NT96

The naming of writer and sender is a stock element of the greeting of the Greco-Roman letter. Such greetings are also characterized by a blessing. The naming of Paul as sender and Timothy as his “genuine child in the faith” frames the relationship of the sender and recipient as intimate.

Paul’s association with Timothy is certainly referenced in his likely historical writings where he is named as a cowriter (2 Cor. 1:1; Phil. 1:1; 1 Thess. 1:1; Philem. 1:1), an emissary (1 Cor. 4:17; 16:10; 1 Thess. 3:2), and a coprisoner (Phil. 2:19), but the connection became legendary within the Pauline interpretive tradition. For Luke, Timothy is narrated in the Acts of the Apostles as the child of a pious Jewish mother and a Greek (likely pagan) father (Acts 16:1). As such, his genealogy literally embodies the Pauline mission of the reconciliation of Jew and Greek. Additionally, Luke recounts that Paul circumcised Timothy prior to embarking on a missionary journey throughout Greece (Acts 16:3), an act that hardly seems to square with Paul’s own boast regarding Titus’s resistance to circumcision in Jerusalem (Gal. 2:3). Finally, the likely pseudonymous Pauline superscription at the conclusion of Hebrews references Timothy and his recent release from prison (Heb. 13:23).

Much contemporary ecclesial interpretation of Timothy and Titus in relation to Paul focuses on the mentor-mentee relationship in developing leaders in ministry. The chapel of Concordia Seminary in St. Louis, Missouri, the flagship school for the ordained leadership of the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod, is named for Timothy and Titus. Practical theologians refer to the PE as an example of Paul’s careful stewardship of upcoming leaders for the church (e.g., Hoehl). Other scholars now question the authenticity of the canonical, legendary portrayal of Paul’s relationship with Timothy and Titus. Some have advanced the hypothesis that Timothy and Titus (as referenced in Paul’s historical letters) are the same person, an example of ancient heteronymity, the practice of ascribing multiple names to the same person (e.g., Fellows). Whatever the historical relationship of Timothy and Titus to Paul (or to one another), it is clear that the enduring interpretive tradition understands that they are linked in the act of imparting and receiving sound teaching and wisdom. Certainly the PE bear an important place in characterizing this relationship.

1 Timothy 1:3–11: Call to Proper Instruction

After its terse greeting, the writing takes up the context of interreligious conflict that may be the catalyst for the PE. The writer casts Paul in the role of instructing Timothy to remain in Ephesus in order to teach “certain people” not to teach “false teachings.” The immediate preoccupation with the potential threat of “false teaching” and the caricature of it as “empty words” offers potential insight into the overall purpose of the PE, namely to establish an authoritative interpretation of Paul’s teachings and set clear lines between correct and false instruction in the faith.

Within the ethos of the PE writer, proper instruction begins with proper interpretation of sacred tradition. Likewise, “false teachings” begin with misguided interpretation. For the PE writer as he performs Paul, this sacred tradition would be Israel’s scriptural tradition. Far from being contrary to the law, the writer is chiding interpreters who miss the point of the law and “promote useless speculations.” The particular malpractice in view in these verses arises out of what the writer characterizes as an overemphasis on “myths” and “endless genealogies.”

While the historical context of this particular characterization has been difficult for historical scholars to label, it is noteworthy that other Greco-Roman rhetoricians (such as Plutarch and Philo) also warn against overly esoteric speculation on sacred or traditional origins (Wall, 63). While there is no way to know precisely what interpretations are in view in 1 Timothy, it is noteworthy that the canonical genealogical traditions in Matthew (1:1–17) and Luke (3:23–38) represent divergent interpretations of Israel’s scriptural tradition for the sacred and salvation-historical origins of Jesus. Could it be that this kind of diversity was even further multiplied within the PE writer’s context, and that such divergences and arguments about them bred conflict and division within the church?

Contemporary liberation theologian, poet, and activist Elsa Tamez has written a commentary on 1 Timothy in which she traces lines of connection between struggles for power at work between the PE writer and his opponents and the challenges of Roman Catholic women in the barrios of Costa Rica. Tamez argues that those who hold ecclesial, economic, and social power within the church often use rhetoric to disparage and demean those who threaten their power and authority. First Timothy offers her a ground from which to explore these contested relationships in the church and to validate the experience of women in her community who struggle every day to survive and to claim their God-given dignity in the midst of global socioeconomic and political oppression and ecclesial domination.

1 Timothy 1:12–20: Christ’s Mercy—An Example from Paul’s Biography

The PE writer offers thanks to Jesus Christ for the merciful experience of his calling to Christ’s service. This particular element of Paul’s biography—whether it be characterized as a call to mission or a “conversion”—offers a powerful insight into the development of the PE writer’s Christology. In Paul’s seven likely authentic letters (i.e., Romans, 1 and 2 Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, 1 Thessalonians, Philemon), he often refers to his “revelation” (apokalypsis) as an event in which God is the agent, Jesus Christ is the subject (“God was pleased to reveal his Son in me”), and the content is a mission to proclaim the gospel of Jesus Christ among the gentiles (e.g., Gal. 1:15–16). The fact that Paul had persecuted the churches prior to this event is mentioned (Gal. 1:13), but it is not a part of the content or experience of his revelation. In the Acts of the Apostles, likely written at least forty years after Paul’s own letters, Luke narrates this event (Acts 9:4) as one in which Jesus himself, after a flash of heavenly light, asks, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” The PE writer continues the characterization of the event in this vein. The writer describes Jesus, not God, as the source of the experience, and the primary content of the phenomenon is the dramatic reversal of Paul’s work from persecuting the churches to proclaiming the gospel within them. No doubt Luke and the PE writer had much to do with the legendary characterization of Paul’s “Damascus road” experience as a “conversion” more than, in his own words, a theological “revelation.” In the interpretive trajectory of Luke and the PE writer, Paul’s primary connection is with Jesus (in contrast to God), and the content of the experience is not so much a theological vision of how Paul’s mission to the gentiles relates to God’s saving purpose for the world, but rather how he has been mercifully saved from his “unbelief” (1:13). Furthermore, Paul is portrayed not so much as a collaborator with God in the mission to the gentiles, as an example of Christ’s mercy and redemption for those who are to believe in him (1:16). He has become the chief sinner whose own salvation is the proof that “Christ came into the world to save sinners” (1:15).

The characterization of Paul as the first or chief among sinners has captured the imagination of the Christian interpretive tradition. One prominent interpreter of this motif, Augustine, noted that Paul’s conversion was powerful testimony to Christ’s saving power precisely because the devil held him so tightly. As Augustine notes, “the enemy is more overcome by wringing a man from him of whom he had more hold” (St. Augustine’s Confessions I, 8.4, The Loeb Classical Library, 423). No doubt the personal appeal of the Pauline example inspired Augustine in his own journey toward conversion, and offered him an archetype for understanding and teaching the process of conversion in general.

The topic of whether the historical Paul “converted” to a new faith tradition (i.e., “Christianity”) or responded to a theological calling consistent with his own Jewish belief and practice is a prominent subject of debate within the contemporary critical scholarly engagement of the historical Paul in the “Newer Approaches to Paul.” At stake in this debate is the question of whether Paul understood himself to remain a Jew in his experience of his revelation or changed his religious identity in response to it. Pamela Eisenbaum summarizes the historical research that informs this debate, and well outlines her sense of how the characterization of Paul’s “conversion” from his Jewish faith has had tremendously negative ethical and moral consequences in terms of anti-Judaism within Christian theology. No matter where one stands in this debate in Pauline scholarship, one must acknowledge the formative role of the PE in representing Paul as a converted sinner who identifies his life prior to his religious experience as “unbelief.”

1 Timothy 2:1–15: The Call to a Quiet Life

The PE are well known for their promotion of a proto-orthodoxy. Throughout the corpus, the writer calls for adherence to “sound doctrine” and for guarding the “deposit of faith.” The opening instructions of 1 Timothy identify the danger of “false teachings” (1 Tim. 1:3) in the church. Overall, however, the PE corpus seems preoccupied more with orderly behavior (i.e., orthopraxy) than belief. In this vein, 1 Tim. 2:1–15 takes up the call to challenge the church leadership to promote a “peaceful and quiet” life.

The opening verses of this section relate to offering prayers, intercessions, and thanks on behalf of all people, kings and all who are in authority (2:1–2). In relationship to those in political authority, the goal of a “peaceful and quiet life” is characterized by acknowledging the hierarchies of power that frame the social experience of the churches. In this sense, the opening verses of this section offer an implicit call for the readers and hearers of the PE to know their place within the sociopolitical order, and as leaders of the churches, to do what is necessary to ensure ongoing peace and harmony between those in governing authority and the church. As the section goes on to address the behavior of men and women in worship (2:8–15), the writer continues with the theme of “proper” behavior within the social hierarchy for the good of the community. Throughout the section, images of speaking and language continue to tie back to the initial goal of a peaceful and quiet life.

While the writer addresses both the behavior of men and women in worship, the majority of the discussion is devoted to women. This imbalance is telling regarding the PE writer’s energy for instruction and reproof. While the behavior of men can be generally addressed, women, it seems, require more specific and repeated calls to “learn in silence” (v. 11), “not to teach or have authority over men” (v. 12), and “to keep silent” (v. 12). Some scholars argue that this focus on the prevention of women’s speech likely signals a context in which women were already actively at work teaching and leading in the church. It is, in other words, prescriptive rather than descriptive rhetoric (e.g., Schüssler Fiorenza, 310).

The writer summarizes his prohibition of women’s speech and leadership within the community with an argument based on a midrashic interpretation of Genesis 2–3. As the PE writer applies the story of Adam and Eve to his prohibition of women’s teaching and leadership, he offers Eve as the prototypical woman who is easily deceived (ostensibly, by the serpent). One explanation for this is that the author focuses on deception in the Genesis text in order to speak to the deceptive teachings at work in the community, where women are particularly susceptible to such teachings (2 Tim. 3:6–7; see Bassler, 60). This interpretation helpfully contextualizes the prohibitions and mitigates concerns about how the author’s appeal to “origins” seems to imply that all women are inherently untrustworthy.

Early church interpreters of 1 Tim. 2:14–15 discerned a christological claim in this text’s connection between childbearing and salvation. Given that the term “childbearing” is preceded in 1 Tim. 2:15 by the definite article (“the”), interpreters such as Justin Martyr and Ignatius of Antioch argued that the singular act of Mary’s childbearing of Jesus Christ reversed the curse of Eve’s original transgression (Witherington, 240). This messianic interpretation has not endured in the church. By and large, the technical matter of the presence of the definite article has been taken to mean childbearing in general as interpreters have promoted an understanding of the text as an ontological statement on the secondary and untrustworthy nature of women, and their consignment to positions within the church and household in which they are supervised and controlled.

The prohibition in this text of women’s teaching and leadership has served as a key proof text in the church’s structural exclusion of women from leadership in general and from offices that include ordination in particular. While the call to silence and the relegation of women to positions of submission within the community may sound antiquated, it is remarkable to see how broadly this text is cited as an authority in current manuals of church administration and polity, for example in the teaching of the Roman Catholic Church, the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod, and the Southern Baptist Convention (Krause, 50–52).

1 Timothy 3:1–16: Qualities for Church Leadership

The list of qualities for bishops (episkopoi) and deacons (diakonoi) found in 1 Tim. 3:1–13 provide the corpus of 1 and 2 Timothy and Titus with the traditional characterization of “pastoral” letters. Namely, they are concerned with matters of church leadership and administration. From a historical-critical perspective, this emphasis locates the writings within the realm of an administrative discourse on leadership and how it is ordered properly within the church. In this sense, these writings stand apart from the rest of the Pauline canon as they are framed as an intramural discussion, by leaders and for leaders, rather than the address of a leader to a given community or set of communities. The two lists, while separate (first bishops, then deacons), are coordinated by the rhetorical use of “likewise” in 1 Tim. 3:8. While each office requires different characteristics, they are like one another in anticipating the most exemplary elements of Greco-Roman moral virtue—the highest quality of character imaginable.

In this sense, the lists seem to be framed ideally and perhaps in contrast to false teachers within the midst of the community. Indeed, several of the qualities of bishops and deacons are framed negatively (e.g., “not a drunkard, not violent, not quarrelsome, no lover of money,” v. 3; or “not double-tongued, not addicted to much wine, not greedy,” v. 8). This element may support the understanding that this portion of the writing is not simply a manual on leadership but also a way of framing the conflict besetting the church regarding leadership. The list makes plain that not all leaders are created equally, and the current crisis over competing leaders (“false teachers”) within the church provides the opportunity to set the standards and expectations of the church’s leadership high while simultaneously maligning its opponents.

The intramural leadership emphasis of the PE was attractive to generations of church leaders into the third and fourth century. Early church fathers offered commentary and sermonic amplification of the corpus (e.g., Clement, Polycarp, Theodore of Mopsuestia, and Chrysostom: Witherington, 168). While the text of the PE shies away from offering a “job description” for bishops and deacons and concentrates instead on characteristic virtues of the positions, there is a sense in which the PE represent a developmental step in defining offices of leadership (bishop, elder, deacon) rather than mere functions of different leaders in the community (oversight, teaching, and service). The emphasis on virtues rather than duties for leaders no doubt proved valuable to generations of church leaders who followed in different contexts and circumstances.

In the midst of the list of qualities for deacons, there is an enigmatic passage that is of particular interest to contemporary interpreters within settings where the leadership and ordination of women is debated. First Timothy 3:11 marks an abrupt change in the flow of the PE writer’s list of expectations for deacons. Until this point, the list does not identify whether men or women are in view. Suddenly, at verse 11 the writer states that “women” (Greek gynai, translated “wives” in a few translations such as the NIV) are “likewise” expected to behave virtuously. When this verse is understood to refer to women (rather than wives) it stands as a testimony to the presence of women within the designated (and likely financially compensated) offices of the early church. While there is a great deal of evidence for the leadership of women in the seven likely authentic letters of Paul (e.g., Rom. 16:1), and in other traditions of the early Jesus movement (e.g., Mark 15:41), the fact that these late first- or early second-century writings of the church reference women’s leadership challenges all forms of the church today to acknowledge that women’s leadership in the church is not a recent mark of human progress but an original expression of the church’s vision for community.

1 Timothy 4:1–16: Sound Teaching

This portion of the writing draws on the mentor-mentee relationship between Paul and Timothy. The writer evokes the wisdom and experience of Paul as he encourages Timothy to “let no one despise your youth” (v. 12). The pseudepigraphical and pseudepistolary framework (mimicking the form of a letter) of the writing’s composition offers the chance to see this relationship as paradigmatic of a problem within the late first- and early second-century church. The historical Paul would likely not have been in much of a position to encourage his mentees in the command of authority and respect, given his own particular struggles in attaining these things for himself (e.g., 2 Corinthians 10–12). However, by the early second century, Paul’s leadership had been lauded in both the reinterpretation and use of his teaching and in legendary traditions found in the Acts of the Apostles and the Acts of Paul. In this sense, the church leaders of the PE corpus no doubt faced the anxiety of establishing the authority of a new generation of leaders and teachers of the tradition. The call to claim one’s authority within the rising generation, and to lead with conviction and purpose, resonates with the structural institutional developments at work within the second-century church. One striking element of the genius and innovation of the PE corpus is that it positions this call in the person and voice of the legendary leader himself.

One poignant element of the mentor-mentee relationship drawn in this unit is the challenge to carry on the work of ministry and the life of the church in the midst of Paul’s absence. In verse 13, the writer states: “Till I come, attend to the public reading of scripture, to preaching, and to teaching.” These are practices of ministry as they relate to corporate worship. Such practices have parallels within the worship practices of early Judaism. Early church fathers such as Justin demonstrate that this list of activities continued to describe much of the shape of corporate Christian worship into the second and third centuries, and liturgies of the Western and Eastern traditions and the Reformation show that such practices are prominent elements of corporate worship even to the present day.

1 Timothy 5:1–6:3: Clarifying Roles and Responsibilities

In outlining the contours of “sound teaching,” the text also characterizes the false teachers’ practices. The identification of the “liars” with those who “forbid marriage and abstain from certain foods” (v. 3.) is somewhat surprising in light of common practices of a celibate clergy and fasting within parts of the contemporary church. Importantly, Paul’s likely authentic letters reflect positively on the gift of celibacy within the life of the church (e.g., 1 Cor. 7:1, 8). In light of these discrepancies with both the historical Paul and the contemporary church, it is clear to see that the PE corpus defines orthopraxy and orthodoxy at times more narrowly than can be seen within either more ancient or contemporary expressions of the church.

In this section, the writer addresses roles within the church and homes in on widows, elders, and slaves. It is not clear why these three groups are treated together and why elders, for instance, are not discussed earlier in chapter 3 along with the qualifications for bishops and deacons. One clue to the connection between widows, elders, and slaves in this unit is the common use of the term “honor” (meaning financial payment) in each case. Widows, on the one hand, are discussed in terms of limiting their draw on the financial resources of the community. Elders, on the other hand, are recommended for a significant raise (a double portion). Slaves are reminded that their service to their masters benefits beloved believers. In sum, compensation for widows is curtailed, while that for elders is raised. Slaves, whose labor is uncompensated, are called to regard their masters as “worthy of all honor.” Far from an equitable distribution of resources among all groups (such as is envisioned by Luke in Acts 2:44–45 and Acts 4:32–35), this writer calls for a redistribution of the financial resources of the community toward a particular constituency (elders), and away from others (widows and slaves).

The writer’s process of identifying “authentic” or “real” widows is instructive. Where the practice of the church had become that of providing for all women whose husbands had died, the letter writer is redirecting the responsibility for care back to private family units and away from the church (1 Tim. 5:16). In this process, the writer calls for the community to honor (compensate financially) those widows who are “real,” that is, who meet criteria that would ensure that there was no private familial community of support, as well as those widows who would be considered beyond the age of remarriage. Given the limits the writer sets (over the age of sixty, the wife of only one husband, who has raised children, but has none that can financially support her), one might wonder if any widow in the ancient world would be considered “real,” or if the only “real” widow in the eyes of the writer might be a dead widow! Certainly, the position of widow as the writer has constructed it is populated by women who would have very little social power (few familial relationships and no access to financial resources other than the support received from the church). In this sense, the writer’s agenda may be seen as surpassing simply trimming the budget and more along the lines of consolidating and managing relations of power within the church. Such a perspective on the social dynamics of this text helps to clarify that, far from a natural evolution in Paul’s thought, the claims of 1 Timothy represent a marked reorientation of power in the church, and a striking reinterpretation of Paul’s legacy.

Most of the history of the church’s interpretation of this passage has read these instructions regarding widows, elders, and slaves as the teaching of the apostle Paul. In this perspective, interpreters have argued that Paul, by the time of this writing, has seen the unsustainable nature of the vision of the church he upheld in places such as 1 Thess. 5:14; Gal. 3:28; and 1 Cor. 11:17–22. Moreover, he has seen the error of his commitment to “preach the gospel free of charge,” and not to collect on his right as an apostle to compensation (1 Cor. 9:18). On this reading, in 1 Timothy, Paul advocates for the professional compensation of elders (1 Tim. 5:17–18) even while he argues for the church’s financial support of widows to be curtailed. What such theories miss is that far from a linear development of Paul’s thought and practice, the PE writer’s instructions involve a complete reorientation of Paul’s priorities. Scholarship that takes seriously the pseudepigraphic nature of the writing offers an understanding of how this writing has appropriated Paul’s persona and authority to structure the church in remarkably alternative ways to his vision of community found in the likely authentic letters of the Pauline corpus. These ways centralize power and financial resources in the newly constructed offices of bishops, elders, and deacons, and limit the authority of other classes within the church that have grown in significance in the community (such as widows and slaves).

In many contemporary contexts of the church, the rhetoric of 1 Tim. 5:1–6:3 appears to be complicit with histories of the subjugation of women and slaves and the marginalization of certain classes from professional ministry. In particular, the writer’s attack on the character of women in his community as “idlers, gossips, and busybodies” (5:13) and his paternalistic chide for slaves not to disrespect their masters (6:2) place him on the wrong side of movements for human liberation and struggles for justice within the church and world. Once again, an appreciation of the pseudepigraphical nature of this writing helps to locate this rhetoric not in the natural evolution of Paul’s thought and the growth of the church but rather in late first- and early second-century struggles to determine the social construction of the church in the world. The rhetoric of the PE writer offers insight into how those struggles transpired. Women increased in stature and presence within the church, and other elements of the church resisted. The text’s misogyny and paternalism do not need to be seen as prescriptive of contemporary church polity but as descriptive of the kinds of struggles that arose in the face of the social mobility of the early church. In these descriptions, we certainly hear the perspective of the letter writer; however, we also learn that women and slaves were enough of a concern in their emerging roles to merit the writer’s concern and calls for their submission. Far from needing to honor all the writer’s expectations, contemporary readers can appreciate that the writing contains witnesses to those women and slaves who dared to network socially and resist the confines of traditional households in order to pursue their vocations and engage in ministry.

1 Timothy 6:4–19: False Teaching and the Call to Guard the Good Confession

One of the remarkable challenges to Paul’s apostolic identity and leadership was that he did not know the historical Jesus. In his correspondence with churches, Paul references this embarrassing datum as being “untimely born” (1 Cor. 15:8). While he affirms his own religious authority as immediate and from God, as opposed to human teaching (Gal. 1:12), it is clear that his opponents capitalized on this fact and insinuated that his apostolic identity was not legitimate (2 Corinthians 11–12). In this light, it is powerful to witness how the PE writer develops the Pauline tradition to clarify and originally authorize the church’s leadership (e.g., Timothy) in relation to the historical Jesus. In verse 12, the writer presents Paul connecting Timothy’s good confession at his ordination to the “good confession” Jesus Christ made in his trial before Pontius Pilate. In this sense, the PE writer (much like Luke in his Acts of the Apostles) has solved for the Pauline tradition what for Paul was an enduring challenge in his ministry—suspicion about the source of his authority. Connecting Timothy’s confession at his ordination with that of Jesus in his trial before Pilate provides an original and indisputable ground of authority, identity, and purpose for the leaders of the church.

The connection between the confession of church leaders at ordination and the confession of Jesus at his trial before Pontius Pilate provided the early Christian martyrological tradition the opportunity of calling leaders to stand firm in their faith in times of religious persecution. Jerome Quinn notes the connection between 1 Tim. 6:12 and the late second-century North African text of the Acts of the Scillitan Martyrs (Quinn and Wacker, 542–43). The leader of the twelve Christians in this text, Speratus, testifies in his hearing using language similar to the claims of the dominion and sovereignty of God (as opposed to the emperor) in doxological affirmation of 1 Tim. 6:16: “he alone is immortal and dwells in unapproachable light, whom no one has seen or can see, to him be honor and eternal dominion.”