1 Timothy 2:1-15 · Instructions on Worship
Making Your Life Count
1 Timothy 2:5-7
Sermon
by King Duncan
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There is an old, old story about a college professor who was being ferried across a body of water. The professor chided the ferryman, who was performing this service for him, for his ungrammatical language. When he learned the ferryman never attended school, the professor said: “What? Half of your life has been wasted!”

Shortly afterwards, the ferryman asked, “Professor, did you ever learn to swim?”

“No, I did not,” replied the professor.

“Well,” said the ferryman, “in that case it seems all your life has been wasted . . . we’re sinking.”

A life is a terrible thing to waste, isn’t it?

Do you know the story of Arthur Barry? Arthur Barry is considered the greatest jewel thief of all time.  He committed more than 150 robberies stealing millions of dollars worth of jewelry. Interestingly, he only robbed people in high society. He wore a tuxedo while committing his crimes and was said to be so charming that on several occasions, when caught in the act of robbery, talked his victims out of immediately reporting the crime. However, the law finally caught up with Arthur Barry and he spent seventeen years in prison for his crimes.  After his release he worked as a waiter at a restaurant on the East Coast, making fifty dollars a week.

A news reporter subsequently tracked him down and asked him about his life of crime. Here is how Arthur Barry summed up his life: “I’m not very good at drawing morals,” he said, “but when I was young I had intelligence, charm, the ability to get along with people, and guts.  I could have made something out of my life, but I didn’t.  So, when you write the story of my life and tell people about all these robberies, don’t leave out the big one.  You can tell them that Arthur Barry robbed Jessie Livermore, the Wall Street baron.  And you can tell them that he robbed the cousin of the King of England.  But don’t forget to tell them that, most of all, Arthur Barry robbed Arthur Barry.” (1) That is the most important person Arthur Barry robbed . . . himself.

Here is a question for each of us this day: Could we come to the end of our lives and conclude that we have robbed ourselves of the opportunity to make our lives count? Could we conclude that our lives have been largely wasted, that there was really no point to them at all? Is there a way whereby we can know that our lives really do matter?

I don’t believe that anyone would have charged the Apostle Paul with having wasted his life. He was charged with many other things. He was beaten and thrown into prison because of numerous confrontations with political and religious authorities, but never could he have been charged with wasting his life. Indeed, few people have ever made the contributions to human existence that St. Paul made. 

It was St. Paul who took the gospel to the Gentiles. It was St. Paul who gave us the most beautiful description of love ever written in I Corinthians 13. It was St. Paul who gave us the definitive statement on life after death in I Corinthians 15. St. Paul was certainly one of the most influential men who ever lived. Ironically, he would receive even more credit for his contributions if he had not been so effective in convincing us that he was but an instrument of the risen Christ. 

The secret to his purposeful and powerful life is contained in these words from I Timothy 2: 5-7. “For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all . . . For this I was appointed a preacher and apostle . . . a teacher of the Gentiles in faith and truth.” 

Let’s consider for a moment that first clause; “For there is one God . . .” You and I take that great truth for granted. The writers of the Bible could not. They knew what a struggle it had been for their fathers to declare the unity of God. Their neighbors worshiped many gods. 

It was these stubborn Jews alone who maintained that there was but one God, Yahweh, and that there could be no other gods before Him. 

They declared the unity of God, and they declared the universality of God. Yahweh is the God of all creation. Indeed, He is the creator of all that lives and moves and has its being (Acts 17:28).

This truth brings to mind an observation of Oscar Hammerstein II. He was once privileged to view the Statue of Liberty close-up from a helicopter. He was quite impressed by the great painstaking detail that the sculptor had employed on this statue—even on the very top of the head. Every strand of hair was in place. What impressed Hammerstein so was that the sculptor lived before helicopters or airplanes. He could not know that the top of the statue’s head would ever be viewed by anyone except perhaps a few seagulls—yet he went to the trouble to do his work right. 

Of course the handiwork of the greatest human sculptor of all times pales in comparison to the work of God. Consider the magnificence of the body you inhabit. Talk about painstaking detail! Who would be foolish enough to declare that there was no superior intelligence behind the creation of this world? 

The children of Israel declared his unity and his universality, but even more importantly, they declared his unique intimacy with the world he had created. Yahweh was no remote god who had created a world and then forgotten it. He was involved in the life of his people in a very personal way. 

In her book Traveling Mercies author Anne Lamott tells how one day she found herself broke, drunk, suffering from bulimia, depressed, and addicted to drugs.  She said, “I could no longer imagine how God could love me.” 

Desperate, she set an appointment with an Episcopal priest.  She told him, “I’m so messed up that I don’t think God can love me.” 

The priest replied, “God has to love you.  That’s God’s job.” (2)

That’s true. God’s job is to love us. Why? Because in 1 John 4:8 we are told that “God is love.” That’s His very nature.  He is intimately involved with His world and in the lives of each of His children. “There is one God,” declares St. Paul. 

Then he adds, “And there is but one mediator between God and men, the man Jesus Christ, who gave himself a ransom for all . . .” We have moved now from the universal to the specific. Our Muslim friends declare that there is but one God. Our Jewish friends declare that there is but one God. Most thinking people in the world today declare that there is but one God, but it is the unique claim of the people called Christians that there is but one mediator between God and human beings, the man Jesus. 

Again, this was no frivolous claim. Most of the early Christians had been Jews. The God they worshiped was a God of power, majesty and strength. To look upon God was to die. To even touch the things of God with unclean hands was to risk awful retribution. The Jewish God was no “man upstairs.” He was a God whose glory could not even be properly contemplated by mere mortals. And yet, St. John writes in the prologue to his Epistle, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God . . . and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth; we have beheld his glory, glory as of the only Son of the Father . . .” John’s hands must have trembled as he wrote those words: “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us . . .” 

The early disciples believed with all their hearts that there was but one mediator between God and humanity. There was one way, one truth, one life, one shepherd, one door—and that was Jesus. 

They heard him teach, they saw him heal people’s hurts, they witnessed his death upon Golgotha and they encountered him in his eternal glory on the road to Emmaus, in the Upper Room and on the mountain where he ascended to the Father. And throughout the New Testament they tried to sum up the impact of his life on theirs. They called him Prophet, High Priest, Servant of God, Lamb of God, Son of David, Son of man, Holy One of God, Son of God, Savior, Messiah, King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

E. Stanley Jones, that great missionary/evangelist/writer once said that this is the great divide between Christianity and the world religions. Not that they do not have truth, not that they lack noble sentiments, gracious teaching, or gifted leaders. But in them, said Jones, the Word became word—a set of teachings, a morality, a religious framework. Only within Christianity does the Word become flesh. And it is that Word become flesh that offers human beings access to the Father. 

In his great work Four Quartets, T.S. Eliot pictures the entire human race as patients in a hospital ward. There we lie sick and dying. Ministering to us, however, is a physician, the most splendid physician of all. Only, if you look closely, the physician himself is wounded. He bends over us with “bleeding hands.” Only he can heal us—only he can save. That physician, of course, is Christ. 

“There is one God . . . there is one mediator . . .” writes St. Paul. “For this I was appointed a preacher and apostle . . . a teacher of the Gentiles in faith and truth . . .” 

What does all this have to do with St. Paul’s sense of power and purpose? St. Paul’s life was grounded in his knowledge of God and his experience of Christ. That knowledge and that experience had two effects on St. Paul’s life. We may call the first effect the focal effect and the second, the funnel effect.

When we speak of the focal effect, we are speaking of the power of being focused on a single, world-changing task. We know now that great accomplishments in this world are made by persons who are totally dedicated to a single cause. St. Paul’s great cause was to glorify God—whether he was making tents or writing letters to young churches, or preaching on street corners, the object was the same. He did all things to the glory of God. And, my friends, that is your task and mine as well. To do everything we do—whether it be in an office, on a construction site, in a classroom, at home or wherever—to do everything we do to the glory of God. 

How do we make a difference in the world? We do it by centering in on everything we do and asking ourselves: Is this something I can do to God’s glory? If it is, we ought to give ourselves to it with total abandon. That is one secret of a super, successful life—to have a focal point for our lives that we can believe in without reservation and to give all we have to it. That is the focal effect. 

The second effect we may call the funnel effect. St. Paul saw himself as a funnel through which God’s purpose and power could flow. Someone did a study of the lives of great people and they discovered that invariably these monumental achievers did not consider the path of greatness as leading from them but rather as leading through them. The source was somewhere other than themselves.

Have you ever completed a task and looked at it and thought to yourself, “Wow, I couldn’t have done that! It’s simply too grand!” It’s a wonderful feeling. Have you felt that behind your work was an unseen hand? St. Paul believed that about his life. He was but a channel through which God’s power flowed. 

A brawny man stood in front of a painting by the great artist John Singer Sargent in an art gallery in New York City. He kept muttering to himself, “I’ve been given a place at last. I have a place at last.”

Artist Robert Henri was standing nearby. Henri was mystified at the man’s words. “Are you in this sort of work?” he asked the man.

“Oh, yes,” said the man, “but this is the first time I’ve been displayed like this.”

Now Henri really was disturbed. “But I thought that this work was by the great painter Sargent,” he said.

“That’s right,” said the man, “but it was me that made the frame.”

St. Paul saw himself as the frame, but Christ was the painting. It was the power of the risen Christ working through him that was the source of his great accomplishments. “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live,” wrote St. Paul on one occasion, “but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Galatians 2:20). Is that a truth too great for our little hearts? It is to say that if we will but surrender our lives, there is a source of power available to us—that can flow through us—and help us to accomplish more than we ever dreamed possible.

William Speidel wrote in Reader’s Digest about the one member of his family that provides the go-power for their family. He said, “My wife, Donna, is the spark plug who makes sure the kids are up on time to eat and then catch the school bus. One day she had an early meeting and left while the rest of us were sleeping. By the time the kids and I dragged ourselves out of bed and through our morning routine, we were late. My daughter and son wanted notes for their teachers, excusing their tardiness. ‘Okay,’ I said, ‘but what’s the reason?’ After some discussion we settled on [this explanation]: ‘Please excuse this lateness. Our power went out early this morning.’” (3)

Well, they told the truth. Mom was the power in their family and she had left early that morning. In the same way, the power that helped St. Paul accomplish things very few people ever accomplish did not come from him so much as it came through him from another source. That power was the power of the Holy Spirit. He was the funnel for that power.

St. Paul could never have been accused of wasting his life. He made his life count. How? By surrendering his life to Christ and allowing Christ to live through him. That great scholar Augustine once said that there were three things he would like to have seen:  1. Jesus in the flesh; 2. Imperial Rome in its splendor; 3. St. Paul preaching. 

It is no wonder. St. Paul preached as he did everything else—to the glory of God. St. Paul believed that divine energy flowed through him. That is what a renewed faith in God and in Christ can do for us—it can give us new power, new purpose for the living of our lives—to the extent that all may see our good works and glorify our Father which is in heaven.  Amen.


1. R. Wallace, “Confessions of a Master,” Reader’s Digest, July 1956, p. 44. Cited in  Proclaim magazine, 4th Qt., 1987.

2. (Random House, 2000). Cited by John Fairless, The Lectionary Lab Commentary with Stories and Sermons for Year A (The Lectionary Lab), p. 127.

3. Rick Ezell https://www.lifeway.com/en/articles/sermon-living-powerfully-2-timothy-1.

ChristianGlobe Networks, Inc., Dynamic Preaching Third Quarter 2019, by King Duncan