The Aim of Instruction

1 Timothy 1:1-7

September 8, 2019

William G. Carter

Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the command of God our Savior and of Christ Jesus our hope, To Timothy, my loyal child in the faith: Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord. 

I urge you, as I did when I was on my way to Macedonia, to remain in Ephesus so that you may instruct certain people not to teach any different doctrine, and not to occupy themselves with myths and endless genealogies that promote speculations rather than the divine training that is known by faith. But the aim of such instruction is love that comes from a pure heart, a good conscience, and sincere faith. Some people have deviated from these and turned to meaningless talk, desiring to be teachers of the law, without understanding either what they are saying or the things about which they make assertions.

The big yellow buses are running again on my street. When I passed by the bus stop at 8:15 the other morning, there was a lot more activity than the day before. All the kids were dressed up for school. Some of them had new backpacks. Most of them were chattering and laughing, even if it means the summer is over. With a new school year beginning, there is a lot of excitement in the air.

Our kind of Presbyterians believe strongly in public education. That’s one of our trademarks. Wherever we established a church, we built a school. It is one way we invest in the public good. A good education unlocks the hidden treasures in books. It introduces the students to a larger world than they knew existed, and it provides skills so they can function and flourish in society. It teaches how a government runs – or how it is supposed to run – and it cultivates public responsibility. All of that is good. Very good.

Learning starts early. By the time you get to kindergarten, someone will show you how to tie your shoes or at least to pull the Velcro shut. You learn the letters and how to combine them, the numbers and how to count them. There are also the basic manners: how to share, the importance of blowing your nose, and the essential words of “please” and “thank you.” The lessons fill in the lapses of what you didn’t learn at home, and they teach you how to function as a fellow human being. These are good things. Very good.

So I’m thinking this week about learning, and specifically what we must learn in order to follow Jesus Christ.

Certainly there’s some overlap. It’s good to share, important to read and think, and a good practice to wipe your nose. Yet there are also some distinctions. One of my education professors taught that public education equips us to live in public. It’s all about socialization and fitting in.

By contrast, the purpose of a distinctively Christian education is not to make American citizens. It is to make people who are capable of following Jesus. It is making souls who will resemble Jesus in what they say and how they say it, who will care about the things that he cares about, and who will love the otherwise unlovable people that he loves. To follow Jesus is to live as he lived, and as he lives again today.

The life in Christ is a life free from the addictions to possessions and hatred. It is to stand with the neighbor as a fellow soul on a journey, a fellow soul who could really use a friend. To live as Jesus is to befriend rich and poor while remaining indifferent about whether they are poor or rich. To learn Jesus, so to speak, is to persist in discerning the right thing to do and to do it, even if everybody else is doing something else. It is to forgive others when if they drive nails through your wrists. It is to soak every moment in prayer.

How do we learn these things? For some people, it’s enough to just read the book, the Good Book, the Bible. That’s fine as far as it goes, but the Bible is a thick book. Many homes have Bibles that never get opened. So we need more than a Bible; we need a tribe.

The apostle Paul, old and rickety yet experienced, is writing to young buck named Timothy. He is writing as a member of the Christian tribe to one who is newer, younger, and less experienced. With the first paragraph of the letter that we heard, as well as the letter that immediately follows it, Paul passes along some embodied wisdom. It’s wisdom that he’s learned the hard way, which is the only kind of wisdom that sticks.

He knows there are plenty of other voices out there whistling in the wind, and not merely the voices of the surrounding culture. The Christian movement is new. They have had experiences of God, Jesus, and Holy Spirit, but they haven’t figured out the right words to speak of Trinity. They heard Paul declare Jesus was coming back very soon, but they are getting tired of waiting.

They are anxious to build the Jesus movement and grow the church, so anxious that they’ve dragged people into church leadership who don’t know an introit from a benediction, people who haven’t given up all their bad habits yet, people who will get upset that church attendance will goof up their weekends and holidays.

I recall the new believer in my first congregation. He was full of enthusiasm, so full that it made him a standout, and they immediately made him an elder. Imagine his dismay that year when he realized December 25 would fall on a Sunday, and the rest of the elders had no intention of cancelling worship. “But Christmas falls on a Sunday!” he protested. “We have to cancel church.”

One of the old-timers said, “Bob, Easter falls on a Sunday, too, but we never cancel for that.” This is the wisdom of the tribe.

When I heard the apostle Paul write some of these words, I tried to imagine what he was addressing. For instance, the very first full sentence of the letter after he says hello: “Timothy, I want you to stay on in Ephesus to instruct certain people not to occupy themselves with myths and endless genealogies that promote speculations rather than the divine training that is known by faith.” What was that all about?

And then Thursday’s mail brought a slick flyer from some group I’ve never heard of, purporting to explain how the end of the world is going to unfold. Oh, those people have always been around, cherry-picking Bible verses out of context, gluing together some elaborate scenario in coded language, rather than loving their enemies and working for the reconciliation of the world.

Suddenly Paul’s words came back into focus: “they occupy themselves with myths and endless genealogies that promote speculations rather than the divine training that is known by faith.” Ah yes, the wisdom of the tribe! All the so-called “hidden knowledge” and ungrounded conspiracy theories will not lead anybody to follow Jesus or to love the people that he loves. Paul calls this “meaningless talk from people who don’t know what they’re talking about.”  

So what are we talking about? We are talking about following Jesus, the real Jesus, the Jesus who forgives the ignorant people who put nails in his wrist and forgives the religious people who were egging them on. We are talking about learning how to live like the Christ who lives abundantly, always a work of three steps forward and two steps back, yet still stepping forward as we are able.

That’s why we come on Sundays. That’s why we study and rehearse and eat together on Wednesday church nights. That’s why we keep these hallways and meeting rooms hopping with activity. It’s why we go out to serve the neighborhood two weeks from today. It’s why we welcome all people to the study and service of this Presbyterian part of the greater Christian tribe.

Paul says it well: “the aim of such instruction is love.” He’s talking about the love of Christ, love that is lived out in lives like yours and mine. This is a work in progress, a lifelong pursuit. And he declares, it “comes from a pure heart, a good conscience, and sincere faith.”

These are good words to rally us as we begin the fall season at the Church on the Hill. They are excellent words on a day when we welcome two new friends to the tribe, enjoy new voices in the choir loft, and baptize one more precious child of God. It’s all about love – the love of Christ for every last one of us.

Let’s keep growing into that love with a pure heart, a good conscience, and sincere faith.

(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.