提摩太後書講道集 第 10 章

Do your diligence to come to me quickly.

For Demas has forsaken me, having loved this present world, and is departed unto Thessalonica; Crescens to Galatia.

Only Luke is with me.

Take Mark, and bring him with yourself;

for he is useful to me for ministry.

But Tychicus I have sent to Ephesus.

The cloak that I left at Troas with Carpus, bring when you come, and the books, especially the parchments.

It is worth inquiring how he calls Timothy to himself, seeing that he had been entrusted with a Church and a whole nation.

The matter was not one of presumption;

for he himself was ready to come to him;

for hear him saying, But if I tarry long, that you may know how you ought to behave yourself in the house of God.

But for what reason then? He was held fast by great constraint, and was no longer master of travelling abroad;

he dwelt in a prison, and was shut up by Nero, and was on the very point of dying.

In order, therefore, that this might not happen before he saw his disciple, for this reason he calls him, longing to behold him before his death, and perhaps to commit many things to his charge;

Therefore he says, 'Do your utmost to come to me before winter.'

'For Demas has forsaken me, having loved this present world.'

And he does not say, 'That I may see you before I depart from this life'—which was the thing that grieved him most;

but rather, 'Since I am alone,' he says, 'and have no one to give me help.'

'For Demas has forsaken me, having loved this present world, and has departed to Thessalonica.'

That is, being enamored of ease, of a life free from danger and secure, he chose rather to luxuriate at home than to endure hardship with me and to share with me the perils that were then upon us.

He singled this man out for censure, not because he wished to slander him, but in order to strengthen us, that we might not grow soft amid dangers or amid toils;

for this is the meaning of 'having loved this present world.'

At the same time he also wished to draw his disciple onward.

'Crescens,' he says, 'has gone to Galatia, Titus to Dalmatia.'

These men he no longer censures;

for Titus too was among those greatly to be admired, so much so that Paul entrusted to him the affairs of the island—and no small island, but a very great one, I mean Crete.

'Luke alone is with me.'

He clung to Paul most inseparably—the very man who wrote the Gospel and the universal Acts—being diligent, eager to learn, and enduring.

Concerning this man Paul writes, 'Whose praise is in the Gospel throughout all the churches.'

'Take Mark and bring him with you.'

For what reason? 'For he is useful to me for ministry.'

He does not speak of his own rest, but of 'the ministry of the Gospel';

for even while he was in chains, he did not cease to preach.

So then he summoned Timothy also for this reason—not for his own sake, but for the sake of the Gospel—that no disturbance might arise among the faithful at his death, since many of his own disciples would be present to check any tumults and to comfort those who bore his death beyond endurance.

For it was likely that those who had believed at Rome were men of consequence;

'But Tychicus I have sent to Ephesus.'

'The cloak that I left at Troas with Carpus, bring it when you come, and the books, especially the parchments.'

By 'cloak' here he means the outer garment;

though some say it means the book-case in which the books were kept.

But what need had he of the books when he was about to depart to God? He had the greatest need, so that he might commit them to the faithful and that they might have them in place of his own teaching.

Now it was likely that all the faithful were then greatly stricken, but most of all those present at his death and enjoying his company at that time.

He asks for the cloak, so that he might not need to receive one from another.

For you see him taking great pains over this, and saying elsewhere, when he was conversing with those from Ephesus:

'You know that these hands ministered to my necessities and to those who were with me.'

and again, 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'

'Alexander the coppersmith did me much harm.'

'May the Lord repay him according to his works.'

Here again he makes mention of a trial, not wishing simply to slander that man nor to accuse him, but to anoint his disciple for the contests, that he might bear them nobly;

even if those who bring the trials are of low degree, even if they are of no account, even if they are dishonored, one must, he says, bear all things nobly.

For he who has suffered ill at the hands of some great person has no small consolation to his pride—the eminence of the one who does it;

but he who suffers at the hands of a mean and abject person has the greater vexation.

'He did me much harm';

that is, 'He afflicted me in various ways.'

'But not unpunished,' he says, 'shall these things turn out for him;

for the Lord will repay him according to his works.'

Just as, when writing above, he said, 'What persecutions I endured! Yet out of them all the Lord delivered me';

so here too he encouraged his disciple in a twofold way, both by his own suffering ill and by the fact that that man would receive his due;

not as though the saints simply exulted in punishments, but because the preaching had need of it, and the weaker sort had need of the consolation arising therefrom.

'Him do you also,' he says, 'beware of;

for he has greatly withstood our words.'

That is, 'He makes war and sets himself in opposition.'

And he did not say, 'Punish him, chastise him, drive him away'—although it was possible to accomplish these things through the grace given him;

but none of these; nor does he arm him against the man, but only bids him withdraw, yielding the punishment to God.

And it was for the comfort of the weaker sort that he said this, 'He will repay him';

which is also either a prophecy or an imprecation.

And that he says these things in order to anoint his disciple is clear also from what follows.

But see again how he recounts other trials of his own.

'At my first defense,' he says, 'no one stood with me, but all forsook me.'

Do you see how he spares his own people? And yet they had done a dreadful thing.

For it is not the same thing to be despised by outsiders and by one's own people.

Do you see the intensified dejection? You cannot say, 'By outsiders I was warred upon, but I had for my consolation the care and the alliance of my own people';

'All forsook me,' he says.

So then this was no small sin.

For if in war the man who abandons one in peril, and withdraws himself from the enemy's hand, is justly struck down by his own comrades as having ruined and betrayed the whole cause;

how much more so in the preaching of the Gospel.

But what first defense does he mean? He had already stood before Nero, and escaped;

but when he had catechized Nero's cupbearer, then Nero had him beheaded.

Behold again exhortation to the disciple through what follows:

'But the Lord stood by me and strengthened me.'

For God does not permit the one forsaken by men to suffer anything dreadful.

'And He strengthened me,' he says;

that is, He granted boldness of speech, He did not let me fall.

'That through me the preaching might be fully accomplished';

Behold his great humility of mind!

It was not as one worthy to obtain the gift, he says, that He strengthened me, but 'that the message might be fully proclaimed, with which I had been entrusted.'

As though one were to bear the purple robe and the diadem, and be preserved for its sake.

'And that,' he says, 'all the nations might hear.'

What does this mean? That the splendour of the preaching, he says, might become manifest to all, and the tender care of the providence watching over me.

'And He delivered me out of the mouth of the lion;'

'and the Lord shall deliver me from every evil work.'

See how near he came to dying.

He had fallen into the very throat of the lion.

For he calls Nero a lion, on account of the savagery and the strength of his rule, and its terror that struck men dumb.

'And the Lord delivered me,' he says, 'and He will deliver me.'

If He will deliver him again, how did he say, 'I am already being poured out as a drink offering'? But attend closely to the wording.

'He delivered me,' he says, 'out of the mouth of the lion;'

and again, 'He will deliver me'—no longer out of the mouth, but what? 'From every evil work.'

For at that time He snatched me out of dangers;

but since what was sufficient for the Gospel has now been accomplished, He will deliver me once more from every sin—that is, He will not permit me to depart condemned.

For this too—being able to withstand sin even unto blood, and not to yield—is to be delivered from another lion, namely the devil.

So that this deliverance is greater than the former one, at the very moment when he seems to have been given up.

'And He will save me unto His heavenly kingdom;'

'to whom be the glory unto the ages of ages.'

This, then, is salvation—when we shine forth yonder.

What does 'He will save me unto His kingdom' mean? He will snatch me, he says, from every charge, and will keep me safe yonder.

For this is to be saved unto the kingdom: to die here for its sake.

For 'he that hateth his life in this world,' he says, 'shall keep it unto life eternal.'

'Salute Prisca and Aquila, and the household of Onesiphorus.'

For he himself was there at Rome, as he says.

'The Lord grant unto him that he may find mercy from the Lord in that day.'

By this greeting he makes those in the household more eager after such noble deeds.

'Salute,' he says, 'Prisca and Aquila.'

These are they whom he continually remembers, with whom also he lodged, who took Apollos to themselves.

And he puts the wife first, as it seems to me, inasmuch as she was more zealous and more faithful;

for she too at that time took Apollos to herself;

or else he does this without any particular distinction.

And this mention was no small comfort to them, but carried a token of honour and love, and a partaking of much grace;

for even the mere greeting of that holy and blessed man was enough to fill with much grace the one who received the salutation.

'Erastus abode at Corinth, but Trophimus I left at Miletus sick.'

This man, together with Tychicus, we know from the Book of Acts to have gone up with him from Judea, and to have been constantly in his company, perhaps as being more diligent than the rest.

'But Trophimus,' he says, 'I left at Miletus sick.'

Why, then, did you not heal him, but leave him behind? The apostles could not do all things, or rather they did not order all things by the grace given them, lest anyone should reckon of them beyond what he sees.

This we see also in the case of the blessed and righteous men who lived before them.

Why did He not change his frail condition? Often he was smitten with grief and despondency;

he did not enter into the land of promise.

For God permitted many things, so that the weakness of human nature might be shown.

For if, even when these things were done, the senseless Jews said, 'Where is Moses, who brought us up out of the land of Egypt?'—if he had also brought them into the land of promise, what would they not have suffered? If He had not permitted the fear of Pharaoh to prevail over him, would they not have thought him a god? So too concerning Paul and Barnabas we see the inhabitants of Lystra affected toward them, and thinking them gods, when they rent their garments and rushed out into the crowd, crying and saying:

'Sirs, why do ye these things? We also are men of like passions with you.'

And Peter again, when he had healed the man lame from his birth, and all were amazed at what had happened, answered and said:

'Ye men of Israel, why marvel ye at this? or why fasten ye your eyes on us, as though by our own power or godliness we had made him to walk?' And hear again the blessed Paul saying:

'And there was given me a thorn in the flesh, that I should not be exalted overmuch.'

But this saying, he says, is one of humility.

For it was not for this that the thorn was given him, that he might be humble; nor did he say this for humility's sake alone, but also for other reasons.

See, then, how God in answering him does not say, 'My grace sufficeth thee, that thou be not exalted,' but what? 'For My power,' He says, 'is made perfect in weakness.'

And so the things that were done were shown to be manifest, and the whole was ascribed to God.

For this reason he says also in another place:

'We have this treasure in earthen vessels,' that is, in bodies subject to suffering and weak.

Why? 'That the exceeding greatness of the power may be God's, and not from us.'

If the bodies were not subject to suffering, everything would have been ascribed to them.

And in another place also we see him grieving over sickness;

for concerning Epaphroditus he said:

'For indeed he was sick nigh unto death, but God had mercy on him;'

and there were many other things too of which he was ignorant, and this profitably both for himself and for those who were his disciples.

'But Trophimus,' he says, 'I left at Miletus sick.'

Miletus happens to be near Ephesus.

Was it, then, when he was sailing to Judea, or shall we say it was at some other time?

For after coming to Rome, he departed again to Spain;

but whether from there he came again to these parts, we do not know.

At any rate we see him bereft of all.

'For Demas,' he says, 'forsook me;'

'for Crescens is gone to Galatia, Titus to Dalmatia;'

'Erastus abode at Corinth;'

'Trophimus I left at Miletus sick.'

'Do thy diligence to come before winter.'

Eubulus greeteth thee, and Pudens, and Linus, and Claudia.

Some relate that this Linus was the second bishop of the Church of the Romans after Peter.

'And Linus,' he saith, 'and Claudia.'

Seest thou how women too were ardent and fervent in the faith? Such was Priscilla, such was this very Claudia—already crucified to the world, already drawn up in battle-array.

And why, when there were so many believers, doth he make mention of these women in particular? Is it not plain that it is because they had already departed in their resolve from worldly affairs?

For it is not possible for one who is a woman to be hindered.

For this too is a work of the grace of God, that it hinders this nature only in the affairs of this life—nay, not even there.

For the woman hath taken upon herself no small part of the whole administration, namely the keeping of the house.

But without that part, not even the affairs of the state could ever hold together.

For if the affairs of the household should be filled with tumult and confusion, each of those engaged in public life would be forced to sit at home, and the affairs of the city would be ill ordered.

So that neither in those matters hath she the lesser share, nor in these.

For she is able to die ten thousand deaths, if only she be willing;

many at any rate have borne witness as martyrs;

she is able to practise self-control, and even more than men, inasmuch as no such fierce flame troubleth her, and to display modesty and gravity, and holiness, 'without which no man shall see the Lord,' and contempt for riches, if only they will, and, in a word, all other virtues.

'Do thy diligence,' he saith, 'to come before winter.'

How he urgeth him on! And nowhere doth he set down what is grievous.

He saith not, 'before I die,' lest he should grieve him, but, 'Come before winter,' that thou be not detained.

'Eubulus,' he saith, 'greeteth thee, and Pudens, and Linus, and Claudia, and all the brethren.'

He mentioneth them not by name.

Seest thou that those others were more fervent? 'The Lord Jesus Christ be with thy spirit.' Nothing is better than this prayer.

'Grieve not,' he saith, 'that I depart;

And he said not, 'With thee,' but, 'With thy spirit.'

The help is twofold—that of the grace of the Spirit, and that of God assisting her.

And besides, it is not possible for God to be with us, if the spiritual grace be not present;

for if we were forsaken, how should He be with us? 'Grace be with us.'

And thereafter he prayeth for himself also;

that is, that we may always be well-pleasing to Him, that we may have grace together with the gift;

for when this is present, there will be nothing grievous.

For just as he who beholdeth the king, and hath favour with him, perceiveth nothing grievous;

so too, though we be forsaken by friends, though we fall into some dire calamity, we shall take no notice of it, so long as that grace is present and walleth us about as a fortress.

But how is it possible to draw this grace unto oneself? By doing what is pleasing to God, and by obeying Him in all things.

Do we not even in great households see those servants enjoying favour who care not for their own concerns, but manage all their masters' affairs with their whole soul and eagerness—not out of the mere necessity of servitude, but out of zeal and affection—ordering all things well? When they are ever before their masters' eyes, when they busy themselves about the house, when they transact no private business, nor take thought for their own things, but rather hold their masters' interests in place of their own? For he who hath made his master's affairs his own hath not made his master's affairs his own, but hath made his own affairs his master's;

he giveth orders in like manner as his master in what belongeth to him, he beareth rule in like manner as his master.

And many of the servants fear him more than the master, and whatever this man saith, that saith the master also;

all his enemies henceforth are in fear.

But if he who in worldly matters hath despised his own things and chosen his master's did not thereby despise his own, but rather attained to greater things;

much more shall it be so in spiritual matters.

Despise thine own things, and thou hast received the things of God;

Despise the earth, and seize the kingdom of heaven;

be thou terrible from thence, not from here.

If thou art terrible from thence, thou shalt be terrible not to men only, but also to demons, and to the devil himself;

but if thy strength be from the riches that are here, thou wilt be an object of contempt to those powers, and oftentimes even to men;

however much thou grow rich, thou wilt be rich in the things of slaves;

but if thou despise these things, thou wilt be resplendent in the royal house.

Such were the apostles, who despised the servile household and the riches that are here.

And behold how they gave orders in their Master's affairs.

'Let such a one,' he saith, 'be delivered from disease,' another from demons; and 'bind that one, and loose this one.'

This was done on earth, but it was ratified as in the heavens.

'For whatsoever ye shall bind,' He saith, 'on earth, shall be bound in heaven.'

And He gave them even greater authority than His own.

And that I have not lied, hear Him saying:

'He that believeth on Me, greater works than these that I do shall he do.'

Why so? Because in this way too the honour passeth over unto the Master.

For in our own affairs also, when a servant can do great things, the master is the more admired.

For if the servant is able to do so much, how much more he that ruleth over him? But if any one, forsaking his master's service, should take thought for his own wife and child and household servant, and desire to grow rich and lay up store for himself there, either by stealing or by damaging his master's goods, he quickly destroyeth himself as well, together with his riches.

Wherefore, having these examples, I beseech you, let us not take thought for our own things, that we may take thought for ourselves;

let us despise them, that we may gain them.

If we despise them, He Himself will take care of them;

if we take care of them, God will despise them.

Let us labour in the things of God, not in our own—nay rather, in our own too;

I speak not of heaven, I speak not of earth, I speak not of the things in the world;

for these are unworthy of Him; these belong not to us only, but also to the unbelievers;

but what do I say are His? Glory, kingdom;

these are both His, and ours through Him.

How? 'If we died with Him,' he saith, 'we shall also live with Him;

if we endure, we shall also reign with Him.'

We are become joint-heirs, and are called brethren.

Why do we drag ourselves downward, when He draweth us upward and unto Himself? How long shall we be needy, how long poor? Heaven lieth before us, and do we busy ourselves about the earth? A kingdom of heaven, and do we choose the poverty that is here? Immortal life, and do we wear ourselves out over timber and stones and fields? Become rich—this too is my desire;

gain more, and seize;

here it is the not gaining more that is the charge against thee, here it is the not seizing that is the accusation.

What then is this? 'The kingdom of heaven,' He says, 'suffers violence, and the violent take it by force.'

Become violent there, become a plunderer; that which is seized is in no way diminished.

For virtue is not divided, nor is godliness diminished, nor is the kingdom of heaven.

Then virtue increases, when you seize it;

then bodily things are diminished, when you seize it.

Let there be ten thousand men in a city.

If all of them seize after virtue and righteousness, they multiply it;

for among the ten thousand there come to be righteous men.

But if they do not seize it, they have diminished it.

Do you see that in being seized good things rather increase,

whereas these bodily things in being seized rather diminish? Let us not, then, sit down beside poverty, but let us choose wealth.

It is the wealth of God that there should be many who enjoy the kingdom.

'He is rich,' it says, 'unto all and upon all that call upon Him.'

Increase His substance;

and you will increase it if you seize, if you take more, if you use violence.

Why is this? Because many are they who hinder us: wives, children, cares, worldly affairs, and along with these the demons, and the very leader of the demons himself, the devil.

There is need, therefore, of violence; there is need of endurance.

He who uses violence is in the midst of toils.

How so? He endures all things, and stands firm against necessity.

How so? He all but attempts things impossible.

If then those who use violence are of such a kind, but we do not even attempt the things that are possible, when shall we succeed? When shall we enjoy the things we long for? 'The violent,' He says, 'take the kingdom of heaven by force.'

For it does not lie open simply, nor is it ready at hand.

He who seizes is at all times sober, wide awake, thinking and taking thought, so as to seize opportunely upon his plunder.

Do you not see in wars that he who wishes to seize spoil keeps watch through the whole night, and is armed through the whole night? If, then, those who seize the things of this life keep watch by night and arm themselves, how is it that we, who wish to seize spiritual things—which require even greater zeal than these—sleep and snore even in the daytime, and continue always unarmed and naked? For he who is caught up in sins is unarmed and naked, just as he who is in righteousness is armed.

We do not fortify ourselves with almsgiving; we do not make ready for ourselves the lamps that are kindled; we do not

arm ourselves together with spiritual weapons; we do not learn the way that leads thither; we are not sober; we are not awake.

For this reason we are able to seize nothing.

If anyone should wish to make an assault upon a kingdom, does he not first set before himself ten thousand deaths? Does he not first equip himself, first practise the art of war? Does he not do everything for this end, and only so rush to the assault? But we do not act so; rather, we wish to seize while asleep;

and for this very reason we go away with empty hands.

Do you not see those who plunder, how they flee, how they run, how they cut clean through everything? There is need of running;

for immediately the devil runs down after you, and commands those in front to lay hold of you.

But if you are strong, if you are wide awake, you have kicked away the one and thrust off the other, and escaped them all like a winged creature;

and thereafter you may depart hence, and pass beyond the market-place and its great uproar—which is this present life—and come to the heights above these, which is the age to come.

For just as in a wilderness, there is no uproar, none to trouble, none to hold back.

Have you seized it? After the seizure there is need of but little effort, so that what has been taken be not snatched away;

if we run, if we look at none of the things that lie before our eyes, if we take thought for nothing else save to escape those who hinder us, we shall be able to hold fast in safety the things we have seized.

Have you seized chastity? Do not linger; flee; get far away from the devil;

if he sees that he can no longer overtake you, neither will he pursue.

So too do we, when we no longer see those who have seized anything, cease—as though giving up—neither pursuing them ourselves nor urging others to lay hold of them, but we let them go away and remain untouched.

So do you also run vigorously at the very outset.

When you have gotten far from the devil, he will no longer even make the attempt, but you will be in safety, enjoying the ineffable good things without fear;

which may it be granted to us all to attain, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, honour, and worship, now and ever, and unto the ages of the ages. Amen.