Homily 2 — First Timothy 1, verses 5 to 11

“Now the goal of the command is love from a pure heart, and from a good conscience, and from sincere faith. From these some have swerved and turned aside to empty talk. They want to be teachers of the law, understanding neither what they are saying nor what they affirm.” [a]

Nothing does the human race so much harm as to think little of friendship and not to cultivate it with the greatest care; just as, on the other hand, nothing does it so much good as to pursue friendship with all our strength. Christ has shown this where he says, “If two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by my Father” (Matthew 18, verse 19); and again, “Because lawlessness will abound, love will grow cold” (Matthew 24, verse 12). This is what has given rise to all the heresies. Because people did not love their brothers and sisters, they envied those who were highly regarded; from envying them they became hungry for power; and from the love of power they brought in heresies.

That is why Paul, having said, “that you might charge certain people not to teach any different doctrine,” now shows that the way this can be brought about is by love. When he says, “Christ is the end of the law” (Romans 10, verse 4), he means its fulfillment, and the one is bound up with the other; in the same way, this command is contained in love. The goal of medicine is health, but where there is health, there is no need for a great deal of fuss. So where there is love, there is no need for much commanding.

But what sort of love does he mean? Love that is sincere, that is not just in words but flows from a person’s disposition, from feeling and fellow feeling. “From a pure heart,” he says — meaning either an upright way of life or genuine affection. For an impure life also breeds divisions: “For everyone who does evil hates the light” (John 3, verse 20). There is indeed a kind of friendship even among the wicked. Robbers and murderers may love one another. But this is not “from a good conscience,” not “from a pure” but from an impure “heart,” not from “sincere faith” but from faith that is false and hypocritical. For faith points to the truth, and sincere faith produces love, which a person who truly believes in God cannot bear to lay aside.

Verse 6: “From these some have swerved and turned aside to empty talk.” [c]

He put it well when he said “swerved.” It takes skill to shoot straight and not wide of the mark; it takes the guidance of the Spirit. For there are many things that turn us aside from the right course, and we ought to look to one target only.

Verse 7: “They want to be teachers of the law.”

Here we see another cause of the evil: the love of power. That is why Christ said, “Do not be called Rabbi” (Matthew 23, verse 8); and the apostle again, “For not even they keep the law, but only so that they may boast in your flesh” (Galatians 6, verse 13). They want to be first, he means, and for that reason they disregard the truth.

“Understanding neither what they are saying nor what they affirm.”

Here he rebukes them because they do not know the goal and aim of the law, or how long it was meant to be in force. But if this came from ignorance, why is it counted a sin? Because it came about not only from their wanting to be teachers of the law, but from their not holding on to love. In fact their very ignorance arose from these causes. For when the soul gives itself over to the things of the flesh, the clearness of its sight is dimmed; falling away from love, it drops into quarreling, and the eye of the mind is blinded. For a person gripped by any craving for these passing things is drunk, so to speak, with passion, and cannot judge the truth fairly.

“Not knowing what they affirm.” [e]

It is likely that they talked about the law and dwelt at length on its purifications and its other bodily rites. So the apostle holds back from criticizing these — as being either nothing, or at best a shadow and outline of spiritual things — and goes about it in a more winning way: he praises the law. Here he calls the Ten Commandments “the law,” and by means of them he sets the rest aside. For if even these commands punish those who break them, and are of no use to us, much more the others.

Verses 8 and 9: “But we know that the law is good, if one uses it lawfully, knowing this, that the law is not made for a righteous man.”

The law, he seems to say, is good, and again, not good. What then? If someone does not use it lawfully, is it not good? No, even then it is good. What he means is this: if someone fulfills it in his actions — for that is what “using it lawfully” means here. But when people expound it in their words and neglect it in their deeds, that is using it unlawfully. Such a person does use it, but not to his own profit.

Another way may be named besides. What is it? That the law, if you use it rightly, sends you to Christ. For since its aim is to count a man righteous, and it fails to do this, it sends us on to him who can.

Again, another way of using the law lawfully is when we keep it, but as something we have no need of. And how as something we have no need of? The bridle is properly used not by the prancing horse that champs at it, but by the one that wears it only for show. In the same way, the one who uses the law lawfully is the one who governs himself, and not because he is forced to by its letter. He uses the law lawfully who knows that he does not need it. For someone already so virtuous that he fulfills it not from fear of it but from a principle of virtue uses it lawfully and safely — that is, if he uses it not because he is afraid of it, but with the condemnation of his own conscience before his eyes rather than the punishment to come.

Moreover, he calls “righteous” the man who has attained virtue. So he uses the law lawfully who does not need to be taught by it. Reading marks are set before children; but someone who does what they direct without their help, from knowledge he has gained elsewhere, shows more skill and is the better reader. In the same way, the person who is above the law is not under the law’s schooling. For he keeps it far more fully who fulfills it not from fear but from a virtuous inclination, since the one who fears punishment does not fulfill it in the same way as the one who aims at a reward. The person under the law does not do it as the person above the law does. For to live above the law is to use it lawfully. He uses it lawfully, and keeps it, who achieves things beyond the law and does not need its instructions.

For the law, for the most part, forbids what is evil; but this alone does not make a man righteous — he must also do what is good. So those who keep away from evil the way slaves do fall short of the mark of the law. For it was appointed to punish wrongdoing. Such people do use it, but they use it to dread its punishment. Scripture says, “Do you want to have no fear of the authority? Do what is good” (Romans 13, verse 3). This shows that the law threatens punishment only to the wicked. But what use is the law to someone whose actions deserve a crown? It is like a doctor, who is of use only to someone who has an injury, and not to the sound and healthy.

“But for the lawless and disobedient, for the ungodly and for sinners.” He calls the Jews “lawless and disobedient” too. “The law,” he says, “brings about wrath” — that is, for evildoers. But what of the one who deserves a reward? “Through the law comes the knowledge of sin” (Romans 3, verse 20). What, then, of the righteous? “The law is not made,” he says, “for a righteous man.” Why? Because he is exempt from its punishment, and he does not wait to learn from it what his duty is, since he has the grace of the Spirit within him to guide him. For the law was given so that people might be corrected by fear of its threats. But a well-trained horse does not need the curb, and a man who can do without instruction does not need the schoolmaster.

“But for the lawless and disobedient, for the ungodly and for sinners, for the unholy and profane, for those who murder their fathers and those who murder their mothers.” So he does not stop at mentioning sins in general, or these only, but goes through the different kinds of sin, to make people ashamed, as it were, of being under the law’s direction. And having named some in particular, he adds a reference to those he left out, although what he had listed was enough to draw people away. [f]

Of whom, then, does he say these things? Of the Jews. For they were “murderers of fathers and murderers of mothers”; they were “profane and unholy” — for these too are the people he means when he says “the ungodly and sinners” — and since they were such, the law was necessarily given to them. Did they not worship idols again and again? Did they not stone Moses? Were their hands not stained with the blood of their own kin? Do the prophets not accuse them of these things constantly? But for those who are trained in a heavenly philosophy, these commands are unnecessary.

“For those who murder their fathers and those who murder their mothers, for killers, for the sexually immoral, for men who lie with men, for kidnappers, for liars, for those who perjure themselves, and for anything else that is contrary to sound doctrine.” For all the things he had named were passions of a corrupted soul, and therefore contrary to sound doctrine.

Verse 11: “According to the glorious good news of the blessed God, which was entrusted to me.” [i]

So the law is still needed to confirm the good news, and yet for those who obey, it is unnecessary. He calls the good news “glorious.” There were some who were ashamed of its persecutions and of Christ’s sufferings; so for their sake, as well as for others, he has called it “the glorious good news,” showing that Christ’s sufferings are our glory. And perhaps he is also pointing to the future. For if our present condition is exposed to shame and insult, it will not be so hereafter; and it is to things to come, not to things present, that the good news belongs. Why then did the angel say, “Look, I bring you good news of great joy, for to you is born a Savior”? (Luke 2, verse 10.) Because he was born to be their Savior, though his miracles did not begin at his birth.

“According to the good news,” he says, “of the blessed God.” The glory he means is either the glory of serving God, or else this: that if present things are filled with its glory, things to come will be much more so — when “his enemies are put under his feet” (First Corinthians 15, verse 25), when nothing will stand in opposition, when the righteous will see all those blessed things which “eye has not seen, nor ear heard, and which have not entered into the human heart” (First Corinthians 2, verse 9). “For I want,” says our Savior, “those also to be with me where I am, so that they may see my glory, which you have given me” (John 17, verse 24).

So let us learn who these are, and let us count them blessed, thinking what happiness they will enjoy then, what light and glory they will share in. The glory of this world is worthless and does not last; or if it lasts, it lasts only until death, and after that it is completely snuffed out. For “his glory,” Scripture says, “will not go down after him” (Psalm 49, verse 17). And for many it does not last even to the end of life. But nothing like this is to be thought of with that glory. It remains, and it will have no end. For such are the things of God: they endure, and they are above all change and all ending. [j]

For the glory of that state does not come from outside but from within. I mean, it does not consist in a crowd of servants or of chariots, or in costly clothes. Apart from all these things, the man himself is clothed with glory. Here, without these things, a man appears naked. In the baths we see the famous, the obscure and the lowly all alike bare. Great men have often found themselves in danger in public when on some occasion their servants had left them. But in that world people carry their glory about with them, and the saints, like the angels, have their glory in themselves wherever they appear. Or rather, just as the sun needs no clothing and requires no help from outside, but wherever it appears its glory shines out at once, so it will be then.

So let us pursue that glory, than which nothing is more worthy of honor, and leave the glory of the world as utterly worthless. “Do not boast of your clothing and dress” (Sirach 11, verse 4). This was the advice given long ago to the simple. In fact the dancer, the prostitute and the actor are dressed in brighter and more costly robes than you. And besides, this boasting would be about something that, if moths so much as attack it, can rob you of all your pleasure in it. Do you see how unstable a thing it is, this glory of the present life? You pride yourself on what insects make and destroy. For insects from India, it is said, spin the fine threads your robes are made of. [k]

Look instead for a clothing woven from above, a wonderful and radiant garment, a robe of real gold — of gold not dug out of the mine by the hands of criminals, but the produce of virtue. Let us clothe ourselves with a robe that is not the work of poor men or slaves, but was made by our Lord himself.

But you say: “My garments are woven through with gold!” And what is that to you? It is the one who made it, not the one who wears it, who is admired, for that is where admiration is really due. At the fuller’s it is not the frame the garment is stretched on that people admire, but the one who made the garment. Yet the frame wears it and has it bound onto itself. And just as the frame wears it, but not for use, so do some of these women: they wear it for the garment’s sake — to air it, they say, so that it will not get moth-eaten!

Is it not the height of folly to be anxious about something so worthless — to do anything at all for it, to put your salvation at risk for it, to laugh at hell, to defy God, to pass by Christ when he is hungry? Do not talk to me of the precious spices of India, Arabia and Persia, the moist and the dry, the perfumes and ointments, so costly and so useless. Why, woman, do you lavish perfumes on a body full of filth within? Why spend money on what is foul, as though someone were to waste perfumes on dirt, or pour balsam on a brick?

There is, if you want it, a precious ointment and a fragrance with which you could anoint your soul — not brought from Arabia or Ethiopia or Persia, but from heaven itself; bought not with gold, but with a virtuous will and with sincere faith. Buy this perfume, whose scent can fill the world. It was of this that the apostles were fragrant. “For we are,” he says, “a sweet aroma, to some of death, to others of life” (Second Corinthians 2, verses 15 and 16). And what does this mean? That it is just as people say — that pigs are suffocated by perfume!

But this spiritual fragrance scented not only the apostles’ bodies but their clothes as well; and Paul’s clothes were so filled with it that they drove out demons. What aromatic leaf, what cassia, what myrrh is as sweet or as powerful as this perfume? If it put demons to flight, what could it not do? Let us supply ourselves with this ointment. The grace of the Spirit will provide it by means of almsgiving. It is of these that we will be fragrant when we go into the other world.

Here, a person scented with sweet perfumes draws everyone’s attention to himself; whether at the baths or at a public gathering or in any other crowd, everyone follows him and watches him. In the same way, in that world, when souls arrive fragrant with this spiritual aroma, all rise and make room. Even here, demons and every vice are afraid to come near it and cannot bear it, for it chokes them.

So let us not carry about on us the perfume that is a mark of effeminacy, but this one, which is a mark of manhood, which is truly admirable, which fills us with a holy confidence. This is a spice that is not the produce of the earth but springs from virtue; it does not wither but blooms forever. This is what makes those who have it honored. With this we are anointed at our baptism, and then we are fragrant with it; but it must be by our own care afterward that we keep its fragrance. In the old days the priests were anointed with ointment, as a sign of the virtue whose fragrance a priest ought to spread around him.

But nothing is more offensive than the stench of sin. That is what made the psalmist say, “My wounds stink and are rotten” (Psalm 38, verse 5). For sin is fouler than decay itself. What, for instance, is more offensive than sexual immorality? And if this is not noticed at the time it is committed, yet after it is done its offensiveness is noticed — the impurity contracted in it, and the curse, and the abomination of it. So it is with all sin. Before it is committed it has something of pleasure in it; but once it is done, the pleasure stops and fades away, and pain and shame take its place. With righteousness it is the reverse. At the beginning it brings toil, but in the end pleasure and rest. Yet even here, just as in the one case the pleasure of sin is no pleasure because of the expectation of disgrace and punishment, so in the other the toil is not felt as toil because of the hope of reward. [p]

And what is the pleasure of drunkenness? The poor gratification of drinking — and hardly even that. For when numbness follows, and the man sees nothing in front of him and is in a worse state than a madman, what enjoyment is left? In fact, one might well say there is no pleasure even in sexual immorality itself. For when passion has robbed the soul of its judgment, can there be any real delight? We might as well call the itch a pleasure! I would call it true pleasure when the soul is not stirred by passion, not shaken or overpowered by the body. For what pleasure can there be in grinding the teeth, rolling the eyes, being worked up and inflamed beyond all decency? So far is it from being pleasant that people hurry to get away from it, and when it is over they are in pain. If it were pleasure, they would want not to escape from it but to prolong it. So it has only the name of pleasure.

But the pleasures we enjoy are not like that. They are truly delightful; they do not agitate or inflame. They leave the soul free, and cheer it and open it wide. Such was Paul’s pleasure when he said, “In this I rejoice, yes, and I will rejoice”; and again, “Rejoice in the Lord always” (Philippians 1, verse 18, and 4, verse 4). Sinful pleasure brings shame and condemnation with it; it is indulged in secret, and it brings endless uneasiness. But true pleasure is free of all these. So let us pursue this pleasure, so that we may attain the good things to come, through the grace and mercy 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. [q]