Now we enjoin you, brethren, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye withdraw from every brother walking disorderly and not according to the instruction which he received from us.
Paul does not advise here. He commands, in the name of the Lord Jesus, that the church step back from a brother who will not work.
The phrase is not decoration. It settles who decides how the assembly acts. No church may invent its own policy and call that the Lord's authority.
And what were their fellow believers to do, if that name ruled their hearts above all? There is no greater mistake than to imagine that the assembly is left to its own spiritual instinct, while claiming the Lord's authority for it. Not so: "If anyone thinks that he is a prophet, or spiritual, he should acknowledge that the things I am writing to you are a command of the Lord." … The temptation to claim the right to decide for itself is very common, and the professing church everywhere has fallen into the trap.
The problem was not scandal. It was idleness, and it grew out of a wrong idea about the day of Christ. Older translations call this "walking disorderly," the phrase the writers use.
Some among them had become fanatical in their thinking. They were sure that the day of Christ had come, so they gave up their ordinary jobs. Having done this, they began to expect others to support them.
Withdrawal is a second step. It follows warnings that the man ignored.
To walk disorderly is to be "out of rank," as the word implies. The person who will not listen to the warnings given to him is now to be withdrawn from.
"Tradition" here does not mean a custom passed down through the centuries. It means teaching that the apostle handed over to them.
As to traditions, no one who has read the Greek New Testament can doubt for a moment what the word means there. It is a doctrine delivered, not something handed down… So tradition in the popular sense stands in contrast with Scripture.
That teaching is not lost to us. We hold it today.
The apostolic "traditions" (2 Thess. 2:15; 3:6) were of divine authority, and now we have them as Scripture in the written word of God.
The verse still calls the man a brother. That one word limits how far the action may go.
Withdrawing from disorderly idlers is serious. But do not confuse it with purging out the wicked person in 1 Corinthians 5, which alone is excommunication. So they were not to treat a man who shirked work as an enemy. They were to correct him as a brother.
The break is a social one. His place at the Lord's Table is not touched yet.
The saints are to hold back all social contact with such a person and show him no sign of fellowship… even though he is still allowed at the Lord's Table. There is not yet enough ground to put such a person away from the assembly as a wicked person.
The distance is meant to be felt, and felt for a reason. Coldness that does not aim at recovery misses the point.
He was not put out of fellowship. But the saints were to have no personal fellowship with him. They were to keep a distance that the offender would clearly feel. This is not about personal impatience or anger. It comes from a desire for the true recovery and blessing of the guilty person. The object of all discipline is restoration.
Commentators differ on whether this is a joint act or a personal one. Some place it among the assembly's duties, as one step on a scale of discipline:
2 Thessalonians 3:6 calls for stronger action. If a warning was not enough, they were to "withdraw" from such a disorderly brother… In each of these cases the responsibility to act rests on the brothers — on the assembly as a whole — and not on particular people with gift or authority.
Others read it as a duty that rests on each believer, whatever the assembly does.
2 Thessalonians 3, like 2 Timothy 3, does not deal with public church discipline, but with private duty. Even if no one else acted, I ought to… No direction for the Church replaces personal duty, which rests on the directions of the word of God.
- The name. Paul commands in the name of the Lord Jesus. Here the assembly obeys; it does not decide for itself.
- The rank. "Disorderly" means out of rank. At Thessalonica it was men who quit work because they thought the day of Christ had come.
- The standard. The "tradition" they broke was the apostles' teaching. We hold that same teaching today as Scripture.
- The measure. Withdrawal means holding back company. It is not putting a man away as wicked. He is still called a brother.
- The aim. The distance is meant to be felt. Discipline at this level aims to win the man back before anything heavier is needed.
For ye know yourselves how ye ought to imitate us, because we have not walked disorderly among you;
Paul has just told the Thessalonians to keep away from any brother who walks out of step. He backs that command with the way he lived among them, which raises a plain question for every Christian: what gives anyone the right to correct others?
(The ESV says "idle." Older translations say "disorderly," and the commentators quoted here use that older word.)
The word Paul uses is not first about laziness. It is about position — about keeping rank:
Someone who walks disorderly, or "out of rank," as the word implies, and who does not listen to the warnings given to him, is now to be withdrawn from.
In Thessalonica that broken rank meant men had dropped their ordinary jobs. Empty hours then bred something worse:
Leisure from work is time for mischief, and occupation with the affairs of others without a duty is itself mischief.
The idleness had a root. These believers held on to the truth of the Lord's coming, so the enemy attacked from another angle:
If the enemy could not rob these saints of the truth of the Lord's coming, it seems he tried to trick them into misusing that truth. He led some of them to give up their daily work, claiming the Lord was about to come.
Paul does not just give orders. He can call them to follow him because he was himself following someone else:
Even when he calls the saints to show their disapproval of disorder, the apostle pleads with the hearts and consciences of all. How wonderfully he can urge them to follow, knowing that he himself was following the Master! This is a far truer "imitation of Christ" than the monk's version so popular in the Christian world.
He also had a right he chose not to use, and that choice gave his example its force:
The Lord's servants had left them a very important example of orderly conduct, and the saints were to follow them in it. They did not depend on others for their support, but worked night and day with labour and hardship. What an example indeed! Preaching the Word of God took a great deal of time, yet they also worked with their hands to keep themselves. If this was true of the Lord's servants, who were in Thessalonica for such a short time, how shameful for those who lived there permanently to sponge off others for their support! It would have been perfectly right for Paul and his fellow workers to be supported by those they taught the Word, but they did not use that right, so that they might be a more effective and striking example.
His self-denial did the correcting before he spoke a word of rebuke:
He set a pattern of unselfish grace at great cost to himself... He could point to his own daily ways among them at the start of the gospel. They were the witness of a self-denial which by itself rebuked the disorderly brothers in the strongest yet most gracious way. Those men were working neither day nor night, and were not ashamed to eat the bread of anyone who would supply them for nothing.
The word behind "imitate" means to mimic, and the man who told them to work with their hands could hold up his own hands as proof:
They forget that the one who urged this ambition — to work with your own hands — could hold out his hands and say, "these hands ministered to my necessities and to those who were with me." "These hands" were probably worn and calloused from making tents... And in the Second Epistle, chapter 3, verses 7 and 9, we read: "You know yourselves how you ought to imitate (mimic) us... We give ourselves as an example to you, so that you would imitate (mimic) us."
The same test falls on anyone who teaches others:
It is extremely dangerous, morally, for a man to teach in public what he does not live in private — dangerous for himself, very damaging to the testimony, and harmful to the people he deals with.
- Rank — "Disorderly" means out of rank. In Thessalonica it meant dropped work, and the empty hours produced busybodies.
- Root — The disorder grew out of a true teaching misused. Some made the Lord's coming an excuse to quit their daily work.
- Backing — Paul's command carried weight because he had already obeyed it in front of them. He asked them to follow him only as he followed his Master.
- Cost — He had every right to their support, and refused it. He worked night and day, so that the example itself would rebuke the idlers.
- Imitation — The call is to copy a life, not just admire it. So what a teacher lives in private must match what he says in public.
nor have we eaten bread from any one without cost; but in toil and hardship working night and day not to be chargeable to any one of you
Paul reminds the Thessalonians how he lived among them: he paid for his food and worked night and day. Why did a preacher with a real right to support refuse it, and what did his working hands teach the church?
The words behind "toil and labor" are not gentle ones. One study of the Greek explains what the second one carries:
μόχθος (from μογέω, "to labour, be in distress") occurs three times in the New Testament. It has been judged to refer to the toil that is man's lot in this world of sin. It answers to "By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread." Paul's twice using it of his own labours seems to confirm this. He had to work night and day on top of his apostolic work. 1 Thess. 2:9; 2 Thess. 3:8.
Paul gave up the support. He did not give up the right to it:
Yet the apostle is careful to claim the worker's right. He speaks as he worked, in total self-surrender: "It was not because we do not have that right, but to give you in ourselves an example to imitate" (verse 9). It is one thing to claim the right the Lord gives to His service. It is quite another to claim it where people might misread or misuse it. So here, as at Corinth, he lets it go — a right he carefully explains that God gave, and one worth holding on to, for the givers as well as the receivers.
Why then did he take on the extra burden? One writer gives two reasons, and adds that Paul did accept support at other times:
On the one hand, this devoted servant would not claim his rights, for fear he should be misunderstood. On the other hand, he saw the state of some of his converts. They had only just been brought out of the deepest darkness. They needed an object lesson in him, showing how to earn an honest living... At the same time, we must not forget that there were times when he did receive, and he fully recognised that to be the divine order. "I robbed other churches," he wrote to the Corinthians, "by accepting support from them in order to serve you."
Some at Thessalonica had simply stopped working. Others have done the same since, and dressed it up as holiness:
A strange group of fanatics, in the earlier and the later days of Christendom, treated giving up work as the path to perfection. They claimed to be men of prayer above others... Their boast was that they neither sowed nor reaped. But they could not escape the charge that they liked the barn, and liked it well filled. The germ of this selfishness showed itself among the Thessalonian saints. But the apostle at once discouraged it and dealt it a heavy blow. He could point to his own work with his hands.
Another writer traces the trouble to the enemy, who turned the hope of the Lord's coming into an excuse:
He had "the right," as a servant of the Lord, to receive material help (1 Cor. 9:7-14). But for their good he gave up the right. He worked in toil and hardship night and day to meet his own needs. So his life became an example for all, and a rebuke to those who would not work. Apparently, if the enemy could not rob these saints of the truth of the Lord's coming, he tried to trick them into misusing it. He led some to give up their daily work, on the plea that the Lord was coming at once.
Paul's trade was not a lower kind of life, cut off from his walk with Christ:
The outer life matches the inner. The power and grace of Christ are not only in the affections of the heart. They also flow out in love to God, through outward ways that carry God's stamp and the fragrance of Christ... This must show itself. It gives a fresh colour to the ordinary things of this life, so that they become in truth the most extraordinary.
- The right — God gave Paul a real claim to support from those he taught. Nothing here cancels it.
- The refusal — He gave it up so no one could misread him, and so new believers could watch him earn an honest living.
- The toil — His word for labour means hardship: sweat-of-the-face work, carried on top of his preaching.
- The example — His working hands answered everyone who dressed up idleness as holiness.
- The bread — He paid for his own bread, and his daily trade became the most extraordinary of ordinary things.
not that we have not the right, but that we might give ourselves as an example to you, in order to your imitating us.
Paul had just reminded the Thessalonians that he worked night and day rather than eat anyone's bread for free. Here he explains why: he had a full claim to their support, and he gave it up so his own life could be a pattern to copy.
Paul does not want his self-denial taken as a denial that workers should be supported at all.
Yet the apostle is careful to insist on the workers' right, though he speaks as he worked, in total self-surrender: "It was not because we do not have that right, but to give you in ourselves an example to imitate" (verse 9). It is one thing to claim the right the Lord gives to His service. It is quite another to claim it where it might be misunderstood or misused. Here, as at Corinth, he gives up what he carefully explains to be a God-given right, and one that matters greatly for both the givers and the receivers.
Paul's statement of his rights is often quoted for the opposite purpose.
There is a very marked difference between Paul's object in stating his rights and the object of many who quote his words. He states his rights only so that he may abandon them; many quote his words only so that they may insist on the rights he abandoned for the gospel's sake. There would be no grace, no moral beauty in giving up privileges you never had a right to. But when the right is clearly established, the grace that gives it up shows in full. So it was with Paul. He had a right to live by the gospel, but grace led him to live by the work of his hands. He would take nothing from the Corinthians; but that was to their shame. He did receive "once and again" from the Philippians; that was fruit abounding to their account.
Commentators give more than one reason for the choice at Thessalonica. One is the effect on those watching.
It would have been perfectly right for Paul and his fellow workers to live on the support of those they taught the Word to. But they did not use that right, so that they might be a more effective and striking example.
Another is the state of the converts themselves, who were new to the faith.
On the one hand, this devoted servant would not assert his rights, for fear he should be misunderstood. On the other hand, he saw the state of some of his converts, who had only just been rescued from the deepest darkness. They needed an object lesson in him, showing how to earn an honest living.
The word behind "imitate" means to mimic. The renderings below follow an older translation, which brings that out.
He urged these same saints to make it their ambition to live quietly and to work with their own hands. In that very same letter he wrote: "You became our imitators (mimics: mimetes), and of the Lord." And in the second letter, chapter 3, verses 7 and 9, we read: "You know yourselves how you ought to imitate (mimic) us … We … give ourselves as an example to you, in order to your imitating (mimicking) us."
The idleness in Thessalonica may have had a deeper root than laziness.
For some of them had stopped working with their hands. It may be that this was the fruit of some corrupt view of the truth that marked them out, the coming of the Lord. For it is Satan's way, if he cannot rob us of truth, to corrupt it while it is still in our hand. The Thessalonians were zealous; they had set their hearts on meeting the Lord, but this had become tied to deserting their quiet, hard-working, private walk. He does not condemn this zeal, or try to correct the evil by taking the Lord's coming out of their sight. We have seen that it is actually his great subject. But he wants them to wait for it patiently, and not in disorder. He presses this duty on them by reminding them of his example and his instructions while he was among them.
- Right. Paul did have a right to be supported, and he says so here. His self-denial is not a rule against caring for the Lord's workers.
- Released. He names the right only to lay it down. Giving up a privilege you never owned is nothing. Giving up one that is truly yours is where grace shows.
- Reason. Commentators give two. Working for his own keep made the lesson sharper, and new converts needed to see honest work done in front of them.
- Replicated. The aim of the sacrifice was a pattern to copy — imitation so close that the word used means to mimic.
- Remedy. The example met a real disorder. Some had turned the hope of the Lord's return into an excuse for idleness. Paul corrected them without dimming that hope.
For also when we were with you we enjoined you this, that if any man does not like to work, neither let him eat.
Paul is not giving a new rule here. He had already told the Thessalonians this face to face, because some had stopped working and were living off other people's labour. So how does a command this blunt fit with Christian generosity? And why did a church waiting for the Lord's return need to hear it?
The strange thing is that believers needed to hear this at all. One writer is amazed that Christians behaved this way:
Who could have thought that godly Christian men would be so thoughtless, to say no more, as to live without working? Who could have thought they would be so selfish as to expect support from those who did work, or who lived on what their work earned? Yet that is what was happening among the saints in Thessalonica, and the apostle had even warned them of it when he was there. This danger could appear anywhere and at any time. But it is most likely where saints are fresh and simple in the life of Christ: the very blessing exposes them to the peril.
The verse turns on the words not willing. It describes someone who refuses to work, not someone who cannot find work:
Suppose a lazy man who will not work, though he is able, and lives by borrowing. 2 Thessalonians 3:10 gives us direction here. It supposes a man who refuses to work when he can. There may be an excellent brother out of work and in need, and it is a privilege to help him. But God has given us Scripture to guide us in all cases.
Waiting for Christ does not excuse a disorderly life. Notice which letters press honest work hardest:
The apostle would not let disorderly ways bring reproach on this hope, or on the Lord Himself. So he points to his own example. And nowhere does he press the duty of honest work more than in the letters that most urge Christ's coming as the near and constant hope of the Christian.
Another writer puts the same point in sharper personal terms — work is not only for one's own supply:
Though I am not to be doubtful or worried about the future, I am still to labour, working with my hands at what is good so that I have something to give to others in need. Work is not simply a means of storing up provision for the future on earth, but of providing things honestly in the sight of all men, now.
Empty hours do not stay empty:
Those who do no business of their own are apt to become busybodies, as the apostle warns them in sharp words. Free time away from work is time for mischief. And meddling in other people's affairs, when you have no duty there, is itself mischief.
One writer calls honest work a mercy — it guards a person from worse things:
For children not yet converted, and for adults in the same state, work is a merciful help. It guards them against the dangers of idleness and against giving way to lust and passion. Even for the faithful it is good, just as refusing to work when a person has no means is bad. So the apostle states it in short, sharp words: if anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat. Given in the right way, this remedy would usually heal, and it would never fail.
The rule limits who we should support. It does not close the giver's hand:
The Lord makes the most just and tender appeals for the poor, and He also guards the rich. He condemns the lazy in the strongest terms. Such is the fullness and wisdom of Scripture. This is what we command you: "If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat." Giving to those in need, as far as we are able, is one of our most sacred Christian privileges. But to support the idle would break the word of God.
Notice how ordinary the subject of this command is:
Christianity has a striking mark. Nothing is too great or high for the saint, and nothing is too little or low for God. He concerns Himself even with a duty as simple and small as a man working day by day and not living off his brothers.
- Refusal, not need. The verse targets a man who will not work though he can; a believer out of work and in need is someone it is a privilege to help.
- Hope, not excuse. The letters that press Christ's near return hardest also press honest work hardest. Disorderly ways dishonour the coming Lord.
- Idle, then interfering. Time freed from work does not stay empty. Those who do no business become busybodies, and free time turns into mischief.
- Rule as remedy. The command works like medicine. Work guards against idleness and its appetites. Holding back bread aims to heal a man, not to crush him.
- Give freely, fund no idleness. Scripture tells us to give freely to real need. It also forbids funding the idle. And God cares about something as small as a man earning his own bread.
For we hear that [there are] some walking among you disorderly, not working at all, but busybodies.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Now such we enjoin and exhort in [the] Lord Jesus Christ, that working quietly they eat their own bread.
Paul has just named the problem in the church at Thessalonica. Some believers had stopped working. They lived off others and meddled in everyone else's affairs. Now he turns from talking about them to talking to them. His remedy is short: quiet work and bread you have earned yourself.
The trouble did not start in laziness but in a wrong idea about the Lord's return that had been pressed on the church.
Verse 6 of this third chapter and the verses that follow make it clear. The mistaken ideas about the coming of the Lord, urged on the Thessalonians, had already borne evil fruit. It is always the way that bad company corrupts good habits. Some among them had become fanatical in their thinking. They were under the impression that the day of Christ was upon them, and they gave up their ordinary jobs. Having done this, they began to expect support from others.
Commentators differ on which idea did the damage. One writer traces it not to love for the Lord's appearing, but to fear that the day of judgment had already begun.
In my judgment it was not too much enthusiasm about the Lord's coming that made any of them neglect their daily duty. It may rather have been alarm about the day of the Lord, as if it had already begun. That fear made some unwilling to do honest work, and set them gossiping about their fears. The disorderly are not described as wicked people, but are still spoken of as brothers.
The Greek word behind "quietly" is not silence. It describes the person who leaves other people's business alone.
The word hesuchia expresses the general idea of "quietness," not "silence" as in the older translation. See also 2 Thessalonians 3:12, where it stands in contrast to interfering in other people's matters.
The command reaches past the symptom to its cause. And it comes with pleading, not only with authority.
But here too faith works by love; the truth builds up instead of destroying or scattering. Discipline has its measure, since the end is restoration. The meddling, and its cause, idleness, must both go. The name of the Lord was incompatible with both; but the apostle pleads as well as commands. So even what nature itself might teach is bound up with our Lord and Saviour. It is a question of God's kingdom, not of mere morality, as if we were only men, and grace and truth did not exist in Christ.
Paul does not simply say "please." He speaks under a name that carries weight.
Where it is "the Lord Jesus Christ," we have authority — as for instance, 2 Thessalonians 3:12, "Now such persons we command and exhort in the Lord Jesus Christ, that with quietness they work and eat their own bread."
Scripture is full of calls to give generously to those in real need. What it refuses is the idle person who lives on what others earned.
Eating other people's bread in idleness was no part of Christian teaching, which commanded the opposite. The Word is full of calls to be generous and brotherly toward those in real need (Galatians 6:6; Ephesians 4:28; 1 John 3:17; 3 John 8). But eating the bread of others in idleness the Word plainly forbids. Those who had been doing the opposite were now to aim at eating their own bread. They could learn from the apostle, who worked night and day at his trade so as not to burden the saints.
Paul never cures the problem by taking their hope away. He leaves the expectation in place and adds the workbench to it.
This very posture of waiting for the Son from heaven had produced a certain evil. The Thessalonian saints were neglecting their present handiwork. The apostle does not try to change their posture at all. He urges them to hold it together with diligence and watchfulness, so that while their eye was gazing, their hand might be working (2 Thessalonians 3).
The verse aims at the idle, but the surrounding instruction touches the generous too. Misplaced kindness keeps the disorder alive.
The folly of their hearers keeps foolish talkers going. Bread eaten without cost must find someone ready to pay the cost. Here indeed a false generosity might do harm to many more than those who indulged in it. How little we think of the various ways in which we may become "partakers of other men's sins!"
- Cause. A wrong idea about the day of the Lord unsettled minds. Unsettled minds quit their jobs and started running other people's lives.
- Command. The correction comes in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. That is real authority, joined with pleading, because the aim is recovery, not removal.
- Quietness. The word means quietness, the opposite of interfering. The meddling and the idleness behind it must both go.
- Own bread. Scripture is full of calls to meet genuine need. It forbids living on what others earned instead of working. A false generosity makes you a partner in the fault.
- Result. Hope is never the enemy of labour: the eye gazes upward while the hand keeps working.
But *ye*, brethren, do not faint in well-doing.
Paul has just dealt with people in the Thessalonian church who refused to work and meddled in other people's affairs. Now he turns to the rest with a short word: keep going in what is right.
Two groups in Thessalonica get two different words from Paul.
In verse 12 we have Paul's word to these busybodies. He commands them to work for their own living. Then in verse 13 he turns to the rest of the assembly at Thessalonica and tells them not to be weary in well-doing. We can well imagine how tired they must have got of these disorderly brothers who kept taking advantage of their kindness. If they were now to be relieved of this burden, they should not stop being generous. They should still be hearty and cheerful givers in the interests of the Lord.
Watching other people behave badly changes the one who watches.
Disgust at people whose behaviour is unworthy is neither grace nor righteousness. It is easy for good people to lose heart in doing what is proper and honourable. The dislike of selfishness in others soon produces reaction and repulsion in themselves. The apostle would not have it so. He wanted steady, earnest perseverance in all that is fair in the Master's eyes, while dealing plainly with such erring brothers and dishonourable ways.
Being worn down does not leave us neutral. It pushes us one of two ways.
When we are around disorderly people, we must be careful not to grow impatient or weary in doing good. The constant strain can wear us down. Then we either grow indifferent to them, or we deal harshly with them.
Commentators differ on the exact shade of the phrase. Hole reads it as continued generosity toward others. Kelly reads the Greek differently.
This would not need saying, but great names have misled people. The word kalopoiountes, in itself and in its usage, does not allow the sense of doing good in acts of kindness to others. This on the contrary might play into the hands of those the apostle censures. We must not confuse to agathon (good done to others) with to kalon (what is honourable). They occur in the proper and distinctive sense of each in the same context of Galatians 6:9-10. Honourable and upright practice is the point here.
The call is about courage, not energy. Willis applies it to ordinary work.
I suppose this means you and I are not to be discouraged by the daily grind of our daily work. We are not to lose heart or turn coward — not in the office, the shop, the kitchen, the field, the school, or wherever else we work. Let us do our daily work to the Lord and not to men, and let us not grow discouraged in it. It is our Lord's own command. There may be much evil around you. It may be terribly hard, and we may be desperate. But even so, let us never give in to evil, never turn coward, never lose heart.
Willis traces the same word through other places where we are tempted to quit.
So, to sum up, let us not give in to evil — not by giving up prayer (Luke 18:1), not in failing health and old age (2 Corinthians 4:1 and 16), not in doing good (Galatians 6:9), not in tribulation (Ephesians 3:13), and not in our daily tasks (2 Thessalonians 3:13).
Doing right can feel dull and unrewarded. The cure is to change who you work for.
Though we feel "well-doing" to be a boring, unrewarding occupation, yet we must not become weary in it. Colossians 3:23 says, "Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men." If we take that to heart, it would lift every responsibility far above the thought of drudgery.
- Cause. Other people's disorder wears believers down. Paul writes to those tired of carrying idle brothers.
- Danger. Weariness has two exits: not caring about the disorderly, or being harsh with them. Disgust is neither grace nor righteousness.
- Meaning. Commentators differ. Hole keeps the sense of generous giving; Kelly reads the word as honourable, upright practice, not charity.
- Force. This is about losing heart, not losing strength. The same word covers prayer, failing health, tribulation, and daily work.
- Cure. Work done for the Lord and not for men stops being drudgery — in the office, shop, kitchen, field, or school.
But if any one obey not our word by the letter, mark that man, and do not keep company with him, that he may be ashamed of himself;
Paul closes his letter with a rule for the reader who refuses to obey it. Believers are to note that person and pull back from his company, so that he feels shame and turns. Two questions follow. How far does the pulling back go? And how does it stay short of treating a fellow believer as an enemy?
The trouble Paul has been correcting is not scandalous sin. It is idleness. One writer explains who acts in a case like this.
This is what we may call personal discipline in private life. It matters greatly. Sadly, it is much needed but little understood. It is not a case calling for the action of the assembly, but for faithful personal dealing. The disorderly walking referred to is a brother not working, but going about as an idle busybody. Such a one was to be admonished, and avoided. We cannot help thinking that this form of discipline is much needed. Many people whose ways do not call for excommunication still need faithful dealing.
Action starts when someone refuses to obey what Paul wrote in this letter. That letter is more than one man's opinion.
They were neither to be indifferent on the one hand, nor to be stumbled on the other. Disgust at those who walk unworthily is neither grace nor righteousness... Disobedience was not to be passed by. "What we say in this letter" was not a word of men. It was, in truth, God's word. It works in those who believe, and it leaves those who make light of it worse than before.
The same holds for all of Scripture. It speaks with authority straight to ordinary readers.
The apostles wrote to churches and to Christians. These people were to receive what they wrote and live by it — to receive it as "the commandments of the Lord." Those who did not heed the words of the apostles were to be noted and avoided. So the Scriptures came with authority, and came at once, to the body of ordinary Christians. They were bound to receive them, believe them, obey them, and act on them. No interpreter was to stand between the authority of that written word and their souls.
This instruction stops short of putting anyone out of the assembly.
This is not a case for putting away, or for church discipline as in 1 Corinthians 5. Here the believers act one by one against the idle and mischievous man, by withdrawing from all personal fellowship with him. The aim of this Christian discipline is to press a united testimony on the heart and conscience of the one who "walks disorderly," so that the assembly never has to expel him. The apostle does not say "put away." He says, "take note of that person, and have nothing to do with him, that he may be ashamed" — that is, that he may see his evil way and forsake it.
Another writer marks how far the withdrawal reaches, and where it stops.
A believer who walks contrary to the Word of God is walking in disorder. Believers are to mark him out and keep apart from him, so that he feels his wrong and is ashamed of his course. Withhold all social contact and every expression of fellowship... This discipline of withdrawal is corrective. Its aim is that the disorderly one may be broken down in his course, restored to the Lord, and keep his place at the Lord's table. He is not to be counted as an enemy, but is to be admonished as a brother.
Withdrawal must not become coldness of heart. One writer separates two things that sound alike.
The apostle says, in writing to the Hebrews, "Let brotherly love continue." But he nowhere says, Let brotherly kindness continue. "Love never fails." Kindness must, in some cases. A brother, through the power of Satan, may be walking disorderly. Or he may fall into error, and so become a proper subject of discipline. Toward such a one our conduct must change, though our love stays the same, or even grows stronger... The people spoken of here are still in fellowship. So it is hard to cherish brotherly love and at the same time carry out a wholesome discipline toward them.
The pulling back can be quiet. One writer shows what it looks like day to day.
Sometimes a little silent neglect, which no one but our brother may notice, works better than pressing on with spoken warnings he refuses to hear. This is true above all when the withdrawal carries clear signs of sorrow, with acts of thoughtful love as occasion allows. Our blessed Lord gave the choicest portion of the dish to the poor wretch He knew was planning to betray Him.
- Word — the trigger is refusal to obey the letter. That letter is God's word, and it binds every ordinary Christian directly.
- Walk — the fault is not gross sin but disorder: not working, and going about as an idle busybody.
- Note — he is marked and avoided, but not put away. This is personal discipline, meant to prevent an expulsion rather than carry one out.
- Shame — withdrawing company is corrective. He feels his wrong, gives it up, and is restored to the Lord.
- Brother — kindness may stop; love never does. He is still a brother to admonish, not an enemy.
and do not esteem him as an enemy, but admonish [him] as a brother.
Paul has just told the Thessalonians to mark the brother who refuses his word. They must stop keeping company with him. This closing line sets the limit on that action. The man they avoid is still family. The aim is his recovery, not his removal.
Two levels of discipline stand behind this verse. Commentators place these instructions on the lighter of the two.
This is not a case for putting away, the church discipline of 1 Corinthians 5. It is discipline that believers carry out one by one against the idle and mischievous man. They withdraw from all personal fellowship with him. The aim of this Christian discipline is to press that united testimony on the heart and conscience of the man who walks disorderly, so that the assembly never has to put him out.
Withdrawing looks unkind. What makes the difference is the spirit behind it.
Some men are warned about their disorderly course and still keep on in it. Then much more serious measures of discipline are needed. This is more painful to put into practice, but it is true kindness. Believers must withdraw from the brother who walked disorderly. He was not put out of fellowship. Yet the believers were to have no personal fellowship with him, keeping a reserve that the offender would clearly feel. There is no thought here of personal impatience or anger. The desire is for the true recovery and blessing of the guilty party. The object of all discipline is restoration.
Paul does not simply say to warn the man. He says warn him as a brother. That relationship rests on birth, not on behaviour, so bad conduct cannot dissolve it.
One's brother must remain in that relation whatever the ups and downs of his affairs, or the character of his ways. The elder son in the parable was reminded that the prodigal was his brother (Luke 15:32). The Thessalonian Christians were urged to count the believer their brother, even though he was walking disorderly and would not obey the Word. He would need warning in such a case. They were not to hold that back. But the tie of spiritual birth was there, and they were to remember it.
Keeping no company with a man, while warning him as a brother, can look like a contradiction. One writer answers it by separating two things: how we act, and how we love.
Through the power of Satan, a brother may be walking disorderly, or he may fall into error. He then becomes a proper subject of discipline. Toward such a one our conduct must change, though our love remains the same, or even stronger... The people spoken of here are still in fellowship. That is what makes it hard to cherish brotherly love and at the same time exercise a wholesome discipline toward them.
So what would treating him as an enemy look like? One writer answers by pointing to the harsher step this man is being spared.
They were neither to be indifferent on the one hand, nor to be stumbled on the other. Disgust at those who walk unworthily is neither grace nor righteousness... Is he then put out from among the believers, as a wicked person? Exactly the opposite: "Do not regard him as an enemy, but warn him as a brother." He was seriously wrong, and believers refused his company. But brotherly warning is the word, not being put out of the assembly as if he were an enemy and a wicked man.
A warning only works if the man can tell it comes from love.
On the other hand, there must be care that no harshness or unbrotherly conduct creeps in. That would destroy the effect of the discipline all over again. Harshness or a legal spirit could not reach the end sought — only love could. Being sure of that love would take hold of the offender. It would draw him, and let the warning gain a hearing. Only at another's feet can one wash them.
- Brother, not offender. New birth forms the tie, so it survives the failure. The son who ran away was still his father's son and his brother's brother.
- Brother, so limited. This is not putting away. Believers withdraw personal company, one by one, and stop short of putting him out.
- Brother, so aimed. The point of the withdrawal is recovery. Discipline that goes beyond restoration has overshot its purpose.
- Brother, so loved. Conduct toward him changes; love toward him does not — and may need to grow stronger.
- Brother, so gently. Harshness kills the very effect sought. Only love makes the admonition worth hearing.
But the Lord of peace himself give you peace continually in every way. The Lord [be] with you all.
The letter closes with a prayer, not a command. False teaching and hard circumstances were robbing young believers of their peace, so Paul hands the whole situation over to Christ under a name used nowhere else.
The letters link peace to God again and again. One phrase, though, stands alone.
Seven times in the letters we read of "the God of peace," and surely He will supply abundance of peace for those who love Him. Once is that beautiful title given to Christ by the Spirit — "the Lord of peace." How encouraging is the verse where it occurs.
A name in Scripture is not decoration. It tells you what the one who bears it will do.
"The Lord of peace" is a blessed title. In it He stands related to the saints and revealed to them. They might and ought to be sure that He could not fail to act in keeping with it. For the name of the Lord expresses what He is and what He does. We feel we owe help to our own relatives when they are in difficulty. What is that sense of duty compared with His unfailing grace?
The title fit their situation. They were young believers, and everything around them was working against their peace.
These were unsettling circumstances indeed, designed to rob these young believers of their peace. Note what was in danger of unsettling them. It was in no way the teaching they had received from Paul. It was the false doctrine being spread, and their circumstances. How appropriate for them to be directed to "the Lord of peace," the one who holds supremacy or, as has been said, the one who "is at the helm and not only preserves the ship but controls the elements."
The verse does not stop at describing His character. It asks Him to hand that peace over.
Now Paul goes a step further. He not only presents to them the Lord of peace but expresses his desire that He, the Lord of peace "Himself", would "give" them peace. Peace is not only at His disposal, it not only characterises Him, but He would make it available to them.
The two small phrases at the end of the request are the point of it. Paul closes off every gap through which fear might return.
Paul did even more. He asked for peace not only at all times, but "in every way." Could anyone imagine a more deliberate shutting out of every source of alarm at all times? Could there be a stronger guarantee of peace from the Lord of peace Himself? And what fountain of peace can match with Him? These were saints of little experience, passing through a world full of trouble at all times, with a predicted time of tribulation ahead beyond anything before it.
If the supply never fails, a lack of peace must have another cause. Grant quotes an older translation, where the two phrases read "always" and "by all means."
The apostle's desire is that the Lord may give them this peace "always" and "by all means." It is not that the Lord withholds it by choice. Our state of soul may be such that we do not enjoy it. The answer to this is the drawing of our hearts and eyes to Himself. "By all means," too, suggests that every circumstance He allows may be the means God uses to make this peace a constant reality to the heart.
The first letter ended by asking the God of peace to set them wholly apart for Himself. Writers notice that the second ends lower, and more soberly.
It will be observed here that there is no longer the same expression of the energy of communion and of life as before (compare 2 Thess. 3:16 with 1 Thess. 5:23). Nevertheless the Lord was still the Lord of peace; but the beauty of that entire consecration to God, which would shine out in the day of Christ, does not present itself to the apostle's mind and heart as in the first letter. He prays for them, however, that they may have peace always and by all means.
The closing words look like an ordinary farewell. Faith sees far more in them.
This, too, is crowned by "The Lord be with you all" — a wish of small price in eyes which see only a man writing to other men. What is it to those who know by faith? They see God using a servant, under His own unfailing guidance, to communicate His mind and heart to His children while they pass through the world. What use are all other helps, if "the Lord" is not with us all? And why should we not have perfect peace, if He is with us, whoever and whatever else is lacking?
- Person — the answer to trouble is a title, not a technique: "the Lord of peace," used only here. A name in Scripture states what its bearer does.
- Gift — Paul does not just describe Him as peaceful. He asks Him to hand that peace over, because it is His to give.
- Reach — "at all times" and "in every way" shut out every moment and every route by which alarm could return.
- Reception — the supply never fails. Where peace is not enjoyed, the state of the soul is in question, and the cure is to look back to Him.
- Presence — the prayer ends with the Lord Himself among them. If He is with us, no other lack can rob us of peace.