This is what the Apostle Paul requested from Timothy. He wrote, “The cloak that I left at Troas with Carpus, when thou comest, bring with thee, and the books, but especially the parchments” These were the last days of the apostle. The words imply that these were the only possessions the Apostle Paul had before he was executed. He knew that he would not leave that prison alive. Throughout his life the Apostle Paul had exhorted the brethren, encouraged them, to endure all things. He could have been very frustrated with the state of affairs after everything he had done, but he was not. “Therefore I endure all things for the elect’s sakes” (2 Timothy 2:10-12). What marvelous words! He endured all things for you and for me “for the elect’s sakes, that they may also obtain the salvation which is in Christ Jesus with eternal glory.” This is the sacrifice he made. He was a faithful apostle, one of the greatest. “It is a faithful saying: For if we be dead with him, we shall also live with him: If we suffer, we shall also reign with him.”

NERO, THE BASE EMPEROR

Nero was the emperor at this time. Paul was in the Roman prison. We see two outstanding personalities, two intensely conflicting characters. It was a time when Christians were persecuted for their belief. Nero was the last of the Caesars -a cruel ruler, with the deepest of sins and abysmal depravity. The Apostle Paul was the model of excellence and holiness.

In them we see the representations of two civilizations, two religions, two histories, two distinct dispensations face to face. Nero had the power, Paul was subject to him. Nero lived the crown and flower of luxurious and guilty splendor, while Paul was in prison as an example of all who live in earthly misery and yet may be the happiest saints of God.

Nero was only thirty years of age, and stained through and through with every possible crime. He was steeped to the very depth of every nameless degradation. Of all iniquities, there was scarcely one of which Nero had not been guilty. This man was not content with every existing form of vice and sin in which the taint of human nature had found vent; he became an inventor of even more evil.

He usurped the throne. When his father died, his mother married Claudius, emperor of Rome, who designated Nero as his eldest son. When Claudius died (54 AD), Nero, under the guise of affection, poisoned Britannicus, son of Claudius, potential rival to Nerds succession to the throne. Nero had already married Britannicus’ sister, Octavia, and he also poisoned her. He was tired of his mother’s interference, and ordered her execution. Deep in her own guilt, she had committed her many crimes because of her love for Nero. Historians seem to have exhausted every description in this horrible catalog of vice and crime.

Nero took Christians and, in order to enlighten his large court, would put them onto a stake, tie them there, pour tar over them, and burn them. Here was Paul, a prisoner, facing this emperor.

PAUL, THE NOBLE PRISONER

On the other hand, we have a great contrast in the Apostle Paul. He had spent his whole life in the pursuit of truth and the practice of holiness. Even from boyhood he was a grave and earnest student of the Law of God. He surpassed in learning and faithfulness all the other pupils of the wise, in the school of the great doctor of the Law, Gamaliel. His natural temperament was one of intense zeal even prior to the time that he was converted. When he was asked by the Lord, “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?” he replied, “Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?” Thus he immediately redirected his zeal to the true cause of God.

Can we blame Paul for what he did in ignorance? Upon conversion, he was convinced of his new goal and purpose in life. Most men, even the holy and learned, find it hard to admit their fallibility and mistakes and to return to the role of humble learners. Yet Paul meekly admitted that he was at fault and must change instantly.

Did ever a man toil like this man? Rise to nobler superiority over the vain objects of human desire? More fully and unmurmuringly resign his whole life to God? Has it ever been granted to any other man, in spite of all his trials, obstructions and persecutions, to force his way, in the very teeth of antagonisms, to so full an achievement of that which God had entrusted to his care?

St. Paul had braved the disdain of enemies, friends and brethren. Shrinking from disapproval, with his warm nature ever craving human love, he had encountered violent scorn of the most intense descriptions-not only of individuals but of entire factions, not only of aliens but of his own countrymen, not only of Jews but even of those who professed the same faith with himself. As he described to Timothy very clearly, “Alexander the coppersmith did me much evil: the Lord reward him according to his works. Of whom be thou ware also; for he hath greatly withstood our words. At my first answer no man stood with me, but all forsook me: I pray God that it may not be laid to their charge.”

What a marvelous disposition, this faith that he had naturally preferring to withdraw from pain, he had endured all this-every form of agony. With a body weakened by hardship, the many perils and miseries were but a fragment of what he had suffered.

What had he done? He had secured the triumph of giving a true presentation of the Messiah to his own people. He had launched Christianity before the Gentiles and the pagan world. He had created a language, coordinated doctrines, overthrown obstacles of that faith which is the one source and hope, the love and the ultimate deliverance of the world from sin and death. That is what he had done.

For this, his last days were spent in prison in Rome. Nero had imperial power; Paul, abject weakness. Nero had his youth; Paul was about 63 years old at this time.

Paul was crowned with holiness. His life had been one of utter self-sacrifice; Nerds life that of self-indulgence. Paul represented Christianity in its dawning brightness; Nero, paganism in its exhausted despair. They represented two theories of life: Paul, the simplicity of self-denial and endurance, a willingness to give up life itself for the good of others; Nero, the luxury of shameless self-love and self-gratification which valued no consideration, divine or human, in comparison with a new sensation.

Paul was the slave of Christ; Nero, the incarnation of Satanic wickedness. How much was the course of this world under the control of the prince of the power of the air! Personified wickedness was clothed in purple and seated on the throne amidst the ensigns of splendor without limit and power beyond control. And he whose life has exhibited all that was great and noble in the heart of man stood in peril of execution, fettered, despised and hated.

THE APOSTLE WAITS HIS END

After his first defense, which had resulted in no decision, Paul was remanded to prison. Roman law was still Roman law, and except where passions of unusual intensity interfered, some respect was still paid to the forms of justice under this law.

For the time, at any rate, Paul was rescued out of the lion’s mouth (v. 17): “Notwithstanding the Lord stood with me, and strengthened me; that by me the preaching might be fully known, and that all the Gentiles might hear: and I was delivered out of the mouth of the lion.”

There was some flaw in the indictment, some deficiency in the evidence. The apostle well knew that it was but a recess, permitted for a time. His adversaries would soon gather more testimony, and the case would be resumed. Back in his dungeon he would, by God’s grace, make good use of the little season. He could well use further time in prayerful reflection.

Besides this, he would in his second and last letter to Timothy leave his dying message. What were our well beloved Brother Paul’s contemplations as he awaited his second defense in the Roman court? We cannot know, but we have this one writing, his last letter to Timothy.

He knew his doom was fixed, his end but a little distance ahead. Very probably this great man of God, approaching the end branded as a convict, was experiencing the best, richest, and deepest meditations of his life.

HIS LAST PLEAS

As one would expect, his thoughts were uppermost of his much-loved son Timothy. He would call from the depths of his soul, and offer Timothy the best counsel of which he was capable, assisted by the Lord’s spirit. He wished to safeguard the young man’s spiritual life and heritage, and strengthen him as a true, trusted minister in Paul’s absence.

In 2 Timothy 4:8 we practically hear Paul’s last words. The additional expression in verse 9 is a tender, touching appeal: “Do thy diligence to come shortly unto me.” The remainder of the letter is occupied with personal mention and information concerning brethren.

We pause and reflect on the apostle’s last pleas. It is a simple, touching passage, seemingly incidental, yet impressive. This is where he asked for his cloak and his books, and especially his parchments-necessary possessions which may have been all he could call his own. What light this throws on the closing, sad days of the persecuted apostle!

Leaving his cloak at the house of Carpus after he was liberated from his first imprisonment may indicate his sudden arrest at Troas or on the way to it. A prisoner who was being hurried from place to place by unsympathizing keepers was little able to look after his property.

In verse 21 Paul reminded Timothy again, “Do thy diligence to come before winter.” The chill of the season was setting in. The aged prisoner knew the Roman prison might be very cold. He wanted to get back his travelling cloak, one of those large, sleeveless garments we might call an overcoat.

It may have been a very dear possession; he could have woven it himself – of the goat’s hair of his native province. It was probably an old companion used on many of his travels. Possibly it was wetted in the torrents of Asia where he travelled, whitened with the dust of the Roman roads, stained with the brine of shipwreck. He may have slept in it outdoors as a shelter on the chilly nights under the canopy of the stars. It may have covered his bruised limbs in the dungeon of Philippi when he was there.

It was of little monetary value, but now aging Paul sat shivering in a gloomy cell, the winter nights not far away. He yearned for its warmth.

The papyrus books would be old friends of Paul. Perhaps he had acquired them as a student of Gamaliel. They may have been given him by wealthy converts.

What were the parchments?

We speculate. Perhaps among them was the diploma of his Roman franchise; perhaps some precious rolls of Isaiah and the Psalms. Probably his parents had given him such manuscripts as a life-long treasure, in those far-off happy days when they had not dreamed of all that would befall him.

Dreary and long were the days, and the evenings still more, in that dungeon. It would be a joy to read once more how David and Isaiah learned in their deep troubles, as he had learned, to suffer and be strong. This simple message from the prophets’ words – Paul never relinquished his reliance on that, the Word of God. They might add comfort and relief to the tedium of his days. Perhaps he would like to give them as his parting bequest to Timothy.

It was a poor inventory of a saint’s possessions. But with the cloak to warm him, the books and parchments to teach and encourage him, with Mark to help; if Timothy could come himself, then life would shed on Paul its last rays of sunshine. He wanted that comfort.

In lesser things, as in greater, he would wait with thankfulness, even exultation, the pouring out as an offering, those last drops of effort, of which the long years had been flowing forth upon God’s altar in willing sacrifice.

CALM AND FAITHFUL IN HIS LAST DAYS

We see the panoramic view here, of Paul’s last days. Was Paul discouraged, disheartened, disillusioned? Did he murmur or complain? No. There was nothing of a depressing nature in those final words of St. Paul.

It is said of some great men that the characteristic of waning life is disenchantment, a sense of inexorable weariness, inevitable disappointment. Elijah had discouraging moments. John the Baptist asked “Art thou he that should come, or do we look for another?”

Noble, courageous men have cried “My trials are more than I can manage. Men are not worth the trouble I have taken for them” Well-intentioned world leaders have become totally disheartened. They have checked their zeal, curbed their enthusiasm, darkened with the shadows of experience the radiant hopes of their followers.

Paul might have been excused if he had come to this conclusion.

What visible success had he achieved? He had founded a few churches; the majority were already cold to him. He saw his efforts being slowly undermined, and a world utterly hostile to the faith of Christ. It had arraigned against the cross all its intelligence and power. What could doves do among serpents? Sheep among wolves? The very name “Christian” had now come to be regarded as synonymous with “criminal” and “Jew” and “pagan.”

In the ruins of a storm, water and fire unite to wreck the landscape; so the opposing forces of Paul’s message were united in hostility to the truths he had preached.

What had he gained personally? Power? No. At his worst need, there had not been one friend to stand by his side. Had he gained love? No. He had learned how few there were that were not ashamed even to own him in his misery. What was his condition? He was a lonely prisoner awaiting a malefactor’s end. What was the sum total of earthly goods that the long labor of his life had brought him? An old cloak, some books, and parchments.

And yet, in what spirit did Paul write to Timothy? Did he regret his hard life? Did he dampen the courage of his younger friend by telling him that almost every earthly hope is doomed to failure and that the struggle against human wickedness is a fruitless fight? No. Instead, this last letter was far more a song of triumph than one of dejection and despair. For himself, life was ending, the race run, the treasure safely guarded, his day’s work in the Master’s vineyard well nigh over. He was assured that when it would be totally finished, the unspeakable reward would be laid up for him, held in reserve. He was looking forward to the return of his Master, when he would receive the crown of righteousness that fadeth not away.

Timothy received joy and encouragement, even in the midst of natural sadness, when he read Paul’s letter. It was Timothy, not Paul, who was in danger of yielding to anger and timidity and forgetting that the spirit that God gave was not of fear but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

That was why Paul guided and directed Timothy: Bear afflictions with me. Be strong in the grace of Jesus Christ. Fan up the flame in those whitening embers of zeal and courage. Be a good soldier, a true athlete, a diligent toiler.

Do you, Timothy, think of my chains and my hardships? They are not worth a thought. Be brave. Be not ashamed. We are weak and may be defeated if we trust in ourselves. Nevertheless, God’s foundation stone stands sure with a double legend upon it – of comfort, of exhortation. Be thou strong and faithful, even unto death.

THE LOYAL BEARER PASSES THE TORCH

St. Paul handed to the dear but timid racer the torch of truth which was in his grasp through the long torch race of his life. No cowardice had hidden, no carelessness had dimmed, no storm had quenched it. Would that every leader’s voice could burst forth as he falls in such a trumpet sound, thrilling the young hearts that pant in the good fight, never despairing of final victory!

The poet says, “Hopes have precarious life, they are oft blighted, withered, snapped off in vigorous youth and turned to rottenness; but faithfulness can feed on suffering and knows no disappointment.” So it was with Paul. Years before he had written: “We both hunger, and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and have no certain dwelling place; And labor, working with our own hands: being reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we suffer it: being defamed, we intreat. We are made as the filth of the world, and are the offscouring of all things” (I Corinthians 4:11-13). The secret of St. Paul’s spiritual brilliance is that he fully gave himself up to God, to do the Father’s will. God used him perhaps to a greater extent than he ever used another man, with the exception of our Lord Jesus.

Paul had the spirit of the Truth. He never wavered. He was a rejoicing saint of the New Creation. He said “I am ready to be offered. The time of my departure is at hand.”

– Frank Boychuk

 

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