Suffering for the Gospel

Two Timothy 1:1:

“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 am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am 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 [Jesus Christ], 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[’m] not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed, and I am 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.

“You[’re] aware that all who are in Asia turned away from me, among whom are Phygelus and Hermogenes. May the Lord grant mercy to the household of Onesiphorus, for he often refreshed me and was not ashamed of my chains, but when he arrived in Rome he searched for me earnestly and found me—may the Lord grant him to find mercy from the Lord on that day!—and you well know all the service he rendered at Ephesus.”

Amen.

Okay. The verses to which we’re turning our attention are verses 8, 9, and 10—actually, really only verse 8, having been through the first service: “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.”

Verse 7, which we looked at just briefly last Sunday evening, is a verse in which Paul has reminded Timothy of what I think it’s Donald Guthrie refers to as “the triad of graces”[1] that are his, that are the experience of the servant of God: God having given to us a spirit that is not a spirit “of fear but of power and [of] love and [of] self-control”—the power not to be great but the power to keep on when tempted to quit or to flounder and fail. And there’s going to be plenty that is before Timothy that will be so daunting to him that it will be important that he reminds himself again and again of this word of encouragement: “God did not give me a spirit of fear,” he will have occasion to say to himself, “but a spirit of power, a spirit of love”—love for those who don’t love him, love for those who oppose him, love for those who are doubting and fearful, love for those who are gathering around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear[2] and to prove to be a thorn in his side and a nuisance to him. He’s going to need the love that Paul writes to the Corinthians about that “bears all things,” that “believes all things,” that “hopes all things,” that “endures all things”[3]—and, along with that, the need for “self-control,” enabling Timothy then to keep his head when others around him are losing theirs.[4] The word that is used later on, in the fourth chapter, is the word for sobriety. The NIV translates it, “Keep your head in all [circumstances].”[5] The King James Version, I think, is “be sober minded.”[6] The real danger for Timothy as a pastor is that he would get off track, that he could be led away one side or led away on the other side. Therefore, it is important that in his private life he knows self-control and in his public ministry he does too.

Now, it is in light of the resources of verse 7 that, then, Paul confronts him with the responsibilities of verse 8 and following. And so, he essentially says two things in verse 8: number one, “Do not be ashamed”; and number two, “Share in suffering for the gospel.” And we’ll look at them in turn.

“Do Not Be Ashamed”

First of all, “Do not be ashamed.” Now, the phraseology that is used here does not convey the notion that this was something that Timothy had already begun to do and he needed to stop doing. But the phraseology in Greek is “Don’t start doing this. The temptation may be for you to do so, but I want to say to you, Timothy: Do not be ashamed.” Of what? Well, number one, “of the testimony about our Lord.” He’s going on, in verses 9 and 10, to speak about the gospel, the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ, the gospel message that is centered on Jesus Christ and him crucified. And Paul recognizes that there will be those who come who scoff and who scorn Timothy for standing true in relationship to these things.

And Paul has made it clear in all of his writings that this gospel message is not immediately responded to with warmth. When he writes—and you can find this in 1 Corinthians 1, if you want to look it up—but when he writes the opening chapter of 1 Corinthians, he begins in a very similar way. He says, “Where is the one who is wise?” It’s verse 20. “Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age?” (He says, “Why don’t you step forward?”)

Has[n’t] God made foolish the wisdom of the world? 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.

You see what he’s saying there? He’s saying that when you testify to the Lord Jesus Christ—to who he is, to why he came, to what he’s done, to the fact of his resurrection, the power of his ascension, the anticipation of his return—the wisdom of the world says, “No. No.” And Paul says, “You need to know that man in his wisdom does not find God. It’s not possible for that to take place.” And “in the wisdom of God, the world did not know [him] through [human] wisdom.” So how does a man or a woman come to know him? He says, “Through the folly of what we preach.” Because the message of Jesus Christ which we preach, he says, is “a stumbling block to Jews and [a] folly to Gentiles …. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.”

“So, you see,” he says to Timothy, “I’m going to leave. You’re going to take over. Don’t be ashamed of the testimony of our Lord Jesus. Make sure that if you’re tempted to downplay it or to deviate from it, that you hold the line.” And he’s going to come back to this, as we will see.

Paul’s concern is not only for the preservation of the gospel, but it’s also for the progress of the gospel. And he realizes that, humanly speaking, Timothy has a pivotal role in this move from the apostolic to the postapostolic church. And therefore, the call that he issues to “not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord” is a call that was a necessary call, and it is one that reverberates down through time and remains as necessary today.

I could easily take this to myself: “Therefore, Alistair, do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord.” It’s possible to become ashamed of it, isn’t it? There’s no shame in telling people you’re religious. There’s no shame in telling people that you are a spiritual person. There’s no shame in engaging in sort of metaphysical dialogue about finding God within yourself. But there is shame that attaches to the fact that “there is one God,” that “there is one mediator between God and [man],”[7] and that man is Jesus Christ, and that it is by his sacrifice alone that sin is forgiven, that eternal life is secured, and that heaven is one’s destiny.

Now, if you think about it, even a casual knowledge of church history points to the fact that whenever an institution or a church or an organization or a pastor has failed to heed this call, things have collapsed around them. And the history of the church is, sadly, in many cases a history where people have fumbled and faltered at this very point, and they’ve stumbled. You will know this. You will have read or you will have experienced it: the denominations that began with a very solid conviction regarding the gospel, institutions like Princeton or Harvard that began with a solid conviction about the authority and the sufficiency of the Bible, the exclusive claims of Jesus of Nazareth. These things were built upon this. But no longer. Why not?

Well, partly because people became ashamed. They said, “Now we are modern men. We are modern women. We are intelligent men and women. Surely, and with the passage of time, we’re getting better, we’re getting brighter, and we can leave so much of that material behind.” That’s the line along which it runs. And as a result of that, pastors who were once convinced and very convincing are now, sadly, proponents of a theology that is just theologically vague and practically useless. Without doubt, it’s just a complete waste of time.

Now, let me give you one illustration that I may have given to you before, but I reiterate it if I did, because it’s purposeful and helpful: from the nineteenth into the twentieth century, William Booth, who was the founder of the Salvation Army, who had come out of a background of Methodism and decided that this good news of the gospel was important to be conveyed to a man so that he might discover the reality of who Jesus is and that he might also be helped with his physical and practical needs. But as he was about to go the way of all flesh and as the transition into the twentieth century was about to take place, they asked William Booth, “What do you consider to be the chief dangers which confront the church in the coming century?”—that is, in the twentieth century. And this is what he said: “Number one, religion without the Holy Spirit; two, Christianity without Christ; three, forgiveness without repentance; four, salvation without regeneration; five, politics without God; and six, heaven without hell.” He could never have imagined, I don’t think, just how prophetic he actually was. And the history of the Salvation Army in the twentieth century, for all of its good, bears sad testimony to the dangers that Booth alerted them to before he died. He was essentially saying, “If you become ashamed of the testimony of the Lord Jesus Christ, the thing’s over.”

Just in case you’re in any doubt, let me go on and quote something else that I’d written down here. This is William Booth’s perspective:

To get a man soundly saved it is not enough to put on him a [new] pair of … breeches, to give him regular work, or even to give him a University education. These things are all outside a man, and if the inside remains unchanged you have wasted your labor.[8]

Why? Because it’s about the testimony of our Lord. Nobody’s ashamed of saying, “Could you put some money in my kettle to give somebody a new pair of trousers?” But the reason I want you to put money in the kettle is so that these people might discover the reality that comes from who Jesus is and what he’s done. That’s what we’re finding here. That is what is here. “So, Timothy”—Timothy, and all the Timothys that follow him—“do not be ashamed of the message.”

Secondly, “And don’t be ashamed of the messenger.” Notice: “Do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord, nor of me his prisoner.” “Don’t be ashamed of me.” Now, you’ll notice in verse 15, if your Bible is open, that there were plenty who had become ashamed of him. He actually says, presumably with a measure of hyperbole, “All who were in Asia have turned away from me, including Phygelus and Hermogenes. Onesiphorus is a standout, and if you want someone to follow,” he says, “you should follow Onesiphorus,” but by and large, it had been a wholesale defection. You can imagine, I can imagine—but this is ’cause I’m weird—but you imagine in the dungeon, and he’s playing Carole King songs. And he’s sitting in there, and as he’s reflecting on Timothy and what a good friend Timothy is to him and how he’s longing for Timothy to come and see him and bring the cloak and bring the scrolls and everything else,[9] he’s just singing to himself,

Hey, ain’t it good to know that you’ve got a friend.
People can be so cold.
They’ll hurt you and desert you.
They’ll take your soul if you let them.
Oh, now, don’t you let them.[10]

That’s exactly what had happened to him.

Now, you see, we don’t have a picture of the apostle Paul here nearing the end of his life as a bronzed, highly successful, good-looking evangelist who’s living in a villa on the Adriatic Coast—somebody that people would like to hang around with: “Can’t wait to see you, Paul. You’re looking so good, and you’re being so successful, and you’re so magnificent.” “Where did you say you are? Aha! Oh, yes, I heard somebody had seen him, and he didn’t look very good. In fact, the one thing you don’t want him to do is take his shirt off, because if he takes his shirt off, you’ll see his back.” And he bears in his body the marks of suffering for Jesus Christ. No, people will only want to hang around with successful people, with victorious people, with triumphant people, not with jailbirds. So, “Don’t be ashamed of the message, the testimony about Jesus, and don’t be ashamed of me, the messenger of Jesus.”

“Suffering for the Gospel”

Secondly—and it follows on, doesn’t it?—“I have borne hardship for the gospel, and I invite you to do the same, Timothy.” “Share in suffering for the gospel.” In the NIV: “Join with me in suffering.” In J. B. Phillips’s paraphrase, which I found particularly helpful: “Accept, as I do, all the hardship that faithfulness to the Gospel entails.”

Now, Paul could never be accused of sugarcoating the thing, could he? This is no soft sell. He’s on about this from the very beginning. Here in verse 8: “Share in suffering.” In verse 12: “This is why I am suffering.”[11] You go into 2:3: once again, “Share in suffering as a good soldier.” In verse 9, he’s back about his own experience: “… for which I am suffering, bound with chains as a criminal.” And in chapter 4, as he’s beginning to wrap things up, he encourages him to “be sober-minded” and to “endure suffering.”[12] Why? Well, “for [the sake of] the gospel by the power of God.”[13] And those prepositions are important. I want you to notice them. “Share in suffering”—here’s the first preposition—“for the gospel.” And then the second preposition: “by the power of God.” Why am I to suffer? Because of your relationship with the gospel. How are you to manage it? By the power of God.

Once again, look at them in turn: “suffering for the gospel.” Now, think about this. Think about how important it is to understand the nature of the gospel and to be able to distinguish between a gospel which calls for this kind of commitment—where Jesus says, “If a man wants to be my disciple, he should take up his cross every day and come and follow me; and if he’s not prepared to do that, then frankly, he shouldn’t become my disciple”[14]—and distinguish between that and a spurious gospel, which is out there and is available routinely, which says to people, “If you come to this, if you trust in this, then you will be able to transcend hardship. You will be able to overcome suffering. You will be able to enter into all of the joys and experiences of a week that is made up with ‘Every day’s a Friday!’” Right? Or that you will be able to discover that this is “your best life now.”

Now, let me ask you a question: When you hear something like that, do you say to yourself, “I wonder how that worked with Jesus of Nazareth?” Because you should. Because if the story doesn’t work with Jesus, it doesn’t work. So Jesus had his best life now, did he? “He was a man of sorrows, and he was acquainted with grief, and we hid our faces from him, and he was despised, and we esteemed him not.”[15] And finally, they nailed him up on a cross after he had agonized in the garden of Gethsemane.

How does it work for the apostles? How’s it going with “your best life now,” Saul of Tarsus, now that your life has been turned upside down and you’ve become a follower of Jesus? You used to be coming from such a wealthy and significant background. You were so full of the wisdom of your background and your culture. You were a genius. Now look at you! You’re a jailbird. You’re a complete disaster. You’ve been shipwrecked, you’ve been beaten, and now you’re ending your life in obscurity, asking for some guy who’s your friend to come and help you and bring you scrolls and a cloak because you’re freezing. What a sorry end! What kind of testimony is this to this gospel? The answer is this is no testimony at all, because it’s not the gospel. How could he encourage Timothy to come and share in suffering for a gospel that was about no suffering? It wouldn’t make any sense, would it?

Now, loved ones, you’re going to have to think this out—and I’m glad that you’re sensible so you can do that. Because we need to hold in tension what the Bible makes clear about what is immediately ours to know in Jesus and what is ultimately ours to experience. Look at how his letter has begun here: “Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God according to the promise of the life that is in Christ Jesus.” What is “the life that is in Christ Jesus”? It is eternal life. “The wages of sin is death; … the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.”[16] As he begins his letter to Titus, he begins it in the exact same way. In the second verse, he’s talking about the wonder of what God has done in bringing to us eternal life.

Eternal life begins now, but the promises of the gospel are largely concerned with the future.

Now, we know that eternal life begins when we turn to Jesus in repentance and in faith. We’re going to discover tonight that Jesus has “abolished death,” and he has “brought life and immortality to light through the gospel.”[17] But the great promises of the gospel are going to be fulfilled in the future, not in the present. Now, let me say to you again: eternal life begins now, but the promises of the gospel are largely concerned with the future.

And that is why, incidentally, this message does not play well to the current generation. Somebody, totally unrelated to this series, gave me a book this week called Families and Faith: How Religion Is Passed Down across Generations. It’s from Oxford University Press. It’s a pretty tough book. I started to read it. But these are the questions that are being asked: “To what extent are families able to pass on their religious faith to the next generation in today’s rapidly changing society?” “How has this changed over the past several decades, in the context of the remarkable cultural, familial, and religious change in American society?” And three: “Why are some families able to achieve their goal of transmitting their faith to their children while others are not?”[18] That’s the question. It’s a longitudinal study that has gone on over forty years with the research that I’m about to consider as I read it on my own.

But one of the things that struck me in the early part of it was identifying the present generation as being a generation that believes that “‘instant gratification is merely a click of a mouse away,’ a view they apply ‘to every area of their life, including religion.’”[19] Instant gratification is just a click away. So if you’re going to try and reach this generation, you’d better tell them that they can have it all now. They’re not interested in the then. There is no then. There is no tomorrow. It’s all instantaneous. It’s all right now: “Answer me now.” “Text me back immediately.” “Give me money now.” “Answer my challenges now.” And the gospel has many of its answers way out and beyond us.

If you think about it, in Paul’s case, the way in which he deals with what assails him is in the awareness of what awaits him. Right? He deals with what assails him on the basis of what awaits him: “I am presently in a dungeon. That’s not nice. Wouldn’t be my first choice of accommodation. Apparently, they’re planning to execute me and take off my head. I’m not looking forward to that either. But Timothy, I need you to know—and I need to remind myself—that there is a crown laid up for me, and not only for me but also for all who love the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ.”[20] I almost can’t wait to get to the end of chapter 4, because the irony is fantastic. Nero is going to take his head off—but he has a crown waiting for him.

Do you understand this? And when you think about it in relationship to your own particular sufferings, strivings, hopes, fears, and so on, you realize that the best of theology and the best of hymnody (and the best of hymnody is good theology) will affirm the end of the story as giving significance to the nature of the journey.

Now, one of my favorite hymn writers for children is Cecil Frances Alexander. She wrote “All Things Bright and Beautiful” to teach the doctrine of creation. She wrote “There Is a Green Hill Far Away” to teach the doctrine of the atonement. And she wrote “Once in Royal David’s City” to teach the story of the incarnation:

Once in royal David’s city
Stood a lowly cattle shed,
Where a mother [for] her baby
In a manger [laid] his bed,

and so on. She then goes on to say that

He came down to earth from heaven,
Who is God and Lord of all.

She then goes on to say,

[And] he is our childhood’s pattern;
[And] day by day, like us he grew.

And she then goes on to say,

And our eyes at last shall see him,
Through his own redeeming love.[21]

You see, the importance of the end of the story to the experience of the journey is absolutely vital. It doesn’t negate the reality of the suffering. It doesn’t say there’s no suffering. It doesn’t say you get out of suffering. It says you have to remember as you share in suffering for the gospel that the story of God’s work is such a story that it transcends time; it transcends our tiny little lives; it is beyond the scope of the things that threaten to undo us even today. And sometimes all you can actually do is fasten onto that, hold on to that.

That’s why the hymn by Spafford that we sang earlier does the same thing, doesn’t it?

When peace, like a river,
Attend[s] my way…

Though Satan should buffet,
[And] trials should come,

as they inevitably do,

My sin—oh, the bliss of
This glorious thought—
My sin, not in part…

He’s starting to think now: the great verities of life. And then what does he say?

And Lord, haste the day
When my faith shall be sight.[22]

This isn’t the end of the story.

You were made purposefully for a relationship with God. That relationship is broken because of sin. Christ has come in order to bring about that reconciliation. He brings about that reconciliation and does not free us from the rigors and the challenges and the changes and the upsets and the difficulties of life that inevitably come our way. But he reminds us that his ability to provide for us is commensurate with our need.

God knows that there are lessons you can learn with a thorn in your side that you can’t learn without it.

And with that we will finish, because that’s essentially what he says: “Join with me in suffering. Share in suffering for the gospel.” How am I going to do it? “By the power of God.” “By the power of God.” Well, that ought to be a great encouragement to those of us who have said to ourselves this week, “I don’t think I’m strong enough for this.” You said that this week about something? “I don’t think I’ll be able to see this through. I don’t know if I’m emotionally strong enough, spiritually strong enough. I just don’t know if I can do it. How am I going to do this?” “By the power of God.”

That was Paul’s experience, wasn’t it? He proved again and again that the provision of God was commensurate with his need. And that’s why we love 2 Corinthians, I think, as much as any section from Paul, when he comes right up against it, and he has this thorn on his flesh which he asked God three times to take it away: “I’d like you to take it away.” And God says, “I know you would, but I won’t.”[23] Well, what kind of God is this? A God who knows what he’s doing. A God who knows that there are lessons you can learn with a thorn in your side that you can’t learn without it. And listen to how Paul then responds to it: he says, “This is what God said to me.” He said, “My grace is enough for you: for where there is weakness, my power is shown the more completely.” And so he concludes, “My very weakness makes me strong in him.”[24] “My weaknesses mean a deeper experience of the power of Christ.”

And what he knew for himself as he writes to the Corinthians he prayed for the Colossians as follows: “As you live this new life,” he writes to the Colossians,

we pray that you will be strengthened from God’s boundless resources, so that you[’ll] find yourselves able to pass through any experience and endure it with courage. You will even be able to thank God in the midst of pain and distress because you[’re] privileged to share the lot of those who are living in the light. For we must never forget that he rescued us from the power of darkness, and re-established us in the kingdom of his beloved Son, that is, in the kingdom of light. For it is by his Son alone that we have been redeemed and have had our sins forgiven.[25]

You see how so very quickly he goes again to the gospel, to the issues that really matter. And he’s about to do the same thing here, but we have to leave it for later. Because you will notice how he then transitions in verse 9: “Share in suffering for the gospel by the power of God,” and it is this God, notice, “who saved us and called us to a holy calling,” and he didn’t do it because we were so bright and so hardworking, but he did it “because of his own purpose and [of his] grace,” and so on. And it is to that we will return.

But let me end by saying to you this morning: resist like the plagues of Egypt all these spurious gospels which hold out for you instantaneous deliverance and transformation. They’re neither true to the Bible, nor are they true to human experience. And some of you—some of us—need to bring the things that represent suffering in our lives this morning as if they were just “Here it is. I’m suffering relationally, I’m suffering physically, I’m suffering emotionally, I’m suffering psychologically, I’m suffering spiritually, and I want to make the truth of your Word my own.”

David Wells, in his new book, God in the Whirlwind, says, “There are no shortcuts …. The knowledge of God is … a lifetime pursuit, not an instantaneous download.”[26] “The knowledge of God is a lifetime pursuit, not an instantaneous download.” And part of our problem is that we’ve been seduced into thinking that it is an instantaneous download. And therefore, if we can’t have it now and if we can’t fix it this quickly and if we can’t move on, then something must be dreadfully wrong. No, something might be wonderfully right.

I remember around this time of year, my grandmother used to get—I think it was hyacinth bulbs. And we would put them under her bed. I don’t know why. But let’s say we came home with them, and we put them under the bed, and she said that they would bloom, and there would be a beautiful fragrance. Well, she hadn’t left the room a minute before I’m under the bed. And then I come back: “No, it’s not… There’s nothing. I can’t see a thing, Gran. There’s nothing there.” “Trust me, son: in its time.”

And the promise of God is that he makes everything beautiful in his time,[27] so that all the mountains we’ve got to climb and all the burdens we’ve got to bear and all the challenges we’ve got to take onboard have got to be set within the overarching reality of God’s redeeming grace. Some of us need just to lay our burdens down. The most worthwhile things in life often only come to flower over a long period of time. William Barclay asked one of his friends, “How did your mother get those soft and tender and engaging eyes?” And his friend replied, “I think it was when my little brother died at the age of three.”

Father, you know our hearts today. You know our needs, and we have your Word, and we’re thankful for it—thankful for the realism of Paul, thankful that there’s nothing superficial or treacly about this, nothing that makes us feel uncomfortable, as if we were being sold a bill of goods by some less-than-scrupulous salesman. But there is a ring of authenticity to this: “Come on, now, Timothy. Do not be ashamed of the message. Don’t be ashamed of me. But share in suffering for the gospel of God by the power of God.” Help us to that end, we pray. For Jesus’ sake. Amen.

[1] Donald Guthrie, The Pastoral Epistles: An Introduction and Commentary (Grand Rapids: Tyndale, 1957), 127.

[2] See 2 Timothy 4:3.

[3] 1 Corinthians 13:7 (ESV).

[4] Rudyard Kipling, “If—” (1910).

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

[6] 2 Timothy 4:5 (paraphrased from the KJV). See also Titus 2:6 (KJV).

[7] 1 Timothy 2:5 (ESV).

[8] William Booth, In Darkest England and the Way Out (Chicago: Charles H. Sergel, 1890), 57–58.

[9] See 2 Timothy 4:13.

[10] Carole King, “You’ve Got a Friend” (1971). Lyrics lightly altered.

[11] 2 Timothy 1:12 (paraphrased).

[12] 2 Timothy 4:5 (ESV).

[13] 2 Timothy 1:8 (ESV).

[14] Matthew 16:24; Mark 8:34; Luke 9:23 (paraphrased).

[15] Isaiah 53:3 (paraphrased).

[16] Romans 6:23 (KJV).

[17] 2 Timothy 1:10 (KJV).

[18] Vern L. Bengston, Families and Faith: How Religion Is Passed Down across Generations, with Norella M. Putney and Susan Harris (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013), 11.

[19] Mike Hayes, Googling God: The Religious Landscape of People in Their 20s and 30s (New York: Paulist, 2007), quoted in Bengston, Families and Faith, 10.

[20] 2 Timothy 4:8 (paraphrased).

[21] Cecil Frances Alexander, “Once in Royal David’s City” (1848).

[22] Horatio Gates Spafford, “When Peace Like a River” (1876).

[23] See 2 Corinthians 12:8.

[24] 2 Corinthians 12:9–10 (Phillips).

[25] Colossians 1:11–14 (Phillips).

[26] David C. Wells, God in the Whirlwind: How the Holy-Love of God Reorients Our World (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2014), 38.

[27] See Ecclesiastes 3:11.