CHURCH HISTORY: AD 100 thru AD 300

NB: For readers who missed it, I suggest going back to review my setup to this section on church history to know about my disclaimers. For the graphics used in this post, the timelines are not to scale, and the dates represented are not intended to be exact. They are meant to be visual aids for understanding the larger conversation.

We left off with that repeated question: What happened? Many students ask me this question, not just in reference to the history of Christendom, but in reference to our Judaic roots. We come from an incredibly Jewish story, following a Jewish rabbi and his Jewish talmidim. How did we become so separated from our Jewish foundation?

There are many in scholarship who weigh in on these opinions. From a historically respectable perspective, I have found two opinions to be most plausible (based on what we know), and one of those opinions I hold personally.

The first opinion is based on an understanding of a much more defined schism between the Jewish and Gentile Church (read: Paul and James). As we discussed before, I don’t miss the undeniable tension between the Church in Jerusalem and the Church of Asia, but I also hold to the record given to us in the book of Acts and believe the Apostolic leaders were able to come to an agreement and mutual understanding (binding and loosing, if you will, as described in the records of Acts 15 and elsewhere). This option believes that this Christian movement, which began in Jewish rank and order, was much more bent on the proclamation of their subversive “gospel” and this created unwanted (especially in Asia) political tension. The Jewish Exception outlawed (in part) aggressive proselytization, and this new Jesus movement was challenging that status quo and upsetting the empire. This theory proposes the Jewish religion jettisons its Jesus following believers, who are mostly Gentile in nature. 

There are certainly pieces in history to support this theory, but I don’t think this is what we actually see happening, especially in light of recent scholarship. The late David Flusser suggested decades ago that early Christianity was predominantly a Jewish movement that didn’t see such internal tensions until much later. One of the largest criticisms of his theory was the lack of evidence for Jews and Gentiles worshipping together. In the last twenty years, as archaeological efforts have increased in modern Turkey (biblical Asia and Asia Minor), we are finding more and more evidence to suggest Flusser was correct.

So instead, I cling to the theory that the schism happened later, just after the turn of the century. When Trajan and later Hadrian were emperors, they led some of the most aggressive (although maybe not the most brutal) persecutions of the Jews. Historians have long wondered why the target of these persecutions seemed to have such a Jewish focus. The Jews weren’t the largest imperial threat to Roman power — it would seem the Christians were. Many have suggested (rightly so, in my opinion) that the Christians were in fact so Jewish that they were seen as an indistinguishable part of Judaism.

From what little pieces of history we have, and though most of Judaism originally stood behind their Gentile converts and theosabes (except in those rare “Synagogue of Satan” places), these same Gentiles seemed to turn their backs on their Jewish brothers and sisters when Rome came looking to extinguish Judaism. Choosing to fall back on their uncircumcised roots, they left their Jewish counterparts out to dry and created a schism that we never healed. Following the Hadrianic persecution and the Bar Kochba revolt, this helps explain why the writings of the early church are so anti-semitic in their teachings (just one or two generations removed from the apostles).

But this schism will have more than relational implications. Now that the Jews are gone, this Jesus-following body has lost their connection to the Text. They no longer have walking libraries of Torah and Jewish narrative to teach and lead them. The moment this anchor was pulled up, Gentiles were left to lean on the only thing they knew intimately. Unfortunately, the worldview that dominated the Hellenistic culture was Gnosticism (you may want to review our discussion on Colossians).

This conflicting worldview led to all kinds of corrupted teachings and beliefs (even if we assume the presence of New Testament writings and the Didache, the early church’s manual for passing on the Apostle’s teaching to new converts). Almost immediately, there were arguments for the rejections of different writings. A man by the name of Marcion was arguing for the rejection of the Tanakh and most of the gospels, with a full acceptance of the letters from Paul, much of the gospel of Luke, and some other letters. If that sounds familiar, it’s because much of evangelical Christianity continues to approach the New Testament in the same way. Marcion was eventually declared a heretic and his arguments rejected, but he had brought up the need for this Gentile movement to declare which teachings would be authoritative, and the movement went forward.

From this we received the Muratorian Canon, which is what our New Testament is based on. This canon had only 22 of the 27 letters in it, and the larger conversation surrounding it would later lead to the reordering of the Hebrew Scriptures for Christians (with an undeniable anti-semitic bent).

This unfortunate new world probably would have brought other issues to the table had the Gentile Christian movement not been at odds with the empire of Rome. As they continued to deal with the persecution that came and left and came and left, they were forced to bind together and cling to the essentials for the survival of their faith. It is a dark shame that we weren’t able to do this with the company and leadership provided by our Jewish brothers and sisters. We will be left to wonder what could have been. Would the “Age to Come” have arrived and Jesus’s return been realized, just as the writers of the New Testament were claiming? Maybe so.

For now, they run for their lives. They stand and they die. But it’s all about to change.

1 JOHN: Love and Truth

We’ve mentioned before that John moved to biblical Asia to help lead the growing church in the larger Greco-Roman world. Known as the “Pastor to Asia,” John was an expert (as we’ve seen in his gospel) in talking to the audience in Asia and Asia Minor. We have record in the writings of Polycarp (John’s disciple) that the churches in Asia are using this letter, which is being circulated among them.

It could be that this letter is written in order to combat a Gnostic heresy similar to what we studied in the book of Colossians. Known as “Docetism” — a belief that argued against the humanity of Jesus and claimed he never really came in the flesh — there are many statements in John’s first letter that would make sense if he’s arguing for a physical incarnation and a Jesus who took on flesh.

Nevertheless, my favorite part of the letter of 1 John is his insistence on loving each other. In 1, 2, and 3 John, one of the themes you can see running through these letters is the theme of love and truth, and it’s never stronger than in 1 John.

The letter starts with what sounds like an Essene teaching. In the Dead Sea Scrolls, we found references to teachings of the Essenes that taught about the “sons of light” and the “sons of darkness.” To walk in obedience to God’s path and God’s way was to walk in the light; to oppose God’s ways was to be a “son of darkness.” We previously explored the strong connections to the Essenes that Jesus may have had, and it’s hard to miss the possibility here in the first chapter:

This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.

In continued Essene-like fashion, the letter goes on to speak about how one can discern between people who walk in the light and those who do not. Whoever claims to follow Jesus would live life the way Jesus lived life. This would make sense if we remember studying what it meant to follow a rabbi.

We know that we have come to know him if we keep his commands. Whoever says, “I know him,” but does not do what he commands is a liar, and the truth is not in that person. But if anyone obeys his word, love for God is truly made complete in them. This is how we know we are in him: Whoever claims to live in him must live as Jesus did.

This entire conversation raises a question of John: How did Jesus walk, and what is the defining characteristic of being true to the way of Jesus?

Anyone who claims to be in the light but hates a brother or sister is still in the darkness. Anyone who loves their brother and sister lives in the light, and there is nothing in them to make them stumble. But anyone who hates a brother or sister is in the darkness and walks around in the darkness. They do not know where they are going, because the darkness has blinded them.

John seems to be very clear on the issue of what it means to be a son of light. To walk in the way of God, as seen in the life and teachings of Jesus, is to be a person who loves. If you do not love, you do not walk in the light. As if this couldn’t be more clear, John won’t let this idea go — the entire third chapter revolves around this argument. We continue to see this argument all the way into the fourth chapter:

God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world we are like Jesus. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.We love because he first loved us.  

Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen. And he has given us this command: Anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister.

It has often been said in the world I minister in that we have to maintain a balance between love and truth. We have to be loving, but we cannot give up on truth. John, I believe, would suggest we have that conversation entirely backwards. If you are not loving, then what you have is not true — period. Love is what makes it true. In a world that wants to demand we hold to truth in order to show the world what God is like, we simply need to read more of chapter 4:

Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.

The way we can show the world an accurate, true picture of what God looks like, is to love. We can have all the theology and doctrine imaginable — truth stacked up in books — yet if we don’t have love, John says it’s a lie. This might sound a lot like Paul who claimed that if we have all knowledge, but don’t have love, we are nothing more than “a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.”

Whoever claims to be in Him must walk as Jesus walked. Above all else, Jesus loved. May we strive to do the same.

1 PETER: Living Stones and a Spiritual House

We come to a letter I feel I have so much yet to learn about. The Apostle Peter writes two epistles that end up in our New Testament canon and I always have to step back and catch my breath before I read them. When we read 1 and 2 Peter, we are reading the late writings of the apostolic leader of the early church. If I was honest, I would say the letters of Peter occupy the same place in my mind where they sit in the New Testament — almost in obscurity, toward the back. While I grew up very acquainted with the works and writings of Paul, the books of Peter were used significantly less often. If James is the leader of the Jewish church in Jerusalem, and if John is the Pastor to Asia, then when I read Peter, I am reading the head of this early apostolic movement. But more on that later.

Peter addresses those who are chosen by God to carry our their calling in the region of “Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia”:

Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ,

To God’s elect, exiles scattered throughout the provinces of Pontus, Galatia,Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia, who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, to be obedient to Jesus Christ and sprinkled with his blood:

Grace and peace be yours in abundance.

The region of Cappadocia

On one hand, this is a wide audience that represents the Greco-Asian church spreading readily throughout the Roman empire. But as we’ve discussed before, some of those places aren’t exactly “on the way” through Asia. Places like Galatia are far enough off the beaten path that Rome rarely finds a large presence there. Another place mentioned is even more so — Cappadocia. The region of Cappadocia was where people went in order to escape or hide. Filled with underground cities carved into the soft rock (called “toofa”), this was a place for the persecuted.

If Peter was writing this letter toward the end of his life, it’s entirely probable that the church finds itself under some of the earliest persecutions of the Roman world under emperors like Nero. Thousands of people would flee to a region like Galatia and Cappadocia to escape the cultural torrent swirling around them. While many believers chose to stay, and often die, in the face of persecution (in places like Asia, also mentioned in Peter’s address), others heeded the word of their Rabbi Jesus: “When you are persecuted in one place, flee to another.”

This seems to be the cultural context of Peter’s letter. He speaks about hope. He speaks about the need to submit to rulers and masters when the temptation is to fight back and stick up for their own rights. He speaks of suffering — a lot. Consider some of the passages we find in 1 Peter:

Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble. Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult. On the contrary, repay evil with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing. For,

“Whoever would love life
    and see good days
must keep their tongue from evil
    and their lips from deceitful speech.
They must turn from evil and do good;
    they must seek peace and pursue it.
For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous
    and his ears are attentive to their prayer,
but the face of the Lord is against those who do evil.”

Who is going to harm you if you are eager to do good? But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed. “Do not fear their threats; do not be frightened.” But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander.

Unbelievably powerful words when one considers the likely context of this letter. Peter will also say this:

Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice inasmuch as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted because of the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests on you. If you suffer, it should not be as a murderer or thief or any other kind of criminal, or even as a meddler. However, if you suffer as a Christian, do not be ashamed, but praise God that you bear that name. For it is time for judgment to begin with God’s household; and if it begins with us, what will the outcome be for those who do not obey the gospel of God? And,

“If it is hard for the righteous to be saved,
    what will become of the ungodly and the sinner?”

So then, those who suffer according to God’s will should commit themselves to their faithful Creator and continue to do good.

But if we go back to the beginning of the letter, we might find some of the reasons Peter is able to say these things. Peter said God was taking His chosen people and building them into a “spiritual house” (which is how early Jews would have spoken about the Temple). In a similar fashion to Paul, who said that we (plural) are the temple (singular) of the Holy Spirit, Peter claims we are all living stones, chosen and quarried by God to be built into a spiritual house. Central to Peter’s encouragement of the early believers is a belief that the way they persevere and overcome — together — tells a story and shows the world what their God is like. If this is true, then in the midst of the persecution, there is incredible hope — hope that the world might know more clearly the love and faithfulness of God.

I think there are so many things we can learn from this letter and see paralleled in our own culture. I am not saying we live in a culture of persecution. I find the “culture wars” of our day to be a disgusting spit in the face of people who actually know what persecution looks like. Quite simply, we are not a persecuted people, no matter how we perceive the culture around us (and this is not speaking of individuals, but as a people group; specifically American Christians). Our “trials” cannot lay a finger on the things suffered by those early Christians in places like Cappadocia.

And yet, I do believe their example is one that directly applies to so many of the conversations we wrestle with today. As we continue to move away from a Christian world to a “post-Christian” world (something I personally do not mourn in the least), we must consider what our role to play in the world is. How do we tell the story of our Jesus? Do we fight back? Do we stand up for our rights?

Or do we persist in doing good, no matter what the future brings or how the world reacts? Do we overturn the systems of oppression and injustice and choose forgiveness, love, and compassion at our own expense? This is what leads to my final observation.

It’s interesting to consider the life journey and transformation of Peter. The same Peter who wrote this letter had decades before declared he would take his sword and die for his rabbi. He claimed he would never disown him and never forsake him. Then, after learning the humiliating taste of dishonor, Peter experienced the light of hope and resurrection. He experienced forgiveness. Peter finds a new identity leading the church of Christ in a way that looks much different than the road he wanted to choose in the gospels. This is a Peter who has been changed.

I say all of this because there is hope for a guy like me. There is hope for someone like you, as well. We can still choose the way of grace and peace; we can still choose to be changed by a living hope.

JAMES: Mitzvoth

So then we come to the book of James. In a lot of ways, we’ve done all the intro work for James back in Galatians. While I’m not going to spend all my time trying to parse the different perspectives and details on exactly who the author is — by that I mean which James wrote the book — I am going to work off of the generally accepted view that the author of James is one of the members of the triumvirate — Peter, James, and John — who followed Jesus around. As we mentioned in the Galatians series, I believe this is also the “brother” of Jesus.

James was the leader of what is sometimes called the “Jewish church” in Jerusalem. As Peter had charge over the entire Christian movement, church history tells us (also corroborated by the Text) James stayed to oversee the church in Jerusalem. This is where the early church had its beginning — and a very Jewish beginning it was. As the church got pushed out, relocated its “headquarters” to Antioch, and as Paul began to spread this movement into the Greco-Asian world of the Greeks (which would eventually be led by John, thus giving us the roles of the “three pillars,” Peter, James, and John), James took up the mantle of leading this very Jewish church centered in Jerusalem.

As we mentioned before, most progressive scholarship is going to say there was massive disagreement (even evident in the New Testament) between James and Paul. In fact, many will say they were enemies and there were two different “churches” — the Jewish church in Jerusalem (led by James) and the Gentile church in Asia and Asia Minor (led by Paul). I disagree with this assessment based on the witness of Luke in the book of Acts (and Paul in Galatians). I do believe James probably leaned a different direction than Paul, but I also believe the early church led them to a union that preserved the church of the New Testament.

So why bother you with all these details? Because this is essential to understanding the context of the letter from James.

People have, for centuries, tried to bring synergy to what appear to be opposing arguments from Paul and James about the role of obedience and faith. While some claim no contradiction exists, it certainly seems like James is trying to “correct” Paul’s arguments about justification by faith.

However, realizing James is playing a role as the leader of the Jewish church in Jerusalem is incredibly helpful. Consider the opening to the letter:

James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ,To the twelve tribes scattered among the nations:Greetings.

James writes to “the twelve tribes scattered among the nations.” This is clearly a reference to a strictly Jewish audience in the world of Asia and Asia Minor. It appears to me that James is wanting to speak as the Jewish leader of a Jewish church to the Jewish participants in a rapidly changing world. James is not trying to usurp Paul’s authority; James it trying to be who God has called him to be and let Paul do what God has called him to do.

James is writing to Jews about what it means to live in a Gentile culture and follow Jesus.

This matters, because when James talks about “works” or “deeds” (also known as the mitzvoth to Jews), he is not talking about miqsat ma’asay haTorah like Paul was. When Paul talked to a Gentile church about “works of the law,” he was referring to the parts of the law that make you Jewish. But for Jews, this part of the law was never up for debate. In the New Testament, the Jews never argue about whether Jews should follow the Law. This is never a question! What they argue about was whether or not Gentiles would follow the Law.

What this means is when James talks about “works” and “deeds,” James is talking about obedience.

The letter of James is written to plead with a Jewish presence in Asia and Asia Minor not to lose their distinctiveness amidst a bunch of Gentiles who live with a freedom that Jews are not called to — at least not in the same way Gentiles are. Consider how this would affect the way the audience reads the central passage of James:

What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? 

Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.

But someone will say, “You have faith; I have deeds.”

Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by my deeds. You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that—and shudder.

You foolish person, do you want evidence that faith without deeds is useless? Was not our father Abraham considered righteous for what he did when he offered his son Isaac on the altar? You see that his faith and his actions were working together, and his faith was made complete by what he did. And the scripture was fulfilled that says, “Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness,” and he was called God’s friend. You see that a person is considered righteous by what they do and not by faith alone.

In the same way, was not even Rahab the prostitute considered righteous for what she did when she gave lodging to the spies and sent them off in a different direction? As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without deeds is dead.

Considering the difference between Paul and James when it comes to their definition of “works/deeds” is critical to wrestling with James’s message. I also find the reference to Rahab (a Gentile prostitute) at the end of this passage to be interesting. I believe James is insinuating that this truth is true for all of them — Jew and Gentile alike.

While I don’t believe James is usurping Paul’s message of faith and justification, I do believe James is offering his Jewish perspective to the conversation to make sure this early church doesn’t lose its distinctiveness.

As we consider this letter, may we also be moved to remember that words mean very little unless they are incarnated in our actions. May this be true in all of us — Jew and Gentile

PHILEMON: Faith Works

This brings us to the last of what are traditionally considered Paul’s letters. Paul writes a short letter to Philemon about a runaway slave named Onesimus. This short, often under-appreciated letter has actually become one of my favorites. It really helps us fill in some gaps in history and it’s neat to read such a personal correspondence.

First, there are so many things to speculate about (for the enjoyment of Bible study). Church tradition holds that Paul’s parents were manumitted slaves. To be manumitted meant you had won such favor with your master that he purchased your freedom. The honor was so great that Roman citizenship was given to your children (although never to you). This would certainly explain how Paul was “born a citizen,” as he describes in the book of Acts.

I also love to speculate about the background of Onesimus. In the ancient Roman empire, there was a profession of people who wandered about in the fields of exposed babies (a horrid practice, otherwise known as sublatus) and looked for children who were physically able and could be raised to be sold as slaves. There was a Greek physician named Soranos who wrote a work titled How to Recognize a Child Worth Raising that instructed people in this profession. I find it interesting that Onesimus has a Greek name that means “useful.” It strikes me as a name that might be given to such a child who was raised to be a slave. Much could be written about this, but I digress.

Second, there is certainly an air of humor in the letter to Philemon. Almost every scholar I’m aware of and every Bible teacher I’ve heard teach on Philemon seems to recognize that the letter is drenched in Greek, “over-the-top” sarcasm. Paul is writing this tongue-in-cheek letter to Philemon and laying it on really thick that he “owes [Paul] his very life” and that even though he could command him to do the right thing, Paul is confident Philemon will go above and beyond the call of faith. Not to mention that this letter is addressed to the entire congregation at Colossae, therefore forcing Philemon to read the correspondence publicly and give his answer to everyone listening. This leads to my third observation:

There is a very Jewish conversation lying behind the plea of Paul’s letter to Philemon. In the Jewish world of the first century, there was a larger argument about why a person obeys the law; it was an argument between what was called “law works” and “faith works.”

One of the best ways to understand this argument in our culture is to consider the speed limit. Some people may obey the speed limit because they would rather not get a ticket. If they don’t speed, they are not punished. This understanding would be called “law works.”

Of course, there might be others who follow the speed limit because they believe that ultimately it's just the right thing to do. It keeps everybody safe, maintains order, and is more efficient for your car. They would argue that things simply go better when you follow the rule. This understanding was called “faith works.”

It’s worth pausing for a moment to ask ourselves how we “New Testament believers” approach the idea of obedience.

Really.

Because Paul is quite a believer in “faith works” — so much so that he would jokingly reference the idea to a fellow brother.

Your love has given me great joy and encouragement, because you, brother, have refreshed the hearts of the Lord’s people.

Therefore, although in Christ I could be bold and order you to do what you ought to do, yet I prefer to appeal to you on the basis of love. It is as none other than Paul—an old man and now also a prisoner of Christ Jesus—that I appeal to you for my son Onesimus, who became my son while I was in chains. Formerly he was useless to you, but now he has become useful both to you and to me.

Paul appeals to Philemon on the basis of love to do the right thing. Sarcastically laying on “good-humored guilt and shame,” Paul brings to mind his old age and his fondness of Onesimus.

I have always found my understanding of this letter a grand reminder of the lightness that we should carry in our walk of faith. The way we should be committed to the right things is so much so that we are able to smile and elbow our neighbor about why we do what we do, always having a profound belief that the way of Jesus truly is the best way to live. Whether or not we set people free from their debts and mistakes shouldn’t really be an argument for people who follow Jesus. And helping people see they are a true member of God’s household is always a privilege and a joy.

PASTORAL EPISTLES: Tough Titus

We don’t know a whole lot about the story of Titus, but what we can glean from the Text, history, and tradition seems to stand in contrast to Timothy. Titus is a gentile, an uncircumcised convert from Antioch who is stationed on the small island of Crete. Paul also opens his letter to Titus by calling him a true son of their common faith, and then speaks of this assignment on Crete.

The reason I left you in Crete was that you might put in order what was left unfinished and appoint elders in every town, as I directed you. An elder must be blameless, faithful to his wife, a man whose children believe and are not open to the charge of being wild and disobedient. Since an overseer manages God’s household, he must be blameless—not overbearing, not quick-tempered, not given to drunkenness, not violent, not pursuing dishonest gain. Rather, he must be hospitable, one who loves what is good, who is self-controlled, upright, holy and disciplined. He must hold firmly to the trustworthy message as it has been taught, so that he can encourage others by sound doctrine and refute those who oppose it.

Titus has a tough job on Crete. Consider the next words from Paul in the letter:

For there are many rebellious people, full of meaningless talk and deception, especially those of the circumcision group. They must be silenced, because they are disrupting whole households by teaching things they ought not to teach—and that for the sake of dishonest gain. One of Crete’s own prophets has said it: “Cretans are always liars, evil brutes, lazy gluttons.” This saying is true. Therefore rebuke them sharply, so that they will be sound in the faith and will pay no attention to Jewish myths or to the merely human commands of those who reject the truth.

The striking lesson for me is Paul’s actions in the assignments of his disciples. According to our study, Paul has raised up two (among others) disciples. I have always called these two Tough Titus and Timid Timothy. Remember, it was Timothy who was told not to let anyone look down on him because he was young. Paul also writes to Timothy:

For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands. For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline. So do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord or of me his prisoner. Rather, join with me in suffering for the gospel, by the power of God.

It sure seems to me that Timothy struggles, on some level, with timidity and confidence. Paul will need to station pastors at two different churches: Crete and Ephesus. He has two candidates: Tough Titus and Timid Timothy. Who do you post where? I understand some might say, “Put Tough Titus on Crete! They are a rough crowd!” Fine, but please don’t forget about Ephesus.

Ephesus will be the headquarters for the early church in Asia and Asia Minor. It’s considered to be the largest church in the first century. Depending on which scholar you are asking, the estimates for the population of first-century Ephesus will range from half a million to a million and a half people. This is the second largest city in the Roman empire, second only to Rome itself.

Crete is a tiny island. It’s a low risk, moderate reward situation. But Ephesus is a huge risk, high reward situation. At least by our standards.

But I am reminded that my standards aren’t always the measuring stick used in the Kingdom. While Timothy would have never been given the green light by many of our great church planting organizations, he was by Paul.

And Paul knows it won’t be easy; but he believes in Timothy.

I thank God, whom I serve, as my ancestors did, with a clear conscience, as night and day I constantly remember you in my prayers. Recalling your tears, I long to see you, so that I may be filled with joy. I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also.

For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands. For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline. So do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord or of me his prisoner. Rather, join with me in suffering for the gospel, by the power of God. He has saved us and called us to a holy life—not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time, but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our Savior, Christ Jesus, who has destroyed death and has brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. And of this gospel I was appointed a herald and an apostle and a teacher. That is why I am suffering as I am. Yet this is no cause for shame, because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until that day.

Later Paul will say:

You, however, know all about my teaching, my way of life, my purpose, faith, patience, love, endurance, persecutions, sufferings—what kinds of things happened to me in Antioch, Iconium and Lystra, the persecutions I endured. Yet the Lord rescued me from all of them. In fact, everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted, while evildoers and impostors will go from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived. But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have become convinced of, because you know those from whom you learned it, and how from infancy you have known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.

In the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who will judge the living and the dead, and in view of his appearing and his kingdom, I give you this charge: Preach the word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage—with great patience and careful instruction. For the time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths. But you, keep your head in all situations, endure hardship, do the work of an evangelist, discharge all the duties of your ministry.

I find myself inspired again and again by Paul’s call to Timothy. Leaving him in the largest church, struggling with confidence, Paul insists on his belief in Timid Timothy — a redeemed mumzer in Christ Jesus — and leaves him with this charge: Preach the Word.

May we be as bold to follow the instructions and actions of the Rabbi that came before us and his early followers.

PASTORAL EPISTLES: Timothy the Mumzer

** I find myself completely indebted to Ray VanderLaan for this post, which I learned during my time with him. You can find his own lesson in Volume 7 (Faith Lesson #3) of the "That the World May Know" teaching series produced by Focus on the Family.

The next three letters of Paul are what we often call “pastoral epistles” — letters written from Paul to two pastors he discipled and left at their respective posts. These letters are far more personal in nature (compared to the letters penned to churches), but this doesn’t mean they weren’t to be shared. Paul writes these correspondences in such a way that they would be shared with the elders, and then the churches at large.

These letters are particularly useful because they speak of ecclesiological matters and address issues of church order and what we might call polity. This is also what makes addressing these books more difficult. In a similar fashion to Leviticus, we can either address the book verse by verse or at a “macro” level. I will again choose the latter for the sake of the scope of this series. This will also serve us well because of the rampant disagreement within the church on the more specific issues of church polity. I have no desire to dodge the tough conversations, but I also have even less desire to miss some of the greater, more poetic, and compelling points of the stories that lie behind these letters.

A great case in point will be the story of Timothy.

We don’t actually meet Timothy in the letters that are penned to him personally; we meet him in the book of Acts as a young boy. We’re told that when Paul visits Lystra, he meets Timothy, a young boy whose mother is a Jew, but whose father is a Greek. This is included because of its incredible relevance to Timothy’s situation. In the first century, this situation makes Timothy a “mumzer” (or “mamzer”), a term used to refer to a child of illegitimate birth. The Torah proclaimed that a mumzer was not allowed to enter the assembly of God’s people. He was not allowed to be circumcised (hence his circumcision by Paul later in Acts) and not allowed to be a part of the community of the faith — especially in a town like Lystra, which sits on the edge of the same region and province we spoke of in the context of Galatians.

The unexcavated tel of Lystra

What’s interesting is that Paul is continually drawn back to Lystra. We mentioned before that Paul greatly diverted his course after the conversion of Sergius Paullus. He went north into the region of Galatia and made the same circuit more than once. The ruins of Lystra are incredibly reminiscent of the tel at Colossae; the small mound that sits in the middle of Turkey would be unidentified if it weren’t for a local farmer who plowed up a stone by the ruins that said, in essence, “Welcome to Lystra.” Like Colossae, the tel sits unexcavated and houses the ruins of a small, unimpressive town. Why is Paul being drawn back here?

Paul will eventually find his first disciple in Lystra. Paul will begin planting fewer churches and start making more disciples. Paul is beginning to look more and more like Jesus. Not only this, but just like his Rabbi Yeshua (Jesus), Paul will call those whom the world rejects to be his disciples. His first student will be a mumzer from Lystra named Timothy.

This story is one of the most moving in the New Testament. While it’s very difficult to capture the emotion this story packs, it’s heart wrenching to consider that this rejected loner of a child is approached by a student of the great Rabbi Gamaliel — now a student of Yeshua haMashiach — and hears the words lecha charai. “Come, follow me.”

The words of Paul will find all kinds of new meaning as you read his letters to Timothy.

Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the command of God our Savior and of Christ Jesus our hope, 

To Timothy my true son in the faith: 

Grace, mercy and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord. 

Timothy, my son, I am giving you this command in keeping with the prophecies once made about you, so that by recalling them you may fight the battle well, holding on to faith and a good conscience, which some have rejected and so have suffered shipwreck with regard to the faith. 

Command and teach these things. Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity. Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to preaching and to teaching. Do not neglect your gift, which was given you through prophecy when the body of elders laid their hands on you.

Be diligent in these matters; give yourself wholly to them, so that everyone may see your progress. Watch your life and doctrine closely. Persevere in them, because if you do, you will save both yourself and your hearers.

But you, man of God, flee from all this, and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses.

But before we draw conclusions about Timothy, it’s helpful to become acquainted with Titus.

1 THESSALONIANS: Parousia

Paul also pens two letters to the church in Thessalonica. There are plenty of commentaries that deal with the context of Thessalonica and, to be honest, I haven’t had the opportunity to study the context of Thessalonica as much as I would like. While I have heard different explanations for it, it would seem that the people of Thessalonica had a clear misunderstanding of the proper response to the “return” of Christ.

One thing that becomes abundantly clear (again, addressed in NT Wright’s work Surprised by Hope) is that the early believers had a definite understanding of Christ’s very close return. This may not be as far-fetched as it sounds to us from where we sit, but I’ll deal with that theology at some other point. At any rate, it is safe to say that early Christians in the Roman Empire believed they might see Christ’s return in their lifetime, or the lifetime of their children.

Apparently this had impacted the Thessalonian community in such a way that it led to their disengagement. If Christ was about to return and make the whole world right, why should we spend all of our time working? Paul addresses some of these misunderstandings by talking about the need for the believers in Thessalonica to work, for “the man who does not work, does not eat.” It is also to this world that Paul speaks of parousia.

Parousia is the Greek word we often translate as “second coming.” While this is actually a very accurate translation, the term is loaded with historical context we usually miss. These details can be found by studying NT Wright, Ethelbert Stauffer, the early church commentaries by Roland Worth, and others.

Parousia referred to the second coming of an emperor. In a Roman world that had experienced the havoc of multiple earthquakes (as we mentioned before), the emperor would make a visit to the city (you could think of how a modern-day leader might visit a disaster zone). After surveying the extent of the damage, the emperor would leave behind a large sum of money that the people of the city were to use to rebuild. Everyone knew the emperor would return one day and you would have to give an account for what you did with his deposit.

This return was called a parousia, and we know Thessalonica experienced at least two of them in the first century. According to historical record, there appear to be common themes experienced in any given Roman parousia.

The emperor would arrive to the sound of a loud trumpet. As soon as the lookout saw the emperor’s entourage (more like a small army) arriving in the distance, the call would go out. The city would not want to be caught with Caesar banging on their front door.

When the emperor arrived at the city, he would pay the obligatory respects to the dead. In the ruins of ancient Greco-Roman cities, I have always seen the graveyard just outside the main entrance to the city. It was their way of honoring the dead and those who had gone before them.

After the emperor had paid his respects, the people of the city would go out to meet him. This meeting was referred to in the Greek as eis apantesien. The goal is to go out from the city, meet the emperor with joy, and take him by the hand to show him the city and the great work that had been done — in his honor, of course.

Consider the context of the church in Thessalonica and the following words from 1 Thessalonians 4:

For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage one another with these words.

Paul describes the second coming of Jesus like the parousia of the emperor. To a church that is having a hard time understanding the need to engage in the work of the Kingdom (or physical labor, for that matter), Paul describes the second coming as aparousia, communicating to the people of Thessalonica that they have work to do, because God left them with a deposit and expected them to use it to restore and reconcile, heal and rebuild. In Paul’s picture, there is a trumpet sound, the dead in Christ rise first, and we are caught up to “eis apantesis” Jesus in the air.

The irony runs thick here, for the theology that loves to quote this verse as backing for the idea of the “rapture” is the same theology that commits the sin of the Thessalonians. Far too much Christian theology espouses an idea that we are all going to leave this place someday. If this is true, then our goal is to have as many people “on our team” as possible before “some glad morning, when this life is over…”

But this is the exact idea Paul is teaching against. Paul is not arguing for a disengaged theology; he is arguing for a theology of complete and urgent engagement. Jesus is going to come back. He left us with the deposit of the Holy Spirit, and we’re going to have to show him what we did with the place.

You see, we are caught up to meet Jesus in the air as he is “coming down from heaven” for his parousia.

To quote one of my favorite teachers, “I get worried that too many Christians are going to be on their way up and out of here as Jesus is coming down, and they’re going to pass in the air!”

This is not a theology of disembodied evacuation; it’s a theology of physical participation. 

May God remind us that we have work to do here — today. May He remind us that Jesus taught us to pray, “Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” May we look forward to the day when the trumpet might sound and we might go out (or up) to meet Jesus on his way down, in order to joyfully take him by the hand and show him around at the things we were able to accomplish with His help.

And when He shows up, I pray we might have something to show Him.

PHILIPPIANS: Joy

It has always been hard for me to believe Paul didn’t have favorites because of his letter to the church in Philippi. Compared to some of his other letters, the epistle to the Philippians reads like a gushing love letter to a group of his best friends. Paul has shown us his tough sides in some of his other correspondences. To the Galatians, he was astonished, perplexed, and furious. To the Corinthians, he was confrontational and prophetic, demanding his voice be heard as a voice amongst the apostles. But to the Philippians, Paul has nothing but joy in his heart.

I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

It is right for me to feel this way about all of you, since I have you in my heart and, whether I am in chains or defending and confirming the gospel, all of you share in God’s grace with me. God can testify how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus.

Paul seems to go in and out of praise and encouraging exhortation; Paul will let his joy spill over into a charge for the Philippians to keep being all God called them to be.

And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God.

Again, before the chapter is out, we find another round of praise and encouragement:

Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and God’s provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance. I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death.

More joy, followed by:

Whatever happens, conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ. Then, whether I come and see you or only hear about you in my absence, I will know that you stand firm in the one Spirit, striving together as one for the faith of the gospel without being frightened in any way by those who oppose you.

This exhortation flows into chapter 2, one of the better known passages of Philippians. Paul encourages them to have the mind and humility of Christ, who did not consider divinity something to be held onto, but was willing to become a servant. Paul encourages them to live lives that are worthy of such a master and imitate their teacher and Lord. He tells them to work out their salvation in fear and trembling and to do everything without grumbling and conceit. In a similar call to the one given to the Ephesians, Paul seems to be reminding them that if they don’t have love for each other, they will have very little to say to the world around them.

Paul then calls the church in Philippi to imitate him, as he’s asked so many of the other churches to do. He invites them to join him in rejoicing, no matter their circumstances. 

As far as the context to the church in Philippi, I am not aware of too many scholars who see the Philippian church as a huge and powerful body of believers. In fact, the Text would seem to suggest the opposite. This might not surprise us if we read about the church’s humble beginnings in the book of Acts. But it would appear that the body of believers here is small and possibly quite poor.

However, this does not mean they are a weak people. Consider Paul’s words in the last chapter:

I rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it. I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.

Yet it was good of you to share in my troubles. Moreover, as you Philippians know, in the early days of your acquaintance with the gospel, when I set out from Macedonia, not one church shared with me in the matter of giving and receiving, except you only; for even when I was in Thessalonica, you sent me aid more than once when I was in need. Not that I desire your gifts; what I desire is that more be credited to your account. I have received full payment and have more than enough. I am amply supplied, now that I have received from Epaphroditus the gifts you sent. They are a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God. And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.

More joy from the Apostle! Paul speaks to them about having little and finding contentment, and he seems to hint at their current position and his amazement at their willingness to help — even when they lack. He recalls how other churches struggled to support his work. Even wealthy churches like the one in Corinth (you might remember we got to hear the other side of that coin [no pun intended]) seemed to be unwilling to give. But this body of believers has shared out of their own provision more than once. Paul brims with appreciation and healthy pride in the way they understand the Kingdom. He prays God will pour out His blessing on them for how they have been willing to bless others.

In the midst of all the harsh words and tough exhortations in Paul’s letters, I have always found the letter to the Philippians encouraging. My prayer has often been that I would do my part and belong to a body of believers who stands on their shoulders well. As we read about in Hebrews, may we remember that “only with us will their work be made perfect.”