Homilies on 1 Timothy 5.1–6.3

“This charge I entrust to you, Timothy, my child, [in accordance with the] prophecies [previously made about you], that by them you may wage the good warfare, holding faith and a good conscience, which some have rejected and [made shipwreck] concerning the faith.”

The dignity of teaching and of the priesthood is great and wonderful, and truly needs God’s vote to bring the worthy man forward. So it was of old, and so it happens now, when we make our elections free from human passion, when we look to nothing worldly, neither to friendship nor to enmity. Even if we do not share in so great a measure of the Spirit, a good intention is enough to draw God’s appointment. For neither did the apostles yet share in the Spirit when they chose Matthias; but committing the matter to prayer, they enrolled him in the number of the apostles, for they did not look to human friendship. So it ought to happen now among us too. But we have come to the extreme of carelessness, and give up even what is plain to see; and when we overlook what is clear, how will God reveal to us what is unclear? “If you have not been faithful in what is small,” he says, “who will entrust to you what is great and true?” In those days, since nothing human was done, priests were appointed even by prophecy. What does “by prophecy” mean? By the Holy Spirit. Prophecy is not only telling what is to come, but also what is present; for Saul too was shown by prophecy hiding among the baggage. For God [reveals such things] to the righteous: “Set apart for me Paul and Barnabas.” So too Timothy was chosen. Here he speaks of many prophecies, perhaps the one with which he took Timothy when he circumcised him, and the one when he ordained him, as he himself writes: “Do not neglect the gift that is in you.” Rousing him, then, and preparing him to be sober and watchful, he reminds him of the one who chose and ordained him; as if he said: God chose you, he himself entrusted this to you; you were not made by a human vote; do not insult or shame God’s vote.

Then, since he had said “charge,” which was rather burdensome, what does he say? “This charge I entrust to you, Timothy, my child.” He charges him as a child, and a true child. Not with authority, nor as a master, nor with power, but as a father: “Timothy, my child,” he says. “To entrust” shows how carefully it must be kept, and that it is not ours: we did not acquire it; God granted it to us. And not this only, but also faith and a good conscience. What he gave, then, let us keep. If he had not come, neither faith itself would have been found, nor the pure life which we receive from his instruction. As if he said: It is not I who charge you, but the one who chose you; for this is the meaning of “in accordance with the prophecies previously made about you.” Listen to them, obey them. And what do you charge, tell me? “That by them you may wage the good warfare.” They chose you; for the purpose for which they chose you, wage the good warfare. He said “good,” for there is also a bad warfare, of which he says: “For just as you presented your members as slaves to sin and impurity.” Those serve under a tyrant, you under a king.

Why does he call the thing a warfare? To show that a fierce war has been raised against all, but especially against the teacher; that we need strong weapons, sobriety, watchfulness, unceasing vigilance; that we ought to be prepared for blood and battles, to stand in battle order and have nothing slack about us. “That by them you may wage,” he says. Just as in armies not all serve in one capacity but in different ranks, so too in the church: one in the rank of teacher, another of disciple, another of layman; and you in this one. Then, so that no one may think this enough, what does he say? “Holding faith and a good conscience.” For the teacher must first be his own teacher. Just as a general, unless he is first an excellent soldier, will never be a general, so too the one who teaches. This he says elsewhere too: “lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.” “Holding,” he says, “faith and a good conscience,” so that in this way you may lead the others. Hearing these things, let us not disdain the exhortations of those greater than we, even if we are teachers. For if Timothy, whom none of us equals, receives charges and is taught, and that while in the rank of teacher, much more we.

“Which some,” he says, “have rejected and made shipwreck concerning the faith.” Naturally. For when a life is hopelessly lost, a doctrine of the same kind is born; and one can see many who from this cause have fallen into an abyss of evils and turned aside to paganism. For so that they may not be tormented by fear of what is to come, they strive to persuade their souls that all our teachings are false. And some turn aside from the faith who seek everything by reasonings; for reasoning causes shipwreck, while faith is like a safe ship.

Those who have turned aside from it, then, must suffer shipwreck; and he shows this by an example: “Among whom are Hymenaeus and Alexander.” By these too he brings us to our senses. See how even from those times there were people teaching wrongly, busybodies, people keeping away from the faith, seeking by their own reasonings. One who is shipwrecked is naked and stripped of everything; so too one who has fallen from the faith has nothing left, no place to stand, no harbor to put into. He has no life by which he may gain anything from it; for when the head is corrupted, what use is the rest of the body? If faith without a good life is nothing, much more the reverse. If God disregards what is his own for our sake, much more must we disregard what is ours for his. For so it is when someone falls from the faith: he stands nowhere, but swims this way and that, until he is drowned once more.

“Whom I have handed over to Satan,” he says, “that they may be taught not to blaspheme.” Do you see that it is blasphemy to search out divine things by reasonings? Naturally; for what could human reasoning have in common with them? But how does Satan teach them not to blaspheme? If he teaches others not to blaspheme, much more ought he to have taught himself; and if he cannot teach himself even now, neither can he teach others. He did not say, “that he may teach them not to blaspheme,” but “that they may be taught not to blaspheme.” Not that Satan does this, but this is the result; just as he says elsewhere of the man who had committed sexual immorality: “Hand such a one over to Satan for the destruction of the flesh,” not that Satan may save the body, but “that the spirit may be saved”; this is said without naming who does it. How then does it happen? Just as executioners, who are full of countless evils themselves, bring others to their senses, so too here with the evil demon.

And why did you not punish them yourself, as you did Bar-Jesus, as Cephas did Ananias, but handed them over to Satan? Not that they might be punished, but that they might be taught. And yet Paul too has power, as when he says, “What do you wish? Shall I come to you with a rod?” and again, “not that we may appear approved, but that you may do what is right,” and again, “not for tearing down, but for building up.” Why then does he call Satan in to inflict the punishment? So that, together with the severity of the punishment, the disgrace may also be greater. Or rather, unbelievers the apostles disciplined themselves, but those who had turned aside they handed over to Satan. Why then did Peter punish Ananias? Because Ananias was still an unbeliever when he put the Spirit to the test. So that unbelievers might learn that they cannot escape notice, the apostles punished them themselves; but those who had learned this and then turned aside they handed over to Satan, showing that it was not by their own power but by the apostles’ guard that they were held together, and that all who were lifted up into folly were handed over. Just as kings slay their enemies with their own hands but hand over their own subjects to executioners, so too here. This shows that it was the apostles’ protection that kept them; and besides, it was no small thing to be able to give orders to the devil, for it showed that the devil serves and yields to the apostles even against his will. So this was no less a matter of grace.

Hear how he handed him over: “When you are assembled,” he says, “and my spirit, with the power of our Lord Jesus Christ, hand such a one over to Satan.” At once he was cast out of the common assembly, cut off from the flock, left desolate and naked, handed over to the wolf. For just as the cloud marked out the camp of the Hebrews, so the Spirit marked out the church. If anyone came to be outside, he was burned up; and he came to be outside by the judgment of the apostles. So too the Lord handed Judas over to Satan; for immediately after the morsel Satan entered into him. One may also say this: those whom they wished to correct … since they were more fearsome when they handed them over to others. So too Job was handed over to Satan; but not for sins, rather for greater renown.

Many such things happen now too. For since the priests do not know all the sinners and those who partake of the mysteries unworthily, God often does this himself and hands them over to Satan. When diseases, plots, bereavements, and misfortunes befall, or other such things, it is for this reason. Paul shows this, saying: “That is why many among you are weak and ill, and a number have fallen asleep.” And how, someone says, when we approach only once a year? This is the terrible thing: that you measure the worthiness of approaching not by purity of mind but by the length of the interval, and think it reverence not to approach often, not knowing that to approach unworthily, even if it happens once, defiles, while to approach worthily, even often, saves. It is not boldness to approach often, but to approach unworthily, even if one approaches only once in one’s whole life. But we are so foolishly and wretchedly disposed that, doing countless evils all year long, we take no care to strip them off, but think it enough not to dare continually and leap insolently upon the body of Christ, not considering that those who crucified Christ crucified him once. Is the sin then less because it was once? Judas too betrayed once; what then? Did that rescue him? Why do we measure the thing by time? Let our time for approaching be a pure conscience.

The mystery at Pascha has nothing more than the one celebrated now: it is one and the same, the same grace of the Spirit; it is always Pascha. You who are initiated know what is meant. On Friday, on the Sabbath, on the Lord’s day, on a day of the martyrs, the same sacrifice is offered. “For as often as you eat this bread,” he says, “or drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death.” He did not limit the sacrifice by any boundary of time. Why then, someone asks, is it called Pascha at that time? Because then Christ suffered for us. Let no one, then, approach that one in one way and this one in another: there is one power, one dignity, one grace, one and the same body; that one is not holier than this, nor this less than that. You know this yourselves, seeing nothing new then except these worldly hangings and the brilliant crowd. Those days have this much more: that our day of salvation took its beginning from them, since on it Christ was sacrificed; but as regards the mysteries they have no precedence. Before food you wash your mouth; but when you are about to approach spiritual food, do you not wash your soul, but come full of uncleanness? And what, someone says, are not the fasts of the forty days enough to clean away the great heap of sins? And what is the use, tell me? If someone who wishes to store ointment cleans the place, and then, a little after putting it in, throws dung on it again, has not the fragrance flown away? This happens with us too: we became worthy, approaching as well as we could; then we defile ourselves again. What then is the gain? This we say even of those who are able to wash themselves clean in the forty days. Let us not neglect our salvation, I beg you, so that our labor may not be in vain. For a man, it says, who turns from his sin and goes again and does the same things “is like a dog returning to its own vomit.” If we act so and take heed so, we shall be able to be counted worthy of those prizes; may we all obtain them, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, power, honor, now and always, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

“First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life …. This is good and acceptable before God our Savior, who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.”

The priest is a kind of common father of the whole world. It is right, then, that he should care for all, as God does, whom he serves as priest. That is why he says, “First of all, then, I urge that supplications and prayers be made.” Two good things come of this. The hostility we have toward those outside is dissolved, for no one will be able to bear hostility toward a man who makes supplications for him; and they themselves become better, both because prayers are made for them and because they are not made savage toward us. Nothing so draws people to the teaching as loving and being loved. Think what it meant for those who plotted, scourged, banished, and killed to hear that those who suffered such things were making earnest prayers to God for those who did them. Do you see how he wants the Christian to be above everything? Just as with little children, even if the child, while being carried, strikes its father’s face, he cuts off nothing of his tenderness, so even if we are struck by those outside, we ought to lessen nothing of our goodwill toward them.

What does “first of all” mean? That is, in the daily worship. The initiated know how this is done every day, evening and morning: how we make supplication for the whole world, and for kings and all who are in high positions. But perhaps someone will say that he did not mean “for all,” but for the faithful. What then, when he says “for kings”? The kings at that time were not godly; indeed for a long time they continued, ungodly succeeding ungodly. Then, so that the thing might not be flattery, he said first “for all,” and then “for kings.” Had he said “for kings” only, someone might perhaps have suspected flattery. Then, since it was likely that the Christian’s soul would be numbed on hearing this and would not accept the exhortation, if at the time of the mysteries it must offer supplications for the pagan, see what he says and how he sets out the gain, so that even so you may accept the exhortation: “that we may lead,” he says, “a peaceful and quiet life.” That is, their safety is our freedom from care; as in the letter to the Romans too, urging them to obey rulers, he says: “not only because of compulsion but also for the sake of conscience.” For God arranged the authorities for the common good. How then is it not absurd that they serve as soldiers and take up arms for this, so that we may live in security, while we do not even make supplications for those who are in danger and on campaign? So the thing is not flattery; it is done by the rule of justice. If they were not kept safe and did not succeed in their wars, our affairs too would necessarily be in turmoil and confusion; for either we ourselves would have to serve as soldiers, once they were cut down, or we would have to flee everywhere and wander. They are like a bulwark set before us, he says, keeping those within in peace.

“Supplications,” he says, “prayers, intercessions, thanksgivings.” We must thank God even for the good things done to others, for example that he makes the sun rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the just and the unjust. Do you see that not only through prayer but also through thanksgiving he unites and binds us together? One who is required to thank God for his neighbor’s good things is required also to love him and to be well disposed toward him. And if we must give thanks for our neighbor’s good things, much more for those that come to us, the hidden ones too, those we receive willingly and unwillingly, and even for those that seem grievous; for God arranges everything for our good.

Let every prayer of ours, then, contain thanksgiving. And if we are commanded to pray for our neighbors, not only believers but unbelievers too, consider how great an evil it is to pray against one’s brothers. What do you say? He commanded you to pray for enemies, and you pray against your brother? It is not against him that you pray, but against yourself; for you provoke God by uttering those unholy words: “Show him, do this to him, strike him, repay him.” These things are far from the disciples of Christ, who are gentle and meek. Let the mouth that has been counted worthy of such a mystery utter nothing bitter, nothing offensive; the tongue that has touched the divine body, let us keep it pure, let us not offer curses through it. If revilers will not inherit the kingdom, much less will those who pray against others; for one who prays against another must also insult him; and insult and prayer are separated from each other; curse and prayer are far apart; accusation and prayer are far apart. You pray to make God merciful, and you pray against another? “If you do not forgive, you will not be forgiven”; and you not only do not forgive, but even beg God not to forgive? Do you see the excess of wickedness? If one who does not forgive is not forgiven, how will one be forgiven who even begs the Master not to forgive? You do not harm him, but yourself. Why? Even if you were going to be heard about your own affairs, because of this you will never be heard, since you make your prayers with a foul mouth; such a mouth is truly foul and unclean, filled with every stench and every impurity. When you ought to tremble for your own sins and make them the whole of your struggle, do you come to move God against your brother? Are you not afraid, are you not anxious about your own affairs? Do you not see what you are doing?

Imitate at least the children who go to school. When a child sees its classmates inside being called to account for their lessons, all being beaten for their idleness, each one examined harshly in turn and cut by the blows, it is half dead with fear; even if a companion strikes it countless times, it cannot [be angry], with fear gripping its soul, nor even complain to the teacher, but looks to one thing only, to go in and get away without blows, and keeps its eye on that moment; and when it comes out, whether it has been beaten or not, for joy it gives no further thought to its companions’ blows. But you, standing there anxious about your own sins, do you not shudder to bring up those of others? And how can you entreat God? By the very words with which you ask him against that man, you make your own case more bitter, not letting him grant pardon for your sins. For how, he says, if you want me to be an exact examiner of the offenses against you, can you ask that pardon be granted for those you have committed against me?

Let us learn at last to be Christians. If we do not know how to pray, which is easy and very simple, what of the rest shall we know? Let us learn to pray as Christians. Those prayers belong to pagans, those supplications to Jews; a Christian’s are the opposite: to ask forgiveness and forgetting of the offenses committed against us. “When reviled,” he says, “we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we entreat.” Hear Stephen saying, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” He not only did not pray against them, but prayed for them; you not only did not pray for him, but prayed against him. As he is admirable, so you are most wicked. Whom do we admire, tell me: those for whom he prayed, or him who prayed for them? Him, clearly; and if we do, much more God. Do you want your enemy to be struck? Pray for him; but not with that intention, not so as to strike him. This does happen, but do not do it with that aim. And yet that blessed man suffered everything unjustly and prayed for them; while we often suffer at our enemies’ hands, and justly. If he who suffered unjustly did not dare to leave them without his prayer, we who suffer justly, and not only do not pray for them but even pray against them, what punishment do we not deserve? You seem to be dealing him the blow, but in truth you are thrusting the sword against yourself, not letting the judge be gentle toward your own sins, since by these words you provoke him against others. “For with the measure you use,” he says, “it will be measured back to you, and with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged.” Let us, then, be forgiving, so that we may find God so too.

I want you not only to hear these things but also to keep them. But as it is, the memory goes only as far as the words, and perhaps not even that far. When we have dispersed, if someone who was not present asks what we discussed, some will not even say; those who know will tell only the subject, that the preacher spoke about not bearing grudges but even praying for others, and then will leave off telling all that was said (for they cannot remember it); others remember a little, but only some points. That is why I beg you: if you gain nothing from what is said, do not even attend the hearing. For what is the use? The judgment becomes greater and the punishment harsher, because after countless exhortations we remain the same.

That is why God laid down a prayer for us, so that we may ask nothing worldly or merely human. You who are faithful know what we must pray, and how the whole prayer is common. But, someone says, it does not say there that we are to pray for unbelievers. That is because you do not know the power of the prayer, nor recognize its depth and its treasure; if one unfolds it, he will find this too lying within it. For when the one who prays says, “Your will be done, as in heaven, so on earth,” he hints at nothing other than this. How? Because in heaven no one is an unbeliever, no one gives offense. If, then, it concerned believers only, the saying would make no sense. If believers were to do his will and unbelievers not, his will would no longer be done as in heaven. But what does it mean? Just as in heaven, he says, no one is wicked, so let there be none on earth either; draw all, he says, to fear you; make all people angels, even if they are our enemies, even if they are our foes.

Do you not see how much God is blasphemed every day, how much he is insulted by unbelievers and believers, in words and in deeds? What then? Did he put out the sun because of it? Put the moon to sleep? Shatter the heaven? Throw the earth into turmoil? Dry up the sea? Destroy the springs of water? Throw the air into confusion? By no means; quite the opposite. He makes the sun rise, sends the rain, gives harvests, gives yearly food to the blasphemers, the senseless, the foul, the persecutors, not for one day, or two, or three, but all their life. Imitate him too; emulate him as far as human power allows. You cannot make the sun rise? Do not speak evil. You cannot give rain? Do not revile. You cannot feed people? Do not abuse them. These gifts from you are enough. From God the benefit comes to his enemies through deeds; you at least do it in words: pray for your enemy. So you will be like your Father in heaven.

We have spoken about these things countless times, and we do not stop speaking; only let something more come of it. We do not grow numb or weary, we are not vexed at speaking; only do not, by failing to listen, seem to be annoyed. A man seems annoyed when he does not do what is said; one who does it wants to hear the same things continually, as though he were not being annoyed but praised. So it comes from nowhere else than from not doing what is said; that is what makes the speaker burdensome. If someone gives alms, tell me, and then another discourses on almsgiving, he is not only not wearied by the hearing but delighted, hearing his own good deeds spoken of and proclaimed. So with us too: since we have nothing in common with forbearance and have not achieved it, we seem impatient even with the words; if the deeds were there, the word would not have pained us. If, then, you do not want us to be burdensome or tiresome, do this: show the thing in your deeds. We will never stop speaking to you about the same things until it is achieved among you. We do this above all out of care and tender affection for you, and then also because of the danger that lies upon us. The trumpeter must sound the trumpet, fulfilling his part, even if no one goes out to war. We do this, then, not wishing to bring greater punishment on you, but to discharge our own responsibility. Besides this, our love for you constrains us; for our hearts are torn and stung if any such thing should happen. But God forbid. What we have spoken of now is not a matter of expense, nor of financial loss, nor of a long journey: one need only will it; it is a word, it is a choice. Let us guard our mouth; let us put a door and a bolt on it, so that we may utter nothing displeasing to God. This is done for our own sake, not for those for whom we pray. Let us always reckon this: one who blesses his enemy blesses himself; one who curses curses himself; and one who prays for his enemy prays for himself, not for him. If we do these things so, we shall be able to put this achievement into practice and obtain the promised good things, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, power, honor, now and always, and to the ages of ages. Amen.