The Fabric of Faithfulness: Final Greetings Text: 2 Timothy 4:19-21
Introduction: The Reality of Koinonia
We live in an age that loves the idea of community but despises the reality of it. Our culture speaks endlessly of connection, but it is a connection measured in clicks, likes, and fleeting digital interactions. It is a ghost community, a disembodied fellowship that makes no demands, requires no sacrifice, and offers no tangible comfort. It is a mile wide and an inch deep. And sadly, the modern evangelical church has too often followed suit, trading robust, thick, covenantal life for a slick Sunday morning production followed by a quick exit from the parking lot.
Into this world of shadows, the closing lines of Paul's final letter land with the weight of solid oak. We have just come through some of the most soaring theological truths and urgent pastoral commands in all of Scripture. Paul has charged Timothy to preach the Word in season and out of season; he has declared that he has fought the good fight, finished the race, and kept the faith. And how does he conclude this magnificent testament? With a list of names. With travel updates. With a mention of a sick friend and an urgent request to come before winter.
Some might be tempted to skim over this, to treat it as the ancient equivalent of a postscript, a series of personal shout-outs with little relevance to the modern reader. But that would be a grave mistake. This is not an appendix to the gospel; this is the gospel made visible. This is what the body of Christ actually looks like on the ground. It is not an abstract philosophy. It is a web of real relationships with real people in real places. These names are the threads that make up the fabric of faithfulness. Christianity is not a solo endeavor; it is a corporate project. It is Prisca and Aquila, Erastus and Trophimus, Pudens and Claudia, all bound together in loyalty to a risen King, living out their faith in the nitty-gritty realities of life, sickness, and changing seasons.
These final greetings are a profound theological statement. They teach us that our faith is not lived out in a monastery of the mind but in the messy, glorious, and sometimes mundane interactions with the saints. This is the koinonia, the fellowship, that the gospel creates. It is a fellowship of shared risk, mutual affection, and practical concern. It is a rebuke to our individualistic age and a reminder that when God saves people, He saves a people.
The Text
Greet Prisca and Aquila, and the household of Onesiphorus.
Erastus remained at Corinth, but Trophimus I left sick at Miletus.
Be diligent to come before winter. Eubulus greets you, also Pudens and Linus and Claudia and all the brothers.
(2 Timothy 4:19-21 LSB)
The Stalwart Companions (v. 19)
Paul begins with greetings to some of his most trusted and battle-tested friends.
"Greet Prisca and Aquila, and the household of Onesiphorus." (2 Timothy 4:19)
First, he names Prisca and Aquila. This is a power couple of the early church. We meet them first in Acts 18. They were tentmakers, like Paul. They were Jewish believers who had been expelled from Rome by the edict of Claudius. God, in His providence, used the persecution of a pagan emperor to position these two saints to meet, house, and work alongside the apostle Paul in Corinth. They were not seminary-trained theologians; they were tradespeople who integrated their faith with their work.
But they were more than just hospitable. They were the kind of laypeople who knew their doctrine. When they heard the eloquent Apollos preaching powerfully but incompletely, they didn't gossip about his deficiencies. They took him aside and "explained to him the way of God more accurately" (Acts 18:26). Later, in Romans 16, Paul says that they "risked their own necks" for his life. This is not a metaphor. These were saints who understood that following Christ meant putting everything on the line. Paul's affection for them is palpable. They are a model of a godly marriage, a ministry team that served together in their trade, their home, and their defense of the gospel.
Then Paul mentions "the household of Onesiphorus." We learned about this man earlier in the letter. While others were ashamed of Paul's chains, Onesiphorus "often refreshed" him and was not ashamed (2 Tim. 1:16). He actively sought Paul out in Rome, a dangerous thing to do. Paul's prayer for him is that the Lord would grant him mercy on "that Day." The fact that Paul here greets his "household" suggests to many that Onesiphorus himself may have already died, perhaps as a result of his boldness. Whether dead or alive, his legacy of loyal, refreshing courage was so profound that it extended to his entire family. He was a patriarch who led his house in the fear of the Lord and in the service of the saints, no matter the cost. This is the kind of household that builds a civilization.
The Gritty Realities of Ministry (v. 20)
Verse 20 gives us two brief updates that are packed with theological implications about the sovereignty of God and the reality of life in a fallen world.
"Erastus remained at Corinth, but Trophimus I left sick at Miletus." (2 Timothy 4:20 LSB)
Erastus is likely the same man mentioned in Romans 16:23 as "the city treasurer" of Corinth. Here is a man with significant civil authority, a man of public standing, who was a committed member of the Christian mission. This is a direct refutation of the pietistic notion that faith must be a private, quiet thing. The gospel infiltrates every level of society, including the halls of government. Erastus did not abandon his post to follow Paul; he served God faithfully within his vocation. He "remained at Corinth," likely carrying on his duties as a civic leader and as a pillar in the church there. Faithfulness does not always mean going; often it means staying.
Then we have the case of Trophimus, whom Paul "left sick at Miletus." This is one of the most quietly profound verses in the New Testament. Paul, the apostle who healed countless people, who cast out demons, who even raised the dead (Acts 20:9-12), was unable to heal his dear friend and co-worker. He had to leave him behind. This demolishes the foolish and cruel theology of the health-and-wealth charlatans. It teaches us that sickness is a present reality in this age, even for the most faithful saints. God's power is not a vending machine that we operate with the currency of our faith. Sometimes, in God's inscrutable wisdom, His answer is no. Paul's apostolic power was for the authentication of the gospel, not for the universal removal of all suffering. Trophimus's sickness was not a sign of weak faith but a participation in the sufferings of a groaning creation, waiting for the final redemption of our bodies (Romans 8:23).
The Urgency of Fellowship (v. 21)
The final verse contains a personal plea and another list of names, highlighting the warmth of the Christian community in Rome.
"Be diligent to come before winter. Eubulus greets you, also Pudens and Linus and Claudia and all the brothers." (2 Timothy 4:21 LSB)
Paul's request, "Be diligent to come before winter," is both practical and poignant. Travel in the ancient world was difficult and dangerous, and shipping on the Mediterranean largely ceased during the winter months. If Timothy did not come soon, he would not be able to come at all until spring. But more than that, Paul is in a cold dungeon (v. 13), and he knows his execution is near. This is the cry of a lonely warrior who longs to see his beloved son in the faith one last time. He desires the warmth of fellowship to steel him for the final trial. Even the greatest of the apostles needed the presence and encouragement of his friends.
And he was not entirely without them. He passes on greetings from four individuals: Eubulus, Pudens, Linus, and Claudia, and then adds a general greeting from "all the brothers." We know nothing about Eubulus or Pudens or Claudia from elsewhere in Scripture. Early church tradition holds that this Linus became the second bishop of Rome after Peter. But their obscurity is the point. These were ordinary, faithful Christians. They were not apostles or famous teachers. They were the rank-and-file saints who made up the church in Rome. They were the ones who had not been ashamed of Paul's chains. They were the ones providing the support, the prayers, and the fellowship that sustained the apostle in his final days. The kingdom of God is not built by a few superstars, but by the steady, often unseen, faithfulness of millions of ordinary saints like these.
Conclusion: The Unbroken Chain
So what do we take from this list of names and travel logs? We learn that the Christian faith is profoundly personal and relational. The church is not an institution; it is a family. It is a network of men and women bound together by a common allegiance to Jesus Christ, expressed in tangible acts of hospitality, service, encouragement, and shared suffering.
We see here the whole ecosystem of the church. We have married couples in ministry like Prisca and Aquila. We have courageous patriarchs like Onesiphorus. We have believers in high civic office like Erastus. We have suffering saints like Trophimus. And we have the ordinary, faithful brothers and sisters like Eubulus, Pudens, Linus, and Claudia, who are the backbone of any healthy church.
Paul is at the end of his life, but he is not alone. He is part of an unbroken chain of faithfulness that stretches back to Abraham and forward to us. He is passing the baton to Timothy, but he is also surrounded by a cloud of witnesses. These names are not just historical footnotes. They are an invitation and a charge. They invite us to reject the shallow, disembodied "community" of our age and to invest ourselves in the real, tangible, demanding, and glorious fellowship of the local church.
They charge us to be the kind of people whose names are worthy of being on such a list. To be a Prisca, who risks her neck for the gospel. To be an Onesiphorus, who refreshes the saints. To be an Erastus, who is faithful in his vocation. To be a Linus, who quietly serves in the trenches. Because at the end of our race, the crown of righteousness is not awarded to isolated individuals. It is awarded to those who have run together, who have borne one another's burdens, and who have loved one another in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. That is the fabric of faithfulness.