Altar’d: Curmedgeon’s least favorite verse. Men’s BS
Intro
Richard S. Ascough’s work is most convincing toward this theory of the artisan church. Ascough places not only the passages about work and labor within a community of artisans but also shows that the concerns regarding death and life after death are intrinsically related to the purposes of first-century, voluntary associations. In other words, the members of the community of believers in Thessalonki have gathered together because of their common trade and their common faith in Jesus Christ, formally organized around the structure of a first-century voluntary association, professional guild, or artisan club. Ascough’s research reveals that one of the primary functions of professional guilds in the first century was to provide for the death, burial, and memorial of association members. Hence, the predominance of apocalyptic thought in the words of the community and Paul relates not only to their concern over the death of loved ones, but also to one of the primary concerns of their professional artisan guild. [Paul’s Words on Death for the Artisan Community]
Paul, the apostle and tentmaker, knows the world of the artisan. He knows how to work with his hands, and that knowledge forges an immediate connection between Paul, the manual laborer, and these Thessalonian believers. With this particular lens of vision, Paul’s words, “work with your own hands,” have special meaning
The social world of artisans creates a new backdrop for understanding these letters. As I read Paul’s words, I see a community of skilled artisans who have gathered in their workroom to hear his letters read. They pause from their task, wipe the dust from their hands, and listen to their artisan-colleague, Paul, who in earlier days shared their same tools and workspace. In that context of dust and death, craft and faith, the members of the community learn how to live more closely in relationship to God and to one another.
Scripture
Rejoice always; pray unceasingly; give thanks in everything (5:16–18). These two words, “rejoice always,” have often been misunderstood. Many literal readers understand the verse to mean that the believer is in a giddy state of gladness all the time.
How did a first-century artisan hear this verse? Perhaps he thought, “Is Paul telling me if I mess up an expensive sheet of leather by sewing the wrong side first, then I am supposed to be happy?” Or maybe he thought, “Am I supposed to rejoice when my working arm is injured and I am not able to work?” Paul frequently urges other believers to rejoice (Rom 12:12; 2 Cor 13:11; Phil 2:18; 3:1; 4:4). However, Paul does not imply that rejoicing depends on particular events or situations. Rejoicing is an attitude, not a response to individual circumstances.
We know that one cannot always rejoice over every event of life. Just like the life of the first-century Christian, sometimes our life is hard and all of the time life is not fair. And we are not always happy. What then is Paul saying?
Rejoice always
The Greek word for “rejoice” (chairete) was also used in greetings. For example, the phrase chaire, chairete means “Welcome, good day, I am glad to see you.” The word was used much like our English greeting of “Hello,” except the word itself had even deeper meaning. In Greek, the word of greeting is a word of joyful acknowledgment. Perhaps Paul is using this ancient form of personal greeting to teach the believers that everything must begin with joy. The reality is that everything will not end there. But what might happen if we began at the point of joy? In other words, Paul may be admonishing believers to begin with the cup half full rather than half empty. Greet the day with joy. Greet your brother with joy. Make your craft with joy. Worship and pray with joy. Of course, the day will bring sorrow; the brother will disappoint; the craft will not be perfect; and the day may bring an earthquake or storm. Nonetheless, begin everything with a positive sense of well-being and happiness. The believer can begin with the confidence that all will be well—in due time.
Pray without ceasing
The code of ethics continues for the artisan believers when Paul admonishes the believers to pray without ceasing. Paul writes about prayer in 1 Thessalonians 1:2–3; 2:13; 3:10; 5:17. Prayer is integral to Paul’s understanding of the life of the believer. Paul challenges these young believers who are artisans working daily in the shop to practice their faith while they work. While one is working with one’s hands, the very act of creating is a prayer. While one is preparing the noonday meal for the brothers, the very act of preparing food can be a prayer. Even sweeping the floors of debris from the day’s work can be a prayer. Prayer, according to Paul, is not unlike breathing. It happens to a person who is alive. The person often is unaware of the many breaths unless, of course, one is out of shape and must run to catch the bus in the morning. Then the runner notices all too easily the hardships of breathing. The believer is the same way. Prayer becomes as reflexive as breathing. In the moments of crisis, however, for those who are not in shape, the discipline of prayer takes on a new meaning.
Give thanks in all things
The third admonition to the believers is to give thanks in all things (5:18). The last injunction in the trilogy of admonitions for prayer reminds the believers that the attitude of joy and thanksgiving is the primary directive for life. Giving thanks is more than a nice social gesture expressed to the cook after the evening meal or to the person at the ticket counter. Paul Tillich describes Paul’s admonition to the believers as an invitation to a state of silent gratefulness:
In all expressions of gratitude toward others, the object of our thanks is usually visible. We know at least whom to thank, and what for, although we often do not know how to thank. But there is also gratefulness that is, so to speak, without a definite object towards which to turn. This is so not because we do not know the object, but because there is no object. We are simply grateful. Thankfulness has taken hold of us, not because something special has happened to us, but just because we are, because we participate in the glory and power of being. It is a mood of joy, but more than a mood, more than a transitory emotion. It is a state of being. And it is more than joy. It is a joy that includes the feeling that it is given, that we cannot accept it without bringing some sacrifice—namely, the sacrifice of thanks. But there is no one to whom we can bring it. And so it remains within us, a state of silent gratefulness.