§1 Address and Greeting (1 Thess. 1:1)
1:1 / Paul frequently associates himself with others in the prescripts of his letters (cf. 1 Cor. 1:1; 2 Cor. 1:1; Gal. 1:1f.; Phil. 1:1; Col. 1:1; 2 Thess. 1:1; Philem. 1). In most cases it must be doubted that the others made any material contribution to the letters, being named simply out of courtesy, and so in this case. The letter bears all the hallmarks of a Pauline epistle (see Introduction on The Authenticity of 1 Thessalonians and disc. on 3:1), such that it is difficult to believe that Silas and Timothy had any hand in what was written apart from giving Paul an up-to-date report on the situation in Thessalonica and some counsel as to what should be said to the church of the Thessalonians. Silas and Timothy had, of course, shared with Paul in the establishment of that church, and Timothy had only recently returned (as we suppose) from revisiting the scene of their former labors. It is understandable, therefore, that they should be named in the address.
The address follows the normal pattern of letters of that time, naming the writer(s) first, then the recipient(s), and finally giving a word of greeting. Sometimes this structure became for Paul the vehicle of an extended theological statement, as in Romans 1:1–7. Here it remains relatively simple. Because the letter is written to the church (no matter that it was addressed in the first instance to a particular group of Christians at a particular time), we may read it as Paul’s letter (and God’s word) to us (see Introduction on The Letters Today).
The greeting of peace was, and still is, the usual greeting among Jews. Properly, it signified far more than peace does with us. Our concept of peace is largely negative: the absence of war; theirs signified well-being in the widest sense, and here, in the spiritual sense in particular (cf. 5:23; 2 Thess. 1:2; 3:16). The usual Greek greeting was “Rejoice” and the similarity of that word (chairō) with grace (charis) has led some to think that Paul was making a play on the two words. But this could equally as well be a variant of the greeting, “Mercy and peace,” that was current in some Jewish circles (cf. 2 Bar. 78:2). At all events, we are carried by the greeting to the heart of the Christian gospel, for we have been saved by the grace of God (“the extravagant goodness” of God, cf. 1 Thess. 5:28; 2 Thess. 1:2, 12; 2:16; 3:18) that we might have peace with God. One wonders (although this is the first evidence of it) whether the greeting, Grace and peace, had become a liturgical formula (see disc. on 5:28 for the association of grace with the Lord Jesus Christ, and cf. 2 Thess. 1:2).
Elsewhere Paul adds to this greeting the phrase, “from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ” (cf. Rom. 1:7; 1 Cor. 1:3; 2 Cor. 1:2; Gal. 1:3; Eph. 1:2; Phil. 1:2; 2 Thess. 1:2; 1 Tim. 1:2; 2 Tim. 1:2; Titus 1:4; Philem. 3) or simply, “from God our Father” (Col. 1:2). Thus we might ask whether we should add the phrase in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ to the greeting. The Greek would allow it, and it would thereby indicate the place (en, “in”) in which grace and peace are to be found rather than the source (apo, as in the formulae above) from which they come. But NIV adopts the consensus view that the phrase belongs rather with the church of the Thessalonians, expressing the idea that the church was at rest in God. In the world it had no rest. It was a persecuted church. However, the promise was that no one could snatch followers of Christ out of the Father’s hand, and they rested secure in that (cf. John 10:29 and see disc. and note on 2 Thess. 1:4 for the church as God’s possession). But notice, to be in God is also to be in … the Lord Jesus Christ. The one preposition (in the Greek) governs both persons, thus drawing the Father and Jesus together whom, by implication, we know either together or not at all (cf. 3:11; John 10:28–30). The fact that the Father and the Son are thus linked in this the earliest of Paul’s letters implies that it was already the practice (stemming from the first disciples’ experience of Jesus) to afford the Son divine status (see further disc. on 3:11). As Morris observes, “It is not easy to see how any created being, anyone less than God, could be linked with God the Father in such a way. How can the Thessalonian church be ‘in’ the Lord Jesus Christ if he is no more than a first century Jew?” (Morris, Themes, p. 31).
The description of God as Father adds the dimension of love to the thought of God’s care for the church, while the title Lord bears further witness to Paul’s estimate of Jesus. The use of this title comes out of the early church’s belief in the resurrection of Jesus, which, more than anything else, convinced them that God had made him both Lord and Christ (Acts 2:36).
1:1 / In God … and the Lord Jesus Christ: Not only is this phrase with the preposition in (en) unusual in a greeting, as noted above, but insofar as it speaks of the church as being “in God,” it is unusual in any Pauline context. He might speak of boasting “in God” (Rom. 2:17; 5:11) or even of being hidden “in God” (Eph. 3:9; Col. 3:3), but he never speaks of the church or an individual being “in God” as he speaks of their being “in Christ.” Acts 17:28 is no exception. That text refers to the life we have in him by virtue of creation, not of redemption; and in any case, the line is not Paul’s but probably from Epimenides of Crete. Best takes the preposition as instrumental, “the Christian community brought into being by God.”
There are a number of references in the OT to God as Father (e.g., Exod. 4:22; Deut. 32:6; Hos. 1:10; 11:1), but in most cases these describe the relationship between God and his people as a whole, or between God and the king. Evidence that individuals thought of God as their Father is sparse. The same can be said of intertestamental Judaism, and in the whole of the Qumran literature there is just one passage where the epithet, Father, is applied to God (1QH 9.35f.). Judaism of the first century A.D. and later did call God by this name but not often, and generally with stress on the idea of obedience to the Father. Few thought of God as the Father of the individual. “There is no instance,” for example, “of the use of Abba (Father) as an address to God in all the extensive prayer literature of Judaism, whether in liturgical or in private prayers” (J. Jeremias, New Testament Theology [New York: Scribners, 1971], p. 65). If anything, first-century Judaism tended increasingly to think of God as remote from the individual, to which the teaching of Jesus provides a unique and radical corrective. The scribes put God in the seventh heaven; Jesus taught that he is near and cares for each of us. This teaching is reflected, for example, in the prayers of these two letters (1 Thess. 3:11–13; 2 Thess. 2:16f.; 3:5), where God is portrayed as “not remote and uncaring. He is deeply concerned about his people. He is active in bringing about their growth in Christian qualities, and his concern and his activity will persist to the end” (Morris, Themes, p. 13).
The Lord Jesus Christ (cf. 1:3; 2:15, 19; 3:11, 13; 4:1, 2; 5:9, 23, 28; 2 Thess. 1:1, 2, 7, 8, 12; 2:1, 8, 14, 16; 3:6, 12, 18). Lord (kyrios) is not a name but a title. It is used in a variety of ways but, with reference to ordinary people, most commonly as a polite form of address, much like our “sir” (e.g., John 12:21). More importantly, however, it forms part of the religious vocabulary of the day. Pagan gods receive the title “lord,” and sometimes, in that connection, it is applied to the Roman emperors to express their divinity. Paul would have been aware of this and mindful that in using the title of Jesus he was putting Jesus in the highest place in pagan terms. But, without question, the immediate background to his use (in common with that of the church generally) is the LXX, where “Lord” frequently renders the Hebrew Yahweh, the name of God. The application of the title to Jesus stems from his resurrection whereby he “was declared … to be Son of God” (Rom. 1:4). Paul employs this title ambiguously at times; whether he means God the Father or God the Son is not clear. In most cases, however, the reference appears to be to the Son. “There is but one God, the Father … and there is but one Lord, Jesus Christ” (1 Cor. 8:6; for Father, see disc. on 1:8; 2 Thess. 3:1, 3, 4, 5; for Son see disc. on 1 Thess. 1:10; 3:8, 12; 4:6; 4:15–17; 5:2, 12, 27; 2 Thess. 1:9; 2:2, 13; 3:16).
Similarly Christ is a title, but, due in large measure to Paul, it soon came to used as a proper name. “Christ” comes directly from the Greek word Christos, which translates the Hebrew mešiaḥ (messiah), meaning “anointed one.” In the OT, various people are anointed with oil and thereby set apart for a particular office in the service of God, such as priests (Lev. 4:3; 6:22) and kings and perhaps prophets (1 Kings 19:16). The kings especially are called “the Lord’s anointed” (e.g., 1 Sam. 24:10; 2 Sam. 19:21; 23:1; Ps. 2:2; Lam. 4:20). In some instances a person or persons might be called mešiaḥ who had not been literally anointed but who, nevertheless, served God’s purpose in some way (the patriarchs, Ps. 105:15; Cyrus the Persian, Isa. 45:1; the nation Israel, Hab. 3:13). Thus there were many “anointed ones,” but over the years the expectation grew that in due course God would send not just an anointed one, but the anointed one who would inaugurate God’s kingdom in the final and fullest sense (see note on 2:12). This expectation can be traced in the OT, although the title Messiah is hardly, if at all, applied there to the coming one. In that connection, the title belongs to a later period, including the period of the NT. At this time, according to A. Edersheim, The Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah (London: Longmans, Green & Co., 1890), vol. 2, pp. 710–41, the rabbis understood 456 OT passages to refer to the Messiah. Thus, when Paul called Jesus by this title, he was using a term that would arouse significant associations in the minds of all those in touch with rabbinic teaching. He uses the title ten times in each of the Thessalonian letters (1 Thess. 1:1, 3; 2:6, 14; 3:2; 4:16; 5:9, 18, 23, 28; 2 Thess. 1:1, 2, 12; 2:1, 14, 16; 3:5, 6, 12, 18).
§2 Thanksgiving for the Thessalonians’ Faith (1 Thess. 1:2–10)
Paul’s letters typically follow the address and greeting with Paul’s thanksgiving for his readers. It is the celebration of their new life in the context of which he can deal with their mistakes and misunderstandings. This letter follows that pattern (the only exception is Galatians). Indeed, here the note of thanksgiving sounds well beyond this section, being heard again in 2:13–16, 3:9–10, and in 3:11–13, where its sound mingles with that of prayer (Paul Schubert, Form and Function of the Pauline Thanksgiving [Berlin: Töpelmann, 1939], pp. 17–27, suggests, indeed, that the thanksgiving begun in 1:2 extends for the next forty-three verses!). In the passage before us, it is also mingled with prayer, or at least a report of prayer for the Thessalonians (vv. 2b–3). The grounds of the thanksgiving in vv. 4–10 provide an interesting supplement to the story of the church’s foundation in Acts 17.
1:2–3 / We … thank God. The plural We reflects the association of Silas and Timothy with Paul in the address and suggests that they have some part in what is written, if only in providing Paul with more recent news about the Thessalonians. This should be compared, for example, with 1 Corinthians and Philippians, where Paul links other names to his own in the address but follows with the singular, “I thank God.” The addition of the words always (adialeiptōs, cf. 2:13; 5:17) and for all of you (despite the fact that there were some problem people in the church) is some measure of Paul’s love for the Thessalonians. Out of this love his thanksgiving flows. The phrase for all of you could be read with either we … thank God, as NIV, or mentioning … in our prayers.
In the Greek, three participial phrases follow, qualifying Paul’s opening statement. Thus we learn that the thanksgiving is made in the context of prayer, literally, by “making a remembrance of you (but in the sense of mentioning, cf. Rom. 1:9; Eph. 1:16; Philem. 4) “in the time of our prayers” (epi tōn proseuchōn hēmōn). That is, whenever they pray they include thanksgiving for the Thessalonian church.
The second participial phrase expresses the grounds of the thanksgiving in their remembering three things in particular about the Thessalonians. These three things correspond with the familiar triad of graces occurring elsewhere in Paul and other NT writers (cf. 5:8; Rom. 5:1–5; 1 Cor. 13:13; Gal. 5:5; Col. 1:4f.; Heb. 10:22–24; 1 Pet. 1:21f.).
1. Their work produced by faith (the three nouns, work, labor, endurance, ergon, kopos, hypomonēs, of this passage recur in Rev. 2:2). This short phrase sums up what must be our response to the gospel. We are saved by grace through faith—all that is necessary has been done for us by grace (the work of God in Christ), and we take hold of it through faith (our trust in Christ as the Savior; for “faith,” see further disc. on 3:2, and for “salvation,” see disc. on 5:8). Thus we are not saved by works—our works—but we are saved for works, specifically the “good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do” (Eph. 2:8–10). These are expressed in his commands and summed up in the two great commands to love God and neighbor (Mark 12:29–31; Rom. 13:8–10). Paul could not conceive of a merely intellectual religion. Faith must be demonstrated in practice; evidently, this was happening in the Thessalonian church.
2. Their labor prompted by love. This phrase makes the same point as the other: namely, that the Thessalonians are making their Christian profession visible. The practice of their belief is evident for all to see. But, whereas the work produced by faith focuses on the word faith, i.e., on the means of entering into relationship with God, this phrase draws attention to the nature of that relationship with God. It is one of love. “We love because he first loved us.” But “he has given us this command: Whoever loves God must also love his brother” (1 John 4:19–21)—another form of the two great commands, obedience to which is the labor prompted by love. Labor (kopos, cf. 2:9; 3:5; 2 Thess. 3:8 and 1 Thess. 5:12 for the corresponding verb) is a stronger word than ergon, work, but no difference is intended here. Obedience is always hard work!
3. The missionaries’ third recollection of the Thessalonian church concerns their endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. Endurance (hypomonē, cf. 2 Thess. 1:4; 3:5) characterizes those who are unswerving in purpose. It is not a passive virtue but an active one, as its association with labor and work suggests. The Thessalonians’ endurance was rooted in both the past and present. It sprang from their consciousness of the grace of God in Christ and of the love of God which now enfolded them (see disc. on 1:4). But further, it is sustained by what still lay ahead. The NT understands hope not merely to mean wishful thinking but to possess a certainty about the future based on the promises of God (cf. 2:19; 4:13; 5:8; 2 Thess. 2:16). Specifically the hope is in our Lord Jesus Christ. The Greek reads literally, “the hope of,” but the genitive is objective. Jesus—and more precisely his return—is the content of their hope. In line with this, Paul speaks of “the hope of salvation” in 5:8, and in 5:9 of the Thessalonians as waiting still “to receive salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ” (cf. Rom. 5:2; Col. 1:27). There is no question that they are saved, but Paul generally reserves that term for the future, though he sometimes uses it of the present state of believers (cf. Rom. 8:24; 1 Cor. 1:18; 15:2; 2 Cor. 2:15; Eph. 2:5, 8; 2 Tim. 1:9; Titus 3:5). But some of the benefits of salvation such as “the redemption of (their) bodies” (Rom. 8:23) will come only with the return of Jesus. Thus we are introduced to what will become the single most important theme of these letters (for Lord and Christ, see note on 1:1).
NIV links the phrase, before our God and Father with Paul’s “remembering,” but in the Greek text the phrase comes at the end of the verse and may be better linked with what is remembered of the Thessalonian church. This especially concerns their endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ, since it follows immediately on that phrase. In support of this view, we note that the same phrase, before our God and Father (identical in the Gk. though not in NIV) is closely associated in 3:13, as it would be here, with the thought of Christ’s return. It suggests that all that they did and endured was done with an awareness of God and that he was in control.
1:4 / Where NIV begins a new paragraph, the Greek continues with the sentence begun in verse 2. We have now the third participial phrase qualifying the statement, “we … thank God,” and expressing further the grounds of the thanksgiving. The importance that Paul gives to thanksgiving (cf. Rom. 1:8, “First, I thank … God”) lies in his recognition that, whatever part he or others might play, in the final analysis it is God who opens hearts (cf. Acts 16:14)—the new life of the Thessalonian Christians is due to God. And this is the point that Paul makes in this verse. We know … that he has chosen you (lit. “knowing your choice, election”; eklogē, in the NT always of the divine choice, cf. Rom. 9:11; 11:5, 7, 28; also klēsis, “calling,” 2 Thess. 1:11). Election in the OT concerns the nation (cf. Deut. 4:37; 1 Kings 3:8; Isa. 41:8f.; 43:10; 44:1f.; 45:4; 49:7), although it begins with an individual, Abraham (Neh. 9:7). In the NT it concerns the individual, and, in a sense, the individual, Christ, so that election becomes ours only when we are “in Christ” (cf., e.g., Eph. 1:3–14). Thus the element of human choice enters into the process. If we choose to be in Christ, we have been chosen by God. There is nothing arbitrary, therefore, about election. Our choice makes us his elect. At the same time it makes us “somebodies” who in the eyes of the world may be “nobodies.” Election gives us a value that otherwise we would not have, for God chose us, not because of what we were, but despite our being sinners and simply because he is the kind of God he is (cf. 1 John 4:8, 16; also Rom. 5:8 and 1 John 4:10). Our election is entirely an expression of God’s love. Notice then, how Paul links these two ideas in this passage by calling the chosen those loved by God (cf. Deut. 33:12; Neh. 13:26; Sir. 45:1; Bar. 3:36; m. ‘Abot 6.1). The perfect tense of the participle expresses the thought that the love, once shown to us in Christ, continues to enfold us. (See 2 Thess. 2:13 and probably Jude 1 for a similar use of ēgapēmenoi.) The adjective agapētos more often expresses this idea, but the participle may put greater emphasis on God’s continuing love. Brothers is one of the earliest names used by Christians of themselves and certainly the most frequent in the NT. The roots of the Christian use lay in the Jewish practice of calling one another “brother” (cf. Acts 2:37; 7:2; 13:15; 28:17), but for Christians it came to have a deeper meaning (cf. Matt. 23:8; Mark 3:34). They were those whose new birth had made them members of the one heavenly family and children of the one heavenly Father. The name is a reminder that, despite our differences, we are one, and that there is “one God and Father of all” (Eph. 4:6; cf. 1 Thess. 1:1). The many occurrences of the name in these letters (twenty-one times), more than might have been expected even from its frequent use elsewhere, may be taken as a measure of Paul’s affection for the Thessalonians. Needless to say, brothers includes both men and women.
1:5 / The conjunction introducing this verse in the Greek, hoti, is ambiguous. It could be taken as “that,” making verse 5 an amplification of verse 4, as in RV: “knowing your election, how that our gospel came to you.” On this understanding, the emphasis appears to be on their hearing the gospel as evidence of their election. Or it could mean because, as in NIV. We know that he has chosen you, says Paul, because our gospel came to you. On this view (which we accept as the more likely), it is the preaching, not the hearing, that is the evidence and, more particularly, the circumstances in which the gospel was preached. For it came, not simply with words, but also with power. No preaching can be effective without the infusion of divine power (touching all concerned—the preacher and the hearer alike), while effective preaching—and this is Paul’s point—demonstrates that God has chosen the hearers. (It is proof, too, that the preachers themselves have been chosen.) The gospel is described as our gospel in the sense that this is what they were to preach (cf. 2 Thess. 2:14; 2 Cor. 4:3; also “my gospel,” Rom. 2:16; 16:25; 2 Tim. 2:8), but it is “the gospel of God” in the sense that it is peculiarly God’s or that it originates from God (2:2, 4, 8, 9; Rom. 1:1; see further disc. on 1:8). In terms of its content, though, it is described as “the gospel of his Son” (3:2; 2 Thess. 1:8; Rom. 1:9; 15:19; 1 Cor. 9:12; 2 Cor. 2:12; 9:13; 10:14; Gal. 1:7; Phil. 1:27; cf. also Rom. 1:1–3, “the gospel of God … regarding his Son”).
The association of power (dynamis) with the gospel is a familiar Pauline theme (see Rom. 1:16; 1 Cor. 1:18, 24). This reference may be to “signs, wonders, and various miracles” that accompanied the preaching (Heb. 2:4)—what Paul refers to elsewhere as “the things that mark an apostle” (2 Cor. 12:12); or Paul may be referring to the changed lives of the Thessalonians. Either way, “the power of the Spirit” was at work (Rom. 15:19). Hence Paul’s reference to the Holy Spirit (written in the Gk. without the definite article, emphasizing, perhaps, his activity; cf. 1:6; Rom. 5:5; 9:1; 15:13, 16, 19; 1 Cor. 12:3; 2 Cor. 6:6; note that the Third Person of the Trinity has now been introduced; see disc. on 1:1 and cf. 1:3f.). The Spirit is the source of power; he is also the source of deep conviction, or so the juxtaposition of the three phrases, with power, with Holy Spirit, … with … conviction, would seem to imply. Conviction (plērophoria) carries the sense of being convinced about a matter. Paul probably still has the preachers in mind, their conviction about the gospel being a factor in the Thessalonians’ response. But it is possible (as Bruce and others) to take the word as applying to the hearers and to the Spirit’s role in convincing them of the truth of what they heard and, beyond that perhaps, in giving them a general confidence in God. As Morris notes, this concerns “the God who has a purpose for them and who will surely bring that purpose to pass” (Morris, Themes, p. 90). At all events, the verse ends with the preachers in mind. What they preach, they live. There is a consistency in their ministry such that their lives exemplify their message. The final clause in the Greek is connected to the rest of the verse by the conjunction kathōs, which marks a close correspondence between what precedes and what follows: as our gospel came to you with power, said Paul, so you know how we lived among you for your sake. That final phrase, for your sake (di’ hymas, “because of you”), suggests that lifestyle is a matter of deliberate choice on the part of the preachers (cf. 2:9; 2 Thess. 3:7).
1:6–7 / This consistency of practice with belief was evident, no less, in the Thessalonian Christians. These verses are introduced (in the Gk.) by “and” (kai) and furnish the second (as we read the Gk.; see disc. on 1:5) of the two reasons for the statement in verse 4. The writers knew that God had chosen the Thessalonians because, first, he had sent them effective preachers and, second, the preachers had met with a ready response: You became imitators of us and of the Lord (see note on 1:1). Lifestyle is the only evidence that others have of our standing with God. Paul is thus sure that the Thessalonians are in good standing. Paul appears to claim in this verse that he and his colleagues are to be imitated equally with the Lord. Such a claim would be too presumptuous by far. Rather, what he means is that the preachers so mirror Christ in all that they do, that they themselves are models of Christ to others: “You became imitators of us and therefore of the Lord.” Could we say that? We should remember that, to begin with, the Thessalonians had no Christian examples to follow other than Paul and his colleagues (see further disc. on 2 Thess. 3:7). In time, they found other models and became imitators of the churches in Judea (cf. 2:14).
The second half of verse 6 sets out how the Thessalonians became imitators of the missionaries. Like Paul, Silas, and Timothy (and indeed like others before them, cf. Acts 5:41; 16:22–25; Rom. 5:3, 5; 2 Cor. 6:10; Col. 1:24, including Christ himself, cf. Heb. 12:2), in spite of severe suffering, they had welcomed the message with the joy given by the Holy Spirit (for dechomai, “to receive gladly,” “to welcome,” see disc. on 2:13). The NT takes it for granted that Christians will suffer. Indeed, Paul later states that we are destined (by God) for suffering (see disc. on 3:3). Why this should be, we do not know. But we do know that suffering builds character (cf. Rom. 5:3–5; James 1:12; 1 Pet. 1:6f.) and there may be a hint of this in the juxtaposition of suffering and joy. Joy is a distinguishing mark of the Christian, for it has its basis in our relationship with God (and therefore derives from his grace) and is a gift of his Spirit who is at work in us (see further disc. on 5:16). The precise nature of the “severe suffering” of the Thessalonians is not explained—why should it be? Both the writer and the readers knew what was meant. The word thlipsis implies pressure from without, and clearly in this instance, its cause was the pressure of persecution (cf. 3:3, 7; 2 Thess. 1:4, 6; for the verb, thlibomai, 3:4), almost certainly instigated by the Jews who had earlier succeeded in having the missionaries driven from the city (cf. 2:14–16; Acts 17:5–10). But for all that, the Thessalonian Christians were themselves a model of Christ to all the believers in Macedonia, their own province, and Achaia, the neighboring province to the south (modern central and southern Greece).
1:8 / By way of further explanation (note the conjunction gar, “because”) Paul remarks that the Thessalonians’ imitation of the missionaries included preaching as well as practice. The Lord’s message rang out from you. This is literally, “the word of the Lord,” a phrase common in the OT and later in Acts, but appearing only here and in 2 Thessalonians 3:1 in the Pauline writings. But Paul enlists other, similar phrases like “the word,” “the word of God,” “the gospel of God.” The word is the gospel, and it is the gospel of which “the Lord” is the author (see disc. on 1:5). As elsewhere in the NT, it is unclear who is meant by the Lord, for the Son (Jesus) no less than the Father is called by this name. In this instance we should probably understand the reference to be to the Father (see note on 1:1). The verb “to ring out” (exēcheō), found only here in the NT, suggests the call of a trumpet and brings to mind Paul’s metaphor of 1 Corinthians 14:8: “If the trumpet does not sound a clear call, who will get ready for battle?” The clarion call of the gospel had sounded from Thessalonica not only in Macedonia and Achaia, but everywhere.
This, at least, is the sense of what Paul says. But in midstream he changes the structure of the sentence. “The Lord’s message” is replaced as the subject by your faith in God (for faith, see disc. on 3:2), and strictly, the latter had become known. “Everywhere” refers only to Jewish-Christian communities, and even then it may be hyperbole (cf. Rom. 1:8; 2 Cor. 2:14; Col. 1:6). It is commonly suggested, however, that Priscilla and Aquila may have heard of the faith of the Thessalonians in Rome before coming to Corinth (Acts 18:2), as Paul would have learned, and “what was known at Rome could be presumed to be known everywhere” (Morris). Certainly at Corinth, Paul and the others had no need to say anything about it. News of their faith (and equally, no doubt, of their “work produced by faith,” etc., 1:3) had gone before them. However, before long, he boasted to the Corinthians about their faith (2 Thess. 1:4) and their work, along with that of all of the Macedonian churches (2 Cor. 8:1–5).
1:9–10 / As verse 8 explains verse 7, so verses 9–10 explain verse 8 (notice again the conjunction gar). The subject they is indefinite—anyone at all might have reported what was happening in Thessalonica. This is how the missionaries heard of their own part in the story—what kind of reception you gave us—from the lips of others. The unusual expression literally means, “What kind of entrance we had.” It implies a warm reception and, again, suggests the familiar Pauline metaphor of the open door (cf. Acts 14:27; 1 Cor. 16:9; 2 Cor. 2:12; Col. 4:3). The best part of the story, however, was how they turned to God from idols. There is a striking correspondence between this report and that of Paul’s preaching in Acts 14:15. Together with Acts 17:22–31, these verses give some indication of Paul’s approach to pagans in which the denunciation of idolatry played an important part. We should thus read his description of God as the living and true God against this background. The Greek lacks the definite article; the phrase is literally, “a living and true God” (cf. Acts 14:15; Rom. 9:26; 2 Cor. 3:3; 6:16; 1 Tim. 3:15; 4:10; Heb. 3:12; 9:14; 10:31; 12:22; 1 Pet. 1:23), but there is no danger of misunderstanding. Only one God fits this description. He alone lives, and therefore, he alone is “real,” the sense of alēthinos, true.
In greater detail, what it meant to turn to God receives a twofold definition. First, it means to serve him, with the infinitive expressing the goal of salvation and the tense (present) making the point that our goal in being saved is to serve him always. The word means “to serve as a slave” (douleuō, see also Rom. 12:11; 14:18; 16:18; Eph. 6:7; Phil. 2:22; Col. 3:24; for Paul’s use of the noun of himself, see Rom. 1:1; Gal. 1:10; Phil. 1:1; Titus 1:1), which highlights that our service is to be absolute—there is no time and there are no circumstances in which God is not Lord and we are not his slaves. Second, it is to wait for his Son from heaven. The juxtaposition of these ideas of serving and waiting complement one another. There is no other way in which to wait for God than to serve God here and now (cf. Acts 1:6–8). Again, the present tense of the infinitive expresses the thought of being always on the lookout for Christ’s return. The Thessalonians needed no urging in this; sadly that is less true of Christians today who have largely lost sight of his return and, therefore, lack that incentive for mission and for a more Christlike way of life. The phrase from heaven (ek tōn ouranōn), signifies the Son’s divinity (cf. 4:16 and see disc. on 1:1).
Verse 10 introduces the distinctly Christian element into this report. Others, such as Jews, might have called upon the Thessalonians to turn from idols, but for Christians, the other side of that coin was that they should turn to God through his Son whom he raised from the dead—Jesus, who rescues us from the coming wrath. We notice again a striking correspondence to an account in Acts, this time with Paul’s speech to the Athenians in Acts 17:22–31, which is largely an appeal to them to turn from idols. Also the speech associates the thought of judgment with the risen Jesus. The resurrection attests Jesus to be “the man (whom God) has appointed” for this purpose (Acts 17:31). In Acts, the thought of Jesus’ coming is expressed as a threat; here it is held out as the hope of our salvation. Notice the use of his human name both here and in Acts: thus Paul identifies God’s appointed savior and judge with the man of Nazareth. The present tense who rescues should not be overemphasized. As a title it must be understood as timeless and meaning something like “the Deliverer.” But that rhyomai (cf. 2 Thess. 3:2) was chosen, and not some other word, draws attention to the danger in which sinners stand. They need to be “saved” in the sense of “rescued,” and that is precisely what Jesus does. He rescues us from the coming wrath of the eschatological judgment. The preposition, ek, from, underlines the thoroughness of his achievement. The reality of the wrath “revealed from heaven (i.e., God) against all the godlessness and wickedness of men” (Rom. 1:18; cf. 1 Thess. 2:16; 5:9) is insisted upon in Scripture, and we must not shut our eyes to its grim certainty. As righteous and holy, God responds to human sin, but this should not be thought of as merely “an inevitable process of cause and effect in a moral universe” (C. H. Dodd, The Epistle to the Romans [London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1932], p. 20). It is inevitable, but it is something personal. God will actively drive the sinner from his presence (no matter that his love longs to bring the sinner home) until the sinner turns for rescue to the Savior, on whom God’s wrath has been redirected (cf. Mark 15:34), and in whom God’s love is revealed. Thus, through Christ the Savior and the sinner’s taking hold of what he has done, God’s purpose is fulfilled, for he “did not appoint us to suffer wrath but to receive salvation” (5:9; see also disc. on 2 Thess. 2:11). See further Leon Morris, The Apostolic Preaching of the Cross (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1956); R. V. G. Tasker, “Wrath,” NBD, p. 1341, and H. C. Hahn, “Anger, Wrath,” NIDNTT, vol. 1, pp. 105–13.
1:5 / Our gospel (euangelion): In classical literature this word designated the reward given for good news. Its later transference to the good news itself belongs to the NT and early Christian literature. Even in the LXX its only definite occurrence (2 Sam. 4:10) carries the classical meaning. And yet, the NT usage probably stems from the LXX, not from the noun, but from the verb euangelizomai, and in particular from the use of the verb in Isa. 40:9; 52:7; 60:6; 61:1 concerning the announcement of restoration after the Babylonian exile. The whole context (Isa. 40–66) of these occurrences is reinterpreted in the NT with reference to salvation through Jesus Christ (cf. Luke 4:18 with Isa. 61:1 and Rom. 10:15 with Isa. 52:7).
1:9 / You turned to God from idols: It would appear that from the outset, the majority of the Thessalonian Christians were of Gentile origin. The first converts came into the church by way of the synagogue as God-fearers (Acts 17:4; see Introduction on The Founding of the Church). These words serve, then, as an adequate description of their background and may have sprung to Paul’s lips as the language commonly used in preaching to pagans. We have noted above the parallel with Acts 14:15. But is it Pauline language? Bruce points out that this summary of the Thessalonians’ conversion experience lacks some of the distinctives of Paul’s preaching, such as God’s grace and the cross of Christ (cf., e.g., Rom. 3:25; 1 Cor. 2:2; Gal. 3:1; 6:14). This, together with the rhythmical structure of the passage, may indicate a pre-Pauline formula which has left its mark also on Acts (Bruce). This is not to say, of course, that Paul could not or did not make the language his own. There is ample evidence of his readiness to take up a form of words from the tradition and to incorporate it into his own writing or preaching (e.g., 1 Cor. 11:23–26; 15:3–8).
§3 Paul’s Ministry in Thessalonica (1 Thess. 2:1–16)
In the thanksgiving, Paul incidentally touched on their ministry in Thessalonica, but he now speaks of that ministry more directly, defending his own and his colleagues’ conduct against Jewish slanders. The matters touched on include: (1) the circumstances of their coming to Thessalonica and their motives in being there (2:1–6); (2) their conduct towards the Thessalonians (2:7–12); and (3) the response of the Thessalonians to their message and the ensuing hardship caused by that response (2:13–16). Because of their hostility toward the Jews and based on the assumption that they reflect the fall of Jerusalem in A.D. 70 (for the latter, cf. 2:16c especially) the last four verses have been regarded as an interpolation by some interpreters. The argument for a post-70 date for these verses is supported, some argue, by their similarity of theme and language to passages in the Synoptic Gospels, especially Matthew 23:29–36. But this similarity can be as easily accounted for by supposing that Paul and the synoptics drew on a common tradition. Nothing in verse 16 compels us to see behind it the disaster of A.D. 70, although it does speak of the eschatological wrath of God of which that event became a sign and symbol. But given the circumstances in which Paul was writing, it is no more surprising that he should write in this way (remember, Paul was human!) than that, in other circumstances, he should take a gentler line.
2:1 / It is not apparent in the NIV, but this verse is linked to the previous section and, specifically, to verse 9. It offers a further explanation of what was said there (notice again the conjunction gar, “because”). That link is reinforced by the repetition of the unusual word eisodos, translated in verse 9 as “reception” and here as visit. What others had reported of the Thessalonians’ reception of the missionaries, the Thessalonians themselves knew to be true: their visit to them was not a failure. The Greek word is kenos (fem. kenē), “empty,” and, while the reference is to their mission in general, it should be understood to include their preaching in particular, which was not empty in terms either of conviction—they had preached “not simply with words, but also with power … with … conviction” (1:5)—or of content—they preached the gospel (v. 2)—or, indeed, of conversions. With regard to the latter especially we should notice the perfect tense of the verb gegonen. What was true at the time of their visit remains true. The Thessalonian converts’ changed lives prove the genuineness of their conversion.
2:2 / Still on the theme of their preaching, Paul adds that they had dared to tell the Thessalonians his (God’s) gospel (see disc. on 1:5 for the gospel of God). This statement is introduced in the Greek by the strong adversative, “but” (alla): far from being a failure, their mission saw the very positive achievement of their “speaking (the gospel) freely” (parrēsiazomai, cf. Acts 9:27, 29; 13:46; 14:3; 18:26; 19:8; 26:26; Eph. 6:20; in the NT it includes the sense of speaking boldly, hence NIV “we dared to tell”). Boldness of speech characterized preachers of the early church and bore witness that God was with them. So Paul says that they had spoken with the help of their God. Considering their previous situation at Philippi, where they had suffered and been insulted (cf. Acts 16:16–40 and see Williams, Acts, ad loc.), and given the situation at Thessalonica, where they had met with strong opposition, their boldness of speech testified to human courage no less than to God’s help. On the information that we have, it seems that the opposition stemmed from the Jews (cf. 2:14–16; Acts 17:5–19). In referring to it, Paul uses the Greek word agōn which described the contests of the Greek games. This term may imply that he is not prepared to take their opposition lying down but would be an active contender in the contest for the hearts of the Thessalonians (there is a fine line between turning the other cheek and standing up for what is right; cf. Luke 6:29; Acts 23:3).
2:3 / The “strong opposition,” a calling into question Paul’s motives, had been directed chiefly at Paul and had continued even in his absence, after the Jews forced him to leave Thessalonica. Hence his need to defend his motives. The missionaries’ appeal (using the noun, paraklēsis, in the same sense as the verb parakaleō in 2 Cor. 5:20; see disc. on 1 Thess. 3:2) did not spring from error (planē, which can mean either “deceit,” leading others astray, or “error,” being led astray oneself). NIV is probably right to understand it as self-deception, “error,” though Bruce thinks that Paul may have intended the double meaning: “They were neither deceivers nor deceived” (cf. 2 Tim. 3:13). There is no Greek verb corresponding to the “does not spring” of NIV, but some such verb is clearly understood. It would be better put in the past tense, “did not spring,” with reference primarily to their mission.
Nor did their appeal spring from “impurity” (akatharsia, NIV impure motives, cf. 4:7). This word generally carries a moral sense, and here, it may suggest sexual immorality. There was nothing of that kind in the missionaries’ desire to make converts. Nor were they trying to trick the Thessalonians. Dolos meant originally “a bait,” and from that “a trap,” and from that, “any means of tricking another.” With this word, the preposition changes from the ek governing the previous two nouns and denoting origin (NIV … does not spring “from”) to en with the dative, meaning in this instance, “in the context of.” With their preaching still his theme, Paul denied—and we assume that this denial reflects the accusation of the Jews—that it took place in a context in which their entire ministry was given over to deception.
2:4 / Again Paul employs the strong adversative alla, “but” (see disc. on 2:2). Far from having such motives, the missionaries were, in fact, men approved by God to be entrusted with the gospel. This description complements the reference in verse 2 to “his gospel”—the gospel is God’s in terms of its origin and his to entrust to its preachers (see disc. on 1:5). As for the preachers, the verb dokimazō applied to them was used of testing metals, and from that, of any test, and then of the approval of what had passed the test (cf. 5:21). Its perfect tense here suggests that they had long since passed the test. They were approved by God and that approval remained. Such approval made it unthinkable that their appeal to the Thessalonians stemmed from error or impure motives (2:3). Their motives and their message alike centered on God. We speak, says Paul using the present tense to express what was always their practice, not trying to please men but God (cf. 2:15; 4:1). Here again, Paul may be refuting his opponents’ accusation that his preaching was designed to please people—that he was, in this sense, ever ready to “become all things to all men.” He was, of course, always ready to be so, only not in that sense, not in the sense of compromising his preaching. Rather, he sought to accept and be accepted by all, “that by all possible means (he) might save some” (1 Cor. 9:22). In his preaching, he set himself “to proclaim … the whole will of God” (Acts 20:27), whether it pleased his hearers or not (cf. Gal. 5:11). The verse ends with the verb that Paul used earlier (dokimazō, but now as a participle describing God). God who approved them, tests our hearts, he declares. This is, in effect, an invocation to God to witness to the purity of their motives (cf. 2 Cor. 4:2). The “heart” (kardia, cf. 2:17; 3:13; 2 Thess. 2:17; 3:5) is a comprehensive term for the inner self, “the seat of the rational as well as the emotional and volitional elements in human life” (Abbott-Smith). God is commonly described in Scripture as the searcher and tester of hearts (1 Chron. 28:9; 29:17; Ps. 7:9; 139:23; Prov. 17:3; Jer. 11:20; 12:3; 17:10; Acts 1:24; 15:8; Rev. 2:23).
2:5–6a / Continuing to refute the charges that he sought to please men (v. 4), Paul denies he resorted to tricks of the trade such as flattery. The Greek is literally “neither did we come (ginomai, ‘become’) in a word of flattery,” where “word” refers to their preaching. This denies that flattery played any part in their preaching style. Flattery (kolakeia) implies manipulation—it is flattery designed to achieve the flatterer’s ends, a common enough feature of public speaking in both Paul’s day and our own.
The second charge that Paul disavows is that they put on a mask to cover up greed. It may have been common knowledge that Paul received gifts from Philippi. This may have led some to conclude that he had come to Thessalonica hoping for some more of the same (cf. Phil. 4:15f.). Later, this same motive is suggested again with reference to his collection for the Judean churches, and again Paul denied it (2 Cor. 9:5; 12:17f.). But in this letter, the denial may have referred to more than money. Pleonexia is greed for anything, not only for what one does not have, but for what belongs to others. It amounts to self-aggrandizement, the making of an idol of oneself (cf. Eph. 5:5; Col. 3:5). Paul denies that he has done this. Elsewhere he joins with others in roundly condemning pleonexia, which is so contrary to what we see in Christ (Rom. 1:29; Eph. 4:19; cf. Mark 7:22; Luke 12:15; also 1 Cor. 5:10f.; 6:10). He calls God to witness (again, see disc. on 2:4) that greed plays no part in their missionary service.
His third denial concerns a charge that they had looked for praise from men, whether from the Thessalonians (you) or anyone else (cf. 2:4). The gospel that they preached, or rather, the Christ of their gospel alone, deserved praise (cf. 2 Cor. 3:7–11; 4:7). For them, the Baptist’s words would have been a fitting motto: “He must increase, but I must decrease” (RSV John 3:30). The missionaries were concerned not with their own image but only with imaging Christ in their ministry.
2:6b–7 / It is debatable whether the opening statement of this verse should be read with what follows or with the previous verse. The decision rests on what we make of its meaning. Baros, the Greek word translated burden in NIV, can also mean “dignity” or “authority,” so that Paul could have been saying, “We were not looking for praise from men (v. 6), although, as apostles of Christ, we could have expected it” (lit. “we could have been with authority”). But if we accept the NIV translation as the more likely, the statement forms a fitting introduction to what follows, where Paul reminds the Thessalonians that the missionaries were not a burden (see disc. on 2:9).
The verb “to be able” (dynamai), NIV we could have been, expresses Paul’s conviction that the apostles of Christ have the right to be maintained by their churches. But it is a right that he chooses not to exercise, perhaps for a number of reasons including the desire to set an example (cf. 1:5; 1 Cor. 9:3–18; 2 Cor. 11:7–11; 2 Thess. 3:7–9; see also Matt. 10:5–15 par.; Luke 10:1–12). Notice that he includes his colleagues, Silas and Timothy, in this reference to apostles. Evidently he is using the term in the more general sense of “messenger.” Nevertheless, they were messengers of Christ, the genitive expressing an appointment in no sense inferior to that of the Twelve (for Christ, see note on 1:1).
So they had come as apostles of Christ to the Thessalonians and had been gentle among them, as Paul puts it, like a mother caring for her little children. The weight of MSS evidence is in favor of the reading which has them coming as “babes” among the Thessalonians. The two possible readings differ only by one letter in the Greek text (the letter nu), which happens to be the last letter of the previous word. Thus, that letter was either accidentally repeated, giving nepioi, “babes,” or accidentally omitted because it had just been written, giving epioi, “gentle.” When we remember that ancient writing ran all words together, we can see how easily such an accident, either way, could have happened. The question is, What is Paul most likely to have said? “Gentle” is consistent with his metaphor of a mother caring for children, but Paul was quite capable of mixing his metaphors and, indeed, of employing such a striking mixture as this, likening himself and his colleagues first to babes and then to a mother (see S. Fowl, “A Metaphor in Distress, A Reading of nepioi in 1 Thessalonians 2:7,” NTS 36 [3, 1990], pp. 469–73). Within a few verses, he likens them also to a father (2:11), and in verse 17 to parents bereft of their children. In the end, by a happy coincidence, the meaning is much the same whether he wrote “babes” or “gentle.” The one would imply the other, in the sense that they had gone out of their way to keep their message simple, “like a nurse among her children talking baby language” (Origen and Augustine, cited without reference by Morris). Trophos, in this verse, is “nurse” rather than “mother,” but the reflexive pronoun suggests that the image is of a nurse caring not for someone else’s children, but for her own. In short, the metaphor is of a nursing mother—as tender an image as one could find to represent the pastor and his/her people (cf. Gal. 4:19; also Num. 11:12; see W. A. Meeks, The Moral World of the First Christians [Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1986], pp. 125–30). The verb, thalpō, means strictly, “to warm,” but carries its secondary sense, “to care for,” “to cherish” (cf. Eph. 5:29).
2:8 / We loved you so much, Paul adds, and the verse ends as it begins on this note, that we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well. It is conjectured that the verb homeiromai, found only here in the NT, is “a term of endearment borrowed from the language of the nursery” (Wohlenberg, cited by Milligan) and that Paul is, therefore, sustaining the metaphor of the previous verse. In any case, the point of that verse is reinforced with this further assertion of the missionaries’ affection for the Thessalonians, such that they were pleased “to spend and be spent” in their interest (2 Cor. 12:15). The divine origin of the gospel is again indicated by the subjective genitive, “of God” (see disc. on 1:5). To preach such a gospel is a demanding task, but nowhere nearly as demanding as sharing one’s life with those to whom it is preached. But can the preacher do any less? “No servant is greater than his master,” said Jesus, “nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him” (John 13:16). But our Master, Jesus, “did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). As self-sacrifice lay at the heart of his ministry, so it does with all Christian ministry, whether it be preaching or any other.
2:9 / This was certainly the character of the service of Paul, Silas, and Timothy in Thessalonica, as Paul reminds his readers—or perhaps, he simply observes that they remembered (taking the verb, with NIV, to be indicative rather than imperative). But notice, he again calls them brothers (see disc. on 1:4), suggesting thereby that the burden of this service was lightened by love. He speaks of their toil and hardship. These words (kopos, see disc. on 1:3, and mochthos) mean much the same. Each speaks of hard work, and in combination, they underline the hardship that the missionaries endured. This is further emphasized by the statement, we worked night and day, whose word order reflects the fact that in the ancient world the working day started early, while it was still night (cf. Acts 20:31; 2 Thess. 3:8; also 1 Thess. 3:10). This was done, explains Paul, that we might not be a burden to anyone while we preached the gospel of God to you. These words may give some encouragement to those latter day missionaries who find that the only way into some communities is by using their technical skills. The verb “to be a burden” (epibareō, cf. 2 Thess. 3:8) derives from the same root as the noun in verse 7 and makes the same point as in that verse. The verb, “to preach” (kēryssō), commonly concerns the proclamation of the gospel. It denoted the work of a herald (kēryx; cf. 1 Tim. 2:7; 2 Tim. 1:11), who was not to entertain or to win approval, but to faithfully transmit the message that was entrusted to him, in this case, that message is “the gospel of God” (see disc. on 1:5).
2:10 / Again Paul calls on the Thessalonians (you, with some emphasis in the Greek) and on God to witness to the truth of what he says about the missionaries’ conduct. The confidence with which he does this is impressive (see the comment on 1:6). He uses three adverbs, holy, righteous and blameless. On the basis of their meaning in classical Greek, the first two are thought by some to refer to their Godward and their manward conduct respectively, and the third to their faultless conduct in both respects. It is unlikely, however, that these distinctions held good by the time that Paul wrote. The dative case that follows must also be taken into account. NIV reads among you, but it may be better to take the dative as meaning “towards you,” in which case the Thessalonians are exclusively in view, and the three adverbs are virtually synonymous. In short, the missionaries’ conduct towards them was irreproachable. Proper conduct is an essential factor in any missionary enterprise, whether in Paul’s world or in today’s Western society which has equally lost sight of its ethical boundaries. As for their Thessalonian converts, Paul describes them as you who believed, a common description of Christians in the NT, not surprisingly, for faith (in Christ) is central to Christianity. It puts us into the way of salvation and is the key to our continuing relationship with God. The latter is especially in view here since Paul uses the present participle.
2:11–12 / Yet again he calls on the Thessalonians to witness to the truth of what he says (cf. vv. 1, 2, 5, 9, 10). You know, he says, and the Greek text joins this to verse 10 with the conjunction kathaper, “just as.” That is, what the Thessalonians knew of the missionaries’ conduct corresponded exactly with Paul’s statement that they had been “holy, righteous, and blameless.” You know that we dealt with each of you. NIV adds we dealt to supply the missing verb in the Greek—some such verb, of course, is understood. Its direct object, literally, each of you (cf. 2 Thess. 1:3), conveys emphasis in the Greek, and, being in the singular, it draws attention to the fact that they were concerned not merely with numbers (“how many were at the service today?”), but with their converts as individuals (cf. Col. 1:28 with its repeated “everyone”—again, the singular). These they care for as tenderly as a mother nurses her child (see disc. on 2:7) and as a father deals with (again understood in the Greek) his own children. Being like a father to the Thessalonians meant encouraging them (the Gk. verb, parakaleō, has a range of meanings, see disc. on 3:2, but most often in the NT it has the meaning given here, especially when coupled with comforting, paramytheomai, cf. 5:14). Being like a father also meant urging (martyromai) them to live lives worthy of God. The verb has a more authoritative nuance than the others. It had by this time lost its original sense of invoking witnesses (martyrēs), but it retained something of the sense of witnessing, “to solemnly affirm” and so “to make an urgent appeal.” The appeal, in this case, was literally “to walk worthily of God.” The Greek construction, eis to with the infinitive (“to walk”) expresses the goal to which the missionaries urged their converts. There is no higher purpose in life than this (for the same construction expressing purpose cf. 3:2, 10, 13; 4:9; 2 Thess. 2:2; and for the similar pros to with the infinitive, v. 9; see also disc. on v. 16).
The figure of walking (peripateō) with reference to conduct is a common one in the NT and especially in Paul (cf. 4:1, 12; 2 Thess. 3:6, 11; cf. also the use of “way” for manner of life, Acts 9:2; 19:9, 23; 24:14, 22; 1 Cor. 4:17). “Walking” can indicate good or bad conduct (cf. 2 Cor. 4:2; 10:2). Here, of course, it is good and, indeed, with the infinitive in the present tense, it indicates persistence in doing good. Specifically, Paul wanted their lives to persistently reflect the life of God—striving to be perfect because God is perfect (Matt. 5:48), to be loving because God is love (John 13:34; 1 John 4:16). This is “to walk worthily” of God and only such a life befits the people of God’s kingdom.
Perhaps Paul arrived at his description of God as the one who calls you into his kingdom and glory via this train of thought. A variant reading, with the aorist participle, would hark back to God’s “call” in Christ—“come to me” (Matt. 11:28 etc.)—or to that moment when the believer first responded to that call. But NIV accepts the better reading of the present participle, which reminds us that God goes on calling to the weary and the burdened. See also 5:24 where the present participle appears again: “the one who calls you is faithful” (cf. Rom. 8:30; 1 Cor. 1:9). It can still be said that, while this age continues, “now is the time of God’s favor, now is the day of salvation” (2 Cor. 6:2). The two concepts of kingdom and of glory are drawn together in the phrase before us by the single preposition and article to give the sense, “God’s glorious kingdom.” This denotes that aspect of his kingdom that is yet to be revealed, when the restoration of God’s rule to his rebellious creation will be completed. It began with Christ’s coming and will be completed at his return (see note) in glory (see, e.g., Matt. 16:27; 19:28; 24:30; 25:31). Paul thereby discloses one of the major themes of these letters (cf. 2 Thess. 1:5). In 2 Thessalonians 2:14 the same thought of future glory is found, but what is here spoken of as God’s is there ascribed to Jesus—“the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ.” For Paul, the two are One (see disc. on 3:11 and 2 Thess. 2:16).
2:13 / Paul returns to his theme of thanksgiving (see disc. on 1:2–10). Using language similar to that in chapter 1, he tells his readers, we also thank God continually (cf. 1:2; 5:17). Prefaced in the Greek by the phrase, “because of this” (dia touto), this statement looks ahead to the explanatory clause, “because, when you received.” The redundant phrase is wisely omitted by NIV. Whether “also” should be read with “thank” or with the pronoun “we” remains unclear. The Greek word order favors the latter. This reading gives the impression that Paul was responding to secondhand news or perhaps to an earlier letter that reported that the Thessalonians were giving thanks to God. Paul, Silas, and Timothy now echo this thanks to God. In chapter 1, the thanksgiving was for the coming of the gospel to their city; here it is for the Thessalonians’ reception of it as the word of God. He speaks of this twice in the one verse: you received the word of God … you accepted it. Of the two different verbs, the first, paralambanō, apparently functioned almost as a technical term for the reception of the Christian faith (cf. 4:1; 2 Thess. 3:6 and its use with the correlative verb, paradidomi, “to hand down,” in 1 Cor. 11:23; 15:3; see note on 2:13); the second, dechomai adds the thought that they had welcomed what they had received (cf. 1:6; 2 Thess. 2:10).
Emphasis is laid on the fact that what they received was the word of God. That phrase is repeated (at least, as NIV understands it; see note on 2:13) and Paul further underscores his point by stating that it was not the word of men (cf. Gal. 1:11f.) but was actually “just as” (kathōs) he had described it. Paul could not have expressed himself much more strongly than this. The strength of his conviction about the gospel explains his commitment to preaching it. On one occasion, Luke graphically describes Paul as being “seized by the word” (Acts 18:5), as though it had overpowered him, and he was no longer master of when he would preach but the servant of a gospel that would be preached “in season and out” (2 Tim. 4:2). But there had to be a preacher, and so he adds that it was the word of God which you heard from us. It was also the word which is at work in you who believe. Here another link is forged with the earlier thanksgiving, which spoke of the gospel coming to the Thessalonians with power (1:5). The changing lives of those who received it—the present tense of the verb energeō, “to be at work,” implies that the work is still in process—verifies that the gospel is the word of God. The description of its recipients as those who believe reminds us once again that faith is the key that opens the door (from the inside) to God’s word (cf. Acts 14:27; Rev. 3:20) and so puts us in the path of God’s salvation.
2:14 / In 1:6 Paul remarks that the Thessalonians were their imitators, and imitators therefore of the Lord in terms of conduct. But the likeness to their mentors did not end there. They also suffered (as of necessity since they were Christians; the promise of Jesus to his followers is not popularity but persecution; see disc. on 3:3). Just like (kathōs) God’s churches in Judea, said Paul, you suffered from your own countrymen. The churches in question comprised the original church in Jerusalem, which itself may have been made up of a number of different groups (see Acts 6:1), and those others which subsequently sprang up following the scattering of its members (like seed) through persecution (see Acts 8:1, 4; 11:19). In referring to the Judean churches, Paul uses the participle of the verb “to be”—“the churches being in, …” which appears to have been a quasi-technical term for the church in a particular place, as we would say, “the local church” (Acts 11:22; 13:1). But alongside this is another phrase that points to what all (true) churches have in common, and this constitutes them as part of the one church: they are in Christ Jesus (cf. Acts 9:31 where the daughter churches of Jerusalem are spoken of collectively as “the church [singular] throughout Judea, Galilee and Samaria”; with the phrase, “in Christ Jesus,” cf. “in the Lord,” 3:8 and for Christ, see note on 1:1). Paul could never forget his own part in persecuting God’s churches, and this no doubt came to mind now as he wrote; but whether he was referring specifically to that persecution or to a later one (e.g., Acts 12:1) we cannot tell (see note on 2:14).
On the one hand, the point of comparison between the church in Thessalonica and God’s churches in Judea may extend beyond their suffering to its cause: the Jews who killed the Lord Jesus (for Lord, see note on 1:1). From Luke’s brief account of the mission in Thessalonica, it was evidently the Jews who instigated the riot that forced Paul, Silas, and Timothy to leave. On the other hand, Paul’s use here of the word symphyletēs, your own countrymen, may argue against blaming the Jews for the Thessalonians’ present troubles. If the Thessalonian church was now a predominantly Gentile church, the argument is even stronger, assuming, of course, that the Jews of Thessalonica were deemed by Paul to be foreigners. Others may have thought of them as such, but would Paul have done so? The condemnation of the Jews in verses 15 and 16 is general, extending beyond their activities in Judea to Paul’s experience of their resistance to the gospel in the course of his missionary journeys, and could be understood to include Thessalonica. Even so, such a passage as this must always be set over against a passage like Romans 9–11, where we see the apostle anguishing for his fellow Jews, wishing that he himself could be “cursed and cut off from Christ” for their sake (Rom. 9:3). A frank recognition of guilt does not preclude love for the guilty—a point that ought not to be lost on us (cf. Rom. 5:8).
2:15–16 / These verses contain a fivefold condemnation of the Jews ranging from what they did to Jesus, to what they continued to do to prevent his followers from preaching the gospel. (1) It was they who killed the Lord Jesus and the prophets. Only here, in all his writings, does Paul explicitly lay this charge against his fellow Jews (cf. 1 Cor. 2:8; Col. 2:15). Moreover, the way he does it magnifies the enormity of what they had done. His unusual word order draws attention to the fact that the Jesus whom they killed was the Lord. The title stands at the front of the sentence—“the Lord they killed, even Jesus”—with all the implications of glory that that title could bear (cf. Acts 2:32–36 and see note on 1:1).
What they did to Jesus was the climax of a history in which they had done the same thing to the prophets “who predicted the coming of the Righteous One” (Acts 7:52; cf. Matt. 23:37; Luke 11:47–51; 13:33f.; Mart. Isa. 5:1–14; Tertullian, Scorpiace 8; Jerome, Adversus Jovinianum 2.37). (2) Now they were even persecuting Jesus’ followers: (and also drove us out). The reference may be a general one, but it is more likely a specific allusion to what happened in Macedonia (Acts 17:1–14; cf. 13:50; 14:5, 19; 17:13; 18:6; 19:9).
(3) They displease God is a charge that Paul also leveled against Gentiles who were “controlled by [their] sinful nature” and, therefore, could not “please God” (Rom. 8:8; cf. 1 Thess. 4:1). Indeed, the charge is leveled not against the Jews as Jews, but against them as those who (like many Gentiles) rejected Christ. In this connection, Paul adds (4) that they are hostile to all men. This charge echoes what was widely said of the Jews at that time, as it was soon to be said of Christians (see Tacitus, History 5.5.2; Josephus, Against Apion 2.121, and, with reference to Christians, Tacitus, Annals 15.44.5). It must be asked whether Paul would have joined in condemning his fellow Jews in those terms. Not, perhaps, on the same grounds. But on the grounds of their rejection of Christ out of their resistance to the gospel, he may well have used this language against them. The gospel was for the general good, so that any hindrance of it was an act of hostility to all men. So NIV interprets this charge, linking it to what follows: (5) they keep us from speaking to the Gentiles. The connection is not as explicit in the Greek as in our version, but it is implied in the train of thought by the present participle, which conveys the persistent attitude of the Jews: “They keep on (trying) to keep us from speaking” (see the passages in Acts listed above which bear this out). The speaking was to the end that they (the Gentiles) may be saved. Salvation is conceived of here in the broadest sense and includes the whole spectrum of God’s grace. By resisting that grace and hindering it in others, the Jews, said Paul, always heap up their sins to the limit. This comment gathers up all the charges listed above.
The verb, anaplēroō perhaps suggests an image of a cup—to “fill up” might be better than “to heap up.” The prefix ana-perhaps adds the thought that they had filled the cup of their sins to the full (cf. Matt. 23:32). The verb, an infinitive in a prepositional phrase with eis, expresses the purpose of those concerned (see disc. on 2:12), but in this instance, it must be understood as expressing the result. This leads to Paul’s final declaration: The wrath of God has come upon them at last (see disc. on 1:10). The use and form of the verb phthanō raises two questions: First, what does the verb itself mean? Second, what is the significance of the tense? Strictly speaking, it means “to come before,” “to anticipate,” and it bears this sense in 4:15. But generally, by the time that Paul wrote, it meant simply “to come.” Its aorist tense (in the indicative mood) generally connotes past time, but in a prophetic context, it may depict something future but so certain that it can be spoken of as if past. The question is, Was Paul saying that God’s wrath had come—that it had already manifested itself, in the strict sense of the verb, in anticipation of the eschatological judgment? Or was he speaking prophetically of the wrath that was yet to be revealed from heaven (Rom. 1:18)? And if the former, what had happened? The classic case (as we suppose) of a historical anticipation of the judgment is the fall of Jerusalem in A.D. 70 (see Mark 13), and assuming that this is in view here, some have held these verses to be a later interpolation (1 Thessalonians was written about A.D. 51; see Introduction). But there is nothing that compels us to identify this passage and, in particular, the second half of verse 16 with that disaster. An alternative suggestion (always assuming that the reference is to something past and not future) contends that Paul had in mind the series of disasters in A.D. 49 involving Jews, including a massacre in the temple (Josephus, War 2.224–227; Ant. 20.105–112) and their expulsion from Rome (Suetonuis, Claudius 25.4; cf. Acts 18:2 and see further, Williams, Acts, pp. 319f.). But in the context of this letter and in the light of 1:10 especially, it may be best to understand the reference as eschatological—the wrath is yet to come upon them. In this case the aorist (past) tense would be functioning in the prophetic manner to express what is future. The marginal reading of the NIV, “fully,” is better than at last for eis telos, since the thought is that the Jews, in common with all who reject Christ, will in that day drink to the dregs the cup of God’s wrath that is filled by their sins.
2:2 / Insulted in Philippi: The insult lay not simply in their being mistreated as Roman citizens, but in the treatment itself. They were publicly stripped, evidently at the hands of the magistrates themselves (not apparent in NIV), and beaten, without any inquiry into the charges (Acts 16:22–24; see Williams, Acts, p. 288).
2:3 / Impure motives: Schmithals, p. 145, sees a reference here to the collection for the relief of the Christian poor in Jerusalem (cf. Acts 24:17; Rom. 15:25–31; 1 Cor. 16:1–4; 2 Cor. 8–9), suggesting that Paul had suddenly demanded a contribution from the Thessalonians after having earlier refused to live at their expense. It is highly unlikely, however, that he was already working on the collection at this time. The desperate plight of the Judean Christians may have been borne in upon him only on his fleeting visit to the city (as we suppose) in Acts 18:22, so that it was not until his years in Ephesus (Acts 19) that he did anything to organize for their relief. The epistles that stem from this period reflect this. See Williams, Acts, pp. 323, 336.
2:6 / Apostles of Christ: Early use of the term “apostle” appears to be restricted to the Twelve (Acts 1:2, 6, 12; 2:43; 4:35, 37; 5:2, 12, 18; 8:1) or, at least, this is how Luke generally uses the term. Only twice, in Acts 14:4, 14, does he extend the category to include Paul and Barnabas. Paul, though, readily applied the title to a wider group, which included James, the Lord’s brother (1 Cor. 15:7; Gal. 1:19), and Andronicus and Junia (not Junias as NIV, Rom. 16:7). It is a question, however, whether he would have applied it so widely as to include Timothy, his own “true son in the faith” (1 Tim. 1:2). If 1 Corinthians 9:1 can be taken as a statement of apostolic criteria, namely, that he or she had “seen Jesus our Lord” (risen) (cf. Acts 1:21), this would rule out Timothy; and we must understand apostles here (supposing that Timothy is included in the reference) in the more general sense of messengers (cf. John 13:16; 2 Cor. 8:23; Phil. 2:25).
2:9 / We worked night and day: Paul appears committed to the principle of self-support (cf. 1 Cor. 9:6), which, in his case, meant making tents or, more generally, working in leather (see R. F. Hock, The Social Context of Paul’s Ministry: Tent Making and Apostleship [Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1980], p. 21). Rabbis were expected to learn and practice a trade (cf. Pirqe ’Abot 2.2), and Paul must have been glad of this in later life as he worked to support his ministry (cf. Acts 20:34; 1 Cor. 4:12; 9:3–19; 2 Cor. 11:7ff.; 2 Thess. 3:8). During his time at Thessalonica, more than once he received gifts from the church in Philippi to support his ministry (cf. Phil. 4:15f.). While the Thessalonians may have known this (see disc. on 2:5f.), rather than embarrass them, Paul may have chosen to not mention that outside help, since he had not accepted the support of the Thessalonians. In any case, the gifts from Philippi were probably not sufficient for keeping body and soul together and, therefore, they had no bearing on his point.
2:12 / His kingdom and glory: For a proper understanding of the term “the kingdom of God,” note that both the Greek and the Hebrew or Aramaic words thus translated signify kingship rather than kingdom; rule rather than realm. Essentially, therefore, the kingdom of God “is not a community of Christians nor an inner life of the soul, nor yet an earthly paradise which mankind is bringing into being and which is in the process of development” (G. Lundstrom, The Kingdom of God in the Teaching of Jesus [Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, 1963], p. 232), though it might embrace all these notions. Rather, it is God acting in his kingly power, expressing sovereignty and, in particular, asserting his rule both for the overthrow of Satan (see note on 2:18) and for the restoration of humanity to a relationship with himself. But this was conceived of in various ways: sometimes in terms of God’s eternal sovereignty and sometimes in terms of our present experience of him, but chiefly in terms of the kingdom’s future manifestation. Its onset would be marked by the “day of the Lord” when God and/or his Messiah would appear (see note on 1:1), the dead would be raised, God would vindicate the righteous and judge the unrighteous (Joel 2:31; Amos 5:18–20; Mal. 4:5), and the new age would be ushered in. Then all would know God, from the least to the greatest, and he would forgive them (Jer. 31:34) and pour out his Spirit upon them (Joel 2:28).
For Jesus’ contemporaries as for all generations before them, the kingdom conceived of in these terms was no more than a distant hope. With what astonishment, therefore, must they have heard Jesus’ announcement of the kingdom’s arrival (see, e.g., Mark 1:22, 27). “The time has come,” he said (i.e., the anticipated time of its manifestation), “the kingdom of God” has arrived (Mark 1:15; cf., e.g., Luke 17:21). But, if Jesus was right (and the evidence of his life, his miracles, his resurrection, and the Pentecostal outpouring assure us that he was), then the kingdom clearly had not come in the manner expected. For the time being, it remained a personal and partial (though real) experience for those who submitted to God’s rule in Jesus Christ (cf. 1 Cor. 13:12). Only when Jesus returns will the kingdom be fully established and God’s rule become all in all (cf. 1 Cor. 15:24f.). Thus the day of the Lord that arrived with the coming of Jesus has been drawn out until his return. Much of the language of the OT describing the day of the Lord is applied by the NT to Jesus and to the day of his return—he is viewed as the Lord whose day it was. Hence, in addition to being called the day of the Lord (cf. 1 Cor. 5:5; 1 Thess. 5:2; 2 Thess. 2:2; 2 Pet. 3:10), it is called “the day of Christ” (Phil. 1:10; 2:16), “the day of Christ Jesus” (Phil. 1:6), “the day of the Lord Jesus” (2 Cor. 1:14), “the day of our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Cor. 1:8), and sometimes simply as “the day” (Rom. 13:12; 1 Cor. 3:13; 1 Thess. 5:4; Heb. 10:25) or “that day” (2 Thess. 1:10 in Greek; not apparent in NIV). See further Williams, Promise, esp. pp. 19–35.
2:13 / When you received the word of God: As discussed above, the verb paralambanō, “to receive,” and its correlative, paradidomi, “to hand down,” were apparently almost technical terms for the reception and transmission of the Christian faith, “the tradition” (paradosis, see disc. on 2 Thess. 2:15). Broadly speaking, this tradition had three components: (1) a summary of the gospel story, (2) a rehearsal of the deeds and words of Jesus, and (3) an outline of how his followers should behave. The latter was apparently transmitted in an ordered form under subject headings such as “Put off (old vices),” “Put on (new virtues),” “Be subject (to those in authority and to one another),” “Watch and pray” (cf. Col. 3:5–4:6 for such a catechesis, and Rom. 6:17 for reference to the catechesis which was handed down [paradidomi] to the Roman Christians; both Jesus himself [Col. 2:6f.] and the apostles [Phil. 4:9; 2 Thess. 3:6–10] were “received” [paralambanō] as exemplars of this tradition).
The word of God which you heard from us (logon akoēs par’ hēmōn tou theou): NIV takes logon closely with tou theou, “the word of God,” and akoēs with par’ hēmōn, “which you heard from us.” This can be read differently, though to the same effect, by staying closer to the word order of the Greek: “you received the word of hearing (i.e., the word which you heard) from us, (but it was) God’s (word).” Tou theou may be placed at the end for emphasis and intended, thereby, to stand in contrast to par’ hēmōn, “from us”—“you heard us speaking, but in reality it was God’s word that you heard, not a piece of interesting human wisdom, but the very word of God.” That is the important thing. The gospel is God’s word, not a human invention. For logon akoēs, cf. Heb. 4:2; see also Rom. 10:17; Gal. 3:2, 5.
2:14 / The … things those (Judean) churches suffered from the Jews: We have already considered (see disc. on 1:6) the difficulty of identifying precisely what things … suffered Paul had in mind. Perhaps it was the persecution in which he himself had played a part (cf. Acts 8:1–3; 9:1f.). On those occasions when he plainly referred to this persecution, however, he spoke explicitly of his own role. There is no hint of that here (cf. Gal. 1:22f.; 1 Tim. 1:12–14). That the persecution of Acts 12:1 was seemingly aimed chiefly at the apostles and not at the rank-and-file lends further weight against the view that it was the persecution in which Paul played a role. Bruce suggests that we should think here of a more recent persecution associated with the increase of Zealot activities in Judea around the time of Ventidius Cumanus’ arrival as procurator in A.D. 48 (cf. Josephus, Ant. 20.105–135. See also R. Jewett, “The Agitators and the Galatian Congregation,” NTS 17 [1970–71], pp. 198–212).
§4 Paul’s Longing to See the Thessalonians (1 Thess. 2:17–3:5)
Paul reflects “the kindness and sternness” of God as he moves from denouncing the Jews and defending himself against their slanders (2:1–16) to revealing his concern for the Thessalonians. He opens his heart, telling them how much they (the missionaries)—and none more than himself—long to see them. But he had been prevented thus far from returning (2:17–20). Therefore, to set their mind at rest and to “strengthen and encourage” them in what he knew to be difficult and dangerous times, he sent Timothy from Athens (3:1–5). In a sense, in Timothy Paul was himself present (he was “torn away … in person, not in thought,” v. 17), and through Timothy, Paul again exercised his apostolic ministry to them. The notion of Paul’s coming through his emissary leads R. W. Funk to describe this section as “the apostolic parousia” (in Christian History and Interpretation: Studies Presented to John Knox, ed. W. R. Farmer, C. F. D. Moule, R. R. Niebuhr [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1967], pp. 249–68). This letter was written in response to Timothy’s subsequent report. Details supplied in 3:1–5 (see also disc. on 3:6–8) supplement the narrative of Acts 17.
2:17 / The events that had forced the missionaries to leave Thessalonica (Acts 17:5–10) are described by Paul in terms of a bereavement. Strictly, the verb aporphanizō expresses a parent’s loss of a child: “we were bereft of you” (NIV we were torn away from you). Consequently, whether consciously or not, he is maintaining the parental metaphor of the previous section (2:7, 11). Their loss, he says, was for a short time—or so they hoped. In Paul’s case, it would be some five years, as far as we can tell, before he would see them again (Acts 20:2f. by implication). Meanwhile, he was present with them at least in thought, if not in person (cf. 1 Cor. 5:3–5; also Gal. 4:20 for a similar paternal longing to be with his children). The Greek is literally, “in heart,” and this, more than the rendering of NIV, captures Paul’s affection for them (see disc. on 2:4). Paul’s is the burning pastoral heart that marks the genuine servant of God. His deep concern is further conveyed in what follows: out of our intense longing we made every effort to see you. Words pile up, each reinforcing the other, as Paul attempts to share with his readers what he and the others felt for them. The verb spoudazō “combines the idea of speed and diligence, and conveys an impression of eagerness, of making a quick and serious effort” (Morris). To this is added the comparative perissoterōs, “more abundantly,” underlining their eagerness, the more so as we recognize that the comparative in the NT had practically replaced the superlative, “most abundantly.” And then, as if that were not enough, he adds, “with great desire” (en pollē epithymia). Epithymia speaks of passion, often in the sense of lust, but here of their passionate longing for their friends.
2:18 / We wanted to come to you, Paul explains. The conjunction for (dioti) links this verse to the last and explains their longing. He especially wanted to come again and again (this phrase is better taken with I, Paul than with “we wanted to come”), but Satan hindered both him and his colleagues from returning to Thessalonica. This is a general statement to which Timothy’s return visit, mentioned in 3:1ff., was the exception that proved the rule (cf. Rom. 15:22; Gal. 5:7 for the enkoptō in this sense of “to hinder”; for the activity of Satan, cf. 1 Thess. 3:5; 2 Thess. 2:9; 3:3). In the NT, Satan’s activities are spoken of only in relation to Christians and his attempts to hinder them in one way or another. But equally, Satan is presented as being always subject to the greater power of God. We need not doubt, then, that God overrules these hindrances. However we view the matter (and Paul was evidently frustrated and disappointed by what had happened in this case), God’s purpose is set forward, and Satan cannot hinder that purpose. In what sense or by what means Satan had prevented the missionaries from returning to Thessalonica, we can only guess. Presumably the Thessalonians knew what Paul meant. The phrase “again and again” (kai hapax kai dis, “and once and twice,” indicating “a plurality of occasions without exact specification,” cf. Phil. 4:16) makes the guessing more difficult. Evidently something had consistently hindered their coming. This may rule out sickness, which is commonly attributed to Satan (see, e.g., 2 Cor. 12:7), since it is most unlikely that the three of them or, if we leave out Timothy, that Paul and Silas would have been so sick for so long that neither could go. More likely, the ban imposed by the Thessalonian magistrates on their preaching had prevented their return (Acts 17:9 and see Introduction on The Founding of the Church). Paul’s reference to Satan as the real power behind “the coming of the lawless one” in 2 Thessalonians 2:9 may be reason for thinking that he viewed him also as the power behind the lawless rioting of Acts 17:5 and the consequent action of the magistrates (cf. Eph. 6:12). At least it is beyond any doubt that Paul longed intensely to see the Thessalonian Christians. The next verse explains why.
2:19 / We wanted to come to you, he declares, for (gar) what is our hope, our joy, or the crown in which we will glory …? Is it not you? In a generally prosaic letter, Paul rises here to lyrical heights. He is proud of the Thessalonians, as a parent of his children. His hope is that “he who began a good work in (them) will carry it on to completion” (Phil. 1:6). That work is his joy, and its completion will be his crown. His metaphor is of the wreath awarded to the winner of an event in the games. Every game had a wreath distinctive to it—the olive wreath of the Olympian games, the laurel of the Pythian games, the parsley of the Nemean games, etc. In Paul’s contest the Thessalonians were his crown—one that would last forever (cf. 1 Cor. 9:25) and would be lasting proof that he had not run in vain (cf. 3:5; Gal. 2:2; Phil. 2:16). In such a crown, he says, we will glory. Here the Greek simply asks, “What is our … crown of kauchēsis?” The word can sometimes mean “boasting” (cf., e.g., Rom. 3:27; 2 Cor. 11:10, 17) but in this context is best translated “glory.” Paul is maintaining the metaphor of the games and sees himself like an athlete, boasting, in the sense of glorying in his victory before the president’s podium, that is, in the presence of our Lord Jesus when he comes. Only then, in that presence, will his achievement be truly assessed (cf. 1 Cor. 3:11–15; 4:3–5; for the phrase, “in the presence of” cf. 3:9, 13)—not now, not by others, not even by himself, but only by Jesus en te autou parousia, “in his parousia,” The metaphor continues. Games were often held in honor of a visiting dignitary, whose arrival would be spoken of as his parousia, his “coming,” or his “being present” (see A. Deissmann, Light from the Ancient East [London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1927], p. 372, and the disc. on 4:17 of apantēsis, the word used of welcoming the new arrival). In a religious connection, parousia also depicted the coming of a god (Josephus applies it in this way to the God of Israel [Ant. 3.80, 203; 9.55]). This adds further color to Paul’s application of the word to Jesus’ coming (six times in the Thessalonian letters: here and in 3:13; 4:15; 5:23; 2 Thess. 2:1, 8 and elsewhere only in 1 Cor. 15:23; cf. also Matt. 24:3, 27, 37, 39; James 5:7f.; 1 John 2:28; 2 Pet. 1:16; 3:4, 12; the word had also a mundane application, cf. e.g., 1 Cor. 16:17; 2 Cor. 7:6).
2:20 / This verse offers the answer to the question of verse 19, “Is it not you?” Indeed, says Paul (indicating the affirmative by the interrogative ouchi), it is you. You are our crown because (gar) you are our glory (doxa) and joy. Kauchēsis (2:19) indicates the activity, doxa the grounds of his glorying in the Thessalonians. As we might say, “They did him credit.” (For a similar use of doxa, cf. 1 Cor. 11:7; 2 Cor. 8:23). The Thessalonians are his pride; they are also his joy. This is why he sends Timothy to them.
3:1–3 / The chapter division interrupts the connection between 2:20 (or rather 2:17–20) and 3:1–3, the latter verses expressing the outcome of the former. Our text has we sent. The use of the plural pronoun is awkward throughout the letter and never more so than in these verses. The letter carries all the hallmarks of a Pauline epistle, removing any doubt who wrote the letter (see Introduction on The Authenticity of 1 Thessalonians). But since Paul names his colleagues in the address, that dictates the use of “we” throughout the letter. But in the events described here, Silas was apparently still in Berea (Acts 17:14f.), and although Timothy may have been consulted when he rejoined Paul in Athens, it was Paul’s own decision to send him back to Thessalonica, thus leaving the apostle on his own until they were all reunited in Corinth (Acts 18:5). Events may be more complex than Luke’s narrative in Acts would have us believe. Perhaps on one occasion all three were together in Athens, in which case the “we” of this passage represents a decision taken by Paul and Silas together. The difficulty may be resolved in verse 5 where Paul chooses the singular, “I sent.” However, some interpret that verse as Paul’s emphasizing his own feelings as distinct from those of his colleagues and their joint decision in verse 1. If verse 5 is a reiteration of verse 1 as we suppose it is, and if the decision to send Timothy back was Paul’s alone, we must understand the “we” of verse 1 as editorial. That is, it was Paul who could stand his separation from the Thessalonians no longer. The verb stegō means “to keep watertight” and so “to contain,” and then “to endure” (cf. 3:5; 1 Cor. 9:12; 13:7)—he could contain himself no longer, with the present participle underlining the intensity of his feeling. So desperately does he want to be in touch with the Thessalonians that he is prepared “to be abandoned” (the sense of kataleipō, NIV to be left). This word helps us feel something of Paul’s apprehension at being left alone in these foreign cities (cf. 1 Cor. 2:3). One writer describes Paul’s experience as a “kind of widowhood.” But it was not too great a price to pay to find out how his children were faring.
His emissary Timothy receives a twofold description. Whatever his probably subordinate role was in the missionary team, he is nevertheless their brother in Christ. This is more than merely a recognition of Timothy’s status: it is a term of endearment. He is also God’s fellow worker. There are a number of variants to this text, but the very boldness of the reading accepted by NIV is the best proof of its authenticity. But even accepting this reading, differences of interpretation remain. Was Timothy a fellow worker with the others in God’s work? Or was he God’s fellow worker? From time to time, Paul speaks of others as his (or our) fellow worker(s) (Rom. 16:3, 9, 21; Phil. 2:25; Philem. 1, 24), whose qualifying genitive indicates with whom they worked. On that analogy, the qualifying genitive, “of God,” indicates with whom Timothy worked. He and God were in partnership! Compare this description with the report in Acts 14:27 of how God worked with Paul and Barnabas (cf. Acts 15:4; NIV misses the point in both references). To speak of our working with God or of God with us (rather than simply through us) draws attention to the importance of the human agent in mission. At the same time, it acknowledges that no missionary enterprise can succeed without God. Consider Acts 16:14: Paul spoke to Lydia, and God opened her heart (cf. also Acts 2:47). But not any speaking will do to achieve such a result. Thus Timothy was God’s fellow worker in … the gospel of Christ. The genitive is objective (for Christ, see note on 1:1). It is the gospel of which Christ is the content (see disc. on 1:5). By no other “gospel” can we—God working with us—open hearts.
Paul’s purpose (see disc. on 2:12) in sending Timothy, apart from expressing his own longing to be in touch with them, is to strengthen and encourage them (cf. 4:1 for the emphasis given by doubling up verbs). Timothy could do so in his own right, but as Paul’s emissary, he assures the Thessalonians of Paul’s continuing concern. Sterizō means “to fix,” “to make fast” (from sterinx, “a support”) and expresses precisely what converts need—the kind of support that fixes them securely in the faith. “To encourage” (parakaleō) shares this sense. Strictly, it means “to call to one’s side,” with the implication of giving aid, hence specifically, “to encourage” or “to comfort,” or “to appeal” to someone, or “to urge” someone to action (cf. 2:12; 3:7; 4:1, 10, 18; 5:11, 14; 2 Thess. 2:17; 3:12; the noun paraklēsis shares the same range of meanings as the verb; cf. 2:3; 2 Thess. 2:16). The verb is qualified by in your faith, where the Greek has the preposition hyper, “for the sake of your faith.” Faith here might be subjective or objective, either their trust—Timothy encouraging them to go on trusting God and Christ to bring them to God—or the body of teaching, the faith, that was the basis of that trust. Thus Timothy encourages them to remain true to that faith (for faith, pistis, cf. 1:3, 8; 3:5, 6, 7, 10; 5:8; 2 Thess. 1:3, 4, 11; 2:13; 3:2).
A further purpose in sending Timothy is so that no one would be unsettled by these trials. The verb, sainō, occurs only here in the NT. It is used of dogs, “to wag the tail,” but it has several derived meanings including the one adopted by NIV, “to unsettle” (attested in the papyri). The trials (thlipsis, lit. “pressures”) are those referred to in 1:6 and 2:14—the pressures of persecution. You know quite well, Paul adds, that we were destined for them—the verb keimai, “to be laid down,” “destined,” suggests something fixed: there is an inevitability about trials. Like Jesus before him, Paul spells out the truth that trials are part of the package of being a Christian. They come with the world in which we live, but in addition, they are the product of the prince of this world’s special targeting of the Christian (cf. 2:18; 3:5). “In this world,” Jesus warned, “you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome this world”—and its prince (John 16:33; cf. Matt. 5:11f.; Mark 8:34ff.; John 12:31; 14:30; 15:18–21; 16:11; Acts 14:22; Phil. 1:29). Believers will share in that victory and, in a sense, they already have. But as long as this age lasts, they must not expect an easy life. But Paul is saying something more than this. Trials are a part of God’s purpose for us. Why, we do not know, but acceptance of the proposition that “we were destined for them” does put meaning into life when difficult and dark days overtake us (see disc. on 1:6 for the positive outcome of suffering in building character).
3:4 / Paul had warned the Thessalonians along these lines before. When we were with you (for pros with the accusative in the sense of “with,” cf. Mark 6:3; John 1:1) we kept telling you (impf.), he reminds them (prolegō means “to tell beforehand,” “to tell plainly”), that we would be persecuted. For the sake of variety NIV employs this word, but the Greek word is the same as before, only now in the verbal form, “to suffer trials” (thlibō, cf. 2 Thess. 1:6f.). In this context it means persecution. Instead of using the verb in the simple future, Paul strengthens the statement by using mellō and making the verb an infinitive, “to be about to suffer” (present infinitive for an ongoing suffering). This also reinforces the notion that these trials are inevitable (cf. 3:3). And it turned out that way, literally “just as (kathōs) it happened”—there was an exact correspondence between his prediction and its outcome. To which he adds, as though quashing any lingering doubts on the matter, as you well know.
3:5 / This verse reiterates 3:1 (see disc. above), and the editorial “we” of that verse now becomes the singular pronoun “I.” For this reason (dia touto), he says (and the phrase points to what follows and gives it some weight; cf. 3:7), when I could stand it (i.e., his intense longing for the Thessalonians, cf. 2:17) no longer, I sent to find out about your faith. Here there can be little doubt that “faith” (pistis) means their trust in God and in Christ (see disc. on 3:2). It has been suggested that pistis in this verse means “faithfulness.” That meaning is possible, but there is no compelling reason to accept it. He was anxious about their faith on two grounds. I was afraid that in some way the tempter might have tempted you. In such a sentence (in the Greek), we might expect Paul to use the subjunctive mood, but he uses the indicative, showing his awareness that they had indeed been tempted (peirazō, “to test,” cf. dokimazō, 2:4, etc.) by Satan, the same malignant being who had thwarted his attempts to come to them (cf. 2:18; also Matt. 4:3; 1 Cor. 7:5) and who stood behind whatever human agents may have been the immediate cause of their trials. But in stating the second reason for his anxiety, namely, that our efforts might have been useless, he does use the subjunctive, for here there was no ground for concern. The Thessalonians had not succumbed to Satan’s temptation. They had not abandoned their faith. The missionaries’ hard work (kopos, see disc. on 1:3) in preaching the gospel to them had not been empty (kenos, see disc. on 2:1) in terms of its lasting results. Satan could not hinder God’s purpose (see disc. on 2:18).
2:18 / Satan, Heb. Satan, Gk. Satanas, meaning basically “adversary” (the word is so rendered, e.g., in Num. 22:22): The OT references to Satan are few, but in them he is consistently represented as working against the best interests of men and women (see, e.g., 1 Chron. 21:1; Job 1:7–2:9; Ps. 109:6; Zech. 3:1f.). This characterization is more distinct in the NT, where he is found to be the adversary not only of men and women but of God. Jesus expressly comes to overthrow Satan (cf. 1 John 3:8; Heb. 2:14 and see note on 2:12). This role of the Savior permeates the whole of the NT. In the Thessalonian letters, Paul calls the adversary Satan (cf. 2 Cor. 2:11; 11:14; also Matt. 16:23; Luke 22:3; John 13:27; Acts 5:3), the tempter (3:5), and probably the evil one (2 Thess. 3:3, see disc.). Elsewhere, Paul refers to him as the devil (Eph. 4:27; 6:11; 1 Tim. 3:7; 2 Tim. 2:26; cf. Matt. 4:1–11; John 8:44; Acts 13:10; James 4:7; 1 Pet. 5:8), the god of this age (2 Cor. 4:4), and the ruler of the kingdom of the air (Eph. 2:2). Like other NT writers, Paul thought of him as having real existence—as a personal, malevolent being (cf. also Matt. 10:25; 12:24, 27 where he is called Beelzebub, and John 14:30, where he is called the prince of this world).
§5 Timothy’s Encouraging Report (1 Thess. 3:6–13)
The somber note on which the previous section ended now gives way to joy at the news brought to Paul at Corinth by Timothy. The Thessalonians were standing firm in the faith and still held the missionaries dear. In view of the missionaries’ intense longing for the Thessalonians (2:17), this news is like a breath of life to them—“now we really live” (vv. 6–9). On the strength of it, Paul reports, they pray night and day that they may see them again (v. 10). An actual prayer to that end follows in verses 11 to 13, with prayer also for the Thessalonians that they may grow in love and in holiness. This is “the first of the two main wish-prayers to be found in the epistle,” the second being in 5:23 (G. P Wiles, Paul’s Intercessory Prayers [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1974], p. 52; see also 2 Thess. 2:16f. and 3:16). It is called a wish-prayer because it is expressed in the optative (may it be …) rather than in the imperative mood (let it be …). The distinction between these two forms of expression is one of style only (cf. also 2 Thess. 2:16f.; 3:16).
3:6–8 / At the center of these verses stands the statement, we were encouraged (cf. 3:2). All the rest is added by way of explanation, starting with Timothy’s report. Timothy, says Paul, has just now come to us from you and has brought good news. Evidently this letter was written soon after his arrival. In the NT, euangelizō especially refers to preaching the gospel, but here it describes good news in a more general sense (cf. Luke 1:19). It touches on three things: their faith, again in the sense of their trust in God (see disc. on 3:2); their love, the outworking of that faith which had been evident in them from the outset (cf. 1:3; Gal. 5:6); and their pleasant memories of the missionaries. “Pleasant” captures well what Paul means here by agathē. It means “good,” not in the sense that the Thessalonians had a good recall of events, but that what they recalled of the past, when the missionaries were with them, was good. So much so that the longing the Thessalonians experienced for the missionaries matched the missionaries’ own intense longing to return (cf. 2:17). The verb, epipotheō, is a strong one, and the present tense of the participle (ongoing action), and the adverb, pantote, “always,” further strengthen it. The Thessalonians’ longing was no less intense than that of the missionaries.
In verse 5, the phrase dia touto, “for this reason,” points to what follows. Here, in verse 7, it looks back to what was just said. Addressing them again as brothers (see disc. on 1:4), and with their faith, love, and longing for the missionaries in mind (“for this reason” NIV therefore), Paul tells them that he and his colleagues are encouraged, adding four more points to fill out that statement. First, their encouragement came during all their own distress and persecution. The preposition epi with the dative has a range of meanings but is best understood here (with NIV) as having a temporal sense. Of the two nouns in this phrase, we have already met the second, thlipsis (see disc. on 1:6). Like thlipsis, anankē implies pressure from without, so that there is no clear distinction between the two, and together they simply underscore the point. In the earlier references, the context showed that thlipsis meant persecution, but that meaning is less certain here. Rather, it may describe the missionaries’ mental state—their anxiety for the Thessalonians as well as their anxiety for themselves and for their mission generally (cf. Acts 18:9f.; 1 Cor. 2:3). Persecution, of course, cannot be ruled out of this reference. Acts suggests that Paul did suffer persecution in Corinth (Acts 18:6, 12ff.).
Second, the encouragement, he says, was about you. The preposition is again epi with the dative, but in the sense now of “resting upon”—the Thessalonians were the basis of their encouragement (cf. 3:9). This phrase resumes the thought of verse 6. So too does the third qualification, because of your faith, which expresses more explicitly what was so encouraging about the Thessalonians. The preposition dia with the genitive strictly denotes “through.” The thought is, then, that their faith—and what Paul really means is the news of their faith—was the means through which the encouragement came to them.
The fourth qualification, comprising verse 8, builds upon that last point. It is added as an explanation and is structured as a conditional sentence. “We were encouraged,” he says, “because (hoti, NIV for) if you stand … we live.” They were, of course, “standing,” otherwise none of this would have been written, and this explains the construction of the Greek. Ean, “if,” would normally be used with the verb in the subjunctive mood, but here it occurs with the indicative. The difference is between what might be and what is the case—they were in fact standing. The verb stēkō is a late form developed from the perfect of histēmi, serving better than histēmi to express the thought of standing firm, which they did, says Paul, in the Lord (en kyriō, cf. 4:1 and see note on 1:1). There may be no difference of meaning between this phrase and the more common “in Christ” or “in Christ Jesus” (cf. 2:14), although C. F. D. Moule, The Origin of Christology (Cambridge; Cambridge University Press, 1977), pp. 58–62, does discern a tendency for the latter to be “associated with the fait accompli of God’s saving work,” and the former “with its implementation and its working out in human conduct.” If that distinction does indeed hold true, the thought expressed in the statement that the Thessalonians were standing firm in the Lord would sit well with Paul’s earlier remembrance of their work produced by faith (1:3).
On the condition that the Thessalonians were standing firm, the missionaries lived. The verb is in the present tense, we … live, and the adverb now (nyn) probably refers to the time of writing. Clearly, there was a lot at stake for Paul in Thessalonica. Part of the explanation may be that he saw the mission there as something of a test case. It was the first large city in which he had worked since he left Antioch in Syria (Acts 13:1ff.) and certainly the first large city in Grecian lands. Athens seems not to have produced many converts, and now he had come to Corinth. Would there be converts there? Could a church be established in a city like Corinth? If the Thessalonians were standing firm, the chances were that it could, and in that sense the missionaries “lived”—their ministry in Corinth was potentially viable. But this is only part of the explanation. Surely they “lived” not simply in terms of the ongoing mission, but because of the Thessalonians themselves. What happens to the Thessalonians matters intensely to Paul, and if they fall, something in him and the others would die. It is no accident that this passage leads into prayer, for the more we care for others, the more we pray.
3:9 / Paul’s immediate response to the news from Thessalonica is to ask, “How can we thank God enough?” Timothy’s report confirmed that the work had been well done, much had been achieved, and this might easily have become for Paul a source of pride. But he knew that, whatever he and his colleagues had done, it was God who had opened the hearts (see disc. on 3:2). It is to God, therefore, that thanks must be returned. The Greek reads literally, “What thanks can we pay back to God?” where the verb antapodidomi, here in the aorist infinitive (cf. 2 Thess. 1:6), has the sense, “to pay back what is due.” His thanks are peri hymōn, “in reference to you,” i.e., the Thessalonians (NIV for you) and are offered “on the basis of (epi with the dat., see disc. on 3:7) all the joy” (NIV for all the joy). But now, having introduced the theme of joy, Paul cannot let it pass without comment. This is the joy, he explains, that we have (lit. the joy that we rejoice) in the presence of our God because of you, and with this the verse returns full cycle to where it began. For it is thanks to God that they have something to rejoice in, and the phrase, “in the presence of our God,” is Paul’s recognition of that fact (cf. 2:19 and 3:13 where the same or a similar phrase has an eschatological reference). Throughout this letter, there is a consciousness of God, which in this instance leads naturally to prayer (cf. 1:3 and see on 5:18).
3:10 / Paul and the others express their joy in the context of prayer (note the present participle, we rejoice … praying) night and day (for the order of the words, see disc. on 2:9). This phrase emphasizes the centrality of prayer in their lives; hyper-ekperissou intensifies this even more. This adverb is a double compound of an already strong word, creating what Findlay described as “a triple Pauline intensive” with the sense “beyond—exceedingly—abundantly” (cf. 5:13). Pauline style typically features such compounds (cf. Rom. 5:20; 2 Cor. 7:4), but he almost certainly uses it deliberately here “to express a feeling too deep for words” (Morris). Paul poured out his heart in prayer most earnestly for the Thessalonian Christians. Of a number of verbs that he might have chosen to relay the idea, “to pray,” Paul adopts one in particular, deomai, that conveys his sense of dependence on God. What follows relates both the content and the purpose (see disc. on 2:12) of his prayer. It was twofold: First, that we may see you again—the longing for the Thessalonians already mentioned several times in this epistle (cf. 2:17f.; 3:5f.)—and second, that we may supply what is lacking in your faith. That is, Paul has a pastoral as well as a personal interest in his prayer. “Notice how Paul understands ministry as a mutual act between pastor and people. It is a giving and receiving on both sides, a ministering and a being ministered to. What comfort and joy they had given him (vv. 7, 9); what new strength he wants to give them (v. 10)” (Saunders). Nothing in the letter thus far suggests that there is any serious problem within the church. On the contrary, in the fundamentals of faith and love, the Thessalonians are a model for others (cf. 1:3, 7; 3:6). But clearly, there are some areas of the faith—in the sense of the body of Christian teaching (see disc. on 3:2)—in which they do need further instruction (katartizō means “to make complete”). The nature of these areas emerges from chapters 4 and 5. Paul must have realized that he would not be able to come to them in the short term and decided, therefore, that his written instructions must substitute for face-to-face teaching. Notice how he emphasizes the positive, giving thanks for what has been achieved before mentioning what remains to be done.
3:11 / From a rhetorical question about prayer, which in the Greek includes both verse 9 and verse 10, Paul turns to an actual prayer (cf. 5:23, where he prays again for the Thessalonians). Broadly there are two petitions: one for the missionaries, the other for the Thessalonians. Now may our God and Father himself and our Lord Jesus clear the way for us to come to you. The emphatic pronoun, “himself” (autos), which in the Greek stands at the beginning of the prayer as also in the other wish-prayers of 5:23 and 2 Thessalonians 2:16f. and 3:16, is not easy to explain. Some see it as marking a contrast with their own attempts at returning or with Satan’s hindrance of those attempts, while others regard it as simply marking a new section of the letter. In view of the similar construction elsewhere, Bruce may be right to see it as an echo of “the language of the synagogue liturgy, where the address would be in the second person; this goes back in turn to the language of the Psalter, as for example in Ps. 22:19, ‘But thou, O Lord.’ ” Particularly striking is the coupling of Jesus with the Father both in the address and in the ascription of the right to determine in what way they should go (cf. 1:1 and Ps. 32:8; 37:23; 40:2; Prov. 3:6; 4:26; 16:9). Nowhere more plainly than in these early Christian prayers do we see how high a status Jesus had in the minds of his followers as a result of their experience of him, especially of his resurrection (see disc. on 1:1). People like Paul were nurtured on the truth that there is one God (Deut. 6:4). Without ceasing to believe that truth, they now prayed to him as Father and Son. The singular verb could be taken as further evidence of Paul’s belief that Father and Son are one. However, Greek regularly requires the verb to take its number from the first or the nearest of its subjects if there is more than one. Thus the evidence is inconclusive. The fact remains, however, that Jesus is petitioned, no less than God, and indeed, as God, “to clear the way,” i.e., to remove the hindrances to their return (kateuthynō, strictly, “to make or keep straight,” also “to direct,” cf. 2 Thess. 3:5; see note on 1:1 for God as Father and Jesus as Lord, and the further disc. on 2 Thess. 2:16f. of the significance of prayer addressed to Jesus and to God).
3:12 / The second petition, for the Thessalonians, is as follows: May the Lord make your love increase and overflow. The two petitions of verses 11 and 12 are united by “but” (de), and the Greek word order in the second has “you” (the direct object of the verbs) at the beginning for emphasis. This shows that whatever God has in store for the missionaries—whether to clear the way for them or not (cf. “not what I will, but what you will,” Mark 14:36)—the Thessalonians are foremost in their mind, and this remains their prayer for them. Because Jesus is called “Lord” in verse 11, we must assume that he is the Lord of this verse (see note on 1:1). Thus the prayer is now addressed to him alone. It is for the enlargement of the Thessalonians’ love, love being the hallmark of true Christianity (pleonazō, “to abound,” or “to make to abound,” cf. 2 Thess. 1:3; perisseuō, “to abound,” “to excel,” or “to make to excel,” cf. 1 Thess. 4:1, 10, also 2 Cor. 6:11, 13). The prayer is that it might extend beyond the love that they have for each other (church members) to everyone else (those outside the church; JB, “the whole human race”; cf. 5:15 and Luke 6:32–36, Gal. 6:10, etc. for the same universality). That Paul so prays reminds us that love is a gift of God: he gives both the motive and the model in his own love for us, and he provides the means—the ability to love—by his Spirit. Since God loves everyone (John 3:16), his gift of love to us is to the same end. That end (in some measure at least) had been realized in Paul’s own and his colleagues’ lives, for he adds, just as ours i.e., our love, overflows for you. Paul not only practiced what he preached, but he practiced what he prayed!
3:13 / NIV presents this verse as a separate petition, but in fact, in the Greek it is part of the petition of verse 12, expressing what is the goal of this enlargement of their love (see disc. on 2:12); namely, that their “hearts might be established blameless in holiness” (NIV, that he may strengthen [their] hearts so that [they] will be blameless and holy). For “heart,” see disc. on 2:4. What Paul is getting at is that love (agapē) is unselfish, and its practice develops the unselfishness which is the basis of holiness. He can, therefore, speak of love as the means to that end. Hagiosynē, “holiness,” refers exclusively to God in the Greek OT (cf. Rom. 1:4 where it concerns the Spirit of God). Against this background, Paul’s use implies that the holiness of God must be the measure of whether a believer is “blameless in holiness”—“Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt. 5:48). This implication is reinforced by the addition of the words: in the presence of our God and Father (see disc. on 3:9). In Christ, believers are already holy in terms of status. God accepts them as blameless (cf. 1 Cor. 1:30). But this prayer has to do with practice. Their practice should match their status—that they might “be who they are” (see J. F. Kilner, “A Pauline Approach to Ethical Decision-Making,” Interp 43 [4, 1989] p. 373)—and that, in fact, they might be “blameless in holiness” when our Lord Jesus comes with all his holy ones (see note on 1:1 for the titles and the disc. on 2:19 for the Parousia). The Parousia is both the goal of our Christian life, for only then will God’s work of salvation be completed, and an incentive for us to work (God being our helper) towards that goal (see disc. on 4:3ff. and 2 Thess. 2:13f. for hagiasmos, the process of becoming holy). The identity of his holy ones (hoi hagioi), who accompany Jesus, is uncertain. A number of OT passages suggest angels are in view (cf. Deut. 33:2; Ps. 89:5, 7; Dan. 7:10; Zech. 14:5; cf. also Matt. 13:41; 25:31; Mark 8:38; 13:26f.; Luke 9:26; 2 Thess. 1:7; Jude 14f.; Rev. 19:14). But in the NT, “the holy ones,” does not appear to be used of angels. Rather, the term is commonly applied to believers. In 2 Thessalonians 1:10, “holy ones” (NIV “his holy people”) and “those who have believed” are synonymous. In the light of this and 4:14 (see also Rom. 8:19; 1 Cor. 6:2), we should understand Paul to be at least including believers who have died, even he is not exclusively referring to them (note that Paul speaks of all his holy ones).