But Tychicus I have sent to Ephesus.
Paul writes near the end of his life. He pauses to name the men around him: who has left, who is coming, who has been sent out. This one short line names Tychicus, and it raises a question. With so few helpers left, why send one of the best away — and why to Ephesus?
One commentator finds the difference in a single small word. Some translations open the verse with "but":
"But Tychicus I sent to Ephesus." The newer Revised Version is right here and the older Authorized Version wrong. The apostle draws a slight distinction, and "but" carries it, not "and." The others had gone on their own responsibility. The apostle sent Tychicus to Ephesus. Here again it is useless for us to guess the special purpose of his mission. We can be sure that faith in the Lord and love for the saints were the motives. But it is worth noticing the authority that sent him — an authority no one can claim now.
So the errand is hidden from us, but the willingness is not. Another writer links this trip to an earlier one:
The Apostle had apparently sent Tychicus to Crete earlier (Titus 3:12), and now he sent him to Ephesus. Tychicus was willing to serve under the direction of Christ's servant.
Tychicus appears again and again — in Paul's travels and in his letters:
A Christian from Asia who travelled with Paul on his last visit to Jerusalem. The apostle sent him from Rome to the Ephesians and to the Colossians. After Paul's release, Paul sent Tychicus to Ephesus again. Paul describes him as a beloved brother, a faithful minister and fellow-servant in the Lord. So he was just the sort of man Paul could send with confidence on these missions to 'encourage' the saints. Acts 20:4; Eph. 6:21; Col. 4:7; 2 Tim. 4:12; Titus 3:12.
Each title points to a different relationship — to the saints, to God, and to fellow workers:
The spiritual character of Tychicus clearly drew the love of the saints, and his ministry showed faithfulness to God. On top of that, his clear unity with other servants of the Lord earned him the name "fellow servant in the Lord." Let every servant of the Lord, whatever his ability or standing, aim at such a well-balanced character.
The choice of destination was deliberate. Ephesus lay in Asia, and everyone in Asia had turned away from Paul:
But Paul had sent Tychicus to Ephesus, and no doubt for a spiritual reason more important than keeping him at his side. If everyone in Asia, Ephesus included, had turned away from Paul (ch. 1:15), then Paul must have trusted this beloved servant to go on teaching Paul's doctrine even where everything was against him. How precious to see, too, that although these people had turned away from Paul, he would not give them up at all.
One writer notes when this errand happened — just before Paul's death:
Ephesus was still written on Paul's heart, for he said to Timothy, "Tychicus I have sent to Ephesus" (2 Tim. 4:12), and he wrote this very shortly before he died for his testimony.
The same writer notes who was left in Ephesus to welcome him:
Ephesus certainly had its faithful few... and they would be sure to give Tychicus a warm welcome as the representative of God's devoted servant and apostle. If Paul did not have the same place in their hearts, they still had the same place in his. Sending Tychicus proves how deeply he cared about them right to the end.
For Paul, this one line was cause for thanks, not loss:
The next mention is of a worker who gave Paul nothing but cause for gratitude: "Tychicus I have sent to Ephesus." Writing to the saints at Ephesus, he describes Tychicus as "a beloved brother and faithful minister in the Lord" (see also Col. 4:7) — no small verdict, above all when we remember that the Holy Spirit inspired it. And it was a rare mercy for the aged Apostle to have such a servant at that moment, to send to Ephesus on his behalf.
- Sent. Others left on their own. Tychicus went because Paul sent him, under an authority no one can claim today.
- Trusted. Paul calls him beloved brother, faithful minister and fellow-servant — loved by the saints, faithful to God, at one with other workers.
- Chosen. Paul could count on him to encourage the saints and to carry the same teaching into a place that had dropped it.
- Aimed. The errand went to Ephesus, the very region that had turned away from Paul — he would not give them up.
- Timed. This last errand came just before Paul's death — proof that his care for them held to the end.
The cloak which I left behind [me] in Troas at Carpus's, bring when thou comest, and the books, especially the parchments.
Paul is in prison near the end of his life, and in his last letter he asks Timothy for a coat, some books, and above all the parchments. Why does such an ordinary errand belong in Scripture, and what do the three items say about the man who asked?
Some readers are offended that a farewell letter this solemn stops to talk about a coat:
This again has stumbled the minds of men. They cannot understand an inspired apostle talking about a cloak in the middle of a divinely given pastoral charge. The reason is plain: they themselves have a taste for the things of men, and not of God. Nothing shows God more than His ability to combine what is eternal with care for the smallest things of this life.
Another writer draws out the practical danger:
The cloak we wear and the books we read are not matters of indifference to Him. In our folly we may think such things beneath His notice. Because we think that way, these very things — the clothes we wear, the books we read — often become our greatest snares.
The cloak also tells us what Paul's life had come to:
The winter winds whistled through the window-bars of his prison cell. The damp and cold made his aged body shiver and ache as he lay bound with a chain. Yet not one Christian among the many living in Rome came to him in his need, or brought him a garment to protect his aching limbs. He had a cloak, just one, but it was nearly a thousand miles away.
Another writer finds nothing strange in it:
A cloak is not to be thrown away, and I have no doubt it was as cold in a Roman prison then as it is cold in Rome now in winter. The man of God can ask for the useful covering.
The way he asks shows how he held ordinary things — clothes and reading — with death close at hand:
Here we learn the Christian liberty the apostle used about these outward things of body and mind. He preferred to have a cloak brought rather than buy another. He asked for his books there, which had their interest or use for him, even though he was expecting death and did not know how soon. He would not speak of the Scriptures that way.
The same writer separates these books from the Scriptures:
"The books" too do not appear, from the general expression, to have been the Scriptures... He would not, we may be well assured, leave behind on his journeys a single roll he had of the Scriptures; but he neither burned nor despised other books.
Commentators differ on what these sheets were. One reading takes them as still blank, and links them to Paul's sense that his ministry was closing:
These naturally imply material of the most valuable and lasting kind, not yet written on. The apostle wanted them, knowing that his outward ministry was closing... What could have been more on his mind than the wish to have his letters copied with care, under his own eye, and for lasting use?
Others think the parchments already carried inspired writing, and draw a lesson from Paul's care for them:
Many have thought that the "parchments" may include some of the inspired letters. This is very likely, and the care taken should be a lesson to us in any work that involves writing.
One man who had turned away from the Christian faith argued that parts of the New Testament have only a local and temporary meaning. He picked this verse as his example of something we could have done without:
He reports that the "Irish Clergyman" replied at once that he himself would have lost much, for it was only that verse which kept him from destroying his little library. Those who knew the Irish Clergyman's "little library" in later years — how many languages and subjects it covered — found the incident interesting.
- Small — objected to. Some stumble at a coat inside a solemn farewell letter. The problem is their own taste for the things of men, not of God.
- Small — claimed by God. Nothing shows God more than His power to join what is eternal with care for the smallest things of this life.
- Small — and dangerous. Think a thing beneath God's notice and it can become your greatest snare — the clothes you wear, the books you read.
- Small — and free. Paul asks for his old cloak instead of a new one, and still wants his ordinary books with death close. That is Christian liberty.
- Small — and lasting. The parchments he wanted "above all" point to writing kept with care. Even this small verse proved its worth: it once saved a man's whole library.