Homily 10 — First Timothy 3, verses 1 to 7

John Chrysostom: Homilies on the New Testament

Homilies on First Timothy

Homily 10 — First Timothy 3, verses 1 to 7

First Timothy 3, verses 1 to 7

“If a man desires the office of a bishop, he desires a good work. A bishop, then, must be blameless, the husband of one wife, watchful, self-controlled, of good behavior, hospitable, able to teach; not given to wine, not one to strike, not eager for shameful gain; but patient, not quarrelsome, not greedy; one who rules his own house well, keeping his children in submission with all dignity.”

Now that he is going on to speak about the office of bishop, he begins by showing what sort of person a bishop ought to be. And here he does not do it in the course of his instructions to Timothy himself; he addresses everyone, and through Timothy he instructs the others. And what does he say? “If a man desires the office of a bishop,” I do not blame him, for it is a work of protection. If anyone has this desire — not craving the rule and the authority, but wishing to protect the church — I do not blame him. “For he desires a good work.” Even Moses desired the office, though not the power, and his desire exposed him to that taunt, “Who made you a ruler and a judge over us?” (Acts 7, verse 27; Exodus 2, verse 14). If anyone, then, desires it in this way, let him desire it. For the office of bishop takes its name from overseeing everyone.

“A bishop, then,” he says, “must be blameless, the husband of one wife.” He does not lay this down as a rule, as though a bishop must not be without a wife; he is forbidding him to have more than one. For even the Jews were allowed to marry a second time, and even to have two wives at once. For “marriage is honorable” (Hebrews 13, verse 4). Some, however, say that this is said so that he should be the husband of one wife.

“Blameless.” Every virtue is included in this word. So if anyone is aware of sins in himself, he does wrong to desire an office from which his own actions have shut him out. A man like that ought to be ruled, not to rule others. For the one who holds rule ought to be brighter than any light. His life should be spotless, so that everyone looks up to him and makes his life the pattern for their own. And in giving this charge Paul had no ordinary purpose in view. He too was about to appoint bishops — which he also urges Titus to do, in his letter to him — and since it was likely that many would want that office, he gives these warnings.

“Watchful,” he says: that is, on his guard, with a thousand eyes around him, quick to see, the eyes of his mind never dimmed. Many things happen that keep a man from seeing clearly, from seeing things as they are. Cares and troubles and a load of business press on him from every side. So he must be watchful, not only over his own affairs but over those of others. He must be wide awake; he must be fervent in spirit and, as it were, breathe fire. He must work and attend to his duty day and night, even more than a general over his army; he must be careful and concerned for everyone.

“Self-controlled, of good behavior, hospitable.” Most of those under their rule have these qualities too — for in these respects they ought to be equal to those who rule over them. So, to show what belongs to bishops in particular, he adds, “able to teach.” This is not required of the one who is ruled, but it is most essential for the one who has been entrusted with this rule.

“Not given to wine.” Here he does not mean a drunkard so much as someone insolent and shameless. “Not one to strike.” This too does not mean striking with the hands. What, then, does “not one to strike” mean? There are some who strike the consciences of their brothers and sisters at the wrong time, and it seems to be said with them in view. “Not eager for shameful gain, but patient; not quarrelsome, not greedy; one who rules his own house well, keeping his children in submission with all dignity.”

If, then, “the married man is concerned about the things of the world” (First Corinthians 7, verse 33), and a bishop ought not to be concerned about the things of the world, why does he say “the husband of one wife”? Some indeed think he says this of one who remains free of a wife. But if it is meant otherwise, a man who has a wife may be as though he had none (First Corinthians 7, verse 29). That freedom was rightly granted at the time, as suited to the circumstances then. And it is quite possible, if a man is willing, to order his life in this way. Riches make it hard to enter the kingdom of heaven, yet rich men have often entered it; and it is the same with marriage.

But why, when he speaks of a bishop, does he say he should be “not given to wine, hospitable,” when he ought to name greater things? Why did he not say that he should be an angel, not subject to human passions? Where are those great qualities Christ speaks of, which even those under their rule ought to have? To be crucified to the world, to be always ready to lay down their lives, as Christ said: “The good shepherd gives his life for the sheep” (John 10, verse 11); and again, “Whoever does not take his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me” (Matthew 10, verse 38). But “not given to wine,” he says — a fine prospect indeed, if these are the things a bishop has to be warned about! Why has he not said that he ought to be already raised above the world? Do you really demand less of the bishop than even of those in the world? For to them he says, “Put to death your members that are on the earth” (Colossians 3, verse 5), and “One who has died is freed from sin” (Romans 6, verse 7). “Those who belong to Christ have crucified the flesh.” And Christ again says, “Whoever does not forsake all that he has is not worthy of me” (Luke 14, verse 33). Why are these things not required by Paul? Plainly because few could be found of that character, and many bishops were needed, so that one might preside in every city.

But because the churches were going to be exposed to attacks, he does not require that surpassing and lofty virtue, but a moderate degree of it. For to be self-controlled, of good behavior, and temperate were qualities common to many.

“Keeping his children in submission with all dignity.” This is necessary, so that an example may be shown in his own house. For who would believe that a man who did not keep his own son in submission would keep a stranger under control? “One who rules his own house well.” Even those outside say this: that the man who manages a household well will make a good statesman. For the church is like a small household. As in a house there are children and a wife and household servants, and the man rules over them all, so in the church there are women, children, servants. And if the one who presides in the church has partners in his authority, so the man has a partner, his wife. Must the church provide for its widows and virgins? So in a family there are servants and daughters to be provided for. And in fact it is easier to rule a house. That is why he asks, “If a man does not know how to rule his own house, how will he take care of the church of God?”

Verse 6: “Not a novice.” He does not say, “not a young man,” but “not a new convert.” For he had said, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth” (First Corinthians 3, verse 6). Wishing to point out such a person, he used this word. Otherwise, what stopped him from saying, “not a young man”? If youth alone were the objection, why did he himself appoint Timothy, a young man? And he shows that Timothy was young by saying to him, “Let no one despise your youth” (First Timothy 4, verse 12). He appointed him because he knew his great virtue and the great strictness of his life. Knowing this, he writes, “From childhood you have known the holy Scriptures” (Second Timothy 3, verse 15). And that Timothy practiced intense fasting is shown by the words, “Use a little wine for your frequent illnesses,” which Paul wrote to him among other things; for if he had not known of such good works of his, he would not have written it, or given any such charge to his disciple.

But since there were many at that time who came over from the pagans and were baptized, he says, “Do not at once advance a novice — that is, one of these new converts — to a position of honor.” For if, before he had properly become a disciple, he were suddenly made a teacher, he would be lifted up into insolence. If, before he had learned to be ruled, he were appointed one of the rulers, he would be puffed up. That is why he adds, “so that he may not be puffed up with pride and fall into the condemnation of the devil” — that is, into the same condemnation Satan brought on himself by his pride.

Verse 7: “He must also have a good reputation with those outside, so that he may not fall into disgrace and the snare of the devil.”

This is rightly said, since he was sure to be reproached by them. And perhaps for the same reason he said, “the husband of one wife,” though elsewhere he says, “I wish that all men were even as I myself am” (First Corinthians 7, verse 7) — that is, practicing self-control. So as not to confine them within too narrow a limit by requiring an over-strict way of life, he is content to prescribe a moderate virtue. For it was necessary to appoint someone to preside in every city, as he writes to Titus: “that you should appoint elders in every city, as I directed you” (Titus 1, verse 5).

But what if he should have a good reputation and a fair name, and not deserve it? In the first place, this would not easily happen. It is a great thing for good men to win a good reputation among their enemies. But in fact he has not let this stand by itself. A good reputation “also,” he says — that is, in addition to his other qualities. What, then, if they should speak evil of him without cause, out of envy, especially since they were pagans? That was not to be expected. For even they will respect a man of blameless life.

Why, then, does he say of himself, “through bad report and good report” (Second Corinthians 6, verse 8)? Because it was not his life they attacked, but his preaching. That is why he says, “through bad report.” They were slandered as deceivers and impostors because of their preaching, and that was because they could not attack their characters and lives. For why did no one say of the apostles that they were sexually immoral, impure, or greedy, but only that they were deceivers, which concerns their preaching alone? Must it not be that their lives were beyond reproach? It is plain.

So let us live that way too, and no enemy, no unbeliever, will be able to speak evil of us. For the man whose life is virtuous is revered even by them. Truth stops the mouths even of enemies.

But how does he “fall into a snare”? By falling again and again into the same sins, like those outside. For if he is that kind of man, the evil one soon lays another snare for him, and they soon bring about his ruin. But if he has a good reputation with his enemies, he will have it much more with his friends. That a man whose life is blameless is not likely to be spoken badly of, we can gather from the words of Christ: “Let your light so shine before people that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 5, verse 16).

But what if someone is falsely accused, and slandered because of special circumstances? Well, that can happen; but even such a man ought not to be promoted, for the outcome is greatly to be feared. That is why it is said he should have “a good reputation”: your good works are to shine. As no one will say that the sun is dark — not even the blind, for he would be ashamed to go against the opinion of everyone — so no one will find fault with a man of outstanding goodness. And although the pagans will often slander him because of his teachings, they will not attack his virtuous life; they will join the others in admiring and revering it.

Lights in the World

Let us live, then, in such a way that the name of God is not blasphemed. Let us not, on the one hand, look to human reputation; nor, on the other, lay ourselves open to a bad one. On both sides let us keep to moderation, as he says: “among whom you shine as lights in the world” (Philippians 2, verse 15). This is why God left us here: that we might be like lights; that we might be appointed teachers of others; that we might be like yeast; that we might live like angels among men, like adults among children, like the spiritual among the unspiritual, so that they may profit by us; that we might be like seed and bear much fruit.

There would be no need of words if we shone like this in our lives; there would be no need of teachers, if only we showed deeds. There would be no pagans, if we were the Christians we ought to be. If we kept the commands of Christ, if we suffered wrong, if we let others take advantage of us, if when insulted we blessed, if when mistreated we did good (First Corinthians 4, verse 12) — if this were the general practice among us, no one would be so savage as not to come over to godliness. And to show this: Paul was only one man, yet how many did he draw after him? If we were all like him, how many worlds might we not have drawn to ourselves?

Look, Christians are more numerous than pagans. In other arts one man can teach a hundred boys together; but here, where there are many more teachers — more teachers than learners — no one is won over. For those who are being taught look to the virtue of their teachers. And when they see us with the same desires, chasing the same things, power and honor, how can they admire Christianity? They see our lives open to reproach, our souls worldly. We admire wealth as much as they do, and even more. We have the same horror of death, the same dread of poverty, the same impatience with sickness; we love glory and rule just as much. We wear ourselves out to the point of death for love of money, and we bow to whatever the times demand. How, then, can they believe? From miracles? But these are no longer done. From our way of life? It has gone bad. From love? Not a trace of it is to be seen anywhere. That is why we will have to give an account not only for our own sins, but for the harm they have done to others.

So let us come back to a sound mind. Let us keep watch, and show a heavenly way of life here on earth. Let us say, “Our way of life is in heaven” (Philippians 3, verse 20), and let us carry on the contest here on earth.

Someone may say: “There have been great men among us.” But the Greek says: “How am I to believe that? I see nothing like it in the way you live. If that is the argument, we too have had our philosophers, men admired for their lives.” “But show me another Paul, or a John. You cannot.” Would he not laugh at us for reasoning like this? Would he not go on sitting still in his ignorance, seeing that the wisdom we profess is in words, not in deeds?

For as things are, for a single penny you are ready to kill or be killed! For a handful of earth you bring lawsuit after lawsuit! For the death of a child you turn everything upside down! I pass over other things that might make us weep: your soothsaying, your omens, your superstitious observances, your casting of horoscopes, your signs, your amulets, your divinations, your incantations, your magic arts. These are sins that cry out, enough to provoke the anger of God: that after he has sent his own Son, you should dare to do such things as these.

No Comfort in Company

What, then, can we do but weep? Scarcely a small part of the world is on the road to salvation. And those who are perishing hear this, and rejoice that they are not going to suffer alone, but in company with great numbers. But what reason is this for joy? That very joy will bring them punishment. Do not think it is there as it is here, where having companions in suffering brings comfort. And how is this plain? I will make it clear.

Suppose a man were sentenced to be burned, and saw his own son burning with him, and the smell of his scorched flesh rose to his nostrils. Would that not be death to him in itself? No doubt it would. And I will tell you how it is. If those who are not suffering go numb and faint with terror merely at seeing such things, how much more will those be affected who are suffering themselves? Do not wonder at this. Hear a certain wise man saying, “Have you become weak as we are? Have you become like us?” (Isaiah 14, verse 10). For human nature is disposed to feel with others, and the sufferings of others move us to pity. Will a father, then, seeing his son under the same condemnation, or a husband his wife, or a man his fellow man, receive comfort, and not rather an increase of his sufferings? In such a case are we not overcome all the more?

But you say: “There are no such feelings there.” I know there are not; but there are others far more wretched. For there will be wailing that nothing can console, with everyone watching everyone else’s torments. Do those who are suffering draw comfort in their distress from others sharing it? Surely it is no comfort to see a son, a father, a wife, or grandchildren suffering the same punishment. If someone sees his friends in such a state, is that any comfort? None! None! It only adds to the intensity of our own sufferings!

Besides, there are evils so severe that sharing them cannot lighten them. If two men were thrown into the fire together, would they comfort each other? Tell me: whenever we have been struck by a violent fever, have we not found that all comfort failed us? For there are disasters so overwhelming that they leave no room in the soul for comfort. When a wife has lost her husband, does it lessen her grief to count up the many who have suffered the same loss?

So let us not lean on any such hope. Let us rather find our only comfort in repenting of our sins and in keeping to the good path that leads to heaven, so that we may obtain the kingdom of heaven, by the grace and love for humankind of Jesus Christ our Lord, with whom, to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, power, and honor, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.