Thoughts on I Timothy

“Let no one despise you for your youth.” I’ve been hearing 1 Timothy 4:12a quoted a lot recently, and it’s occurred to me that there are two ways that people have interpreted this verse, one I’d argue being obviously incorrect.

First, let’s put all arguments aside concerning just how old Timothy was. Although important to any study of his life, it’s basically irrelevant to my point here. We know that Paul met a disciple, not a child, well-known to Christians in Lystra and Iconium (Acts 16:1-3) and some years later, wrote to him while, according to church tradition, he was serving as the bishop (i.e., pastor or elder) in Ephesus (cf. 1 Tim. 1:3, 2 Tim. 1:18). It’s probably safe to assume he was at least thirty. At any rate, we can trust that he was suitably trained for the position, even if some members of his congregation thought he was still wet behind the ears.

So, what concerns me about the way some Christians use this passage? Recently, I discovered that some treat it as a command directed to laymembers: “Do not despise a male for his youth,” or something along those lines. The verse becomes a prooftext against anyone questioning someone’s ability to take on a particular job in the church. If you dare say someone is too young, immature, or untrained, apparently this verse should shatter all doubts. Any resistance then becomes blatant disobedience to a biblical command.

But notice that this direction was addressed to Timothy, not the church in Ephesus. It’s found in a pastoral epistle, not a general one. It’s for training church leaders specifically, not the congregation as a whole. Paul instructs Timothy to set an example for the congregation and continue to teach sound doctrine (1 Tim. 4:11-16). By being a proper leader, Timothy would not give anyone cause to despise him. The burden was entirely on him. If he failed, I seriously doubt that Paul would’ve criticized the Ephesians for questioning Timothy’s suitability for his position.

Criticism related to someone’s youth, lack of maturity, lack of experience, or lack of education isn’t necessarily borne out of age discrimination. It’s an explanation offered when a person in a given position appears to have failed. When those criticisms arise, it’s not the congregation’s job to stifle it. It’s the responsibility of the church leader to prove otherwise.

Review: Apricot Brown is ‘Miss Undefinable’

Apricot Brown Digital Press Kit

Picked up an interesting book at this year’s Mixed Roots Film & Literary Festival. Apricot Brown: Miss Undefinable is first in a series authored by Dana Drucker-Solano and illustrated by Sky Hand Zan. Apricot Brown is a cute, wacky superstar who encourages other mixed kids at Hope Fisher High School to resist the pressure to conform to social expectations. Together, the “Remix Generation” rejects the notion that kids have to choose and stick with one identity, instead advocating adopting from many and changing them at will. The reader is introduced to three of Apricot Brown’s alternate personalities – the Latina “Chica Bonita,” the Japanese “Bo’Bey Girl,” and the Jamaican “Rasta Fairy” – scheduled to appear in upcoming stories.

Apricot Brown targets today’s pre-adolescent girls with simple rhyming lyrics (or poetry, if you will) that sound to my culturally illiterate ears like hip-hop (incidentally, itself a hodge-podge of musical styles). The colorful art resembles that of computer animation in a glossy graphic novel. The book is highly attractive, but I remain unimpressed with the content (in contrast to my little brother who found the content slightly impressive but the book not attractive at all – and insisted on mentioning this).

The central message is one of self-improvement through esteem-boosting, feel-good messages (i.e., self-religion). It’s about recreating and adopting cultural identity, itself a social construct, while simultaneously denying society’s cultural definitions and classifications. In other words, it seems a bit confused. I’m all for redefining yourself, adopting from other cultures, and embracing a fluid identity. However, Apricot Brown seems to live in a pretend land where, as an outsider, she’s welcomed as a fully-fledged member into any culture. That might work for fiction, but as a book aiming to improve its readers, it seems to create – outright encourage – a false impression that kids can and should claim any cultural identity they want. What’s ironic is that Apricot Brown’s alter-egos adopt the hyper-stratified Hispanic culture, the hyper-homogeneous Japanese culture, and the supremacist and ethnocentric Rastafari culture.

Even more problematic is the sheep mentality of the kids in Apricot Brown. While the “Miss Unidentifiable” challenges those who impose cultural boundaries, those around her just follow suit. In other words, the book’s message could backfire, essentially telling readers that it’s cooler to be a part of the “Remix Generation” than to just be yourself.

Book two is in the works, so we haven’t seen the last of Apricot Brown. She’ll continue to find fun ways to encourage kids to think outside the box when it comes to identity. I just hope she quits with some of the self-love mumbo-jumbo. I’m not convinced that that’s the healthiest way for mixed kids to learn to accept themselves.