Homily 9 — Second Timothy 3, verse 16, to 4, verse 8

“All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, so that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work.” [a]

He has already given Timothy much encouragement and consolation from other sources; now he adds what is more complete, drawn from the Scriptures. And he is quite full in his consolation, and with good reason. . . . For if one who saw his master departing, as though in death, tore his clothes for grief, what do you think Timothy felt, knowing that his teacher was about to die, and that he could not enjoy his company as his death drew near, which is the most distressing thing of all? For we are less thankful for the time that is past when we have been robbed of the last days with those who have departed.

That is why, after he had already offered much consolation, he then speaks about his own death, and in no ordinary way, but in words fitted to comfort him and fill him with joy. He wants it regarded as a sacrifice rather than a death — a migration, as in fact it was, and a removal to a better state. “For I am now ready to be offered up” (Second Timothy 4, verse 6), he says.

For this reason he writes, “All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness.” All what Scripture? All that sacred writing, he means, of which I was speaking. This is said of what he had been discussing, the writings of which he said, “From childhood you have known the holy Scriptures.” All such Scripture, then, “is given by inspiration of God.” So do not doubt, he means. And it is “profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, so that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work.”

“For teaching.” From the Scriptures we will know whether there is anything we ought to learn, or anything we need not know. From them we can refute what is false; from them we can be corrected and brought back to a right mind, and be comforted and consoled; and if anything is lacking in us, we can have it added. [c]

“So that the man of God may be complete.” This is why Scripture was given, he says: so that the man of God may be made complete by it. Without it, then, he cannot be complete. You have the Scriptures, he says, in place of me. If you want to learn anything, you can learn it from them. And if he wrote this to Timothy, who was filled with the Spirit, how much more does it apply to us!

“Thoroughly equipped for every good work.” Not merely taking part in good works, he means, but “thoroughly equipped” for them.

Chapter 4, verse 1: “I charge you therefore before God and the Lord Jesus Christ, who will judge the living and the dead.”

He means either the wicked and the righteous, or those who have died and those who are still alive; for many will be left alive. In the first letter he made him afraid by saying, “I charge you in the sight of God, who gives life to all things” (First Timothy 6, verse 13). But here he sets before him something more dreadful: “who will judge the living and the dead,” that is, who will call them to account, “at his appearing and his kingdom.” When will he judge? At his appearing in glory, and in his kingdom. Either he says this to show that he will not come the way he came before, or he means, “I call to witness his coming and his kingdom.” He calls him to witness, to show that he had reminded him of that appearing.

Then, teaching him how he ought to preach the word, he adds:

Verse 2: “Preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort, with all patience and teaching.”

What does “in season and out of season” mean? It means: do not keep to any fixed season. Let every time be your season — not only in peace and safety, and when you are sitting in church. Whether you are in danger, in prison, in chains, or on your way to your death, at that very time reprove. Do not hold back rebuke, for reproof is most timely exactly when your rebuke will succeed best, when the fault has been proved.

“Exhort,” he says. He works the way physicians do: having shown the wound, he makes the incision, and then he applies the medicated dressing. If you leave out any one of these, the rest are of no use. If you rebuke without first convicting, you will seem rash, and no one will put up with it; but once the matter has been proved, a man will accept the rebuke, while before that he will be headstrong. And if you convict and rebuke, but harshly, and add no exhortation, all your labor will be lost. For being convicted is unbearable in itself unless comfort is mixed in with it. An incision may be healthy in itself, but unless there are plenty of soothing remedies to ease the pain, the patient cannot endure the cutting and hacking. So it is in this matter.

“With all patience and teaching.” The one who reproves has to be patient, so that he does not believe things hastily; and rebuke needs comfort, so that it may be received as it should be. And why does he add “teaching” to “patience”? He means: “Not in anger, not in hatred, not gloating over him, not as one who has caught an enemy. Far be these things from you.” How, then? As one who loves him and feels with him, who is more distressed at his trouble than he is himself, who is melted by his suffering. “With all patience and teaching.” No ordinary teaching is meant. [e]

Verse 3: “For the time will come when they will not put up with sound teaching.”

Get to them all first, before they grow stubborn. That is why he says, “in season and out of season”: do everything so that you may have willing disciples.

“But according to their own cravings,” he says, “they will heap up teachers for themselves.”

Nothing could be more expressive than these words. By saying “they will heap up for themselves,” he shows what a crowd of teachers there would be, gathered without any discrimination, and also that they would be chosen by their own disciples. “They will heap up teachers for themselves,” he says, “having itching ears” — looking for those who speak to please and delight their hearers.

Verse 4: “And they will turn their ears away from the truth, and turn aside to fables.” [f]

He foretells this, not because he wants to throw him into despair, but to prepare him to bear it firmly when it happens. Christ did the same when he said, “They will hand you over, and they will flog you, and bring you before the synagogues, for my name’s sake” (Matthew 10, verse 17). And this blessed man says elsewhere, “For I know this, that after my departure savage wolves will come in among you, not sparing the flock” (Acts 20, verse 29). But he said this so that they would keep watch and make good use of the present time.

Verse 5: “But you, be watchful in all things; endure hardship.”

That, then, is why he foretold these things. Just as Christ, toward the end, foretold that there would be “false christs and false prophets,” so Paul too, when he was about to depart, spoke of these things.

“But you, be watchful in all things; endure hardship.” That is: work hard; get into their minds first, before this plague attacks them; secure the safety of the sheep before the wolves come in; everywhere endure hardship.

“Do the work of an evangelist; make full proof of your ministry.” So it was the work of an evangelist to endure hardship, both in himself and from those outside. “Make full proof of” means “fulfill”: fulfill your ministry. And see, here is another reason why he must endure hardship: [g]

Verse 6: “For I am now ready to be poured out, and the time of my departure is at hand.”

He did not say “of my sacrifice,” but, what is much more, “of my being poured out.” For the whole of a sacrifice was not offered to God, but the whole of the drink offering was.

Verse 7: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith.”

Often, when I have taken the Apostle into my hands and considered this passage, I have been at a loss to understand why Paul speaks so loftily here: “I have fought the good fight.” But now, by the grace of God, I think I have found it out. Why, then, does he speak this way? He wants to console his disciple in his dejection, and so he tells him to take heart, since he himself is going to his crown, having finished all his work and reached a glorious end. You ought to rejoice, he says, not to grieve. And why? Because “I have fought the good fight.”

It is like a father whose son is sitting beside him, mourning that he is about to be left an orphan. The father might console him by saying: “Do not weep, my son. We have lived a good life; we have reached old age, and now we are leaving you. Our life has been beyond reproach; we depart with glory, and you may be admired because of what we have done. Our king owes us a great deal.” It is as though he said, “We have set up trophies; we have defeated enemies” — and this not to boast. Far from it! He says it to lift up his dejected son and to encourage him with these words of praise. . . . “Being taken away from you for a short time, in person, not in heart” (First Thessalonians 2, verse 17). If Paul felt so much at being separated from his disciples, what do you think Timothy felt? If Timothy wept when he parted from Paul while Paul was still living — so that Paul says, “Remembering your tears, so that I may be filled with joy” (Second Timothy 1, verse 4) — how much more at his death? So he wrote these things to console him. Indeed, the whole letter is full of consolation; it is a kind of last will and testament.

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.” “A good fight,” he says; so you too, engage in it. But is that a good fight, where there are imprisonment, chains, and death? Yes, he says, for it is fought for Christ’s sake, and great crowns are won in it. “The good fight”! There is no worthier contest than this. This crown has no end. It is not made of olive leaves. It has no human judge. It does not have men for spectators: the theater is crowded with angels. There, men toil for many days and endure hardships, and then for one hour they receive the crown, and at once all the pleasure passes away. But here it is far otherwise: the crown lasts forever, in brightness, glory, and honor. So from now on we ought to rejoice. For I am entering my rest; I am leaving the race. You have heard that “it is better to depart and to be with Christ.”

“I have finished the course.” For we must both fight and run: fight, by enduring hardships firmly; and run, not in vain, but toward a good end. It truly is a good fight, one that not only delights the spectator but does him good; and the race does not end in nothing. It is not a mere display of strength and rivalry; it draws everyone up to heaven. This race is brighter than the sun’s — yes, this course that Paul ran on earth is brighter than the one the sun runs in the sky. [l]

And how had he “finished his course”? He went over the whole world, beginning from Galilee and Arabia and going on to the ends of the earth, so that, as he says, “From Jerusalem and all around as far as Illyricum I have fully preached the good news of Christ” (Romans 15, verse 19). He passed over the earth like a bird — or rather, more swiftly than a bird. A bird only flies over it; but he, with the wing of the Spirit, made his way through countless obstacles, dangers, deaths, and disasters, so that he was even swifter than a bird. Had he been a mere bird, he might have landed and been caught; but being carried up by the Spirit, he soared above every snare, like a bird with a wing of fire.

“I have kept the faith,” he says. Many things might have robbed him of it: not only human friendships, but threats, and deaths, and countless other dangers. But he stood firm against them all. How? By being sober and watchful. This might have been enough to console his disciples, but he goes on to add the rewards. And what are they? [m]

Verse 8: “From now on there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness.” Here again he uses “righteousness” for virtue in general. You should not grieve that I am departing, to be crowned with that crown which Christ will place on my head. But if I were staying on here, then you might well grieve, and fear that I would fall and be lost.

Verse 8: “Which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me on that day — and not to me only, but to all who love his appearing.”

But someone may ask: “How is one to love the appearing of Christ?” By rejoicing at his coming. And the one who rejoices at his coming will do works worthy of that joy. He will throw away his property if he must, and even his life, so that he may gain the blessings to come, and be found worthy to see that second coming in a fitting state — with confidence, in brightness and glory. This is what it is to “love his appearing.” The one who loves his appearing will do everything to make sure that, before his coming to all, he comes to him in particular. You will say: “And how is that possible?” Hear Christ promising to come to each of us in particular, for he says, “We will come and make our home with him” (John 14, verse 23). If anyone “loves his appearing,” he will do everything to invite him in and to keep him, so that the light may shine on him. Let there be nothing unworthy of his coming, and he will soon make his home with us.

And it is called his “Epiphany,” because he will appear from above and shine forth from on high. So let us “seek the things that are above,” and we will soon draw those rays down on ourselves. None of those who grovel below and bury themselves in this lower earth will be able to look on the light of that Sun. None of those who defile themselves with worldly things will be able to see that Sun of righteousness. Lift yourself up from that depth, from the waves of a worldly life, if you want to see the Sun and enjoy his appearing. Then you will see him with great confidence. [o]

Be a philosopher even now. Do not let a perverse spirit take hold of you, or he will strike you hard and bring you low. Do not let your heart be hardened or darkened, or you will be shipwrecked there. Let there be no deceiving yourself, for it is the rocks beneath the sea that cause the most fatal shipwrecks. Do not feed wild beasts — I mean evil passions, worse than wild beasts. Do not trust in things that are always flowing away, so that you may be able to stand firm. No one can stand on water, but on a rock everyone finds a secure footing. Worldly things are like water, like a torrent that passes away. “The waters,” he says, “have come in even to my soul” (Psalm 69, verse 1). . . . that we are suffering for Christ. Let us repeat this divine charm, and it will charm away the pain of every wound.

You ask: “And how can we suffer for Christ?” If someone brings a false charge against you over anything, even something that has nothing to do with Christ, yet you bear it patiently, give thanks, and pray for him, all this you do for Christ. But if you curse him, if you complain, if you try to take revenge, even if you are not able to, it is not for Christ’s sake. You suffer the loss, and you are robbed of your reward because of your intention. For it rests with us either to gain or to lose; it depends on the disposition of our own minds. [r]

Job, for example, suffered greatly, yet he suffered with thankfulness; and he was counted righteous, not because he suffered, but because in suffering he endured it thankfully. Another man under the same sufferings — or rather not the same, for no one ever suffered as Job did — under lighter sufferings, cries out, loses patience, curses the whole world, and complains against God. He is condemned and sentenced, not because he suffered, but because he blasphemed. And he blasphemed, not under any compulsion from his troubles. If compulsion from events were the cause, Job too would have had to blaspheme. But since Job, who suffered more severely, did nothing of the kind, it did not come about from this cause, but from the man’s weakness of will. So what we need is strength of soul, and then nothing will seem hard to bear; but if our soul is weak, we find a grievance in everything.

Things become bearable or unbearable according to our frame of mind. Let us strengthen our resolve, and we will bear everything easily. The tree whose roots go deep into the earth is not shaken by the fiercest storm; but if it is set lightly on the surface of the ground, a slight gust of wind will tear it up by the roots. So it is with us. If our flesh is nailed down by the fear of God, nothing will be able to shake us; but if we merely mean well, a small shock will overturn and destroy us. [s]

That is why it is written, “My soul clings to you.” Notice that he does not say “draws near,” but “clings to you.” And again, “My soul thirsts for you” (Psalm 63, verse 1). He did not say merely “longs for,” so that by such words he might express how intense his love was. So let us cling to him and be united with him in such a way that we may never be separated from him. If we hold fast to God like this, if we fix our thoughts on him like this, if we thirst with love for him, all that we desire will be ours, and we will obtain the good things to come, in Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom with the Father and the Holy Spirit be glory, power, and honor, now and forever. Amen.