Who You Gonna Call?

“To Timothy, my beloved child: Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord” (2Tim 1:2).

Who you gonna call? Who’s your 9-1-1? Who’s that person you have on speed dial when your world crumbles? Who’s your go-guy or gal? When the fecal matter hits the whirling device, we all have somebody we call. For Paul, it’s Timothy. How do we know that? Well, that’s exactly the person the apostle reaches out to when he ends up on Rome’s Death Row. He scribbles Tim’s name on the envelope of the last letter he’ll ever write. (Okay, I realize it’s a scroll of parchment, not an envelope. Work with me here.) 

The book of the Bible we call 2nd Timothy is actually a note from the Apostle Paul to Pastor Tim. Knowing he’s just hit life’s two-minute warning, the man from Tarsus writes, “To Timothy, my beloved child: Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord” (v2). In the face of certain death, he reminds Tim just how much he means to him. He wishes God’s best for him. And he points to the Savior they both serve. 

With his life on the line, Paul opens his heart about the two most important relationships in his life. One horizontal. One vertical. One human. One divine. He reaches out and reaches up. Is there important theology here in this one little verse? No question. And we’ll certainly drill down on some of that. But don’t miss just how incredibly personal the apostle is as he writes.  

Paul starts with the horizontal relationship he has with Timothy. When we last left Tim, he was pastoring the church in Ephesus, a large seaport and cultural crossroads on the western coast of what we know today as Turkey. Paul left him in charge of the cleanup caused by a team of false teachers who distracted Ephesian believers from following Jesus (1Tim 1:1-7). I told you the Timster was on the shortlist of the apostle’s go-to guys.

Timothy grew up a couple of hundred miles west of Ephesus in the town of Lystra. He’s the product of a biracial mixed faith marriage. His mom was a Jew and his dad Greek (Acts 16:1). More proof that there’s no racial or religious prerequisites in following Jesus. Like a good Jewish mother, Eunice taught him the Old Testament growing up (2Tim 1:5; 3:15). It’s no surprise they gave him a name that literally means “one who honors God.”

There’s probably a good chance Jesus used the apostle to bring Timothy to faith on one of his first trips to Lystra (Acts 14:6-23). Paul brought Tim onto his team later at a third tour stop in Lystra (Acts 16:1-2). Tim’s half-Hebrew heritage caused quite a scene. At the time, there was a HUGE controversy about what it meant to be a Jewish follower of Jesus. That’s why Paul “took him and circumcised him because of the Jews who were in those places, for they all knew that his father was Greek” (Acts 16:3). Don’t just blow past that. Tim agreed to be circumcised…as an adult! Talk about a willingness to sacrifice so that others would hear about Jesus!! Kinda makes sharing the Gospel with your neighbor look wimpy, doesn’t it? 

Paul calls Tim “my beloved child” (v1). The original language is absolutely drips with sentiment and emotion. The apostle is secure enough in his manhood to tell Tim he loves him. I gotta admit, this is still a struggle for me at times with other men. If you love someone, tell them. It doesn’t mean you don’t back it up with sacrificial demonstrations of your feelings. But say it. To your spouse. To your kids. To your parents. To your friends. Say it out loud. And say it often. I. Love. You.

Tim has a special place in Paul’s heart as his “child” (v1). Not his blood kin. But his spiritual son. The apostle drops the Greek term teknon, which can mean an immediate offspring or descendant. It comes from from a root word describing a person so precious that you would do anything to protect them. Teknon carries the idea of deep affection. It’s indeed a term of endearment and affection.

You’ll quickly see from other uses in the NT that this is someone with whom you share an intimate friendship. There’s that amazing story of the time a group of dudes brought their disabled friend to Jesus. The Savior took one look at him and said, “Take heart, My son (Gr. teknon), your sins are forgiven” (Mt 9:2). It’s no surprise when the Corinthian church was a hot mess, Paul knew his boy Tim was the one to go there. “I sent you Timothy, my beloved and faithful child (Gr. teknon) in the Lord, to remind you of my ways in Christ” (1Cor 4:17). It’s as if apostle is such a proud spiritual father that he tells Tim, “You’re my boy, Blue!”

Let’s take a moment to check our own horizontal hold. Who’s YOUR spiritual dad or mom? Who’s the person Jesus used to bring you to trust in Him? Who’s that person who walked with you during those awkward baby steps of faith? If possible, thank them. Do you have someone currently serving as your spiritual mentor? Hopefully so. And how about someone who looks to you to be their Paul to their Timothy? If not, take a look around. There’s no doubt some passionate follower of Jesus who would love to have you pouring into them. 

At this point, Paul begins the pivot from horizontal to vertical. He wishes Tim God’s “grace, mercy, and peace” (v2). We’re talking about the Triple Crown of God’s goodness! Grace is God’s descending, one-way love. It’s getting good we don’t deserve. In contrast, mercy is not getting the punishment we DO deserve. We’ve been rebels against God’s kingdom ever since the day Adam and Eve decided they wanted a piece of fruit instead of the goodness of God. Instead punishment, He gives us His mercy. God’s peace is a whole lot more than just a lack of war. It describes freedom from anxiety, unspoiled harmony, and the perfect rhythm of life. Like I said, the Triple Crown of God’s goodness.

The apostle is clearly looking vertically towards heaven when points out that these three gifts are “from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord” (v2). We need to remember God isn’t some angry distant diety hoping you’ll mess up so He can zap you. He’s a loving Dad. He cares deeply for you. He wants His best for you. Jesus’ kid brother James may have had a different earthly dad but fully realized this about our Heavenly Father. “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change” (James 1:17). God the Father is a good Father. He’s a good, good Father.

Paul keeps his eyes on the vertical and tells Tim “Christ Jesus our Lord” (v2) is also fully involved in delivering the Triple Crown of God’s goodness. By using this phrase, the apostle wants us to know Jesus is much more than a great teacher from the boondocks of Galilee. He’s much more than the hottest new rabbi or spiritual swami making headlines. He’s much more than some mysterious miracle worker able to heal any disease or disorder thrown His way. He’s the Second Person of the Trinity. He’s the Son of God. He’s God in a bod. He’s the Christ. He’s our Lord.

The apostle drops Jesus’ name a total of 13 times in this letter to Timothy. Each time he does, he ALWAYS includes the incredibly important title of Christ. (You DO know Christ isn’t Jesus’ last night, right? He’s not the Son of Joe Christ and Mary Christ of Nazareth.) Christ is the Greek word Christos, which means one who has been anointed for a special cause or purpose. 

The Christ is the NT title corresponding with the Messiah in the OT. The Hebrew Messiah is the Hero God promises to send to make everything right. He initially made that promise in the very first family meeting after the Fall (Gen 3:17). Someone’s coming to the rescue. He promised it to Abraham (Gen 12:1-3; 15:1-18; 17:18). He promised it to David (2Sam 7:9-17). A Hero was on the way! Messiah was coming! In Jesus, Christ has come!!

If you’re like me and not Jewish, what’s the big deal about the Hebrew Messiah? Here’s the good news. Or should I say Good News. Christ Jesus didn’t just come to save the Jews but save everybody THROUGH the Jews. And Tim’s the perfect example. Remember, he’s half Jew/half Gentile. In Jesus, He’s 100% saved!! Jesus is everybody’s Messiah. He’s everybody’s Hero. Yours. Mine. And anybody else who calls on His name.

Christ Jesus is also the Hero of the entire Bible. It’s ALL about Jesus. Everything from Genesis to Revelation points to Him. Smart folks in seminaries call the Big Story of Scripture the Meta-Narrative. In other words, there’s an overarching story going on all throughout the pages of God’s Word. There’s just one point. There’s just one Hero. Christ is THE Hero of THE Story. Not Moses. Not David. Not Paul. Not Tim. Jesus Himself said as much (Lk 24:26-27; Jn 5:39-47). Every story in the Bible points to Him in some way. As Messiah, Jesus is THE Hero of THE Story.

The Son of God is also “our Lord” (v2). The word in the original language (Gr. kurios) describes a master, the one in control, the person to whom things belong, and the one who decides. It literally means the Supreme One. As Lord of His followers, Jesus is our boss. Have you seen the bumper sticker that says “My Boss is a Jewish Carpenter”? He’s the Ruler. He’s the Decision Maker. When we humble ourselves before our Savior, He doesn’t just forgive our sins. He becomes our Lord. In other words, you can’t simply buy the fire insurance. We’re to do what He says. Not because Christ is some power-hungry megalomaniac. His commands are the very source of the overflowing and abundant life He came to bring us (Jn 10:1). Jesus is our Lord.

As Paul addresses this note to Timothy from Death Row, he packs these opening lines with a ton of both intimacy and hope. He reaches out horizontally to one who’s been there for him so many times before. He certainly doesn’t have to check in his man card for telling Tim how much he loves him. The apostle looks vertically to God, the ultimate source of goodness. God’s goodness isn’t cut off just because Paul’s in the slammer. With death on the doorstep, apostle calls horizontally and hopes vertically. How about you? Who you gonna call?