Homily 3 — Second Timothy 1, verses 13 to 18

“Hold on to the pattern of sound words which you have heard from me, in faith and love which are in Christ Jesus. Keep the good thing that was entrusted to you, by the Holy Spirit who lives in us. You know this, that all those in Asia have turned away from me; among them are Phygelus and Hermogenes. May the Lord give mercy to the household of Onesiphorus, for he often refreshed me and was not ashamed of my chain. On the contrary, when he was in Rome, he searched for me very diligently and found me. May the Lord grant him to find mercy from the Lord on that day. And in how many ways he served me at Ephesus, you know very well.” [a]

Paul did not teach his disciple his duty by letters alone. Before that he had taught him by word of mouth as well. He shows this in many other passages, as where he says, “whether by word or by our letter” (Second Thessalonians 2, verse 15), and especially here. So let us not suppose that anything belonging to his teaching was left incomplete. He handed on many things to Timothy without writing them down, and it is these he reminds him of when he says, “Hold on to the pattern of sound words which you have heard from me.” In effect he says: “Like an artist, I have stamped the image of virtue on you. I have fixed in your soul a kind of rule, a model, an outline of everything that pleases God. Hold on to these things, then. Whether you are thinking over some matter of faith, or of love, or of a sound mind, take your ideas of it from here. You will not need to go to others for examples, when everything has been deposited within you.”

“Keep the good thing that was entrusted to you” — how? — “by the Holy Spirit who lives in us.” For a human soul entrusted with things so great is not able on its own to keep them safe. Why not? Because there are many robbers, and thick darkness, and the devil always at hand to plot against us; and we do not know the hour or the occasion when he will fall on us. How, then, he means, will we be able to keep them? “By the Holy Spirit.” That is, if we have the Spirit with us. If we do not drive grace away, he will stand by us. For “unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain. Unless the Lord guards the city, the watchman stays awake in vain” (Psalm 127, verse 1). This is our wall, this our fortress, this our refuge. If, then, the Spirit lives in us and is himself our guard, what need is there for the command? It is so that we will hold him fast and keep him, and not drive him out by our evil deeds. [b]

Then he describes his own trials and hardships, not to discourage his disciple but to lift him up, so that if he ever met the same things he would not think them strange, when he looked back and remembered what had happened to his teacher. What, then, does he say? It was likely that Timothy might be arrested and deserted, helped by no friendly attention, no influence, no assistance, but abandoned even by his friends and by the faithful themselves. So listen to what he says: “You know this, that all those in Asia have turned away from me.” It seems there were many people from the regions of Asia in Rome at the time. “But no one stood by me,” he says. No one acknowledged me; all were estranged. [c]

And notice the philosophy of his soul. He only mentions what they did; he does not curse them. But he praises the man who showed him kindness and calls down a thousand blessings on him, without a single curse on the others. “Among them are Phygelus and Hermogenes. May the Lord give mercy to the household of Onesiphorus, for he often refreshed me and was not ashamed of my chain. On the contrary, when he was in Rome, he searched for me diligently and found me.” See how everywhere he speaks of the shame and not of the danger, so that Timothy would not be alarmed. And yet the thing was full of danger, for Onesiphorus gave offense to Nero by befriending one of his prisoners. But when he was in Rome, Paul says, he not only did not avoid having anything to do with me, but “searched for me very diligently and found me.”

“May the Lord grant him to find mercy from the Lord on that day. And in how many ways he served me at Ephesus, you know very well.” [e]

This is what the faithful ought to be like. Neither fear nor threats nor disgrace should keep them from helping one another, standing by one another and coming to one another’s aid, as in war. For by the service they give, they do not benefit those in danger so much as they benefit themselves, since they make themselves sharers in the crowns that are due to them. For example, is one of those who have given themselves to God struck by affliction and distress, and holding out in the struggle with great courage, while you have not yet been brought into such a struggle? If you are willing, it is in your power, without entering the contest yourself, to share the crowns reserved for him — by standing by him, steadying his mind, putting heart into him and urging him on.

That is why Paul says elsewhere, “You did well to share in my affliction. For even in Thessalonica you sent help once and again for my need” (Philippians 4, verses 14 and 16). And how could people far away share in the affliction of a man who was not with them? How? He says, “You sent help once and again for my needs.” Again, speaking of Epaphroditus, he says, “Because he came close to death, not caring for his life, to make up for your lack of service toward me” (Philippians 2, verse 30).

In the service of kings, it is not only those who fight the battle who share in the honor, but also those who guard the baggage. More than that, these often receive an equal share of the spoils, though they have not stained their hands with blood, nor stood in the battle line, nor even seen the enemy’s ranks. So it is in these contests. The one who relieves the fighter when he is worn out with hunger, who stands by him, encourages him with words and does him every service, is not inferior to the fighter himself. Do not picture Paul as the fighter, that irresistible, unconquerable man, but one of the many — someone who, had he not received much comfort and encouragement, might perhaps not have stood firm, might not have fought at all. So those who are outside the contest may perhaps be the cause of victory for the man engaged in it, and may share the crowns reserved for the victor.

And what wonder is it that one who shares with the living is counted worthy of the same rewards as those who contend, when it is possible to share even after death with the departed — with those who are asleep, who are already crowned and lack nothing? For listen to Paul saying, “sharing in the memories of the saints.” And how can this be done? When you admire a man, when you do any of the things for which he was crowned, you are plainly a sharer in his labors and in his crowns.

“May the Lord grant him to find mercy from the Lord on that day.” He had compassion on me, Paul says; so he will receive the same in return on that terrible day, when we will need much mercy. “May the Lord grant him to find mercy from the Lord.” Are there two Lords, then? Far from it! “For us there is one Lord, Christ Jesus, and one God” (First Corinthians 8, verse 6). [g]

Those infected with the heresy of Marcion attack this expression here. But let them learn that this way of speaking is not unusual in Scripture, as when it says, “The Lord said to my Lord” (Psalm 110, verse 1); and again, “I said to the Lord, You are my Lord” (Psalm 16, verse 2); and, “The Lord rained fire from the Lord” (Genesis 19, verse 24). This shows that the Persons are of the same essence, not that there is a difference of nature. For we are not to understand two essences differing from each other, but two Persons, each of the same essence.

Notice too that he says, “May the Lord grant him mercy.” For as Paul himself had received mercy from Onesiphorus, so he wished him to receive the same from God. [i]

And if Onesiphorus, who exposed himself to danger, is saved by mercy, much more will we be saved by mercy too. For terrible indeed, terrible is that reckoning. It calls for great love for humankind, if we are not to hear that dreadful sentence, “Depart from me; I never knew you, you who practice wrongdoing” (Matthew 7, verse 23); or that fearful word, “Depart, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels” (Matthew 25, verse 41); if we are not to hear, “Between us and you a great chasm has been fixed” (Luke 16, verse 26); if we are not to hear that voice full of horror, “Take him away and throw him into the outer darkness”; if we are not to hear those words full of terror, “You wicked and lazy servant” (Matthew 22, verse 13, and 25, verse 26).

For that judgment seat is truly dreadful and terrible. And yet God is gracious and merciful. He is called the God “of mercies and the God of comfort” (Second Corinthians 1, verse 3). He is good as no one else is good, kind and gentle and full of pity, he who “does not desire the death of a sinner, but that he should turn and live” (Ezekiel 18, verse 23, and 33, verse 11). Why, then — why is that day so full of agony and anguish? A river of fire rolls before his face. The books of our deeds are opened. The day itself burns like an oven; the angels fly about; many furnaces are made ready. How, then, is he good and merciful and full of love for humankind? In this very thing he is merciful, and in these things he shows the greatness of his love for humankind. For he holds these terrors out to us so that, pressed by them, we may be roused to desire the kingdom.

And notice how, besides praising Onesiphorus, he spells out his kindness: “He often refreshed me.” Like a tired wrestler overcome by the heat, Paul was refreshed and strengthened by him in his distress. “And in how many ways he served me at Ephesus, you know very well.” Not only at Ephesus, he means, but here too he refreshed me. For this is how a person ought to act who is watchful and awake to good works: not to do good once, or twice, or three times, but through the whole of life. Our body is not fed once and for all and so supplied with food for a whole lifetime; it needs daily food. So it is here too: godliness needs to be supported every day by good works. For we ourselves need great mercy. [l]

It is because of our sins that God, who loves humankind, does all these things. He does not need them himself; he does all of it for us. That is why he has revealed them all and made them known to us. And he has not merely told us of them, but has given us proof of them by what he has done. He deserved to be believed on his word alone; but so that no one would think it was said as an exaggeration, or merely as a threat, we have been given further proof by his deeds. How? By the punishments he has inflicted, both publicly and privately. So that you may learn it from actual examples: at one time he punished Pharaoh; at another he brought a flood of water on the earth, and that utter destruction; and at yet another, a flood of fire. And even now we see in many cases the wicked suffering vengeance and punishment. These things are foreshadowings of hell.

So that we will not doze off and grow lazy and forget his word, he wakes up our minds with deeds, showing us, even here, courts of justice, judgment seats and trials. Is there, then, such great regard for justice among human beings, and does God, whose ordinance even these things are, take no account of it? Is that believable? [m]

In a house, in a marketplace, there is a court of justice. The master sits in judgment on his slaves every day, calls them to account for their offenses, punishes some and pardons others. In the country, the farmer and his wife go to law every day. On a ship the captain is judge, and in a camp the general over his soldiers; everywhere one may see judgments being given. In the trades the master judges the apprentice. In short, everyone, publicly and privately, is a judge over someone else. Justice is nowhere left out of account, and everyone everywhere gives account of what he has done. Is the search for justice here, then, spread in this way through cities, through houses and among individuals, and is there no regard for justice there, where “the right hand of God is full of righteousness” (Psalm 48, verse 10), and “his righteousness is like the mountains of God” (Psalm 36, verse 6)?

How is it, then, that God, “the righteous Judge, strong and patient” (Psalm 7, verse 11, in the Greek Old Testament), bears with people like this and does not exact punishment? Here you have the reason: he is patient, and by this he would lead you to repentance. But if you go on sinning, “by your hardness and unrepentant heart you are storing up wrath for yourself” (Romans 2, verse 5). If, then, he is just, he repays as each deserves, and does not overlook those who suffer wrong, but avenges them; for this is the part of one who is just. If he is powerful, he repays after death and at the resurrection; for this belongs to one who is powerful. [n]

And if he bears with people because he is patient, let us not be troubled, or ask why he does not take vengeance here. For if he did, the whole human race would have been swept away long before now, if every day he called us to account for our offenses. There is not — there truly is not — a single day free of sin; in something, greater or smaller, we offend. So not one of us would have reached his twentieth year, were it not for his great patience and his goodness, which grants us a longer time for repentance, so that we may put away our past offenses.

So let each of you, with an honest conscience, go back over what he has done, set his whole life before him, and consider whether he does not deserve corrections and punishments without number. And when he is indignant that someone guilty of many bad deeds escapes unpunished, let him consider his own faults, and his indignation will stop. Those crimes seem great because they concern great and well-known matters; but if he looks into his own, he will perhaps find them more numerous. [o]

To rob and to defraud are the same thing, whether it is done for gold or for silver, since both come from the same mind. The man who will steal a little would not refuse to steal much if the chance came his way; and that it does not come is not his own choice but an accident. A poor man who robs one poorer still would not hesitate to rob the rich if he could. His holding back comes from weakness, not from choice. You say: “So-and-so is a ruler, and he takes the property of those under his rule.” And tell me, do you not steal? Do not tell me that he steals talents and you only as many pennies. In giving alms, some threw in gold, while the widow threw in two small coins; yet she gave no less than they did. Why? Because the intention is considered, not the size of the gift. Well, then: in the case of almsgiving you will have God judge this way, and because of your poverty you want no smaller reward for giving two small coins than the man who lays down many talents of gold — and does the same rule not apply to wrongdoing? How is that consistent? Just as she who gave two small coins was counted equal to the greatest givers because of her good intention, so you, who steal two small coins, are as guilty as those greater robbers. In fact, if I may say something strange, you are a worse robber than they are.

A man is equally an adulterer whether he commits the sin with the wife of a king, or of a poor man, or of a slave, since the offense is judged not by the rank of the persons but by the wickedness of the will of the one who commits it. So it is in this case too. In fact, I would call the man who sinned with a woman of low station perhaps more guilty than the one who had an affair with the queen herself. In that case wealth and beauty and other attractions might be pleaded, and none of these exist in the other. So the other is the worse adulterer. Again, the man who gets drunk on bad wine seems to me the more determined drunkard. In the same way, he is the worse defrauder who does not scorn small thefts. The man who commits great robberies would perhaps not stoop to petty thefts, whereas the one who steals little things would never hold back from greater ones; so he is the greater thief of the two. For how will he scorn gold who does not scorn silver?

So when we accuse our rulers, let us go over our own faults, and we will find ourselves more given to wrong and robbery than they are — unless we judge right and wrong by the act rather than by the intention of the mind, though the intention is what we ought to judge by. If one man is convicted of stealing a poor man’s goods, and another a rich man’s, will they not both be punished alike? Is a man not equally a murderer whether he kills a poor and deformed man or a rich and handsome one? So when we say that so-and-so has seized someone else’s land, let us reflect on our own faults. Then we will not condemn other people, but will marvel at the patience of God. We will not be indignant that judgment does not fall on them, but will be slower to do wrong ourselves. For when we see that we are liable to the same punishment, we will no longer feel such resentment; we will give up our offenses, and we will obtain the good things to come, through the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, be glory, power and honor, now and forever. Amen.