Tuesday • 9/24/2024 •
Today’s is the seventh of ten devotionals that treat Paul’s last three letters — those to his ministry proteges, Timothy and Titus. Last week, in the first three devotionals on the so-called Pastoral Epistles, 1 & 2 Timothy and Titus, we saw how God overcomes our lack of faith, hope, and love. Following those three meditations are four devotionals in which we show how God implants in us basic ingredients of human flourishing: godliness and temperance (which we treated last Thursday and Friday), and justice and courage (which we treat yesterday and today). Finally, in the last three devotionals of this special series on the Pastorals, we will see how Paul inspires us to faith, hope, and love.
The word of the day is “courage.” When commentator Martin Dibelius came upon Titus 2’s claim that “Grace” (i.e., Christ) had come to teach us to live with self-control, justly, and in godly fashion (which, in these devotionals, we have have recast as living according to “good religion”), he noted with some surprise that these letters are engaging three of the basic virtues of Greek and Roman ethics. The Hellenistic ethical canon included a fourth virtue, “Courage.” And courage is what Paul takes up in 2 Timothy.
Image: Adaptation, "City Island Little League ASG 071" by Edwin Martinez1 is licensed under CC BY 2.0.
“Either carrying it, or on it!” According to the Roman historian Plutarch, Spartan mothers sent their sons off to war with a pithy saying. Pointing to their sons’ shields, they’d intone: “Either carrying it, or on it” (Spartan Sayings 241.F.5). Let me give you my amplified version: “Son, I’ll know you fought bravely if you come home alive, carrying your shield. I’ll know you fought bravely if you come home dead, with your comrades carrying you on your shield. But if you come home alive without your shield, I’ll know you turned and ran from battle, dropping that heavy, clumsy thing so it wouldn’t slow you down. Don’t come home without your shield. Don’t come home a coward. Don’t shame your mother. Either carrying it, or on it.”
Paul to Timothy. At the end of his life — from yet another prison cell, aware that he may be about to take the blade, and abandoned by all but Luke, probably here his secretary — Paul writes what we have come to call 2 Timothy to his young protégé of some 15 years, back at Ephesus.
Despite Timothy’s youth (and, alas, we simply don’t know how young he was), he’s been put in charge of what is surely one of the largest of the churches Paul had planted, certainly the church he had invested the most time in. Of late, Timothy’s authority in Ephesus has been challenged by strong local voices. Several years earlier Paul had warned the elders of Ephesus that not only would they be set upon by fierce wolves from outside that church, but that from among their own selves there would arise people speaking perverse things to draw away disciples after them (Acts 20:29-30). Indeed, that appears to be what has happened — strong and disruptive voices are maintaining that the resurrection has already taken place (2 Timothy 2:18), and that (oddly) marriage is forbidden, as well as are certain foods (1 Timothy 4:3).
Commentator Gordon Fee suggests, and rightly so, I think, that the reason Paul casts 1 Timothy in terms of qualifications for leadership is that these are voices indigenous to the church — this is why Paul warns against setting up “neophytes” (that’s Greek for “spiritual rookies”) as “overseers” (1 Timothy 3:6). Explicit is the fact that Timothy’s youth is being held against him by the opposition (1 Timothy 4:12). Implicit is the fact that Timothy’s locus of power lies outside the community, in Paul’s “laying on of hands” (and remember Timothy is from Lystra — he’s an outsider to Ephesus). Thus, this new rival core of leadership has enough local social clout to intimidate Timothy. In 2 Timothy, Paul writes to a younger ministry protégé who’s been knocked off his game. He is playing back on his heels (2 Timothy 1:6). And no matter the sport — you start playing on your heels, you’re done.
Paul’s message is precisely that of a Spartan mother to a son she is sending off to battle: “Either carrying it, or on it.”
Courage: what it isn’t. Negatively, Paul tells Timothy: 1) don’t be ashamed of the gospel; 2) don’t be surprised at the opposition (it comes with living in “the latter days”); 3) don’t get sucked into controversies over unimportant matters; 4) don’t knuckle under when it comes to important matters; and 5) don’t over-react and let your own belligerence become just as big a problem as your opponents’ (for the particulars, read through 2 Timothy 1 and 2).
Courage: what it is. Positively, Paul points to three gifts of the Holy Spirit (2 Timothy 1:7). The Spirit comes with power (we know the power to convince people lies not in ourselves). The Spirit comes with love (we, no less than Spartan warriors, will fight more than anything else because of the mothers and wives and brothers and sisters and children and friends we love). The Spirit bestows self-control (courage learns to overcome fear and to measure its responses).
“Coach, I felt like I was going to die!” One night the Little League team I was coaching needed just three outs to get a win. We had been ahead by a whole bunch of runs. But one of our stronger pitchers had run out of gas. The other team had pulled closer, and was within two batters of bringing the tying runner to the plate.
The other coaches and I turned to one of our smallest players, Patrick, to all appearances the least likely of closers — but a kid we knew could throw strikes — and we knew the rest of the team would make plays behind him.
As soon as we put him on the mound his mother came running to the dugout: “What do you think you’re doing!?” We said, “Patrick’s just who we need with the ball right now.” Sure enough, he made good enough pitches and the other kids made good enough plays. Against the last batter Patrick was breathing so hard, his lungs were the size of a blimp. Afterwards, one of our assistant coaches asked him, “So, Patrick, how were you feeling out there?”
“Coach,” he said, “I felt like I was going to die.”
Courage says: “Here I am, and I’m going to do my best, even if it feels like I’m going to die. I sure hope my coach knows what he’s doing — anyway, here goes.”
Know what? Your Coach does know what he’s doing when he gives you the ball. So, you just throw it.
Be blessed this day,
Reggie Kidd+