There are some truths only time can tell.

Some people are like open books—their faults and virtues printed in bold for the world to see. Others carry secrets bound beneath a polished cover, waiting for the clock to turn its pages.

That’s what Paul wanted Timothy to remember.

He had just finished explaining how to rebuke and restore elders, how to show honor without favoritism, and how to guard the integrity of the church. But now, Paul tightens the lens. He writes not just as a theologian but as a father-mentor. His words in 1 Timothy 5:21–25 are weighty with wisdom, etched with grace.

“I charge thee before God, and the Lord Jesus Christ, and the elect angels…”

That’s not a casual phrase. It’s a courtroom oath. Paul places Timothy under divine witness, calling him to lead without partiality. No favorites. No fear. No hidden agendas.

And then comes the warning:

“Lay hands suddenly on no man…”

In other words, don’t rush into endorsing someone for ministry. Not every eager volunteer is ready. Not every charismatic speaker is called. Ordaining too soon is like planting before the last frost—what blooms in spring may wither by summer.

Paul isn’t calling Timothy to suspicion, but to discernment. He’s not asking him to distrust people, but to trust time.

Because time does what no interview can do.
It unmasks pretense. It reveals patterns. It shows the trajectory of a life.

“Some men’s sins are open beforehand… and some they follow after.”

You don’t always see it coming. Sometimes sin is quiet. It hides behind good intentions and winning smiles. But eventually, it catches up—on this side of heaven or the next.

And that’s not just true of sin.
It’s true of goodness, too.

“The good works of some are manifest beforehand; and they that are otherwise cannot be hid.”

Did you catch that?
Even the quiet acts—those done in shadow or simplicity—will one day rise into the light. God sees what no spotlight does. And while sin may echo in judgment, good works ring out in eternity.

But tucked in the middle of these sober instructions is a surprising verse:

“Drink no longer water, but use a little wine for thy stomach’s sake and thine often infirmities.”

It seems out of place. As if Paul suddenly changed subjects—from church discipline to digestive issues. But maybe that’s the beauty of it.

Maybe it’s Paul’s way of saying: Timothy, in all your shepherding—don’t forget to take care of yourself.

It’s a reminder that spiritual leaders are still human. We carry Scripture in one hand and stress in the other. We battle unseen warfare while quietly nursing stomach pain. And sometimes, obedience looks like rest. Like wisdom. Like taking the medicine.

Because purity isn’t just moral. It’s holistic. It’s the heart, yes—but also the habits.

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Final Thoughts

These verses are more than ancient advice to a young pastor. They’re a call to slow down. To lead with discernment. To trust that what is true—whether flawed or faithful—will one day come to light.

So take your time.
Don’t crown someone too quickly.
Don’t judge someone too soon.
And don’t forget to care for the soul that leads.

After all, God, Christ, and the angels are watching. Not to intimidate—but to remind us that leadership is sacred. That holiness is worth the wait. And that time, in the hands of God, tells the truth.