Feb 21 2019 1 Timothy 1:4-16

Now the Spirit expressly says that in later times some will renounce the faith by paying attention to deceitful spirits and teachings of demons, through the hypocrisy of liars whose consciences are seared with a hot iron.

In Morning Prayer readings, we’re working our way through Paul’s first letter to Timothy. I’ve mostly not reflected on them, as they’re pretty contextual about who he’s talking to and what they needed to hear. He opens with something about the law is not written for the innocent, but for murderers, fornicators and other lawless. He continues that he – Paul – used to be the worst. But God had grace and mercy, and now he’s a devoted apostle.

But then there are bits that I struggle over. Two days ago, “let a woman learn in silence with full submission. I permit no woman to teach of have authority over man’. And yesterday, “a deacon must be serious, not double-tongued, not indulging in much wine, not greedy for money; they must hold fast to the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience.”. But wait, he’s not talking about me, because I’m supposed to be in full submission.

I’m not going to get all hung up on this. I don’t believe it’s a biblical edict that women can’t teach or be in positions of authority. I think it’s more about the time and place this was written. I’m not trying to be dismissive, or selective in my adherence to the Bible, but there’s enough of Scripture I can work on and chew on. There’s enough that’s about love, that I’ll focus on those and yes, would argue about. But not Paul’s views of women.

Today, Paul continues by providing the example of those who renounce their faith as people who demand abstinence from certain food, since God created all food and it is good. As a person who occasionally fasts for religious reasons, here’s my take on this.

A lot of the food and purity rules of ancient Israel had to do with safety. Pork, for example, was not safe to eat. The faithful stopped eating pork, and because God was in their world and lives all the time, it became a religious rule. We won’t eat pork for God. Maybe that sounds silly, but don’t we all do things or don’t do things for God?

My tradition invites me to fast every Friday, and especially in the season of Lent, before Easter. Fasting isn’t defined specifically, but it’s intended to be an intentional choice about less. Fridays, the day we commemorate Christ’s death, I am invited to fast. It’s not that the food isn’t God-given bounty. I’m not seared by the devil for abstaining. When I fast, I am making a choice for a day or a season that reminds me throughout the day or the season why. Hunger pangs come. And ice cream or beer beckons. And so fasting and cravings are like a little internal call to prayer, that comes whenever hunger pangs come. And in that moment, I think about why I’m fasting.

Similarly, I have a rabbi friend who’s husband is orthodox. She keeps a precise kosher kitchen. Two sets of pots, no milk and meat. Rules I don’t remember. Do I think God will strike her or her family if they use the wrong pot? I don’t think so. But I admire how she brings adherence to her understanding of what God wants her to do into her daily chores, and feeding her family. It’s a beautiful rich part of her faith.

I understand that in Paul’s time, there were those who deemed some people true believers or not, based on whether they ate pork or whatever. Yes, I’m not sure food choice or a kosher kitchen choice is what makes God happy or not. But I do think that food choices can make us think more about God, can infuse God in our daily life. So, despite what Paul tells Timothy, sometimes I abstain from certain foods, and don’t think I’m following the hypocrisy of liars.