2 Timothy 1:1–18

This is the last of all Paul's writings. His own life was about to be poured out in martyrdom for Christ's sake, and so he pours out his heart to his beloved child Timothy. We could not expect this in any letter but a personal one. There is a simplicity and reality here that is beautiful. He felt these sorrows keenly: all in Asia turned away from him (ch. 1:15); others overthrew the faith of some by false doctrine (ch. 2:17, 18); and even those closer to him deserted him when he stood before the Roman Emperor (ch. 4:10, 16). Yet the calm triumph of faith shines out brightly all through this letter.

In other letters he presented himself as a "servant" (Rom. 1:1; Phil. 1:1; Titus 1:1). But here he views himself in his apostolic character, as one sent and commissioned by the Lord Himself. As such he had authority — an authority that no unfaithfulness in others could cancel. He might be, as indeed he was, forsaken, if not refused, by many; but the authority entrusted to him survived. The same is true today about gift. Wherever a gift is present, the privilege and responsibility to use it remain, even if the saints do not acknowledge it.

The words "according to" hold their more ordinary sense here. They mean "in keeping with", rather than "in order to bring about" or "with a view to the fulfilment". They do not state the object and intention of the apostleship, but its character... Timothy never needed that comforting, strengthening knowledge of life more than he did in view of the horrors and dangers this letter looks at — and neither do the faithful. If anything is real in a world of empty show, it is the life which is in Christ; it is eternal, and it is meant to overcome by faith.

Jesus Christ sent Paul to serve in this world of death, with the fulfilment of the promise of life in view — the life we see in all its fulness in Christ Jesus in glory. As so often with the Apostle Paul, he views "life" in its fulness in glory, and in this sense he can speak of it as a promise. No ruin of the church can touch this life that is in Christ Jesus and that belongs to every believer.

In nature life is an immense force, but the life in Christ Jesus is unconquerable. Every form of natural life meets its match in the end, and DEATH conquers it — the life of Adam, which is human life, included. The life in Christ is beyond the reach of death. He became the Fountain-head of life to others as One who had died and risen again. God promised that life before the world began (see Titus 1:2) and brought it to light in the gospel. Its full fruit will appear in ages yet to come.

This life is unchanging, secured in Christ Jesus by the unchangeable promise of God. That thought was bound to bring powerful comfort to his soul. It is well to keep these two things distinct. As to life and salvation, God will keep every believer through faith by His power (see 1 Peter 1:3-5). But the place of testimony can be lost, and often is. A group or a single believer may forfeit it through unfaithfulness, or by giving in to the influences of this present evil age.

The older translation reads "To Timothy, my dearly beloved son." More exactly it is "[my] beloved child." In the first letter Paul calls him "[my] true child in the faith," marking him out as one who walked in Paul's own footsteps as to the truth. Here Paul expresses his own heart for the one who had served with him in the gospel, as a son serves with his father. The Apostle's heart truly clung to Timothy at such a moment of sorrow. Pouring out his heart like this became the basis for the appeals and urgings he was about to make to his beloved child. The method is divine. It is always God's way to show the depth of His love for His people before He gives them words of guidance or correction.

It is precious to see how the pressure of affliction draws out the heart's affections all the more. Here the apostle addresses Timothy as "my beloved child," and not, as in the first letter, "my true child in the faith." This would surely comfort and strengthen Timothy's heart at such a time.

Paul wishes Timothy "grace," the divine favour that is enough to lift a person above any circumstances. He wishes him "mercy," God's compassion shown to him inside those circumstances. And he wishes him "peace," the calm of soul God gives, so that he can walk through everything in unbroken, untroubled communion with the Lord Jesus. This blessing rests on the unity of the Father and the Son. It comes from no other source, and there it is found perfectly.

When the Holy Spirit sends greetings to churches, He never mentions mercy. He says only "grace and peace." But when He addresses an individual, He adds "mercy." That word assumes the need, the constant wants, the difficulties, the trials and the dangers of individual believers. Timothy was in Ephesus, with savage wolves attacking from outside and false teachers rising inside. He needed mercy, so that he would be kept. As the days grow darker and the turning away from the faith grows plainer, individual believers need mercy upon mercy, to stand and to hold their ground.

Grace refers more to the source and character of the sentiment; mercy to the state of the person who is its object. Grace may give me glory; mercy contemplates some need in me. Mercy is great in the greatness of the need; grace in the thought of the person exercising it.

Grace is the general word for that energy and outflow of divine goodness which rises above the evil and ruin of men, and loves despite it all. That is why it rightly comes first in the greeting every time, whether the letter goes to a gathering of believers or to individual believers. "Mercy" then takes its proper place, asking God to look with pity on individual weakness, need, or danger. So it appears not only in 1 and 2 Timothy, but also, unusually and for a special purpose, in Jude.

The dear apostle was beginning to feel the chilling influence that was fast creeping over the professing church. He was tasting the bitterness of disappointed hopes. Many deserted him. They had once claimed to be his friends and partners in that glorious work to which he had given all the energy of his great soul. They were becoming "ashamed of the testimony of our Lord, and of His prisoner." They did not stop being Christians altogether, or give up the Christian profession. But they turned their backs on Paul, and left him alone in the day of trial.

Paul had served God, from his forefathers, with pure conscience, before he had known a fellow Christian. This he could continue to do though deserted by all his Christian companions.

He had served God, following in the steps of his forefathers, with a pure conscience. In every way he was a vessel made for honour. For more than one generation his ancestors showed a good conscience. Their personal devotion, founded on the truth, showed itself in the service of God. Paul was not judging the inward condition of each generation here. He was describing their character.

The apostle thanks God — the same God he had served from his forefathers. This recognizes the truth he had known before Christianity came, the truth he had obeyed "with pure conscience."

Paul could speak of serving God from his forefathers with a pure conscience. That is, he never defiled his conscience by doing what he knew to be wrong. He was true to the light he had. Yet, as he admits elsewhere, his light was once so poor that he opposed Christ with conscientious zeal.

Before his conversion Paul had a pure conscience. He even persecuted the church without his conscience condemning him. But when he came into the presence of the Lord, on the road to Damascus, he discovered that his pure conscience had not been a reliable guide. Only when the conscience is pure in the presence of God can we rely on it to guide us rightly.

The subject of the Apostle's thanksgiving is, "that without ceasing I have remembrance of you in my prayers night and day." It is a striking way to put it, and few believers would say it that way. Perhaps we are less mindful than he was that we depend entirely on the grace of God for the power to remember anyone constantly in prayer. So Paul gives thanks that he had been able to bear up Timothy before the Lord. That is a sure sign too, since he wrote these words under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, that Timothy needed his prayers.

Paul did not simply pray for Timothy for a few days after leaving him, and then forget: it was a continuing matter. Night is mentioned first, before day. No doubt this shows that he passed through times of darkness and loneliness without cooling the warmth of prayer, and that in the more pleasant circumstance of "day" he did not neglect it either.

It was not merely a gracious affection for his sorrowing and anxious fellow-worker; he had the remembrance of Timothy in his prayers unceasingly, while night and day he longed to see him. Both were true. One cannot imagine a grosser delusion than that faith destroys affection.

The ordinary Greek word for longing is never used in the New Testament. A preposition is added to it, which gives the idea of "straining after" the thing longed for. One writer translates it "yearning"; another calls it "homesick longing." ... Paul, in the dungeon at Rome, passionately longed to see Timothy.

We are not told what made Timothy weep. It was probably at some parting — perhaps when he said goodbye to Paul, leaving him in prison, and went off to his own service. Whenever it was, it shows that Paul's affection was fully returned. No ordinary tie bound the hearts of these two servants of the Lord together.

Circumstances of pressure and sorrow had the precious effect of drawing out the longing of Paul's heart to see Timothy. Timothy's very character was such as to be a comfort to him. And his tears — no doubt connected with the public breaking down of Christian testimony, and departure from Paul's teaching — affected Paul so deeply that he would not forget them.

Two leading things in Timothy drew out the love and confidence of Paul. First, he remembered his tears; second, he remembered his sincere faith. The tears of Timothy proved that he was a man of spiritual depth and affection, who felt the low and broken condition of those who profess Christ. His sincere faith proved that he was able to rise above all the evil, in obedience to God and with confidence in Him.

It was not only a gracious affection for his sorrowing and anxious fellow-worker. He also remembered Timothy in his prayers without ceasing, while night and day he longed to see him. Both were true. You could not imagine a greater delusion than the idea that faith destroys affection.

When in prison for Christ's sake, Paul knew what would bring joy to his heart... Timothy was like-minded, and had shed tears in sympathy with the Apostle. His coming would fill Paul's cup with joy. What an example this is for us! We can find our joy in the Lord, and in the things that are His. We find it too with those who can share with us the trials, exercises and sorrows that come with the path of reproach and testimony for the Lord.

The very remembrance of Timothy's tears filled Paul with joy. How would he feel about us? Would he turn from us sad and disappointed at our feeble faith and general shallowness of conviction and feeling? Depend on it: sincere faith, a pure conscience kept clean, and the deep spiritual feelings that express themselves in tears are huge assets for facing the difficulties and dangers of "the last days."

Timothy was not less dear to the apostle, but more dear, because he had passed through deep exercise and severe sifting. But he could not leave him under possible discouragement. He would not simply point him to those who had gone before him in faith, nor cheer himself in a general way. He adds, "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."

This gift was the special energy of the Holy Spirit imparted to Timothy. There is no reasonable doubt that it is the gift spoken of in 1 Tim. 4:14. There it came through prophecy, with the laying on of the hands of the body of elders; here, through the laying on of Paul's hands. The elders joined with Paul, but the power was in the apostle alone. God used him as the one channel of so great a gift. The difference between the prepositions "with" and "by" shows this.

We learn here also that Timothy received his gift in an exceptional way, by the putting on of Paul's hands. This is certainly extraordinary. The Spirit of God normally gives gift by His own independent operation (1 Cor. 12:7-11). But in Timothy's case the Spirit of God used Paul as the instrument.

No one can imitate this case without an apostle and a properly chosen body of elders, not to speak of prophecy. And the claim to do so is a harmful pretence, unless the power is there to give the gift that was given then.

To "stir up" the gift means to stir it into a "flame," to "rekindle" it. God had used Paul as the instrument in giving a gift to Timothy. This gift needed rekindling. The danger of decline, which was already starting to show itself, is clear from this exhortation. The rekindling of a gift needs constant use of the Word of God and fellowship with the Lord, as well as a prayerful exercise of the gift itself.

It was a true gift that was in him, and yet he still needed to rekindle it. That is a strong word. It shows the need we have even about what God Himself has given. Contact with the things around us tends to dull our very sense of the gift within. So we need to keep turning to God, so that the gift stays in the divine energy that alone suits it.

Then comes the danger to the servant of the Lord. He sees that people no longer receive his ministry. So he is tempted to retire, to fall silent, or to decide with Jeremiah not to speak in the Lord's name to the people any more (Jer. 20:9). Paul knew Timothy's heart and the way he leaned. So he guards him against this trap. He urges him to rouse himself, and by constant use to stir up the gift he had received to correct and build up the Lord's people.

There are difficulties, dangers and general unfaithfulness, and the ministry seems to show little result. Then comes the danger of thinking it is almost useless to use gift. So we need the warning against letting the gift fall into disuse. We are to stir it up; and, in a day of ruin, to be all the more insistent in its use.

The first clause, which might be rendered the spirit of "cowardice," reveals Timothy's special weakness. He evidently was a man, like Jeremiah, of a timid, shrinking spirit — one who only with difficulty, unless under the sway of the Holy Spirit, could face dangers and opponents. But while the servant of the Lord "must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil" (chap. 2:24), he must also be as bold as a lion in the defence of the truth, and in maintaining the honour of his Lord.

That is not the Holy Spirit exactly, but it could not be apart from His indwelling. The indwelling Spirit imparts to us this three-fold character, apart from which we cannot stand in the evil day... Power without love might be ruthless, and love without the sound mind might be weakness.

The gift may remain even in one who is unfaithful or indifferent; but the power to use it will not be present unless its possessor is walking in dependence upon God, unless he lives in the acknowledgment that power is outside of himself, and in the realization of his own utter weakness.

For whatever we have to do, or whatever we may have to bear in this world, we can always count on abundance of power from on high... The power is His, but this power is exercised on earth by means of His servants.

It is not mere power, which might be used for the destruction of His beloved saints; it is the spirit also of love — love that sacrifices itself for the good of its objects, and counts that sacrifice an unspeakable privilege... It does not hesitate to reprove, rebuke, and exhort; but it prefers to encourage, comfort, console, and intercede on their behalf.

When governed by the Spirit of God, the servant will always show divine wisdom in his work, and be kept in quiet control and subduedness in the presence of God. He will know when to speak and when to be silent, when to be in season and when to be out of season; for he will be maintained in communion with the mind of his Lord.

You could not have a better illustration of a sound mind than that... It is the touch of the great Physician and His word that heals the mind. The sound mind thinks soberly; the man who has it is not puffed up by his knowledge; he puts Christ first, and considers His glory and not his own interest.

From 2 Timothy 1:6-8, we gather that Timothy was timid and held back by nature. That is why Paul urged him to stir up the gift he had received. Paul reminded him of the power and love which were his by the Spirit of God. So Timothy was not to be ashamed of the testimony, nor of Paul in his imprisonment. All these instructions were not put on record for the sake of Timothy alone. They are for the help and instruction of every Christian young man from that day to this.

Not to be "ashamed of the testimony of the Lord" is the testimony itself — not what it was. He was not to be ashamed of bearing witness to Christ the Lord. Paul was in prison for it; Timothy was not to be ashamed because shame was put on the man who had borne the witness... How many stayed with the blessed Lord when He was taken, or with Paul even when he was?... The testimony reduces itself to its simplest elements — not being ashamed of Christ, set before the world in testimony.

Notice too that the man who carries the testimony is identified with the testimony. That is why the apostle adds, "Nor of me his prisoner." Many claim to hold and love the truth, yet they would prefer to stand apart from the people the testimony is entrusted to. As our passage shows, this can never be according to the mind of God. It would have displeased Him just as much if Timothy had been ashamed of Paul as if he had been ashamed of the testimony.

When the tide of blessing is at the full there is little or no room for shame. It is very different when few are gathered in and the love of many grows cold, when the world grows harder and more scornful and the saints cower under its insults... The testimony may look like a failure, but it is still the testimony of our Lord. And the suffering witness, held unjustly by human authority, is His prisoner... Grace joined the witness, who may not be perfect, to His testimony, which is perfect... We are not called to suffer or to bear shame for anything but Christ.

"Suffer evil along with the gospel." The gospel is pictured here almost as a person. Timothy is urged to throw in his lot with it completely, whatever the cost, so that he also carries any reproach that falls on it.

This is only possible "according to the power of God." Here, as in Colossians 1:11, power is connected not with what is active but with what is passive — suffering.

What! Share in afflictions? Yes. Share in being delivered from feeling them? No — share in afflictions that a man really feels, but "according to the power of God!" This does not mean he stops feeling the pressure of sorrow and weakness. Paul had a "thorn in the flesh" (2 Cor. 12). Did he not feel it, do you think? Yes, he felt it daily... The power of God coming in on our side does not lessen the feeling.

The mention of God's power leads the Apostle back and upward to the source of all the blessing that was flowing out through the gospel: to God's purpose and grace. That purpose is the unchanging foundation on which God was working. It is also the assurance that no effort of the enemy could stop God from carrying out His thoughts.

It is plain that the first great object of the gospel is our salvation... Not only has God saved us; we also read that He has "called us to a holy calling." This passage calls it "a holy calling." Scripture also calls it "the heavenly calling" (Hebrews 3:1) and "the upward call" (Philippians 3:14). Salvation sets us free from our sins and from this world under judgment. The calling links us with heaven and with all the spiritual blessings God has purposed for us in the heavenly places in Christ.

But God "saved us and called us to a holy calling." Here "holy" carries the weight. It suits this letter and the conditions it has in view. The calling was always holy, but now it was urgent to press its "holy" character. It is a calling on high, or upward, as we read in Philippians 3:14. It stands in contrast with the earthly things in which men find their glory, to their shame. It is a heavenly calling, as we see in Hebrews 3:1... But now, as those who bore the Lord's name were sliding into decline, the apostle binds God's salvation together with His holy calling. An evil time is not a time for lowering the standard. It is a time for unveiling it and pressing its importance.

These precious words, "His own purpose and grace," stand far above and beyond man's works! No one was there to influence His purpose. No one had ever lived to raise a question about what sort of life would be blessed with His grace. No — it is the grace of God, known and believed, that gives a man's life its right shape.

There are good works in every saint: "For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them" (Ephesians 2:10)... Still, God's salvation rests on Christ's work, not ours.

This, too, was given to us in Christ Jesus before the ages of time began. It is a most weighty and blessed truth. It does not mean only that our security is guaranteed without end. It means that grace was given in Christ Jesus before time began. It was not so with Israel: God called them in time. God's purpose about us Christians was in eternity, before any creature existed... Their blessing was a plan bound up with Christ before the world existed, and before any question of creature responsibility came in... so we are all the more bound to walk, here and now, as He walked.

This is not a question of election here, even if election is involved. The point is that God gave us a place in Christ — the sovereign calling — before the world began, and did not reveal it until Christ came.

It is not merely security assured without end, but grace given in Christ Jesus before time began. It was not so with Israel: they were called in time. God's purpose about us, Christians, was in eternity before any creature existed.

This appearance is not only about His birth. It also covers His life, His death at Golgotha, His resurrection, His ascension, and the coming of the Holy Spirit on earth. This is what Paul has in mind in 2 Timothy 1:10.

"He abolished death": no stronger word could be used. It means that death has been brought to nothing — entirely ended — set aside. When what is all-powerful comes in, clearly everything in its way must give place. It pushes out what filled the space before. So Christ has displaced, abolished, death.

This Scripture presents our Saviour as having abolished death. Death is pictured here as a person, as sin is in Romans 7. Of course this does not mean that men no longer die as a fact. It means He has annulled the title of death as regards His own. Hebrews 2 declares the same: He took part in flesh and blood, "that through death He might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil." But He has done more: through the Gospel He has brought to light life and incorruption — the body is in question there, and not the soul only.

What then has the gospel brought to light? Two things which had been hidden until now — life and incorruptibility. Note, incorruptibility, not immortality (it is the same word as in 1 Corinthians 15:53). There was no doubt about immortality; that had been known before. But the gospel now brings incorruptibility to light, along with life. If we do not see this, we do not see the depth of what was in God's heart.

Immortality is not the word here. People in Old Testament times already believed that the soul of man survived death and that resurrection lay ahead. Job's words here show it, and the Lord made it plain in His dispute with the Sadducees of His day. One thing was not made known: for the believer, resurrection will mean entry into a new and incorruptible order of things.

It is not said or meant that either was completely hidden. Enough was suggested for the faith of God's elect to show that resurrection and heaven were in His mind, and not earthly blessing only... The Gospel does not speak of life and incorruptibility as entirely unknown before. On the contrary, it assumes they were partly seen, gleaming here and there through the darkness. Now they stand out in bold relief, the grand theme of gospel testimony, as seen in the person of the Lord Jesus.

When he wrote this second letter to Timothy, he was in Nero's hands; but he was not troubled in the least. Why? Because he had such a full sense of what the grace of God was... He did not think about what Nero could do to him. He was occupied with what was in God's mind before the world began.

We may die; we do not have to. We may meet it as the providential dealing of an infinitely wise God — not as wrath, not as penalty... It is "to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better" — to be "away from the body and at home with the Lord."

No wonder the apostle, imprisoned in Rome for the gospel's sake, and expecting his blood to be poured out soon like a drink offering (2 Tim. 4:6), adds with triumphant thankfulness, "for which I was appointed a preacher and apostle and teacher [of the Gentiles]." A few important manuscripts leave out "of the Gentiles." Given the character of this letter, I think that is probably right.

Paul was the herald, the apostle, and the teacher of this truth. As the herald he was the one who cried out this message, as an apostle he had authority to bring this message, and as a teacher he explained it in all its details.

God has made this gospel known to us in all its fullness through a specially appointed vessel — one who comes to us as Apostle of Jesus Christ to the Gentiles. So it reaches us on sufficient authority, through an Apostle who speaks by revelation and inspiration.

We must take note of Paul's appointment here: the Spirit of God required this to be pressed home. It was no mere appointment by men, and it is not meant as a pattern for others to follow. With Timothy, nothing at all is said about his being appointed to anything. We are not even told what gift Timothy had, though Paul tells him to stir it up and to "do the work of an evangelist" (ch. 4:5). But God gave Paul the special responsibility of "laying the foundation," as "a wise master builder" (1 Cor. 3:10)... As Scripture often notes, so here again, God sent Paul to the nations, not to Israel, though his heart longed after his own people (Rom. 10:1).

Of this good news Paul was a herald, an apostle, and teacher of the nations. In this he was the most honoured man on earth. The grace of the heavenly Christ had subdued his stubborn will. What greater honour could a poor creature receive than to display that grace in the middle of a selfish world, and to light up the dark places of the earth with the knowledge of the salvation and love of a Saviour-God?

The apostle explains that he had been appointed as the herald and apostle of the gospel — not from man, as he tells the Galatians, nor by man, but by Jesus Christ and God the Father, who raised Him from the dead... His present sufferings came from his imprisonment (v. 8), from the opposition the gospel now met everywhere, and from being deserted by so many professed believers, and perhaps teachers (v. 15). He sees these sufferings as flowing out of the place he held in relation to the gospel.

People who reach for some place of official appointment or recognition are not usually the ones most ready to suffer persecution for Christ's sake. Paul had not wanted the place, but he was fully willing to suffer for Christ if it came to that. God put him in a position where he could not escape suffering.

It was his faithful testimony that made Paul suffer. No wrongdoing brought him into suffering and reproach. Imprisonment was only one of "these things" that this faithful servant had to suffer. Other sufferings hurt his sensitive heart even more. "These things" included the desertion of those he loved in Asia, where he had worked so long. Since he was suffering for his faithfulness as a servant of Jesus Christ, he can say, "I am not ashamed."

Was Paul then a man of iron constitution, a heart of oak that threw off every blow and wound as if it were never felt? His circumstances were as trying as his health was frail.

No tremor of fear or discouragement can pierce the armour of his confidence in the living God. It was not a matter of "what" he had believed, but "Whom." True doctrine is good, but only as it springs from Him who is true. He is the person who is the foundation of all truth, the living Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer and Upholder of all things.

"I know whom I have believed," 2 Tim. 1:12 — I have the inward conscious knowledge of who the person is.

Notice the order of the words — believing was the first act, and knowing was the result. The knowledge is inward. It is the fruit of faith and of faithfulness. It grows out of walking in rich fellowship through storm or sunshine, winter or summer. It is an acquaintance like that of one friend with another. Where there is faith there is the knowledge of God. When faithfulness follows, that knowledge grows deeper and more precious.

By "my deposit" we should understand all that I as a believer entrust to the safekeeping of God. It covers not only the security but the blessedness of the soul and the body, of the walk and the work. It takes in every question that could be raised about the past, present, or future.

It is as though he had deposited with God everything concerning himself. So there could be no doubt about its safety. In fact, who can doubt that in such hands the interest itself will multiply beyond measure?

If on the one hand we have a "deposit" (all our hopes of glory) with Christ, He on the other hand entrusts His servants with a deposit. What then is this good deposit? It cannot be eternal life, or salvation, for the keeping of that belongs to Christ Himself. So it is probably the truth. It is the truth handed to His servants as stewards, for them to keep faithfully while they serve in the prospect of that day.

In the light of "that day" Paul can pass triumphantly through "this day" with all its insults, scorn and shame. We may wonder why the devoted Apostle was allowed to be deserted and opposed even by the saints. We shall not wonder in "that day." Then every wrong will be put right. Then all the shame and suffering and reproach will prove to bring praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ.

Man may kill the body and can do no more. Knowing this, the Apostle was sure the Lord could and would keep what he had committed to Him until that day. Until then he could trust the Lord for his own salvation and eternal happiness, and also for the recompense of his service. The enemy could do nothing with such a man, because his hopes and joys were outside the scene through which he moved.

The deposit here, as in 2 Timothy 1:14, means the truth God entrusted through the people He chose. It is God's revelation, given in words taught by the Holy Spirit. It is the pattern of sound words that Timothy heard from Paul in front of many witnesses. It is not the soul or its salvation. It is not the office of a minister. It is not even the grace of the Spirit. It is the perfect communication of what God is in His nature, His ways, His relationships, and His purposes.

So the question is this: what is the good deposit? It cannot be eternal life or salvation, because keeping that belongs to Christ Himself. So it is probably the truth — the truth put into the care of His servants — to be held by them in full faithfulness as they serve, looking on to that day.

In verse 12 the apostle rested with holy satisfaction in God keeping what he had entrusted to Him. Here is the other side. Timothy is called to keep what was entrusted to him, and God gives him help for it in the Holy Spirit who dwells in us. The Spirit given to us stays with us for ever. Our sins and foolishness may grieve Him, but since redemption He does not abandon the believer. When self-judgment clears the hindrance away, He is there to act in His own gracious power, for the glory of Christ Who sent Him down for this very purpose.

It is good to have the truth set out in an outline of sound words. Yet no such outline can keep the truth alive by itself. For that the Holy Spirit is needed. Without Him the sound words only embalm the truth. You can see this in some of the orthodox confessions, where the creed has been completely cut off from daily practice. But by the Spirit who lives in us the truth can be kept in its living power.

It is worth remembering this. If the Lord sends us on any service, or sets us to defend the truth in a hard day, He has given us power equal to every demand that can be made on us. We are too often taken up with a sense of our own weakness, instead of with the power we have through the Holy Spirit living in us.

Many people naturally enjoy conflict over the truth. They catch the scent of battle from far off with fierce joy. But I do not think the apostle is pointing to that hard spirit here. He is not speaking of quarrelling over the truth, or of the pleasure of winning an argument. He is speaking of guarding the deposit of truth by the Holy Spirit who lives in us.

It is only right that the Master should have interest on so valuable a deposit. Compare Luke 19:23. The one effective way of keeping this trust is to use it for the Master. But it is not ours to hand over to the enemy as we please. We must not let it be stolen away.

Yet every believer is called to keep the good deposit in this way, and all who fail to do so will suffer eternal loss of reward. This cannot be done in natural strength. Only as a person walks in the Spirit will the grace that is needed be given.

Through Paul's preaching, "all the residents of Asia heard the word of the Lord, both Jews and Greeks" (Acts 19:10). So they owed him a great deal. But now the aged and devoted Apostle was in prison, and they had lost their first love. The warmth of their zeal had cooled. They had become ashamed of God's chosen vessel of the truth.

What a change already since the beginning of the gospel! Think of the Thessalonians and the Ephesians. Ephesus was the capital of what is here called Asia. Paul had preached among these same people, so that all Asia had heard the gospel. And see how they had all now abandoned him!

It would be wrong to conclude that they had turned their backs on Christianity completely and stopped professing it. That was not the case. Their faith had grown weak. They had withdrawn from the apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ, because he had become a despised prisoner. By that act they showed too that they were leaving the great and blessed teachings the Apostle had preached to them.

They had certainly fallen in with the drift of this age. So they would be tempted to see Paul as an extreme man, as too narrow, as a zealot, as someone whose fanaticism put the progress of Christianity at risk. They turned away from him, looking for smoother paths, where the cross would be lighter.

Why? They were ashamed of him. They had given up the truth that Paul taught in particular. They had also given up Paul himself, and that might be the greater thing. Some were even ashamed of Paul's chain.

From the context I would judge that the apostle's imprisonment brought out this utterly shameful and guilty desertion. The enemy used the human shame heaped on the greatest servant of the church and of the gospel. These people were the rich fruit of his own work in divine power. Yet in spirit they in effect joined the world, cowering under its shame. Faith and love should have made them stand with the apostle in his suffering, as suffering that brought glory to the name of Jesus.

Scripture records their names, which shows they were well known. They were probably leaders among the believers, and so their example would lend approval to this unfaithful course. Perhaps the teaching of these men had adapted itself to the currents of the moment. The trends of any age always find a voice through some who claim the place of teachers.

Their desertion would prepare Timothy, and countless others, for what might be like it in kind and in time. Scripture records nothing in vain. It is true that we gain strength for the conflict by looking at the Captain of salvation, not at deserters. But it is good to be ready for what has already happened, for what might happen, and for what the same causes are sure to bring about again and again.

But the turning away from Paul was not absolutely complete even in Asia. There was at least one bright exception. God in His grace always uses a time of general evil to bring out unusual faithfulness and devotion… The contrast helps much, and clearly, to show us where the general defection lay. And the Lord repaid the house of Onesiphorus, with compound interest, for the grace He had given to its head.

The turning away from Paul was not absolutely complete even in Asia. There was at least a bright exception. God always uses a time of general evil, in His grace, to bring out unusual faithfulness and devotion... The contrast helps a great deal to show us clearly where the general desertion lay. And the Lord repaid "the house of Onesiphorus", with compound interest, for the grace He had given to its head.

But Paul also singles out the crucial fact: "and was not ashamed of my chains." Love shows its truth, character, and power in the hour of need. How was it with "all who are in Asia"? They were clearly ashamed of it. Human prudence blamed the zeal for Christ that had caused it. A worldly spirit refused to be linked in any way with the imprisoned apostle. How did the Lord regard such selfish timidity? The Holy Spirit marks its baseness permanently on the everlasting page of Scripture.

The apostle's heart deeply appreciates the simple faithfulness of this dear man. He clearly had no place of prominence, but he had a heart devoted to the Lord and to His suffering servant. He does no great public work. But he often refreshed the apostle, and he was not ashamed to be seen with a man in prison for Christ's sake... What an indication that things which may look small in our eyes are not really small in God's estimate!

There was one ray of light in the gloom of that moment. One small stream of comfort flowed into the apostle's heart from the heart of God, through His servant Onesiphorus... Precious to the weary soul of Paul were these cups of cold water that Onesiphorus put to his thirsty lips! And the Lord saw this blessed service, and counted it as done to Himself. "I was in prison and you came to me" (Matt. 25:36).

The whole household is linked with the loyalty of its head. The apostle commends the whole household to the mercy of the Lord for Onesiphorus's loyal and loving heart... the whole household shared the rejection with its head. This is as it should be. May it be so indeed in our households!

The apostle's prayer covers a present and a future blessing. He wants present mercy for the house of Onesiphorus. That is, he prays that the members of Onesiphorus's family and household might come into the enjoyment of present mercy in salvation. The apostle's heart was in communion with the heart of God, who told Noah to come into the ark with all his house, because He had seen that Noah was righteous in that generation (compare Acts 16:31)... "That day" refers to the Lord's appearing (see v. 12). Then He will display His own in glory, and He will also display the reward, in grace, of each of His servants.

It is strange that the apostle's prayer for the house of Onesiphorus is used as an authority for praying for the dead. The assumption that Onesiphorus had died is incorrect.

The desertion of the mass made the affection of the few all the more precious. When the great mass grieved the heart of Paul, there was at least one of whom he can say, "He often refreshed me." When others deserted him, there was still one of whom he can write, "he searched for me earnestly and found me."

Onesiphorus had also come to Rome, and he searched hard for Paul until he finally found him. There were many thousands of prisoners in Roman dungeons. We can well imagine how, day after day, Onesiphorus searched for his beloved brother, going from dungeon to dungeon until he found Paul. What a meeting that must have been!

How grateful Paul was to Onesiphorus, who often refreshed him, was not ashamed of his chain, and searched for him earnestly in Rome until he found him! Imagine that — attaching yourself to a man in a position of obscurity as well as dishonour… There may be a greater trial than standing alone for the truth. In some cases, joining yourself to others calls for a higher quality. The quality needed for the first position is courage; for the second, grace. You may not fear blows: do you fear derision?

What a precious contrast we see in this devoted brother Onesiphorus, his name written forever in the Word of God! The apostle deeply appreciates the simple faithfulness of this dear man. He clearly had no place of prominence, but he had a heart devoted to the Lord and to His afflicted servant. It is no great public work he does… In Rome he sought Paul out. That was surely hard in so large a city, where prisons were many. Anyone could excuse himself from such a task as unnecessary. But the apostle — and certainly God too — valued the faith that kept looking until it found Paul. What an indication that things which may appear small in our eyes are not really so in the estimate of God!

There was one ray of light in the gloom of that moment. One stream of comfort flowed into the heart of the Apostle from the heart of God, through His servant Onesiphorus… The Lord used him to bring refreshment to the captive Apostle… And the Lord saw this blessed service, and valued it as done to Himself. "I was in prison and you came to me" (Matt. 25:36).

When he was in Rome, he eagerly sought out the apostle and found him. God prospers earnest love for Christ's sake.

And has this not a word for us today? We stand and survey the ruin we ourselves have brought in. Is it not an essential part of faithfulness to seek Paul out very diligently and find him, speaking figuratively? And has the real Paul changed, either in doctrine or manner of life, or suffering? … The true "Paul" is as rejected today as then; and this is a solemn consideration for each of us.

The reference to Onesiphorus and his household is very touching. It proves that the indifference and desertion of the crowd did not make the Apostle overlook the love and kindness of one man and his family. In fact, the desertion of the crowd made the affection of the few all the more precious. When the great crowd grieved the heart of Paul, there was still one of whom he can say, "He often refreshed me." Others may be ashamed of him, but of this man he can say that he "was not ashamed of my chain." When others deserted him, there was still one of whom he can write, "He sought me out very diligently, and found me."

He asks for present mercy for the house of Onesiphorus. That is, he prays for the members of Onesiphorus' family, his household. He also prays that the Lord would grant Onesiphorus himself to find mercy from "the Lord on that day." "That day" refers to the Lord's appearing (see v. 12). Then He will display His own in glory, and then He will also show the reward, given in grace, of each of His servants. Onesiphorus had already received mercy in his salvation. But as he passed through the wilderness, he was "looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life" (Jude 21). And it is this, mercy in its full fruit and consummation, that Paul prays he may find in that day.

As to his finding "mercy from the Lord on that day," it is no doubt the day of rewards. And rewards are not strictly what is deserved: that would be wages. It is because God's very character is merciful that He gives rewards. Notice in Matthew 25:28 that the servant had gained ten talents for his master by using his master's goods. Yet after he brought them to the master, he still had them in his own possession. The master let him keep them, and in fact gave him more. This is certainly mercy, a reward not really deserved at all.

All the reward there is mercy, and it is well and needful to be reminded of it. So the apostle, after speaking of the self-forgetting love of Onesiphorus, who had refreshed and ministered to him in his chains at Rome, prays, "May the Lord grant him to find mercy from the Lord on that day" (2 Tim. 1:18). At our best, as at our worst, we are debtors to grace. Grace crowns, just as grace saves.

The closing statement shows that it was not the first time Onesiphorus had been of service to Paul. In Ephesus too he had ministered in many things to the Apostle, and the Spirit of God has caused it to be recorded here, as it is also recorded in heaven, to teach us that He marks and appreciates the slightest kindness shown to His servants in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ.

He found the deserted apostle: "may the Lord grant him to find mercy from the Lord on that day"! We are all waiting for this in faith (Jude 21). Still, the apostle's prayer is just as sweet and comforting. And that is not all. He appeals to Timothy, who knows very well how much service Onesiphorus rendered in Ephesus. The apostle does not limit that service to what was done for himself, as the Authorised Version and others do. The general phrase leaves room for what was personal, of course, but it means much more.

It is strange that the Apostle's prayer for the house of Onesiphorus is used as authority to pray for the dead. The assumption that Onesiphorus had died is incorrect.