Suffering with Christ, Living for God's Will, and Entrusting the Soul to the Faithful Creator

πάσχω means to suffer, undergo, or experience something, especially affliction, pain, mistreatment, or costly obedience. The word is not automatically heroic and should not be romanticized. Its Christian weight comes from the way Scripture uses it around Christ and His people. Christ suffered, learned obedience through what He suffered, and entered glory through suffering.

Believers may also suffer for Him, suffer while doing good, and entrust themselves to God. In the Pastoral Epistles, Paul’s own suffering is joined to confidence: he is not ashamed because he knows the One he has believed. Suffering is interpreted through Christ, guarded by faith, and entrusted to God.

The Greek noun epithumia combines epi (upon, intensifying) with thumos (passion, impulse), giving the sense of a strong desire directed toward something. The word is not inherently negative in the Greek lexical tradition — it can describe any intense longing, including positive ones. Jesus uses it positively in Luke 22:15: 'I have earnestly desired (epithumia epithumesa) to eat this Passover with you.'

But in Paul, and especially in Galatians 5 and the broader NT moral vocabulary, epithumia often carries negative weight. The reason is not that desire itself is wrong but that the desires of the fallen human nature (sarx, flesh) are consistently oriented away from God and toward self. Galatians 5:16-17 presents the organizing conflict of the Christian life: the desires of the flesh (epithumiai tēs sarkos) fight against the Spirit, and the Spirit fights against the flesh.

These two are in fundamental opposition. The life of faith is not the elimination of desire but the transformation of its direction — away from what the flesh craves and toward what the Spirit produces. The NT's negative use of epithumia exposes a consistent diagnostic: what does the heart move toward when unguided? The flesh's desires are listed in Galatians 5:19-21 as a catalog of what emerges when the self is sovereign.

The Spirit's fruit in Galatians 5:22-23 is the counter-list of what emerges when God governs the heart. Epithumia is thus the presenting symptom of the flesh's reign — and the gospel is the announcement that this reign has been broken.

Aselgeia names unrestrained sensuality, licentiousness, debauchery, or shameless moral excess. In the New Testament it appears among sins that proceed from the heart, public patterns that belong to darkness rather than daylight, unrepented conduct that grieves apostolic care, works of the flesh, Gentile patterns believers have left behind, and a hardened surrender to impurity.

The word should not be treated as a merely private struggle or as a vague insult for people outside the church. It names desire and conduct that have thrown off the restraint of God's holy order. Pastorally, aselgeia calls for honest repentance, Spirit-led self-control, and a clear distinction between the old life and the new life in Christ.

The Greek noun epithumia combines epi (upon, intensifying) with thumos (passion, impulse), giving the sense of a strong desire directed toward something. The word is not inherently negative in the Greek lexical tradition — it can describe any intense longing, including positive ones. Jesus uses it positively in Luke 22:15: 'I have earnestly desired (epithumia epithumesa) to eat this Passover with you.'

But in Paul, and especially in Galatians 5 and the broader NT moral vocabulary, epithumia often carries negative weight. The reason is not that desire itself is wrong but that the desires of the fallen human nature (sarx, flesh) are consistently oriented away from God and toward self. Galatians 5:16-17 presents the organizing conflict of the Christian life: the desires of the flesh (epithumiai tēs sarkos) fight against the Spirit, and the Spirit fights against the flesh.

These two are in fundamental opposition. The life of faith is not the elimination of desire but the transformation of its direction — away from what the flesh craves and toward what the Spirit produces. The NT's negative use of epithumia exposes a consistent diagnostic: what does the heart move toward when unguided? The flesh's desires are listed in Galatians 5:19-21 as a catalog of what emerges when the self is sovereign.

The Spirit's fruit in Galatians 5:22-23 is the counter-list of what emerges when God governs the heart. Epithumia is thus the presenting symptom of the flesh's reign — and the gospel is the announcement that this reign has been broken.

βλασφημέω (blasphēméō) is a New Testament verb for to blaspheme; to revile; to speak against. In pastoral use, the word belongs to reverent speech, slander, public accusation, and holy honor. Matthew 9:3, Matthew 26:65, Matthew 27:39 gives the first selected witnesses, with additional passages showing the word in other NT settings. The word is not a shortcut around exegesis, but it gives teachers a concrete doorway into how blasphemy language warns against speech that dishonors God, reviles what is holy, or slanders falsely.

Its value is strongest when the verse remains in view: speaker, audience, grammar, and argument decide how much weight the word should bear. This companion therefore treats G987 as a servant of Scripture's own logic. It helps readers name the concept clearly, trace representative witnesses, and avoid using a Strong's number as if it could replace the passage.

Do not use blasphemy language to silence legitimate correction; the passage must define the offense.

κρίνω in the NT does not mean one thing — it is a word whose meaning is determined by who is doing the judging, at what moment, and on what basis. John 3:17-18 uses κρίνω three times in two verses and manages three different senses: God did not send the Son to condemn the world (v. 17), but whoever does not believe is condemned already (v. 18a), because they have not believed (v.

18B). The absence of condemnation-intent does not produce the absence of a verdict — rejection of the light is itself the judgment. John 5:22-30 goes further: the Father has given all judgment to the Son, who judges justly because He seeks not His own will but the Father's. The eschatological weight of κρίνω — the final separation, the last verdict — is present throughout without displacing the present-tense judgment that belief and unbelief constitute now.

Matt 7:1 ('Judge not, that you be not judged') does not abolish κρίνω; Paul in 1 Cor 5:12-13 uses the same verb to instruct the church to judge insiders while leaving outsiders to God. The two uses are not contradictory: the prohibition is on the presumptuous claim to make final verdicts about others; the instruction is on the community's responsibility to exercise discernment about conduct within its own walls.

Τέλος is a theologically layered New Testament word because it can hold together ideas English often splits apart: end, goal, completion, and outcome. In ordinary Greek usage, τέλος could name the finishing point of a race, the goal toward which athletes strained, the completion of a task, and the outcome of a decision. The NT can draw on those resonances in redemptive-historical contexts.

The most exegetically contested use is Romans 10:4: 'For Christ is the τέλος of the law, to bring righteousness to everyone who believes.' Whether Paul means Christ is the law's termination, its goal, its fulfillment, or some combination of those ideas depends on the full argument of Romans and cannot be resolved by word study alone. The word can support more than one of those readings, so Romans itself must govern the conclusion.

Beyond that contested verse, τέλος marks the end of the age (1 Corinthians 10:11), the sustaining of believers through to the final day (1 Corinthians 1:8), the outcome of moral choices (Romans 6:21-22), and the character of Christ Himself as Alpha and Omega, Beginning and End (Revelation 21:6; 22:13). This usage is theologically weighty: when God names Himself as the τέλος, Revelation is not merely describing how things conclude. It is identifying the One who determines every conclusion. In Revelation's own grammar, the end is bound to the person and rule of God. That reframes what the NT says about endurance, outcomes, and the completion of faith. Perseverance to the τέλος (Matthew 10:22; Hebrews 3:14) is not mere grit. It is orientation toward the Lord who brings His people to the promised end.

ἀγάπη means love, but in the New Testament it must be governed by God's own action rather than by modern sentiment. The word can describe human love, Christian love, and God's love, but its center of gravity is revealed in God giving His Son for sinners and in Christ forming a people who love one another. In the Pastoral Epistles, love is not detached affection.

The goal of instruction is love from a pure heart, a clear conscience, and sincere faith. God does not give His servants a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and self-control. Timothy must hold sound teaching with faith and love in Christ Jesus. He must flee youthful passions and pursue love with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart. Older men must be sound in love.

These uses show that ἀγάπη belongs with doctrine, conscience, faith, self-control, holiness, and endurance. It is not soft religious warmth. It is the gospel-shaped posture that seeks another's good under God's truth. The wider canon anchors this love in God Himself: God proves His love in Christ's death for sinners, love rejoices in truth, and anyone who claims to love God while hating a brother lies.

ἀγάπη therefore guards the church from loveless orthodoxy and truthless sentiment at the same time. Within church life, that means the teacher asks what kind of people instruction is forming, not merely whether arguments are being won. Love guards truth from becoming proud, and truth guards love from becoming indulgent. Because God's love moves toward sinners in Christ, the church's love moves toward people with patience, clarity, holiness, and hope.

χάρισμα is a word the NT borrows from the language of grace (charis) and gives a specific shape: a concrete, particular manifestation of God's grace given to a person for the benefit of the community. The word is related to charis (grace, G5485) — a charisma is a charism, a grace-gift, something that comes entirely from God's generosity and carries no basis in the receiver's merit.

In Romans 5:15-16, Paul uses charisma for the gift of righteousness in Christ — the most fundamental grace-gift, the one that grounds all others. This establishes that charisma is not first a category for extraordinary abilities but for the whole gift of God's grace made concrete in the life of a person. The charismata that appear in Romans 12 and 1 Corinthians 12 are particular expressions of this broader gift-orientation.

First Corinthians 12 is the primary passage for charismata as spiritual gifts: 'There are various kinds of gifts (charismata), but the same Spirit. There are various kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are various kinds of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone.' Paul immediately pluralizes the source as well: charismata come from the Spirit, service from the Lord, activities from the Father. The gifts are Trinitarian in their ground. The purpose is given in verse 7: 'to each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.' The gift is not for the individual's benefit or status but for the building of the community.

For the preacher, χάρισμα corrects two common distortions: the individualism that treats gifts as personal spiritual properties to be enjoyed, and the institutionalism that reduces gifts to the functions that fit the church's organizational chart. Gifts are given to specific people by the Spirit, for the specific community in which they are placed, for the community's good.

Κοινωνέω means to share, participate, contribute, or enter into fellowship with something. Paul's uses show that participation carries responsibility in both good and evil. First Timothy 5 warns against hasty recognition of leaders lest one share in another person's sins. Galatians 6 calls those taught in the word to share good things with their teacher. Philippians 4 remembers a church that partnered with Paul in giving and receiving during the early advance of the gospel.

The verb does not describe vague friendliness. Sharing can create complicity, sustain faithful ministry, and express durable gospel partnership. Wisdom therefore asks what is shared, with whom, and toward what end. Christian generosity is active, while Christian purity refuses participation in wrongdoing.

δόξα means glory, honor, splendor, or radiance, and in the Pastoral Epistles it gathers the weight of gospel truth, worship, Christ's vindication, eternal salvation, final rescue, and the appearing of Jesus Christ. The word does not function as vague religious brightness. In 1 Timothy, the gospel entrusted to Paul agrees with the glorious gospel of the blessed God, and the King eternal receives honor and glory forever.

In the confession of godliness, Christ is taken up in glory. In 2 Timothy, Paul endures so that the elect may obtain salvation in Christ Jesus with eternal glory, and he closes his confidence in rescue with a doxology: to the Lord be glory forever. Titus places believers in hope as they await the blessed hope and glorious appearance of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ.

The word therefore links the message, the God who is worshiped, the Christ who is vindicated and appears, and the future inheritance of the saved. Pastoral teaching should keep that movement intact. δόξα is not human impressiveness. It is the radiance and honor of God revealed in the gospel, centered in Christ, received in hope, and returned to God in worship.

Paratithēmi means to set before, place beside, entrust, or commit something or someone to another's care. Paul entrusts a charge to Timothy in keeping with prior prophecies. Timothy must entrust received teaching to faithful people able to teach others. Jesus says much will be required from the one to whom much has been entrusted. Peter tells sufferers who follow God's will to entrust their lives to a faithful Creator while doing good.

The verb can describe delegated responsibility or personal committal, but entrusting never transfers ultimate ownership or excuses unaccountable control. The recipient becomes a steward answerable to the giver and the content of the trust.