1 Timothy 1:12-17
“This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.”
All of us sometimes speak in superlative terms. This means that we sometimes describe something or someone as the very best of all, or as the very worst of all.
Politicians and patriots often say that America is the best country in the world. I can tell you what was the best day of my life, and what was the worst day of my life. Others will tell you about the best book they have ever read, or about the worst movie they have ever seen.
In today’s lesson from his First Epistle to Timothy, the apostle Paul speaks in a superlative way in describing himself as the chief of sinners. Other translations render this sentiment, from the original Greek, as his being the “foremost” of sinners, or as being the “worst” of sinners.
He doesn’t just say that he is among the worst, or that he is really bad, but he says that he is the very worst. That’s remarkable. He summarizes his sins in this way: “I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and an insolent man.”
Those are certainly not good things. But if we were to compare Saul of Tarsus – later known as Paul the apostle – to other notorious sinners mentioned in the Bible, we would probably not think of him as the very worst of all.
Wasn’t Herod the Great a more brutal sinner than Saul? Wasn’t the high priest Caiaphas a more hypocritical and corrupt sinner than Saul? Wasn’t Judas Iscariot a more treacherous sinner than Saul?
Well, in that deeply introspective moment, Paul didn’t think so. And Paul wasn’t even thinking in those categories.
In that moment, he was not comparing himself to other people. In that moment, he was comparing himself to God’s holiness, which he had not taken seriously. And he was comparing himself to what God had taught him – or had tried to teach him – which he had ignored and failed to learn.
In his conscience, as he stood before the tribunal of God’s law and its just judgments, this was a very lonely moment for Paul: as he took account of himself and assessed himself. He was not looking around at others, to try to mute or minimize what his conscience was telling him about himself.
“This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.”
As he stands before God, Paul says this for himself and about himself. But Paul also expresses himself here in a way that shows that he would expect others also to be willing to say this and to mean it.
Our translation has Paul say: “This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptance.” But the full impact and implication of what he says is probably best captured by a translation that puts it in this way: “This is a trustworthy saying, and everyone should accept it.”
Paul is not merely saying that I should concur that he – Paul – is the worst of sinners, and therefore that I may conclude that I am not so bad. Rather, he is saying that each of us, as we also stand before God’s judgment, should feel the same way about ourselves as he felt about himself.
As you confess your sins, you are not to be comparing yourself to other people, and measuring yourself against the relative goodness or evil that you can see in the lives of other people. In a true and genuine repentance, you are to be comparing your words and actions to God’s Word, and to what you knew was right even when you did what was wrong.
And this is to be without qualifications, without excuses, without self-justifications, and without the casting of blame onto others. You are the chief of sinners.
And I am the chief of sinners. Each of us, according to the accusing testimony of the conscience that resides in each of us, is the chief of sinners.
In that lonely moment when we in a solitary way stand before God, fully exposed to his probing and penetrating judgment in every aspect of our lives, that’s all we can think or say. And that’s what we need to think and say.
Whenever we join in the version of the confession of sins that was used at the beginning of today’s service, we should take note of the fact that even though we are saying the prayer at the same time and in the same place, we are not actually saying it together, as a “we” prayer. Each of us is saying it for himself, or for herself, in the singular voice, as an “I” prayer.
And therefore it might be helpful for you sometimes to close your eyes, and not to look at anyone else or even to be aware of anyone else, as you in that prayer acknowledge that you individually are indeed the chief of sinners, and the very worst of sinners.
“O almighty God, merciful Father, I, a poor, miserable sinner, confess to You all my sins and iniquities with which I have ever offended You and justly deserved Your temporal and eternal punishment. But I am heartily sorry for them, and sincerely repent of them, and I pray You of Your boundless mercy, and for the sake of the holy, innocent, bitter sufferings and death of Your beloved Son, Jesus Christ, to be gracious and merciful to me, a poor, sinful being.”
This deep and honest confession of your sins, without comparisons or qualifications, does not lead to the despair and hopelessness that would indeed come from such a confession, all by itself. We are not afraid to empty ourselves of all pride and pretense before God, because we know that God will forgive us for the sake of his Son Jesus Christ, and will not cast us away from his presence.
That confidence in God’s mercy toward us – which he has demonstrated to be a reality over and over again – takes away our fear of being totally vulnerable before him, and open to him.
And that is because Jesus is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. That means that he takes away my sin, and will not allow my sin to remain stuck to me, to weigh me down, and to pull me into hell. He will lift that sin off of me, and wash away its stain, in his gracious absolution.
This is also why St. Paul, in the statement on which we have been focusing, does not merely admit that he is the chief of sinners, but also celebrates the wondrous truth that “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.”
There are many superlative things that can be said about Jesus the Savior of sinners, and that God invites us to believe about Jesus in his gospel. He is the best and most righteous man who ever lived.
And this is because – as St. Paul explains it to the Colossians – all the fullness of the Godhead dwells bodily in him. Jesus – in, with, and under his true humanity – was and is the eternal Godhead, come to earth as a man.
The death of Jesus was, from one perspective, the most unjust death in human history, since he personally was without any sin. Yet the death of Jesus was, from another perspective, also the most loving and gracious death in human history: since he had willingly taken all human sin upon himself, and on the cross willingly atoned for that sin.
And Jesus was raised from the grave for our justification, winning the greatest victory ever in his victory over death: so that now he can and will justify me personally, and cover me personally with his righteousness, as I trust in his words of pardon and peace.
Jesus’ gospel of forgiveness, life, and salvation truly is the very best message that anyone can possibly hear. When we believe this message, it restores our fellowship with God; it unites us to Christ in a most blessèd mystical union; and it brings to us the indwelling of God’s Spirit.
By God’s grace, the gift of eternal life is accordingly ours already in this world, as we live in him and for him. And by God’s grace, the gift of eternal life will be ours without end in the world to come.
I may be the chief of sinners. Indeed, that is exactly what I am. But Jesus came into the world to save the chief of sinners. He came into the world to save all of the chiefs of sinners.
And every time I hear his absolution, spoken by the lips of his called servant, he saves me from my sins once again. He restores and renews me in my fellowship with God once again. He lifts me up to the heights of heavenly peace and holy joy once again, when he says: “I forgive you all your sins.”
Chief of sinners though I be, Jesus shed his blood for me,
died that I might live on high, lives that I might never die.
As the branch is to the vine, I am his and he is mine!
Chief of sinners though I be, Christ is all in all to me;
all my wants to him are known, all my sorrows are his own.
Safe with him in earthly strife, I await the heav’nly life. Amen.