1 Tim 14

Guard the Deposit

1 Timothy 6.11-21

Jason Procopio

We have finally reached the end of Paul’s first letter to Timothy, which we began in the month of March. In our very first message on this letter, I said the following sentence: “At the core of this letter is a theological framework that Paul sets up, and that framework is essentially this: the gospel, rightly understood, will always produce godliness in God’s children; so the motor for the growth of the church, and the framework in which that growth happens, is the gospel itself.” 

And indeed, this is what we’ve seen all along. Paul has addressed such varied issues in the life of the church as false teaching, prayer, the way we speak to one another, the way the church is governed, how we relate to other Christians, and how we relate to money. In all of those cases we saw the exact same thing, over and over again—if we truly understand the gospel, that gospel will produce change in us. It will change the way we deal with money, the way we see other Christians, the way we deal with authority, the way we integrate or reject certain teachings, and every other aspect of our lives.

And now, with that conviction in mind, Paul is going to give Timothy a series of imperatives. And these imperatives are a kind of summary statement of all he’s said so far: now that you know the effects the gospel will have on those who belong to God, now that you know the effects of the gospel on the church, be faithful in your charge to pursue that change. 

And we’ll see that the end of Paul’s letter is deeply personal: he does give some imperatives to Timothy concerning the church and his ministry, but for the most part the imperatives he gives are personal in nature. In other words, the church in Ephesus as a whole is not his only concern; he is not purely pragmatic. In addition to his concern for the church in Ephesus and the gospel, Paul simply loves Timothy, and wants him to be happy. So he reminds him of the fleeting pleasures those who reject Christ seek, and exhorts Timothy to pursue his true treasure where it can be found. This is not just a theological treatise: it is a letter from one man to his son in the faith, whom he loves dearly, and for whom he wishes the greatest joy possible. So with that motivation in mind, what does Paul tell Timothy to do?

1) Guard Yourself (v. 11-13)

11 But as for you, O man of God, flee these things. So just as a reminder, this is not a new passage; we’re picking up this text in the middle of a longer section. When Paul says, “Flee these things,” these things are the things he mentioned just before, which we saw last week. Remember, there are those in Timothy’s church who are rejecting the true gospel in favor of a gospel of their own making, and in our previous text Paul told Timothy what is motivating these false teachers—namely, the love of money and a thirst for controversy and division in the church. Paul said that those who reject the gospel of Christ are all craving something—approval or security or comfort—and that Timothy should flee making these things his ultimate goals, not because they’re bad in themselves, but rather because they can’t satisfy. This is why just before, he warned Timothy about the love of money (which he’ll come back to in a minute)—money is not bad in itself, but the love of money is a dangerous thing, because it can never satisfy and can actually lead one into desires that are even more harmful.

And this question of satisfaction, of contentment in Christ, is very important, because it shows why Paul says what he does now. He told Timothy just before (v. 6) that godliness with contentment is great gain. The person who is godly knows God for who he is, and is satisfied in God; so he can be content, he doesn’t need to pursue satisfaction elsewhere. So Paul doesn’t just tell Timothy to flee these things that can’t satisfy him—he tells Timothy what to pursue.

V. 11: But as for you, O man of God, flee these things. Pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, gentleness. Timothy is to pursue righteousness—righteousness is Christlike character, loving the things he loves and hating the things he hates. The more righteous we grow, the more God is glorified, and the happier we become, for we find ourselves more and more in line with how he created us to be. 

Timothy is to pursue godliness—godliness is the love for God and the fear of God. The more we love God and fear him, the more God is glorified, and the happier we become, because we have set our eyes and hearts on the one thing he created us to love: himself. 

Timothy is to pursue faith—faith is belief in Christ for salvation, and trust in him for all we need. The more our faith grows, the more God is glorified in our faith in him, and the more our satisfaction grows as well, for we know who our God is, and what kind of God he is; and we have seen that our trust in him has always been proven right in the past, and will continue to be proven right in the future. 

Timothy is to pursue love—love for God and love for others. If we know how God has loved us, and how he has shown his love to us in Christ Jesus, our natural response is love for God; and if we know how he has loved us, this will birth in us love for others. 

Timothy is to pursue steadfastness—steadfastness is persistence and faithfulness in obedience. The more steadfast we are, the more glorified God is (because he is proven to be worth that steadfastness) and the happier we are in him, for we are more and more stable and unwavering in our commitment to him: we see the evidence of his work in our lives. 

Timothy is to pursue gentleness—Timothy is surrounded by adversaries, and should respond to them gently rather than angrily. The gentler we are, the more God is glorified—for he has proven himself to be more satisfying than being right and having the last word; and the more satisfied we are, for we don’t have to have the last word. There is a peace to gentleness—it is rest to be gentle. So Timothy is called to pursue these things—with everything in him. 

Everything Timothy is called to pursue is worthy of pursuit, and is promised to those who belong to God. We’ve seen on multiple occasions in this letter that the gospel changes us, produces in us right attitudes and right desires. We might imagine that because the gospel does this in us through the work of the Holy Spirit, we wouldn’t need to pursue it. But it’s the exact opposite: it would be cruel for God to command us to pursue something, then hold it out of our reach like the proverbial carrot on the end of the stick. But the fact that the Spirit gives us new hearts and new desires frees us to go after those things which will help us know Christ better, love him more deeply, and be happier in him. Precisely because the Spirit produces these things in us by applying the gospel to our hearts, we are invited to pursue them, and we are able to do so.

The next imperative (v. 12): Fight the good fight of the faith (that is, the faith of the gospel, the Christian faith). This is a tough verse, because it takes something essentially negative (a fight), and calls it good. And it is almost ironic that this instruction directly follows an appeal to Timothy’s gentleness. If he had stopped at gentleness, it would seem that Paul is calling Timothy to be a pushover, to let these false teachers and opponents steamroll him in the name of being “gentle”. But this couldn’t be further from the truth: Paul calls Timothy to defend the faith. To fight. To not let these opponents corrupt the good news of the gospel; to not stand idly by while they say things about Jesus which are untrue.

There is a strong notion of difficulty in this word “fight”—the verb in Greek is agōnizomai, in which we can clearly see our words “agony” or “agonize.” It’s often going to be painful, and it’s often going to be unpleasant. John Stott wrote about this verse, “Nobody enjoys a fight, unless of course the person concerned is pugnacious by temperament. Fighting is an unpleasant business—undignified, bloody, painful and dangerous. So is controversy, that is, fighting for truth and goodness. It should be distasteful to all sensitive spirits. There is something sick about those who relish it. Nevertheless, it is a ‘good fight’; it has to be fought. For truth is precious, even sacred. Being truth from God, we cannot neglect it without affronting him. It is also essential for the health and growth of the church. So whenever truth is imperiled by false teachers, to defend it is a painful necessity.” 

This fight is essential; it is necessary. We can see that fairly easily. What’s harder for us to imagine is this:  how could a “fight” be “good”? Many years ago Loanne found herself face to face with a guy who was accosting her. By the time I caught up with her, she was face to face with this huge, heavily muscled guy, who had his giant hand on her arm (in my memory his hand was the size of a small dog). I saw red—I grabbed his hand and took it off of her arm and put myself between him and her. I got a head-butt in the eye for my troubles, but I went to bed that night satisfied; I had defended my wife. Because I love her, I couldn’t not defend her. The whole experience was wildly unpleasant; I would not like to repeat it; but it was a good fight. 

Now to be fair, Loanne didn’t really need defending. I hadn’t seen what caused her to do it, but it turned out that she had started this altercation with him, because she had seen him beating his girlfriend, who was nearby; she was defending this girl who clearly couldn’t defend herself. And she was ferocious—it was terrifying, and although he was twice her size, I doubt very much that she needed me to protect her. Here’s my point: I didn’t come to Loanne’s defense because she was helpless; I did it because I love her. 

When we are called to fight the good fight of the faith, to defend the gospel, it is not because God is helpless and can’t defend himself. Obviously he can—he’s not afraid of heresy, and can defend himself infinitely better than we ever could. No—we are called to fight the good fight of the faith, we are called to defend the gospel, because we love him, and we love the gospel. The gospel is what God used to save us! The gospel is what God uses to make us like him! The gospel is the most precious news we have ever received or will ever receive; so we cannot stand for anyone bringing discredit on it. Our love for our God and for his gospel compels us to defend it. When those who claim to be Christians attempt to draw people away from the faith that we love, we are called and compelled to defend that faith, to refute their arguments, to show why their attempts are ungodly and unworthy. It’s unpleasant, every time. But it is a good fight.

Next (second half of v. 12): Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and about which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses. Once again, here we see the tension: eternal life is given to us; it is a gift. Not only is it a gift, it is assured; the Bible contains a multitude of promises that if God has saved us, he will keep us to the end and will not let us fall away from faith—eternal life is promised to those who have been given faith in God.

So then, why must Timothy “take hold” of eternal life, if he already has it? There is a great scene towards the end of the film When Harry Met Sally… Harry approaches Sally on New Year’s Eve to tell her how much he loves her. She accuses him of saying what he’s saying because he’s lonely, and because it’s New Year’s Eve, and he says that no, “the reason I came here tonight is because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to begin as soon as possible.”

How many Christians content themselves with the idea of eternal life, sometime in the future, after they die, and make no effort to enjoy the happiness of that eternal life now, in the present, as soon as possible? This is what Paul is saying to Timothy: you can be assured of your future with Christ, and that’s good. But eternal life is not just a future reality; it starts now. All the benefits in which you will delight for the rest of eternity are yours today. But of course, you’re not in heaven yet, so this corrupted earth will fight against you! So take hold of it—seize that eternal life to which you were called! You’ve told people about this; you’ve preached about this; you’ve made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses. So don’t let it just be something you say. Pursue Christ today, love him today, live your eternal life today, and look forward to continue living it for all eternity! Take hold of eternal life.

2) Guard the Commandment (v. 13-16)

Paul now brings in two witnesses for his next imperative: the Father and the Son. 13 I charge you in the presence of God, who gives life to all things, and of Christ Jesus, who in his testimony before Pontius Pilate made the good confession… The fact that he is giving this charge in the presence of God and Jesus Christ is not meant to intimidate Timothy, but rather to encourage him: they are the ones who called you to this; they are the ones who have made you able to do it. So with the Father and Son in your corner (v. 14), keep the commandment unstained and free from reproach… “The commandment” includes what Paul has admonished Timothy to do so far: admonish the church to pray (2.1-2); set up the church as God intended (chapter 3); train yourself in godliness (4.7); command and teach these things with confidence, despite your youth (4.11-12); set an example for the believers (4.12); Keep a close watch on yourself and on the teaching. Persist in this, for by so doing you will save both yourself and your hearers (4.16). If Timothy does these things, if he is faithful to his charge, then the commandment will be fulfilled in him; he will not be liable to reproach before God.

It’s a heavy calling, but which comes with a promise (v. 14): keep the commandment unstained and free from reproach until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ, 15 which he will display at the proper time—he who is the blessed and only Sovereign, the King of kings and Lord of lords, 16 who alone has immortality, who dwells in unapproachable light, whom no one has ever seen or can see. To him be honor and eternal dominion. Amen. 

Have you ever made a trip which seemed long, in order to get to your favorite restaurant and eat a meal you just can’t wait to eat? That’s what’s happening here. We have received our treasure, but we haven’t received all of it yet. We’ve had a foretaste, and with this foretaste still in our mouths, we keep going, waiting for the day when we’ll sit down at the feast and eat to our hearts’ content.

3) Guard the Church (v. 17-19)

Now Paul makes a quick aside, to remind Timothy of his responsibility toward those in the church. And rather than going back over everything he’s said before, he stays within the context of material gain as an example. 17 As for the rich in this present age, charge them not to be haughty, nor to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches… So, Paul reminds Timothy once again of what he was saying just before: he reminds him of the futility of material wealth, of how unsatisfying it is, and contrasts it with what these people should pursue: charge the rich not to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy. 18 They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, 19 thus storing up TREASURE for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life. If their treasure is truly in God, then they are free with the wealth that they have, free to not hoard it for themselves but to be generous with it. They can give what they have because what they have is a gift.

This is a great example of everything Paul has said in this letter: if Christians understand and accept the gospel, they will be changed. They will see their lives different; they will see their relationships differently; they will see their money differently. Rather than being focused on what they don’t have, they will keep their eyes on what they have already received, and what is already waiting for them.

4) Guard the Deposit (v. 20-21)

Now Paul gives Timothy one final exhortation: 20 O Timothy, guard the deposit entrusted to you. Avoid the irreverent babble and contradictions of what is falsely called “knowledge,” 21 for by professing it some have swerved from the faith. Grace be with you. The word “deposit” was used as a legal term to describe money or valuables entrusted to someone else for safekeeping—in this case, the valuable in question is the faith of the gospel. So Timothy is once again called to guard it: to protect it against slander, to not deviate from it, no matter how reasonable the “knowledge” of these false teachers may seem. The gospel is far more precious, far more reasonable, far more lasting—protect it. This is the treasure which you have received, and which has been entrusted to you—so treasure it. Keep it safe, so that when you give it to others, you can give it to them intact and unstained.

5) Promises and Calling

If there is one big idea which is central to this letter, it is that the gospel produces a practical and visible change in the lives of those who believe it. However, unfortunately, many Christians today have not had this experience. They believe that God exists, they believe (at least intellectually) that Jesus has died for them, but these realities seem to have little impact on their lives—they still want the same things, they still think the same things, they still do the same things…and they wonder why God isn’t working in them more. 

We talk a lot about grace, and we try to feel this grace more in our lives. But strangely, we often forget the fact that one of the main ways which God gave us to feel his grace more is his commandments. Loanne’s parents bought her a new camera one year for her birthday. It was a beautiful camera, an expensive camera—we were thrilled. In fact, we were so thrilled to use it that we barely read the instruction manual, which told us how to use it. So we stuck to three functions out of several dozen. We used it, but not really efficiently.

God’s commandments are his instruction manual for how to live out the gospel. But since we see them more as things which will make our lives harder, we ignore them and brush them aside. It’s not surprising that we have a hard time believing the gospel will really produce a change in us, if we never use the means God gave us to put that change into practice!

The Bible gives us promises, and the Bible calls us to action. The Bible promises that if we belong to God, certain things will happen in us; and then at the same time, it tells us to do those things which have been promised. Timothy knows he has eternal life, but Paul tells him to pursue eternal life; Timothy knows he has Christ, but Paul tells him to pursue Christ. (And, we assume, Timothy will go on to exhort his church to do the same.)

The gospel presents us with our treasure, tells us the treasure is ours, and invites us to pursue it. “Flee from these things, because they will rob you of your treasure. Pursue these things, because they will help you love your treasure. Fight the good fight for the gospel, because the gospel taught you of your treasure. Take hold of eternal life, because it is the framework in which you receive your treasure. Guard the deposit, because it is how others will come to know that same treasure.”

Brothers and sisters, this is our calling, and this is our promise. It won’t often feel like God is working in us; often it will feel like a fight, like a war being raged inside of us, like we’re barely hanging on. But we fight all the same, because we have this promise: the blessed and only Sovereign, the King of kings and Lord of lords will build his church. He will make his children grow in their faith. He will glorify himself in us. Let us trust it for the truth that it is, and let us guard the deposit that has been entrusted to us. Christ is our all-satisfying treasure; so let us lay hold of him, to keep the gospel central and unstained from error, so that others may share in the treasure that he is.

1 Tim 2

The Law and the Gospel

(1 Timothy 1.8-17)

Jason Procopio

We’re in the second week of our series on 1 Timothy, and I’m so happy this text landed when it did, because yesterday we baptized three people who have committed their lives to Christ and committed to be his and live for him. And this text explains why they did what they did.

If you remember last week, we saw that Paul is writing to his protégé Timothy, the young pastor of a church in Ephesus which Paul planted. Timothy is faced with a situation which would be uncomfortable for any pastor: certain people in his church are spreading false doctrines. And Paul told Timothy to charge those people to stop saying what they’re saying. Firstly, because it’s false—they’re saying things that simply aren’t true—and secondly, because the things they’re saying promote speculations rather than the stewardship from God that is by faith. The aim of our charge, he says, is love, that issues from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith. Every Christian’s goal should be to act out of love for our brothers and sisters and to actively work to build their faith: everything we do should be motivated by love.

And these men who are spreading these false doctrines clearly aren’t acting out of love: they are self-promoting and self-aggrandizing. V. 6: 6 Certain persons, by swerving from these, have wandered away into vain discussion, 7 desiring to be teachers of the law, without understanding either what they are saying or the things about which they make confident assertions. Now, what he says at the beginning of v. 7 clues us in, not so much to the content of their teaching, but at least from where they’re getting their ideas. He says that these men desire to be teachers of the law.

This “law” he’s referring to is the law of Moses, the law that God gave to his people through Moses at Mount Ararat, after the exodus from Egypt. The law of Moses had guided Jewish society ever since, and this was good: this was what God intended. But the law was given not only to guide Jewish society, but also to prepare the way for Jesus Christ who, as the representative of God’s people, would fulfill that law and bring it to completion. Which is exactly what he did. And that’s how Christianity was born: not as an entirely different religion from Judaism, but rather as the accomplishment of Judaism.

If you read the Bible, the fact that Christianity is in fact the accomplishment of the Jewish religion is quite beautiful; but it did make things tricky sometimes, because many people saw Christianity as not an accomplishment, but rather as a kind of offshoot of Judaism. In other words, they didn’t see the Jewish and Christian faiths as two steps in one singular process, but rather as two sides of the same coin. Which meant that whatever Christ did is great, but (on the flip side) the things that God established with the people of Israel was still of primary importance. They saw Jesus as a footnote to Judaism rather than its endpoint.

So these people in Ephesus are taking bits of the law of Moses and apparently sort of reappropriating them for Christians, in ways God never intended. And that’s the problem: they’re taking something God meant for good, and using it in a way that’s wrong. And that is what Paul is going to explain in today’s passage: he’s going to talk about what it looks like to use the law rightly, and where the law is meant to take God’s people.

1) The Three Uses of the Law (v. 8-11)

We’re going to do a little history lesson this morning. Often in modern Christianity we reduce the law of Moses to something bad and unhelpful: the law was works, and the gospel is grace; works are bad, grace is good; so the law is bad and the gospel is good. Besides the fact that this reduction is problematic simply because the law of Moses is still in the Christian Bible (so it must be good for something), this is not how the church has historically viewed the law of Moses.

This question of what to do with the law came to a head during the Protestant Reformation. Martin Luther was the first theologian to really flesh this out. Luther said that the law was given for two reasons. The first was political, or civil, in nature. The law served as a kind of barrier—as he said, “for the restraint of the uncivilised.” And we understand this. John Stott wrote that “the reason we need speed limits is that there are so many reckless drivers on the roads… If everybody could be trusted to respect everybody else’s rights, laws to safeguard them would not be necessary.” So the law that God gave to his people was there to restrain sinful people; it was a law for the good of society. 

Secondly, Luther said the law was given for theological reasons. The law is there to show us that none of us are able to obey it completely. So the law is there to tell us, in essence, “Here is the standard, and here is where you are—you can never be good enough.” As he wrote, “[The law] shows them their sin, so that by the recognition of sin they may be humbled, frightened, and worn down, and so may long for grace and for [Christ].” (This mirrors what Paul said in his letter to the Romans.)

As to the third use of the law, as it’s called, the Formula of Concord (1577) and John Calvin took up the slack. Calvin insisted that the law was there for a third reason as well: to show the born-again children of God an image of God’s perfect character—the law is there to show us what God is like, how perfect God is, and to drive us to be like him.

So we have these three uses of the law which the Reformers laid out, and we see these things at work in what Paul says here. He starts with what Calvin called the “deterrent” use of the law: he says that the law was given, not first for those who were righteous, but for sinners, to show them what not to do. He lays out some generalities first: 8 Now we know that the law is good, if one uses it lawfully, 9 understanding this, that the law is not laid down for the just but for the lawless and disobedient, for the ungodly and sinners, for the unholy and profane… These are all general terms which reflect the same fact: that the law was given for those people whose hearts are inclined to unholiness, to restrain them from acting on their worst impulses. 

And then he gives some specific examples of how that unholiness sometimes fleshes itself out: for those who strike their fathers and mothers, for murderers, 10 the sexually immoral, men who practice homosexuality, enslavers, liars, perjurers… Now before some of you get uncomfortable, we’re not going to spend the rest of this sermon talking about homosexuality, because that’s not the point of this text. Paul is just giving examples of things which were probably recurrent in Ephesus at the time (and which, for the most part, are still surprisingly recurrent in Paris today). The point isn’t the acts; the point is the heart those acts reflect. The law is not given for the just, but the unjust: it is not there for people who need no restraint, but for those who will otherwise not know how to keep their sin in check—sins like violence and sexual immorality and dishonesty.

And lest we think that he’s zeroing in on these acts to make it seem like they’re somehow “worse” than others, he adds: …AND whatever else is contrary to sound doctrine, 11 in accordance with the gospel of the glory of the blessed God with which I have been entrusted. This is not merely a postscript; he’s not just saying “and all the other bad stuff.” He says that the law was given to restrain whatever is not in accordance with the GOSPEL.

And here we see the second use of the law—the law was given to drive us to CHRIST, by showing us that we are all like this. If we look at this list, we have to see that we are all on the same playing field. We all have lawless and ungodly hearts, and although that inner sinfulness manifests itself in different ways for all of us, the gospel tells us that root problem of sin is exactly the same. In other words, when Paul includes homosexuality in this list, he does not include it so that we might say, “OK, yes, pride is bad; but homosexuality is SO MUCH WORSE.” No—we all see ourselves in that list, because the root of our problem is the same. Some sins are more difficult to deal with than others, some sins have greater social and personal consequences than others, but all sin reveals in us the same heart: we are all lawless, we are all ungodly, we are all sinners. Which means that we all need the same Savior. 

As to the third use of the law, it was given to show us the character of God, so that we might BECOME like him. The law is given to show us, the lawless, how to be like him…and the only way we are able to become like him is THROUGH the gospel of the glory of the blessed God. We are slaves to sin until Christ sets us free, and the gospel has given us this glorious news: that Christ has done exactly that.

2) Christ Came to Save Sinners (v. 12-17)

So in order to illustrate exactly how glorious this gospel is, Paul uses his own life as an example. He says that Christ appointed him to be an apostle even though his track record made him, in many ways, the least likely choice (v. 12-13): 12 I thank him who has given me strength, Christ Jesus our Lord, because he judged me faithful, appointing me to his service, 13 though formerly I was a blasphemer, persecutor, and insolent opponent. But I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, 14 and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.

Now there’s a phrase here that is thorny: when Paul says, I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, he is NOT saying that his ignorance excuses his sin, or that his ignorance has earned him mercy. At the time he wrote this, Paul had already written in the book of Romans that our ignorance and unbelief are not excuses before God—all of us have enough evidence of God’s existence and his goodness to make it so that when we stand before God, and he declares us guilty, we’ll know he’s right. Our just God, if he chooses to condemn us for our sin, will be giving us exactly what we deserve. 

So what Paul is saying here is actually quite simple: God saved me because I needed saving. I was unbelieving! I was ignorant! I had rejected him and persecuted him and I could never have climbed out of this hole myself; I could never have saved myself. So God saved Paul because he was helpless and needed saving.

Now there are a couple of things we need to notice here. Firstly, we need to notice that Paul remembers his sin. So often today, once we come to Christ, we are told to forget what came before, to forget what we were like before and what we had done. And we are told that because of what Paul said in his letter to the Philippians: FORGETTING what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus (Philippians 3.13-14). But clearly he doesn’t mean that he has literally forgotten his sin, or never thinks about it, because that’s not what he’s doing here—his memory of how badly he needed God was vivid. He gives details: formerly I was a blasphemer, persecutor, and insolent opponent. Paul was a Pharisee, a religious zealot, who called Jesus a traitor to Judaism and persecuted the Christians—this guy actually murdered Christians.

And he keeps that former sin in his mind for one reason only: because the knowledge of his former sin is what makes the grace God has shown him so glorious. It’s not a big deal to be forgiven for making a small mistake, like forgetting to call someone back when you said you would; it’s a much bigger deal to be forgiven by someone you have wounded. He wants to remember his former sin in his mind because it makes the grace he has received that much more precious to him.

Here’s the second thing: Christ didn’t come just to save Paul; he came to save sinners like Paul. V. 15: The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost. So often we take Paul’s words and twist them to mean something else. We look at Paul, the super-apostle, and think, Well of COURSE God saved him! Look at him! He’s the holiest man who ever lived (besides maybe Jesus). An we don’t really believe him when he says he is the foremost of sinners. And so we get discouraged, thinking that we somehow have to measure up to a certain standard of holiness before God will even consider us—like we’re auditioning for The Voice. The Son and the Spirit hit the “I Want You” buttons and their chairs swivel around to look at us, but for the Father we’re just not quite good enough, so he keeps his back turned. 

Brothers and sisters, Paul is saying the exact opposite. He’s not setting himself up as a perfect standard of what a holy man is, but as the worst example of what a sinner is. He’s saying this to remind us how ugly sin is and how huge God’s grace is to cover it! Christ did not come to save the righteous. He did not come to save those who have it all together. He did not come to save those who measure up to his standard of righteousness, because we can’t! Like Paul, we need saving. Paul saw himself as the worst of sinners, and the good news is that Jesus came to save people like that. And just in case we’re tempted to doubt it, he gives it this full emphasis at the beginning of his sentence: The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance. When Jesus says you’re not too bad to come to him, that he came not for the righteous but for sinners (Matthew 9.13), you can trust him. 

3) Christ Saves Sinners…To Save Other Sinners (v. 16-17)

Now to conclude this first section, Paul brings back his argument full circle, to remind Timothy of the bigger picture. He’s just said that God saved him because he was ignorant and sinful and needed saving. Now he tells Timothy a second reason why God saved him: 16 But I received mercy for this reason, that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience as an example to those who were to believe in him for eternal life. 

In other words, God would have been right and just to simply kill me on the spot. I deserved it, and couldn’t have blamed him of wrongdoing if he had chosen to do that. But he was patient. He didn’t give me what I deserved, because he knew what he was going to do with me. He waited for my sin to get just about as bad as it could get, so that I could later tell people, “Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners—even sinners as horrible as me.” 

Now, we may not have sinned as grievously as the apostle Paul in the past; it is unlikely that anyone in this room has ever persecuted or murdered anyone for religious reasons. But ultimately, God saved us for the same reason: he saved us because he is a merciful God and we needed saving; and because he intends for us to set ourselves forth as examples of God’s grace, so that others may believe. If we have faith in Christ, if we have been forgiven of our sins, then we are literally living examples of the gospel, living images of the good news for others to see. We received mercy for this reason, that in us, Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience as an example to those who will believe in him for eternal life. No wonder Paul concludes with a doxology!  17 To the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever. Amen.

4) The Law and the Gospel

We need to ask ourselves a question before we can finish: What do these two things have to do with one another? Paul started by talking about the right and wrong uses of the law, what God designed the law to do; and then he moved on to the grace God showed him in Christ. What is the link between the two? Why did he put these two things together? 

The simple answer is that he put the two things together because the wrong use of the law is at the root of the challenges Timothy is facing, and the solution to his challenges is to use the law rightly, to remind his congregation of what the law is pointing to. These false teachers are taking the law and twisting it to fit their own schemes; they desire to be teachers of the law. But they clearly don’t know what they’re talking about, because they are using the law in a way which distracts people from the gospel, when in fact the law is a vehicle for the gospel. There is no dichotomy between law and grace: the law, in God’s hands, is grace for his children, for it shows us our need and drives us to the One who fulfilled the law. 

Let me put it this way. If I excitedly say to any of you here, “You can see colors!,” as if it’s really good news, you’ll probably think me a bit strange. (Of COURSE I can see colors…) But have you seen those new glasses that can enable color-blind people to see proper colors? If you’ve been color-blind your whole life, and I give you a pair of these glasses, suddenly when I excitedly say to you, “You can see colors!,” you completely understand why I’m so excited for you, why this news is so good. 

And then, when I stand you in front of a blank canvas and I put a paintbrush and a color pallet in your hands and I say, “Paint a rainbow for me,” you’ll finally be able to do it.

You see, the law and the gospel are partners in the work of redemption. By the law, God graciously curbs the sinner’s worst instincts, for the sinner’s good and the good of those around him. By the law, God graciously shows us our need for a Savior. By the gospel, God shows us that he has provided a Savior for us. And then he shows us his perfect character in the law (and in the teachings of Jesus which took that law even further), saying, “Now that you’re free from sin, learn to be like me—not by rigorously following the rituals of law of Moses, but by reflecting the perfect character of God we see in the law. Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” Every interaction God has ever had with his people has been grace.

So here is what God is calling you to do through this text, whether you are a believer this morning or not. First of all, don’t assume your sin is smaller than it is. You may not indulge in the kinds of sin that are punishable by law here in France; but every day, all of us do things which are not in accordance with the gospel which has been entrusted to us.

On the other hand, don’t ever assume your sin is too great for God’s grace. Paul sets himself up as a living example of this fact: even if your sin is as deep as the ocean, the grace of our Lord OVERFLOWS for us with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. Imagining anything else is nothing short of idolatry—to put it bluntly, how arrogant is it to imagine that your sin is too big for the God of the universe to forgive? We are not that great, and God is not that small. No sin is too big for God’s grace to overcome. The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.

And if we have received God’s grace, if he has shown us this mercy, we are living examples of the gospel. So brothers and sisters, we mustn’t ignore those around us who need the same grace. The aim of our charge is love. And whether or not we are motivated by love is as plain as the nose on our face. If we see ourselves as morally worthy, and others as morally poor, people can feel that; they can sense our disapproval and the distance that we think is between us—and so they shut down, because who wouldn’t? But if we see ourselves as morally poor needy and sinful (because we are), we’ll be amazed that God would ever give us such a gift. That thankfulness pushes us to love other people as people, and to desire to share this wonderful thing we have undeservingly received. And people can feel that too. So let us love others by letting them see us as we are: not as perfect saints who have it all together, who set the standard of acceptability by God, but as sinners who need saving as badly as anyone else, and who are living proofs that God does indeed save gloriously.

1 Tim 11

Our Two Families

(1 Timothy 5.1-16)

Jason Procopio

Today’s text is a long and complicated one, and it’s going to be hard for us to see the big idea, the reason why Paul is talking about this, because the ideas he’s putting forward are going to seem a bit culturally dated. But there are two good reasons why he’s saying what he is to Timothy. The first is of a simple, practical concern—there is a situation with the widows in Ephesus which Timothy has to address, and Paul is telling him how he should do it. But underlying these practical concerns is a greater reality, a reality which the whole Bible points to and which we need to be aware of if we’re to make sense of why this text is important for us. And this greater reality is the umbrella which is standing over everything Paul says in chapter 5, all the way through v. 2 of chapter 6. So we’re going to start right at v. 1, because the first two verses establish this greater reality fairly well: there’s a reason he opens these subjects with these two verses.

1) The Church As Family (v. 1-2)

Do not rebuke an older man but encourage him as you would a father, younger men as brothers, 2 older women as mothers, younger women as sisters, in all purity. This is so far from the way most of us imagine church, the way we interact with people at church. What is church for most Christians? It’s the place you go on Sunday morning, to sing some songs and hear some nice teaching. It’s your moment to show everyone how happy and fulfilled you are, like a real-life Instagram feed—you put on decent clothes and put on a big smile and when someone asks you how you are, you say (in your best Desperate Housewives voice), “I’m great, how are you?” And then what happens? You go home. You take off those nice clothes, put on your sweatpants, and live your “normal” life. 

But this is not how Paul sees it. He says that the way which we are to relate to each other in the church should mirror the way we are meant to relate to the members of our own families. He says to consider the other people in your church not as acquaintances, or even friends, but as family. He says to Timothy, young man that he is, Do not rebuke an older man but encourage him as you would a father. He should treat (v. 2) older women as mothers. That’s not to say that Timothy will never have to call an older man on his sin (Timothy is the pastor of his church after all), but he won’t go about it in the same way; there will be a certain tone of voice, a certain manner which is in keeping with that relationship of son to father. And his relationships with older women in the church will be similar to the relationship he should have with his mother.

I say should because our relationships with our parents are often somewhat slanted these days. For many people, their parents are those people with whom they are the most likely to be short-tempered, the most likely to argue, the most likely to be condescending. Like I said last week, there is a certain arrogance that comes with youth, and nowhere is this more evident than in the way young people talk to their parents. Youth talk down to their parents, as if they are the ones who know everything (although they’re twenty or thirty years their junior). I’m 36 years old now, and I disagree with my father on a lot of issues. But I never talk down to my dad. I was raised to have a healthy respect for him (and this is not “an American thing,” it is a biblical thing); so while I do express disagreements with him, I never “get on to” my dad; I never talk down to my mother.

I completely understand that some of you have very tense relationships with your parents; it’s even possible many of you have pretty rotten parents. So you may not have learned this from them. But for the Christian, having bad parents does not exclude our treating them as if they were good (after all, Christ did not treat us according to what we deserved, but gave us instead what he deserved); so this is how we should react to our own parents, as unfit as they may be. 

And the same goes with older men and women in the church. Generational gaps are a challenge; older generations are almost always frustrating for younger generations, and vice versa. And yet, Paul tells Timothy explicitly that when an older man is conducting himself in a way that is more harmful than helpful, more of a hindrance than an aid, to not rebuke this older man as he may deserve, but rather to encourage him as he would a good, loving father. He tells him not to treat an older woman as he would a peer, but to give her the care and respect God would expect her to give his own mother.

Now, that’s how we are to deal with those older than us; what about those who are young? Paul says to treat younger men as brothers. (I’m going to be speaking mostly to guys here, because Paul is addressing Timothy; but ladies, just take everything I’m saying and reverse it, and the same goes for you.) We are to treat young men as brothers. Again, don’t think of your shaky, contentious relationship with your actual brother; think of the ideal here. Think of what a brother should be. He is not a competitor, but a companion, who encourages you to pursue what you should pursue, who lovingly says the hard truths you need to hear, but who does so not in order to break you, but to build you up.

V. 2: We are to treat younger women as sisters—and watch, he doesn’t end his sentence there—IN ALL PURITY. So he’s addressing relationships between the sexes. We won’t go into great detail about this, because it’s not the main point of the text, but given the average age range of our church it would be a shame to overlook it. Young Christians often want to know what romantic relationships should look like between Christians, what kind of relationships the Bible would consider appropriate. And most young Christians see what the Bible says, then shiver and go, “Ugh! I can’t do that!” and entirely ignore it, because it is so profoundly countercultural. In the Bible, there is one framework for romantic relationships with members of the opposite sex, and that framework is marriage. Engagement, in the Bible, is not a separate thing, but the first step in that process; this is why when Joseph found out Mary was pregnant, before they were married, he made plans to divorce her quietly (Matthew 1.19); engagement was not a separate thing, it was part of the marriage. This is the only framework the Bible gives us. 

The whole idea of “dating,” of “being together” before we’re married, is a modern, cultural construct that is entirely absent from the Bible, and not necessarily helpful. And it is, I think, unhelpful, because it makes Paul’s command to Timothy here extremely difficult to follow. Simply put, there are things you will do with your girlfriend that you would never do with your sister. You will speak to her in a certain way; you will touch her in a certain way. The same goes for exchanges that happen between Christian men and women who are simply flirting with one another—can we all agree that it’s gross for a brother and sister to flirt with one another? I don’t think I’m reading too much between the lines here; Paul takes care to say, “Treat younger women as sisters, IN ALL PURITY.” He’s watching out for Timothy’s holiness here; he’s trying to protect him from lust and childish games that could end up hurting him or the young woman in front of him. Until you are married, she is your sister. Period. So do with her as you would a sister. 

Now, what’s the point of all of this? Why does Paul say this to Timothy? Because he’s trying to get it into Timothy’s head that the church is a family; it is the household of God. Older men and women are like parents to younger men and women; and many of them need the mother- and father-figures they are lacking in their real families. Young men and women are brothers and sisters to one another; and many of them need brothers and sisters. The relationships within a church are well-defined here, and they are all defined in terms of family. Our relationships in the church reflect those familial relationships we have outside the church. As R.K. Hughes wrote, “How beautiful are church members who know who they are, and then treat one another properly as fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters.”

But at the same time—and here’s where Paul’s going next—the familial relationships of the church must be undergirded by actual family relationships: real husbands, real wives, real parents, real children. Sometimes the church tries to blur these lines, and make it as if, for example, my son isn’t really my son, but if we’re adults, we are all “parents” to him. And while that is kind of true in one sense—I hope you all would protect Jack and love him as if he were your own, should it come to that—in another way it’s not true at all: he’s my son. He’s my responsibility, and Loanne’s. The church is not meant to replace family. This is important to make sense of what’s coming next, because Paul is going to turn to the subject of how the church deals with widows; and what he’s going to say will not just show us the care the church is meant to give this particular group of women, but also as an example of how not to take v. 1-2 to unhealthy extremes.

2) Widows (v. 3-16)

The Bible has a lot to say about widows. For most previous generations, being a widow was harder than being a widower. For a woman whose husband died, everything changed. As John Stott wrote, “Too often a married woman is defined only in relation to her husband. Then, if he dies, she loses not only her spouse but her social significance as well.” So the church was expected to help fill the hole left by a woman’s husband, first by providing for widows.

The question is, practically, how does the church do this? How should widows be provided for, and more specifically, which widows should fall under the church’s responsibility to help? V. 3: 3 Honor widows who are truly widows. 4 But if a widow has children or grandchildren, let them first learn to show godliness to their own household and to make some return to their parents, for this is pleasing in the sight of God. 5 She who is truly a widow, left all alone, has set her hope on God and continues in supplications and prayers night and day, 6 but she who is self-indulgent is dead even while she lives. 7 Command these things as well, so that they may be without reproach. 8 But if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.

So the church should help those widows who are truly in need. Now we know from the context that he’s not merely talking about what we think of as “honor” (i.e. recognizing someone’s value or worth), but that this honor should work itself out in financial provision—v. 8, if anyone does not PROVIDE FOR his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever. So if she a widow has kids or grandkids, then those kids or grandkids must learn to take care ofand provide for their mother! V. 4: 4 But if a widow has children or grandchildren, let them first learn to show godliness to their own household and to make some return to their parents, for this is pleasing in the sight of God.

You may have never heard this, but we often say in Christian circles that “Your first church is your family.” I used to find that expression a bit extreme. But it’s not—if you can’t serve your own family, if you refuse to support and care for your own mother, you are betraying a fundamental lack of understanding of the gospel. The gospel should reorient our thinking to such an extent that we treat everyone with the same kindness and generosity and thoughtfulness with which God has treated us in Christ. We often take this to mean that we should show generosity to all people, and that’s true; but somehow we forget to put our own family into that category of “all people”.

Which makes absolutely zero sense. Look at v. 4 again: if a widow has children or grandchildren, LET THEM FIRST LEARN TO SHOW GODLINESS to their own household. So listen to his logic: if you are unable to show kindness and generosity to members of your own family, then whatever kindness and generosity you show to others is probably not motivated by the gospel; it may be kindness, but it is not godliness. If I cannot show generosity to members of my own family, my generosity is more likely motivated by pride or self-interest than a true understanding of the gospel, because my family “has to love me,” so I care less what they think of me. If these women’s children are still around, they are called to learn to show godliness to their mothers, and free the church up to care for those truly in need (v. 16): Let the church not be burdened, so that it may care for those who are truly widows. Paul is saying, essentially, “These women may not have families. If they have children, if they have relatives, then those relatives should provide for them. But what about those women don’t have families? If they are born again children of God, then guess what? They are our mothers; they are our sisters. So it falls on us to care for them.”

Now after this, something interesting comes up that we need to make sense of. Paul says in v. 9, Let a widow be enrolled if… So he’s talking about a kind of list, or a register, of widows, and the qualifications he gives for enrollment in v. 9-15 are different from the ones he gave in v. 3-8. So most commentators agree (and we’ll see why) that this enrollment is speaking of those widows who wish to devote themselves to service after their husbands have died. So he gives some qualifications for these women: 9 Let a widow be enrolled if she is not less than sixty years of age, having been the wife of one husband, 10 and having a reputation for good works: if she has brought up children, has shown hospitality, has washed the feet of the saints, has cared for the afflicted, and has devoted herself to every good work.

This woman has proven herself to be holy, to be pursuing Christ with her life: if she has had children, she has cared for them well (physically and spiritually); she has shown hospitality to others (Christian or not); she has cared for her Christian brothers and sisters; she has cared for the suffering; and she has generally shown that she lives for God and not for herself. Widows who filled these criteria would be “registered…to undertake similar ministries as an accredited church worker…[which] would also necessitate a decision to remain unmarried, indeed to take a ‘pledge’ to this effect, so as to be fully available for service.”

That’s why Paul says to not put younger women on this list. V. 11: But refuse to enroll younger widows, for when their passions draw them away from Christ, they desire to marry 12 and so incur condemnation for having abandoned their former faith. [That is, going back on their pledge to devote themselves to the church.] 13 Besides that, they learn to be idlers, going about from house to house, and not only idlers, but also gossips and busybodies, saying what they should not. 14 So I would have younger widows marry, bear children, manage their households, and give the adversary no occasion for slander. 15 For some have already strayed after Satan. 

In other words, young people tend to be restless, and if they have too much free time they tend to get themselves into trouble. Remember, this was at a time when women could not work, could not provide for themselves, so the context was different. For that context, Paul is simply putting forth very common-sense reasons for the age limit: if these young widows remarry and have families, those families will help protect them from temptation; they will keep them centered as they grow into the older women they aspire to be.

4) Our Two Families

Now, I said at the beginning that there is a greater reality at work here, which Paul takes as a given so doesn’t take the time to explain, but that we need to understand if we want to see what Paul’s really getting at here. There’s a moment in the gospel of Matthew which is pretty shocking: remember, Jesus’s mother and brothers were looking for him, and someone told him, and he said (Matthew 12.48-49),“Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” 49 And stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers!” He’s not saying family is not important; one of Jesus’s last acts before dying was to make sure someone would look after his mother (Jn. 19.26-27). Rather, he is saying that as important as family is, there is another family which is even more important, which our immediate families reflect, and which our immediate family serves. 

Paul said in Ephesians 1.4-5, In love 5 he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ. The church is the community of all believers, united in Christ; and through faith in Christ, we have been adopted as sons and daughters of God—we are all members of this massive, global family. A local church is not merely a small piece of this family—as if it were only partially ‘the church.’ The local church is a living representation of the fuller picture of the universal church. We are no less united to one another now than we will be in heaven one day.

Our earthly, physical families are a representation of this greater reality—our marriages represent the covenant between Christ and his church; our parenting is meant to reflect the love and care and guidance of our heavenly Father to his children; our loyalty and love to our real brothers and sisters reflect the faithfulness and love we are meant to have for one another. In other words, my family is not an end in itself. It reflects the greater truth of the family of God, and it exists to serve the family of God.

So keeping that biblical reality in mind, look at this passage again. Paul is taking different situations—two involving widows and one involving general relationships between believers—and showing how families and individuals interact within the greater family. A person (in this case, a widow) may come to a point in her life when she wants to devote all her time, all her energy, to ministering to the family of God, and in which she is free to do so. This is a wonderful, beautiful thing. In fact, it is so wonderful, and so beautiful, that if there is the slightest chance she may be tempted to drift back into the life she once led, if there is the slightest chance she may desire to return to the immediate joy of having a family, she shouldn’t do it. Not because that joy isn’t legitimate—it absolutely is. What is illegitimate is committing to serve the family of God…and not being faithful to that commitment. And because Paul knows this will be a serious temptation to some, he wants to protect these women, so he gives Timothy guidelines to ensure that they are protected.

Another person (in this case, a widow) may come to a point in her life when she is unable to care for herself—her husband is dead; she has no children; she is too old to work; she is left without resources. So if this dear woman has no earthly family to provide for her, the church should fill that role, because the church is every bit as much her family as her earthly family was.

Until that point—while we still have families and are still able to provide for ourselves—we still have to deal with the reality that we are truly and eternally united to other Christians, for they are truly our brothers and sisters, adopted by God. And our bond to one another is even stronger than our bond to our earthly families, because we will be united to one another for all eternity. So we are called to not rebuke an older man but encourage him as you would a father, younger men as brothers, 2 older women as mothers, younger women as sisters, in all purity.

So how should these massive truths change the way we live our lives as Christians today, in 21st-century Paris? There are many applications to this text, but let’s be content with three this morning. Firstly: our families are not merely a means for earthly happiness. They are that, but they are so much more. Our families among the most immediate tools God has given us to make us holy. The Bible tells us that we grow in holiness in community; God did not design the Christian life to be lived in isolation from other believers. And the community of which we are most immediately a part, with which we have the most interaction, is our family. So the way we love our family, the way we care for our family, the way we provide for our family, gives us a constant indicator of our growth in holiness. For if we cannot adequately love and care for our family, with whom we’re so close and whom we see so often, how will we ever hope to love and care for our brothers and sisters in Christ?

Secondly, if you are without an earthly family, know that you are not lacking anything which will make you eternally happy. Ultimately, our families will last for a few decades, then will be gone. But if we are united to Christ, we are also united to our brothers and sisters in Christ, which means we truly are family, and we will be family for all eternity. We’ll be enjoying one another and loving one another and experiencing one another’s companionship for the next billion years, and more. So if today you are not married and you do not have children, and you’re terrified of the prospect of going through life without them, don’t be. You may be deprived of a temporary, fleeting pleasure on this earth (which is real); but you will be richly provided with eternal, full joy in your heavenly family for all eternity. In ten million years, looking back, you won’t be thinking about all that you’ve lost, but rather all that you’ve gained.

In the meantime, lastly, we cannot and must not reduce church to the place we go on Sunday to sing songs or listen to a sermon. Look around you—you will enjoy the people all around you, if they know Christ, for all of eternity. And you will enjoy them rightly, without the burden of sin and distorted relationships and ego marring what you have. So let us begin enjoying those relationships now. Let us love older men as fathers; older women as mothers; young men as brothers; young men as sisters, in all purity. Let us fight hard to cultivate to make sure our relationships with one another reflect what they actually are.

And if today you don’t know Christ, whether you have a family or not, this is God’s invitation to you this morning: join the family. Place your faith in Christ; know that you are forever adopted by God as his son, as his daughter; and love him for the God that he is—a Father to the fatherless, protector of widows, and lover of the foreigner. Christ died in order to give you access to this adoption, through the forgiveness of your sin. Love him, and live for him, with your brothers and sisters, forever.

1 Tim 10

Command and Teach These Things

1 Timothy 4.11-16

Jason Procopio

There’s no rule for the structure of sermons—there’s nothing in the Bible that says, “You must expose the text in three points, preferably points that rhyme, then have an application and conclude with a prayer.” Preachers do this because because it’s easier for us to receive and retain information that way, so it’s a perfectly valid way of doing things; but it’s not something that we see explicitly commanded or taught in the Bible. (And thank goodness, because I’m incapable of coming up with catchy points that rhyme.) But good preachers, even if they eschew the standard format of a three-point-rhyming layout, will still, nearly always, have a moment at the end of the sermon where they say, “What does this passage call us to do? How does this truth apply to our lives?” And they’re right to do so—because while Scripture doesn’t usually have a three-point structure, it is always profoundly applicable. Even those passages which just inspire us to contemplate the greatness of God are calling us to respond to the text, by contemplating the things we’ve just seen. 

1) Command and Teach These Things (v. 11)

I said all that because essentially, v. 11-16 of chapter 4 is Paul’s application of what he said in v. 1-10: in this text he gives Timothy six distinct imperatives in response to what he said before. Paul says in v. 11, Command and teach these things. So what are “these things?” If you remember last week’s message, in v. 1-10 Paul returns to the subject of these false teachers which have shown up in the church in Ephesus. He says (v. 1), Now the Spirit expressly says that in later times some will depart from the faith by devoting themselves to deceitful spirits and teachings of demons, 2 through the insincerity of liars whose consciences are seared, 3 who forbid marriage and require abstinence from foods that God created to be received with thanksgiving by those who believe and know the truth. So these people have shown up in the church telling them, in essence, that the gospel is good, but that it’s not quite enough: if you really want to please God, you need to do these other things: abstain from marriage, abstain from certain foods, etc. Basically they’re saying that in addition to the gospel, if you really want God to love you, you need to do all these other things we want you to do.

And Paul reminds Timothy of the foolishness of such an idea: that God is a good God who creates good things for his children to enjoy, provided they enjoy them as God intended. And Christians have the freedom and the ability to enjoy God’s gifts as he intended because of what Christ did for us on the cross—before, men were required to rigorously keep the law, but were unable to, and so Christ kept the law perfectly for us, in order to free us from our sin and let us pursue holiness without the burden of the law on our shoulders. This is the gospel.

So Paul reminds Timothy of the gospel’s central importance in all that he teaches and in all that he does (v. 6): 6 If you put these things before the brothers, you will be a good servant of Christ Jesus, being trained in the words of the faith and of the good doctrine that you have followed. 7 Have nothing to do with irreverent, silly myths. Rather train yourself for godliness; 8 for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come.

This is very serious business—both the life we live, which is shaped by the gospel, and the things we say to others, go to the heart of God’s mission on earth (v. 10): For to this end we toil and strive, because we have our hope set on the living God, who is the Savior of all people, especially of those who believe.

All of that is foundational. Paul is laying down the truth that Timothy needs to remember as he goes to face these false teachers. And now, as he says, Command and teach these things, he’s going to lay out for Timothy what that will look like in his church context: what it will look like to command and teach these things in a church which has been beset by false teaching.

2) Prove Your Maturity (v. 12)

11 Command and teach these things. 12 Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity. There are two very important things to see here. First, this is an interesting window into the situation Timothy is facing in Ephesus. The situation within churches—especially those churches in which there is conflict or lies which need to be combatted—is very complex. It’s not like these false teachers are simply going around teaching things that are untrue; they (and perhaps others in the church) are coming at Timothy from all different angles.

And one of these angles is given to us here: apparently some of these Christians are rejecting Timothy’s ministry because he is young. I’ve had this experience myself—it’s sometimes difficult for a person over forty to take a young pastor seriously. And it’s kind of understandable: it takes humility to receive instruction from someone who’s ten or twenty or thirty years younger than you.

But Paul says something that goes back to what he already said in chapter 3, when he gave Timothy the qualifications for elders in the church. The qualifications for elders are not qualifications of skill, but of character: what makes an elder qualified is not his ability, but his holiness. In other words, he needs to be advanced not in years, but in maturity. So look at what he says: Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity. In other words, young pastor, if you faithfully preach the gospel, AND you live according to that gospel, you will take away all the ammunition of those who say you can’t do your job well because you’re young. 

People imagine that getting older inherently means being more mature. And there is a bit of truth to that. Young people walk around with an overconfidence which borders on arrogance—not because they’re horrible people, but simply because life hasn’t had time to beat that arrogance out of them yet. You learn things with experience, and that shouldn’t be denied. 

However, if we assume that young people can’t be mature because they’re young, we are overestimating one thing and underestimating another. We mustn’t overestimate the transformative power of experience. Godly character isn’t just knowing what God calls us to do; it’s doing what God calls us to do. My paternal grandfather had a rough life; he had been through some mind-blowing experiences in his time. If experience was a guarantee of maturity and wisdom, he would have been remembered as one of the greats. But in his case, as in many cases, those experiences did nothing to change his character or his heart; I loved my Pop more than most of the men I’ve loved in my life, but he was a hard man, in many ways a cruel man, and he died quite a bitter man. We mustn’t overestimate the power of experience.

But on the same token, we mustn’t underestimate the power of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit takes dead sinners and makes them alive again; he is more than capable of making young men and women wise for godliness, despite the fact that they haven’t experienced much. I know some young people who are far wiser and more mature than many people twice their age. This isn’t because they are better people, but because the Holy Spirit has done a work in them that in many ways makes up for their lack of experience. 

So Paul reminds Timothy, not of his greater worth as a man, but of what the Spirit has done in him, as we’ll continue to see. He says, Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity. You know what God has done in you—so show that. You will prove your legitimacy through your life. It is through your speech, conduct, faith, love, and purity that you will show everyone watching that you truly are qualified to be doing this work. That won’t stop people from criticizing, but at least it will allow you to freely and confidently practice your ministry; for no matter what they say, you will be able to stand before God with a clear conscience, knowing you fulfilled your charge.

3) Be an Example (v. 12)

Again, v. 12: Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity. Secondly, Paul expects Timothy to set an example for the believers to follow—and this is important for all of us. Paul expects that the care Timothy takes to remain faithful to the gospel, and the way in which he lives his life, to be imitated by the members of his congregation. 

It’s a simple truth that the pastor can’t see everything that’s going on. These false teachers are probably not going to broadcast their false teaching to the pastor; they’ll whisper it behind the scenes. So you, the believers, no matter how old or young you are, are also called on to keep the gospel central, and to persist in godliness and faithfulness, even when someone comes in to try to pry your eyes away from that gospel.

My dad was in ROTC—a kind of marching club, to initiate young men to the military—when he was young. He had a leader who was the same age, but who was named the captain of their team, and this guy worked hard to make sure he had those marches down, that he was always in step, always where he needed to be. Now, occasionally he would have them sit back and watch him, to know what to do; and watching him march by himself was a little ridiculous. It didn’t work, because everyone was meant to do it together. But when everyone did followed his lead, and did the same thing together, it became something else: it’s an impressive thing to see a hundred people marching exactly in step, precisely synchronized with one another. It’s beautiful.

This is a little like what a pastor does. He sets the example. He works hard to honor Christ in his own life, in a visible way that others can see. But it means nothing (except for his own personal good) if the rest of the church doesn’t follow that example. Because godliness is not something we do in isolation; satellite Christians are unbiblical. We are not called to pursue holiness merely as individuals, but as a body; the church is the body of Christ, and it is through the church that God chooses to glorify himself and testify to his grace in the world.

So just think of it: if we do this—if we the elders do what Paul is telling Timothy to do and set an example, and if you follow that example, what will our church look like? It will be a church in which all the members, collectively, strive to keep the gospel central, and live lives in keeping with that gospel. We will speak in ways that honor Christ and faithfully defend the truth (in speech); we will vigorously pursue holiness (in conduct); we will love each other fiercely (in love); we will hold fast to what we know to be true (in faith); and we will keep themselves from anything which would dishonor God and hinder us from pursuing him (in purity). In other words, we will prove the gospel’s worth by the visible change it produces in us as individuals, and as a body. This is what I pray for Église Connexion. We are, by and large, a young church; the average age here is somewhere between 25 and 30. But there is no reason to believe ours cannot be a church which shines as an example for others, in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity.

Now, there’s a problem in what I just said, a big one: if you asked a hundred different people what they think holiness looks like, you’d probably get a hundred different answers. There are some aspects of basic morality we all agree on. We shouldn’t kill other people. We shouldn’t betray people we love. We shouldn’t take things that belong to someone else. We should be compassionate toward others. We know we all agree on these things because they’re things that makes us all angry if it’s done to us. But there are a lot of other subjects which are up for debate. There are vast disagreements on a lot of issues. And that’s exactly the problem in this passage—these people are saying that Christians shouldn’t get married, shouldn’t eat meat, and they probably have convincing reasons for saying so. So how can we tell if they’re wrong or right? Do we have any safeguards to protect us, to give us solid footing to stand on, which will tell us what it looks like to be pure in speech, in faith and in conduct? Of course we do. Paul tells Timothy next to devote himself to the Scriptures.

4) Remember the Scriptures (v. 13)

13 Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation, to teaching. It’s significant that Paul says, “Devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture.” This is why on at least three occasions in every service we do, Scripture is simply read aloud. We don’t stop at reading, but we read: before saying anything that we want to say, we submit ourselves to God’s Word and listen to what he has to tell us. And then we expound on that; we encourage and exhort one another, using the Scriptures to back up what we’re saying. We teach the Scripture, we talk about what it means and how to apply it. In all of this, the Bible is the authority; God’s Word always gets the last word.

And that’s so important because Scripture will always lead us back to Christ. From the first page of Genesis to the last page of Revelation, every page speaks of Christ. I recently spoke to a young man who is pursuing pastoral ministry, and who is a bit unsure of the pastoral part of it, because while he’s very comfortable with unbelievers, Christians make him crazy. Because Christians are disappointing. A pastor preaches week in and week out; he proclaims truth week in and week out; and often it does nothing! These Christians never live up to what God calls them to; so this young man was angry and struggled with patience, thinking that if Christians understood these truths they should live by them! 

I told him I have that same struggle; I struggle with patience too, I struggle with anger too. But if we are attentive to Scripture, what does Scripture tell us? It doesn’t just give us a list of rules that God calls us to, does it? It tells us that God is angry against sin too…and it tells us how he dealt with that anger. How he didn’t pour out that anger on us, though he deserved it, but he poured it out on his Son, in our place. It tells us how Christ is patient with us, when we are so painfully slow to change. He is not a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses (Heb. 4.15), but one who is always faithful and just to forgive us (1 Jn 1.9), and who actively intercedes for us before his Father (Rom. 8.34). Jesus Christ is infinitely patient with us—he is infinitely patient with you. So what does that knowledge make you want to do, when you’re in front of someone who is having a hard time changing? 

You see, Scripture is the antidote for legalism. The Scriptures tell us plainly what God expects of us, and how Christ fulfilled those expectations for us, and frees us to follow him courageously in that life. And if Timothy, if we, devote ourselves to the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation, to teaching, then we, in the face of all these false accusations and legalistic pressures, will be able to remember what is central: Jesus Christ, his life, death, resurrection and ascension.

Now, put yourself in the shoes of a young pastor: all of this can be a little complicated to navigate. If you look at the wide range of situations and issues that could demand your attention—which is pretty much every situation and issue imaginable—it can be very easy to be disheartened, and imagine that you’ll never be up to this task. Which is absolutely true. You aren’t up to this task. And right now, young pastor, young Christian, you probably are unable to handle 90% of the problems that will come at you. You probably are unable to see, right now, how Scripture speaks into this situation, or that situation. Which is why Paul continues with v. 14.

5) Work With the Spirit (v. 14)

14 Do not neglect the gift you have, which was given you by prophecy when the council of elders laid their hands on you. This particular encouragement is vital for Timothy at this point, because he is facing such harsh opposition. Taking a stand on an issue, especially if it means identifying certain people who are dangerous to the church, is bound to create enemies. So Timothy needs to know what footing he stands on, and why he must persist in spite of opposition. 

Now, the Bible doesn’t actually tell us what this “gift” is, or what was contained in the prophecy that went along with it. Which is completely normal, because Timothy knows; he was there. (Remember, this is a letter.) But even without knowing those things, we can understand why Paul says what he says. Timothy has been given promises by the Spirit concerning his life and ministry; Timothy has been given what he needs to do what God is calling him to do; Timothy has been approved by the church (the council of elders laid their hands on you). So he needs to work, but he doesn’t need to worry. 

Do not neglect the gift you have. I have a naturally high metabolism. I got it from my dad. You can see it if you look at me; I’m a skinny guy, and it’s not because I do a lot of sports (I don’t), or because I don’t eat junk food (I do). Caring for my body is actually a struggle for me, because (aesthetically, at least) I don’t have to. I can eat pretty much whatever I want without gaining weight. Can we all agree? This is a gift. And I’m not glib about that gift. But Loanne could tell you that the older I get, the less effective that gift is. I’m starting to go a little soft around the middle—it’s not fat, but it’s definitely muscle either. I can’t eat the same things today, at 36, as I used to when I was 20. 

The point is this: every gift will deteriorate if left unused. The Holy Spirit gives us what we need to do what God calls us to do—he applies the work of Christ to our life, reminding us that we are free from sin and sons and daughters of God. He shows us Christ’s patience, and so gives us patience; he shows us Christ’s love for us, and so gives us love for others; he shows us why our salvation is good news, and so gives us joy in our salvation. But these gifts are not to be taken as a given—we have them, but we need to work to develop them further. Here’s the big difference between Christianity and other religions: in Christianity, we work to obtain nothing. Everything we have is a gift. You don’t drill holes in order to obtain a power drill; you get the power drill so that you can drill holes. The Holy Spirit has given us everything we need, all the tools necessary, for life and godliness; and because we have those tools, we use them; we work with those gifts; we don’t neglect them. So that’s the first thing: when Paul says, Do not neglect the gift you have, he’s calling Timothy to work.

But at the same time, Timothy needn’t worry. Because that gift was given to him by prophecy when the council of elders laid their hands on you. The Spirit gave him this gift; the church formally approved of Timothy’s ministry. He doesn’t need to impress anyone. He doesn’t need to succeed. He doesn’t need to make sure all of this works; he can’t. This gift doesn’t come from Timothy, but from the Spirit—so the Spirit will make sure the intended work gets done. Timothy can do what he is called to do, and he can do it confidently, knowing that the Spirit has given him the tools he needs, and the church has recognized his ministry. He need not fear. 

And having said all that, Paul gives one final imperative which summarizes the rest: preach the truth and live the truth.

6) Preach the Truth and Live the Truth (v. 15-16)

15 Practice these things, immerse yourself in them, so that all may see your progress. 16 Keep a close watch on yourself and on the teaching. Persist in this, for by so doing you will save both yourself and your hearers. It is the proclamation of the truth of the gospel that the Spirit uses to change people’s hearts. And it is that truth, lived out practically by the church, which gives proof that these things really are true.

If Timothy immerses himself in the gospel, if he immerses himself in the truth, if he practices these things, then he will grow. That’s how God designed it to work. And as he grows, as he lives out the truth he believes, other people will see that. And when he preaches the Word to them, they won’t merely have the subjective experience of the Spirit to back up their beliefs (which is already enough); they will have the living proof in front of them of what that truth can do. 

In other words, the two greatest tools at Timothy’s disposal to combat these false teachers are the gospel and his own life. The people in his church will hear trustworthy truths being proclaimed by a man who has proven himself trustworthy. So when opposition comes, when false teachers come and try to dissuade them or distract them from the truth of the gospel, they will know whom to listen to, whose words carry more weight. Persist in this, for by so doing you will save both yourself and your hearers. Our two greatest weapons against false teaching are the gospel, and our own lives, changed by that gospel. We have his Word; we have the Spirit; we need nothing else.

Conclusion

I’d like to say one last thing, to those here who may not be Christians. I understand that everything I have said today, everything that Paul says in this passage, is geared toward Christians—those who already believe the gospel. And I understand that some of you may hesitate to believe any of this, specifically because you have seen a wide gap between what some Christians say they believe and the way they live. I wouldn’t for a moment try to deny that this happens, and that it happens in the best of us. 

But just consider this: why do you think Paul says this to Timothy? Why bother telling him over and over again to hold fast to what is true, and to live what he believes? Because he knows it’s going to be hard. Because he knows Timothy will make mistakes. Because he knows Timothy will sometimes be tempted to act hypocritically. He reminds Timothy to do these things, not as a way of saying that Christians will always do a great job, but precisely because Christians won’t do a good job, and they’ll need help.

We are all hypocrites. None of us perfectly lives everything we believe. The difference for Christians is that they are no longer required to be perfect. That weight is off of our shoulders. Christ was perfect for us; he was punished for our imperfections; so now, free from the condemnation which we deserve because of our hypocrisy, we can pursue him joyfully and willingly, we can grow in our ability to live what we believe—not as a way of saving ourselves, but as a response to the salvation we already have. 

Think about how freeing that would be! To know that our worth is not determined by how successful we are in being authentic! This is what the Bible is proposing. It is not saying, “If you believe this, you will be perfect.” It’s saying, “You’re not perfect! But Christ was perfect for you. HERE’s the ideal, and you’re HERE—but his sacrifice is always big enough to fill that gap. So in that freedom, live what you believe. When you fall, pick yourself up, thank him for his faithfulness to forgive, and keep on living what you believe.” This is the call of the gospel. This is how we are changed. And you are invited to believe it and pursue it, every bit as much as we are. 

1 Tim 12

Slaves and Their Beloved Masters

(1 Timothy 6.1-2)

Jason Procopio

It’s good to be back—last weekend I was in Portland, Oregon visiting some churches, trying to raise additional support for our church plant here. And two things struck me as I was sitting there, surrounded by men and women I had never seen, who were praying and singing to Jesus alongside me. The first was that you all had done exactly the same thing just a few hours previous (Portland is nine hours behind Paris). The second was that all of those people surrounding me, whom I’d never met, were family—they are every bit as much my brothers, my sisters, as you all are. And though I don’t know them all now, I will have an eternity to grow to know them all.

Of course this was on my mind, in part, because of what we’ve been seeing these last few weeks in 1 Timothy. Paul begins chapter 5 by saying (v. 1-2), Do not rebuke an older man but encourage him as you would a father, younger men as brothers, 2 older women as mothers, younger women as sisters, in all purity. He’s reminding Timothy of what the church really is: the family of God. 

Christ lived, died and was raised to reconcile us with the Father, so that he may adopt us as his children. Through Christ, we are no longer enemies of God, we are no longer outside of the province of his promises, but we are citizens of heaven, members of the household of God—which means that we are all brothers and sisters, God’s adopted children. 

Often we still base our love for others on their “lovability”—we love those who are lovable, but for those who give us a hard time, we don’t give them too much thought. But unity with Christ means unity with the church—you can’t have one without the other! As John says in 1 John 3.14, We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brothers. 

So Christ died and was raised to build a household, a family of God which transcends cultural and racial boundaries; the love that we have for other Christians is a familial love—and this familial love produces radical changes in our relationships. These transformed relationships are the focus of what Paul’s been saying all throughout chapter 5—in v. 3-16, Paul talks about widows in the church as the church’s mothers, or her sisters; so Paul calls the church to provide financial support and protection for these widows. Then in v. 17-25, he talks about elders: the familial love produced in the church for Christians extends to the church’s leaders as well, so Paul calls the church to provide materially for the elders, to respect them and to lovingly hold them accountable for their actions (as any loving family does).

Up to now, the transformed relationships Paul has described are perhaps a bit extreme for some, but they are not necessarily surprising—most people can see how it would be good for a church to provide for a widow in that church, if she had no other means to provide for herself; most people can see why a church should pay their pastor, why they should respect him and hold him accountable. But chances are good that we still don’t entirely grasp just how deep these transformed relationships go; we may still imagine that there must be a limit to the unity to which he calls us. So in order to dispel that idea, and to show us just how radically different our relationships to one another should be, Paul gives an example which is off-the-charts extreme. It is, in essence, the most difficult context imaginable in which to show one brother’s unity to another: the context of slavery—and particularly, a context in which a Christian slave works for a Christian master. I understand that the title of this message—“Slaves and Their Beloved Masters”—could be shocking to some; and that is exactly the point. Paul presents us here with a profoundly shocking situation, to drive home to us the depth of change that the gospel is meant to produce in us.

1) Slaves and Masters (v. 1)

Now, because this context is unthinkable for most of us (and rightly so), we need to do a little homework. This letter to Timothy was written in the mid-first century A.D. We’re not exactly sure where Paul was when he wrote it, but Paul is writing to Timothy in Ephesus, which was still under the rule of the Roman Empire. This setting is very important, because it will help us see why Paul writes the way he does. Slavery was not merely present in Greco-Roman society—it was deeply engrained in the culture itself. All wealthy people had slaves, sometimes hundreds of them; they were considered essential to society itself, for they were the laborers—they were not merely domestic servants, but farmhands, “clerks, craftsmen, teachers, soldiers and managers.” John Stott puts it this way: “It is believed that there were more than fifty million of them in the Empire, including one third of the inhabitants of Rome. In consequence, to dismantle slavery all at once would have brought about the collapse of society.”

This is, of course, a big problem for society, because slavery undermines a person’s very value as a human being. And if the Bible said nothing about this, we would have every reason to throw this book away as fraudulent. But it does—for example, look at the way Paul describes slavery in v. 1: Let all who are under a yoke as bondservants… Yokes are made for animals—for horses, cows, and oxen. With a couple of rare exceptions, this image of a yoke is a profoundly negative image when applied to a human being, an image which speaks of oppression. In addition, elsewhere in the Bible, Paul and the other biblical writers speak at great length about the fact that all human beings are created in the image of God and thus are to be cherished and cared for as image-bearers of God. If one takes all that the Bible says about humanity and applies it to this subject, it is clear as a bell that slavery undermines everything we are as humans. 

But these things take a lot of time to be fully realized; if Jesus or the apostles had attacked every unfair or inhuman institution set up by sinful men, the very society in which they ministered would have fallen into anarchy. (Indeed, perhaps the most inhuman institution of them all, crucifixion, was not only not abolished at the time, but the means by which Christ accomplished his greatest work!) The maintenance of some order in society was necessary for the gospel to go forward (which is, in part, why Paul told Timothy to have the church pray for the governing authorities in chapter 2). In other words, God is never in a hurry; he knew perfectly well that those areas in which the gospel went forward would be the first to do away with slavery eventually, because of what the gospel says about our value as human beings.

In the meantime, however, slavery was still omnipresent in Ephesus—so Paul uses the example of slavery to show to what extent the gospel changes our relationships with those outside the church, and with one another. V. 1: Let all who are under a yoke as bondservants regard their own masters as worthy of all honor, so that the name of God and the teaching may not be reviled. 

Paul gives a blanket statement here—this should be the attitude of Christian slaves in general toward their masters in general: they should not only not resist their masters or revile them but regard [them] as worthy of all honor. Now why is that? Why does Paul say Christian slaves should honor their masters? He gives the answer: so that the name of God and the teaching may not be reviled. 

Like I said, at the time that Paul wrote this letter, slavery was an institution which was practically unquestioned, and in which slaves had absolutely no recourse to fight back—they had no one to call on, no one to come and fight for their cause alongside them. Their only means of “fighting back” (so to speak) was to disrespect their masters, to work less well because their work was unfair.

But, Paul says, the gospel should so reorient our thinking that no one who understands the gospel—even in the worst situation imaginable—is thinking of himself, but of Christ. The Christian’s top priority, once he knows Christ and is saved by Christ, is no longer his own happiness or well-being, but the establishment of God’s kingdom on earth through the spread of the gospel. A Christian who understands the gospel—even in the worst situation imaginable—is not thinking of himself, but of others…even if those “others” are cruel. I know this sounds harsh, but think about the attitude our Lord displayed toward those who hated him, who were cruel to him, who reviled and abused him. As Isaiah prophesied of Christ (Isaiah 53.7), He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth. He made himself nothing, suffering for the good of his enemies. In this scenario, we were the enemies, we were the abusers, and he made himself nothing so that we might know him.

By the same token, in this context, at this time, a Christian slave who dishonored his master because of the unfairness of his slavery not only poorly reflected Christ’s attitude toward abuse, but also toward those who were in positions of authority over him. Christ submitted to those in authority over him, even if their authority was temporary and voluntarily given. He submitted to Pilate, by allowing him to send him to the cross. He submitted to his own mother at the wedding at Cana (and, surely, at many other points in his life). And ultimately, he submitted to God the Father, by drinking the cup of suffering that the Father had given him.

Paul is saying that at this point in history, a Christian slave who honors his earthly master despite the unfairness of that submission actually reflects the gospel to his master. Precisely because it was so unthinkable, it bore a powerful witness to the name of God and the teaching of the gospel. In other words, a Christian slave’s submission to his master was, at this place and at this time, a powerful tool for evangelism, for the spread of the gospel. Let all who are under a yoke as bondservants regard their own masters as worthy of all honor, so that the name of God and the teaching may not be reviled.

2) Christian Slaves to Christian Masters (v. 2)

Now Paul turns to a slightly different situation, which we modern Westerners will find even more unthinkable: a situation in which a Christian slave may be subject to a master who is also a Christian. V. 2: Those who have believing masters must not be disrespectful on the ground that they are brothers; rather they must serve all the better since those who benefit by their good service are believers and beloved. This is unthinkable to us because we can’t imagine why any Christian would ever accept to own a slave! It is true that this is a dark point in the history of Christianity—we don’t understand why it took so long for some Christians to see the atrocity they were committing in owning slaves, even if they treated them well. (And indeed, it took a long time: some absolutely solid Christians such as Jonathan Edwards, as late as the 18th century, owned slaves.) 

But again, it’s important to remember the context. Slavery was not even remotely questioned at the time; it was an aspect of society that was so ingrained in the culture that no one thought twice about it. Christianity was still gaining traction; it was far from the main religion at this time. So it is easy to imagine the situation Paul presents here. What are these men to do, if a slave who is a Christian discovers that his master has become a Christian as well? 

The possibility that Paul mentions is that a slave would disrespect his master because his master is a Christian: Those who have believing masters must not be disrespectful on the ground that they are brothers… Why would a slave be more likely to disrespect his master on the ground that he is a brother? Well, what would you do, if you were this slave, and you discovered that your master was a brother? When I first moved to France there was a period during which I had to return to the United States for three months, while we waited for our marriage paperwork to come through in France. During those three months I needed a small job, just to have some spending money, and at the time my brother Jeremy (whom some of you know) was managing a local cinema. So he gave me a job. This was a strange experience for me, and not entirely comfortable. It’s not an easy thing to take orders from your kid brother. That’s not the kind of relational dynamic that you want to have with your brother. 

Now of course, this example is a far cry from what’s going on this text, and that’s why I gave it. If you think it would be difficult to be employed by your brother, imagine how difficult it would be to be a slave to your brother. The dynamic of that relationship would be nothing like that of a slave with an unbelieving master; and thus, if would be incredibly hard for a slave to continue submitting to this brother, in this position. So can you see now how huge what Paul is saying here is? He says that this slave shouldn’t only submit to his Christian master because he’s his master, but precisely because he is his brother. This is the crazy extent to which the gospel transforms the relationships Christians should have with one another. 

Now of course this situation is vastly different, but the principle is similar: were a slave’s master to become a Christian, the dynamic of their relationship would have changed; and thus, it would have been very difficult for a slave to continue submitting to this man as his master. Which is exactly why Paul says what he says—he says that this slave should not merely submit to his Christian master because he is his master, but precisely because he is a brother. 

A slave might want to fight back against the authority of his master, because he knows that his master is also subject to the Lord Jesus, and because the gospel tells this slave that he is worthy of respect, just as the master is. Now Paul has some choice words for Christian slaveowners elsewhere (notably in Ephesians 6), but here Paul is focusing on the slave, because he wants to show just how complete our transformation should be if we understand the gospel—he wants to give the most extreme example possible. So he says that a slave who disrespects his master because his master is a brother, and because this slave is worthy of respect, actually betrays a misunderstanding of the gospel. 

And here’s why (this is very important): the gospel does not entice us to consider what we deserve, but what we have already received in Christ. Seeing Christ’s generosity toward us, we are thankful and joyful; and thus we seek to show generosity to others. We were deserving of condemnation, and he was deserving of all praise and honor. And yet, what he did was exactly the opposite: he did not give us what we deserved, and he did not seek to obtain from us what he deserved. Rather, he took on himself the punishment we deserved, and he gave us the treatment that he deserved. 

So even someone in such an extremely unfair situation as a slave should not seek what he deserves, but rather should seek to honor his master. And there are several reasons why. The gospel tells this slave that his master is made in the image of God, and thus deserves respect as an image-bearer of God. But in the case Paul hypothesizes here, it goes even deeper—this master is not only a human being made in the image of God; he is a believer, which means that he is a beloved brother. Those who have believing masters must not be disrespectful on the ground that they are brothers; rather they must serve all the better since those who benefit by their good service are believers and beloved.

The master is a believer, which means that these two men share the common experience of salvation—they have both been saved by grace, through faith—and this common experience binds them to one another for all eternity: they are now brothers, and they always will be. But it goes even further than that—this master is not only a believer; he is also beloved. He is not just “some guy”; he is not just a master, not just an employer. He is his brother, and he is beloved. 

I have an unbelieving neighbor; let’s call him Julien. I am called to love Julien, because he is my neighbor, both literally and figuratively, and Christ tells me that I am to “love my neighbor as myself.” So to the best of my ability, I love Julien. But I have to say, I don’t love him in quite the same way I love my two brothers, Jeremy and Jared. In addition to the love Jeremy and Jared deserve as human beings, as image-bearers of God, there is a familial bond there. So to come back to that period where Jeremy was my employer: in that situation, I was called to show him, in my work, the respect he deserves as a human being made in the image of God. But there was something else driving me in the way I did my work, and that was the fact that he is my brother, and I love him. So if I love him, I will work even harder to do my work admirably and to serve him well. 

3) Christ’s Love and Ours

Which is exactly the point Paul is trying to make—he is not mainly making a point about slavery, but rather he is illustrating the transformation which the gospel produces in the relationships Christians have, first, with those outside the church. We have a mission towards those who do not know Jesus Christ—and the way we react toward those who mistreat us will have an impact on the way they see Jesus; our reaction to injustice will go a long way toward convincing others of the truth of the gospel. Let all who are under a yoke as bondservants regard their own masters as worthy of all honor, so that the name of God and the teaching may not be reviled.

The gospel will also transform the relationships we Christians have with one another. As children of God, we share not only the common experience of knowing and loving and being saved by Jesus Christ; we also share a familial bond which will last for all of eternity. And this knowledge should influence every relationship we have with our brothers and sisters in Christ—even the most conflictual. It should transform all of the relationships the children of God have with one another, in such an incredibly radical way that even a slave would accept to not disdain his Christian master, but to show him all the more respect because he is a brother.

So let me ask you an honest question, and I want you to think about it honestly. When you come to church, when you engage in a conversation with your brother or your sister, when you knowingly engage in that relationship… Why do you do it? What do you hope to get out of it? What do you hope to give, and why? Paul gave us an extreme instruction in this text, an instruction which is designed to make us see how deeply our relationships as children of God should be transformed by the gospel. So given what he says here, when we engage with other believers, the first question on our lips should never be, “What good is this relationship doing me?” but rather, “Who do I have here, in front of me?” This is not simply “another Christian.” This is not a stranger—even if we’ve never met. This is my brother, this is my sister. And they will always be my brother, and my sister.

There is one simple fact that our entire lives as Christians are based on, one fact that is the reason why we come together to worship: Christ took on himself the wrath that he did not deserve, in order to give us the honor we do not deserve. Often we subconsciously rebel against those situations which we deem unfair or unjust—but thank God he did not give us what was fair or just! If God had been fair, we would stand condemned. God’s justice was manifested, but not by giving us what was just. Rather, his justice was placed on the shoulders of his Son—justice was done, but we could not have endured it; so Christ took justice on himself. He lived the life we should have lived; and he suffered and died the death that we deserve. He did not give us what was fair, but miraculously worked out his justice in the person of his Son.

And the more we realize that reality, the more we are changed by it. The more we realize Christ’s compassion on us (though we do not deserve it), the more we are driven to show compassion to others (though they do not deserve it). The more we realize how profoundly he has loved us and united us to himself, the more deeply we love those brothers and sisters to whom he has united us. You can’t have Christ without Christians—if we love him, we love his children.