Annual Sermons: Vol. 3 Sermon 8
Bob Marcaurelle 2 Timothy 4:21
COME BEFORE WINTER
A famous psychologist said that if the news came over our radio and television stations that the nuclear bombs were headed our way, the TELEPHONE BOOTHS would be filled instantly. In the face of death our thoughts would be of people - people we love and who love us.
This is what Paul did. Locked in a Roman prison he sensed that death was near. He wrote, “. . .the time has come for my departure” (4:6). And what does ht do next? He says to Timothy, “Do your best to come to me QUICKLY. Demas. . .has deserted me. . .Crescens has gone to Galatia, and Titus to Dalmatia. Only Luke is with me. Get Mark and bring him with you” (4:9-11). He goes on to ask for his books and for his cloak (12-13). He tells how Alexander the copper-smith did him great harm. He tells how the Lord stood by him at his first trial although everyone else deserted him (16-18). And then, with what seems like a “P.S.,” for the letter seems to end with verse 18, he says in verse 21, “Do your best to come before winter.”
Any student of history recognizes the name “Napoleon.” He was the little general of France who tried to enslave the world but was beaten by the Russian winter. He died a prisoner, in exile on an island in the South Atlantic. He and Paul both died in prison and perhaps these are the two most famous prisoners of history.
How similar yet how different. As Napoleon sat like an eagle in a cage he would think about the wars waged to bring about an iron-fisted peace. But Paul would think about the gospel campaigns where he sought to bring peace within men, between me and between men and God. Napoleon would look back t cities he had wasted in his thirst for power. Paul would look back at cities he had blessed with his thirst to see people saved. Napoleon would look back at all the blood he had shed in his lust for conquest. Paul would look back at the blood HE HIMSELF had shed in his love for Christ.
Napoleon ended his life with these pitiful words, “I wonder if there is anyone who truly loves me.” My, what a sad way to leave this world, devoid of love and companionship, not sure of anyone’s love. Paul, however, ended his life with the assurance that he was loved. He ended his life writing letters for his Friend and to his friends. Timothy is a love letter! In it he mentions many friends, four of whom stand out above all the others.
First and foremost is his best Friend, Jesus Christ. Paul said in verse 16 that at his first trial nobody stood with me but He stood with me. Nobody cared, but He cared. Nobody was by my side but He was by my side. It is an unbelievable comfort for us to know that Jesus will never leave us and that when Jesus is all we have, He will be enough to meet our needs and see us through.
This, however, does not mean we do not need the human touch of earthly friends. We do! And so Paul mentions to Timothy, two others who means more than life to him. The first is Luke, the beloved physician, the medical missionary, the doctor of Paul, who joined him on his missionary journeys, who was by his side. The second was John Mark who had failed Paul early in life by leaving the first missionary journey. He had somehow redeemed himself and Paul said, “Bring Mark because he is helpful to me” (4:11).
Closest of all, however, was the fourth friend, this young pastor, Timothy, whom Paul called his “son” (1:2). Many scholars believe that since Timothy came from Lystra, that when Paul was stoned and lay half dead and bleeding beneath the rocks, it was Timothy who lifted him up, took him into his home and nursed him back to life.
In the hour before death Paul called on Timothy. He asked him to come and bring some books. Perhaps he felt a chill in the air, the hint of winter, and he said, “Oh, yes. Bring my cloak.” Oh, my friends, what a cloak that was! Wouldn’t you love to see the cloak of the Apostle Paul? That cloak had been wet with the brine of the Mediterranean, white with the snows of Galatia, yellow with the dust of Asia and red with the blood of his wounds for service to Christ.
He asked for his books, he asked for his cloak and he asked for his friends. And then with a note of urgency he added the postscript, Timothy, do your best to come before winter. Why did he say that? If you read the Book of Acts, chapter 27, you will see that winter was a dangerous time to sail the Med. Sea. Thousands of ships have gone to the bottom ignoring the danger of her fierce winter storms. Thus the Mediterranean was closed during the winter months and if Timothy didn’t hurry he would not get there until the Spring. And Paul was not sure he would be alive in the Spring. And so he was really saying, if you don’t come now, if you don’t come before winter, you just might not make it in time.
Suppose Timothy, touched by Paul’s request, had said, “Paul needs me and I must go but first I have to take care of some matters that cannot wait. I must make sure my church staff has its work laid out for it. I must go to Miletus and ordain some pastors. I have to speak at the Southern Baptist Convention in Laodicea.” After tending to these matters he goes to Troas and inquires when the next ship sails for Rome. He is told, “The sea is closed. There will be no ships for Italy until Spring.
All through the anxious winter Timothy watches the sky for signs of Spring and thinks of Paul. The days seem like weeks and Spring seems like it will never come. When the first ship sails form Troas he is on it. Timothy is in a hurry now. Landing at Neapolis he hurries to Rome and to the prison. When he asks about Paul, he is cursed and repulsed by the uncaring guard. He then goes to the home of some Christian like Claudia and asks, “Where is Paul? I am here.” “Are you Timothy,” they ask. He responds. They go on, “Timothy, Paul is dead. They cut off his head in January. You’re the one he talked about the most. Every time the guard stuck the key in the door he looked up to see if it was you. His last message to us was, ‘When Timothy gets here, tell him I love him.’”
I hope this wasn’t Timothy’s response. I hope when he read, “The time of my departure is at hand. . .Come before winter,” that he dropped everything and left for Rome. I hope he told his church staff they would have to get along without him. I hope he told the church at Miletus that someone else would have to head up the ordination. I hops he told the com¬mittee to get someone else to preach the Convention sermon.
We are not sure Paul died during this imprisonment. But when he did, and if it was at this time, I would like to believe that Luke and Mark and Timothy were with him. I would like to believe they all came before winter, that they walked with Paul to the place of execution, that they watched him go up to glory, and that they lovingly place his body in the grave to await the resurrection.
This passage reminds us that many voices cry out to us and say, “Come before winter.” There are many things in life that if we do not do now, they will not get done. Voices cry out to us saying that if we wait until the Spring, the Spring flowers will bloom upon the grave of some missed opportunity. And all we can do is look upon that grave and say, “I missed my chance.” Do you hear the voices? Do you her. . .
I. THE VOICE OF CHANGE
Mark heard it. He went from being a coward to a hero. He made a change after his failure that kept him from being a failure. Psychologists often speak of the “teachable moment.” Human nature is highly complex and is in a constant state of change. And all of us pass through those times when we are more reachable and teachable than ever before. This is our “fork in the road,” our hour of decision. And once we miss our chance, it is often impossible to undo the consequences of our mistake.
Macartney tells of a man in a hotel room who had been a slave to alcohol. He had been victorious over it for a short time. This particular night the temptation seemed stronger than ever. He was just about to yield. He had his hand on the telephone to call for a bottle. But suddenly, as though he had been confronted by an angel from heaven, an inner voice said to him, “This is your hour. If you yield to this temptation now, it will destroy you. If you conquer it now, you are its master forever.” He refused to yield and broke its power over him.
We preach the gospel of the second chance and the ten thousandth chance. We all know the joy of forgiveness and starting over. But we also know of countless Christians who in their hour of decision lost the battle and condemned themselves to a life they cannot escape. The children of Israel came to Kadesh Barnea, on the edge of the Promised Land, and refused to go in because they were afraid (Num. 13:30-33). And God sentenced them to spend their lives, forty years, in the wilderness. God has sen¬tenced a lot of Christian to life in the wilderness because they spit on their chance when they had it. Shakespeare said it long ago: “There is a tide in the affairs of men/Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune/Omitted all the voyage of their life/Is bound in shallows and in miseries.”
II. THE VOICE OF COMPASSION
When a loved one dies a slow death over a period of months, one good thing that comes from it, is that we get to SHOW our love. When someone we love dies suddenly, too often we never let them know how much we really cared. This text reminds us to show love to the living in the here and now.
Children have a way of saying to their parents, “Come before winter.” If you are going to spend time with me; to get to know me; to share yourself with me; to love me - it is now or never. When people with grown children see my little girls, most of them say the same thing. They tell me to enjoy them while they are little because before I know it they will be grown and gone. Wouldn’t it be wonderful, says Charles Allen, if we could put our children in deep freeze and keep them there until we have time for them?
Parents, little arms are reaching out to you today and if you are too busy to notice, you are too busy. Our biggest mistake is to work hard to give our children “things” when what they really want is “us.” A dear friend of mine and I were talking about his teenage son and with a touch of sadness he said, “Bob, that boy is grown and I haven’t taken the time to know him.” Two years later that boy was killed in a tragic accident. Come before winter or don’t come at all.
Parents are crying, “Come before winter.” Oh, how quickly our parents grow old and die. And how sad it is to stand by their coffin and remember the multitudes of kindnesses we left undone and words we left unsaid.
Husbands and wives are saying to each other, “Come before winter.”
Thomas Carlyle was a giant in the field of literature. He married his secretary, who labored with him for years in his prolific writings. He was so absorbed in his work that he let her continue working for several weeks after she became ill. She had a slow growing cancer. Finally she was confined to her bed. Carlyle loved her but never found time to stay with her very long. When the end came and they took her to the cemetery, it was a rainy day and the mud was deep. After the funeral, Carlyle returned home, badly shaken. He climbed the stairs to her room and sat in a chair by her bed, realizing how little time he had spent with her in her illness. He picked up her bedside diary and glanced through it. A sentence jumped from its pages, “Yesterday he spent an hour with me and it was like being in heaven; I love him so.” He turned to the next page. The words broke his heart, “I have listened all day for his steps in the hall, but now it is late and I guess he won’t come today.” He read a few more pages, threw the book down and rushed through the rain to the cemetery. His friends found hm face down in the mud of that new grave, weeping and saying over and over, “If I had only known, if I had only known.”
III. THE VOICE OF CONVERSION
With little time left I remind you that the voice of conversion says, “Come before winter!” It says it to the lost when God says, ”My Spirit will not always strive with man” (Gen. 6).
It says it to the witness when it speaks of the night when no man can work (Jn. 9:4). A pastor friend of mine told me of a man in his community who was shot and killed. With great sadness he said, “I tried to witness to him several times but it never did any good.” I’ll tell you something far sadder than this - if that pastor HAD NOT TRIED TO WITNESS. The lost say to us, “Come before winter.”¬
