Commentary - 2 Timothy 4:19-21

Bird's-eye view

As the Apostle Paul brings his final inspired letter to a close, he shifts from the high doctrines of perseverance and the solemn charges to preach the Word into what some might mistakenly consider mere personalia. But in the economy of God, there are no throwaway lines. These final greetings and updates are dense with theological reality, showing us what the Christian life looks like on the ground. This is the doctrine embodied. We see the sinews of the Christian church in the first century, a network of personal relationships, mutual affection, and shared labor in the gospel. Paul, facing martyrdom, is not an isolated stoic; he is a father in the faith, deeply invested in the lives of his friends and coworkers. The passage underscores the immense value of ordinary faithfulness, the grit of ministry that includes sickness and travel changes, and the simple, profound need for fellowship, especially as the cold winter of persecution approaches.

This is the stuff of real life. Ministry is not an abstraction. It involves specific people, with specific households, who get sick, who stay in certain cities, and who need to be greeted. In these names, we see a living tapestry of the apostolic church. We have a married couple who were Paul's fellow tentmakers and gospel partners, a household that brought refreshment, and individuals who remained part of the faithful remnant in Rome. Paul's urgent request for Timothy to come before winter is a poignant reminder of his humanity. He is in a cold dungeon and desires both his cloak and the warmth of his truest son in the faith. This is not sentimentality; it is the strength of Christian koinonia in the face of a hostile world.

Outline

Context In 2 Timothy

These verses form the concluding section of Paul's farewell letter. Having charged Timothy to guard the gospel, endure hardship, correct opponents, and preach the Word in season and out of season, Paul now turns to these final personal instructions. The preceding verses have a somber tone. Paul has declared that he has fought the good fight, finished the race, and kept the faith (2 Tim 4:7). He has also noted the painful reality of abandonment by some, like Demas, who loved this present world (2 Tim 4:10). In stark contrast to the deserters, this section highlights the stalwarts. The names listed here are a roll call of the faithful. These greetings are not tacked on; they are the practical outworking of the very doctrines Paul has spent the letter defending. They are a demonstration of the communion of saints that perseveres even when some fall away and the apostle himself is about to be offered up.

Key Issues

The Mundanity of Glory

It is a great temptation for us to read the Bible with a kind of stained-glass reverence that removes it from the world of dirt, deadlines, and disease. We read of Paul's grand missionary journeys, his profound theological arguments, and his dramatic confrontations, and we imagine him floating a few inches off the ground. These final verses are a potent remedy for such nonsense. The work of the Kingdom is glorious, but it is a glory that is worked out in the midst of profound mundanity.

Paul is about to receive a martyr's crown, a reward of unimaginable glory. And what is on his mind? He wants Timothy to say hello to some old friends for him. He is providing a logistical update on two of his travel companions. He is worried about the weather. This is how the Christian life works. Grand theological truths do not negate the ordinary textures of life; they sanctify them. The charge to "preach the Word" is given to a man who will also be charged to remember to greet a husband and wife. The man who faced down Nero's tribunal is the same man who is concerned that his friend Trophimus is sick. This is the genius of the incarnation. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and so our faith is not a disembodied set of principles. It is a robust, enfleshed reality that cares about people by name, that makes plans, and that feels the cold.

Verse by Verse Commentary

19 Greet Prisca and Aquila, and the household of Onesiphorus.

Paul begins his final greetings by mentioning a true power couple of the early church, Prisca and Aquila. It is notable that Prisca (or Priscilla) is mentioned first, a detail that occurs in several places in Scripture. This is not some slip into egalitarianism. Rather, it likely indicates that she was a particularly formidable presence or perhaps the more prominent of the two in some aspect of their ministry. These two were tentmakers, like Paul, and they were his partners in more than just business. They were partners in the gospel. They hosted a church in their home and famously took Apollos aside to explain the way of God to him more accurately (Acts 18:26). They were stalwart, dependable, and courageous, having "risked their necks" for Paul's life (Rom 16:4). To greet them is to acknowledge a deep gospel debt.

Next, he greets the household of Onesiphorus. He has already mentioned this man in the first chapter as a great encouragement, one who "often refreshed" Paul and was not ashamed of his chains (2 Tim 1:16). It appears Onesiphorus may have already died by this point, as Paul speaks of him in the past tense and prays for the Lord to grant him mercy "on that Day." So here, he sends his greetings to the surviving family. This is a beautiful picture of covenantal succession. The faithfulness of the father has created a household that is known and loved by the apostle. The blessing extends to the whole family. They are known as "the household of Onesiphorus," a name that had become synonymous with loyalty and refreshment.

20 Erastus remained at Corinth, but Trophimus I left sick at Miletus.

Here we have two logistical updates, and they are packed with implications. Erastus remained at Corinth. This is likely the same Erastus who was the city treasurer of Corinth (Rom 16:23), a man of some standing. His decision to remain in Corinth was not an act of desertion, like that of Demas. It was a matter of providence and calling. Not everyone in Paul's circle was a traveling itinerant. The church needed men like Erastus, stable figures rooted in their communities, to provide leadership and ballast. Paul is simply letting Timothy know where a key piece on the chessboard is located.

The second note is more poignant. Trophimus I left sick at Miletus. Here is the great apostle, a man through whom God had worked extraordinary miracles, healing all sorts of diseases. And yet, he was unable to heal his dear friend and coworker Trophimus. He had to leave him behind to recover. This is a crucial reality check for anyone with an over-realized eschatology. The apostolic age was filled with miracles, but it was not an age of constant, on-demand wonders. Sickness and suffering remained a part of the Christian life, even for the apostle's closest companions. Paul did not lack faith, and Trophimus was not in sin. It was simply the will of God in His inscrutable providence. This is a great comfort. Sometimes the most spiritual thing to do when you are sick is to simply be sick and trust God in it.

21 Be diligent to come before winter. Eubulus greets you, also Pudens and Linus and Claudia and all the brothers.

Paul's request is sharp and urgent: Be diligent to come before winter. The diligence is required because travel in the Mediterranean became treacherous and often impossible during the winter months. But there is also a personal plea here. Paul is in a cold Roman prison (the "cloak" he requests in v. 13 is not for fashion), and he is facing death. He wants to see his beloved son in the faith one last time. He desires the warmth of fellowship before the cold of winter and the sword of the executioner descend. This is a picture of our legitimate need for one another.

Then come the final greetings from Rome. Eubulus greets you, also Pudens and Linus and Claudia and all the brothers. We know next to nothing about these individuals, and that is the point. They were not apostles or famous leaders. They were the ordinary, faithful Christians who made up the church in Rome. They were the remnant who had not been scared off by Nero's persecution and who continued to associate with Paul. Church tradition holds that this Linus became the second bishop of Rome, but here he is just one of the brothers. They are part of the great cloud of witnesses. Their names are recorded in the eternal Word of God as a testimony to their simple faithfulness. They were "the brothers," and in that humble designation, there is a world of honor.

Application

This passage is a powerful exhortation to value the ordinary. Our culture, and too often our church culture, is obsessed with the spectacular. We want the big conference, the celebrity pastor, the viral testimony. But God builds His kingdom through countless acts of mundane faithfulness. He builds it through couples like Prisca and Aquila, who open their homes and their lives to others. He builds it through households like that of Onesiphorus, who practice the ministry of refreshment. He builds it through men like Erastus, who faithfully serve in one place for a long time. And he builds it through the Eubuluses and Claudias, the regular saints whose names are largely unknown to history but are precious to God.

We are called to this same kind of faithfulness. Are you a Prisca or an Aquila, a reliable partner in the gospel? Are you an Onesiphorus, bringing refreshment to weary saints and pastors? Are you an Erastus, content to labor faithfully where God has planted you? Are you a Trophimus, learning to trust God through seasons of weakness and sickness? Are you a Linus or a Pudens, one of "the brothers" who shows up, stands firm, and loves the saints?

And we must never forget the urgency of fellowship. "Come before winter." The world is a cold place, and it is growing colder. We need each other. Do not neglect the simple means of grace that God provides in the communion of saints. The warmth of Christian fellowship is a gift from God to help us endure the hard seasons. Be diligent in seeking it, and be diligent in offering it. This is not an optional add-on to the Christian life; it is the very fabric of it.