Homily 3 — First Timothy 1, verses 12 to 14

“And I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who enabled me, because he counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry — I who was before a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and an insolent man. But I obtained mercy, because I did it ignorantly, in unbelief. And the grace of our Lord abounded exceedingly, with faith and love which is in Christ Jesus.” [a]

Everyone agrees on the advantages that come from humility, and yet it is not an easy thing to find. There is plenty of humble-sounding talk, more than enough and to spare, but humbleness of mind is nowhere to be found. Blessed Paul cultivated this quality so carefully that he is always on the lookout for reasons to be humble. People who know they have great merits must struggle hard with themselves if they are to be humble. And he too was a man likely to be under violent temptations of this kind, since his own good conscience was swelling him up like a gathering abscess.

So notice his method in this place. “I was entrusted,” he had said, “with the glorious good news of God, and those who still cling to the law have no right to share in it. For the law is now set against the good news, and the difference between them is such that those who are moved by the one are not yet worthy to share in the other — just as we would say that people who need punishments and chains have no right to be admitted into the company of philosophers.” So, being full of lofty thoughts and having used grand expressions, he at once lowers himself, and leads others to do the same.

Having said, then, that “the good news was entrusted to him,” he checks himself at once, so that this would not seem to be said out of pride, and adds by way of correction, “I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who enabled me, because he counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry.” So everywhere, you see, he hides his own merit and credits everything to God — yet only so far as not to do away with free will. For the unbeliever might perhaps say: “If everything comes from God, and we contribute nothing of our own, while he turns us from wickedness to the love of wisdom as if we were mere wood and stone, then why did he make Paul what he was, and not Judas?” To remove this objection, notice how carefully he words it. “Which was entrusted,” he says, “to me.” This was his own excellence and merit, but not wholly his own; for he says, “I thank Christ Jesus, who enabled me.” That is God’s part. Then his own part again: “Because he counted me faithful.” Surely that was because he would prove useful by his own effort.

Verse 13: “Putting me into his service — I who was before a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and an insolent man; but I obtained mercy, because I did it ignorantly, in unbelief.” [e]

So we see him acknowledge both his own part and God’s. And while he credits the greater part to God’s providence, he plays down his own — yet only so far, as we said before, as fits with free will.

And what does “who enabled me” mean? I will tell you. He had so heavy a burden to carry that he needed much help from above. Think what it was to be exposed every day to insults and mockery, plots and dangers, jeers and abuse and deaths — and not to lose heart, or slip, or turn back, but, though attacked every day with countless arrows, to bear up like a man and stay firm and unshaken. This was the work of no human power; and yet not of God’s influence alone, but of his own resolve as well. For that Christ chose him knowing beforehand what he would be is plain from the testimony he gave about him before his preaching began: “He is a chosen vessel of mine, to carry my name before the Gentiles and kings” (Acts 9, verse 15).

For those who carry the royal standard in war need both strength and skill, so that they do not let it fall into the enemy’s hands. In the same way, those who carry the name of Christ, not only in war but in peace, need great strength to keep it unharmed from the attacks of its accusers. Great indeed is the strength needed to carry the name of Christ and to carry it well, and to bear the cross. For whoever does anything unworthy of Christ, in action or word or thought, is not carrying his name and does not have Christ living in him. But the one who carries that name carries it in a triumphal procession — not through a crowd of people, but through the heavens themselves, while all the angels stand in awe, and escort him, and admire him.

“I thank the Lord, who enabled me.” Notice how he thanks God even for what was his own part. He acknowledges it as a favor from God that he was “a chosen vessel.” For this, blessed Paul, was your own part, since “God shows no partiality.” “But I thank him that he ‘thought me worthy of this ministry,’ for this is proof that he considered me faithful.” A steward in a household is not only thankful to his master for being trusted, but also takes it as a sign that his master considers him more faithful than the others. So it is here. [f]

Then notice how he magnifies God’s mercy and love for humankind by describing his former life: “I who was before,” he says, “a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and an insolent man.” When he speaks of the Jews who still do not believe, he rather plays down their guilt: “For I bear them witness that they have a zeal for God, but not according to knowledge” (Romans 10, verse 2). But of himself he says, “I who was a blasphemer and a persecutor.” See how he lowers himself! He was so free of self-love, so full of humility, that he is not content to call himself a persecutor and a blasphemer, but heightens his guilt. He shows that it did not stop with himself. It was not enough for him to be a blasphemer; in the madness of his blasphemy he persecuted those who wanted to live godly lives.

“But I obtained mercy, because I did it ignorantly, in unbelief.” [g]

Why, then, did other Jews not obtain mercy? Because what they did, they did not do in ignorance, but willfully, knowing full well what they were doing. For this we have the testimony of the evangelist: “Many of the Jews believed in him, but because of the Pharisees they did not confess him; for they loved the praise of people more than the praise of God” (John 12, verses 42 and 43). And again Christ said to them, “How can you believe, when you receive honor from one another?” (John 5, verse 44). And the parents of the blind man “said these things for fear of the Jews, so that they would not be put out of the synagogue” (John 9, verse 22). The Jews themselves even said, “Do you see how we are getting nowhere? Look, the world has gone after him” (John 12, verse 19). So their love of power stood in their way at every turn. When they had admitted that no one can forgive sins but God alone, and Christ at once did that very thing which they had confessed to be a sign of divinity, this could not have been a case of ignorance.

But where was Paul at that time? Perhaps one might say that he was sitting at the feet of Gamaliel and took no part with the crowd who plotted against Jesus; for Gamaliel does not seem to have been an ambitious man. Then how is it that Paul was later found joining the crowd? He saw the teaching growing, on the point of winning out and being taken up by everyone. For during Christ’s lifetime the disciples kept company with him, and afterward with their teachers; but when they had been completely separated, Paul did not act as the other Jews did, out of love of power, but out of zeal. For what was the reason for his journey to Damascus? He thought the teaching harmful, and was afraid that the preaching of it would spread everywhere. But with the Jews it was not concern for the people but love of power that drove what they did. That is why they say, “The Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation” (John 11, verse 48). What fear was this that was stirring them, if not the fear of man?

But it is worth asking how someone as skilled in the law as Paul could have been ignorant. For he is the one who says, “which he promised beforehand through his holy prophets” (Romans 1, verse 2). How is it, then, that you did not know — you who were zealous for the law of your fathers, who were brought up at the feet of Gamaliel? Men who spent their days on lakes and rivers, and even the tax collectors, embraced the good news, while you, who studied the law, were persecuting it! This is why he condemns himself, saying, “I am not fit to be called an apostle” (First Corinthians 15, verse 9). This is why he confesses his ignorance, an ignorance that came from unbelief. For this reason, he says, he obtained “mercy.”

What, then, does he mean when he says, “He counted me faithful”? He would not give up any of his Master’s rights. Even his own part he credited to him, took nothing to himself, and did not claim as his own the glory that was due to God. That is why in another place we find him crying out, “Men, why are you doing these things? We too are human beings with the same nature as you” (Acts 14, verse 15). So again: “He counted me faithful.” And again: “I labored more abundantly than all of them — yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me” (First Corinthians 15, verse 10). And again: “It is he who works in us both to will and to do” (Philippians 2, verse 13).

So in acknowledging that he “obtained mercy,” he admits that he deserved punishment, since mercy is for people like that. And again, in another place he says of the Jews, “Blindness in part has come upon Israel” (Romans 11, verse 25). [k]

Verse 14: “And the grace of our Lord abounded exceedingly, with faith and love which is in Christ Jesus.”

This is added so that, when we hear that he obtained mercy, we would not take it to mean only that he deserved punishment as a persecutor and blasphemer and yet was not punished. Mercy was not limited to this, that punishment was not inflicted; many other great favors are included in it. For God has not only released us from the punishment hanging over us, but has also made us “righteous,” and “sons,” and “brothers,” and “heirs,” and “fellow heirs.” That is why he says that “grace abounded exceedingly.” The gifts given went beyond mercy, since they are not such as would come from mercy alone, but from affection and overflowing love.

Having dwelt this fully on the love of God — which was not content to show mercy to a blasphemer and persecutor, but gave him other blessings in abundance — he guards against the error of the unbelievers that does away with free will, by adding, “with faith and love which is in Christ Jesus.” This much only, he says, did we contribute: we believed that he is able to save us.

So let us love God through Christ. What does “through Christ” mean? That it is he, and not the law, who has made us able to do this. Notice what blessings we owe to Christ, and what we owe to the law. And he does not say merely that grace abounded, but that it “abounded exceedingly,” bringing those who deserved endless punishment straight into adoption. And notice again that “in” is used for “through.” [l]

For not only faith is necessary, but love. There are still many who believe that Christ is God, and yet do not love him, and do not act like people who love him. For how can they, when they put everything ahead of him — money, horoscopes, fate, soothsaying, divinations, omens? When we live in defiance of him, tell me, where is our love?

Does anyone have a warm and affectionate friend? Let him love Christ at least as much, if no more. Let him love the one who gave his Son for us, his enemies, who had no merits of our own. Merits, did I say? We had committed countless sins; we had defied him beyond all defiance, and without cause! Yet after countless acts of goodness and care, even then he did not cast us off. At the very time when we were doing him the greatest wrong, he gave his Son for us. And still we, after such great benefits, after being made his friends and counted worthy through him of every blessing, have not loved him even as a friend! What hope, then, can we have? You shudder, perhaps, at the words — but I wish you shuddered at the fact!

You say: “What? How will it be shown that we do not love God even as much as we love our friends?” I will try to show you — and I wish my words were groundless and beside the point! But I am afraid the facts bear them out. For consider: friends who are truly friends will often suffer loss for those they love. But for Christ no one will suffer loss, or even be content with what he has. For a friend we readily put up with insults and take up quarrels; but for Christ no one can bear to make an enemy — and the saying goes, “Be loved for nothing, but do not be hated for nothing.”

None of us would fail to help a friend who was hungry. But when Christ comes to us day after day and asks for nothing great, only bread, we pay him no attention — even though we are sickeningly overfull and swollen with gluttony, though our breath gives away yesterday’s wine, and we live in luxury and squander our wealth on prostitutes and hangers-on and flatterers, and even on the deformed, the feeble-minded and dwarfs. For people turn the natural defects of such people into entertainment.

Again, friends who are truly friends we do not envy, and we are not galled by their success. Yet this is exactly what we feel toward Christ, in those who serve him. Our friendship for people turns out to be stronger than the fear of God; for the envious and the insincere plainly respect people more than God. How is this? God sees the heart, and yet a man does not hold back from practicing deceit in his sight. But if the same man were caught in deceit by people, he thinks he is ruined and blushes with shame.

But why speak of that? If a friend is in trouble, we visit him, and we would be afraid of being blamed if we put it off even a little while. But we do not visit Christ, though he is dying over and over in prison. Or rather, if we have friends among the faithful, we visit them — not because they are Christians, but because they are our friends. So we do nothing out of the fear or the love of God; some things we do out of friendship, some out of habit. When we see a friend set out on a journey, we weep and are troubled; and if we see him die, we mourn him, though we know we will not be separated long and that he will be given back to us at the resurrection. But though Christ departs from us — or rather, though we reject him every day — we do not grieve, and we think nothing of wronging him, offending him, and provoking him by doing what displeases him.

And the fearful thing is not that we fail to treat him as a friend. I will show that we even treat him as an enemy. How, you ask? Because “the mind of the flesh is hostile to God,” as Paul has said, and we carry this about with us always. And we persecute Christ when he comes toward us and arrives at our very doors; for wicked actions in effect do this. Every day we subject him to insults by our greed and our plunder.

And does anyone win a good name by preaching his word and doing good to his church? Then he becomes an object of envy, because he does the work of God. We think it is the man we envy, but our envy passes on to Christ. We want the good to come not through others but through ourselves. But this cannot be for Christ’s sake; it is for our own. Otherwise it would make no difference to us whether the good was done by others or by ourselves.

Suppose a physician found he could not cure his own son, who was in danger of going blind. Would he refuse the help of another who was able to cure him? Far from it! He would almost say to him, “Let my son be made well, whether it is by you or by me.” And why? Because he would not be thinking of himself, but of what was good for his son. In the same way, if our concern were for Christ, it would lead us to say, “Let good be done, whether by us or by anyone else.” As Paul said, “Whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is preached” (Philippians 1, verse 18). In the same spirit Moses answered, when some wanted to rouse his anger against Eldad and Medad because they were prophesying: “Are you jealous for my sake? I wish that all the Lord’s people were prophets!” (Numbers 11, verse 29). These jealous feelings come from empty glory. And are they not the feelings of opponents and enemies?

Does anyone speak ill of you? Love him! It is impossible, you say. No — if you are willing, it is entirely possible. For if you love only the one who speaks well of you, what thanks do you deserve? You are not doing it for the Lord’s sake, but for the sake of the man’s kind words. Has anyone harmed you? Do him good! There is little merit in doing good to someone who has done good to you. Have you been badly wronged and suffered loss? Make a point of repaying it with the opposite. Yes, I beg you. Let this be how we do our own part.

Let us stop hating and harming our enemies. He commands us “to love our enemies” (Matthew 5, verse 44), but we persecute him while he loves us. “Far from it!” we all say — in words, but not in deeds. Our minds are so darkened by sin that in our actions we tolerate what in words we call intolerable. So let us give up the things that are harmful and ruinous to our salvation, so that we may obtain the blessings that we may obtain as his friends. For Christ says, “I desire that where I am, my disciples may be also, so that they may see my glory” (John 17, verse 24). May we all attain it, through the grace and love of Jesus Christ.