We are at the end of Paul’s life. This second letter to Timothy has been filled with emotion and as we come to the end of it Paul is vulnerable as he contemplates on the people he has had in his life.
When I became a Pastor there was a sought after preacher who everyone wanted to hear. Several years ago now a friend attended his funeral. It wasn’t really a Christian funeral, in fact, one of the eulogies came from a work colleague, who said “when he started at work he told us he was a Pentecostal Pastor but then he became one of us” he then quoted something that he was well known for, which wasn’t fitting for any Christian.
What makes men and women move from such places in God to become shadows of who they were?
What do they think about when they’ve walked away?
Do they still pray?
Do they rubbish their experience of God?
Did they have anything to walk away from?
“Do your best to come to me quickly, for Demas, because he loved this world, has deserted me and has gone to Thessalonica. Crescens has gone to Galatia, and Titus to Dalmatia.” (2 Timothy v 9-10)
Crescens and Dalmatia were seemingly commissioned to represent missionary departures. Paul mentions them matter-of-factly, without emotion or judgment, because their leaving advanced the very cause for which Paul himself was imprisoned.
But Demas? This is where we become sad. Perhaps you know of a Demas?
Some may think it was an abandoning of his salvation. But maybe it wasn’t.
It could be simply this, the choice between looking after an old Apostle trapped in prison, going nowhere, the thrill of missionary journeys having ended, well, it doesn’t sound like fun does it? Demas needed to live his life, he needed to see the world and get what it had to offer him, he had dreams you see. If so, it hurt.
This wasn’t a fair-weather friend walking away, this was a close associate, someone who had seen the power of the gospel firsthand, someone who had witnessed Paul’s unwavering faith through previous imprisonments.
This makes his desertion all the more painful. It’s one thing to be abandoned by strangers; it’s another to be left by those who once stood beside you in the work of the kingdom.
We don’t know what became of Demas after Thessalonica. Did he ever return? Did he find what he was looking for in the temporal pleasures of this world? History is silent on his ultimate fate.
The question remains: When the cost of faithfulness rises, what will our response be? Will we, like Demas, choose the temporary comfort of this world?
The choice, as it was for Demas, remains ours.
If you had a friend who became a Demas, it will have hurt you but draw comfort as Paul looks back on those that were with him, some stayed and some left, yet he has remained faithful to God.
Missions Paul 