Monday, November 14, 2022

November 13, 2022 Despair 2 Timothy 3:10-4:22

             I think one of the saddest possible scenarios I could imagine would be someone on their death bed looking back over their life and feeling, “Well, that was a waste.”

            It was a waste because they feel like they’ve accomplished nothing.  Or perhaps it’s because their life’s accomplishments have been wiped out by war or natural disaster or maybe uncaring heirs.

            I’ve always felt bad for skilled artisans and craftspeople who are maybe carrying on their skill from a previous generation but now their skills are unwanted or irrelevant or being replaced by machinery.  It’s got to be tough to see your skill die with you.

            This is probably a depressing way to begin a sermon, but I think it sets us up to understand what we read from 2 Timothy.  I’ve said before that most biblical scholars don’t believe Paul actually wrote any of the pastoral epistles: 1 Timothy, 2 Timothy, and Titus.  And yet, of the three, 2 Timothy feels the most like Paul, and it has a number of things that do make it ring with some authenticity.  For example: why all names of people, and what’s this about bringing a cloak and books?  No one knows.

            I’m no expert, but I believe 2 Timothy probably contains some fragments of Paul’s actual writing.  And like 2 Corinthians, it is a composite of those fragments.

            Whatever the case, it is safe to assume that things are not going well.  Paul is in prison.  It seems that he is alone.  Most, if not all, of his associates have left him.  You get the feeling that Paul senses it is quite likely that he will be executed.  That’s certainly a sobering thought.

            And is he going to be executed for some high crime?  Is he a traitor or a murderer?  No.  Earlier in the letter he says, “For this gospel I was appointed a herald and an apostle, and a teacher, and for this reason I suffer as I do.”  (2 Timothy 1:11-12a)  He’s suffering for his faith.  So he’s in jail, he’s suffering, and he’ll probably be executed for his faith.

            Is he going to go down as some great martyr, with his followers being inspired to action by his death?  Well, he's all alone.  So no.  He may very well die in obscurity.  Indeed, while there is a church tradition that he was beheaded in Rome, there’s no real historical evidence to support it.  No matter what though, St. Paul died in relative obscurity.

            How about the churches that he founded?  How are they doing?  Well, the fact that Paul had to write so many letters to the churches he helped to found is proof that things were not going well.  While both Romans and Philippians are written to places where things are going well, the rest of the letters are about problems.  And these are not sophisticated problems that should require an expert to solve.  Paul’s letters are not talking about fine tuning a machine that is already running well.  Paul’s letters are like instructions to keep a machine running period.

            And if you look at history, how many of the churches that St. Paul founded still exist?  None.  Zero.

            So how is Paul doing sitting in jail, probably awaiting execution, with none of his supporters around him, and most of his life’s work failing?

            So much for the great and amazing missionary who probably did more to establish the early church than any other person!

            Given Paul’s situation it would be very easy to despair.  And who knows what he prayed to God about.  Maybe he cried out in anger or frustration.  Maybe he did question whether it was all true or not.  He may have had lots of thoughts and feelings he didn’t write about.  What he did write about shows that he’s aware of how tough the situation is.  Yet there is also a quiet confidence in him.

            When I say quiet confidence I do not mean magical thinking.  Paul does not say that if we all just stay faithful and believe the right things that God is sure to bring about an easy and bright future.  No, Paul fully accepts the reality ahead.

            For over a month now a couple times a week I’ve been visiting a woman from the Syracuse area who is receiving care in Strong Hospital.  It’s a long story, but to make it short, she’s a parishioner of a church in Syracuse.  She suffered a stroke and was hospitalized.  She began to recover and was sent to a rehab facility.  But then a couple weeks later she suffered a more severe stroke.  She was sent to Strong because it was believed Strong could offer better care.  It’s ridiculous for her pastor to travel all the way from Syracuse and so I was asked to visit.

            At first there was hope she’d be able to recover.  How much we didn’t know, but significant recovery.  But in time that hope has diminished.  Her family has been posting things about her condition on Facebook.  They tell me that people reply with kind thoughts.  That’s good.  But there are also comments like, “I’m sure she’ll recover.”  And, “Keep praying and she’s sure to get better.”  And, “She’s looking so good.  It won’t be long now.”

            But when I visit her and report to her family I’m pretty straightforward with them.  She is stagnant at best.  She is not improving.  She will not improve.  That assessment fits with their own feelings when they travel to see her.  They’ve commented that they’re sure all her Facebook friends mean well.  But they also have to face reality.  This is not a good situation.  It will not get better.

            At the same time they are not despairing.  They know their family member is in God’s hands.  They have long entrusted her future to God.  They let it go from there.  I met with them at the hospital a few weeks ago and they commented that it’s surprising how many people say she should fight on, when that is the last thing to do.  Wouldn’t the trusting Christian response be to just begin withdrawing treatment and let her die?  Don’t people actually trust God that they fight death so much, and think it is loss and failure?

            I’ve been impressed with their faith and trust.  They’re certainly not happy.  But there is a resigned sense of acceptance and contentment.

            That is what we see in what we read from 2 Timothy.  He will probably not be released from prison.  His faithfulness will not rescue him miraculously.  The problems in his churches will probably continue after he is gone.  Some of his churches will fail.  Some will continue on.  How much his life will impact the world is unknown.  He does not feel special.  But he knows that God will continue to work through him and through the people he’s touched.

            He writes, “I solemnly urge you; proclaim the message; be persistent whether the time is favorable or unfavorable; convince, rebuke, and encourage, with the utmost patience in teaching.”  (2 Timothy 4:1b-2)

            There’s no anger in those words.  There’s also no despair or depression.  It is not resigned acceptance.  It is a confident conviction that God’s got this.

            He can go to sleep at night, or be lying on his death bed, or if he was executed - right before his execution, and know that he had lived and loved in faith.  There was no greater or more lasting way to live than that.

            When things in life don’t go well it is easy to despair.  It is easy to become depressed.  I won’t criticize anyone whose life experiences have put them in such a place.  We need to feel what we feel.  But there is also a foundation of hope based on God’s promises.  That hope is not that tomorrow will somehow be sunnier.  It is the hope that God holds tomorrow, and that the work of today was not wasted.

            I sense that is the faith the author of 2 Timothy is trying to encourage in his readers.  It is a faith that is deep and enduring.  May we who also read 2 Timothy almost 2000 years later strive to have such faith.  May God bring that to life in us and give us a sure confidence in his actions for this world.

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