The Believer's Triumphant Walk
(1) The reality of discouragement in the life of the believer
Troas was a coastal city in the northern part of the province of Asia. Paul went there after the riot in Ephesus (Ac 19:23–41) on his way to Macedonia (Ac 20:1–2). Titus is not mentioned in Acts. He was Paul’s proof that Gentiles could be converted without works of the law such as circumcision (Gl 2:3). That Paul (the Jew) called both Timothy and Titus brother (1:1) shows that his primary identity was as a Christian rather than as a Jew. Titus was effective as Paul’s ambassador in dealing with the Corinthian crisis. Later he represented the apostle to Christians in Crete (Ti 1:4).
Paul’s spirit was not at rest, a reference to his inward anxiety over the welfare of Titus and the church in Corinth
Thus Paul had no peace of mind (anesin tō pneumati, lit., “relief in spirit”
The word translated peace in the NIV refers not so much to “rest” (KJV, NKJ, RSV, NRSV) as to “relief” (REB, NEB) or “relaxation.” The NIV of mind is, literally, “in my spirit”—the seat of human emotion and sensation (Plummer 1915:65). The JB “I was continually uneasy in mind” and TEV “I was deeply worried” catch the sense quite well.
(1) The reality of discouragement in the life of the believer
(2) The reassurance of the believer’s triumphant walk with Christ
PAUL begins by telling how his anxiety to know what was happening in Corinth made him so restless that he could not stay in Troas, even though it was a place full of promise for his work. In his anxious state, he went off to meet Titus, who had not yet arrived. Then comes his shout of triumph to God, who brought all things to a happy ending.
Verses 14–16 are difficult to understand by themselves; but, when set against the background which was in Paul’s thoughts, they become a vivid picture. Paul speaks of being led in the train of the triumph of Christ; and then he goes on to speak of being the sweet scent of Christ to men and women, to some the perfume of death and to others the perfume of life.
In his mind is the picture of a Roman Triumph and of Christ as a universal conqueror. The highest honour which could be given to a victorious Roman general was a Triumph. To attain it, he must satisfy certain conditions. He must have been the actual commander-in-chief in the field. The campaign must have been completely finished, the region pacified and the victorious troops brought home. Of the enemy, at least 5,000 must have fallen in one engagement. A positive extension of territory must have been gained, and not merely a disaster avoided or an attack repelled. And the victory must have been won over a foreign enemy and not in a civil war.
In a Triumph, the procession of the victorious general marched through the streets of Rome to the Capitol in the following order. First came the state officials and the senate. Then came the trumpeters. Behind them came those carrying the spoils taken from the conquered land. For instance, when Titus conquered Jerusalem, the seven-branched candlestick, the golden table of the shewbread and the golden trumpets were carried through the streets of Rome. Then came pictures of the conquered land and models of conquered citadels and ships, followed by the white bull for the sacrifice which would be made. Walking behind all these were the captive princes, leaders and generals in chains, who were shortly to be flung into prison and in all probability almost immediately to be executed. Then came the officers who attended the magistrates, the lictors bearing their rods, followed by the musicians with their lyres; then the priests swinging their censers with the sweet-smelling incense burning in them. After that came the general himself. He stood in a chariot drawn by four horses. He was dressed in a purple tunic embroidered with golden palm leaves, and over it a purple toga marked out with golden stars. In his hand, he held an ivory sceptre topped with the Roman eagle, and over his head a slave held the crown of Jupiter. After him rode his family, and finally came the army wearing all their decorations and shouting Io triumphe!, their cry of triumph. As the procession moved through the streets, all decorated and garlanded, surrounded by the cheering crowds, it made a tremendous day which might happen only once in a lifetime.
That is the picture that is in Paul’s mind. He sees Christ marching in triumph throughout the world, and himself in that conquering procession. It is a triumph which, Paul is certain, nothing can stop.
We have seen how, in that procession, there were the priests swinging the incense-filled censers. To the victors, the perfume from the censers would be the perfume of joy and triumph and life; but, to the wretched captives who walked just a short distance ahead, it was the perfume of death, standing for the past defeat and their coming execution. So, Paul thinks of himself and his fellow apostles preaching the gospel of the triumphant Christ. To those who will accept it, it is the perfume of life, as it was to the victors; to those who refuse it, it is the perfume of death, as it was to the vanquished.
Of one thing Paul was certain: nothing in all the world could defeat Christ. He lived not in pessimistic fear, but in the glorious optimism which knew the unconquerable majesty of Christ.
Then once more comes the unhappy echo. There were those who said that he was not fit to preach Christ. There were those who said even worse things—that he was using the gospel as an excuse to line his own pockets. Again, Paul uses the word eilikrineia for purity. His motives will stand the penetrating rays of the sun; his message is from God, it will stand the very scrutiny of Christ himself. Paul never feared what others might say, because his conscience told him that he had the approval of God and the ‘Well done!’ of Christ.
