Homily 5 — Second Timothy 2, verses 11 to 19

“This saying is trustworthy: for if we have died with him, we will also live with him; if we suffer, we will also reign with him; if we deny him, he also will deny us; if we do not believe, yet he remains faithful. He cannot deny himself. Remind them of these things, charging them before the Lord not to quarrel about words to no profit, but to the ruin of those who hear.” [a]

Many of the weaker sort give up the effort that faith demands, and cannot bear to have their hope put off. They look for things present, and from these they form their judgment of the future. So when their lot here was death, torture and chains, and yet Paul says they will come to eternal life, they would not have believed it. They would have said:

“What are you saying? When I live, I die; and when I die, I live? You promise nothing on earth, and will you give it in heaven? Little things you do not give, and do you offer great ones?”

So that no one may argue like this, he puts the proof of these things beyond doubt, laying it down beforehand and giving sure signs. For he says, “Remember that Jesus Christ was raised from the dead” — that is, rose again after death. And now, showing the same thing, he says, “This saying is trustworthy”: that the one who has attained a heavenly life will attain eternal life too. Why is it “trustworthy”? Because, he says, “if we have died with him, we will also live with him.” For tell me: will we share with him in what is hard and painful, and not in what does us good? Not even a man would act like that. If someone had chosen to share another’s affliction and death, that man would not refuse him a share in his rest once he had reached it.

But how have we “died with him”? He means both the death that takes place in the washing and the death that comes through sufferings. For he says, “Always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus” (Second Corinthians 4, verse 10); and, “We were buried with him through baptism into death” (Romans 6, verse 4); and, “Our old self was crucified with him”; and, “We have been planted together in the likeness of his death” (Romans 6, verses 5 and 6). But here he also means death through trials, and that above all, for he was suffering trials himself when he wrote it. And this is what he says:

“If we have suffered death for his sake, will we not live for his sake? This is not to be doubted. ‘If we suffer, we will also reign with him.’”

He does not say simply “we will reign,” but “if we suffer,” showing that it is not enough to die once — the blessed man himself died daily — but that much endurance was needed; and Timothy especially needed it. For he says:

“Do not tell me about your first sufferings; tell me that you go on suffering.”

Then, on the other side, he urges him on not from the good but from the evil. For if wicked men were to share the same things, there would be no comfort in this. And suppose those who endured were to reign with him, while those who did not endure would not reign with him but would suffer nothing worse. Terrible as that would be, it would still not be enough to make most people take it to heart. That is why he speaks of something more dreadful still: “If we deny him, he also will deny us.” So there is a recompense not only of good things but of the opposite. And think what the one who is denied in that kingdom is likely to suffer. [d]

“Whoever denies me, him I also will deny” (Matthew 10, verse 33). And the recompense is not equal, though it seems to be put that way. For we who deny him are human beings, but he who denies us is God; and how great the distance is between God and man there is no need to say.

Besides, we harm ourselves; him we cannot harm. To show this, he has added, “If we do not believe, he remains faithful. He cannot deny himself.” That is, if we do not believe that he rose again, he is not harmed by it. He is faithful and unshaken, whether we say so or not. If, then, our denying him does him no harm at all, it is for nothing else but our own good that he wants us to confess him. For he remains the same whether we deny him or not. “He cannot deny himself” — that is, his own being. We may say that he does not exist, though that is not the fact. It is not in his nature, it is not possible for him, not to be — that is, to pass into nothing. His existence always remains; it always is. So let us not think of ourselves as though we could either do him a favor or do him harm.

But so that no one would think Timothy needed this advice for himself, he has added, “Remind them of these things, charging them before the Lord not to quarrel about words to no profit, but to the ruin of those who hear.” It is an awe-inspiring thing to call God to witness what we say. If no one would dare to brush aside the testimony of a man when he is appealed to, much less when the appeal is to God. If someone, for example, making a contract or drawing up his will, chooses to call witnesses worthy of trust, would anyone hand the property over to people not named in it? Surely not. And even if he wanted to, he holds back for fear of witnesses whose word will be believed. What is “charging them before the Lord”? He calls God to witness both what was said and what was done.

“Not to quarrel about words to no profit” — and not only that, but “to the ruin of those who hear.” Not only is there no gain in it, there is much harm. “Remind them of these things,” then; and if they despise you, God will judge them. But why does he warn them not to quarrel about words? He knows that this is something people relish, and that the human soul is always inclined to argue and dispute about words. To guard against this, he has not only charged them “not to quarrel about words,” but to make his words more alarming, he adds, “to the ruin of those who hear.” [e]

Verse 15: “Make every effort to present yourself approved to God, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.”

Everywhere this “not being ashamed”! And why is he always so careful to guard him against shame? Because many were naturally inclined to be ashamed both of Paul himself, since he was a tentmaker, and of the preaching, since its teachers were being put to death. For Christ had been crucified, Paul himself was about to be beheaded, and Peter was crucified head downward; and they suffered these things at the hands of reckless and contemptible men. Because such men were in power, he says, “Do not be ashamed”; that is, do not be afraid to do anything that leads to godliness, even if you must submit to slavery or any other suffering. For how does anyone become approved? By being “a worker who has no need to be ashamed.” Just as a worker is not ashamed of any work, so the one who labors for the good news should not be ashamed either. He should submit to anything.

“Rightly dividing the word of truth.” [g]

He has put this well. For many twist it and distort it in every way, and many additions are made to it. He did not say “directing it,” but “rightly dividing” — that is, cut away what is spurious; attack it with all your force and root it out. With the sword of the Spirit cut away from your preaching, as from a leather strap, whatever is excess and foreign to it.

Verse 16: “And avoid godless novelties of speech.”

For they will not stop there. When anything new has been brought in, it keeps producing further innovations; and once a man has left the safe harbor, his wandering has no limit and never stops.

“For they will advance to more ungodliness,” he says. Verse 17: “And their word will eat its way like gangrene.”

It is an evil that cannot be checked and that no medicine can cure; it destroys the whole body. He shows that novelty in doctrine is a disease, and worse than a disease. And here he implies that they are past correcting, and that they went astray not out of weakness but on purpose.

“Among whom are Hymenaeus and Philetus.” [i]

Verse 18: “Who have gone astray concerning the truth, saying that the resurrection has already happened, and are overturning the faith of some.”

He has rightly said, “They will advance to more ungodliness.” For it seems to be a single evil, but see what evils spring from it. If the resurrection has already happened, we not only suffer the loss of being deprived of that great glory, but judgment is taken away, and recompense too. For if the resurrection is past, the recompense is past as well. Then the good have reaped persecutions and afflictions, and the wicked have not been punished — no, indeed, they live in great pleasure. It would be better to say that there is no resurrection than that it has already happened.

“And they are overturning,” he says, “the faith of some.”

“Of some,” not of all. For if there is no resurrection, faith is overturned. Our preaching is empty, and Christ is not risen; and if he is not risen, neither was he born, nor has he gone up into heaven. See how this error, while it seems to oppose the teaching of the resurrection, drags many other evils after it.

“What then? Are we to do nothing for those whose faith is overturned?”

Verse 19: “Nevertheless,” he says, “the foundation of God stands sure, having this seal: ‘The Lord knows those who are his,’ and, ‘Let everyone who names the name of the Lord turn away from wrongdoing.’” [j]

He shows that even before they were overturned, they were not firm. Otherwise they would not have been thrown down at the first attack — just as Adam was firm before the commandment. For those who are firmly fixed not only take no harm from deceivers but are even admired.

And he calls it “sure” and a “foundation”: that is how we ought to hold to the faith. “Having this seal: ‘The Lord knows those who are his.’” What is this? He has taken it from Deuteronomy. That is, firm souls stand fixed and immovable. But how are they made known? By having these marks written on their actions: by being known by God and not perishing with the world, and by turning away from wrongdoing.

“Let everyone,” he says, “who names the name of the Lord turn away from wrongdoing.”

These are the marks that distinguish the foundation. A foundation is shown to be firm, and letters are carved on a stone so that they may convey their meaning; but these letters are shown by works. “Having,” he says, “this seal” set upon it: “Let everyone who names the name of the Lord turn away from wrongdoing.” So if anyone is unrighteous, he is not part of the foundation. This too, then, belongs to the seal: not to do wrong.

So let us not put away from us the royal seal and mark, so that we may not be among those who are not sealed; so that we may not be unsound, but firmly grounded, part of the foundation, and not carried this way and that. This is the mark of those who belong to God: that they turn away from wrongdoing. For how can anyone belong to God, who is just, if he does wrong, if by his works he opposes him, if he insults him by his misdeeds? [l]

Again we are speaking against injustice, and again we have many who are hostile to us. For this passion, like a usurper, has seized the souls of all — and, what is worse, not by necessity or force, but by persuasion and gentle coaxing, and they are grateful for their slavery. And this is the real misery. If they were held by force and not by love, they would soon leave.

How is it that something most bitter seems sweet? How is it that righteousness, a most sweet thing, becomes bitter? It is the fault of our senses. In the same way some have thought honey bitter, and have gladly taken other things that were harmful. The cause is not in the nature of things but in the disordered state of those who are sick. The soul’s power of judgment is out of order. Just as a balance, if its beam is unsteady, swings around and does not show accurately the weight of what is put in it, so the soul, if it does not have the beam of its own thoughts fixed and firmly riveted to the law of God, is carried around and dragged down, and will not be able to judge actions rightly.

For if anyone will look carefully, he will see the great bitterness of injustice — not to those who suffer it, but to those who practice it, and to them more than to the others. And let us not speak of the future; for the present, let us speak of things here. Does it not bring fights, lawsuits, condemnation, ill will, abuse? What is more bitter than these? Does it not bring hostility, and wars, and accusations? What is more bitter than these? Does it not bring a conscience that is always lashing us and gnawing at us? If it were possible, I would wish to draw the soul of the unrighteous man out of his body, and you would see it pale and trembling, ashamed, hiding its head, anxious and afraid, and condemned by itself.

For even if we sink to the very depths of wickedness, the mind’s power of judgment is not destroyed; it remains unbribed. No one pursues injustice thinking it good. He invents excuses and turns to every trick of words to shift the accusation off himself; but he cannot get it off his conscience. Out here, plausible words, corrupt rulers, and crowds of flatterers are often able to cast justice into the shade. But within, the conscience has nothing of the kind: there are no flatterers there, no wealth to corrupt the judge. For the power of judging is planted in us by nature, by God, and what comes from God cannot be corrupted like that. But restless sleep, crowding fantasies, and the constant memory of guilt destroy our rest.

Has someone, for example, unjustly taken another man’s house from him? Not only is the man who was robbed made unhappy, but the man who robbed him too. If he is convinced that there will be a judgment to come — if indeed anyone is convinced of it — he groans bitterly and is miserable. But if he does not believe in the life to come, he still blushes with shame. Or rather, there is no one, whether Greek, Jew or heretic, who is not afraid of a judgment to come. And even if he is no philosopher about the life to come, he fears and trembles at what may happen to him here, in case some recompense should fall on his property, his children, his household, or his life. For God sends many such punishments. Since the teaching of the resurrection is not enough to bring everyone to their senses, he gives many proofs of his righteous judgment even here, and displays them to the world. One man who gained wrongfully is left childless; another falls in war; another is maimed in body; another loses his son. He thinks about these things, his imagination dwells on them, and he lives in constant fear.

Do you not know what the unrighteous suffer? Is there no bitterness in these things? And even if there were nothing of this kind, do not all condemn him, hate him, loathe him, and think him less rational than a beast — even those who are unrighteous themselves? For if they condemn themselves, much more do they condemn another, calling him a robber, a swindler, a public pest. What pleasure, then, can he enjoy? All he has is the heavier care and anxiety of keeping his gains, and more worry and trouble. For the more wealth a man piles up around himself, the more painful watching he stores up for himself. [o]

Then what about the curses of those he has wronged, and their pleading against him? And what if sickness comes upon him? For once a man has fallen sick, however godless he may be inclined to be, he cannot help being anxious about these things and turning them over in his mind, when he is unable to do anything. As long as we are here and the soul is enjoying itself, it will not put up with painful thoughts. But when it is about to take flight from the body, a greater fear grips it, since it is entering the very doorway of judgment. Even robbers live without fear while they are in prison; but when they are brought to the very curtain of the court, they sink with terror.

For when the fear of death presses hard, it is like a fire that consumes everything else: it compels the soul to philosophize and to give thought to the future. The desire for wealth, the love of gain and of bodily pleasures no longer hold it. These things pass away like clouds and leave the power of judgment clear, and grief comes in and softens the hard heart. For nothing is so opposed to philosophy as a life of pleasure, and nothing, on the other hand, is so favorable to philosophy as affliction.

Think what the greedy man will be then. For “an hour of affliction,” it is said, “makes a man forget much pleasure” (Sirach 11, verse 27). What state will he be in when he thinks of those he has robbed and injured and cheated, when he sees others reaping the fruits of his grasping, and himself going off to pay the penalty? It cannot be — it truly cannot be — that once he has fallen sick he does not reflect on these things. Often the soul is torn apart by agony and terror of its own accord. What bitterness this is, tell me! And with every sickness these things must be endured. And what will he not suffer when he sees others punished or put to death?

These things await him here. And as for what he must undergo hereafter, it is impossible to say what punishment, what vengeance, what torments, what racks are kept for him there. We declare these things: “Whoever has ears to hear, let him hear” (Luke 8, verse 8). We are always talking about these things, not willingly but out of necessity. We could wish there were no need to mention such things at all. But since there is, we would at least, by a little medicine, free you from your disease and restore you to health. [p]

But while you remain in this sickness, it would show a small and weak spirit — to say nothing of cruelty and inhumanity — to stop the treatment. If, when doctors give up hope for our bodies, we beg them not to neglect us, and not to stop applying whatever is in their power until our last breath, should we not much more urge ourselves on? For perhaps, even when we have come to the very gates of hell, the entrance hall of wickedness itself, it may be possible to recover, to renew our strength, to lay hold of eternal life!

How many who have heard ten times and remained unmoved have afterwards been converted at a single hearing! Or rather, not at a single hearing; for though they seemed unmoved at the ten sermons, they still gained something, and afterwards showed abundant fruit all at once. A tree may receive ten blows and not fall, and then be brought down all at once by a single stroke; yet it is not that one blow that does it, but the ten that made the last one succeed. The one who sees the root knows this, though the one who looks at the trunk above does not. So it is here. And often, when doctors have applied many remedies, no benefit is seen; but afterwards someone comes in and brings about a complete cure. Yet it is not his work alone, but the work of those who had already brought the illness down.

So if we do not bear the fruits of hearing the word now, we will bear them later. That we will bear them I am fully convinced. For it is not possible — it truly is not possible — that such eager desire, such love of hearing, should fail to have its effect. Far from it! But may we all, having become worthy of the admonitions of Christ, obtain the everlasting blessings, in Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom with the Father and the Holy Spirit be glory, power, and honor, now and forever. Amen.