Due to potentially damaging weather this afternoon and evening, the children’s musical and pre-show events in the Leawood Sanctuary have been cancelled and will be rescheduled.
Scheduled programming has resumed for Thursday, February 13 at all Resurrection locations.
I hope in the Lord Jesus to send Timothy to you soon, that I also may be cheered when I receive news about you. I have no one like him. He is a person who genuinely cares about your well-being. All the others put their own business ahead of Jesus Christ’s business. But you know his character, how he served with me to advance the gospel, like a son with a father. So I hope to send him as soon as I know how things will go for me. But I trust in the Lord that I myself will come soon.
By the time Paul writes this, Timothy had been traveling with him for roughly a decade, ever since Paul passed through Lystra and found a young man raised in the Hebrew Scriptures by his Jewish mother, though his father was Greek. Paul was surrounded by other believers in Rome, plenty of them, people he names by name in other letters. And still, when he needed someone he could trust completely with the Philippians’ welfare, he says there’s no one else like Timothy. Timothy wasn’t the most gifted or the most impressive person Paul knew. What set him apart was that he genuinely cared about their welfare.
That distinction is easy to miss until you’ve been on the other side of it, waiting to see if someone’s concern for you is real or just polite. William Barclay describes exactly what made Timothy reliable in that way: a message entrusted to him “was as safe as if Paul had delivered it himself.”* That’s not a description of talent. It’s a description of trustworthiness, the kind built slowly, over years, by consistently caring about the right things when it would have been easier to care about yourself instead.
Paul doesn’t ask the Philippians to imitate someone dramatic here. He points them to Timothy, an ordinary and largely unremarkable man in the historical record, whose entire commendation is that he meant what he said about caring for other people. That’s a quieter kind of example than the hymn earlier in this same chapter. Christ’s self-emptying becomes the pattern Timothy lives out at an ordinary human scale. It’s the shape a life takes when it’s formed by years of caring about the right things instead of your own convenience, which is exactly what Timothy shows us.
Lord, thank you for people like Timothy, ordinary and faithful, who taught the church what it looks like to actually mean the concern we say we have for each other. Forgive me for the times my care for others has been more performance than substance. Build in me the kind of trustworthiness that takes years, not moments, to earn. Help me care about what matters to you more than what’s convenient for me. Amen.
Brandon Gergory has attended Church of the Resurrection since 2005 and serves on the worship teams. Outside of church, he's a writer and manager in the technology industry. He's also into cats.
Let’s try something. Think of what’s wrong with the world and how it could be better. Think about what would need to change to make the world better. I have a long list, and I’m sure we all do. It might include limiting our usage of certain technologies, reducing our exposure to false or misleading sources of information, or addressing systemic issues that disproportionately hurt some groups of people. These are all good things. But I wonder how many of us would list something much simpler: What needs to change to make the world better is for me to be a more caring person.
Often, when I think about the change I want to see in the world, it’s a change in other people. I have some clever ways of dressing it up as empathy. I’ll say people don’t know what they’re talking about, and they need me to tell them what they really need. The problems they worry about aren’t valid; they need my knowledge to focus on the right problems.
I’m reminded of a quote from the movie Rogue One. The heroic Jyn Erso flees when an unknown party attacks her captors. The droid K-2SO knocks her to the ground and says, “You are being rescued. Please do not resist.” That would make it so much easier for me to help people.
I’m not saying that a little empathy will solve deep systemic issues. Empathy won’t fix our environment (but don’t worry—you don’t have to atone for eating meat). But if we’re serious about fixing things and making the world a better place, empathy is the best place to start.
When the church in Philippi needed help, Paul didn’t send the person with the longest list of things he would change; he sent the person who cared the most. That doesn’t discount Timothy’s talent or qualifications—he was an outstanding person for the job—but his greatest qualification was his care for the Philippians and his desire to see which problems they wanted to solve.
It doesn’t matter how great our ideas and intentions are if we don’t understand people’s concerns and pain points. Empathy isn’t a solution, but it’s a prerequisite for any solution. That’s why Paul sent Timothy, and it’s what each of us needs to verify before we can go out and change the world.
* William Barclay, The Letters to the Philippians, Colossians, and Thessalonians (Daily Study Bible Series). Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1975, 48.