For ye know yourselves, brethren, our entering in which [we had] to you, that it has not been in vain;
Paul points the Thessalonians back to the day he first walked into their city. He asks them to be the judges of what happened. His claim is modest: his coming was "not in vain." Two questions sit behind it. What made that visit anything but empty, and why did Paul need to say it at all?
Paul offers no statistics. He calls on the people themselves as his witnesses.
The apostle calls on the saints to witness to the character of his service among them. He could not have called a better witness. He says you "know … that it was not in vain." That went without saying. They themselves were the fruit of his labours — the standing proof of the God-given ministry they had received through him.
The same writer sees a mark of character in how little Paul claims:
Yet he only says that his entrance among them was "not in vain." He blows no trumpet, and he lists no splendid results. He might have done so. Instead he simply says that it was "not in vain." In such an expression we have the first sign of a true servant of Christ. We notice his deep and genuine spirit of humility.
Paul is saying his visit was not empty. One writer names what filled it.
The apostle could confidently appeal to what the believers knew inwardly. The entering in of Paul and Silas among the Thessalonian saints had not been empty. Three things had marked their service: a divine purpose of grace, reality in pressing the truth on consciences, and energy of the Holy Spirit. These produced matching results. And no wonder. The love of Christ urged them to love perishing souls. Those souls did not know God, nor the power of the resurrection of the One who had tasted death even for them.
The same writer adds what the visit was not. It was "neither a showy display nor a holiday visit." It was "an errand so serious" to these visitors that nothing on the road or in the city held them back.
Another writer looks at what opened that visit, and at what Paul had just come from — beating and prison in the city of Philippi.
God had opened a door in Thessalonica, and the entering in of His servants was not in vain. They had suffered before at Philippi. They were beaten and imprisoned, and later asked to leave the city. But this did not discourage them. It did not lessen their boldness in speaking the gospel of God, though in much conflict… Their own comfort or safety was nothing compared to the precious gospel of the grace of God. How weak we are today compared with these men! They served God with calm, purposeful devotion. To them Christ was supreme.
Chapter 2 turns very personal. One writer explains why.
But what about chapter 2? The apostle speaks at great length about himself, his motivations and his intentions. Why? Clearly there was a great danger here. The circumstances facing the Thessalonians could create false impressions about Paul and his work, possibly through the arguments of some opponents: this man came here, caused a great stir and then disappeared, leaving you behind in all this trouble — all he wants is followers he can make money from.
Paul answers the suspicion by pointing to how he lived while he was among them.
Having established these great principles, the apostle appeals to his whole walk among them with an open and overflowing heart. That walk was proof that he had walked in the same spirit he was rejoicing over in them. It was not that he urged others on while using their affection for his own advantage. It was not that he encouraged them to endure hardship without having the courage to undergo it himself.
Another writer traces this back to the message itself, which leaves a preacher no room for manipulation. Paul and his companions "addressed themselves to neither the mind nor the flesh of the natural man. Had they done that, much of the opposition they met would have been avoided" — and being "entrusted with God's truth, they could not be anything but truthful."
- Proof. Paul names no results and quotes no numbers. The converts in front of him are the evidence that his coming was not empty.
- Filled. "Not in vain" means not hollow. God's purpose, truth pressed on consciences, and the Spirit's energy gave the visit its content.
- Costly. He arrived straight from beating and prison at Philippi. The door God opened mattered more to him than his own safety.
- Suspected. Opponents could paint him as a man who stirred up trouble, vanished, and made money from followers. So he writes about himself.
- Answered. His reply is his life. He never urged on others what he would not endure himself. A man entrusted with God's message cannot be anything but truthful.
but, having suffered before and been insulted, even as ye know, in Philippi, we were bold in our God to speak unto you the glad tidings of God with much earnest striving.
Paul's first stop in Europe ended with a public flogging and a night in prison. His next stop was Thessalonica, where he spoke out again. Verse 2 tells the young church why that mattered. The man who warned them about affliction had walked into their city straight out of it.
The shameful treatment Paul refers to was real and recent. Philippi was the first European city he visited. His preaching there ended in violence.
He drove a fortune-telling spirit out of the young woman who followed him, and a riot broke out. Paul and Silas were flogged and thrown into prison. But this happily led to the conversion of the jailer and his household.
Yet the pain never cooled the love that drove them on, or shut their mouths.
At Philippi he and Silas were put in prison, their feet locked fast in the stocks. Before that, the city officials had ordered them beaten with many lashes. Yet this did not cool their eagerness. True love for souls still burned in them. … They carried a message of great weight — the gospel of God. Could they keep silent, whatever it might cost? Impossible.
Paul does not simply say he was bold. He says he was bold in our God, and that difference matters.
This was not natural boldness, which often sinks into the aggressiveness of the flesh. It was boldness in our God. So the servant followed in the steps of his Master. When His enemies picked up stones to throw at Him, He quietly moved on, still giving out grace. No violence from men could stir resentment in Him or dry up His grace.
Put plainly, the courage did not come from Paul himself:
Paul gloried in what he had gone through. He needed power to go through all these things. He did not go in his own strength, and the way God held him up is wonderful. Imagine a man flogged for preaching in this town, and he goes and preaches just the same in the next one! … Nothing broke him down. He was not cowed at all after having his feet in the stocks.
The message is named by its owner. That title is one of several the New Testament uses, each pointing to a different side of the same good news.
Because it is the message from God to men, it is called the gospel, or good news, of God. (Rom. 1:1; 1 Thess. 2:2.) Because its subject is the truth about the Lord Jesus, it is called the gospel of the Christ. (Rom. 15:19; Phil. 1:27.) And because it sets out God's ways with men in grace, it is called the gospel of the grace of God. (Acts 20:24.)
Because the message belonged to God, the messenger could not be talked out of it.
Sure that the good news was God's, they took courage in God to speak out, whatever opposition or violence surrounded them. So when the apostle urged the believers in Thessalonica that no one should be shaken by their affliction, he did not do it as an armchair scholar, loading a burden on other people's shoulders that he would not lift with his own finger.
Commentators differ on what the "conflict" describes. Kelly takes it as fire inside the preacher. He says Paul worked "with burning earnestness," and that this, rather than mere outward trouble, is what "much conflict" points to. Others read it as the hostility around him:
This did not discourage them or lessen their boldness in speaking the gospel of God, though it was in much conflict. They were not quarrelsome themselves. They stood their ground and declared the gospel in the face of the quarrelling of others. Their own comfort or safety was nothing next to the precious gospel of the grace of God.
Whichever way it is read, the striving is not quarrelling:
The apostle's preaching was with "much earnest striving." It was not the contention of the flesh, which only provokes the flesh, but earnest longing that strives to win the soul.
The violence in one city left neither city barren.
So God gave His faithful servants a time of great encouragement after severe suffering, and before further trouble broke over them in Thessalonica itself. We should remember that the violence at Philippi did not mean little was done in that city. Far from it — Paul's converts there were among the brightest trophies of grace.
- Suffered — Paul came to Thessalonica straight from the lash and the stocks at Philippi. The shame was public and the memory fresh.
- Bold — The courage was not natural nerve but boldness "in our God," following a Master who met stones with grace.
- God's — It is the gospel of God because it is His message to men. That ownership is what makes the messenger bold.
- Striving — Commentators differ on "much conflict": fire inside the preacher, or opposition around him. Either way it is earnest striving to win souls, not quarrelling.
- Fruit — Neither city was barren. Philippi gave some of grace's brightest trophies, and Thessalonica gave the servants a time of much encouragement.
For our exhortation [was] not of deceit, nor of uncleanness, nor in guile;
Paul looks back on his days in Thessalonica and puts his own preaching on trial. Three denials — no error, no impurity, no trick — clear his message, his motive and his method at once. They raise the question every listener should ask: where did this appeal come from, and what does the speaker want from me?
A man who stirred up a city, then vanished when trouble came, is easy to slander. One writer sets out what his opponents may have been saying while he was far away.
In this chapter the apostle speaks at length about himself, his motives and his intentions. Why? Clearly there was a real danger. The situation the Thessalonians faced could easily create false impressions about Paul and his work. Opponents may have argued like this: this man came here, caused a great stir, then vanished and left you in all this trouble — all he wants is followers he can make money from... Chapter 2 answers arguments like these.
Each denial closes a different door. The first touches the message, the second the appetite it appeals to, the third the honesty of the approach. Older translations call the three "deceit," "uncleanness" and "guile."
If the manner was bold, the motive was pure. There was nothing in the preacher or the preaching that deceived men. Paul did not preach with "deceit". His preaching was not with "uncleanness" that feeds the desires of men. Nor was it in "guile" that hides the truth... On the contrary, the Gospel that Paul preached, instead of deceiving, opened men's eyes to their true condition. It rebuked them for their sins. It told them the truth, even when that truth did not please or flatter them.
Read as "error," the first word clears Paul of something worse than dishonesty — of being fooled himself.
His conscience was as good as his boldness and endurance. His heart was honest, the very opposite of playing a part. He had not become the victim of delusion and then misled others. Error was as far from his appeal as impurity was. There was not the least intent to deceive, which is what "guile" means. Instead he pressed the truth home in a holy and sincere way.
The Thessalonians knew idol worship well. They could compare these three evils with what they had seen in it.
Idolatry was guilty of all three evils named here. The Thessalonians would see the difference in the message these men brought. Idolatry itself was religious deception... Guile also marks the methods idolaters use to win followers. They may offer very nice, proper things to begin with. Then, once a person accepts what looks like a drink of cold water, the poison goes in. Every false religion uses such methods.
Every preacher feels the pull to please the crowd. There is one cure for it.
The faces of men are in front of the preacher, and every servant has known the temptation to please his audience. The cure for that trap is to remember where the service came from, and the responsibility that comes with it: to please Him who has chosen him to be a soldier. Then he will be able to speak as from God, in the sight of God, in Christ. Man will disappear, and God alone will be before his soul.
Paul's trust was exceptional in size. The principle behind it is not.
Any service handed to us, however small, comes from God and not from man. So we are responsible to God, and He tests not only our words and acts but also our hearts. God put Paul in trust with the Gospel in a quite exceptional measure. Yet the three words, "PUT IN TRUST", may well be written on all our hearts. We must never forget that we are trustees.
Words are cheap, so he points them back to what they had watched him do.
The apostle, with an open and overflowing heart, points to his whole life among them. It proved that he had walked in the same spirit he was rejoicing to see in them. He did not urge others on while using their affection for his own advantage. He did not encourage them to endure suffering while lacking the courage to face the same himself. He had been badly treated and insulted at Philippi, yet he was bold in God to attack the kingdom of darkness again at Thessalonica.
- Trust first. God entrusted the gospel to Paul, and that one fact governs the rest — he speaks as a trustee, not as a salesman.
- Message clean. No error: he was neither a deceiver nor a man deceived, so what he handed on was truth, not delusion passed along.
- Motive clean. No impurity: his preaching never fed men's appetites, but exposed their real condition and rebuked their sins.
- Method clean. No guile: nothing hidden, no cold water first and poison after — the tactic every false religion uses to gain followers.
- Life matching. God tests the heart, so the crowd is not the judge. Paul offered as proof a life they had watched, including the courage to suffer what he asked them to bear.
but even as we have been approved of God to have the glad tidings entrusted to us, so we speak; not as pleasing men, but God, who proves our hearts.
Before Paul ever spoke a word in Thessalonica, God had tested him and then trusted him with a message. The verse shows where a servant's confidence comes from, and whose verdict he works for.
The verse keeps a definite order. God's approval comes first, and the trust follows. Paul never took up this message on his own.
There was as good a conscience as there was boldness and endurance. There was integrity of heart, the very opposite of playing a part... Grace forms responsibility, and grace enjoyed in the soul keeps that responsibility alive. They had God before them, God who proves the hearts, not men whose breath is in their nostrils.
Paul's commission was unusual in scale. The principle behind it is not.
Any service we have had committed to us, however small it may be, has been given by God and not by man. So we are responsible to God, and He tries not only our words and acts but also our hearts. Paul was put in trust with the gospel in a way that was altogether exceptional. But the three words, "PUT IN TRUST," may well be written on all our hearts. We must never forget that we are trustees.
"So we speak" ties the way the message is delivered to its source. A preacher cannot trim God's trust to fit his audience.
This was a sacred trust indeed. God did not commit it to cherub, or seraph, or any heavenly being, but to mortal man. He was to be the channel through which such pure water would flow to everyone around him... How easy it is to tickle the ears of men and to preach smooth things! How easy to cut the gospel down to human ideas or wishes; to put darkness for light and light for darkness. How easy to please men by denying sin and eternal punishment, the holiness of God, and the atoning death of our Lord Jesus Christ!
The pull toward the audience is real. There is one cure for it.
The faces of men are before the preacher, and every servant has known the temptation of trying to please his audience. The cure for the trap is to remember where the service came from, and the responsibility that comes with it — to please Him who has chosen him to be a soldier. Then he will be able to speak as from God, in the sight of God, in Christ. For man will disappear, and God alone will be before his soul.
Why does Paul appeal to God as the one who tests hearts, rather than to his own record? Because no audience can check a motive. Older translations say God "proves" or "tries" the heart; the sense is the same — He puts it to the test.
They knew the gospel was a sacred trust, given to them by the grace of the eternal God. How could they do anything but speak it as men directly responsible to God? God's gospel was not there for the mere pleasure of men. It is a message of pure truth, and the apostle took care to speak it in the way that pleased his Master, who tested their hearts. Men could not always judge another's motives, but God knew them perfectly. How important it is, then, that the soul should be fully open before God, taking care to please Him honestly.
Refusing to please men can be misread as permission to be blunt and abrasive. Paul's own practice rules that out.
In trying to avoid being a man-pleaser, some fall into the opposite evil and become deeply unpleasant. The apostle sought to please everyone in everything, for their profit. He became all things to all men so that he might save some. Yet he upheld the truth of the gospel, "not to please man, but to please God who tests our hearts." Being pleasing to God — that is what will keep us from falling on one side or the other!
- Approved — the order matters. God tested Paul first, then handed him the message. Nobody appoints himself to this trust.
- Entrusted — the gospel is a deposit, not property. Grace gives the trust, and the trust creates the responsibility.
- Trustees — the principle scales down. Whatever service you have, however small, came from God, so your accountability runs to God.
- Spoken — you pass on the trust the way God gave it. Smoothing it to suit the audience is not adaptation but breach of trust.
- Tested — hearers judge the words; God tests the heart behind them. Aim at His approval, and men fade from view. Yet pleasing God never means being unpleasant to people.
For we have not at any time been [among you] with flattering discourse, even as ye know, nor with a pretext for covetousness, God [is] witness;
Paul is defending the way he preached in Thessalonica. He does it by naming two things he never used. One is words that soothe an audience. The other is a respectable-looking cover for greed. To settle the charge he calls two witnesses — the Thessalonians for what they saw, and God for what only He could see.
The verse splits its proof. Flattery is public, so the readers can settle that question themselves. Greed hides inside, so Paul can only call on God.
Flattering words are the very worst words anyone can use. May we avoid all flattery. In this case Paul appealed to their knowledge of facts. They knew full well that he never flattered, but then might he not have coveted? He did not, and in this secret matter, where perhaps no human eye could see, he calls God to witness. In all this we learn his sincerity.
Flattery works by telling people something better about themselves than is true. That is what the gospel refuses to do.
"Flattering words" will win the friendship of people who are not honourable and careful themselves. An honest man will not accept flattery. Of course, flattery puts him in a much better light than is really true of him. It was by flattery that Absalom "stole the hearts of the men of Israel" (2 Sam. 15:1-6). But the gospel shows honestly the guilt of mankind and the pure grace of God. "A cloak of covetousness" would be a good appearance covering a greedy character. The Thessalonians knew this was not true of these servants of God, and God was witness.
One thing keeps a preacher clear of flattery, and it must be kept up all day.
No flatterer can be a faithful preacher of God's message. The one who would be kept from flattery must be in the fear of God all day long. Otherwise the fear of man, or covetousness, will betray him into what is so hateful to God and so harmful to men.
Older translations read "a cloak of covetousness" where the ESV has "a pretext for greed." Either way, this is greed hiding behind a reason that looks respectable.
He could therefore affirm that he had never used (1) flattering words — and he appeals to those he was writing to in confirmation of the fact — nor (2) "a cloak of," or with a pretext for, "covetousness," and of this God was witness.
These faults are not strange or rare. They are ordinary in the world, and flattery is the weapon that serves greed.
These three things are very common in the world. Men naturally seek their own things, so covetousness rules them, though they may disguise it under some cloak. Glory from man is also very dear to the human heart. Whether men chase possessions or glory, they find flattering words a useful weapon. With flattery they can often win favour with the influential. Paul refused all these things completely. As a servant of God, with God for his Judge and God for his Witness, they were altogether beneath him.
Every preacher looks into the faces in front of him. That pressure has one antidote.
The faces of men are in front of the preacher. Every servant has known the temptation to please his audience. The cure for this snare is to remember where the service comes from. With that comes the duty of pleasing Him who has chosen him to be a soldier. Then he will be able to speak as from God, in the sight of God, in Christ. Man will disappear, and God alone will be before his soul.
Money is not the only snare. Other pressures pull just as hard.
One cannot serve two masters. Patrons and congregations are not the only snares. Wanting influence, fearing disapproval, party spirit and church politics can all get in the way of loyalty to the Lord. In that case righteousness will surely suffer, and perhaps truth itself… If a worker of faith sees himself as approved by God and entrusted with the gospel, he will take all the more care that no one can blame the ministry.
- Flattery — the worst words anyone can use. They hand a person a better view of himself than is true. The gospel tells him honestly what he is.
- Greed — flattery's hidden partner. Men naturally seek their own things, and flattering words are the weapon they use to get them.
- Cloak — greed hides. It comes with a pretext: a respectable reason that covers the real one.
- Witness — flattery is public, so the hearers can testify. Greed is secret, so Paul calls God, content to have God judge him where no human eye can look.
- Safeguard — the servant who escapes these traps lives in the fear of God all day. He remembers who trusted him with the message. Then man disappears, and God alone is before his soul.
nor seeking glory from men, neither from you nor from others, when we might have been a charge as Christ's apostles;
Paul has already cleared himself of flattery and of greed. Here he names a third thing he refused — praise from people — and he refused it even though, as an apostle, he could have pressed his claims.
Flattery and money are obvious traps. A man may escape both and still crave admiration. One writer names this trap, then shows what Paul did instead:
But there are other ways in which the corruption of our nature is apt to indulge and betray itself. So many people who would never stoop to flattery, and may not be covetous, are vain or ambitious... Paul sought their blessing in the testimony of Christ — not what was theirs, but them, for God's glory. He was sent by the Lord on spiritual service, and could have claimed fair treatment in material things. Instead there was thorough self-denial in devotedness to Christ.
These three refusals are not rare failings. They describe how people usually operate:
These three things are extremely common in the world. Men naturally seek their own things, so covetousness rules them, though they may disguise it under some cloak. Glory from man is also very dear to the human heart. Whether they pursue possessions or glory, they find flattering words a useful weapon. By flattery they can often win favour with the influential. Paul refused all these things completely. As a servant of God, with God for his Judge and God for his Witness, they were altogether beneath him.
Older translations read "burdensome" here. One writer says the word is too narrow:
"Burdensome" fails to express the claims of weight, charge, or authority that are meant here.
So Paul gave up more than money. He also gave up standing on the authority his position gave him.
Paul's mention of his apostleship is not a boast. It is what gave the refusal its cost, and it proves his motives:
This was the proof that he did not covet. As an apostle of Christ he might have been a burden to them. He could certainly have enjoyed the material help of those to whom he carried spiritual blessing. But he made no such claim. Neither from them, nor from others, did he seek the financial gain he could have had as an apostle. In this we see his contentment.
Another writer notes what people do with Paul's list of rights. Many use it for the opposite purpose:
He states his rights only so that he may give them up. Many quote his words only so that they may insist on the rights he gave up for the gospel's sake. There would be no grace, no moral beauty, in letting go of privileges you never had. But when the right is clearly established, the grace that gives it up shows in full.
Paul and his fellow workers were not looking for a more appreciative audience somewhere else:
They allowed self no place of any kind when they preached the gospel. Neither among them nor among others would they stand on their rights as apostles. They did not seek glory and distinction from their converts.
When self-seeking goes, something takes its place. One writer names what moved Paul instead:
Selfishness seeking personal gain did not move the Apostle. What moved him was the mind of Christ, which forgets self and serves others in love. He was not driven by the self that seeks the applause of others, or one's own glory. He sought no glory from men, and would take nothing from the saints, even if he had the right to do so. He was moved by love that sought only the good of others — love that was not demanding from them but giving to them.
One writer looks at the servant this verse describes, and feels the rebuke:
What a picture of a faithful, unselfish, devoted, and loving servant! And how it rebukes many of us as we look at it!
- Third snare. Flattery and greed are not the only traps. A man clear of both can still be vain or ambitious.
- Wider than money. The older word "burdensome" is too narrow. Paul also gave up weight, charge and authority — standing on his position.
- Real right. He could have claimed material support from those he had blessed. His refusal proves he was not covetous.
- Right given up. Paul names his rights only to hand them over — and only a right truly held can be surrendered with grace.
- Love instead. With self set aside, love remained — love that gives instead of demanding, seeking only the good of others.
but have been gentle in the midst of you, as a nurse would cherish her own children.
The seventh verse of this chapter turns a corner: after listing everything Paul refused to do among the Thessalonians — flatter, exploit, chase reputation — he says what he actually was. The picture he reaches for is a nursing mother, and it raises the question of how one of the boldest men in the New Testament describes his own work in the softest terms available. (Older translations read "as a nurse cherishes her own children" where the ESV has "like a nursing mother taking care of her own children"; the commentators quoted below use the older wording.)
The word "but" ties this verse back to the rights Paul had just laid down. He had rights he could have used. He set them aside, and his motive is the point.
What moved the Apostle was not selfishness looking for personal gain, but the mind of Christ, which forgets self and serves others in love. … He looked for no glory from men, and would take nothing from God's people, even though he had the right to. He was moved by love that sought only the good of others — love that did not demand from them but gave to them; love that was gentle among them, just as a nurse cares tenderly for her children.
Paul does not just say a nurse. He says a nurse with her own children, and that detail carries the weight.
The picture of a parent, even a mother, is not enough to convey the tender care of a love whose source is God Himself. Babies need a nurse, and not every mother is one. The right picture here is a nurse caring tenderly for her own children — not a hired woman looking after someone else's child.
Gentleness is not the first word you expect for such a forceful man. One writer sets Paul's manner beside the mob violence in the same city, and explains what "cherish" means.
We may find it hard to imagine how this extremely forceful man could have been gentle, "like a nursing mother taking care of her own children," but so it was. Physical force is usually brutal. Spiritual force is gentle. Thessalonica saw plenty of the first kind, when the unbelieving Jews took "some wicked men of the rabble" and "set the city in an uproar" — yet it all came to nothing. Paul's gentleness, by contrast, left lasting results… He cherished them; that is, he kept them warm. And how could he do that unless his own love was warm?
A few verses on, Paul swaps the picture for a father. The two images are not rivals; they track the growth of the people he is caring for.
Here we have the lovely picture of the apostle's grace in watching over these young Christians, and he shows it in two forms. First, while they were still newborn, he cherished them as a nurse. Then, as they grew a little, he went on "working night and day, that we might not be a burden to any of you, while we proclaimed to you the gospel of God." … As they grew, the way he served their need changed. But the love that urged them on as a father was the very same love that had cared for them as a nurse.
A nurse watches over particular things. One writer lists them, and applies them to everyone who serves God's children.
The nurse gives careful thought to the air around the child, its food, its clothing, and the present state of its health. Would we not do well to think about these things more fully than we have done so far? … We are among God's children to serve Him as nurses of those who are dear to Him. We serve Him only so far as we serve them (as Paul did) out of what we have learned of Him for ourselves.
The same writer identifies the clothing as warmth against a cold world:
He had learnt the kind of food which had heretofore and was still sustaining him in it; he had learnt what it was to wrap himself around, and hence to wrap all of them around, in the blessed conscious warmth of DIVINE LOVE. Thus he acted the part of a nurse to them in this cold, cold world.
This is not just Paul's story. The same care belongs to ordinary Christians.
Often in the nursery an older child will assume an almost parental care of a younger child. It is a happy thing when the same happens in the things of the Lord. One Christian sets out to care for someone a little younger in grace and growth than himself, and the whole atmosphere of the church becomes one of kind care for the young.
- Not taking — giving. Paul had the right to be supported and refused it. This gentleness is what love looks like when a man lays self-interest down.
- Own, not hired. The nurse cherishes her own children. This is not paid duty over another's baby but love whose source is God Himself.
- Cherish means keep warm. Spiritual force is gentle. Only a warm love can keep anyone warm.
- Nurse, then father. The same love changes shape as people grow. It cradles infants, then urges them on as a father does.
- Your turn in the nursery. Young believers need food, warmth, and watchful care. Any older believer can give them.
Thus, yearning over you, we had found our delight in having imparted to you not only the glad tidings of God, but our own lives also, because ye had become beloved of us.
Paul is defending the way he and his companions worked in Thessalonica. This verse gives his answer: they gave a message, and then gave themselves.
The verse builds on the picture of a nurse in the line before it. One commentator asks which kind of nurse Paul means.
The figure of a parent, even a mother, fails to convey the tender care of a love which has its spring in God Himself. Babies need a nurse, and not every mother is one. The picture used here is a nurse cherishing her own children, not a hired worker looking after someone else's children.
(Some writers quoted here say "our own souls" where the ESV says "our own selves.")
They gave the gospel freely. One writer names the second gift, and the holy life that went with it.
In the apostle himself, at Thessalonica, Christian life reached its full growth in love and in holiness. He had been among them in tenderness, like a mother cherishing her children. He was ready to give them not only the gospel, but even his own life, because they were so dear to him. He had been at the same time holy and blameless in all his conduct. What energy of life and love, springing up by the power of God! It looked past every consequence except the blessing of God's chosen ones and the glory of God.
Another writer sets this giving beside the rights Paul refused to claim.
They had sought nothing from men. They had not insisted on rights that were clearly theirs. Instead they found delight in giving what they had to give — yes, and their own souls with it. This was not simply righteousness. It was love that did not seek its own, and in that love they worked, backing up all their teaching by example.
This affection had a starting point. One commentator traces it back to the day they believed Paul's message.
Paul had come to Thessalonica a complete stranger to those he now addresses. He had no natural tie with them at all. He preached the gospel to them. They received his testimony and were born of God. New affections at once existed between them — new ties which death could not sever.
Another writer names a second tie, formed by the service itself.
There is a bond which binds believers together… There is a special tie between the worker and those who have gained help and profit from his service. These believers had once been Gentiles and idol worshippers. Now they had become dear to Paul, Silas and Timothy, who were willing to give them not only the gospel of God, but their own souls as well.
This love comes from God. But we see it here in a man who shares our nature, and that is what makes it so useful to us.
What a picture of gracious interest in souls! And we see it, not in Him who has the full expression of divine love, but in a man with the same nature and feelings as ours. We must always look for the perfect form of this love in Christ alone. Yet it is good for us to see the life and love of Christ in a man who had to fight the very same evils that we have in our nature.
Paul did not write this way to every church. One commentator shows where the same words would not fit, and why.
But beyond this, their affection for the Thessalonians was such that they were willing not only to give them the gospel freely, but to pour out their whole soul for them. He could not speak this way to the Galatians or the Corinthians. In each case their own clear reserve about the truth demanded that he hold something back. How can the Lord's servant be free in his spirit with those who compromise the truth of his Master?
One writer draws a hard line between a public speaker and a true evangelist.
The man who is satisfied with the public platform is not an evangelist, however well he may speak there. The true evangelist may have a stammering tongue and broken words. He goes after men because he loves their souls. He carries the good news to them because it thrills his own soul like a trumpet call. He will win them for Christ at any cost to himself, because Christ has become precious beyond words to him.
- Message. They gave the gospel of God first, and gave it freely. But that gift alone was never enough for love.
- Messenger. With the message went the man: not only what he had to give, but his own life along with it.
- Motive. Behind it all is a nurse cherishing her own children, not a hired worker minding someone else's.
- Bond. Strangers became beloved through the gospel. Those ties began at conversion, and death cannot cut them.
- Mirror. Paul poured himself out on those who welcomed the truth without reserve. That love still tests every preacher who settles for a platform.
For ye remember, brethren, our labour and toil working night and day, not to be chargeable to any one of you, we have preached to you the glad tidings of God.
Paul reminds the Thessalonians of what they saw for themselves: the man who brought them the gospel also worked for his own bread. Why would a preacher with a clear right to support refuse it, and what did that refusal teach them?
One commentator compares Paul with Nehemiah, who would not come down from his great work.
Paul worked with his own hands in Thessalonica, and in Corinth too, from where he wrote to them. He did it so that he would be a burden to no one. Yet if anyone was entitled to say, like Nehemiah, "I am doing a great work and I cannot come down," it was the apostle. In another sense he really did come down, and he did his great work all the better for it. There was never a greater mind than his, and yet he worked with his hands night and day during his short stay among the Thessalonians.
His hands covered more than his own needs:
What he did was work with his own hands by night as well as by day. He supported himself, so that he would not be any burden upon them. He refers to this again in his second letter. And from Acts 20:34 we learn something astonishing. He met not only his own needs this way, but also the needs of those who were with him.
Was Paul owed support? One writer lists everything he did, and answers plainly.
Look at the splendid passage in 1 Corinthians 9. There the blessed apostle proves his right to support beyond all question. Then he gives it up completely: "I have made no use of any of these rights." He worked with his hands. He worked with labour and toil night and day, so that he would not be a charge or burden to anyone. He coveted no one's silver or gold or clothing. He travelled, he preached, he visited from house to house. He was the hard-working apostle, the earnest evangelist, the diligent pastor. He had the care of all the churches. Was he not entitled to support? Certainly he was.
So why not take what was his? One writer gives two reasons.
On the one hand, this devoted servant would not assert his rights, for fear he should be misunderstood. On the other hand, some of his converts had only just been rescued from the deepest darkness. He felt they needed an object lesson in him — how to earn an honest living. He says to the Thessalonians, "It was not because we do not have that right, but to give you in ourselves an example to imitate."
Because he asked nothing, his daily life carried the same message as his sermons.
In his daily life, the blessed apostle showed the gospel he preached. He lived the gospel. He did not demand or claim anything from them. He was not a burden to them. He preached to them the precious gospel of God freely; and so that he might do so, he worked with labour and toil, night and day. He used no high-sounding words about himself. He never talked up his office, his authority, his gifts, his preaching, or his wonderful deeds in other places.
His care took two forms as they grew.
First, when they were at their most infant stage, he cherished them like a nurse. When they grew a little, he continued his course: "we worked night and day, that we might not be a burden to any of you, while we proclaimed to you the gospel of God." As they grew, the way he met their need changed. But the same love that exhorted them as a father had cared for them as a nurse.
Tent-making did not lower Paul. One writer draws a conclusion for anyone who works with their hands.
We may well marvel that this extraordinary man could find any time for his tent-making. But somehow he did it, and so he made the gospel of Christ free of charge. And yet the Lord had ordained as a general rule that those who preach the gospel should live by the gospel. It is very evident that manual labour is honourable in the sight of God.
- Right — Paul proved that gospel workers deserve support. Then he declined it for himself.
- Refused — He gave it up so he would not be misunderstood, and so new converts would see how to earn an honest living.
- Worked — Night and day with his own hands, he met not only his own needs but those of his companions.
- Matched — Because he asked nothing, his daily life preached the same free gospel his mouth did.
- Loved — Nurse, worker, father: the form of his service changed as they grew, but the love behind it never did.