Sermon Text: 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18
Date: August 4, 2024
Event: Proper 13, Year B
2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18 (EHV)
You see, I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come. 7I have fought the good fight; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith. 8From now on, there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness. The Lord, the righteous Judge, will give it to me on that day, and not only to me but also to everyone who loved his appearing.
16At my first hearing, no one came to my defense, but everyone deserted me. May it not be counted against them. 17But the Lord stood by me and strengthened me, so that through me the message would be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles would hear it, and I was rescued from the lion’s mouth. 18The Lord will rescue me from every evil work and will bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.
The Lord Will Rescue Me
We refer to many of Paul’s letters in the New Testament as “prison letters,” but most were written in circumstances different from those we might think of as a prison. Instead, most of them were written while he was under house arrest in Rome while he waited to appeal charges from the leaders in Jerusalem to the emperor, to Caesar. It is in this state that the book of Acts concludes. Luke describes Paul’s conditions this way: When we entered Rome, Paul was allowed to live by himself with a soldier who guarded him…. For two whole years Paul stayed in his own rented house and welcomed all who came to visit him. He was preaching the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without anyone stopping him” (Acts 28:16, 30-31). Prison? Sort of. In chains? Probably metaphorically. But he was able to preach the gospel. If tradition is accurate, he would eventually be freed from this state and be able to continue his role as an apostle to the Gentiles for almost another decade.
While Paul was out presumably preaching around Europe, a devastating fire broke out in Rome in July of 64 ad. Rumors raged that then-emporer Nero had started the fire himself to gobble up land in Rome for his whims, to recreate the city in his design. True or not, Nero had to separate himself from that line of thinking, which meant someone else needed to take the fall. The contemporary historian Tacitus said that Nero pinned the blame “on a class hated for their abominations,” a group that had come to be known as “Christians,” This group had, for reasons that were utterly incomprehensible to the broader Roman public, attached themselves to a criminal who had been executed by “the extreme penalty” decades before. This man was known to the Romans by the name “Christus.” The religion these followers of Christus practiced was described as a “mischievous superstition”—a superstition that had started in the Roman province of Judea and was now thriving to a certain extent even in Rome (Annals, Book 15, Section 44).
A persecution of Christians on a massive scale oozed from Nero’s false accusations. This persecution was so brutal and, to most people, seemed so unfair and unjust that even criminals rightly on death row felt compassion and sorrow for them—perhaps not unlike the thief crucified next to Jesus thirty-some years earlier.
History and tradition tell us that this persecution swept up not only large amounts of Christians but also some very notable leaders in the church, not the least of which were the apostles Peter and Paul. This occurred years after the history recorded in the book of Acts concluded. Paul was again arrested, but there was no house arrest this time. Records indicate that Paul was held in Rome in the Mamertine Prison (as it would later be known).
This prison was as bleak of a setting as one could imagine. Here, Rome held those who were threats to the state as they awaited trial or sentencing. The unfortunate prisoners were thrown into the lower, older cell, twelve feet underground and nearly devoid of light. This place served not only as a temporary holding cell but also as a place to carry out executions. Here, a prisoner might be as likely to starve to death as they would be to survive until their trial. Writing about forty years before Jesus was born, the Roman historian Sallust described this cell this way, “Neglect, darkness, and stench make it hideous and fearsome to behold” (The War with Catiline, ch. 55).
You did not come here this morning for a history lecture, but understanding the context around God’s Word is vital for understanding what God was communicating through his inspired authors. Paul writes 2 Timothy from that horrendous hole of a prison as a result of the imperial persecution of Christians sparked by blame for that fire. So when he says, “You see, I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come,” he’s not being melodramatic. He can probably feel his life draining out of him in that dark, disgusting cell, and he knows, one way or another, his departure from this world has arrived. 2 Timothy is the last piece of writing from Paul we have preserved for us, and perhaps his last overall.
So it’s in this context that Paul pens these words to pastor Timothy. As Peter did in his second letter, Paul is very clearly passing the baton of the gospel to the next generation. But he knows that persecutions will continue and sticking to the faith he has preached will be difficult. After all, Paul saw Jesus on the road to Damascus; Timothy probably had not seen Jesus with his physical eyes. So, even one generation removed from the apostles, Christians were in a not-so-different situation as you and I are today, trusting in what God has said in his Word rather than trusting what we’ve seen with our eyes.
So, on the brink of death, imprisoned in this dank pit, likely physically chained, what is Paul’s perspective? What does he want our perspective to be?
Paul declares with all certainty: I have fought the good fight; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith. From now on, there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness. The Lord, the righteous Judge, will give it to me on that day, and not only to me but also to everyone who loved his appearing.
Paul knows what is going to happen. Years earlier, he had written to the Christians in Philippi, “Yes, for me to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21). Now, staring death in the face, he has no change of heart or mind. He knows that he is unlikely to survive this situation and that still, to die is gain. He clings to Jesus as his Savior; thus, he knows he has a crown of righteousness waiting for him that God himself will give him, a crown signifying this right relationship with God that is not only for Paul because of his work as an apostle, but to all who cling to Jesus as the certainty of their forgiveness, to all “who loved his appearing.”
If we think back a bit further in history to our Gospel for this morning, we will remember that very windy night on the Sea of Galilee and Jesus strolling on the water's surface out to the disciples’ boat. They saw Jesus there and were terrified! Was this a ghost or some other apparition coming to get them? Jesus’ words put their hearts at rest, “Take courage! It is I. Do not be afraid” (Mark 6:50). “It is I” is literally just the two words, “I am.” It seems like here Jesus is referencing the name he provided to Moses at the burning bush almost 1500 years earlier, “I am who I am” (Exodus 3:14). What’s the implication? The one walking on the water is not just a man but God himself.
Paul had that kind of certainty. Jesus was by his side, even in these horrendous circumstances. No matter how bad things got for Paul physically, he knew that he was safe eternally because the great I am was with him. Paul would not have to reckon with his sins before God because Jesus had already paid for them. All of his wrestling with being the “worst sinner” (1 Timothy 1:16) or hemming and hawing over not doing the good he wanted to do (Romans 7:15ff) does not dissuade him from the fact that Jesus had rescued him, that God was waiting to give Paul that crown of righteousness that was bought with Jesus’ blood.
Thanks be to God that you are not languishing in a wretched prison at this moment. Nor are you struggling to progress against a mighty wind storm in a boat. Nor are you feeling hopelessly outnumbered in a fight like Elisha’s servant was. But that doesn’t mean that you are not dealing with problems, and that does not mean that your concerns are insignificant. Nor are God’s promises to you any less certain or smaller than those God made to Paul. Your confidence can be the same as his: The Lord will rescue me from every evil work and will bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom.
But can you see it? Can you feel it? Or is so much in front of you blurred and dark? Does it feel like you’re sitting in that grimy pit of a prison in Rome? Do you feel helpless and afraid as the winds of problems batter you, or feel outnumbered by too many enemies to deal with?
How slow we are to believe God’s promises! How quick we are to think that, for some reason, we are the only person to experience a problem that is too big for God or that we are the one person in the history of humanity to whom God’s promises do not apply.
So, what evil work do you need to be rescued from? Do doubts about God rise in your hearts? God, who gave you your faith, is greater than your doubts. Do fears over an illness or a loved one’s illness grip you? God, the great physician of both body and soul, is greater than any sickness or pain. Do pains of heartache and disappointment claw at you day and night? God is greater than that heartache and has assured you that whatever he allows to happen to you, he will work for your good—now and forever. Whatever the evil work that is plaguing you is, God is greater than it. “The Lord will rescue me from every evil work and will bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom.”
My brothers and sisters, you have a crown of righteousness waiting for you. On the other side of this life’s problems, there will be perfection, eternally. This is the ultimate gift God has given you, the ultimate victory he has won for you. This is the basis of every confidence you have in this life: his love and power for you endure well past this life.
But until that day, God is still by your side, walking up to you on the rough waters, standing guard over you in all danger, and even sitting beside you in your greatest griefs. We don’t always know how the Lord will rescue us, but we do know that he will. His rescue may not look like we want it to look, feel how we want it to feel, or be when we want it to happen, but there is no doubt that it will happen. No matter the evil work that plagues you, your God holds you close and says, “My daughter, my son, do not fear. I am and always will be. I am your Redeemer, now and always. I am your Provider, now and always. I am your Protector, now and always.”
The Lord will rescue me from every evil work and will bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.
