Abstract
Preachers who follow the Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) get to read this epistle regularly, and perhaps preach on it from time to time. 1 Timothy 2:1–7 is assigned to Year B on the last week of November, selected for Thanksgiving Sunday (in the U.S.A.). It is also found in the readings assigned to Year C Proper 20, the fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost.
The epistles in general and Pastoral Epistles in particular are written for and on behalf of a particular community of faith. The community is going through political crisis and experiencing moral quandary. In short, the Pastoral Epistles could be read as “narratives of communal discernment.”
Preachers should be mindful of this communal discernment in 1 Timothy and can draw fruitful parallels between the social context of the letter and now. One such parallel hinges on what “fighting the good fight” (1:18), a scriptural reference in the U.S. cultural vernacular, might mean. Part of examining “the good fight” relies on the relationship between author and recipient and the origins of this letter. “Paul” and the recipient “Timothy” are pseudonyms, but their names are used to make the letter authoritative and legitimate. Verse 1 in 1 Timothy 2 uses “then,” which implies that we as readers need to go back to ch. 1, in order to find out what happened, where “Paul,” using the first-person pronoun “I,” is writing a letter to “Timothy,” to whom he feels close. The epistle sets up a parent-child dynamic. There is also a sense of “emergency” and “immediacy” conveyed by the use of the verb “urge.” False teachings are leading to disagreement and disorder. “Paul” is giving “Timothy,” his child in faith, instructions for “fighting the good fight” (1:18).
What “good fight” means can be understood in light of the request for prayers at the top of ch. 2 and the explicit mention of “kings (basileōn) and all who are in high positions (en hyperochē ontōn—“being in authority”) as recipients of those prayers in v. 2a. Some scholars have asserted that the author is writing during the time of the Emperor Nero, who instituted a terrible persecution of Christ followers. In the same way, if this epistle was written later during the reign of Titus (79–81), who was responsible for destroying the temple in Jerusalem in 70 CE—and Domitian (81–96), who may have been responsible for the persecutions in Asia Minor as reflected in the book of Revelation, the same dynamic holds. This is a request for prayers for kings and authorities who are in essence enemies of the church and suggests that the “good fight” is one of forgiveness and love in the face of hate and persecution. Also at stake is the issue of how to pray or to whom to pray because the veneration of the divine Roman imperial power created a theological problem to Jewish and gentile followers of Jesus. To them, “there is one God; there is also one mediator between God and humankind, Christ Jesus, himself human” (v. 5). The author senses a rift being created for this community and provides pastoral wisdom. Pray to God, but pray for the authorities, including the emperor.
In a similar way, the Japanese imperial government tried to force Korean Christians to engage in obeisance at Shinto shrines. The Christian community responded faithfully in a number of different ways, but the crisis led to deep divisions in the Korean church, which are still felt today. The exhortation to pray for everyone is at the same time an exhortation to both challenge one another to be true to who they are and to respect the different ways it is possible to keep the faith in a time of crisis. The prayer for authorities is an acknowledgement of the great power they have for bad and for good but also of the ultimate omnipotence of God under whom all receive judgment and grace. These are things the Korean church and other Christian communities around the world who are experiencing division would do well to take to heart.
Another possible parallel considers the radical manner in which 1 Timothy addresses social inequities that quietly lie within the text. Preachers today should consider that the recipients of this text lived in an imperial setting where many individuals were slaves. Under the Roman Empire, the image of Jesus, as “the ransom for all” is powerful. It is most inclusive and most radical when the salvation of Jesus Christ is made to “everyone” (vv. 1 and 4), regardless of their status. It is most liberating to embrace this atoning vision of Jesus as God incarnate being able to completely cancel the debts for all and deliver from bondage. Such a context evokes a biblical vision of Jubilee, which was uttered and proclaimed in Leviticus 25: 8–10. “You shall count off seven weeks of years, seven times seven years, so that the period of seven weeks of years gives forty-nine years. Then you shall have the trumpet sounded loud; on the tenth day of the seventh month—on the day of atonement—you shall have the trumpet sounded throughout all your land. And you shall hallow the fiftieth year and you shall proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you: you shall return, every one of you, to your property and every one of you to your family.”
As I write this essay, the entire world is in the thick of the COVID-19 global pandemic. I am not sure if the situation is going to be much different by the time it is published. Whatever the situation, the effects of the pandemic will linger. One such impact will be the economic suffering that has been created and the potential for calcifying structural inequalities. There will be debts that deserve to be canceled for those who were hardest hit. Even though Christian communities that read this text today are not slaves in the manner that many were in the time of the Roman Empire, many of them will have been pushed to the bottom of society, and thus their experiences may resonate with those in the early church. Their life is in bondage. They do not see the way out. They feel stuck. When this kind of enslaved life suffocates people, it is very easy to get swayed to believe in false claims and false teaching.
Similarly, preachers can imaginatively set the scene for how the original community might have received the letter in terms of communal leadership and false teachings. Given that only a very few wealthy people were literate in the second-century Roman Empire, in many instances male heads of the household would be reading this letter aloud to others. We can image this man holding the letter, perhaps standing in front of a gathered group and interpreting the text. In addition to external persecution from the authorities, there was in-fighting among those gathered, including disagreements about leadership. Can the person reading be trusted? Is his theology the right one? There is a great deal of tension over this question. That tension might very well have been audible in the voice of the reader.
If preachers want to confront the issue of leadership and of false claims and false teaching, it would be instructive to focus on v. 7, “For this I was appointed a herald and an apostle (I am telling the truth, I am not lying), a teacher of the Gentiles in faith and truth”) by unpacking the translations of “herald” and “apostles.” These two terms were widely used among the early churches. They also connote diplomatic roles of the imperial government that connected ambassadors and diplomatic convoys. Imperial messengers are set in contrast with God’s herald and apostle who advocate for the well-being of the people at the bottom of the pyramid for the sake of telling the truth about power and justice.
Despite such prophetic undertones in 1 Timothy, preachers should be aware that there are elements in the letter that also reinforce an unjust status quo. Indeed, patriarchal and hierarchical assumptions are betrayed in the next section of ch. 2 with stipulations regarding women’s dress code and their need to be silent in church and be fully submissive with regard to men. Some listeners will be aware of these assumptions in 1 Timothy. Preachers can name the tensions between these well-known patriarchal, hierarchical verses and the more hidden, liberative trajectories in 1 Timothy, explored above.
Any of these interpretive and homiletic paths can invite the congregation to experience the gospel as Christ, the mediator of all, who is the source of saving grace poured out for everyone, out of which people can anticipate the future of the liberation from an enslaved reality.