Homily 1 — First Timothy 1, verses 1 to 4

“Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the command of God our Savior and the Lord Jesus Christ, who is our hope, to Timothy, my own son in the faith: Grace, mercy, and peace from God our Father and Jesus Christ our Lord.” [a]

Great and wonderful is the dignity of an apostle, and we find Paul constantly setting out the grounds of it — not as if he were taking the honor on himself, but as one entrusted with it and under the necessity of doing so.

When he speaks of himself as “called,” and “by the will of God,” and again elsewhere says, “Necessity is laid on me” (First Corinthians 9, verse 16), and when he says, “For this I was set apart,” these expressions remove every thought of arrogance and ambition. For just as the man who pushes his way into an office God has not given him deserves the severest blame, so the man who refuses it and shrinks back when it is offered to him incurs blame of another kind: the blame of rebellion and disobedience. That is why Paul, at the beginning of this letter, expresses himself this way: “Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the command of God.” Here he does not say “Paul, called,” but “by command.” He begins in this way so that Timothy would not be hurt in any merely human way, supposing that Paul was addressing him on the same terms as his other disciples. But where was this command given?

We read in the Acts of the Apostles: “The Spirit said, Set apart for me Paul and Barnabas” (Acts 13, verse 2). And everywhere in his writings Paul adds the name “apostle,” to teach his hearers not to regard the teachings he handed on as coming from a human being. For an apostle can say nothing of his own; by calling himself an apostle, he at once points his hearers to the one who sent him. That is why in all his letters he begins by taking this title, and so gives authority to his words, as here he says, “Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ according to the command of God our Savior.” [c]

Now it does not appear that the Father ever commanded him anywhere. It is always Christ who speaks to him. So: “He said to me, Go, for I will send you far away to the Gentiles” (Acts 22, verse 21); and again, “You must be brought before Caesar” (Acts 27, verse 24). But whatever the Son commands, Paul counts as the command of the Father, just as the commands of the Spirit are the commands of the Son. For he was sent by the Spirit, he was set apart by the Spirit, and this he calls the command of God. What then? Does it take anything away from the Son’s power that his apostle was sent out by the command of the Father?

Far from it! Notice how he shows that the power belongs to both in common. After saying, “according to the command of God our Savior,” he adds, “and the Lord Jesus Christ, our hope.” And notice how fittingly he applies the titles. Indeed, the Psalmist applies this title to the Father, saying, “The hope of all the ends of the earth” (Psalm 64, verse 5). And again the blessed Paul writes in another place, “For this is why we both labor and suffer reproach, because we have our hope set on the living God.” [d]

The teacher must face dangers even more than the disciple. “For I will strike the shepherd,” he says, “and the sheep will be scattered” (Zechariah 13, verse 7). That is why the devil rages with greater violence against teachers: when they are destroyed, the flock is scattered too. By killing a sheep he makes the flock smaller; but once he has done away with the shepherd, he has ruined the whole flock. So he attacks the shepherd all the more, since with less effort he does greater damage, and in one soul brings about the ruin of all.

For this reason Paul, right at the start, lifts up and encourages Timothy’s soul by saying, in effect: We have God for our Savior and Christ for our hope. We suffer much, but our hopes are great. We are exposed to traps and dangers, but the one who saves us is not a man but God. Our Savior is not weak, for he is God, and whatever our dangers are, they will not overcome us. Nor does our hope put us to shame, for it is Christ. For there are two ways we are enabled to hold out against dangers: either we are quickly rescued from them, or we are held up by good hopes while we are in them.

But Paul never calls himself the apostle of the Father, but always of Christ, because he treats everything as common to both. The good news itself he calls “the good news of God.” … The things of the present are as nothing. [e]

“To Timothy, my own son in the faith.”

This too is encouraging. For if Timothy showed such faith as to be called in a special way Paul’s “own” son, he could be confident about the future as well. For it belongs to faith not to be cast down or shaken, even when things happen that seem contrary to the promises.

But notice: he says “my son,” and even “my own son,” and yet Timothy is not of the same essence as Paul. What then? Was he of some kind without reason? Someone says: “Well, he was not born of Paul; so this does not imply being of another kind.” What then? Was he of another essence? That was not so either. For after saying “my own son,” he adds “in the faith,” to show that he really was his own son, and truly from him. There was no difference. The likeness he bore to Paul was a likeness in faith, just as in human births there is a likeness in essence. Among human beings the son is like the father; but with God the closeness is greater. For here a father and a son, though of the same essence, differ in many respects: in color, in shape, in understanding, in age, in cast of mind, in gifts of soul and body; and in many other things they may be alike or unlike. But in the divine being there is no such unlikeness.

“By command”: this is a stronger expression … He calls him “son” just as he says to the Corinthians, “In Christ Jesus I have begotten you” — that is, in faith. But he adds the word “own” to show Timothy’s particular likeness to himself, as well as his own love and great affection for him. Notice again the word “in,” applied to the faith: “My own son,” he says, “in the faith.” See what an honor this is: he calls him not only his “son,” but his “own” son.

Verse 2: “Grace, mercy, and peace from God our Father and Jesus Christ our Lord.” [h]

Why is mercy mentioned here and not in the other letters? This too is a mark of his affection. On his son he calls down greater blessings, with a parent’s anxious fear. Such was his anxiety that he gives Timothy directions — something he does in no other case — to look after his bodily health, where he says, “Use a little wine for the sake of your stomach and your frequent illnesses” (First Timothy 5, verse 23). Teachers, indeed, stand in greater need of mercy.

“From God our Father,” he says, “and Jesus Christ our Lord.” Here too is comfort. For if God is our Father, he cares for us as his sons, as Christ says: “Which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone?” (Matthew 7, verse 9).

Verse 3: “As I begged you to stay on at Ephesus when I went into Macedonia.”

Notice the gentleness of the expression, more like a servant’s than a master’s. He does not say “I commanded,” or “I ordered,” or even “I urged,” but “I begged you.” But this tone is not for everyone. Only gentle and virtuous disciples are to be treated this way. The corrupt and insincere are to be dealt with differently, as Paul himself directs elsewhere: “Rebuke them with all authority” (Titus 2, verse 15). And here he says “charge,” not “beg”: “that you might charge certain people not to teach any other doctrine.” What does this mean? That the letter Paul had sent them was not enough?

No, it was enough. But people sometimes tend to make light of letters; or perhaps this was before the letters were written. He had spent some time in that city himself. The temple of Artemis was there, and there he had been exposed to those great sufferings. For after the assembly in the theater had broken up, he called the disciples to him, encouraged them, and found he had to sail away — though afterward he came back to them. It would be worth asking whether he stationed Timothy there at that time. [i]

He says, “that you might charge certain people not to teach any other doctrine.” He does not name the people, so that his rebuke would not be so open that it made them more shameless.

There were in that city certain false apostles from among the Jews, who wanted to force the faithful to keep the Jewish law — a fault he attacks everywhere … in opposition to him. This is what is meant by “teaching another doctrine.”

Verse 4: “Nor to pay attention to myths and endless genealogies.”

By “myths” he does not mean the law — far from it — but inventions and forgeries and counterfeit teachings. For it seems the Jews wasted all their talk on these unprofitable matters … knowledge and research.

“That you might charge certain people,” he says, “not to teach any other doctrine, nor to pay attention to myths and endless genealogies.” Why does he call them “endless”? Because they had no end, or no useful end, or none easy for us to grasp. Notice how he disapproves of questioning. [l]

For where there is faith, there is no need of questioning. Where there is no room for curiosity, questions are superfluous. Questioning overturns faith. For the one who is seeking has not yet found; the one who is questioning cannot believe. That is why his advice is that we should not busy ourselves with questions; for if we question, it is not faith, since faith puts reasoning to rest.

Then why does Christ say, “Seek and you will find; knock and it will be opened to you” (Matthew 7, verse 7), and, “Search the Scriptures, for in them you think you have eternal life” (John 5, verse 39)? The seeking there means prayer and intense desire. And he tells us to “search the Scriptures” not to bring in the labor of questioning, but to end it: so that we may find out and settle their true meaning — not so that we may always be questioning, but so that we may be done with it.

And he rightly said, “Charge certain people not to teach any other doctrine, nor to pay attention to myths and endless genealogies, which promote questions rather than God’s plan of salvation, which is in faith.” Rightly has he … which is the best medicine for our souls. This questioning, then, is opposed to God’s plan of salvation. For what is given out through faith? To receive his mercies and become better people; to doubt and argue about nothing, but to rest in confidence.

For whatever “promotes questions” pushes out faith, and what faith has worked and built. Christ said that we must be saved by faith; these teachers questioned this, and even denied it. For since the announcement had been made, but its fulfillment lay in the future, faith was required. But they, taken up beforehand with the observances of the law, threw obstacles in the way of faith. [o]

He seems also to be glancing here at the Greeks, when he speaks of “myths and genealogies,” for they drew up lists of their gods.

So let us not pay attention to questions. For we were called the faithful so that we might believe without hesitation what has been handed down to us, and have no doubts. If the things stated were human, we would have to examine them; but since they are of God, they are only to be revered and believed. If we do not believe, how will we be persuaded that God exists at all? For how do you know there is a God, when you call him to account? We must believe him without proofs and demonstrations.

Even the Greeks know this. For they believed what their gods told them, as one of them says, even without proof. Told them what? That they were the offspring … And with their sorcerer — I mean Pythagoras — they acted in the same way; for of him it was said, “He said it.”

And over their temples stood an image of Silence, with her finger on her mouth, pressing her lips together and pointedly urging everyone who passed by to be silent. Were their teachings so sacred, and are ours less so — even something to be laughed at? What utter madness this is! [r]

The teachings of the Greeks are rightly questioned, for they were of that kind: nothing but disputes, battles of arguments, doubts, and conclusions. But ours are far from all these. Human wisdom invented theirs; ours were taught by the grace of the Spirit. Their teachings are madness and folly; ours are true wisdom. With them there is neither teacher nor pupil; all alike are debaters. Here, whether teacher or pupil, each is to learn from the one he ought to learn from, and not to doubt but to obey, not to argue but to believe. For all the people of old were commended through faith, and without it everything is overturned.

And why do I speak of faith in heavenly things? If we look into it, we will find that earthly things depend on it no less. Without it there would be no trade, no contracts, nothing of the kind. And if it is so necessary here, in things that are false, how much more in the things of heaven!

Let us pursue this, then, and hold fast to it; so we will drive out of our souls all destructive teachings — such as those about the horoscope and fate. If you believe that there is a resurrection and a judgment, you will be able to throw all those false opinions out of your mind. Believe that there is a just God, and you will not believe that there can be an unjust horoscope. Believe that there is a God and a providence, and you will not believe that there can be a horoscope that holds all things together. Believe that there is a place of punishment, and a kingdom, and you will not believe in a horoscope that takes away our freedom to choose and puts us under necessity and force. [s]

Then neither sow, nor plant, nor … according to the course of the horoscope! What further need have we of prayer? And what credit would you deserve for being a Christian, if there is such a horoscope? For then you will not be responsible. And where do the skills of life come from? Are these too from the horoscope? You say: “Yes, and it is fated for one person to become skilled by hard work.” But can you show me anyone who has learned a skill without hard work? You cannot. So it is not from the horoscope but from hard work that he gets his skill.

“But why does a corrupt and wicked man become rich, without inheriting it from his father?” That is the kind of question you raise, always arguing about wealth and poverty, and never taking up the case of vice and virtue. In this question, do not talk about that. Show me a man who has become bad while he was striving to be good, or one who has become good without striving. For if fate has any power, its power should be shown in the most important things — in vice and virtue, not in poverty and riches. [u]

Again you ask: Why is one person sickly and another healthy? Why is one honored and another disgraced? Why does everything go well for this man, while another meets with nothing but failure and obstacles? Lay aside the idea of the horoscope, and you will know. Believe firmly that there is a God and a providence, and all these things will become clear. You say: “But I cannot conceive that there is a providence, when good things go to the dishonest man and not to the virtuous. How can I believe this? There have to be facts to ground belief.” Well, then, do these cases come from a horoscope that is just, or unjust? “Unjust.” Then who made it? “Not God. It was uncreated.” But how can something uncreated produce such things? They contradict each other. “Then these things are in no way the works of God.” Shall we ask, then, who made the earth, the sea, the heavens, the seasons? “The horoscope.” Did the horoscope, then, produce such order and harmony in things without life, but so much disorder in us, for whose sake those things were made? It is as if someone building a house took care to make it magnificent, but gave no thought to his household. But who keeps up the succession of the seasons? Who established the regular laws of nature? Who appointed the courses of day and night? These things are beyond any horoscope. “But these came about of themselves.” And yet how could such a well-ordered system spring up of itself?

“But where do the rich, the healthy, and the famous come from? How is it that some become rich by greed, some by inheritance, some by violence? And why does God let the wicked prosper?” We answer: because the recompense each one deserves does not take place here, but is kept for hereafter. Show me anything like that taking place then! You say: “Well, give me what is here; I am not looking for hereafter.” But it is because you look for it here that you do not receive it. For if, when earthly enjoyment is out of your reach, you seek present things so eagerly as to prefer them to what is to come, what would you do if you had pleasure unmixed with anything else? So God shows you that these things are nothing, and of no consequence; for if they were of any consequence, he would not give them to such men. You will admit that it is of no consequence whether a person is tall or short, dark or fair; so it is with being rich or poor. [w]

For tell me, are not the necessary things given to all equally — the capacity for virtue, the distribution of spiritual gifts? If you rightly understood the mercies of God, you would not complain about lacking worldly things, when you enjoy these best gifts equally with others; and knowing that equal distribution, you would not want to be ahead in the rest. It is as if a servant, receiving food, clothing, lodging, and everything else he needs from his master’s generosity equally with his fellow servants, … It is for this reason that God takes these things away from us: to put out this madness and to transfer our affections from them to heaven. But even so we do not learn wisdom.

It is as if a child who had a toy preferred it to the things he needed, and his father, to lead him against his will to what was better for him, took the toy away. So God takes these things from us, to lead us to heaven.

If you ask, then, why he lets the wicked be rich: it is because they are not high in his regard. And if the righteous are rich too, it is rather that he allows it than that he makes them so. There are those who, when they could gain wealth, do not seek wealth; when they could enjoy health, subdue their bodies; when they could rise to glory, make it their aim to be despised. But there is no good man who ever made it his aim to be bad.

So let us stop seeking things below, and let us seek the things of heaven. For so we will be able to attain them, and we will enjoy eternal delights, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, be glory, power, and honor, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.