The Noble Fight
Introduction:
If there is going to be a war, men must be ready to fight. This is the lesson of the first battle of Manassas (or Bull Run), the first major engagement of the American Civil War.
There had been talk of war for months, ever since South Carolina fired on Fort Sumter in early April of 1861. Both the North and the South hurriedly prepared for the conflict. By early July, each side was ready for war and certain of an easy victory. When Union general Irvin McDowell addressed his troops on the eve of battle, his only fear was that the enemy would be unable to put up a good fight.
The first shots were fired in northern Virginia late on the 8th of July. News of the skirmish reached Washington by nightfall. Since a Union victory seemed inevitable, the battle was treated as the social event of the summer. The next morning, the ladies and gentlemen of high society gaily packed their hampers, piled into carriages, and rode to Bull Run for a picnic.
But the day turned out to be anything but festive. The scene of battle was one of unimagined chaos and horror. The commanders were unaccustomed to warfare on such a grand scale. The armies did not so much engage as collide. The fighting was fierce until Stonewall Jackson led the Confederate soldiers on a bayonet charge. The Union was routed, with three thousand soldiers left dead or bleeding on the battlefield. The Washington socialites ran for their lives, their army defeated because it was not ready to fight.1
While ascending his pulpit regularly, he met much difficulty on every side. Frail in stature, Calvin suffered many ailments. He also endured physical threats to his life. Yet Calvin never ceased his exposition.
Further, groups of Geneva’s citizens caused him much pain, not the least of them being the Libertines, who boasted in sinful licentiousness. Sexual immorality was permissible, they claimed, arguing that the “communion of the saints” meant that their bodies should be joined to the wives of others. The Libertines openly practiced adultery and yet desired to come to the Lord’s Table. But Calvin would have none of it.
In an epic encounter, Philibert Berthelier, a prominent Libertine, was excommunicated because of his known sexual promiscuity. Consequently, he was forbidden from partaking of the Lord’s Supper. Through the underhanded influence of the Libertines, the City Council overrode the church’s decision, and Berthelier and his associates came to church to take the Lord’s Supper with swords drawn, ready to fight. With bold audacity, Calvin descended from the pulpit, stood in front of the Communion table, and said, “These hands you may crush, these arms you may lop off, my life you may take, my blood is yours, you may shed it; but you shall never force me to give holy things to the profaned and dishonor the table of my God.”17 Berthelier and the Libertines withdrew, no match for such unflinching convictions.
I. The Responsibility Directed (vs. 18)
A. Timothy has a Command to Obey (vs. 18)
Every servant of the Lord is duty-bound to carry out his ministry. Moses (Ex. 4:10–16), Isaiah (Isa. 6:8–11), Jeremiah (Jer. 20:9), Ezekiel (Ezek. 2:7–8), and Jonah (Jonah 1:1–2) all were given a charge to fulfill. In 2 Timothy 4:1–2 Paul commanded Timothy to preach the Word “in season and out of season.” In our society, with its emphasis on entertainment, anti-authoritarian attitude, critic mentality, and psychological orientation, our message will often be rejected. That, however, does not excuse us from our duty (cf. Jer. 7:27; Ezek. 2:4–5; 3:7; 33:30–32).
B. Timothy had a Commission to Fulfill (vs. 18b)
C. Timothy had a Confirmation to up to (vs. 18c)
The good warfare is the struggle to defend those doctrines which are essential to the Christian faith. This includes doctrines like the reality of the Trinity, the deity of Jesus Christ, the necessity of atonement for sin, the sufficiency of Christ’s death on the cross, the efficacy of faith alone for justification, and the infallibility of Holy Scripture. Such deep theological truths are well worth fighting for.
This good fight began in the Old Testament. By the time Moses came down from the mountain, the children of Israel were already worshiping the golden calf (Ex. 32). Joshua had to confront them with the choice between serving God and serving the gods (Josh. 24). Elijah was outnumbered by the prophets of Baal, 450 to 1 (1 Kings 18). Although not all God’s prophets faced the same odds, they all faced the same enemy. Like Ezekiel, they had to oppose “the prophets who see false visions and who give lying divinations” (Ezek. 13:9).
The subsequent history of the church is largely a story of doctrinal confrontation. First the church had to defend the doctrine of the Trinity, settled by the Council of Nicea (AD 325). Then the church had to defend the sovereignty of God’s grace against the man-centered doctrines of Pelagius (the Council of Ephesus, 431). All the while there were arguments over the deity of Jesus Christ, which were gradually settled by the Councils of Constantinople (381), Ephesus (431), and Chalcedon (451).
In the Middle Ages, the way of salvation came under attack. Eventually, because of doctrinal error, it was necessary for the Holy Spirit to reform the church. Scripture had to be defended as the alone standard for faith and practice (sola scriptura). Christ had to be defended as the alone mediator between God and man (solus Christus). Faith had to be defended as the alone instrument of justification (sola fide). Grace had to be defended as the alone power of God for salvation (sola gratia). And all these doctrines had to be defended in order to promote the greater glory of God, who alone is worthy of praise (soli Deo Gloria).
The good fight continued up through the twentieth century. There was the good fight between fundamentalism and modernism, fought by J. Gresham Machen and others. It was a fight between Christianity as a supernatural religion and Christianity explained away as human experience. This later became the fight between evangelicalism and liberalism, which Billy Graham, Carl F. H. Henry, and others waged during the middle part of the century, and which continued afterward.
First, it is the fight for biblical inerrancy. The evangelical church won the battle for the Bible which James Boice, Francis Schaeffer, and others fought during the 1970s and 80s, but it may be losing the war. Inerrancy is still regarded as a cardinal affirmation. Members of the Evangelical Theological Society affirm every year that “the Bible alone, and the Bible in its entirety, is the Word of God written and is therefore inerrant in the autographs.” However, students and teachers in some evangelical churches and seminaries hold more loosely to the orthodox doctrine of Scripture, in some cases drawing a spurious distinction between infallibility and inerrancy, or else advocating interpretations that call biblical authority into question. Thus there is still a need to teach and defend the truth that the Bible is the Word of God written.
Second, there is the fight for salvation through Christ alone. So-called post-conservative evangelicals are increasingly open to the idea that Jesus Christ is not the only way to salvation. He is a way but not the way. Meanwhile, some leaders in the so-called emerging church are de-emphasizing the blood atonement of Jesus Christ. Therefore, confessing evangelicals must continue to defend the truth Paul teaches in the very next chapter: “there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus” (1 Tim. 2:5).
Third, the good fight is for justification by grace through faith alone. The Bible teaches that sinners are declared righteous in the sight of God solely on the basis of the righteousness of Jesus Christ, imputed to them by faith. The 1990s witnessed several attempts to bring “Evangelicals and Catholics Together” over the doctrine of justification. These discussions put the evangelical church in danger of denying the biblical doctrine of justification. Where the evangelical-Catholic documents failed was in their understanding of the gospel itself. D. A. Carson, who participated in the dialogues, concludes that the Roman Catholic Church has not moved a single step closer to the biblical doctrine of justification. He writes: “the official teaching of the [Roman] church is that we are as far apart on this doctrine as Protestants and Catholics were at the time of Trent—notwithstanding the formal agreements that can be forged by handfuls of scholars from the two sides meeting in New York.”5
