Stand By Me
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Sermon Title: Stand By Me
Scripture: 2 Timothy 4:9-22
Occasion: The Lord’s Day
Date: April 6, 2025
“Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.”
1 Ti 1:2.
Opening Prayer
Opening Prayer
Sermon Title: Stand By ME
Introduction:
In 1986, a film was released that captured the heart of a generation.
It was called Stand by Me—a story not so much about the journey to find a missing boy’s body, but about the deeper journey of friendship, courage, and what it means to walk through the dark woods of life with someone beside you.
At the center of that film was a song—soulful, simple, unforgettable.
"When the night has come, and the land is dark,
And the moon is the only light we'll see...
I won’t be afraid, no I won’t be afraid,
Just as long as you stand, stand by me."
There’s something about that lyric that resonates with us—because darkness does come.
The land does grow dim.
Friends fade.
Circumstances crumble.
We do face nights when the moon is the only light we can find.
And in moments like that, we long—we ache—for someone to stand by us.
And that is precisely the moment we find the Apostle Paul in here at the close of 2 Timothy.
He’s not writing a song or a screenplay—he’s writing his final words. Cold.
Imprisoned.
Abandoned by many.
A man who has run his race and now sees the finish line approaching fast.
He writes not from a place of nostalgia, but from a place of unshakable confidence.
Why?
Because the Lord Jesus Christ stood by him. (v17)
When others left, when danger closed in, when the end drew near—Jesus remained.
Paul isn’t shaken.
He doesn’t write in fear.
His hope is anchored in a presence greater than any friend, a power stronger than any opposition, and a peace deeper than the grave itself.
That’s the message of this text.
And it’s the message your soul needs when the night has come and the land is dark.
When the people you thought would be there aren’t.
When ministry feels lonely.
When death looms large.
What then?
"I won’t cry, I won’t cry, no I won’t shed a tear,
Just as long as you stand, stand by me."
Beloved, this is not just a sentimental lyric.
For Paul—and for us—it is gospel truth.
Christ does stand by His people.
Not just in the good days.
Not just in the crowds.
But in the cold, dark, lonely nights of life and death.
And He does not fail.
So here’s where we’re going in this text—three reminders of God’s presence and provision in life’s final stretch:
Presence – When others abandon us, the Lord stands by us. (vv. 9–16)
Power – When we are weak, the Lord strengthens us. (v. 17)
Peace – When we face death, the Lord delivers and welcomes us. (vv. 17b–22)
This is Paul’s final testimony.
And it could be ours, too.
Transition:
So first, let’s consider this:
What happens when others walk away?
What happens when we're left alone?
Paul shows us that even then, we are never truly abandoned.
1. Presence – When others abandon us, the Lord stands by us (vv. 9–16)
1. Presence – When others abandon us, the Lord stands by us (vv. 9–16)
Paul begins this section not with doctrinal exhortation, but with a personal, urgent plea:
Do your best to come to me soon.
The word Paul uses—σπούδασον—is more than a suggestion.
It’s a heartfelt plea: Hurry. Make every effort.
And he adds “soon” because he knows—his time is short (v. 6). Execution is near.
He’s cold, lonely, and nearing the end.
So he writes to Timothy not just as an apostle—but as a spiritual father longing to see his son.
When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, also the books, and above all the parchments.
Verse 13 gives us a window into just how human this moment is.
He’s freezing in a Roman dungeon.
Likely chained.
Likely sick.
And yet—he still wants the Scriptures.
Even in death, Paul hasn’t stopped reading, meditating, and preparing. That’s a man who clings to the presence of God.
Application:
And brothers and sisters—this is a powerful picture of what it looks like to suffer with hope.
Because let’s be honest:
When trials come, what’s our natural reaction?
We shut down.
We isolate.
We stop reading.
We stop praying.
We stop showing up.
We detach from community.
We say things like:
“I just need a break.” “I’m tired.” “I can’t feel God, so why try?”
But Paul shows us a better way:
Not to retreat from the Word—but to run to it.
Not to pull away from prayer—but to press in.
Not to avoid people—but to reach out.
The very things we’re tempted to leave behind in the dark are the very things God uses to bring us through it:
The Word, prayer, and fellowship with the saints.
These are not luxuries for easy seasons—they are lifelines in the storm.
So when the night comes… when the cold seeps in… when the dungeon feels too dark and the weight is too much—don’t pull away! Press in!
And yet—what surrounds Paul in this final season is absence.
The very thing Paul desired most and what we frequently take for granted, he didn’t have.
For Demas, in love with this present world, has deserted me and gone to Thessalonica. Crescens has gone to Galatia, Titus to Dalmatia.
Demas—once a beloved coworker (Philemon 24; Colossians 4:14)—has walked away.
Not in open rebellion, but in quiet retreat.
Not in blasphemy, but in preference.
He chose comfort over cost.
Ease over gospel burden.
Like the seed choked by the cares of the world (Mark 4:19), Demas was slowly lured away by the present age.
And it still happens.
People don’t storm out of the church angry. They drift.
One week they’re serving, praying, laboring side by side.
Then life gets full.
Kids have sports.
Work gets demanding.
A new house, a side hustle, a little more “me time.”
And slowly—quietly—they begin to disappear.
No scandal.
No big announcement. Just… gone.
They’ll still say, “I’m faithful.”
But, friends, scripture calls it what it is: desertion.
( Desertion: means to leave helpless, to give up on, leave behind, or to leave over)
And sometimes, desertion is cloaked in good things like—“I need to focus on my family… we just need space… it’s a busy season.”
*Beloved, be careful—when we begin using God’s gifts to excuse us from God’s mission, we are walking the path of Demas.
Even family—beautiful and God-given—can become a shield we hide behind when comfort is king.
Church, beware.
The present world is preaching to you—“Choose comfort. Choose safety. Choose now.”
But our Lord and Master bids us to…
But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.
Don’t let ease rob you of eternal reward.
Don’t trade the mission for the moment.
Don’t be Demas.
And while others weren’t traitors in this text, they were still gone.
Crescens and Titus—probably sent on gospel work—are still absent.
Tychicus is off in Ephesus, likely filling in for Timothy so he can come.
Only Luke remains.
Steady, loyal Luke—the beloved physician who stood through thick and thin.
And then, Paul mentions Mark.
Once the source of conflict between Paul and Barnabas (Acts 15:37–39), now Paul says these precious gospel words:
Luke alone is with me. Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is very useful to me for ministry.
Paul wants Mark near.
What grace.
What restoration.
What reconciliation.
Application:
If you're still breathing, restoration is possible.
Go and reconcile with your family in Christ!
But then comes perhaps Paul’s deepest wound:
Alexander the coppersmith did me great harm; the Lord will repay him according to his deeds.
This is likely the same Alexander from 1 Timothy 1:20, who had been handed over to Satan for blasphemy.
The same Alexander from Acts 19, present at the riot in Ephesus.
Either way, this man didn't just drift—he actively opposed the gospel.
Perhaps he even turned Paul in, and is the reason for his imprisonment.
And yet, notice that Paul doesn’t seek revenge.
He entrusts it to the Lord: “The Lord will repay him.” (v.14)
And then we come to verse 16—by now, you should feel the weight of Paul’s isolation reaching its peak.
At my first defense no one came to stand by me, but all deserted me.
Imagine it for a moment:
The trial begins.
The room is silent.
Paul stands alone.
No one spoke.
No one showed up.
How would that make you feel?
What would your response be in that moment?
And still—Paul, unlike my likely response and your likely human response, Paul doesn’t grow bitter.
He prays:
May it not be charged against them!
How?
How can he say that?
Here’s the answer:
But the Lord stood by me …
His ability to forgive those who failed him…
His refusal to retaliate against those who hurt him…
His peace in isolation…
It all flows from this one truth: Christ was present.
That’s the gospel, folks!
When we trust in Christ and are united to Him by faith, this becomes our reality—not that we always stand by Him, but that He always stands by us.
The same Jesus who stood by Stephen as he was stoned (Acts 7).
The One who promised, “I will never leave you nor forsake you” (Heb. 13:5).
The One who declared, “I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matt. 28:20).
Is with us no matter what this life might bring our way and who might be by our side!
This is the great truth of Christ’s first Advent, His incarnation-God with us.
When Paul was abandoned in court—the King of Heaven stood beside him.
When earthly support collapsed—Christ’s presence never wavered.
Application:
Some of you know this feeling.
The text that never comes.
The friend who disappears.
The spouse who walks away.
The church leader who once stood with you… now silent.
You’ve felt abandoned.
Forgotten.
Overlooked.
But hear this my dear friend:
Jesus stands by His people through thick and thin, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health.
Jesus stands with us, not just in the crowd—but in the silence.
Not just in the sunshine—but in the storm.
Not just when ministry is booming—but when life feels empty.
You may be alone this morning—but you are not forsaken.
You may be ignored—but you are not invisible.
You may be betrayed—but Christ is loyal still.
So take heart.
The presence of Jesus is not a metaphor—it is your reality in Christ.
And remember this truth from this text this morning:
When the world walks out on you—Jesus walks in.
Transition:
But Jesus doesn’t just stand by us—He strengthens us.
When our hands tremble and our knees buckle, He provides power for the purpose He’s called us to fulfill.
2. Power – When we are weak, the Lord strengthens us (v. 17a)
2. Power – When we are weak, the Lord strengthens us (v. 17a)
Let’s pick back up in verse 17:
But the Lord stood by me and strengthened me…
Beloved, not only does Jesus stand with us—He strengthens us.
He is not a silent bystander. He is our ever present help in time of need.(Psalm 46:1)
In Paul’s darkest hour—deserted, exposed, facing death—Jesus did not simply sit with him in sympathy.
He strengthened him.
The word Paul uses here—ἐνδυναμόω—means to empower, to infuse with ability.
It’s the same word used in Ephesians 6:10:
Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might.
This is divine enablement.
This is supernatural fuel in a moment of total weakness.
And notice:
Paul doesn’t say why he was strengthened until after he tells us he was.
The Lord’s presence came first, and power followed.
This is the pattern all throughout Scripture:
Moses: “Lord, I can’t speak.” God: “I will be with your mouth.”
Gideon: “I’m the least of the least.” God: “Go in the strength you have—I will be with you.”
Jeremiah: “I am only a youth.” God: “Do not be afraid… for I am with you.”
Jesus to His disciples: “Apart from Me you can do nothing… but behold, I am with you always.”
This is God’s way, dear church.
He meets His people not at the height of their strength, but at the depth of their need.
Paul’s hands may have been trembling in chains, but the Spirit of Christ steadied his soul.
He didn’t muster strength—he was given strength.
And for what purpose?
… so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it…
Catch that:
God didn’t just strengthen Paul for personal comfort.
He strengthened him for gospel mission!
The prison became a pulpit.
The courtroom became a global stage.
The weakness of one man became a megaphone for the power of God.
(Someone help me preach TODAY!)
Don’t miss the beauty here:
Paul is testifying that even in trial, God didn’t waste his suffering.
He used it.
He empowered him to preach.
He may have stood alone—but the gospel went forth to the nations.
Oh, what a rebuke to our self-centered view of hardship!
We think strength is for survival.
God says it’s for proclamation.
He strengthens you—not just to endure, but to declare.
Even in affliction, your life is a witness.
Application:
Application:
Beloved, some of you are tired this morning.
Tired of the grind.
Tired of the burden.
Tired of being faithful when no one seems to notice.
You feel like you’ve got nothing left to give.
And I want to say—you’re in the perfect position to be filled with the strength of Christ.
Because that’s when God moves!
When you reach the end of your rope, He begins His mighty work.
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
You say, “I’m too weak to lead my family.”
He says, “I’ll strengthen you.”
You say, “I can’t walk through this illness, this grief, this valley.”
He says, “I’ll carry you.”
You say, “I’ve got nothing left to give in ministry.”
He says, “I will give you more grace.”
Let His power meet your weakness today.
You don’t need more energy—you need more Christ.
So press in.
Preach through the pain.
Lean into His sufficiency.
If you can’t tell already, I’m preaching to myself.
And remember this, beloved:
The presence of Christ is never passive.
He stands with you—and He strengthens you.
Transition:
But that’s not all.
Paul’s testimony doesn’t stop with presence… or even power.
It moves one step further—into eternity.
Christ not only stood by him.
Christ not only strengthened him.
Christ would bring him home.
Let’s look now at the final verses… and the final peace.
3. Peace – When we face death, the Lord delivers and welcomes us (vv. 17b–22)
3. Peace – When we face death, the Lord delivers and welcomes us (vv. 17b–22)
Let’s look again at verse 17 to kick of this last point:
But the Lord stood by me and strengthened me, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it (Covered that, but look closely now at this sentence…) So I was rescued from the lion’s mouth.
What does Paul mean by this sentence?
It’s an echo from the Old Testament—a reference that brings to mind Daniel, who was literally delivered from the lions in a Babylonian pit.
But Paul isn’t speaking about animals here.
This is imagery.
He’s likely referring either to a literal threat on his life, or more symbolically, to the very real danger of Roman execution or Satanic attack.
Peter uses the same kind of language:
…Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.
Paul is saying, “They tried to destroy me. The enemy came for me. But the Lord rescued me.”
Now, remember—Paul isn’t saying he’ll be saved from death.
He’s already said his departure is near (v. 6).
Instead, he’s saying: “I was delivered once more—not ultimately from death itself, but from premature destruction so that I could finish my course.”
Illustration:
It’s like a candle sheltered by a hand in the middle of a storm.
The winds howl.
The rain lashes.
But the flame doesn’t go out—because the hand holds steady.
That’s what God does for His servants.
Paul isn’t saying, “The storm stopped.”
He’s saying, “The flame kept burning.”
Because, as Philippians 1:6 declares:
And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.
God will not let the flame die until the mission is done.
He will hold you.
He will keep you.
He will finish what He started.
But now in verse 18, he turns his eyes forward:
The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed and bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.
This verse is stunning.
Paul isn’t clinging to earthly hope.
He’s clinging to eternal assurance.
He’s not expecting release from Caesar—he’s expecting a welcome from Christ.
“Rescue” here doesn’t mean escape—it means entrance.
That phrase—“bring me safely”—pictures a battered ship arriving at port, carried not by its own strength but by the faithful hand of the Captain.
Paul is saying:
They may take my head—but they cannot touch my soul.
Or in the famous words of King David…
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
That’s the kind of peace Paul has.
Not panic, but praise.
Not dread, but doxology.
Even with execution on the horizon, he erupts in worship:
“To Him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.”
How?
Why?
Because death doesn’t win—Jesus does.
Because the Victor, King Jesus, has conquered sin and death, and has captured the flag of our Salvation!
Application:
Application:
Friend, are you ready for that day?
Do you have this peace?
Because you will face death.
But here’s the question:
Will you face it alone, or with the Savior who stands by you?
If you are in Christ, hear this:
He has already faced death for you.
He’s taken its sting.
He’s crushed its grip.
He’s turned the grave into a garden.
“To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.” (2 Cor. 5:8)
For the believer, death is no longer a curse—it’s a doorway.
A doorway into the presence of Jesus Himself.
That’s why Paul ends not in despair—but in worship.
Final Reflections (vv. 19–22)
Final Reflections (vv. 19–22)
And then, almost like the cool of the evening breeze, Paul finishes his letter with warmth:
He greets Prisca and Aquila, his beloved co-laborers from long ago…(v.19)
Mentions Erastus, Trophimus…(v.20)
Urges Timothy again—“Do your best to come before winter.”(v.21)
And his final line—the last words we ever hear from the Apostle Paul—are not a shout, but a benediction:
The Lord be with your spirit. Grace be with you.
It’s quiet.
It’s personal.
It’s full of hope.
These aren’t just the final words of a letter…
They are the final words of a life—a life lived faithful with Jesus to the end.
Conclusion:
Beloved, we’ve walked with Paul to the edge of eternity.
We’ve seen his loneliness… felt his weakness… watched as others walked away.
And yet—he stood.
Why?
Because Jesus stood by him.
Presence. Power. Peace.
That’s the gospel reality for every who trusts in Christ this morning.
Not because you’re strong.
Not because you’ve earned it.
But because Jesus was forsaken on the cross—so you never would be.
He stood in your place so He could stand by your side. Always.
So I ask you today:
Do you know this Savior who never leaves, never fails, never lets go?
If not—run to Him.
Fall at His feet.
Trust in the One who faced death so you could face life with peace.
And if you are His—hold fast.
When others desert you, He will not.
When your strength fails, His won’t.
And when death comes close—He will carry you safely home.
As Paul wrote in verse 18, “The Lord will rescue me... and bring me safely into His heavenly kingdom.”
And so we close where we began—not in fear, but in hope.
Remember that song we mentioned at the start?
That old lyric that echoes the cry of every heart:
“Just as long as you stand, stand by me.”
Paul didn’t just sing that line—he lived it.
And he found what all our souls long for: a Savior who never walks away.
And if the words of Ben E. King resonate with our human longing, then the words of an older, richer hymn that we sang this morning answer it with gospel certainty:
Be still, my soul! the hour is hast’ning on
When we shall be forever with the Lord,
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul! when change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.
Yes, beloved—Jesus will stand by you…
In life.
In death.
And forevermore.
Amen.
PRAYER
Closing Prayer:
Lord Jesus,
We thank You that You are the Friend who never leaves, the Savior who always stands near.
When others abandon us—You stand by us.
When we are weak—You strengthen us.
And when we face death—You deliver and welcome us home.
We confess, Lord, that far too often we drift.
We chase comfort. We retreat in fear.
But today, we lay it all down.
We press in.
We press into Your Word, into prayer, into one another, and into the presence of the One who stood alone—so we would never have to.
Lord, for the weary—be their strength.
For the forsaken—be their companion.
For the anxious—be their peace.
And for the unbelieving—be their Savior.
Carry us, Jesus, until the hour is hastening on—
When we shall be forever with You.
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone.
When sorrow is forgotten, and joy is restored.
Be still our souls, O Lord… for You stand by us, even now.
And we pray all this in the name of the One who will bring us safely into His heavenly kingdom—
To You be the glory forever and ever.
Amen.
