Jan. 12, 2023
We might find it difficult not to be ashamed of the Gospel, fearing ridicule or mockery when sharing our faith in Jesus Christ with others. Alistair Begg draws confidence and encouragement from the apostle Paul’s eager determination to make Christ known to all. Paul’s tenacity in sharing that God is the only one who can rescue us and that it is the power of God that makes men wise to salvation can inspire us to proclaim Gospel truth with genuine, convicting boldness.
Sermon Transcript: Print
I invite you to turn with me to 2 Timothy and to chapter 1. And I’m not going to do anything with 2 Timothy, but I want to read this first fourteen verses of 2 Timothy, and then we’ll proceed from there:
“Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God according to the promise of the life that is in Christ Jesus,
“To Timothy, my beloved child:
“Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.
“I thank God whom I serve, as did my ancestors, with a clear conscience, as I remember you constantly in my prayers night and day. As I remember your tears, I long to see you, that I may be filled with joy. I[’m] reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I[’m] sure, dwells in you as well. For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands, for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.
“Therefore do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord, nor of me his prisoner, but share in suffering for the gospel by the power of God, who saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began, and which now has been manifested through the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel, for which I was appointed a preacher and apostle and teacher, which is why I suffer as I do. But I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed, and I[’m] convinced that he is able to guard until that day what has been entrusted to me. Follow the pattern of the sound words that you[’ve] heard from me, in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. By the Holy Spirit who dwells within us, guard the good deposit entrusted to you.”
And then from there to Romans chapter 1 and our text for this morning, Romans 1:16–17. Paul writes,
“For I[’m] not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, ‘The righteous shall live by faith.’”
Amen.
Now just a brief prayer before we look to the Bible together:
Father, what we know not, teach us; what we have not, give us; what we are not, make us. For your Son’s sake we pray. Amen.
Now, let me tell you what I would like to try and do over these three opportunities that I have, and then we can decide together by lunchtime tomorrow whether we have achieved our objective. I’m sure if you’ve done any teaching at all, you will have taught some of the “I am” statements of Jesus—“I am the bread of life,”[1] “I am the light of the world,”[2] and so on. But I haven’t heard anybody do a series on the “I am” statements of Paul. And I got thinking about it, and I realized that there would be a significant series if you simply take all of the times that Paul leads into something by saying “I am.” And perhaps the classic is the one with which we begin. Tonight, we’ll go to another one in Ephesians, and tomorrow morning, we’ll go to another one in 2 Timothy. But for now, we are at “I am not ashamed of the gospel.”
Now, I want to, as it were, waggle my golf club on the tee a little bit before I actually hit the ball. So if you just would be patient in relationship to this, let’s set… Any time you teach the Bible, you’re fusing different horizons. First of all, there’s the horizon of my understanding and the text that is before me. Then there is the ability, the challenge, of the preacher to fuse the horizon between the people that he is addressing and the text that he is proclaiming and then to recognize that the people he is addressing live in a culture which is alien to where many of them, then, are. So now, somehow or another, you’re trying to see all of those elements fused, which is a great privilege and quite a challenge. So let’s just take a moment, as it were, and set this first of all in our own cultural setting and then within the context of Rome itself.
Some of you will have noticed in the press—because it got over here—that the most recent census in the United Kingdom, when they asked questions about religion and religious observance and so on, resulted in many of the pundits acknowledging the fact that Britain is no longer the country that it once was in terms of its Christian heritage. And many of them wrote concerning the diminishing impact of Christianity, some of them even suggesting that Christianity in the United Kingdom is in terminal decline. They identify the fact that less than half of the British population would give any affiliation at all to Christianity and that the largest rising group amongst the citizens of the UK are those who describe themselves as having no religion whatsoever.
Now, many of these people are old—even older than me—but many of them are in my generation. And when I read the press, I said, “Well, I wonder if anyone has any explanation for this.” Very few have observed along the lines that would be helpful to us. But I’ve made my own observations. And one is this: that my generation, the baby boomer generation in the United Kingdom, gave up on God—gave up on God, for all kinds of reasons. They then raised a millennial generation that had absolutely no interest in God whatsoever. They raised a generation of people that have been brought up in a moral and spiritual vacuum, who have found themselves alive in the world without knowing, really, why they’re there at all.
Of course, this is not unique to Great Britain. It is true here. And it is not unique to this point in history. Years ago, at the end of the nineteenth century, for those of you who do art—will perhaps know of the work of the Postimpressionist painter Gauguin. And he was a wild man, as many of them were. He was catechized as a Roman Catholic as a child, but as he grew into his manhood, he led a dissolute life. He died somewhat prematurely, we would say, in dissolution, living in the Polynesian islands and painting down there.
His most famous piece covered birth to death. I haven’t seen it—only in magazines. It’s in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. And it is remarkably large, but the most distinguishing feature about it is that he wrote on the canvas. And he wrote on the canvas three questions up on the left-hand corner. (It’d be the right-hand corner as you’re looking at it now. If we’re looking at the canvas, it’s over here.) He wrote them in French:
D’où Venons Nous
Que Sommes Nous
Où Allons Nous
“Where do we come from?” “What are we?” And “Where are we going?” And he didn’t have an answer to his question. Soon after the completion of the painting, he made a useless attempt at suicide.
But the generation that is your generation largely is living in that kind of vacuum, asking questions like “Who am I?” and “Why do I matter?” and living—since we mentioned narrative—living at the end of a period of time in which all the big narratives that explain existence have actually begun to evaporate. People have got absolutely no idea what they’re doing here. They’ve got no story, no big story, that explains where they fit in the framework of human existence. And you—yes, you—have been singing this morning things which I trust you actually believe and are prepared to live your life for and to do so unashamedly.
In every generation… Because the concern of the pundits about the state of the church in Great Britain… If you come with me to the UK, I can take you to all the churches where there are many, many students—a great variety of ages and so on—and they’re all there. And the unifying factor that has these churches—whether it’s in the rural parts of the north, whether it’s in Glasgow, Edinburgh, Dundee, Stirling, wherever you want to go, Aberdeen—the unifying… Why are these people there? Why are they all there? Because of the gospel. Because they actually believe that the Bible is the Word of God, that Jesus is the King, and that he executes his reign from the position of heaven itself, so that “the Lord God omnipotent reign[s]”;[3] it doesn’t always seem so, but it is so.
And one of the things that we have the privilege of doing, living as exiles as we do, “pilgrims” and “strangers,”[4] is bringing to bear upon our culture, upon our little spheres of influence, this amazing story—which, of course, Paul declares to the Roman church here in such a way that he wants them to know that he is not ashamed, in much the same way that out of the darkness of the Middle Ages, God lit a flame in the heart of a Roman Catholic monk called Martin Luther.
Luther, of course, was similar, wasn’t he? He was praying. He was confessing his sins. He was wrestling with his guilty conscience. He was trying his best to fear God. Yet he feared death. He feared judgment. He feared hell. He had no way of trying to make sense of his existence until the lights came on, and when the lights came on and he realized that the righteousness of God was not something that he himself was supposed to muster up, but it was rather that which was a gift, and all that had previously troubled him became a gateway into heaven.
Now, modern men and women—and you’re part of that company—have largely dispensed with these kinds of truths. Even in churches, theology is done without any kind of biblical diagnosis, so that men and women are not sinful, guilty, lost, responsible for it all—no, they are just a little misguided, just in need of a little more self-improvement, someone who will come along and soothe their disappointments and help them in their discomfitures.
David Wells, commenting on this, he says we live “over a period of time” in which
our society has slowly exited the moral world and it now lives … in a psychological world. The difference is that in one there is right and wrong and in the other there is not. In this other world, we are comfortable or not, psychologically healthy or not, dysfunctional or not, but we[’re] never sinners.[5]
You see, we need the Bible to be made “wise for salvation.”[6] And the Bible gives to us the gospel, which Paul says is “the power of God for salvation.”
Now, here we are; we’re about at our text, if you’re still with me. If your Bible is open to Romans 1, you will notice that Paul, right out of the gate, lets the Roman church know that he had been set apart for the gospel. Down in verse 15, he says, “I am eager to preach the gospel.”
Now, notice: He wasn’t talking about an evangelistic venture here. He’s writing to the church, he’s writing to the believers in Rome, and he says, “I am eager to preach the gospel to you.” “To preach the gospel to you.” Why? Because we need to preach the gospel to ourselves every single day. That’s the importance of that last hymn: “When Satan tempts me to despair”[7]—which he does—what is the answer, when you say to yourself, “Have I prayed enough? Do I love enough? Do I witness enough? Do I do this enough and that enough and every—” And at the end of the day you say, “No, I don’t do any of it enough.” And the devil comes to you, and he says, “Well, look at that! And you’re at the Master’s University as well, and that’s your state of affairs?” Well, what do you say to that? You say, “Well, I’m going to do much better next week. I’m going to read four chapters next week instead of one chapter. I’m going to do this. I’m going to do that.” Then you’re in danger, loved one. ’Cause the answer is “Go back to hell where you belong. Because, Satan, you’re the one who comes and tempts me to despair. But ‘upward I look and see him there.’”[8]
Since we mentioned Luther: Luther’s helpful in this. Because Luther says by and large, my Christian life is outside of me. It’s outside of me. What was he meaning? He says, “Well, we’re not saved by what we do. We’re not saved as a result of what we’re able to do. We’re not even saved as a result of what God has done in us. We’re saved as a result of what God has done for us.” For us. And that, as you see, is the testimony of Paul right here: obligated, commissioned, eager.
The people he’s writing to are living within the framework of the imperial power of Rome. His enthusiasm for the gospel would surely challenge those to whom he writes and encourage them. And he explains the reason for his eager determination to preach the gospel by giving us verses 16 and 17.
Now, you will know that Saul of Tarsus, if the conjecture regarding him is accurate, if tradition that describes him is even close to accurate, then he wasn’t like a high school quarterback. He wasn’t the person that would be picked first. No, tradition describes Paul as an ugly wee man—that’s not very nice to start with—“with beetle brows, bandy legs, … bald [head], … hooked nose, bad eyesight and [possessing] no great rhetorical gifts.”[9] But apart from that, he was really good, right? You get it? Doesn’t look like much, doesn’t sound like much, and when the people met him, they said to themselves, “Well, what’s the deal with this fellow? I went to meet him at the donkey station. He’s going to preach for us. And when I shook hands with him, his hand was all that kind of slimy way. I don’t know whether he was nervous or what it was. I actually think he wasn’t so sure of himself. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he wrote to somebody, and he says, you know, ‘When I came to you, I came in weakness and in fear and in much trembling.’”[10] “I’m eager…”
What possible hope was there of God doing very much through this fellow? How was he going to make an impact on these accomplished citizens of Rome? How are you planning on making an impact in the world to which you’re going?
Well, let’s just take this and look at it as it unfolds for us: “For I am not ashamed of the gospel.” “I[’m] not ashamed of the gospel.”
Now, we know from Paul’s writing that he was aware of how weak the gospel appeared in the eyes of unbelievers. It’s actually not hard to be ashamed of the gospel. It’s very easy when the band is playing, and we’re all together, and we’re out. But when you’re on your own in a coffee shop, and somebody engages you in conversation, and you finally come down to the heart and soul of it, you realize what it is you’re going to tell them: You’re going to tell them what the Bible says. And the word of the cross, which is at the heart of the gospel, is what? It is “foolishness to those who are perishing.”[11] So that’s the baseline: that the immediate response of people is “You’ve got to be out of your mind! Are you kidding me? Are you telling me that the death of a Galilean carpenter two thousand years ago is the key to the entire story of human history and that in him alone is the answer to the prolonged longings of the human heart?” And you’re going to go, “Yes, yes”—rather than “Yes! Of course I am. Yes!” “I’m not ashamed of this. It’s a stumbling block to the Jews; it’s folly to the gentiles.”[12]
That’s why, incidentally, I read from 2 Timothy 1. Because you would have picked it up, won’t you? ’Cause you’re a bright group. He says to Timothy, “[So] do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord.” You don’t have to tell somebody to not be ashamed unless you know that they’re tempted to be ashamed. Here’s Timothy. He’s got two books in the Bible. His granny’s a Christian, his mom’s a Christian, and he’s on the receiving end of the tutelage of the apostle Paul. You would think he’d be walking around just doing his thing. He says, “Now, Timothy, don’t be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord.”
You see, you can get away with spirituality. We can get away with religious twaddle. But when you get down to the heart of it, that the cross of Jesus Christ—there his blood is shed in order that all who believe might come to know God in a living and true way. “And don’t be ashamed of me, his prisoner, but share in suffering for the gospel.” What kind of invitation is that?
Now, as these Roman Christians read this letter, remember, they were living under the pressures of a Roman culture—a Roman culture that had a place for all kinds of gods, small g. You’ve been to Rome, many of you. And the Roman pantheon was able to absorb just about all and every kind of religious idea save for one. They had a place for all gods but not for the living and true God.
That’s why, again, when Peter writes, probably just before the persecution of Nero, you know, he says, “You’re going to have to face the fact that we’re going to suffer for this stuff.”[13] I’m not a prophet; I’m not the son of a prophet.[14] But I will tell you this: that the wind change in this culture in which you folks are now living is vastly different. When I preached here thirty years ago, the wind could still be said to be at least marginally at our backs—that there was a sense in which we could ride that. 1972, when I came for a big Campus Crusade event in Dallas: a hundred thousand people in Dallas at the Cotton Bowl, or whatever the thing was called—a hundred thousand there every night, singing, evangelizing, doing all kinds of things! It’s vastly different now. The wind is in our face.
And in Rome, they said—one met one person in the morning—“Caesar is lord. Good morning. Caesar is lord.”
Person said, “No, Jesus is Lord.”
He said, “No, you can’t say Jesus is Lord.”
“Well, we’re going to have to say Jesus is Lord.”
“Well, if you say that Jesus is Lord, we’re going to turn you upside down and stick you in the ground and set fire to you.”
“I am not ashamed. I am not ashamed.”
We’re living at a different time. We’re living in a different place. But we are Christians living under a cultural pressure to keep our thoughts to ourselves. It’s not like it was even twenty years ago, where they said with the sort of influx of pluralistic thinking, “We can at least have our own little box in the square”—you know, “The Buddhist can be there, Islam can be there, the ‘no religions’ can be there, and we can be there.” But now we’re the bad guys. We can’t be there. We are the ones that can’t be there. We are the canceled ones. It’s a different world.
Listen to him: “I am not ashamed of the gospel.” The message seems weak. It seems even pathetic. But we remind ourselves that “the weakness of God is stronger than [man].”[15] And I don’t know if this is your experience, but as I move and travel and think and talk with people, I’m constantly pushed back with the notion that faith lives outside the realm of facts—that rational people deal with tangible realities, whereas religious people of whatever ilk, but particularly Christian, are now in another realm altogether.
And this is where, again, we have to remind ourselves of the way in which the apostles articulated these truths: “These are the things that we have handled. These are the things that we have touched. These are the things that we’ve seen with our own eyes.”[16] The resurrection of Jesus Christ was the foundation of the conversion of Saul of Tarsus. The fellow who says, “I’m not ashamed of the gospel,” is the same fellow who was on his way to Damascus with letters from the religious authorities to imprison and kill those who were the followers of Jesus. It wasn’t that he had just fallen out of his bed and banged his head and had a religious experience. No, he was radically changed. And he says, “That’s why I’m eager. And that’s why I’m not ashamed.”
Why is he not ashamed? He tells us! “For it is the power of God.” “It is the power of God for salvation.” Luther had to realize that he wasn’t going to be saved through the sacraments, only through the gospel. “For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, it pleased God through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe.”[17]
Every person that God rescues he will rescue through the gospel. No one anywhere or at any time, including before Christ, has ever been brought into a relationship with God, been rescued from their own sinful propensities by any other way than by the gospel. All the Old Testament looked forward to that, when it would come. We look back to what it is. That is the basis of salvation—a salvation that has saved us, as we learned at Sunday school, from sin’s power, from sin’s penalty, from sin’s presence.
Bishop Westcott was a famous Greek scholar. He was also a bishop. (That’s why I called him that.) And he got on the train one time in suburban London, and there was a girl there from the Salvation Army. She was sitting in the same compartment. And when he came on, he had his crook, and he had a pointed hat like it was Halloween, and he came in the compartment. And as soon as the Salvation Army girl looked at this fellow, she knew, “There’s no way this guy can be a Christian.” So she said to him, “Excuse me, sir. Is you saved?” And the bishop said to her—actually quoting it in Greek—but he said to her, “Young lady, do you mean have I been saved, am I being saved, or will I be saved?”[18] And we don’t have how she responded to that. I’m sure she just sat and looked out of the window.
But that is the answer, isn’t it? I have been saved from sin’s penalty—no charge against me in Christ. I one day will be saved from sin’s presence, but I’m not there. I’m in Cleveland. I’m in Christ, but I’m in Cleveland. I am a redeemed sinner, but I am a sinner. How, then, am I going to make it through this earthly pilgrimage living as an alien and a stranger? Because the nature of the wonder of God’s salvation—all that he has done for us in Christ.
And you will notice that “it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes.” “Who believes.” Hearing the message is not salvation. Salvation is never ours apart from faith. It’s not our faith that gives the gospel its power. It’s the power of the gospel that makes it possible for us to believe—anyone and everyone who believes, “to the Jew first and also to the Greek.”
Back in verse 5, actually: “through whom we have received grace and apostleship to bring about the obedience of [the] faith for the sake of his name among all the nations.” Do you find people ask you that? “Why do you have to go to Mongolia to tell people about Jesus? Why are you over there in the Ukraine? Why are you down in South America? Why do you go on these mission trips? Why can’t you just shut up and leave people? Why do you have to do that? Jewish people don’t do that. They’re not trying to do that. They don’t care if you became Jewish or not. What’s up with you Christians? Why do you do that? Why are you stopping people in the street? Why are you giving these things out? Why do you do that!” “Because I’m not ashamed of the gospel. It’s the power of God for salvation to those who believe.” And therefore, we want to say to them—when we’ve explained and they ask, like the Philippian jailer, “What must I do to be saved?”—we tell them, “Believe [on] the Lord Jesus [Christ], and you will be saved.”[19]
“For I am not ashamed”—which explains his eagerness—“for it is the power of God for salvation”—which explains why he’s not ashamed. And then, notice, in 17: “for in it the righteousness of God is revealed,” explaining why the gospel is the power of God.
The salvation provided in the gospel is the need of every single person on Planet Earth right now. The salvation provided in the gospel is the need of every single person on Planet Earth. Why? Because all are guilty. Because, if you look to verse 18—which we won’t deal with—but because “the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men who, by their unrighteousness suppress the truth.”[20] For what they can see in the world and what they know in their conscience convinces them about the fact of God.[21]
That’s why, you know, when the devil was entertaining some of his subdevils who came for a conference with him to tell him what they were going to do to spoil people’s lives and to help them make sure that they wouldn’t believe the story of the gospel, the first subdevil came and he said, “What I’m going to do is I’m going to tell them that there is no heaven.” And the devil says, “I wouldn’t do that, because inside the heart of man there is an awareness of that which is something far more.” As C. S. Lewis terms it, it is the fragrance I’ve never smelled; it is a song, a melody that I have never heard.[22] Because if everything in this life does not satisfy me in the way that it is, the problem is not that this life is no good; it is that I was made for another life.[23] “Don’t go and do that; they won’t buy it.”
The second one says, “Well, I’ll just tell them that there’s no judgment.” And the devil says, “And that won’t work either, because every man that was made has a conscience before God. And they understand right, and they understand wrong, and they know when they’ve deviated from course.”
The third fellow says, “Well, I’m going to just go and tell them, ‘There is no hurry. There is no hurry.’” And the devil said, “Go, and you’ll do tremendous damage.”
All are guilty, devoid of the good to make ourselves pleasing to God, subjects of his wrath. And this amazing story whereby God grants to us the status of Christ himself is quite miraculous, isn’t it? There’s nothing like it in the whole world. It’s not unconditionally and universally operative to salvation. Each must believe in “the righteousness of God … revealed from faith for faith.” It’s good and important for us to be reminded that the gospel is not the presentation of an idea. The gospel is the operation of a power.
You see what Paul is saying here? He’s saying this: that God saves through the message of the gospel proclaimed. Proclaimed. Paul’s testimony was just that, wasn’t it? In fact, when you realize how radically the transformation was brought about in Paul’s life, you realize that the conversion of Saul of Tarsus is one of the greatest apologetics for the Christian gospel. By the time he writes to the Philippians, he says, “You know, it’s because of the surpassing worth of knowing Jesus that for his sake I’ve suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes through the law but that which comes through faith in Jesus Christ—the righteousness from God that depends upon faith.”[24]
Now, think about who’s saying this. This is the fellow who was able to say in his previous existence, as far as the law was concerned, he was really, really good. He had a good background, he was a good religious man, and he understood.[25] He was heading in that direction. He turns it upside down.
Let me tell you something: When somebody tells you they’ve become a Christian, at least look for these three things. At least look for this. Let’s just think about it in terms of Paul: When Paul was converted, number one, he had a whole new view of Jesus—a completely different view of Jesus. Prior to his conversion, he thought the thing was a crock. He meets Jesus and is changed. He had a whole new view of the followers of Jesus. He was on his way to Damascus to destroy them. Now he goes to join them. And he had a completely new view of the mercy of God. So when someone says, “Well, I’ve come to believe in Jesus,” their view of Jesus is that he is a Savior; he’s a Lord; he’s a King. You don’t have to tell them, “You’re supposed to go to church.” They got a whole new view of what it means to be in Christ: “My identity is now in Jesus and with all who are in Jesus. And I’m amazed—completely amazed—that God would reach out to me in this way.”
Now, what Paul is describing here is actually an instantaneous change—an instantaneous change before God. He’s not talking about a moral, inner transformation. He’s talking about the redemption of which we’ve been singing—that we’re able to say, “The vilest offender who truly believes that moment from Jesus a pardon receives.”[26] The righteousness is “revealed”; it’s not merely made known—not simply grasped, as it were, by our minds but actively and dynamically brought to bear upon our sinful conditions. It is miraculous.
Remember, when he writes to Titus, he says, “The grace of God has appeared, teaching us to say no…”[27]
When the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by his grace we might become heirs … to the hope of eternal life.[28]
And “the righteous” then “shall live by faith.” Faith is not the condition. Faith is the conduit.
Now, let’s suppose just for a moment you are going to go out and share this with somebody, and you’ve got a couple people you’re meeting with in the coffee shop, and you end up saying as you go home, “If only Tom or Tina would believe, they would experience the power of the gospel.” But in actual fact, without the power of the gospel, Tom and Tina will never believe. “I’m not ashamed of the gospel. Without the power of the gospel, what have we got?”
You see, when we speak in these terms with our friends and neighbors, we can be very straightforward: Either they’re going to trust God to save them, or they’re just going to try and save themselves. God’s activity in reaching out to rescue all who trust in Christ by giving them an undeserved gift and a right status before him is the truth that we proclaim.
When Eric Liddell left Scotland for China (not when he went to run in the 1924 Olympics but when he left Scotland for China), he was such a huge personality because of his athletic prowess that the people that came to see him off—it’s another era altogether—the people that came to see him off at the railway station in Edinburgh all gathered in a great crowd. I mean, he’d won gold. He set a new world record in the four hundred meters in the ’24 Olympics. And he was going to China. The buzz in the community was “Well, why would this guy go to China?” He played rugby for Edinburgh University. He played rugby for Scotland. He’d won a gold.
And when he was settled on the train, he rolled the window down, and he shouted out to the people, “Christ for the world, for the world needs Christ!” And then he led them in the singing,
Jesus shall reign where’er the sun
Doth [its] successive journeys run,
His kingdom stretch from shore to shore
Till moons shall wax and wane no more.[29]
And, of course, he died, as you know, in China.
Somewhere along the line, you remember, his sister was giving him the business. If you want to watch an old movie—and it’s really an old movie (it goes back to 1981)—but Chariots of Fire is worth it. It’s definitely worth it. And there’s a wonderful scene where he’s shown up late for the Bible class that they’re doing at the university, and they’re gathering up the books at the end of it, and his sister Jenny says to him, “You know, Eric, I don’t think—I’m worried about you,” she says. This is a paraphrase. “I’m worried about you, because you’re being slipshod in some of this. I don’t think you’re serious.” She says, “You know, Eric, God made you for himself.” And he says, “Aye, Jenny, I know. He made me for himself. He made me for China. But he also made me fast. And when I run, I feel his pleasure.”[30]
Two Timothy 2:15 is the close, as it comes to mind, in the King James Version (the true version): “Study”—work hard—“to shew [your]self approved [to] God, a work[er] [who] needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.”
When I left Glasgow as a fifteen-year-old boy to go live in England, the Bible class that I attended gave me a Bible, which I still have on my shelf. And in it they put that verse. And I looked at it. I was fifteen. I looked at it; I said, “Well, okay, you know? That’s a nice verse.” If anyone had told me then, at the age of fifteen, that I would have the privilege of addressing you here today, I would have said, “You’ve got to be crazy.” But it’s quite amazing what God chooses to do—whether you’re a bandy-legged, bald, shortsighted, converted Jew or a funny little Scotsman with, you know… You know, people have muscles in places that I don’t even have places.
So let’s not be ashamed of this. Let’s not be arrogant. Let’s not be bombastic. Let’s not be rude. Let’s be decent folks. But when push comes to shove, stand with Paul: “I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, [for] the Jew first and also to the Greek. For in it [a] righteousness of God is [there] from faith [to] faith.”
Brief prayer:
Father, thank you that your Word is fixed in the heavens.[31] Thank you that it rewards our attention. And I pray that you will quicken us in these days, as we have opportunity before the onslaught of another semester of studies. When we’re on our own, when we’re thinking these issues out, come to us, Lord. Encourage, strengthen, and use us, we pray. For Jesus’ sake. Amen.
[1] John 6:35, 48 (ESV).
[2] John 8:12; 9:5 (ESV).
[3] Revelation 19:6 (KJV).
[4] 1 Peter 2:11 (KJV).
[5] David F. Wells, The Courage to Be Protestant: Reformation in Today’s World, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2017), 25.
[6] 2 Timothy 3:15 (ESV).
[7] Charitie Lees Bancroft, “Before the Throne of God Above” (1863).
[8] Bancroft.
[9] John Stott, The Message of Romans: God’s Good News for the World, The Bible Speaks Today (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic), 58.
[10] 1 Corinthians 2:3 (paraphrased).
[11] 1 Corinthians 1:18 (NIV).
[12] 1 Corinthians 1:23 (paraphrased).
[13] 1 Peter 4:12 (paraphrased).
[14] See Amos 7:14.
[15] 1 Corinthians 1:25 (ESV).
[16] 1 John 1:1 (paraphrased).
[17] 1 Corinthians 1:21 (ESV).
[18] Joseph Clayton, Bishop Westcott (London: A. R. Mowbray, 1906), 110–111. Paraphrased.
[19] Acts 16:31 (ESV).
[20] Romans 1:18 (ESV).
[21] See Romans 1:19.
[22] C. S. Lewis, “The Weight of Glory,” in The Weight of Glory and Other Addresses (1949).
[23] C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (1952), bk. 3, chap. 10.
[24] Philippians 3:8–9 (paraphrased).
[25] See Philippians 3:4–6.
[26] Fanny Jane Crosby, “To God Be the Glory” (1875).
[27] Titus 2:11–12 (paraphrased).
[28] Titus 3:4–7 (ESV).
[29] Isaac Watts, “Jesus Shall Reign Where’er the Sun” (1719).
[30] Chariots of Fire, directed by Hugh Hudson, written by Colin Welland (1981). Paraphrased.
[31] See Psalm 119:89.
Copyright © 2025, Alistair Begg. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations for sermons preached on or after November 6, 2011 are taken from The ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
For sermons preached before November 6, 2011, unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version® (NIV®), copyright © 1973 1978 1984 by Biblica, Inc.TM Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.