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

HEBREWS: Atonement 101

There’s one last conversation I would like to put on the table before we jettison the book of Hebrews: atonement. 

For many, the theology of atonement isn’t one that bothers them; they aren’t even aware there’s a “conversation” about it, and I hesitate to bring it up at all. But then I’m reminded of the other folks who have serious questions and I remember the importance and need to bring questions to the table. I know that years ago, I would have said atonement is at least the one thing all believers in Jesus understand clearly and believe in, but I have since come to realize this isn’t the case.

And I’m glad.

I’m glad because as I’ve continued to study the Bible and theology, I have found the way we talk about atonement alarming at times, to say the least. I was once in a church service where the teacher was telling a story about how his daughter had recently been harassed by a man at her workplace. Week after week, this person would make her uncomfortable and she would take great measures to avoid him. On a family excursion out of town, coincidentally, they ran into the individual at a department store. The preacher explained how he put his daughter behind him and stood in front of her, shielding her from the individual’s view, so when he came around the corner he didn’t see the daughter, but the larger, more intimidating dad. The preacher then said, “That’s what Jesus does for you. When God looks at you, He doesn’t see you. He sees Jesus standing in front of you.”

My mouth dropped open as I realized he had just allegorically equated God the Father to a sociopathic predator, and the room nodded in agreement, muttering soft “amens” and “hallelujahs” under their breath.

That is disturbing theology.

But I’m thankful for the conversation, because I had very similar questions about my understanding of atonement when I was growing up. Logically speaking, isn’t this where evangelical theology has to land? It was liberating to find the conversation surrounding atonement is much bigger than I was aware.

I bring this up in the book of Hebrews because Hebrews is the book in the New Testament that speaks directly to and about atonement. I find it ironic that we go to the book of Romans to explain our evangelical understanding of atonement — a book that doesn’t speak directly to atonement at all. As we learned with our time in Romans, the book is about justification, not atonement. Especially from the Jewish perspective of the New Testament and its authors, these are two wildly different conversations (even though the two ideas are directly linked in evangelical circles).

I will give a very quick overview of the different theologies of atonement that have shaped Christianity over the last 2,000 years. I will not resolve the conversation, for this is not what I believe is most helpful; I will simply point out that there is a conversation. I should also say there are other resources that will do what I am about to do much better than I will. There is a short (three chapters) e-book by Tony Jones, A Better Atonement: Beyond the Depraved Doctrine of Original Sin, that does a wonderful job explaining the conversation in a way that helps one understand the basics. He has written another book titled Did God Kill Jesus? that deals with the subject matter.

At any rate, one of the oldest theologies of atonement is the idea of Ransom-Captive theology. This idea is more poetic in its theology than mechanical. It espoused the idea that Satan had held the world captive to sin. He was willing to make a deal with God that if He would give Jesus as a ransom payment, Satan would let God’s children go. God agrees, handing over Jesus, who is crucified; Jesus then rises from the dead, leaving Satan empty handed. One might recognize this theology as playing a part in The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis.

The problems with this theory are multifaceted. To name just a couple, it puts the power in the hands of Satan and makes God out to be a deceiving hustler. Centuries later, this theory had run its course and needed to be replaced.

This led to the idea of Christus Victor. For the next handful of centuries, Christians held to the idea that Jesus came to conquer the realm of sin and death. There was the Order of Death that had reign and influence in this world, and Christ’s death and resurrection defeated this order and ushered in the Order of Life. This theory of atonement has recently made a comeback, with a repainting of the old understandings; theologians like Greg Boyd promote this reclaimed understanding of Christus Victor.

The problem with this theory is that it doesn’t have a mechanical explanation for the atonement of personal sin; while it explains the meta-narrative of two kingdoms and the struggle of light and darkness, it doesn’t actually explain how my mistakes are atoned for. It’s worth noting that the theories of atonement are largely driven by the historical context of their inception. Ransom-Captive appears on the scene of a persecuted church, being held captive by powerful enemies and needing to be liberated. Christus Victor is developed during the period of imperial conquest and the Crusades.

That will help us understand the construction of the atonement theory many of us were raised with, known as penal substitutionary atonement. The idea here is that because of your sin, death is demanded. God loves you too much to let you die, so He sends Jesus into the world to die as your substitute. In this way, the penal demand for death is satisfied and your acceptance of this gift is your ticket to atonement and eternal life. It should be worth noting that this understanding of atonement was explained during the days of the Reformation, in a new world of contracts and legal documents — a world that didn’t exist before that era. Theologians like John Calvin were lawyers who took their knowledge of legal matters and applied it to their theology.

The problem with this theory (in addition to what it does to our understanding of the Trinity as referenced above) is that it suggests God is bound by a non-existent court and a rule book that must be superior to Himself. The true freedom of God is not maintained; He is forced to do certain things in certain ways.

Other theories have been at play, and most of us have simply been unaware of those. The rise of textual criticism, secularism, and liberal theology toward the beginning of the twentieth century led to moral exemplar theory, an idea that said Jesus’s death on the cross was the ultimate example of the self-sacrificial ethic Jesus spent his whole life teaching. These theologians say Jesus’s teaching and life demanded he would lay his own life down on behalf of others, in order to take down corrupt systems of religious oppression. For many of us, this theory stops far too short and has a slightly hollow ring to it.

Another theory, espoused by Jones in the books mentioned above, is solidarity theory. This idea is that God took on flesh in the incarnation and walked among us to join humanity in the greatest movement of solidarity we have ever seen. Jesus came to sweat our sweat, taste our food, cry our tears, bleed our blood, and ultimately die our death.

And yet another theory tries to see atonement through a more Hebraic lens (obviously, my personal favorite). Scapegoat theory was proposed by the late theologian Rene Girard. I believe the world of theology will look back fifty years from now and realize the understated impact Girard’s theology will have on evangelicalism and Christendom as a whole. Scapegoat theory states that Jesus’s death served as the ultimate sacrifice, just as the scapegoat did in the Levitical system. The scapegoat was given as a representation of the forgiveness of God and the removal of your sin, so Jesus was offered “at the culmination of the ages… once for all time” for the cleansing of your conscience. No longer do we have to offer an annual scapegoat, for this sacrifice of God Himself is good for all of eternity to accomplish what the blood of bulls and goats could never do.

I say all of this (again, with no intent of resolution) for a few reasons:

First, simply for theological awareness. While such knowledge will frustrate many — who like their clean boxes and clear answers — it will also liberate others to know that their questions are valid.

Second, because I’m not so sure there is a “right” theology of atonement. I am starting to believe each theory of atonement has a way of explaining a piece of the mystery that is the love of God and the death of Jesus on the cross. The poetry of Ransom-Captive is still moving to this day. The victory of Christus Victor is an annual part of my personal celebration of an empty tomb, and I’m not sure I could understand the resurrection without it. I believe Christ’s death is an example of what self-sacrificial living looks like, just as the moral exemplar theory explains. I believe the mystery of the incarnation is that Jesus came to stand in solidarity with all humanity. And even though we are living toward the end of the age of penal substitutionary atonement — a theory I believe has run its course and has led to some horribly destructive theology — I believe there is good truth in the theory and history will look back on it and its ability to communicate great theology when used correctly.

Third, I believe the above paragraph to be true because the book of Hebrews, the book on atonement, seems to portray all of those theories, as well. Hebrews says early in the letter that Christ offered his life as a ransom (Ransom-Captive). It speaks of Jesus triumphing over death and scorning the shame of the cross (Christus Victor). It speaks of Jesus serving as our example, showing us how to suffer so we might be brought to glory (moral exemplar). It speaks of God offering His Son for our sin (penal substitutionary atonement). It references multiple times the idea that Christ would join humanity in our suffering, being tempted in every way, and experiencing our humanity so he could serve as our great High Priest (solidarity). Finally, the book of Hebrews is consistent with its use of scapegoat theory and the idea, over and over again, that the sacrifice of Jesus is able to clean our conscience — something the blood of bulls and goats could never do.

We may spend the rest of our lives trying to understand the mystery of atonement and God’s love for us, in spite of our sin. But I’m not sure that would be all that bad.

HEBREWS: Running a Better Race

Hebrews will be another book that is tricky to deal with correctly within the scope of this series. We could go through it in its entirety like we did Galatians or Romans, but it might be slightly overdone. I’m tempted personally, because it’s one of my favorite books, but I think I may actually hurt my own purposes for this series if I do. Instead, I will point you in a few directions if you’d like to do more work on this book.

First, the context of Hebrews is debated, but recent scholarship is changing our assumptions. We used to believe that Hebrews was written before the destruction of the Temple (in AD 70); most of the reasoning for this was the way the book discusses the Temple and Levitical priesthood in the present tense. However, as we learn more and more about first-century Judaism, this is starting to be questioned. One of my favorite theories is that the “book” is actually a sermon written after the destruction of the Temple to be circulated among the synagogues as a homily addressing a Judaism without the Temple. One scholar has even suggested this homily was read as the holiday reading during the solemn assembly that remembered the destitution of the Temple.

Second, the author of Hebrews is unknown and still debated. While ancient church tradition credited Paul with the writing of Hebrews, that has all but been rejected by modern scholarship for the last couple of centuries. Whoever the author is, they are incredibly fluent in Greek, Alexandrian in their thought, and a second-generation believer. Paul fits none of these criteria. However other options emerge as great possibilities: Barnabas, Apollos, or even Clement are good ideas. My favorite opinion is that the letter is written by Priscilla, and the fact that it is a woman is why the author doesn’t name herself. This can be argued by using some Greek analytical thought, but I digress.

Third, the overarching theme of Hebrews seems to be that Jesus offers a clearer version of everything the Jewish people understand. It’s not that Jesus came and did something new at all — it’s the same story from Genesis on — but Jesus is a better version of everything they held dear in the Levitical system. The Torah was great and a wonderful gift from God, but Jesus takes Torah and makes it even better and more clear, interpreting it through his life. Moses was an amazing leader, but Jesus was everything that Moses was and then some. The High Priest is an incredible thing to have, but Jesus is the best High Priest you could serve. Time and time again, the author says that what they have experienced in God’s Levitical way was a wonderful thing, but now that it has been destroyed, they need not fret, for Jesus has given them something better.

I should point out that we did an eleven-week exegetical Lenten series through the book of Hebrews here at Real Life on the Palouse. You can get to the series by clicking here and enjoying the discussion about the context of Hebrews.

Fourth, speaking of overarching themes, the book of Hebrews contains an incredible use of an ancient Greek literary tool. The book of Hebrews uses something known as an inclusio, a type of literary “bracketing” to identify an argument within a piece of Greek literature. In some ways, it functions similarly to a chiasm (a Hebrew literary tool, which is also seen in Hebrews in addition to the inclusio), only without all the elements of an inverted parallelism. You can see a visual representation of the inclusio of Hebrews that was made by my friend Paule Patterson below, as well as listen to Paule explain the infographic in the teaching here.

Finally, the last dominant theme that seems to serve as the thrust of the exhortation of Hebrews is the idea of perseverance. All throughout the homily, the author insists that Jesus knew what it meant to suffer, was glorified in his suffering, and showed us how to suffer so God could also bring “many sons to glory” through our perseverance. The call repeats itself numerous times throughout the book, finally culminating in the passage of Hebrews 11 (sometimes referred to as “The Hall of Faith”), where the author lists these great heroes of the faith who show us what it means to follow God faithfully. The author will say that since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses (those great heroes of the faith, as well as those great heroes of your faith who have gone before you), we need to run the race with perseverance. It’s one of my favorite passage of Scripture, and you can also see me teach on the idea here.

Now there’s one last seed I want to plant before we move beyond the book of Hebrews. We’ve given you a lot of leads to follow from here if you so desire, so I hope you can enjoy that. But what about this idea of sacrifice?

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.