A Word for Pastors in Every Generation

If you have a Bible—and I hope you do—I invite you to turn to 2 Timothy and to chapter 4.

“I charge you,” writes Paul, “in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and his kingdom: preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching. For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths. … As for you, always be sober-minded, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry.

“For I[’m] already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing.

“Do your best to come to me soon. For Demas, in love with this present world, has deserted me and gone to Thessalonica. Crescens has gone to Galatia, Titus to Dalmatia. Luke alone is with me. Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is very useful to me for ministry. Tychicus I have sent to Ephesus. When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, also the books, and above all the parchments. Alexander the coppersmith did me great harm; the Lord will repay him according to his deeds. Beware of him yourself, for he strongly opposed our message. At my first defense no one came to stand by me, but all deserted me. May it not be charged against them! But the Lord stood by me and strengthened me, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. So I was rescued from the lion’s mouth. The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed and bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

“Greet Prisca and Aquila, and the household of Onesiphorus. Erastus remained at Corinth, and I left Trophimus, who was ill, at Miletus. Do your best to come before winter. Eubulus sends greetings to you, as do Pudens and Linus and Claudia and all the brothers.

“The Lord be with your spirit. Grace be with you.”

This is the Word of the Lord. (There we go—a few Anglicans in the house. That’s always good.)

Well, just a brief prayer—an old Anglican prayer:

Father, what we know not, teach us; what we have not, give us; what we are not, make us. For your Son’s sake. Amen.

Well, the context of the time in which Paul is now writing to Timothy is well-recorded for us. It could be identified by a number of features, but two in particular I want simply to acknowledge. And that is that he was about to leave and pass the baton into the hands of Timothy in an environment of, you might almost say, complete confusion—confusion on two fronts: moral confusion and doctrinal confusion. People were unstable in terms of what it was they believed, and therefore, they were unclear about how it was that they were supposed to behave.

And in writing this particular letter—which, as you know, is his swan song—he does not involve himself in a lot of other areas that he could have identified as being of significance, but, as you would imagine if you were to write just a final letter to a member of your family and you wanted to bring home to them the urgency of circumstances, then that is exactly what he’s doing.

“Well,” you say, “that was a long time ago, two thousand years ago—moral and doctrinal confusion. Surely we don’t know anything about that, do we?” And yet the twenty-first-century church is riddled with relativism, with doubt, and with uncertainty. John Stott, writing before he died said, “Even the church seems [to be] as blushingly [uncertain of itself] as an adolescent [child].”[1] The problem when you have confusion in the pulpit is you have chaos in the pews. And as a result of the trumpet giving an uncertain sound,[2] people are not sure about the nature of the battle and whether they should actually be involved in the battle.

But, of course, this is nothing new. J. C. Ryle, the first bishop of Liverpool, writing in the nineteenth century, at the end of the nineteenth century, he says, “[The] vast quantity of modern preaching is so foggy, and hazy, and dim, and indistinct, and hesitating, and timid, and cautious, and fenced with doubts, … the preacher does not seem to know what he believes himself.”[3] What a statement! I mean, that is at the same time as Spurgeon was around. That’s the same time that General Booth was there in the establishing of the Salvation Army. It is a salutary comment, and I don’t think that Ryle had had a bad pizza the night before. I don’t think he was suffering from gout or something. He was simply recognizing it. And people said to him, “What will happen when you die and when all the others die?” “Oh,” said Ryle, “don’t worry about that. For God has yet more stars in his firmament than we have seen.”[4] And the church of Jesus Christ continues. Of course it does.

You see, the departure of Paul was significant. It was significant because of the role that he had played, and also, the church was about to move from being an apostolic church to being a postapostolic church. And I think it’s Donald Guthrie who says in his introduction to the New Testament, “Humanly speaking, the Church was trembling on the brink of annihilation.”[5] There was no notion as to whether it would make it into a subsequent generation. And so this letter was crucial then, and it’s absolutely crucial now that the gospel, the things that he is writing about, are not only held dear, but they’re also passed on.

Now, the first five verses of the chapter that I’ve read really encapsulate Paul’s concern for that—for the ongoing ministry of the gospel. He has in the course of the letter already called Timothy to “continue” in these things, back in chapter 3. Where is it? I’m just looking for it myself now. The people are being deceived. They’re “deceiving” and they’re “being deceived. But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it and how from childhood you[’ve] been acquainted with the sacred writings, which are able to make you wise for salvation.”[6] In other words, he says, “You know this because you learned this, and we know your background.” That’s how he began his letter: a godly mother and a godly grandmother.[7] And how many of us have occasion to be thankful for the same! And so, reminding him to continue, he then, at the end of chapter 3, is reminding him, too, that the Scriptures—the Holy Scriptures—are divinely inspired, that they’re completely reliable, and that they are completely sufficient.[8]

Paul’s Charge

And it is then in light of that that he gives this charge. He assigns him, if you like, his duty: “This is your responsibility now. I charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus.” I want you just to notice a couple of things about this charge.

First of all, it is a solemn charge. It is issued “in the presence of God”—the Father—“and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead.” Remember, in John chapter 5, Jesus is identifying for the Pharisees, for the religious leaders, the fact that he is actually God. And he says to them, “The Father has appointed me with the responsibility of executing judgment.”[9]

And this, you see, is the great issue for Timothy as a young pastor. And this is the great issue for every pastor in every generation. Timothy is not ultimately accountable to the congregation in Ephesus, nor is he actually accountable to Paul himself, although he is his mentor. He’s accountable to the Lord Jesus. And that’s what he’s saying. Earlier, when he writes to the Corinthians, he says, “We’re all going to appear before the judgment seat of Christ.”[10] And so here he says to him, “If you’re going to take this on, Timothy, as a leader in the church, you’re going to be keeping watch over the souls under your care, and you will have to give an account.”

Now, just a word to those pastors, maybe younger pastors, who are tyrannized by certain people in the congregation. Maybe they come to you and give you all kinds of advice that you really don’t want and correction that you may not even require, and you find yourself saying, “I’m not sure just how to approach this.” Well, this is what you need to say to your congregation, to your people: “I will be your servant, but you will never be my master.” “I will be your servant, but you will never be my master.” You couldn’t pay me enough to preach. You couldn’t pay me too little to preach. I don’t preach as a job. That’s the role that is entrusted to him: “Timothy, I am charging you with this. It is a solemn charge. I’m charging you by the Father, in the presence of Jesus, by his appearance and his kingdom.” By his resurrection, he says, Jesus has established his kingdom. Paul had become a servant of the kingdom. One day that kingdom will be established finally and visibly and universally, and in the meantime, the kingdom is being extended by the proclamation of the gospel, by the taking of the message of the gospel to the ends of the earth.

Now, because it is a solemn charge, it is—in the words of the Anglican ceremony of marriage—it is not to be entered upon lightly or carelessly but thoughtfully, with reverence for God, with due consideration of the purposes for which it was established by God. That is the marriage ceremony. That’s why when we get into that, we get into that. And nobody asks us how we’re feeling when we get married. They ask us what we’re going to be doing when we get married.

And they come to me, and they say, “My wife is this, and she did that and this.”

I said, “Oh, so you’re saying that things are worse, are you?”

“Yes, it’s worse.”

I said, “Well, good. ’Cause you signed up for worse. That was part of the deal: for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer.”

If it’s true in marriage, it’s true in biblical proclamation of the gospel. It’s solemn! It’s solemn!

You remember that scene, the gravedigger scene in Hamlet, where Hamlet… It’s actually a tragic scene, because they’re digging the grave of Ophelia. He doesn’t know that yet. But he comes on the scene, and the gravediggers are singing and basically messing around. And he says to Horatio, “Has this fellow no understanding of what he’s doing, that he sings at grave making?”[11] And if you went to a good school, then you know that Horatio replies, “Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.”[12] See what he’s saying? He’s so used to doing this that he’s quit taking it seriously. He’s so used to preaching that he’s forgotten how solemn the charge that he’s received. It’s solemn.

Regular, systematic exposition of the Bible is the foundation of a biblical ministry. Nothing can take its place.

It’s, secondly, straightforward. Straightforward. What is it? “Preach the word.” “Preach the word.” All that Paul has already written concerning “the pattern of … sound words” in the beginning, “the good deposit” that has been entrusted to him to be guarded[13]—all of that underpins this. And Paul is talking about teaching the Old Testament Scriptures along with the teaching of the apostles. The New English Bible translates it, “Press [the message] home on all occasions, convenient or inconvenient.”[14]

Well, this is straightforward for some of us and a challenge for others. Regular, systematic exposition of the Bible is the foundation of a biblical ministry. Nothing can take its place—no amount of singing. Because, remember, what we have to say to God is not as significant as what God has said to us. That’s why the prophet who’s going to stand among the people is to stand and declare the Word of God. The staple diet of a congregation that is going to make it through this twenty-first-century experience is going to have to be grounded in the Scriptures.

Donald Coggan, who was the archbishop of Canterbury when I was still in my teens, has written a couple of books on preaching. And in one he says the preaching needs to be candid (no concealment of the truth), clear (no obscurity of expression), and confident (no fear of the consequences), and continuous (no excuse for laziness); “in season,” when the receptivity is good, or when it is hostility; when the prospect fills you with dread or with delight; when you go to your bed on a Saturday night, and you say, “Oh, goodness gracious! Lord, help me. Here we go again.” It feels like it goes Monday, Sunday, Monday, Sunday, Monday, Sunday—“Here we go again!” And you’ve got your wife there to say, “Oh, come on, hon. You’ll be okay. The Lord was good last week. He’ll be good again this week.” Sometimes it fills you with a delight. Sometimes it fills you with dread. You’ve got to do it when people are tuned in, and you’ve got to do it when people are tuned out. You’ve got to do it when the crowds are growing and when the crowds are dwindling. You’ve got to do it!

I remember years ago, in Scotland, being taken by an older man to an event in a Presbyterian church in Dalkeith. And I said, “What are we going to?” He said, “Well, it’s a thing for ladies. It’s called a daffodil tea.” “Oh,” I said. “That’s intriguing.” I had no interest in it by name. And when I got there, it was just as he’d described. There was daffodils everywhere and ladies everywhere—just a church full of ladies. So, I thought, “Well, I’ll watch and see what he does.” But he didn’t tell me that he wanted me to actually say something to this group. And so I stood up, and I said, “I’ve never spoken at a daffodil tea before.” And a man’s voice—it turned out it was the pastor of the church—was in the back row. I couldn’t see him for all the women and daffodils. He was a little man. And I said, “I’ve never spoken at a daffodil tea before.” And he shouted out, “Take your chance while you’ve got it, sonny!”

Now, there is a sense in which that is exactly what Paul is saying here to Timothy: “Take your chance while you’ve got it, Timothy—whether you feel like it or whether you don’t. Reprove, rebuke, exhort, correct.” In other words, it involves argument—that there is an intelligent dimension to it, isn’t it? That by means of argument, that we convince; that there is a moral aspect to it, calling us first of all to account; an emotional aspect so that we could encourage.

“And,” he says, “do this with complete patience and careful instruction.” In other words, you’ll never do this effectively unless you’re a student of the Bible. We will never do it effectively unless we learn to study on our knees, literally or metaphorically.

It is a charge that is solemn, it is a charge that is straightforward, and it is a charge that is strategic, in the light of the challenge that he’s going to identify for him in verses 3 and 4. Paul had already informed Timothy of the desertion of the folks in Asia. Back in chapter 1, “You[’re] aware,” he said, “that all who are in Asia [have] turned away from me, among whom are Phygelus and Hermogenes.”[15] And now he says, “Timothy, you better be ready to accept and expect a similar reaction. Because,” he says, “you will discover that as we live in these last days—beginning with the appearing of Jesus and ending with his return—as we live, we will discover that people time and time again will not endure sound teaching. They will reject sound teaching.”

In other words, they will reject the kind of teaching that will make them healthy and make them useful. They will instead turn or tune their ears, as it were, to an accumulation of teachers who will teach them in a manner that removes them as listeners from the responsibility of seeing their lives brought into line with truth.

No different from the people in Isaiah’s day, right? What did they say to him? “[Isaiah,] do not prophesy to us what is right; speak to us smooth things, prophesy illusions.”[16] What’s that band? “Tell me lies, tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies.”[17] That’s what they’re saying. ’Cause that’s much easier to handle. Let’s just contextualize it for a moment: “Tell me lies about the nature of marriage. Tell me lies about the nature of gender. Tell me lies about the reality of judgment. Tell me lies about the exclusivity of Jesus. Just tell me lies.”

“Timothy, what I’m telling you is strategic. Because people will turn their backs on biblical revelation, and they will turn to human speculation.” And there’s no surprise in this, is there? Because, you see, the Bible’s analysis of the human condition is so clear. When those men… And I love this food thing that was going on tonight—it made me hungry just looking at it—but the food and getting it to people with the food that is necessary to deal with poverty. But talking with one of the representatives earlier in the afternoon, we were acknowledging together that the eradication of poverty in terms of physical food is only a means to being able to see the eradication of the real poverty.

Because if you think, for example, the man who is brought by his friends to Jesus: He can’t walk. He’s on a bed, and they let him down. We know the story. We’ve known it since Sunday school. Most of the time in Sunday school, it was a guilt trip—at least the teachers who told me the stuff like “Well, when was the last time you had invited a friend to Sunday school?” you know, or “When was the last time you did something like that? Have you ever carried your friend to church? Come on! What are you doing?” I’m like, “Surely that’s not the message of this!” And it wasn’t the message. But anyway, what is the message?

Well, the message is right there. They’re doing their level best to get this man dealt with, and Jesus looks at him, and he says, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”[18] Man, talk about an anticlimax! After you have done that? You went, you got the guy out of his house, you put him on a bed, you carried him all the way there, you bust the room open, you dropped him down through the roof, and Jesus says, “Your sins are forgiven.” Why did Jesus say that? Because he was putting his finger on that man and every man and every woman’s deepest need: the need of forgiveness.

He wasn’t disinterested in the man’s legs. He dealt with them. God is interested in our marriages. He is interested in the journey of our lives. But the message of the gospel is a message which it is no surprise that people turn from. Because the diagnosis that the Bible gives of humanity is that we’re sinful, that we’re guilty, that we’re lost, that we’re responsible, and that we are completely unable to fix ourselves.

“Oh, don’t tell me that. That’s an insult to my intelligence. You’re telling me that for a moment?”

“I’m sorry! I’m not telling you. I’m just saying I found it in this book.”

“It’s an insult to me, to my intelligence, and also to my ability to do things. Don’t you know who I am? Don’t you know what I’ve done?”

“The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to [those] who are … saved it is the power of God.”[19] The Bible’s assessment is clear. And Timothy is being called to take a stand, to swim against the current. And I say the message is peculiarly timely.

Now, let me say a word to those of you who are sitting there saying, “Oh, goodness gracious! It’s all about preaching again. The fellow’s only got one string to his bow, as if he’s trying to secure his own job security or something.” No, no, no, no, no. Let’s acknowledge that there’s a reason that people don’t like preaching: not because of the content but because of the delivery. There’s a tremendous amount of bad preaching—bad preaching, unprepared-for preaching, un–Spirit-filled preaching, like somebody just going, like, “Look at that, look at that, look at that, and look at that. And thank you; that’ll be great.”

Listen: The primary responsibility of the Bible teacher is not to give a few pointers out of the passage with three points of application to write in your notebook and go away and try them. No! The primary responsibility in preaching is to have a direct encounter with the living God through the Word of God, whatever you do with your notes. All right? And it’s only God who can do that. We can do what we do.

Listen to Spurgeon in his day to his students:

Whatever you may know, you cannot be truly efficient ministers if you[’re] not “apt to teach.” You know ministers who have mistaken their calling, and evidently have no gifts for it: make sure that none think the same of you. There are brethren in the ministry whose speech is intolerable; either they rouse you to wrath, or else they send you to sleep. No [anesthetic] can ever equal some discourses in sleep-giving properties; no human being, unless gifted with infinite patience, could long endure to listen to them, and nature does well to give the victim deliverance through sleep.

I heard one say the other day that a certain preacher had no more gifts for the ministry than an oyster, and in my own judgment [that] was a slander on the oyster, for that worthy bivalve shows great discretion in his openings, and knows when to close. If some men were sentenced to hear their own sermons it would be a righteous judgment upon them, and they would soon cry out with Cain, “My punishment is greater than I can bear.” Let us not fall under the same condemnation.[20]

Spurgeon said to his students, “Keep your old sermons to weep over them.”

How to Fulfill the Charge

Swim up tide. How are you going to do it? Well, you’ve got it there in verse 5: “As for you, no matter what else is going—the myths are going around, the circus has come through town, and people are running off to this one and to that one—as for you, number one, always be sober-minded.” Or, if you like, “Keep your head.”[21] “Keep your head.” “The fact that some around you, Timothy, have been intoxicated by various ideas and have drifted off, that is all the more reason for you to stay awake, to be vigilant. Make sure you don’t fall asleep at the wheel. Watch your life. Watch your doctrine. That’s crucial for you, and it’s crucial for your congregation.”[22] The greatest need of our congregations is not our giftedness; it is our godliness.

The primary responsibility in preaching is to have a direct encounter with the living God through the Word of God.

“Be sober-minded, endure suffering.” “Endure suffering.” I don’t want to be unkind to people that are younger than me now, but I’m always intrigued when I find these “young pastors” hanging around Starbucks with a laptop. And apparently, they’re very engaged, very diligent in what they’re doing. Seems to me like vacation, I would say. You just sit around there and ponder.

Suffering? You mean like dealing with people you don’t want to deal with—like your congregation? I mean, the congregation is not a group of people you would all like to go on vacation with, is it? At least mine isn’t. I know they don’t want to go on vacation with me. No, there’s a measure of that.

No! Make sure that you realize that Jesus didn’t put suffering in the small print. He’s done it all the way through. Paul has, at least. “Make sure,” he says. “Do[n’t] be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord, [or] of me his prisoner, but share in suffering.”[23] “I suffer,” he says. “I’m suffering. I endure everything.”[24] And he’s really saying to Timothy and to us as pastors, “Timothy, this goes with the territory”—physical, mental, emotional, the costs involved in following “the pattern of … sound words”: dealing with the accusations, dealing with the insinuations of the Evil One, who wants to come to deceive and to discourage and to derail the servants of the Lord.

Sanballat and Tobiah and Geshem the Arab, these… I don’t know. I meet these people all the time, and I wasn’t around in Nehemiah’s day. But they have a funny way of showing up, don’t they? They do. It is really strange. If I could find Ezra or Nehemiah, I’d be a lot better off right now, because I wanted to let you know… You know, this is how it always goes. They come to him, and they say, “You know, you’re really causing trouble. Come down and meet with us.” He says, “I’m doing the work. I can’t come down.”[25] They send him an approach four times. And then they up the ante—the way it usually happens at church—and they send an open letter. “Sanballat for the fifth time sent his servant to me with an open letter.” (“It’s just between you and me, Pastor—but I told seven hundred people about it before I came, all right?”) And he had this letter “in his hand,” and “in it was written, ‘It is reported among the nations, and Geshem also says it, that you and the Jews intend to rebel; that[’s] why you[’re] building the wall. And according to these reports you wish to become their king.’”[26] (“We know what you’re doing, Pastor!”) He says, “You’re building a wall for yourself! You’re building a monument for yourself!”

Now, you can’t use this often, but I’ll tell you: You need to have it in your hip pocket—the Nehemiah 6:8 response. All right? It goes like this. This is what he said: “I sent him this response: ‘Nothing like what you say is happening. You are just making it up out of your heads.’”[27] Okay? So it goes like this: “Dear Mrs. Jenkins: Nehemiah 6:8. Your pastor and friend, Alistair.” You can’t use it often, but you need to have it ready when the day comes, when you’ve got one of those fourteen-page letters that has been circulated around.

No, no, no. You’re going to have to keep your head, endure hardship, and tell people about Jesus. “Do the work of an evangelist.” “Do the work of an evangelist.”

I don’t think that Paul is suggesting here a new direction in ministry for Timothy. I think he’s reinforcing the charge that he’s already given him: to preach the Word. Professor Murray of Westminster Seminary years ago was driving in the car with a friend. I know this friend, because he told me this story. And he said that Murray asked him in the car, as a bit of a tease, “William, what would you say is the difference between a lecture and a sermon?” And William tried various answers; none of them satisfied the professor. And he finally gave up, and he said, “So then, what is the answer?” And the professor said, “A sermon is a personal, passionate plea.” William said, “In what sense?” He said, “We beseech you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God.”[28]

How we long, as a result of the preaching of the gospel, to see men and women, young people, being gloriously converted, not because of our voices but because of God’s voice! Why is it that people can sit in our congregations and never hear the gospel? It’s not because we weren’t proclaiming it. It’s because they couldn’t hear it. There needed to be a divine transaction whereby God would open blind eyes, unstop deaf ears, soften hard hearts, and bring them to himself. That’s why we need so much the prayers of our congregation. Packer: “If one preaches the Bible biblically, one cannot help preaching the gospel all the time, and every sermon will … at least by implication [be] evangelistic.”[29]

“Keep your head, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, and fulfill your ministry,”—or, in the [New International] Version, “Discharge your duties.”[30] “Discharge your duties.” There’s a dirty word in Christian circles, isn’t it? If you suggest at all that Jesus really meant what he said when he said, “If somebody loves me, he will keep my commandments”?[31] That the sense of moral rectitude, the work of the Spirit in sanctification, produces things in people’s lives—changes, alters things. When did that become legalism? Duties!

I’m sure none of you remember this, because you weren’t there, but the Battle of Trafalgar took place 218 years ago. And you may not even know what happened at the Battle of Trafalgar, and I could forgive you of that—but only a little bit. Because Horatio Nelson was the vice admiral, and he was on the deck of the ship Victory. And he encouraged his attendant to run up the mast a word to the sailors going into battle. And the flags read, “England expects that every man will do his duty.” It doesn’t read, “England expects every man to do his duty.” He expects that every man will do his duty, because of the prior commitment that he has made—in that case, to serve the King.

Fulfilling our ministry is a never-ending story, isn’t it? I mean, when I came here in ’83, people would say, you know, “Who’s the young guy?” Now when I go places, people ask me, “So, do you have any plans for retirement?” I understand that. But this has now become my mantra: Psalm 71:17–18. People ask me, “What’s going on now?” this is what I tell them:

O God, from my youth you have taught me,
 and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds.
So even to old age and gray hairs,
 O God, do not forsake me,
until I proclaim your might to another generation,
 your power to all those to come.

Charles Simeon was the pastor at Holy Trinity Church in Cambridge for fifty-three years. And he planned to go to the age of sixty. And he’d gone through some severe struggles and was feeling discouraged and disheartened, and he had gone to catch the air in Scotland. (And what a wise man he was to do such a thing!) And while he was walking in the hills of Scotland, he writes that he encountered God—or that God encountered him. And he sensed that what God said to him was

“I brought you through that time. I laid you aside, because you have been entertaining with satisfaction the thought of your retirement. But now, just when you were planning to stop, I have decided to quadruple your strength, that you might execute your desire on a more extended plan.”

So it was that at the age of sixty, Simeon renewed his commitment to his pulpit and the mission of the church and preached vigorously for seventeen more years until eight weeks before his death.[32]

“Timothy, run right through the tape.” If this was one of these kind of places that you could then cue the video—which it isn’t, and I’m glad, ’cause I don’t really like them—then we would put up the video here, with the music of Vangelis. And then we would see Ian Charleson, playing the part of Eric Liddell, coming round the corner. Liddell won the four hundred meters, for which he had never prepared, as you know. He broke the world record, the Olympic record. He got back to Scotland, was there for a while before he went to China. They interviewed him in the British press, said, “How was it that you were able to run the four hundred meters the way you did?” He said, “Well, I ran the first two hundred meters as fast as I could, and then, with God’s strength, I ran the second two hundred even faster.”

And you remember how he was chided by his sister in the movie—it’s true—“What are you doing, Eric? What are you doing with your life? You’ve not shown up for the Bible class. You’re too much athletics, too much rugby, too much this. God made you for himself, Eric.”

“I know he did—for himself, for China. But he also made me fast. And when I run, I feel his pleasure.”[33]

And his departure from Edinburgh Station was fantastic. All the people came out. He was a huge hero. I mean, he was the LeBron James of his time, you know? Everybody knew him. And when he got on the train that was going to take him south, he rolled the window down, and he shouted out of the window to a massed crowd of people of all ilks and styles and beliefs—he shouted, “Christ for the world, for the world needs Christ!” And then he led them in the singing of the hymn

Jesus shall reign where’er the sun
Doth his successive [journey] run,
His kingdom stretch from shore to shore
Till moons shall wax and wane no more.[34]

And in that continuum you find all these different names: Timothy, Luke, Mark—all theirs, and in the providence of God.

You know, people say, “Well, where do you think we would fit into the thing?” I know exactly where we would fit. So… “Do your best to come before winter. Eubulus sends greeting to you.” Who was he? God knows. “And so do Pudens and Linus.” This sounds like, you know, in Charlie Brown—“Pudens … Linus and Claudia.” No, but here’s where we are: “And all the brothers and sisters.” “All the brothers and sisters.” What a privilege to be a brother, to be a sister, to be in the family of God, to be a student of the Word, to be a proclaimer of the good news! Christ for the world! The world needs Christ.

Let us pray:

Father, we thank you that your Word is a lamp to our feet; it’s a light to our path.[35] Thank you that Jesus said, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will [never] pass away.”[36] Thank you that while the grass withers and the flowers fall, the Word of the Lord endures forever.[37] And, as Peter said, “This is the word which by the gospel [was] preached [to] you.”[38]

Thank you, Lord, for one another. Thank you that we’re better together than any of us are on our own. Give to us a renewed desire to be sober-minded, to endure suffering, to do the work of an evangelist, and to fulfill the ministry you’ve entrusted to us. For we pray in Christ’s name. Amen.

[1] John Stott, The Living Church: Convictions of a Lifelong Pastor (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Books, 2007), 101.

[2] See 1 Corinthians 14:8.

[3] J. C. Ryle, Principles for Churchmen: A Manual of Positive Statements on Some Subjects of Controversy […], 4th ed. (London: Chas. J. Thynne, 1900), 165–66.

[4] J. C. Ryle, Holiness: Its Nature, Hindrances, Difficulties, and Roots (1877), chap. 13. Paraphrased.

[5] D. Edmond Hiebert, An Introduction to the Pauline Epistles (Chicago: Moody, 1954), 353.

[6] 2 Timothy 3:13–15 (ESV).

[7] See 2 Timothy 1:5.

[8] See 2 Timothy 3:16.

[9] John 5:22, 27 (paraphrased).

[10] 2 Corinthians 5:10 (paraphrased).

[11] William Shakespeare, Hamlet, 5.1. Paraphrased.

[12] Shakespeare, 5.1.

[13] 2 Timothy 1:13–14 (ESV).

[14] 2 Timothy 4:2 (NEB).

[15] 2 Timothy 1:15 (ESV).

[16] Isaiah 30:10 (ESV).

[17] Christine McVie and Eddie Quintela, “Little Lies” (1987).

[18] Mark 2:5 (ESV). See also Matthew 9:2; Luke 5:20.

[19] 1 Corinthians 1:18 (NIV).

[20] C. H. Spurgeon, “The Neceszsity of Ministerial Progress,” in Lectures to My Students (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 2008), 252.

[21] 2 Timothy 4:5 (NIV).

[22] 1 Timothy 4:16 (paraphrased).

[23] 2 Timothy 1:8 (ESV).

[24] 2 Timothy 2:10 (paraphrased).

[25] Nehemiah 6:2–3 (paraphrased).

[26] Nehemiah 6:5–6 (ESV).

[27] Nehemiah 6:8 (paraphrased).

[28] 2 Corinthians 5:20 (paraphrased).

[29] J. I. Packer, A Quest for Godliness: The Puritan Vision of the Christian Life (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 1990), 169.

[30] 2 Timothy 4:5 (paraphrased from the NIV).

[31] John 14:15 (paraphrased).

[32] John Piper, The Roots of Endurance: Invincible Perseverance in the Lives of John Newton, Charles Simeon, and William Wilberforce, The Swans Are Not Silent 3 (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2002), 96. Paraphrased.

[33] Chariots of Fire, directed by Hugh Hudson, written by Colin Welland (1981). Paraphrased.

[34] Isaac Watts, “Jesus Shall Reign Where’er the Sun” (1719).

[35] See Psalm 119:105.

[36] Matthew 24:35 (ESV).

[37] See Isaiah 40:8.

[38] 1 Peter 1:25 (KJV).