Paul–His Cloak And His Books

Paul–His Cloak And His Books
A SERMON DELIVERED ON SUNDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 29, 1863, BY THE REV. C.
H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.
"The cloak that I left at Troas with Carpus, when you come, bring with
you, and the books, but especially the parchments." 2 Timothy 4:13.
FOOLISH persons have made remarks upon the trifles of Scripture. They
have marveled why so little a matter as a cloak should be mentioned in
an Inspired Book. But they ought to know that this is one of the many
indications that the Book is by the same Author as the Book of Nature.
Are there not things which our short-sightedness would call trifles in
the volume of Creation around us? What is the peculiar value of the
daisy upon the lawn, or the buttercup in the meadow? Compared with the
rolling sea, or the eternal hills, how inconsiderable they seem!
Why has the humming bird a plumage so wondrously bejeweled and why is
so much marvelous skill expended upon the wing of a butterfly? Why such
curious machinery in the foot of a fly, or such a matchless optical
arrangement in the eye of a spider? Because to most men these are
trifles, are they to be left out of Nature's plans? No. Because
greatness of Divine skill is as apparent in the minute as in the
magnificent–even so in Holy Writ–the little things which are embalmed
in the amber of Inspiration are far from inappropriate or unwise.
Besides, in Providence are there not trifles? It is not every day that
a nation is rent by revolution, or a throne shaken by rebellion–far
oftener a bird's nest is destroyed by a child, or an anthill overturned
by a spade. It is not at every hour that a torrent inundates a
province, but how frequently do the dewdrops moisten the green leaves?
We do not often read of hurricanes, tornadoes and earthquakes, but the
annals of Providence could reveal the history of many a grain of dust
borne along in the summer's gale, many a sear leaf rent from the poplar
and many a rush waving by the river's brim.
Learn to see in the little things of the Bible the God of Providence
and Nature. Observe two pictures and you will, if thoroughly skilled in
art, detect certain minute details which indicate the same authorship
if they are by the same hand. The very little things often, to men of
artistic eye, identify the painter more certainly than the more
prominent strokes, which might far more easily be counterfeited.
Experts detect a handwriting by a slight quivering in the upstrokes,
the turn of the final mark, a dot, a cross, or even less matters.
Can we not see the legible handwriting of the God of Nature and
Providence in the very fact that the sublimities of Revelation are
interspersed with homely, everyday remarks? But they are not trifles. I
venture to say that my text has much in it of spiritual instruction. I
trust that this cloak may warm your hearts this morning, that these
books may give you instruction, and that the Apostle himself may be to
you an example of heroism, fitted to stir your minds to imitation.
I. First, let us LOOK AT THIS MEMORABLE CLOAK which Paul left with
Carpus at Troas. Troas was a principal seaport town of Asia Minor. Very
likely the Apostle Paul was seized at Troas on the second occasion of
his being taken before the Roman emperor. The soldiers usually
appropriated to themselves any extra garments in the possession of an
arrested person, such things being considered as the perquisites of
those who made the arrest. The Apostle may have been forewarned of his
seizure, and therefore prudently committed his few books and his outer
garment, which made up all his household stuff, to the care of a
certain honest man named Carpus.
Although Troas was a full six hundred miles' journey from Rome, yet the
Apostle Paul is too poor to purchase a garment, and so directs Timothy,
as he is coming that way, to bring his cloak. He needs it much, for the
sharp winter is coming on and the dungeon is very, very chilly. This is
a brief detail of the circumstances. What kind of cloak it was, certain
learned commentators have spent whole pages in trying to discover. But
as we know nothing at all about it, ourselves, we will leave the
question to them–believing that they know as much as we do, but no
more.
1. But what does the cloak teach us? There are five or six lessons in
it. The first is this–let us perceive here, with admiration, the
complete self-sacrifice of the Apostle Paul for the Lord's sake.
Remember, my dear Friends, what the Apostle once was. He was great,
famous, and wealthy. He had been brought up at the feet of Gamaliel. He
was so zealous among his brethren that he could not but have commanded
their sincere respect. He was attended by a guard of soldiers when he
went from Jerusalem to Damascus. I do not know whether the horse on
which he rode was his own, but he must have been a man of importance to
have been allotted so important a post in religious matters.
He was a man of good standing in society and doubtless everybody
looking at young Saul of Tarsus would have said, "He will make a great
man. He has every chance in life. He has a liberal education, a zealous
temperament, abundant gifts and the general esteem of the Jewish
rulers. He will rise to eminence." But when the Lord met him that day
on the road to Damascus, how everything changed with him! Then he could
truly say, "But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for
Christ. Yes, doubtless and I count all things but loss for the
excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have
suffered the loss of all things and do count them but dung, that I may
win Christ and be found in Him."
He begins to preach–away goes his character. Now nothing is too bad
for Paul among his Jewish associates. "Away with such a fellow from the
earth. It is not fit that he should live," was the exact expression of
Jewish feeling towards him. He continues his labors and away has gone
his wealth–he has either scattered it among the poor, or it has been
sequestered by his former friends. He journeys from place to place at
no small sacrifice of comfort. The wife to whom he was probably once
united–for no unmarried man could vote in the Sanhedrim as Paul did
against Stephen–had fallen sick and died and the Apostle now preferred
a life of singleness, that he might give himself entirely to his work.
If only in this world he had hope, he would have been of all men the
most miserable. He has at last grown gray, and now the very men who
owed their conversion to him have forsaken him. When he first came into
Rome they stood with him, but now they have all gone like winter's
leaves, and the poor old man, "such an one as Paul the aged," sits with
nothing in all the world to call property but an old cloak and a few
books–and those are six hundred miles away. Ah, how he emptied
himself, and to what extremity of destitution was he willing to bring
himself for Christ's name sake!
Do not complain that he mentions his clothes–a greater than he did so
and did so in an hour more solemn than that in which Paul wrote the
Epistle. Remember who it was that said, "They parted My garments among
them and upon My vesture did they cast lots." The Savior must die in
absolute nakedness and the Apostle is made something like He as he sits
shivering in the cold.
Brethren, was Paul right in all this? Were his sacrifices reasonable?
Was the object which he contemplated worthy of all this suffering and
self-denial? Was he carried away by an excessive heat of fanaticism to
spend upon an inferior object what was not required of him? No Believer
here thinks so. You all believe that if you could give up substance and
talent and esteem, yes, and your own life, also, for Christ, it would
be well spent. I say you think so, but how many of us have ever carried
it out? Had I not better say, how few of us? There are some who seldom
have an opportunity for sacrificing for Christ at all. What they give
is spared from their superfluity–they never feel it.
It is a high luxury when a man has such a love for Jesus that he is
able to give until he pinches himself. If Paul were reasonable, what
are you and I? If Paul only gives as a Christian should do, how ashamed
should we be of ourselves? If he will bring himself to poverty for
Christ, what shall we say of those base-born professors who will not
lose a trifle in their trade for honesty's sake? What shall we say of
those who say "I know how to get money and I know how to keep it, too,"
and look with scorn upon those who are more generous than they? If you
are content to condemn Paul and charge him with folly, do so. But if
not, if this is but a reasonable service and such as the infinite Grace
of God which Paul experienced required of him, then let us do something
of the like sort. If you have experienced as much love, love the Lord
as much and spend and be spent for the Lord Jesus!
2. Secondly, dear Friends, we learn how utterly forsaken the Apostle
was by his friends. If he had not a cloak of his own, could not some of
them lend him one? Ten years before, the Apostle was brought in chains
along the Appian way to Rome. And fifty miles before he reached Rome, a
little band of members of the Church came to meet him. And when he came
within twenty miles of the city, at the "Three Taverns," there came a
still larger group of the disciples to escort him, so that the chained
prisoner, Paul, went into Rome attended by all the Believers in that
city.
He was then a younger man. But now for some reason or other, ten years
afterward, nobody comes to visit him. He is confined in prison and they
do not even know where he is, so that Onesiphorus, when he comes to
Rome, has to seek him out very diligently. He is as obscure as if he
had never had a name and though he is still as great and glorious an
Apostle as ever, men have so forgotten him, and the Church has so
despised him that he is friendless! The Philippian Church, ten years
before, had made a collection for him when he was in prison. And though
he had learned in whatsoever state he was, to be content, yet he
thanked them for their contribution as an offering of a sweet smelling
savor unto God.
Now he is old and no Church remembers him. He is brought to trial and
there are Eubulus and Pudens and Linus– will not some of them stand by
his side when he is brought before the emperor? "At my first answer no
man stood with me." Poor soul, he served his God and worked himself
down to poverty for the Church's sake, yet the Church has forsaken him!
Oh, how great must have been the anguish of the loving heart of Paul at
such ingratitude! Why did not the few who were in Rome, if they had
been ever so poor, make a contribution for him? Could not those who
were of Caesar's household have found a cloak for the Apostle? No. He
is so utterly left, that although he is ready to die of fever in the
dungeon, not a soul will lend or give him a cloak.
What patience does this teach to those similarly situated! Has it
fallen to your lot, my Brother, to be forsaken of friends? Were there
other times when your name was the symbol of popularity, when many
lived in your favor like insects in your sunbeam? And has it come to
this, now, that you are forgotten as a dead man out of mind? In your
greatest trials do you find your fewest friends? Have those who once
loved and respected you fallen asleep in Jesus? And have others turned
out to be hypocritical and untrue? What are you to do now?
You are to remember this case of the Apostle. It is put here for your
comfort. He had to pass through as deep waters as any that you are
called to ford, and yet remember, he says, "Notwithstanding, the Lord
stood with me and strengthened me." So now, when man deserts you, God
will be your Friend. This God is our God forever and ever–not in
sunshiny weather only, but forever and ever! This God is our God in
dark nights as well as in bright days.
Go to Him, spread your complaint before Him. Murmur not. If Paul had to
suffer desertion, you must not expect better usage. Let not your faith
fail you as though some new thing had happened to you. This is common
to the saints. David had his Ahithophel, Christ his Judas, Paul his
Demas–and can you expect to fare better than they? As you look at that
old cloak, as it speaks of human ingratitude, be of good courage and
wait on the Lord, for He shall strengthen your heart. "Wait, I say, on
the Lord."
3. There is a third lesson. Our text shows the Apostle's independence
of mind. Why did not the Apostle borrow a cloak? Why did he not beg
one? No, no, no! That is not to the Apostle's taste at all. He has a
cloak and though it is six hundred miles away, he will wait until it
comes. Though there may be some that may lend, he knows that they who
go a borrowing go a sorrowing, and that they who beg are seldom
welcome. I do not think a Christian man should blush to borrow or to
beg if he is absolutely brought to it, but I never like that class of
people who do either systematically.
I wish many of the poor would not damage the charity of others by being
so ready to beg on every presence of necessity. A Christian man would
do well to remember that it is never to his honor, though it is not
always to his dishonor, to beg. "I cannot dig, to beg I am ashamed,"
said the unfaithful steward. And if he had been a faithful one he would
have been more ashamed, still. I say again, when it comes to the pinch
and a man must ask of his fellows, let him do it boldly. But let him
never be too ready to do it, but, like the Apostle, as long as he can
do without it, let him say, "I have labored with my own hand and eaten
no man's bread for nothing."
He taught that the minister of God had a right to be supported by the
people. "If you partake of their spirituals," says he, "it is right
that you give of your temporals." He insists upon it that they are not
to muzzle the mouth of the ox that treads out the corn. Yet though he
holds this as a great general principle, he never takes anything
himself. He follows his trade of tent making. He stitches away at the
canvas and earns his own living so that he is chargeable unto no man.
Noble example! How anxious all Christians ought to be to see that they
do not come to want in their old age!
Yet Paul does come to poverty–his independent spirit is not broken at
the last, for he will wait till his own cloak is brought six hundred
miles rather than ask any man to give or lend. Let the Christian man be
quite as independent, for though independence is not a Christian grace,
yet it is a common grace which, when wreathed with Christianity, is
very beautiful and befits the character of a son of God.
4. The fourth remark is–see here, how very little the Apostles thought
about how they were dressed. Paul wants enough to keep him warm. He
asks no more. There is no doubt whatever that the other parts of his
garments were getting very dilapidated–that he was, indeed, in a state
of rags. And so he needed the cloak to wrap about him. We read in olden
times of many of the most eminent servants of God being dressed in the
poorest manner. When good Bishop Hooper was led out to be burnt, he had
been long in prison and his clothes were so gone from him that he
borrowed an old scholar's gown, full of rags and holes, that he might
put it on and went limping with pains of sciatica and rheumatism to the
stake.
We read of Jerome of Prague, that he lay in a damp, cold dungeon and
was refused anything to cover him in his nakedness and cold. Some
ministers are very careful lest they should not always be dressed in a
canonical or gentlemanly manner. I like that remark of Whitfield's,
when someone of a bad character wondered how he could preach without a
cassock. "Ah," he said, "I can preach without a cassock, but I cannot
preach without a character." What matters the outward garment, so long
as the character is right?
This is a lesson to our private members, too. We sometimes hear them
say, "I could not come out on the Sunday–I had not fit clothes to come
in." Any clothes are fit to come to the House of God with, if they are
paid for, no matter how coarse they may be. If they are the best God
has given you, do not murmur. Inasmuch as the trial of raiment is a
very sharp one to some of the poorest of God's people, I think this
text was put into the Bible for their comfort. Your Master wore no soft
and dainty raiment. His garment was the simple peasant's
smock-frock–woven from the top throughout without seam–and yet He
never blushed to wear it in the presence of kings and priests.
I shall always believe that the Christian ought to cultivate a noble
indifference to these outward things. But when it comes to the pinch of
absolute want of clothing, then he may comfort himself in this thought,
"Now am I companion with the Master. Now do I walk in the same
temptation as the Apostles. Now I suffer even as they also suffered."
Every saint is an image of Christ. But a poor saint is His exact image,
for Christ was poor. So, if you are brought to such a pinch with regard
to poverty that you scarcely know how to provide things decent by way
of raiment, do not be dispirited. But say, "My Master suffered the
same, and so did the Apostle Paul." And so take heart and be of good
cheer.
5. Paul's cloak at Troas shows me how mighty the Apostle was to resist
temptation. "I do not see that," you say. The Apostle had the gift of
miracles. Our Savior, though able to work miracles, never worked
anything like a miracle on His own account. Nor did His Apostles.
Miraculous gifts were entrusted to them with Gospel ends and
purposes–for the good of others and for the promotion of the Truth of
God. But never for themselves. Our Savior was tempted of the devil, you
will remember, when He was hungry, to turn stones into bread. That was
a strong temptation–to apply miraculous powers which were intended for
other ends–to His own comfort.
But He rebuked Satan and said, "Man shall not live by bread alone."
Paul also had power to have created a cloak if he had liked. Why could
he not? His very shadow healed the sick! If he had willed it, he could
have prevented the cold and damp from having any effect upon himself.
He who had once raised to life dead Eutychus, when he had fallen from a
loft, and brought back the vital heat, could certainly have kept the
heat in his own body if he had chosen. And I am bold to say the devil
often came to him and said, "If you are an Apostle of God, if you can
work miracles, command this atmosphere to rise in temperature, or these
rags to be joined together and form you a comfortable raiment."
You do not know–you cannot tell, for you were never put to it–what
were the stern struggles the Apostle must have had in resisting the
foul temptation to use his miraculous gifts for himself. O Brothers and
Sisters, I am afraid you and I are much more ready to give way to self
than was the Apostle. We preach the Gospel and if God helps us, oh,
directly the devil will have us to take some of the praise. "You
preached a good sermon this morning," said one to John Bunyan, as he
came down the stairs. "You are too late," said Honest John, "the devil
told me that when I was preaching." Yes, God works the miracles, but we
take the honor to ourselves.
There is the temptation for any man who has gifts to use them to his
own purposes. And if he does, he is an unfaithful steward to his
Master. I do beseech you, whether in the Sunday school or the Church,
never let the miracle-working power which God has given you be used for
yourselves. You can do for Christ's sake mighty things through faith
and prayer, but never let prayer and faith be prostituted to so base a
purpose as to minister unto the flesh. I know carnal minds will not
comprehend this, but spiritual minds, who know the temptations of the
devil, will know how stern must be a life-long battle to keep ourselves
back from doing that which might apparently make us happy, but which
would at the same time make us unholy.
6. The sixth lesson from this cloak is we are taught in this passage
how precisely similar one child of God is to another. I know we look
upon Abraham and Isaac and Jacob as being very great and blessed
beings–we think that they lived in a higher region than we do. We
cannot think that if they had lived in these times, they would have
been Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. We suppose that these are very bad days
and that any great height of Divine Grace, or self-denial is not very
easily attainable.
Brethren, my own conviction is that if Abraham, Isaac and Jacob had
lived now–instead of being less, they would have been greater
saints–for they only lived in the dawn, and we live in the noon. We
hear the Apostles often called "Saint" Peter and "Saint" Paul. And thus
they are set up on high as on an elevated niche. If we had seen Peter
and Paul we should have thought them a very ordinary sort of
people–wonderfully like ourselves. And if we had gone into their daily
life and trials, we should have said, "Well, you are wonderfully
superior to what I am in Grace, but somehow or other, you are men of
like passions with me. I have a quick temper, so have you, Peter.
"I have a thorn in the flesh, so have you, Paul. I have a sick house,
Peter's wife's mother lies sick of a fever. I complain of the
rheumatism, and the Apostle Paul, when aged, feels the cold and wants
his cloak." Ah, we must not consider the Bible as a Book intended for
transcendental super-elevated souls–it is an everyday Book and these
good people were everyday people. They had more Divine Grace, but we
can get more Grace as well as they could–the Fountain at which they
drew is quite as full and as free to us as to them. We have only to
believe after their fashion and trust to Jesus after their way–and
although our trials are not the same as theirs, we shall overcome
through the blood of the Lamb.
I like to see religion brought out in everyday life. Do not tell me
about the godliness of the Tabernacle. Tell me about the godliness of
your shop, your counter, and your kitchen. Let me see how Divine Grace
enables you to be patient in the cold, or joyful in hunger, or
industrious in labor. Though Grace is no common thing, yet it shines
best in common things. To preach a sermon, or to sing a hymn is but a
paltry thing compared with the power to suffer cold and hunger and
nakedness for Christ's sake.
Courage then, courage then, fellow Pilgrim! The road was not smoothed
for Paul any more than it is for us. There was no royal road to Heaven
in those days any more than there is now. They had to go through
sloughs and bogs and mire–just as we do–
"They wrestled hard as we do now With sins and doubts and fears," but
they have gained the victory at last, and even so shall we! So much
then, for the cloak which was left at Troas with Carpus.
II. We will LOOK AT HIS BOOKS. We do not know what the books were, and
we can only form some guess as to what the parchments were. Paul had a
few books which were left, perhaps wrapped up in the cloak, and Timothy
was to be careful to bring them. Even an Apostle must read. Some of our
very ultra-Calvinistic Brothers and Sisters think that a minister who
reads books and studies his sermon must be a very deplorable specimen
of a preacher. A man who comes up into the pulpit, professes to take
his text on the spot and talks any quantity of nonsense is the idol of
many.
If he will speak without premeditation, or pretend to do so, and never
produce what they call a dish of dead men's brains–oh, that is the
preacher! How rebuked are they by the Apostle! He is Inspired and yet
he wants books! He has been preaching at least for thirty years, and
yet he wants books! He had seen the Lord, and yet he wants books! He
had had a wider experience than most men, and yet he wants books! He
had been caught up into the third Heaven and had heard things which it
was unlawful for a men to utter, yet he wants books! He had written the
major part of the New Testament, and yet he wants books!
The Apostle says to Timothy, and so he says to every preacher, "Give
yourself unto reading." The man who never reads will never be read. He
who never quotes will never be quoted. He who will not use the thoughts
of other men's brains proves that he has no brains of his own. Brothers
and Sisters, what is true of ministers is true of all our people. You
need to read. Renounce as much as you will all light literature, but
study as much as possible sound theological works, especially the
Puritan writers and expositions of the Bible. We are quite persuaded
that the very best way for you to be spending your leisure is to be
either reading or praying. You may get much instruction from books
which afterward you may use as a true weapon in your Lord and Master's
service. Paul cries, "Bring the books"–join in the cry.
Our second remark is that the Apostle is not ashamed to confess that he
does read. He is writing to his young son, Timothy. Now some old
preachers never like to say a thing which will let the young ones into
their secrets. They suppose they must put on a very dignified air and
make a mystery of their sermonizing. But all this is alien from the
spirit of truthfulness. Paul wants books and is not ashamed to tell
Timothy that he does. And Timothy may go and tell Tychicus and Titus if
he likes–Paul does not care.
Paul herein is a picture of industry. He is in prison. He cannot
preach–what will he do? As he cannot preach, he will read. As we read
of the fishermen of old and their boats, the fishermen were out of
them. What were they doing? Mending their nets. So if Providence has
laid you upon a sick bed and you cannot teach your class–if you cannot
be working for God in public, mend your nets by reading. If one
occupation is taken from you, take another and let the books of the
Apostle read you a lesson of industry.
He says, "Especially the parchments." I think the books were Latin and
Greek works but the parchments were Oriental. And possibly they were
the parchments of Holy Scripture. Or, as likely, they were his own
parchments, on which were written the originals of his letters which
stand in our Bible as the Epistles to the Ephesians, the Philippians,
the Colossians, and so on. Now, it must be, "Especially the parchments"
with all our reading. Let it be especially the Bible. Do you attach no
weight to this advice? This advice is more needed in England now than
almost at any other time, for the number of persons who read the Bible,
I believe, is becoming smaller every day.
Persons read the views of their denominations as set forth in the
periodicals. They read the views of their leader as set forth in his
sermons or his works. But the Book, the good old Book, the Divine
Fountainhead from which all Revelation wells up–this is too often
left. You may go to human puddles until you forsake the clear crystal
stream which flows from the Throne of God. Read the books, by all
means, but especially the parchments. Search human literature, if you
will, but especially stand fast by that Book which is Infallible, the
Revelation of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
III. We now want to have AN INTERVIEW WITH THE APOSTLE PAUL HIMSELF,
for we may learn much from him. It is almost too dark to see him–we
will find him in that frightful den! The horrid dungeon–the filth lies
upon the floor till it looks like a road which is seldom scraped–the
draft blows through the only little slit which they call a window. The
poor old man, without his cloak, wraps his ragged garment about him.
Sometimes you see him kneeling down to pray and then he dips his pen
into the ink and writes to his dear son, Timothy. No companion, except
Luke, who occasionally comes in for a short time. Now, how shall we
find the old man? What sort of temper will he be in?
We find him full of confidence in the religion which has cost him so
much. For in the first chapter, at the twelfth verse, we hear him say,
"For this reason I also suffer these things: nevertheless I am not
ashamed: for I know Whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is
able to keep that which I have committed unto Him against that day." No
doubt, often the tempter said to him, "Paul, why you have lost
everything for your religion! It has brought you to beggary. See, you
have preached it and what is the reward of it? The very men you have
converted have forsaken you. Give it up, give it up, it cannot be worth
all this. Why, they will not even bring you a cloak to wrap round you.
You are left here to shiver and very soon your head will be struck from
your body. Take off your hand from the standard and retire."
"No," says the Apostle, "I know Whom I have believed." Why, I have
heard of professors who say, "Ever since I have been a Christian I have
lost in my business and therefore I will give it up." But our beloved
Apostle clings to it with a life grip. And oh, there is no heart in our
piety if our afflictions make us doubt the Truth of our religion. For
these trials, inasmuch as they work patience, and patience experience,
and experience hope, render us such that we are not ashamed, but we do
the more firmly hold on to Christ. Just think, you hear the Apostle
say, "I know Whom I believe." It is very easy for us to say it. We are
very comfortable, sitting in our pews. We shall go home to our
plentiful meal. We shall be clothed comfortably.
We have friends about us who will smile at us and it is not hard to
say, "I know Whom I have believed." But if you were vexed on the one
hand by Hermogenes and Philetus, and on the other hand by Alexander the
coppersmith, and De-mas, you would not find it quite so easy to say,
"The Lord is faithful." Behold this noble champion who is just as much
unmoved at the worst as he was at the best times. "I know how to be
full," said he once. And now he can say, "I know how to suffer
hunger–I know how to abound and how to suffer loss."
But he is not only confident. You will notice that this grand old man
is having communion with Jesus Christ in his sufferings. Turn to the
second chapter, at the tenth verse. Did ever sweeter language than this
come from anyone? "Therefore I endure all things for the elect's sakes,
that they may also obtain the salvation which is in Christ Jesus with
eternal glory. It is a faithful saving: For if we are dead with Him, we
shall also live with Him: If we suffer, we shall also reign with Him.
If we deny Him, He also will deny us: if we believe not, yet He abides
faithful: He cannot deny Himself." Ah, there are two in the
dungeon–not only the man who is suffering trouble as an evildoer, even
unto bonds–but there sits with him One like unto the Son of Man,
sharing all his griefs and bearing all his despondencies and so lifting
up his head. Well may the Apostle rejoice that he has fellowship with
Christ in his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death.
Nor is this all. Not only is he confident for the past and in sweet
communion for the present, but he is resigned for the future. Look at
the fourth chapter and the sixth verse. "I am now ready to be offered,
and the time of my departure is at hand." It is a beautiful emblem
taken from the sacrificial bullock. There it is, tied to the horns of
the altar, and ready to be offered. So the Apostle stands as a
sacrifice ready to be offered upon the altar. I am afraid that we
cannot all say we are ready to be offered. Paul was ready to be a burnt
offering. If God willed it, he would be burnt to ashes at the stake. Or
he would be a drink offering, as he did become, when a stream of blood
flowed under the sharp sword.
He was ready to be a peace offering, if God willed it, to die in his
bed. In any case, he was a freewill offering unto God, for he offered
himself voluntarily. As he says, "I am now ready to be offered and the
time of my departure is at hand." Glorious old man! Many a professed
Christian has been clothed in scarlet, and fared sumptuously every day
and yet never could say he was ready to be offered. Rather he looked
upon the time of his departure with grief and sorrow. As you think,
then, of poor, shivering, ragged Paul, think of the jewel which he
carried in his breast. And O you sons of poverty, remember that the
magnificence of a holy life and the grandeur and nobility of a
consecrated heart can deliver you altogether from any shame which may
cling to your rags and poverty! For as the sun at setting paints the
clouds with all the colors of Heaven, so your very rags, poverty, and
shame may make your life the more illustrious as the splendor of your
piety lights them with heavenly radiance!
We have not quite concluded with the Apostle. We find him not only
resigned, but triumphant. "I have fought a good fight, I have finished
my course, I have kept the faith." See the Grecian warrior just
returned from battle? He has many wounds and there is a gash across his
brow. His breast is streaming here and there with cuts and flesh
wounds. One arm is dislocated. He halts, like Jacob, on his thigh. He
is covered with the smoke and dust of battle. He is besmeared with much
blood. He is faint, and weary, and ready to die, but what does he say?
As he lifts up his right arm, with his buckler tightly clasped upon it,
he cries, "I have fought a good fight, I have kept my shield." That was
the object of ambition with every Grecian warrior. If he kept his
shield he came home glorious.
Now, faith is the Christian's shield. And here I see the Apostle,
though he wears all the marks of the conflict, yet he triumphs in these
marks of the Lord Jesus, saying, "I have fought a good fight. My very
scars and wounds prove it. I have kept the faith." He looks to that
golden buckler of the faith fastened to his arm and rejoices in it. The
tyrant Nero, nor all the warriors of Rome never had such triumph as the
Apostle Paul! None of them had such true glory as this solitary man who
has trod the winepress alone. And of the people–there were none with
him–who has stood against the lion, a solitary champion, with no eye
to pity and no arm to save, still triumphant to the end? Brave spirit!
Never mind the old cloak at Troas, so long as your faith is safe.
Once more. He not only triumphs in the present, but he is in
expectation of a crown. When the Grecian wrestler had fought a good
fight, a crown was presented to him. And so Paul, who writes about the
old cloak, also writes– "Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of
righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at
that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love His
appearing."
When I was picturing Paul, and talking of the poverty of many
Believers–"Ah," said the Sinner, "Who would be a Christian? Who would
suffer so much for Christ? Who would lose everything as Paul did?"
Worldly minds here are thinking–"What a fool, to be led away by such
an excitement!" Ah, but see how the tables have turned! "Henceforth
there is laid up for me a crown!" What if he had been robed in scarlet,
had rolled in wealth, and been great? And what if there had been no
crown for him in Heaven? No joy hereafter–but a fearful looking for of
judgment? See, he springs from his dungeon to his throne! Nero may cut
off his head, but that head shall wear a starry crown. Courage, then,
you that are downtrodden, afflicted, and despairing! Be of good cheer,
for the end will make up for the way. And all the roughness of the
pilgrimage will be well recompensed by the Glory which shall await all
those who are resting upon Christ Jesus.
We close, having done with this old cloak, when we say, is it not
beautiful as you read this Epistle, and, indeed, all the Apostle's
letters, to see how everything which the Apostle thought of was
connected with Christ? How he had concentrated every passion, every
power, every thought, every act, every word–and set the whole upon
Christ. I believe that there are many who love Christ after a sort,
just as the sun shines today. But you know if you concentrate the rays
of that sun with a magnifying glass and fix all the rays upon any
object, then what heat there is, what burning, what flame, what fire!
So many men scatter their love and admiration on almost any and every
creature, and Christ gets a little, as we all get some rays of the sun.
But that is the man, who, like the Apostle Paul, brings all his
thoughts and words to a focus. Then he burns his way through life. His
heart is on fire. Like coals of juniper are his words. He is a man of
force and energy. He may have no cloak, yet for all that, he is a great
man and the Czar in his imperial mantle is but a driveling dwarf by the
side of this giant in the army of God. O, I wish we could set our
thoughts on Christ this morning. Are we trusting in Him this morning?
Is He all our salvation and all our desire? If He is, then let us live
to Him.
Those who are wholly Christ's are not many. O that we were espoused as
chaste virgins unto Christ–that we might have no other lover and know
no other object of delight! Blind are these eyes to all but Christ. And
deaf these ears to any music but the voice of Christ. And lame these
feet to any way but that of obedience to Him! Palsied these hands to
anything but work for Him. And dead this heart to every joy if Jesus
cannot move! Even as a straw floats upon the river and is carried to
the ocean, so would I be bereft of all power, and will to do anything
but that which my Lord would have me do–and be carried along by the
stream of His Grace right onward, ready to be offered up, or ready to
live, ready to suffer, or ready to reign just as He wills–only that He
may be served in my living and dying!
It will little matter what cloak you wear, or if you have not any at
all, if you have but such a concentration of all your bodily and mental
powers and spiritual energies upon Christ Jesus and upon Him alone. May
those of you who have never trusted Jesus be ready to rely upon Him
now. He did not forsake Paul, even in extremity, and He will not
forsake you–
"Trust Him, He will never deceive you, Though you hardly of Him deem.
He will never, never leave you, Nor will let you quite leave Him."
Therefore trust Him now and forever, for Jesus' sake. Amen.