Wednesday, June 19, 2013

“... Holding faith and a good conscience”

Fighting the Good Fight: 1 Timothy 1:19-20


... holding faith and a good conscience. By rejecting this, some have made shipwreck of their faith, among whom are Hymenaeus and Alexander, whom I have handed over to Satan that they may learn not to blaspheme.

The two parts of “waging the good warfare” (or “fighting the good fight”), the Apostle tells us, are holding fast to faith (living trust in our loving, good God) and to a robust conscience (a clear awareness of right and wrong and a humble but committed determination to stay on the correct side of that divide). Note that the word “good” in “good warfare” is kalos, which is the general word for good, but also carries the sense of what is right and fitting. The word “good” in “good conscience” is agathos, which means “worthy”, “upright”, “fertile” – we might say a “clear” conscience, but that really doesn’t catch the full sense. It’s not about a blank rap sheet, so much as a strong and accurate moral compass which (carrying forward the sense of nobility and fertility in the word) has positive effects in the world around us.

What follows is one of those passages which, although nearly a “throwaway” in Paul’s prose, is one of those sit-up-and-take-notice points.

“By rejecting this”. What is the “this”? Some translations actually supply “conscience”; while not wrong, I don’t think that’s sufficient. The “this” is singular, but I take it to refer back to the “holding”. It’s not at all clear what the two persons named, viz., Hymenaeus and Alexander, have done (or failed to do), but the abandonment of conscience and a failure in trust in God go together. Vigorous faith is the foundation of Christian conscience, which is in turn the expression of active trust in the Father.

Now Paul uses an image that should “clear our sinuses”, as a friend of mine likes to say. He refers to the “shipwreck” of faith. Today, we’d be more apt to use an image from aviation or NASCAR like “crash and burn”; but a real shipwreck was just as dramatic, destructive, deadly. A ship hitting shoals in a gale would begin to break up on the rocks, splintering and taking on water. Men would be hurled into the waves, against the rocks, or into the depths of the ship. Rigging and sails, what had been the means of propulsion and movement about the ship, would become webs and cocoons of death. Prisoners and those weighed down by shackles, tackle, or equipment would be lost. Those who did survive faced exposure, hunger, loss of livelihood, financial ruin. The reputation of the captain and owner might also be seriously damaged.

The image is clear: turning away from trust in God and from a strong conscience on the stormy seas of life is inviting disaster. These two have suffered disaster in their discipleship, as a result of their own decisions.

Then more sobering words – shocking, even, from the Apostle: whom I have handed over to Satan that they may learn not to blaspheme.

What do we learn from this?

To blaspheme is to slander God: through abuse of the Name, through slandering or insulting God, by presumptuously arrogating to oneself privileges or titles not given by God, by claiming to have a word of knowledge or prophecy which is one’s own invention and not from God. The ultimate blasphemy is to turn away from grace, and it is for this reason that despair, though pitiable, is also such a serious sin. Again, we don’t know exactly what these two were involved in to trigger this reaction from Paul, but it must have come across as a serious challenge to the glorification of God and the trust of the church.

Second, we see that the consequences are serious, even devastating. “There is no free lunch” is an expression we hear in the business and commercial world; it is also true in the moral universe.

Third, we see the authority of the Church. Paul is able to act through prayer and counsel in a way which exposes Hymenaeus and Alexander to further trial and danger. Most of us in the modern Church are profoundly uncomfortable with such ideas. Yet just as a parent must sometimes punish a child or allow them to suffer the consequences of their actions to help them to learn and grow (painful as it is for the parent!), and just as a counselor or psychologist must allow a client to “hit bottom” and become sufficiently miserable as to motivate positive change, so also in the spiritual realm pain is sometimes the best, even the only, motivator for repentance. Our tendency to jump to shielding persons from the work of God in this way (to use Oswald Chambers’ term, to play at being an “amateur providence”) inhibits, and does not do, the work of God. (Caution: the alternate error, becoming a judgmental, pharisaic person, is just as deadly and just as common.) Paul uses the authority given him, no doubt in prayer, and no doubt with tears, to remove the hedge of protection in the lives of these two persons. I wonder: has the Church abandoned this sense of responsibility for the flock? Is this because of our own compromised bad consciences? Has this worked immeasurable harm to the cause of Christ and the work of building people up in the faith?

Fourth, we see the ultimate redemptive purpose of discipline in the Body. Paul doesn’t say, “They’re going to hell” – though, presumably, that could be the ultimate outcome. Rather, he focuses on their “learning”, on their present predicament being a means of growth and, ultimately, recovery. In this, Paul reflects the Gospel message that God’s intention toward us, though we deserve judgment and punishment, is grace.


Lord, it is a sobering thing to fall under discipline. More sobering, though, would be not to do so, not to feel Your guiding, restraining, correcting hand in our lives. Teach us both responsiveness to you, and the true yearning over the lives and souls of others, that we may not be inert but rather robust in our care of the flock of God, whether as members of that flock or as undershepherds of Yours. For the love, cause, and in the Spirit of Christ, amen.



(Lusby, Maryland)