Before Winter (5)

Three: Ephesus

Timothy rolled up the scroll again, and looked at the dusty, travel-worn man in front of him.

That morning he had reached his room just after sunrise, having been awake most of the night at Martha’s bedside, then staying to comfort and pray with her family after her death. He had snatched a quick bite of food, fallen into bed, and slept for hours. 

He woke up to the news that a messenger had just arrived with a letter from Paul. Not knowing how much this letter could change things, he washed quickly, impatient to hear news of his beloved friend. 

The beginning of the letter made him smile. He could hear the loving concern in Paul’s voice as he read the words. He knew he would read this over and over, using Paul’s wisdom to shape his decisions and actions. There was a change of tone toward the end, as Paul began explaining his circumstances, then the astonishing request that threw his thoughts into confusion. He hardly read the end of the letter.

For three hours now he had been sitting here, holding the parchment in his hands, reading a line here and there, then turning the question it posed over again in his mind. This could not go on forever, he knew. Already the light outside was almost gone, and he could no longer make out the words in front of him. Paul imprisoned again? His heart sank at the thought.

Across from him, Tychicus shifted in his chair. “Paul is anxious for you to come as soon as possible.”

“My people need me here, Tychicus.” Timothy stood up and strode across the room to the doorway. “How can I leave Ephesus now, when the church is growing, but vulnerable? And who could I put in charge?” He rubbed his hand through his short, black hair in frustration. “My elders are capable, but none have the time and energy to devote themselves to full-time ministry.”

“The decision is yours,” Tychicus began, “But Paul’s suggestion was that I should take over here during your journey.”

“If Paul wants me to come to Rome, if he needs me…” Timothy’s voice trailed off, and he stared out at the streets of Ephesus, his home for almost ten years. Once before he had planned to leave, to travel back to Lystra, see his mother, and strengthen the church there. Paul had urged him to stay, to keep the believers at Ephesus following the doctrine of the apostles. Was the church more stable now?

“He is certain that he will be killed within the year.” Tychicus’s voice was blunt, almost harsh, and Timothy turned to face him, startled. Tychicus shook his head. “I’ve never seen him like this before. He is old, Timothy. He needs you. Please, go to him. I saw how he looked while he was speaking these words to you, as I wrote them down—you are a beloved son to him.”

“I know. I will not fail him.” Timothy frowned at the floor. “I am still worried about my church, though. Will the Jewish Christians trust a Greek pastor?”

“Your elders will respect me, since I come from Paul. Their trust I will have to earn.” 

“Yes, you are right, you…” Timothy broke off, suddenly becoming aware of the weary state of his guest. “I have been a negligent host!” He exclaimed, “You have been sitting here, letting me complain about my situation, and I have not offered you water to wash or food…I apologize my brother. I have let my hesitation get the better of me. Please, break your fast with me? I have not eaten since early this morning. Come, come—we will talk about the church here while we eat.”

He led Tychicus to the washing room, calling to his servant to prepare food as soon as possible.

As the meal came to an end, Tychicus, now wearing a clean tunic and a cloak of Timothy’s that was too small for him, pushed his seat back from the table. “I thank you for the dinner, Timothy. Now that I have eaten, I realize how tired I really am. If you have a cot I could rest on, I would be grateful.”

Timothy nodded. “Of course. I will take you to the house of Demetrius—it is not very far, and he has a room for traveling brethren. Tomorrow we will go visit the other elders. On the first of the week, we all meet at Simon’s house, as I told you, and I will tell the whole congregation of Paul’s imprisonment, and my plan to go visit him.”

It was dark when they reached Demetrius’s door, but at Timothy’s knock, they were welcomed. 

“Our brother Tychicus comes from Paul, and needs lodging for the night.” Timothy explained. “I would have offered him my floor, but I thought he would appreciate your guest room more, so I brought him here.” 

Shaking Tychicus’s hand and bidding Demetrius farewell, Timothy walked back through the night to his own house, to read some parts of Paul’s letter again, which he had been too distressed to take note of earlier.