Heard, seen, looked at, touched. It's emphatic repetition. Thankfully, he didn't mention taste, but all the relevant senses are covered. John is emphasizing the physicality of Jesus because it had become a controversy. An increasing number of Greeks had joined the church, and they had brought a deep intuition with them: our bodies are bad and our spirits are good. While they liked Jesus, they couldn't make sense of God—ultimate Spirit—debasing himself by sweating and bleeding. So they started to say that Jesus "seemed" to have a body. His body was like a costume he wore, but not part of his identity. Their influence is resurgent again. Now, we experience life as infinitely malleable. We search YouTube to find our preferred worship service, listen to customized Spotify playlists for a spiritual vibe, and talk to Jesus AI to get comforting inspiration. It's how I feel that's real. I'm spiritual, but not religious. Even our bodies can be molded like plastic, or injected with supplements, to manufacture any shape we want. But in both John's day and ours, a spiritual Jesus costs you friendships. The recipients of 1 John knew the heartbreak of former friends who walked out when the apostles insisted they'd met Jesus, and he was truly, fully human. His body got hungry and tired, it hung on the cross, and he walked out of the tomb. Today, we know the heartbreak of never meeting each other at all. Few draw the connection between a vague spirituality and disposable relationships. But this is why John writes. He's clarifying that God revealed life to his disciples by showing up in the flesh. So he gives the same message to his friends. When we have fellowship with the Father, the Son, and the Spirit, then we have fellowship with each other. Jesus came all the way to be with us. When we receive that gift, we will be with each other, too.