Where are the Timothys?
CONCLUSION
Looking for Timothys in the Twenty-First Century
I began this book with a preface which acknowledged that many people today are looking for a “fresh expression” of the church. My concern has been that in this legitimate process of exploration they will not forget, let alone abandon, certain biblical and history-proven marks of a living church. I have attempted to expound eight of these.
And now I bring the main body of this book to a conclusion with a personal appeal to church leaders, whether clergy or laity. Like Timothy, you are called to guard the gospel and to conduct yourselves in God’s household, “which is the church of the living God, the pillar and foundation of the truth” (1 Timothy 3:15).
Now that I am in the ninth decade of my life, I often find myself looking into the future and longing that God will raise up a new generation of Timothys. In this conclusion I venture to address my appeal to you, praying that you may know God’s grace in your life and ministry.
I guess that you find Timothy, as I do, a very congenial character. I have a very soft spot in my heart for Timothy, for he seems to have been one of us in all our human frailty. Timothy was no stained glass saint. A halo would not have fitted comfortably on his head.
Timothy was called to be different from the prevailing culture.
For one thing, he was still comparatively young when Paul wrote him his first letter. Probably by now he was in his thirties, but he was still inexperienced for the heavy responsibilities which were being laid on him. He was also temperamentally shy, for Paul needed to tell the Corinthians to put him at ease when he visited them (1 Corinthians 16:10). Then third he had a recurrent gastric problem, for which Paul prescribed a little alcoholic medicine.
So this was Timothy—young, shy and frail. These are three disabilities which are often found in Christian people today. But they endear him to us. He needed the power of Christ in his weakness, as we do. Let us heed the challenge which Paul addressed to Timothy near the end of his first letter:
But you, man of God, flee from all this, and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses. (1 Timothy 6:11-12)
We notice that Paul’s exhortation begins with the two words “but you.” It is an expression which occurs several times in Paul’s letters to Timothy and which indicates that Timothy was called to be different from the prevailing culture around him. He was not to drift with the stream, or to bend before the pressures of public opinion, like a reed shaken by the wind. Instead, he must stand firmly (as we must) like a rock in a mountain stream.
The reason was that he was a “man of God.” In the Old Testament this honorific title was reserved for leaders like Moses, David, Elijah and other prophets. But in the New Testament it appears to apply to every mature Christian who is “thoroughly equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:17). False teachers were men and women of the world, but the men and women of God derive their values and their standards from God himself.
A THREEFOLD APPEAL
The apostle now develops a threefold appeal to Timothy— ethical, doctrinal and experiential.
First comes the ethical appeal. Timothy is to “flee from all this,” literally “from all these things,” referring in the context to covetousness and all the evils associated with it. Included in these, although mentioned only later, will have been “the evil desires of youth” (2 Timothy 2:22) such as immorality, selfish ambition, indiscipline and impetuosity. Instead, Timothy is given six beautiful qualities to pursue—righteousness and godliness, faith and love, endurance and gentleness. More simply, Timothy is to run away from evil and to run after goodness.
Now we human beings are great runners. We run from danger, which threatens us. But we also run away from issues and responsibilities which we dare not face. Paul seems to be saying to us that instead we should be running away from evil.
Positively, we tend to run after whatever attracts us. We run after pleasure, success, fame, wealth and power. Instead, Paul seems to be saying, how about running after goodness in its many and varied forms?
We should be running away from evil.
There is no passivity in the attainment of holiness. We do not just sit there and do nothing, letting God do it all. The apostle gives Timothy no secret to learn, no technique to master, and no formula to recite. We just have to run for our lives, running away from evil and running after righteousness. The apostle calls us to be good runners.
Second, there is the doctrinal appeal. “Fight the good fight of the faith.” In all three Pastoral Letters (addressed to Timothy and Titus) we are informed that there is such a thing as revealed truth. It is given different names, such as the faith, the teaching, the tradition, the truth, and the deposit. This is of course the teaching of the apostle Paul and of his fellow apostles. This is the true apostolic succession, namely the continuity of doctrine handed down from the apostles, bequeathed to us, and safeguarded by the church in every generation. We are to defend it, proclaim it and teach it with all faithfulness.
Just as good and evil are contrasted with one another in 1 Timothy 6:11, so truth and error are contrasted in 1 Timothy 6:20. In other words, in both the ethical and the doctrinal appeal which Paul addresses to Timothy—and so to us—we have complementary responsibilities. Ethically we are to run away from evil and to run after goodness. Doctrinally we are to turn away from error and fight for the truth.
It is a fight to which we are called.
And it is a fight to which we are called. Nobody enjoys fighting, except perhaps those who are pugnacious by temperament. Fighting is distasteful to every sensitive spirit. There is something sick about enjoying controversy. Nevertheless, the apostle calls it “the good fight” (1 Timothy 6:12), since the glory of God and the well-being of the church are both involved. Even the gentleness which we are to pursue according to the previous verse is not to stop us from fighting for the truth. We must not shirk this unpleasant duty.
Third, there is the experiential appeal. “Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called.” The important thing about eternal life is not its duration but its quality. It is the life of the new age. Jesus himself defined it. Speaking to his Father, he said: “Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent” (John 17:3). It is in this personal relationship with God that eternal life is to be found.
Timothy had been called to this. Presumably there had been a private call, but also a public one when he had made his “good confession in the presence of many witnesses” at his baptism. So Paul says to him, in effect, that he possessed eternal life because it had been given to him when he believed and was baptized. So now he was to lay hold of it.
WHERE ARE THE TIMOTHYS?
It was surely strange, however, that a Christian leader of Timothy’s maturity should need to be exhorted to lay hold of what he already possessed. Had he not been a Christian for many years? Yes, he had. Had he not received eternal life as a free gift many years ago? Yes, he had. Then why did Paul tell him to lay hold of what was already in his possession?
It is possible to possess something without embracing or enjoying it.
The answer to these questions is that it is possible to possess something without embracing or enjoying it. The Greek verb epilambano contains a hint of violence. It is used, for example, of the soldiers when they laid hold of Simon of Cyrene and compelled him to carry the cross instead of Jesus. It is also used of the mob in Jerusalem when they dragged Paul outside the temple area. So Paul’s appeal to Timothy was to seize hold of the eternal life which was already his own. He was to make it increasingly his. He was to enjoy it, to experience it to the full.
This difference between possession and enjoyment is well illustrated in the story of Louis Delcourt. He was a young French soldier during the First World War who overstayed his leave and, fearing disgrace, he decided to desert. He persuaded his mother to lock him up in the attic of their home and there she hid him and fed him for twenty-one years. But in August 1937 his mother died. There was no chance now of his retaining his incognito and remaining in hiding. So, pale and haggard, he staggered along to the nearest police officer, where he gave himself up. The police officer looked at him in utter incredulity and asked him, “where have you been that you have not heard?” “Haven’t heard what?” asked Louis. “That a law of amnesty for all deserters was passed years ago.”
Louis Delcourt had freedom but did not enjoy it because he did not know that he had it. It is the same with many Christian people today. They have been set free by Jesus Christ. But they are not enjoying their freedom because they do not know that they have it.
We can learn two valuable lessons from Paul’s threefold appeal to Timothy.
First, consider the extreme relevance to our day of this three-fold appeal. The apostle seems to set before us here three absolute goals. There is such a thing as goodness: pursue it. The postmodern mood is unfriendly to all universal absolutes. Yet the apostle says there is such a thing as truth: fight for it. And there is such a thing as life: lay hold of it. May God enable us to make an unabashed commitment to those three absolutes—to what is true, what is good, and what is real.
Consider second the balance of Paul’s threefold appeal. That is to say, it incorporates within itself doctrine, ethics and experience.
Some Christians fight the good fight of the faith. They are great warriors for the truth. But they do not pursue goodness, let alone gentleness.
Others are good and gentle, but they have no comparable concern to fight for the truth.
Yet others neglect both doctrine and ethics, and concentrate on their quest for religious experience.
Why must we always polarize? All three of these are God’s purpose for us. Oh, for balanced Christians!
So where are the Timothys of the twenty-first century? They seek to be loyal not only to one or other of these three goals, but to the whole biblical revelation without picking and choosing what they happen to like. They pursue righteousness, they fight the good fight of the faith, and they lay hold of eternal life simultaneously.