John Chrysostom
Often, when I took the Apostle's Epistle in hand and considered this place, I was perplexed. Why does Paul so exalt himself: "I have fought the good fight"? But now, it seems, by the grace of God, I have understood it.
Why does he speak so? He wishes to console his grieving disciple and commands him to be of good courage. He is departing to the crown, as one who has accomplished all things and reached a good end. One ought to rejoice, he says, and not grieve.
Why? "I have fought the good fight." He speaks like a father consoling his son, who sits beside him and laments his orphanhood. The father would say: Do not weep, my son. I have lived well.
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I leave you, having reached old age. My life has been blameless. I depart with glory, and you will be glorified by my deeds. The king shows me great favor.
It is as though he says: I have set up trophies and conquered enemies. He does not say this from vainglory, no, but to encourage his son.
By such praises he teaches him to bear everything that happens easily, to have good hope, and not to regard the coming separation as burdensome.
Separation is burdensome, truly burdensome. Listen to how he himself speaks elsewhere: "But we, brethren, having been taken away from you for a short time in face, not in heart" (1 Thess 2:17).
If he himself grieved when separated from his disciples, how much must Timothy have grieved? If Timothy wept when parting from a living teacher, as is clear from the words, "remembering your tears, that I may be filled with joy" (2 Tim 1:4), how much more at his death?
Thus Paul wrote this for Timothy's consolation. The whole Epistle is filled with consolation and is a kind of testament.
"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race," so that he says, "the good fight." Take it upon yourself as well. Chains, prisons, death, is this the good fight?
Yes, he says, because it is done for Christ and brings great crowns. "The good fight": there is nothing better than this struggle. This crown has no end. It is not made of laurel leaves.
Here no man is the director of the contests, and men are not the spectators. Angels fill this spectacle.
There, in ordinary spectacles, men labor and grow weary for many days, but receive the crown in one moment, and the pleasure at once passes away. Here it is not so. They remain forever in splendor, glory, and honor.
Therefore one ought to rejoice. I go to rest. I leave the place of struggles. You have heard from me that it is better "to depart and be with Christ" (Phil 1:23).
"I have finished the race." One must both struggle and go forward. One struggles by enduring sorrows, and goes forward not simply, but toward something useful.
The truly good struggle is the one that does not merely delight the spectator, but brings benefit. The true race is not the one that aims at nothing, or merely displays strength and ambition, but the one that draws all to heaven.
Such a race is brighter than the sun. Paul completed it on earth, or by it he hastened toward heaven.
How did he finish this race? He went around the whole world, beginning from Galilee and Arabia and reaching the ends of the earth. "Thus," he says, "from Jerusalem and round about as far as Illyricum, I have fully preached the gospel of Christ" (Rom 15:19).
He ran through the whole world like a bird, or rather, more strongly than a bird. A bird would simply fly through. He did not simply pass through, but had the wings of the Spirit.
He cut through thousands of obstacles, deaths, snares, and calamities. Thus he was swifter than a bird. If he had been merely a bird, he would have grown weary and been caught.
But being winged by the Spirit, he flew over all the nets as though he had wings of fire.
"I have kept the faith," he says. Many things tried to take it from him. These were not only close relations with men, but threats, mortal dangers, and many other things. Yet he stood firm against everything.
How? By being sober and watchful.