1 Timothy 1:12-17
Luke 15:1-10
All we can say about God is metaphorical. It is always, “God is a bit like this . . .” There can be no literal language for anything that can be said about God is always other. Language is our way of trying to make sense of the inexpressible, the ineffable. In 1 Timothy and Luke, there are three metaphors: two obvious and one not so. In the gospel the metaphors are in stories Jesus told, a shepherd who loses sheep and a woman who loses some coins. In Timothy, the writer speaks of Christ as making a judgment; that is as a judge. It is not that God is a judge, —though it speaks of Christ, Christ now, in resurrection is God for us—but that what can be ascribed to the way we perceive God is like a judge. It is as clearly a metaphor as the shepherd and the woman.
The writer of the letter to Timothy is very grateful. Most scholars think that it is not Paul (as in the heading of the letter) but someone from the Pauline community writing in Paul’s name, probably sometime after his death. Nonetheless, it matters little who the author was (unless your PhD defense depends on a good argument!) The fact is, the writer is expressing thankfulness. He is thankful for the mercy of God shown to him as a sinner who acted in ignorance. His blasphemy, persecution of others and violence were all carried out in ignorance and the judge, because of the ignorance, was merciful.
Now that is interesting as a moral argument. Picture the judge sitting in her robes, raised above the courtroom on a dais listening to the defendant. “Your Honor, I admit to persecuting people, I admit to blaspheming the name of Christ, I admit to violent acts, even to the point of killing people. But, I acted in ignorance. I did not really know. I did not understand. I am truly sorry.”
How would the judge make her determination? She would probably take into account his true contrition. She would take into account his ignorance. Yet, in capital offenses, ignorance is finally no excuse. The defendant in this case has committed murder. If the defendant had filled in his tax forms and made a huge mistake in his own favor, not truly knowing the rules (that is, in ignorance) the tax authorities may be lenient with a fine. But I suspect not in the case of murder. The sentence may be commuted to manslaughter. Yet, a judgment will be made against the defendant.
In Timothy, the judgment is made in the defendant’s favor. Why? Because the judge is a merciful judge and overlooks ignorance.
That is the picture of God given to us. That is why the writer is grateful. God is like the kind of judge who takes ignorance into account. If you were ignorant when a sinner, then God will have mercy on you. Good news? Partially!
As I pondered this, I became unsettled. I am unsettled because I know myself. I sometimes do things in the full knowledge of what I am doing. I cannot plead ignorance. I willfully do things in my own interest and against the interests of others that I know to be wrong. Will the judge be merciful? It is the inner struggle that has been noticed throughout all the centuries of philosophy and theology: the “want to” and the “ought to.” What we want to do and what we ought to do are many times in conflict. It is the existential moral dilemma. Progress in character means that the want to and the ought to become much closer together. In the saint, the want to and the ought to are identical. The saint wants to do what she ought to do. I know myself to be some way away from sainthood!
So, given my reality, on the basis of 1 Timothy, will the judge be merciful? I see no hope of that there for I cannot please ignorance. I know what is right. I just do not always want to do it.
The question is, is God like that judge?
The stories of Jesus are ultimately more hopeful. The shepherd looks for the lost sheep, the woman looks for the lost coin without consideration of the motives of the errant sheep or the missing coins. There is no thought of whether the sheep or the coins deserve to be found. In Timothy, there is at least a hint of desert. The defendant relies on the mercy of the judge, yet his ignorance at least deserves some attention. It is a mitigating factor. As I cannot please ignorance, I would much rather be that lost sheep or lost coin! In those stories the emphasis is solely on the good nature of the shepherd and the woman. There is no consideration of whose fault it is that the sheep and coin are lost. Our attention is directed to God who is like a kind shepherd who goes out of his way to find the lost one. God is like a woman who turns the house upside down to find the one lost coin.
Today then, I find comfort in the stories of Jesus. My hope is that God will find me despite myself. Jesus tells me that he would leave 99 just to look for me. Jesus tells me that she would turn the house upside down just to find me. I do not plead ignorance for I know that I am lost because of my own foolishness and weakness of will.
What a merciful God Jesus shows us!
+Ab. Andy
Luke 15:1-10
All we can say about God is metaphorical. It is always, “God is a bit like this . . .” There can be no literal language for anything that can be said about God is always other. Language is our way of trying to make sense of the inexpressible, the ineffable. In 1 Timothy and Luke, there are three metaphors: two obvious and one not so. In the gospel the metaphors are in stories Jesus told, a shepherd who loses sheep and a woman who loses some coins. In Timothy, the writer speaks of Christ as making a judgment; that is as a judge. It is not that God is a judge, —though it speaks of Christ, Christ now, in resurrection is God for us—but that what can be ascribed to the way we perceive God is like a judge. It is as clearly a metaphor as the shepherd and the woman.
The writer of the letter to Timothy is very grateful. Most scholars think that it is not Paul (as in the heading of the letter) but someone from the Pauline community writing in Paul’s name, probably sometime after his death. Nonetheless, it matters little who the author was (unless your PhD defense depends on a good argument!) The fact is, the writer is expressing thankfulness. He is thankful for the mercy of God shown to him as a sinner who acted in ignorance. His blasphemy, persecution of others and violence were all carried out in ignorance and the judge, because of the ignorance, was merciful.
Now that is interesting as a moral argument. Picture the judge sitting in her robes, raised above the courtroom on a dais listening to the defendant. “Your Honor, I admit to persecuting people, I admit to blaspheming the name of Christ, I admit to violent acts, even to the point of killing people. But, I acted in ignorance. I did not really know. I did not understand. I am truly sorry.”
How would the judge make her determination? She would probably take into account his true contrition. She would take into account his ignorance. Yet, in capital offenses, ignorance is finally no excuse. The defendant in this case has committed murder. If the defendant had filled in his tax forms and made a huge mistake in his own favor, not truly knowing the rules (that is, in ignorance) the tax authorities may be lenient with a fine. But I suspect not in the case of murder. The sentence may be commuted to manslaughter. Yet, a judgment will be made against the defendant.
In Timothy, the judgment is made in the defendant’s favor. Why? Because the judge is a merciful judge and overlooks ignorance.
That is the picture of God given to us. That is why the writer is grateful. God is like the kind of judge who takes ignorance into account. If you were ignorant when a sinner, then God will have mercy on you. Good news? Partially!
As I pondered this, I became unsettled. I am unsettled because I know myself. I sometimes do things in the full knowledge of what I am doing. I cannot plead ignorance. I willfully do things in my own interest and against the interests of others that I know to be wrong. Will the judge be merciful? It is the inner struggle that has been noticed throughout all the centuries of philosophy and theology: the “want to” and the “ought to.” What we want to do and what we ought to do are many times in conflict. It is the existential moral dilemma. Progress in character means that the want to and the ought to become much closer together. In the saint, the want to and the ought to are identical. The saint wants to do what she ought to do. I know myself to be some way away from sainthood!
So, given my reality, on the basis of 1 Timothy, will the judge be merciful? I see no hope of that there for I cannot please ignorance. I know what is right. I just do not always want to do it.
The question is, is God like that judge?
The stories of Jesus are ultimately more hopeful. The shepherd looks for the lost sheep, the woman looks for the lost coin without consideration of the motives of the errant sheep or the missing coins. There is no thought of whether the sheep or the coins deserve to be found. In Timothy, there is at least a hint of desert. The defendant relies on the mercy of the judge, yet his ignorance at least deserves some attention. It is a mitigating factor. As I cannot please ignorance, I would much rather be that lost sheep or lost coin! In those stories the emphasis is solely on the good nature of the shepherd and the woman. There is no consideration of whose fault it is that the sheep and coin are lost. Our attention is directed to God who is like a kind shepherd who goes out of his way to find the lost one. God is like a woman who turns the house upside down to find the one lost coin.
Today then, I find comfort in the stories of Jesus. My hope is that God will find me despite myself. Jesus tells me that he would leave 99 just to look for me. Jesus tells me that she would turn the house upside down just to find me. I do not plead ignorance for I know that I am lost because of my own foolishness and weakness of will.
What a merciful God Jesus shows us!
+Ab. Andy