1 Timothy 1:12-17 Commentary

At first glance, 1 Timothy 1:17 may seem like a strange place to put such a stirring doxology. After all, while we profess the Spirit inspired its placement, it’s only a relative handful of verses into Paul’s letter to his “true son in the faith” (1). While there are, of course, exceptions, we generally find the apostles’ doxologies near or at the end of their letters.

But there 1 Timothy’s doxology is, virtually right up front, as big as if not bigger than life: “To the King [Basilei*] eternal [ton aionon], immortal [aphtharto], invisible [aorato], the only God, be honor [time] and glory [doxa] for ever and ever. Amen.” This offers preachers an opportunity to let the Spirit help us proclaim this Sunday’s entire Epistolary Lesson through the “lense” of doxology.

There are several ways preachers might choose to approach 1 Timothy 1:12-19. We may choose to deal with it more exegetically, moving systematically from its opening words to its doxological climax. Or preachers may sense the Spirit’s prompting to explore the doxology before “going back” to delve into what prompts it. There are good reasons for taking either approach.

No matter how preachers approach this text, however, we want to emphasize how Paul’s deep gratitude to God is rooted in God’s gracious work in his life. That grace is in part etched into this text by its allusion to Paul’s shady past. In verse 13 he admits, “I was once a blasphemer [blasphemon] and a persecutor [diokten] and a violent man [hybristen].”

Few sins more deeply offended God’s Israelite people than that of blasphemy. In fact, the religious leaders were so committed to the holiness and inviolability of God’s name that they deduced that Jesus’ claim to be God’s Son was so blasphemous that it was a capital crime.

We can imagine that Paul’s claims of Jesus’ divinity angered his own religious leaders little less than it did those who condemned Jesus. It may have even earned their quiet acquiescence in the apostle’s eventual execution by the Roman authorities who had their own issues with any rival to the emperor’s divine status.

Paul’s violence and persecution of Jesus’ followers was, what’s more, a matter of Acts 8 and 9’s public record. In Acts 8:1 we read of his approval of Stephen’s martyrdom. On top of that, Acts 9 reports that the one originally called Saul was on his way to arrange for the arrest of more of Jesus’ followers when God knocked him off his high horse and into God’s kingdom.

Preachers might reflect with our hearers on how the depth of Paul’s depravity mimics natural human sinfulness. So while this Sunday’s Epistolary Lesson may tempt preachers to cite examples of high-profile people and systems who seem particularly violent in their persecution of Jesus’ friends, it may help Jesus’ friends more to contemplate how those sins sometimes manifest themselves in Christians’ lives. It’s not hard to find examples of the sin that is blasphemy, as well as violence deep in our own hearts.

Of course, some people who make themselves God’s enemies share Paul’s ignorance of God and God’s ways. In verse 13 the apostle admits that he “acted [violently] in ignorance [agnoon] and unbelief [apistia].” In doing so he admits he, quite simply, sinned against God and God’s people because he didn’t know any better. Paul didn’t, according to The Message’s paraphrase of verse 13, “know what” he “was doing … or Who” he “was doing it against.”

Yet God did an amazing work of grace in Paul’s violent, blaspheming and persecuting life. In verse 14 he marvels at how “The grace [charis] of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly [hyperepleonasen], along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.”

This is a word not just of grace, but also of exuberant, abundant grace. In it Paul celebrates how God didn’t just let a little bit of grace trickle down onto him. God, as it were, dumped a huge “bucket full” of grace mixed with faith and love all over him. The apostle didn’t just get sprinkled by God’s grace. He got so completely soaked by it that it changed everything about him – including his name.

This Sunday’s Epistolary begins with the apostle’s expression of his profound sense of gratitude for this startling gift: “I thank [Charin] Christ Jesus our Lord,” the apostle writes in verse 12, “who has given me strength [endynamosanti], that he considered [hegesato] me trustworthy [piston], appointing [themenos] me to his service.”

For Jesus’ sake, Paul is deeply gratified that God didn’t view him through the lense of his former blasphemy, violence and persecution. God, instead, graciously viewed and treated him as one of God’s own dearly beloved people. God even trusted the apostle enough to what The Message calls “go out on a limb” to both strengthen and use him in service to God and God’s kingdom.

In verse 13 Paul even seems to make what is to us a puzzling connection between this mercy of God and the apostle’s ignorance. He writes, “I was shown mercy [eleethen] because [oti] I acted in ignorance and unbelief.” Does this at least suggest that God was gracious to Paul because he didn’t know any better than to be blasphemous and violent?

Part of our discomfort with this possibility may stem from our assumption that’s actually almost the direct opposite of it. Jesus’ friends sometimes quietly assume that God is gracious to us because we’re nicer than people who don’t follow Jesus. So perhaps preachers need to say little more about verse 13 than this: it’s all grace. We don’t fully understand God’s amazing grace. Jesus’ followers can only thank God for it and seek to serve God in ways that put that gratitude on full display.

But, of course, Paul isn’t the only undeserving recipient of God’s startling mercy. “Here is a trustworthy [Pistos] saying that deserves full acceptance [apodoches], he writes in verse 15. “Christ Jesus came into the world to save [sosai] sinners [hamartolous] – of whom I am the worst [protos].”

This is Paul’s experience of God’s mercy generalized for all who naturally rebel against God and God’s purposes but faithfully receive God’s grace. The Son of God became incarnate in order to rescue even the very “worst” of God’s dearly beloved people from eternal separation from God. We can be completely confident that’s the very purpose for which Christ Jesus came into the world God so deeply loves.

In fact, the apostle goes on to add in verse 16, Christ Jesus came to mercifully rescue a “wretch” like him “so that [alla dia] in” him, “the worst [proto] of sinners, Christ Jesus might display [endeixetai] his immense [hapasan] patience [makrothymian] as an example [hypotoposin] for those who would believe in him and receive eternal life.”

Here the apostle links God’s mercy to him not just to the depth of his depravity, but also to a source of encouragement. The Spirit uses Paul’s story to remind us that while we may be quick to lose patience with others or even ourselves, God remains startlingly patient. As a result, Jesus’ friends can remain patient with God, unbelievers and even us. As God showed in Paul’s life, as long as there is life, there can be hope. As I’ve often told people who love people who don’t yet love the Lord, rebels against God may be stubborn in their rejection of God. But we can be confident God is far more stubborn in God’s longing for them to receive God’s grace with their faith.

Is it any wonder, then, that Paul bursts out in verse 17’s doxology? “Now to the King [Basilei*] eternal [ton aionon], immortal [aphtharto], invisible [aorato], the only God, be honor [time] and glory [doxa] for ever and ever. Amen.” While Rome and its emperors thought of emperors as their saviors, the apostle professes there is only one King who rescues people from our deepest distress. While our own various “kings” and perhaps some of their subjects may assume they’re eternal and immortal, only one King is eternal. That is the “invisible … only God.”

I owe a great deal to my colleague Pastor Bethany Besteman for insights into the time (“honor”) and doxa (“glory”) that, as a result, belong to God. In an August 10, 2025 sermon in the Silver Spring Christian Reformed Church she noted that time can refer to both the worth a person ascribes to someone and the actual value of that person. So we might think of Paul as saying that God is so merciful and patient that God is deserving of our complete honor. God’s dearly beloved people long for the Holy Spirit to help us learn to offer God our everything, in no small part because God in Christ has offered us everything we need – and so very, very often, even far more.

*I have here and elsewhere added in brackets the Greek words for the English words the NIV translation uses.

Illustration

Glimpses of mercy offered by otherwise merciless people can offer us glimpses of our merciful God’s startling mercy. Michael O’Brien’s Island of the World features Josip, an 11 year-old Croat living at the end of World War 2. While visiting a neighboring village, unidentified enemies who want to kill him capture him.

However, when no one is looking, his captor murmurs and then repeats that he should run away. When the others notice Josip trying to escape, his captor shoots but deliberately misses him, then chases down and catches him. He again fires shots that the other thugs assume are at Josip but is actually into the air.

When his captor kneels beside Josip, he covers his mouth and whispers, “Be silent. You are dead. Lie here and do not move until we are gone.” When the men leave and Josip returns to his village, he discovers someone, perhaps even the one who showed him mercy, has slaughtered his parents and all his fellow villagers. Yet while that part of Josip dies, he rises to a life of meaning and service in post-war Yugoslavia.