At my first defense no one supported me, but all deserted me; may it not be counted against them. – 2 Timothy 4:16

Paul – a disciple, teacher, pastor, evangelist and a friend, to the Jews and Gentiles alike. One who was willing to be cursed for the sake of his brethren (Romans 9:3). One who labored on without taking a cent among the Corinth believers – not wanting to hinder the Gospel (1 Corinthians 9:12). For all his countless labor and sacrifice of blood, sweat and tears. Around 64 A.D. at the time of Paul’s second Roman imprisonment in the aftermath of the Great fire of Rome. Much of this once majestic and bustling Rome and her districts lay desolate from this historic fire. And it seemed as if this desolation had followed Paul as he now stood in the Roman Praetorium facing his accusers. He knows his death is at hand (2 Timothy 4:6). Maybe his heart’s expectations which were molded by his many relationships, fellowships and friendships – made him skim the crowd around in vain for that one familiar face. Like the kid searching for his parents at the school play in hopeful expectancy. Searching for that feeling of hope, consolation and comfort found in a familiar presence in his darkest hour. To maybe hear those words of reassurance: “I stand with you, Paul” “I am praying for you, Paul,” “God is in control, Paul.” Yet this friend of many would find none as true as himself. This moment of time of arguably one of the greatest apostle to ever walk the face of this earth is best captured in this word – utterly forsaken. Maybe some would have made the case for themselves in saying: “Well I was praying in secret,” “How does one being there change anything?” Well if Christ’s compassion towards us would have been like that – we would have been the most hopeless of all creatures. Paul, the gracious man he was, held this not against any of them.

But the Lord stood with me and strengthened me, so that through me the proclamation might be fully accomplished, and that all the Gentiles might hear; and I was rescued out of the lion’s mouth. – 2 Timothy 4:17

And I imagine the questions Paul might have had running through his mind. “Not even one, Lord?,” “Not even him or her?” This courageous apostle was after all – a mere human. Like the ice under the hot sun, he found his strength melting away at the fear of abandonment. This is only a natural response in a person. It is how we are wired to be – as social beings. And then maybe the narration of Peter or of one of the other apostles to him on the events of Gethsemane came to mind. Jesus, the friend of sinners, abandoned that dark night in the olive grove. Left all alone with His captors and mockers. None to defend Him at His trial. None to speak up for His innocence. The crowds that once flocked around to hear Him, all dispersed. The crowds that once shouted: Hosanna to the Son of David (Matthew 21:9), now in blinded unison demanding his death. And there on that cross just past the day’s second watch, as darkness covered the land. And there Jesus would cry: “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”) (Matthew 27:46). Heaven’s dearest and earth’s preciousest left all alone. The Light of the world in darkness surrounded. Jesus would be the only man to walk this dreaded path of complete forsakenness, that none would ever have to tread its path again. And Paul then would understand in that very moment, standing alone together facing Roman justice. Of a moment of joyous epiphany he would reminisce: But the Lord stood with me and strengthened me. He would have realized that on the road to Damascus all those years back, though a physical company accompanied and surrounded him. He was more alone then, than he was right now.

Bible historians place 2 Timothy as one of Paul’s very last epistles before his eventual martyrdom at the hands of the Romans. Which would mean these words would have been one of the very last recordings of Paul. And to this man who through most his life, would have been surrounded with other believers who loved, adored, and cared for him. Maybe this was God’s final and parting lesson – the fickleness of human relationships (even of one’s own family and believers!). And maybe the pessimist mind would see the tragedy in this and despair. But Paul instead would see the beauty that this would reveal to him – the steadfastness of God.

“I will never desert you, nor will I ever forsake you” – Hebrews 13:5