I know.

It’s only four verses. Four verses which are not very long.

I know.

It’s just these verses are unique and stand alone. The section before it was very much exhortation to Timothy, and the lines right after, and maybe even beginning with 9, are a kind of rundown on people and needs. But here, in these brief lines we see Paul the old man saying he is finished. It is up to Timothy now. That is why he has been so hard on the young man, because he needs him to keep going because Paul’s time is over.

So please understand why I am only giving you four brief verses in my translation.

II Timothy 4:6-9

6. For I am already poured out — empty. The time for my departure has come.

7. I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race. I have kept the faith.

8. All I have left is the reserved crown of righteousness which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give to me on the day. Not only to me, but also all those who have loved his appearing.

9. Try hard to come to me quickly.

These verses sound so much to me like parts of Philippians. You can almost hear him mumble to himself, ‘to live is Christ and to die is gain.’ The language evokes a drink offering before the Lord himself. Paul is the offering, but not to be confused or mixed up with a salvific offering which only Jesus can make, but a freewill offering of praise and devotion. Like David pouring out the water out of respect. Like oil poured out on altar stones.

Yet, the evocative image in me conjures the Psalms and the imagery of ‘my cup overflows.’ Paul’s cup no longer overflows, not because he is no longer blessed, but because he has poured it all out. There is nothing left in reserve.

A key motto of ministry for me is, ‘you must minister out of the overflow,’ which is to say as servants of God our ministry is literally what brims over from the nourishing of our own spiritual lives. We must study, read, pray, and serve apart from lesson preparation, church life, and ministry events. Burn out is real, and one of the biggest culprits is spiritual neglect. We let our our cup dry up, which is different than pouring it all out on purpose through a life invested in the kingdom of God. Please don’t confuse the two. Paul had kept his cup full, and that fullness gave him so much to pour out on purpose as an oblation.

Now I am thinking of the earlier metaphor Paul used of bowls – we are bowls in God’s house. His bowl is empty. Let the reader understand.

He then uses two athletic images, again conjuring his earlier metaphors of a soldier and athlete. He says he has fought the good fight. Although Paul certainly had his squabbles, (I’m looking at you, Barnabas!) I believe here he is speaking of the struggle in which we do not wrestle with flesh and blood but with powers unseen. He had engaged the enemy and did all he could. He did not retreat or surrender.

He also finished the race. This is the same verb Jesus used on the cross when he said, ‘It is finished.’ So, too, is Paul. Finished. Complete. Fulfilled. Lived.

If you are unable to crawl into the emotion behind these two verses, then I am uncertain I can help you. To think of a person who knows their life is over and hear her or him say, ‘I gave it all I had. I held nothing back. I used it all up. I did my best and fought hard for what mattered most. I lived my life completely and have finished everything that I was supposed to do. Nothing is left undone, and I never turned my back on the Lord Jesus Christ,’ and not grow a little teary-eyed is to not be able to feel this powerful testimony. These words are exactly how I want to reflect in my last moments. I pray God grants me enough time to be cognitive of the end that I may offer one more prayer and tell him, ‘Thank you!’

Maybe I have sat beside too many bedsides as people die who weren’t able to say these kinds of things. Instead they had regrets. Unresolved issues. Fear. It amazes me the way people are so afraid they pass up the best parts of living. Remember how Paul encouraged Timothy early, almost scolded him, in Chapter 1:7, ‘God didn’t give you a cowardly spirit’. How we die says more about our faith than just about anything else we could do.

There is a clunkiness to verse 8 that makes it almost untranslatable in English and still be faithful to the grammar. If I were to go full-on interpretative mode, then it would have to translate as, ‘The Lord is righteousness judge of the competition. He has set aside a victory crown of righteousness for me. He will give me the crown on the day I die. Now, this crown of righteousness on the day of death is not just for me, it is also for everyone who loved that Jesus has come into the world and is coming again.’

See, clunky, but persuasive all at the same time. The crown of course goes back to the athlete competing and being given this trophy. I will let you wrestle with whether or not we get a literal crown in the afternow (do you like that little pun I left there for you?) but I will tell you I come down as thinking no. No real crowns. This is all metaphor for victory. What we have in the afternow is victory in Jesus. More than conquerors.

And for what it is worth, I don’t think this is a participation trophy.

The last sentence I included, 9, could have been with the next, last section but I decided to include here because it might be, just might be, Paul is telling Timothy to come quickly because he thinks he will die soon, and he would like to see him one more time. Hurry, he says. I may not make it. If you’ve ever caught a midnight plane to try and make it before someone on death’s door dies, praying you get there so to see him one more time, to talk to him, and to squeeze his hand while blood still pulsed in those weak veins, then you maybe you can see why I included this here.

Hurry up, Timothy. I’ve been hard on you in this letter and I am leaving you a load of work to do. But come quickly, for my time is running out.