1 Tm 1:1-11
12 September 2010
“Wilderness of Words”
I like
words. I do; I love words. I’m fascinated by the whole concept of
language. When I was young, I seriously
thought about a career in science. I
was, and still am, fascinated by mathematics—which is its own kind of language. Still,
as I got older, I discovered a love of the humanities, the liberal arts. Language is central to the liberal arts, be
it history, literature, philosophy, or a number of other fields, including my
college major, political science. (That
term “political science” is strange to me.
I’ve tended to think of it as more an art than a science!)
Unfortunately,
no matter how much one may like
words, they can prove to be slippery little devils. Words aren’t always the best way to
communicate. That’s true, even when
we’re careful with
the words we use.
In a meditation on “choosing words wisely,” Henri
Nouwen underlines the necessity of thinking before we speak. “When we are boiling with
anger and eager to throw bitter words at our opponents,” he says, “it is better
to remain silent. Words spoken in rage
will make reconciliation very hard. Choosing life and not death, blessings and not
curses, often starts by choosing to remain silent or choosing carefully the
words that open the way to healing.”[1]
But
even when we choose our words carefully, there’s no guarantee that the
recipient of those words will understand or receive them in the way we
intend. There’s plenty of puzzling over
what is, in fact, being communicated.
(And if you want to see that in action, join us for one of the Bible
studies on Revelation. There’s more than
a bit of puzzling over what John’s talking about!)
Maybe we should ask about our scripture text, “What is the
apostle Paul talking about?”
The
First Letter of Paul to Timothy is one of the three so-called Pastoral
Epistles. The other two are 2 Timothy
and Titus. They’re called “Pastoral”
Epistles, not because they portray serene, tranquil landscapes, but because
they are addressed to those who are in the position of shepherding others. That isn’t the only thing that the letters deal with, but it is a key consideration.
So,
what advice does the apostle Paul give to his protégé, Timothy? We’ll just look at the first eleven verses of
the letter. The lectionary reading is
actually verses 12 to 17, but if we look at what comes before that, especially
in the Revised English Bible, we see some fascinating phrases. Paul is guiding “his true-born son in the
faith” on the pros and cons of using words.
He
warns him of “certain people” who are “teaching erroneous doctrines and
devoting themselves to interminable myths and genealogies, which give rise to
mere speculation, and do not further God’s plan for us, which works through
faith” (vv. 3-4). You may find this
impossible to believe, but there really are people who enjoy using words, not
for the sake of clarity, but to indulge in conjecture and supposition that
doesn’t benefit anyone!
There are people whose
motivation isn’t faith (which St. Paul advocates), but rather, they’re
motivated by listening to the sound of their own voices—or seeing their own
words in print or on the internet. The
instruction of the apostle to his younger colleague—which includes correcting
those who are disrupting the well-being of the community—“has love as its goal,
the love which springs from a pure heart, a good conscience, and a genuine
faith” (v. 5).
If this is absent,
everything else is useless. Actually,
it’s worse than useless; it’s positively harmful. If this love, as the Good News Bible puts it,
“that comes from a pure heart, a clear conscience, and a genuine faith”
is missing, there’s no telling what
kind of damage can result. We can have
true words, but without that love, they become false.
I don’t suppose any of you saw the movie Saved!?
It came out in 2004; it stars Mandy Moore and Jena Malone. The setting is a Christian high school. Mandy Moore plays a character named Hilary
Faye, and Jena Malone’s character is Mary.
Hilary Faye is the perfect Christian student: she’s the star pupil at school, and she leads
the prayer meetings. Mary, on the other
hand, means well, but she finds herself pregnant.
In one scene, in a rather dismissive way, Hilary
Faye tells Mary that Jesus loves her. Mary
replies by saying, “You don’t know the first thing
about love.” Hilary Faye responds by
chucking a Bible at her head and shouting, “I am filled with Christ’s love! You
are just jealous of my success in the Lord.”
Mary turns, and while holding up the Bible, she says, “This is not a
weapon!”
Of
course, what does that foolish girl know?
The Bible makes a very good weapon!
It’s been used that way for centuries.
Paul alerts Timothy to those
who go off course. It’s easier to notice
when someone is spouting complete nonsense.
What’s more difficult is when the teaching—or ordinary conversation—is
apparently in line with the truth. A
moment ago, I mentioned what needs to be present: love which springs from a pure heart, a good
conscience, and a genuine faith.
In verse 6, Timothy gets
this caution from his teacher: “Through
lack of these some people have gone astray into a wilderness of words.” That’s how it reads in the Revised English
Bible. The Good News Bible says “foolish discussions.” But I like that: “a wilderness of words.” I must confess; I believe I have spent some
time in that wilderness. There have been
times when I was talking about stuff I really didn’t understand.
The
Greek word (mataiologia, mataiologia)
literally means “vain” or “empty talk.”
The neglect of love leads to empty talk.
When we’re more concerned with winning a debate than seeking the truth,
we wind up in that wilderness. Paul
warns against those who “do not understand either the words they
use or the subjects about which they are so dogmatic” (v. 7). Again, the Good News Bible: those who “do
not understand their own words or the matters about which they speak with so
much confidence.” Unfortunately, we have
no shortage of that.
Yesterday was the ninth anniversary of the 9-11
terrorist attacks. There are those who
seem determined to keep us in a wilderness of words. There are those who speak the truth—at least,
the way they see it—but with no love
whatsoever. I could cite plenty of
examples, but I’m especially thinking of the pastor in Florida with his desire
to burn the Qur’an.
Last Wednesday, one of my Facebook friends made the comment that “
Among holy books, the Qur’an
has a special place. In mainstream
Islam, it is literally considered to be the word of God. (The Arabic text, that is. [Translations in other languages are thought
of as having the “meaning” of the Qur’an.]) A rough analogy to Christianity would be the
place of Jesus Christ himself. That
really isn’t true of the Bible, the Torah, and certainly not with works like
the Buddhist sutras or the Tao Te Ching.”
I added, “The vast majority of Christians differentiate between the
written word and the living Word.”
I
finished with a comment that might have you saying, “Well, why don’t you tell
us how you really feel?” Here was the end of my reply: “If you want to be an especially offensive (expletive deleted) to Muslims, burn a
Qur’an. For that matter, if you want to
be an especially offensive (expletive
deleted) to anyone of good will,
burn a Qur’an.”
A few
moments ago, while discussing verse 5, I mentioned the love that needs to be
present. When it’s absent, our actions
are worse than useless; they’re
positively harmful. Jesus is not served
through hateful words and deeds. He
weeps when we indulge in that spiteful foolishness. And it’s especially bad when we do that stuff
in his name—when we claim that our
Christian faith leads us to do horrible things.
That includes waging war in the name of the Prince of Peace.
A major
part of the remedy for such stuff comes from looking within. Here’s Richard Rohr’s take on it.[2] “It takes so much energy and effort to
suppress what we find unacceptable in ourselves that we can have very little
energy left for anything else. This is why some people exist in a stew of
aimless anxiety, nameless dread, free-floating fear, generalized anger, and
irritated exhaustion. These are all indications that we’ve placed a great
portion of our unacceptable self in exile. We have no patience, no
forgiveness, no mercy, but only harsh judgments. No gospel.”
When we
yield to the powers of death and hate within us, we have no gospel. We have no good news, for ourselves or for
others. We only have bad news. We demonstrate how poorly we know and love
Jesus.
Rohr continues, “We then
project our own sick symptoms onto the screen of our outer world and call it
reality. We don’t see the world as it is; we see the world through the
prism of our anxiety, fear, and other rejected emotions. This is what
creates the worlds of conspiracy theories, militia movements, and the hateful
rantings of radio and TV personalities.”
Fortunately for us, Jesus
knows all about wilderness—even a wilderness of words. In the wilderness, he is tempted by the
devil. And in what form do these
temptations come? Don’t they come in the
form of words that sound true? One of
the temptations is even backed up with scripture.
Jesus shows us a world without
fear, anxiety, or rejected emotions. He shows
us a world where his words bring about the reality of his truth as the living Word.
Jesus speaks into the wilderness without
his words being a weapon manipulating the reality of love. When we sense that we’re lost in the
wilderness—even a wilderness of our own choice—we do indeed spend our energy on controlling, oppressing,
hurting…without patience, forgiveness, mercy, but only passing judgment.
As I just
noted, yielding to the powers of death and hate within leave us with no gospel:
no good news, for ourselves or others. We only have bad news. We keep Jesus at arm’s length.
But
Jesus is the one who leads us to safety. Our job is to fight the appalling appeal of hardening
our hearts. Remember that our words alone
do not convey truth. For that, we must submit
to the living Word who is Jesus the Christ. May he shine in and through our words.