Thursday • 9/19/2024 •
For these two weeks, we are taking a thematic approach to Paul’s Pastoral Epistles, his letters to Timothy and Titus. Over the last three days, we looked at the way the apostle addresses our deficits in faith, hope, and love. For the next four days, we will take up the way Christ teaches us godliness, temperance, justice, and courage. And on the last three days of this special series, we will think about what Paul describes as the positive aspects of faith, hope, and love in these letters.
Today, let’s think about Paul’s distinctive—I’d call it even countercultural—use of the language of “religion.” In the face of modern blather about how to be a “Christian” without being “religious,” Paul tells us he wants us to be practitioners of what he calls—heads up!—“good religion,” the Greek for which is eusebeia, etymologically “good” + “religion.” Translators usually render the term “godliness” or some such — but I’m afraid that terminology is misleading. I think we should call it what it is for Paul: “good religion.”
The normal word for “religion” is simply sebeia. Without going into detail here, I will point out that in his earlier writings, specifically in his letter to the Romans, Paul offers a devastating critique of mere religion, bad religion, or irreligiosity. He calls it asebeia (“irreligion” or “godlessness” — see Romans 1:18; 4:5; 5:6). In their irreligion people reveal the wrath of God. Amazingly, it is irreligious people that God declares righteous, and he does so because it is for irreligious people that Christ died!
Now, in his last writings, as he prepares his trusted proteges to carry ministry into the next generation, Paul works to redeem the language of “religion.” To the term sebeia Paul adds the prefix eu-, which means “good.” For instance, aggelion is “message,” whereas euaggelion is “good message,” which is why we translate that term as “good news” or “gospel.” Paul’s not commending mere “religion.” He’s promoting “good religion” — and he’s doing so unapologetically and boldly — because for him, to know Christ is to have come into “good religion.”
Image: Adapted from "the Sizzling Pepper Steak" by dbgg1979 is licensed under CC BY 2.0.
Here’s the New English Bible’s rendering of a few phrases in which Paul speaks of eusebeia — in each case, you should mentally supply “good” in front of the boldface “religion”: “… that we may lead a tranquil and quiet life, free to practise our (good) religion with dignity … And great beyond all question is the mystery of our (good) religion: He was manifested in flesh, vindicated in spirit … Keep yourself in training for the practice of (good) religion; for while the training of the body brings limited benefit, the benefits of (good) religion are without limit…” — 1 Timothy 2:2; 3:16; 4:7–8.
Good Religion is Christ-Religion. Good religion, in the first place, is Christ Jesus, fully human and fully divine. In Ephesus, Paul urges Timothy to promote Jesus as “the mystery of our ‘good religion.’” A fully human mediator between God and humans (1 Timothy 2:1–7; 3:16), Jesus Christ contrasts with Ephesus’s patron deity, a rock that fell from the sky. In Crete, Paul urges Titus to promote Jesus as “God’s grace … kindness and ‘man-lovingness’” (Titus 2:11–14;3:4–8). A fully divine savior, Jesus Christ teaches us to live “religiously well” (eusebōs, an adverb, Titus 2:12), thereby putting the lie to Crete’s romantic myths about humans-who-would-ascend-to-deity.*
In two stunning strokes of pastoral acumen—one in 1 Timothy and one in Titus—Paul slays the twin beasts of pride and sloth. “Good religion’s” fully human Mediator discourages the slothful anti-humanism that Paul detects in Ephesus. “Good religion’s” fully divine Savior discourages the pretentious narcissism that Paul detects at Crete.
Good Religion Has Both Form and Content. One of the reasons people avoid the language of religion is that they associate it either with dry, empty formalism or with high-energy, but equally empty entertainment. Maybe they grew up with a lifeless liturgy, or maybe they grew up with smoke machines that covered manipulative messaging. Or maybe they grew up pointedly avoiding both!
Like a prophet of old, Paul denounces “the outward form of ‘good religion’” minus its power (2 Timothy 3:5). Liturgy that does not transform lives is not “good religion.” Worship-tainment that is all sizzle-and-no-steak is not “good religion” either.
“Good religion” offers “thanksgiving,” for which Paul uses the term eucharistia. In the ancient church, “thanksgiving” was the universal term for Communion or the Lord’s Supper. Paul denounces those who “forbid marriage and abstain from certain foods, which God created to be received with thanksgiving (meta eucharistias) by those who believe and know the truth. For everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected, provided it is received with thanksgiving, for it is sanctified by God’s word and by prayer” (1 Timothy 4:3b–5). In its Eucharist (Thanksgiving with a capital “T”), the church gives thanks for the Body and the Blood. Because by the offering of his own Body and Blood, Jesus has consecrated and blessed all of life, we receive (and rightly use!) all the good things of this life with thanksgiving (lower case “t”). In Paul’s vision of “good religion” there’s no break between the form of worship and the content of life.
Good Religion Loves People. Another reason people avoid the language of religion is that they see religious people as phonies. “I don’t go to church because it’s full of hypocrites!” Truth is: the greatest saints harbor dark places of duplicity and deceit. That’s why they come to Christ in the first place. And Christ commits himself to the long and arduous process of making them over into something else: bearers of his own likeness.
Paul is as impatient with pretend religion as are the severest of critics. He excoriates those who make a show of religiosity but refuse to take care of widows in their own family. Paul accuses them of failing to practice a fundamental duty of “good religion. “If a widow has children or grandchildren,” he says, “they should first learn their religious duty (their eusebeia) to their own family and make some repayment to their parents; for this is pleasing in God’s sight. … And whoever does not provide for relatives, and especially for family members, has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever” (1 Timothy 5:4,8). Paul is just like his Master, Jesus, who denounces those who hypocritically refuse relief to their parents because they are too busy fulfilling “religious” requirements (Mark 7:11). “Good religion” cares for people.
Good Religion Practices Disciplines of Personal Piety. Spiritual self-care is “good religion.” Paul is concerned that Timothy’s youth, his ill-health, and his susceptibility to being bullied by rivals in Ephesus will prevent him from providing the leadership the congregation needs. And so, Paul counsels him to practices of personal piety: “Train yourself in “good religion” (eusebia), for while bodily training (gymnasia, that is, good things for your body through physical exercise) is of some good, “good religion” is of value in every way as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come” (1 Timothy 4:7b–8).
Paul lays out the elements of “good religion” in the following verses. Those elements are living a life that is exemplary in speech and conduct, reading scripture, teaching, not neglecting the gifts which the Lord has given you …practice these duties,” he says, “devote yourself to them so that all may see your progress. Take heed to yourself and to your teaching. Hold to that, for by doing so you will save both yourself and your hearers” (see 1 Timothy 4:11–16).
The way we keep ourselves spiritually alive and healthy is by practicing these disciplines. By immersing ourselves in God’s story through reading, meditation, prayer, and worship, we insulate ourselves from false choices (justice versus piety, faith versus works, forgiveness versus transformation). Spiritual self-care is “good religion.”
Paul commends to us eusebeia, “good religion.” Eusebeia is “Christ-religion.” It consists of both form and content. It cares for people. And it practices spiritual disciplines. I commend it to you as well.
Be blessed this day,
Reggie Kidd+
* I explore Paul’s contrasting approaches to Christology in Ephesus and Crete in my essay, “Redeeming the ‘R-Word”: Paul against and for Religion,” in Justin Holcomb and Glenn Lucke, For the World: Essays in Honor of Richard L. Pratt, Jr. (P&R, 2014).