I think that, among all of the preachers of the gospel mentioned in the Bible, Timothy remains one of my favorites. This probably results from my knowledge of the circumstances which combined to make it difficult for him to achieve his goal. It has been said that you can prove by the law of aerodynamics that a bumblebee cannot fly. The size of his body, coupled with the shortness and frailty of his wings makes it impossible for him to lift his body into the air. Fortunately, the bumblebee has not studied science, and does not know what he cannot do, so he goes on and does it anyway. It must have been a little that way with Timothy and preaching.
If he had been attending the Sunrise School of Preaching in Lystra, he would undoubtedly have been voted the student least likely to succeed. Just about everything was against him. And if you are discouraged by some of your little hangups and setbacks, it might serve a good purpose for you to review a few of his handicaps.
1. Timothy was the offspring of a racially-mixed marriage. His mother was a Jewess, but his father was a Greek. We do not know what possessed Eunice to fall in love with a man of another, and a despised race. She was Orthodox, and she knew what the social penalty was for one who was married to a Gentile. I wonder what transpired at home when she informed her mother of her intention. In any event she went ahead with her plans, and we hope that when little Timothy arrived on the scene, all was forgiven.
But I would also like to know what happened when the baby approached the eighth day of his life. Eunice had been reared in the unfeigned faith of the Law. She realized that without circumcision her baby would not be recognized as one of the covenant people. Perhaps his father thought that this rite was silly and unnecessary, and he may have actually forbidden it. In any event, we know that the little lad was not circumcised.
2. So Timothy was the scion of a home which was divided over religion. And I can personally testify of the impact of such schism upon the mind of a tender child. When I first remember the home into which I was born, I recall that my father was an agnostic and my mother a devout Lutheran. Hers was a family tradition running back for several generations in Denmark. And although I was sprinkled and christened before I was a month old by the Reverend Mr. Peterson, I was still a pawn for family strife after I became old enough to realize it.
It is a tribute to the grace of God that our family eventually became united in Christ. We are not certain that the father of Timothy ever became a believer. There is a reasonable presumption that he did not. Was he a patron of one of the philosophic cults, or a worshiper of false deities? We do not know. We are certain of one thing, that an unpretended faith dwelt in the grandmother as well as the mother of Timothy.
3. Timothy was reared in a pagan environment. He was far removed from the center of Jewish influence, the temple, the priesthood, and the daily liturgy. The children with whom he played and attended school were from heathen homes. He was subjected to all of the superstitions with which the area was rife, and it was one of the worst in Asia Minor.
4. Timothy was subjected to prejudice, probably from both Jews and Greeks. Circumcision was an explosive issue, filled with opportunities for demonstration of open hostility, and this undoubtedly created a traumatic situation for a growing lad. Even when he was grown and had been converted to Christ, it was necessary for Paul to circumcise him because of the Jews who resided in that region. He would have been barred from synagogues and homes alike if this surgery had not been performed, and even then was no doubt looked at askance because it was not done on the prescribed day.
5. Timothy appears to have been emotional in his own personality. Paul wrote him that he prayed for him both night and day, and eagerly longed to see him. He stated that one reason he was so anxious to visit him was because he knew of the weeping in which Timothy engaged during their separation. Certainly this was a demonstration of tender concern, but it suggests to us that the young man found it difficult to be "a loner," and was deeply affected when absent from the man he respected so highly.
6. He was also weak and sick a good deal of the time. Although one needed a good physique and a healthy body to endure the rigors of travel by land and sea, Timothy was undoubtedly handicapped. Paul writes to advise him to "Stop drinking water, and use a little wine for the sake of your stomach, and to help your frequent illnesses."
Whatever the condition which beset Timothy, we can be certain that it was constantly recurring and chronic, and was either intensified by drinking the water at Ephesus, or induced by it. At the time, wine was recognized as one of the best medicines available to aid digestion and soothe stomach upset. This was before the days of Tums and Di-Gel. The prescription of the apostle helps us to realize the misfortune which beset the young preacher.
7. One hardly needs to read between the lines to realize that Timothy also suffered from times of depression in which he probably doubted the wisdom of continuing to pursue the work of an evangelist. At such times he allowed the gift of God to be unused and its power to erode away, while he gave way to unnatural fears and unwholesome attitudes.
It is interesting to study the psychology of Paul in snapping him out of his mood and getting him back into the service. Perhaps you will pardon me for mentioning the method employed by which to renew his spirit.
1. The apostle tells Timothy how much he meant to him. He states that he daily thanks God for making it possible for him to come to know him. Paul had much for which to thank God because both he and his forefathers had long since served God with a clear conscience, but in spite of all that had happened, it was a high spot in his life to know Timothy.
2. The faith which operated in Timothy was a rich and priceless heirloom from his mother and grandmother. They had clung to it, cherished it and nourished it, even in a pagan world. And their faith was genuine. It was real. If Timothy failed or washed out, he would break the hearts of those who loved him most. From a child they had taught and prepared him in the sacred scriptures, and he was their hope of keeping the light shining.
3. Paul reminds him of the time when he was ordained to go forth as an evangelist. One who possessed the gift of prophecy had designated Timothy as a potential candidate to further the work of evangelism. When the day came for the local presbyters to lay hands upon him and dedicate him to this holy function, the apostle also laid hands upon him and bestowed an enabling gift. Apparently there was a fervency about Timothy at this time that was beautiful to behold.
4. Paul tells him that the purpose of God's gift was not to produce craven fear in the heart. One who loses confidence and draws back from his responsibility is not pleasing God by such action, but is unfitting his life for the fulfillment of the divine purpose.
5. Timothy is again told what God provides for one who is completely committed to the divine will. He is made the recipient of inner power which will not desert him in difficult times, nor become depleted by distress. God supplies the power to perform his purpose. One need never shirk back in despondency. If he marches forward at the command of God he will open up the way as he did for Israel.
God provides love. This is the greatest deterrent to discouragement, the dynamic to devotion, and the dedication to daring. Love eliminates fear like the sun burns away the fog, or drives away the night. And he who gives us love also gives us the spirit of self-control. There is no adequate way to translate sophronismos into English. William Barclay writes that someone translated it as "the sanity of saintliness."
Certainly by this time we can all see that the letters which Paul wrote to Timothy were simply that--letters of an older preacher to a young one whom he loved, written to encourage, strengthen and fortify him for the difficult work in which he was involved. Paul was not writing "to lay down the law to Timothy," nor to lay down a law for us. He was expressing himself in love when he said, "That is why I send you this reminder to keep at white heat the gift that is in you and which came to you through the laying of my hands upon you; for God did not give us the spirit of craven fear, but of power and love and self-discipline."
I don't want you to get a false impression about Timothy, or conclude that he did not make it, or that he became a wishy-washy, muddle-headed, whining minister of mediocrity. The tremendous lesson to learn from all I have said is that, in site of his physical, sociological, cultural, natural and temperamental handicaps, he did not give up. And the apostle paid him high tribute for the victory he won.
Of course, we are liable to credit all of this to the fact that he had received a special gift through imposition of the hands of Paul, and excuse our own laziness and neglect by saying with a deep sigh, that if we had been as fortunate as young Timothy we too might have made the grade, instead of having the grade we made. Many a man lets his teeth decay while bemoaning the fact that he was not born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and any of us should know that a good set of teeth is worth more in the mouth than a good set of spoons.
But I happen to know of a man in our age who was much like Timothy. I learned his story from others in a simple rural area where I held a good many meetings. His father died when he was but a little lad, and the widowed mother was left to depend upon her own efforts and the mercy of the neighbors for survival. The boy, Tom, hired out to work for nearby farmers from the time he was old enough to drive a team of horses. And he seemed to be imbued with the idea that he wanted to become a preacher of the Word.
He read the Bible every spare minute. He memorized so much of it before he got out of the eighth grade that people thought he was developing into a religious fanatic and would "crack up." He grew into the habit of practicing public speaking while riding the cultivator and was subjected to all kinds of merriment and ridicule. When he was in a crowd someone would say, "I hired Tom to plow that ten acres down by the creek, and he can't tell the difference between a cornfield and a mission field. He held a revival up and down the rows and converted six stalks of corn and a hickory sapling. Apparently his message is corny because I could see all of the stalks bending their ears as he went by."
But Tom would not be discouraged, and finally a couple of men went over to his mother's house one night to talk with him. They told him that they came as friends but they wanted him to know that his obsession was a crazy fantasy, and he ought to give it up, and that everyone was laughing at him behind his back. He was sixteen years old at the time, but instead of giving up he asked the men if they would try and arrange for him to speak at the Sunday morning meeting.
When nothing else would prevail they agreed, and when the time came Tom made a miserable failure. He was nervous, distraught and shaky. He had to give up and sit down after about ten minutes. His subject had completely fled from his memory. The elders told him that he had now demonstrated that he did not have what it took, and asked him to give up the crazy notion. It was then that he asked his mother to move to a distant state and to a city where some of their relatives resided. This they did.
To shorten this narrative let me mention that two years before I came into the area, Tom had been called for a series of gospel meetings. His messages kindled a fire in the hearts of the hearers. The audience grew to such proportions that several hundred stood outside the house to listen. Standing on the same platform where he had made his failure he preached with such power and fervency that people were led to Christ at every service. He immersed more than a hundred persons in two weeks, including most of the grandchildren of the very ones who had advised him to give up the idea that he could preach the gospel.
Now, with your kind indulgence, I want to note with you again the apostolic charge under which the evangelist goes forth into the world to fulfill the purpose of God in his life. It is found in 2 Timothy 4:1, 2. "I charge you in the presence of God and of Jesus Christ who is to judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and his kingdom: preach the word, be urgent in season and out of season, convince, rebuke, and exhort, be unfailing in patience and in teaching."
The greatness and majesty of an action can often be judged by the nature of those in whose presence it is performed and who are called upon to witness it. Frequently the newspapers show a picture of the president of the United States signing into law a bill submitted by the Congress. Generally he is surrounded by a group of dignitaries and high officials, and their presence as witnesses adds dignity and luster to the proceedings.
The charge delivered by Paul, who was an ambassador for Christ, was pronounced in the presence of the Father and the Son, and thus we can be sure that it was given with their approval and sanction. There are three things added about Jesus which are calculated to enforce the charge and increase the solemnity attendant upon it.
1. Jesus is judge of the living and the dead. Those who accept responsibility for any phase of service must do so with the understanding that they will give an account for the manner in which they discharge the task. When Daniel Webster was asked to state the most important thought which ever occurred to him, he replied, "The most important thought I ever had was that of my individual responsibility to God."
2. Jesus is coming again. The evangelist is charged in view of his appearing. Now the word for appearing is an interesting one indeed. It is epiphaneia, and this is the word which was used when the Emperor went to visit one of the cities or provinces. It was always a tremendous event, a great holiday filled with pageantry and color. And it necessitated a lot of preparation.
Houses were painted, streets were cleaned, public buildings were decorated, and all of the citizenry attired in the finest clothing possible. The approach of the Emperor was heralded by a trumpet, and when he arrived he bestowed gifts and honors upon the deserving. It was my good fortune to be in North Ireland just before a visit of the Queen. Everything was carried on in anticipation of this great event, and a state of constant readiness was maintained. This is the way in which we should look forward to the coming of the Son of God.
A number of years ago, in Omaha, a mother had taken her little girl to hear a very famous evangelist, who spoke on that Sunday afternoon on, "The Second Coming of Christ." The mother supposed that her little child had not listened very intently, but as they were walking home, the little girl looked up at her mother, and asked, "Mother is Jesus really coming back again?" "Yes, darling," the mother replied, "he is coming." "Well, is he coming to Omaha?" "Yes, he is coming to Omaha, dear." "Mother, is he coming to our house?" The mother said, "Yes, he is coming to our house, but why do you ask that." The little girl replied, "Well, if he is going to come to our house, we'd better hurry home and get ready for him."
3. Jesus is coming in his kingdom and glory. The first time he came in the form of a slave, but when he comes again it will be as King of kings, supreme in all the universe. I must ever be conscious that the message I carry is not a common message. I am on business for my king. The word I carry is his word.
Then, what does it mean to preach? The answer is simple. The Greek word means "to proclaim as a herald." It may be difficult for us to grasp the significance of this because of our modern inventions for disseminating news. We are conditioned by the printing press, the radio and television. But before there were any of these media, the news was carried and announced by the mouths of men.
Accompanying the armies were fleet-footed runners. It was the duty of these men to carry the tidings of battle to the waiting populace. Often the people gathered on the wall and its ramparts with eyes glued to the horizon, waiting anxiously for sight of the runner with the news of the battle. The most famous of these in history was no doubt the anonymous Athenian who ran the eighteen miles from the plains of Marathon to Athens with news of the defeat of the Persian army under Darius the Great by the Athenian forces under the celebrated general Miltiades.
These runners were heralds and they were especially welcome when they brought news of victory. Their coming meant that there would be great joy in the city. It was precisely this picture Paul had in mind when he talks about the victory in Jesus which saved the lost race of mankind. "But how are men to call upon him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without a proclaimer? And how can men proclaim unless they are sent? As it is written 'How beautiful are the feet of those who herald good news.'"
Do you consider yourself a herald who has just come through the fire of conflict and been delivered from impending death? Do you feel your heart bursting with the message of deliverance, which you want to make known to those who are still wavering between hope and despair? Are you more concerned with getting through with the good news or with getting your salary on time? Is the comfort of the message of greater priority than your own physical comfort? These are questions which we must face if we are to be heralds of the king.
We are to be urgent in season and out of season. That is simply another way of saying that we must be on the job all of the time. "In season" means when everything seems just right, and "out of season" means when everything seems all wrong. Sometimes when things are stacked against us, God has done the stacking. If we are discouraged and disgruntled, and sitting on the sidelines, the work will lag at the very time that it ought to get going. John Wesley once said, "Get on fire for God, and men will come to see you burn."
Benjamin Franklin wrote in Poor Richard's Almanac these words: "The man who does things makes many mistakes, but he never makes the biggest mistake of all--doing nothing." Thomas Edison said: "When everyone else is quitting on a problem, that is the time when I begin." The preacher who moves because he cannot see anything left to do where he is, will not likely do much where he goes. The problem is not with the community but with himself. There is no excuse for a Christian to have "tired blood" as the television commercials label it, for we are operating with the blood of Christ and not with our own.
One who proclaims the word is charged with the solemn responsibility to "reprove, rebuke and exhort." The first carries the idea of conviction, and this necessitates pointing out guilt or sin so plainly and forcibly that one is judged at the bar of his own conscience, and there falls under condemnation. One cannot be faithful to his mission and let a sinner feel at ease in his sin. Nathan convicted David, Daniel convicted Belshazzar, John the Baptist convicted the Pharisees and Sadducees who made the trek out to the place where he was baptizing. More than anything else today our world needs to be brought to repentance. We stress baptism so much that we often immerse those who have not turned from their sin, and we fill the congregation with "incubator babies," who have to be pampered the rest of their lives, and who never grow up in the faith.
To rebuke is to censure and admonish. It is unfortunate that we live in an age which is permissive. When "anything goes," everything does. But we do no man good when we condone his evil. We become his worst enemy while trying to be his friend. Even Paul was forced to ask, "Am I become your enemy by telling you the truth?" No one can faithfully teach all that is found in the letters of the apostles without rebuking evil. Many of these were written for the very purpose of correcting existing ills, and human nature has not changed.
Exhortation is the encouragement to do that which one is capable of performing. Just as many a gem "of purest ray serene" lies hidden in the earth, never to gladden the heart of man, so many a talent has been undiscovered and the world is the poorer for it.
Sir Walter Scott, in his later years, used to tell how shy and backward he was when a youngster. Upon one occasion, as a mere lad, he was visiting a castle in Scotland, to which the famous poet Robert Burns came. Burns spoke kindly to the boy, and said in departing: "You will be a great man in Scotland, my lad. You have it in you to be a writer." Scott went home and cried all night for joy because of these few words of recognition.
It is possible that Alexander the Great would never have become a world conqueror at all, if it had not been for Clitus, the boyhood friend who encouraged him to press on, and who saved his life at the battle of Granicus. It is a tragic mark against the character of Alexander that he killed his friend, striking him down with the sword in a drunken rage. But I think that it is interesting that the graffiti of ancient Greece, portrayed a friend in the simple drawing of a person, across whose tunic were written the words "Summer and winter." A friend is one who encourages you "in season and out of season."
All of us are aware of how much David depended upon Jonathan, who unselfishly encouraged him to fulfill his destiny as king. And who is there present in this audience, whose own spirit has not been refreshed by reading the words which David penned? I go to Paul for exhortation and comfort as if I had personally known him all my life, or as if he and Tertius lived across the street. And if there come those moments when I wonder about my course or ability to carry on, I go to the divine medicine chest, and read the directions on the prescription as given by Paul, and I am ready to go again.
I am thoroughly convinced that the Good News about Jesus is the message our world needs to hear. I have not one doubt about its dynamic power. It has changed my life, strengthened my spirit, quelled my fears, and given me a vibrant hope for the future. It is the bread of life when I am hungry, the water of life when I am thirsty, the staff of life when I am weary, and the strength of life when I stumble. God's word is like the cool shadow of a rock in a weary land.
In the cathedral at Dijon, France, there is a great and massive pulpit chiseled from stone. Just beneath it is the figure of an angel sitting. It is beautifully and delicately carved. It is the recording angel, holding a writing tablet in one hand, and in the other a pen poised ready to write. The face of the angel is turned expectantly upward to the pulpit, waiting and ready to record what the preacher says.
I want to remember that the recording angel is always present when I speak, whether in a cathedral or a country-church building, whether in a living-room or an assembly room in a Student Union building on campus. And although I may forget the words that I speak, heaven will not. Some day I will face them again. Every word, and every secret thing, shall be brought into judgment. It is for this reason that it seems appropriate for me to close as Paul closed his first letter to Timothy.
"O Timothy, guard what has been entrusted to you. Avoid the godless chatter and contradictions of what is falsely called knowledge, for by professing it some have missed the mark as regards the faith. Grace be with you."