for that day. It teaches that a true believer can look forward to it with a boldness the world cannot understand. This means that, the one who truly belongs to Christ no longer needs to live terrified of a future wrath; instead, he has a settled trust that the penalty for his sin has already been paid. The thought of eternity doesn’t fill him with panic; it fills him with joy and a longing to meet his Savior.
When you think about standing before God, what rises up in your heart? Is it a settled assurance born from faith in Christ, or is it a gnawing fear of punishment? If you have fled to Jesus, you have His promise that you “will not come into judgment.” You can echo John’s confidence and say, God’s love has given me courage for my final day. You can even pray, “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus,” knowing that to see Him will be your vindication, not your doom. But if you still live in rebellion, and merely hope that God will overlook your sin, then you have no real confidence. The fear you feel is actually a mercy, warning you that you are not ready. Friend, if that is you, do not ignore that warning. Flee to Christ while there is still time. Jesus Christ is the only advocate who can plead for you on judgment day (1 John 2:1). You too can face the day of judgment with confidence, not fear, because you have confessed your sins, loved God more than the world, practiced genuine love instead of hatred, remained loyal to the deity of Christ as proclaimed by the apostles, and lived a life of humble obedience to His commands. However, without Him, the Judge of all the earth will give you exactly what justice demands for your sin. That thought ought to make you tremble. But it need not remain so. Today, if you hear His voice, turn to Him. For those who belong to Jesus, judgment is not a day of dread, but the doorway to eternal joy.

Blog author title



Chaplain WHITEHORN
I'm honored to serve as the State Prison Chaplain at Avon Park Correctional Institution. My journey into ministry was deeply shaped by my military experience as a Combat Veteran Sergeant and later as an Officer in the U.S. Army. Alongside my military career, I've pursued a lifelong passion for theology and scholarship, beginning with a Bachelor’s Degree in Biblical Studies from Crichton College. I continued advanced studies at Mid-America Baptist Theological Seminary, earned a Master of Divinity from Liberty University, and I'm currently completing my Ph.D., driven by a desire to understand and faithfully communicate God’s Word.


About me

These theological reflections represent my current understanding and thoughts. I recognize that my beliefs are always subject to change as I continue to study and grow in God’s holy and precious Word. As a fallible human being, I am capable of change, and my views may evolve over time. Therefore, the positions expressed in these musings and papers may not necessarily reflect my final stance.

Support This Ministry

Earmark any and all donations to Avon Park Correctional


20 October, 2025

Developing A Trinitarian Open Theism


Go to Article