DEMAS
Col. 4:12-14; Philemon 23-24; 2 Tim. 1:5-8
As we have been following our
course of articles, watching the great Physician at His work, we have seen some
cases in which His healing power was frustrated by certain conditions and
attitudes of human life.
In the case of Demas the
possibility of relapse after healing by the great Physician is revealed. His
name is three times mentioned by Paul and in each case when Paul made the
reference to him, he, that is, Paul, was in prison. In the first imprisonment,
that during which he wrote his letters to the Colossians, the Ephesians, the
Philippians, and Philemon, Demas is seen as one of a faithful group, joining
with them and with Paul in the greeting which was sent to the Colossian Church.
Moreover, Paul speaks of him at that period as he wrote to Philemon, as "a fellow worker."
In his second imprisonment from
which he wrote this letter to Timothy, the last letter from his pen that has
been preserved for us, Demas is once more referred to, but as having forsaken
Paul and gone to Thessalonica. The reason for his defection is clearly stated:
"Demas forsook me, having loved this
present age, and went to Thessalonica."
It is with that account of relapse
that we are now concerned. Let us keep in mind—and I want to emphasize this at
the very beginning of our study—that of the ultimate history of Demas we have
no record. We have no right to say that Demas was ultimately an apostate. It
may be true, but to repeat what I have said, we have no knowledge of the
matter. That he had been definitely committed to Christ his association with
Paul clearly proves, for he was with him during the period of his first
imprisonment in Rome, and as Paul referred to him as one among his
fellow-workers, there can be no doubt that he was one whom Christ had met and
had healed. Somewhere he had come into contact with the great Physician. We
have no means of knowing where. We are not even told his citizenship. The
probability is that Christ had reached him through Paul. He had been
spiritually healed, and received the gift of life.
Our account, then, is not that of a
final apostasy, but it is that of a definite relapse. The whole account of this
relapse is contained in the paragraph at the end of this second letter of Paul
to Timothy, written at a time when Paul was evidently conscious that
everything, on the human level, was closing in around him, and the end was
near. His first trial was over, and the second was anticipated. In the Roman legal
system the second trial was not for investigation, but for the pronouncement of
sentence. Paul knew what that sentence was going to be. In the account there
are human touches full of revelation. He felt the cold, and charged Timothy to
bring his coat with him. He was evidently, however, mentally alert, for he told
Timothy to bring the books with him. That alertness was principally concerned
with spiritual things as his words, "especially
the parchments" prove. There is a touch of deep tenderness in his
reference to his loneliness. A little group had been with him, but they had all
gone, some of them on the Master's business. Crescens had passed on into
Galatia. Titus had gone to Dalmatia, and Tychicus had been sent elsewhere. He
was not absolutely alone, however, as the sentence so full of meaning reveals, "Only Luke is with me." It was
in that connection that he referred to one whom he had numbered among his
fellow-workers, who had shared in his sufferings and in his service, but of
whom he now had to write:
"Demas forsook me, having loved this
present age, and went to Thessalonica."
This article, therefore, has in
some senses a very special message to those who are followers of the Lord. The
possibility of having met the great Physician, of having been brought into
living contact with Him, having received from Him the healing of our sin-sick
souls, and yet of a relapse, of a going back, of a forsaking of the Lord.
When we take the account as told in
that simple sentence by Paul there are three things which are self-evident. The
first is that of the alluring forces which had led him astray. They were those
of "this present age." We
then see the soul of Demas yielding and assenting to the appeal of those forces
until, by a decisive act, he chose them, "having
loved." Finally, therefore, we have the record of the act, "Demas forsook me." Although
we are going to attempt to examine all this carefully, it may be well to
briefly epitomize the account once more. Demas had left Paul and gone to
Thessalonica. Why? Because the alluring forces of the present age had proved
too strong for him. We then ask, why did they prove too strong for him? Paul says
the reason was that he had "loved"
them. That needs fuller interpretation, to which we are coming back.
What, then, were the forces that
lured Demas? And here it is really important that we should correct a possible
misapprehension of the account as it is revealed in an oft-times mis-quotation
thereof. Again and again I have heard the account quoted thus, Demas forsook
me, having loved this present evil world. Now Paul did not write that, and
there are two things that it is important that we remember. The first is that
the word "evil" is not in
the statement, and the second is that the word "world" should be rendered "age." If by the use of the word "world" we are led to think of the cosmos on its material
side, this is not what proved the alluring force. It was rather the age, and
that sounds so harmless, and I think accounts for the popular misquotation.
Somewhere, at some point, perhaps a perfectly sincere soul felt that the account
needed the introduction of a word revealing the wrong of it all, and so
employed the word evil.
What was it, then, that Paul
referred to? The present age, that is, the zeitgeist,
the time spirit, the spirit that dominated the age. The phrase of the apostle
apparently so innocuous and harmless is in fact an arresting revelation of the
reason why so often in Christian life there is relapse. There is something in
the time spirit which makes its appeal, and Demas had felt this. He had felt
the enticement of its nearness, the enticement of its method, and the
enticement of its gifts.
We remind ourselves again that this
man had been with Paul in Rome, and there had seen the age in which he was
living. He had travelled with Paul almost certainly for a time. In Rome,
however, he was in a great city, pulsing and palpitating with its own
conceptions and consequent conduct. As Demas observed all this, he felt the
enticement of the seen as against the unseen, the tangible as against the
intangible, the sensual as against the spiritual, the present as against the
future.
In this same letter, just before
referring to the case of Demas, Paul had said:
"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have
kept the faith; henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness,
which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give to me at that day; and not only
to me, but also to all them that have loved His appearing."
Mark the contrast. Paul and those
associated with him, and all the followers of Christ were living in the power
and passion of the unseen. To them the goal of everything was the appearing of
Jesus. They were those who loved that appearing. As a matter of fact there was
hardly a beam of light upon the sky in those days which suggested the ultimate
victory and appearing of Christ. But these men knew its inevitability, and were
sustained by their love of it. Demas had been among their number, but had
failed. All around him were the near things, and these were so real, while the
unseen were vague. The things occupying the mind of the age were such as could
be touched and handled. The things occupying the thought, and creating the
inspiration of Paul and those with him could neither be touched nor handled.
The near things appealed to sensibility, that is, to the sensuous nature. The
other things were spiritual. The things of the age were near. The things which
Paul loved appeared to be far in the future. Demas felt the enticement of the
near things, the seen, the tangible, and the sensual, the present.
Moreover, he had seen the method of
the age in which he lived, and we see it by placing it in contrast with the
method of the followers of Christ. The method of the age was that of
self-gratification, rather than self-sacrifice, mastery over others instead of
service rendered to others, possession here and now instead of the constant
necessity for renunciation. These things of the spiritual world were those
which Paul had taught, and by which men and women associated with him in
loyalty to Christ, were living. Self-denial, self-emptying, self-sacrifice
constituted the very heart and soul of Christian experience. Looking round
about him Demas saw the contrast. The way of the age was not that of
self-sacrifice, but that of self-gratification. It was that of compelling
service, rather than that of impelling sacrifice. That was the spirit of the
Roman Empire. It still is the spirit of the age. Demas felt the enticement of
these methods.
It follows, therefore, necessarily
that he was allured by what the present age offered him, wealth, pleasure,
liberty, as freedom from all restriction. It was in that atmosphere that Demas
had lived.
The question arises as to whether
it is necessary to yield to such allurement. The reason is that Demas had done
so, and evidently there came a moment when he came to definite decision in the
presence of the contrast. This is revealed in Paul's pregnant phrase, "having loved."
It is a remarkable thing that at
this point Paul used the highest and most noble word for love. It is a word
that describes love not merely as an emotional attraction, but rather as an
intellectual, informed decision. Moreover, it was a definite act. Demas did not
come to it at once. No man ever does. He had listened to the voices sounding
round him, telling him of the apparent liberty of the age, speaking to him of
the foolishness of self-sacrifice and self-denial. Having listened to these
voices, at last he came to a decision. He fixed his love and affection upon the
present age.
In this connection we notice that
Paul merely states the fact, and we may ask, quite properly, how it came to pass
that Dernas thus succumbed; and a reference to the writings of Peter will help
us to find an answer to the question.
"For
this very cause adding on your part all diligence, in your faith supply virtue;
and in your virtue knowledge; and in your knowledge temperance; and in your
temperance patience; and in your patience godliness; and in your godliness love
of the brethren; and in your love of the brethren.” Love -
That is unquestionably one of the greatest passages in the
New Testament in its unveiling of the development of Christian life.
It begins with faith. It ends with
love. Love is the full-orbed result of faith, but there is a process of
development from faith to love, and this is what Peter is pointing out in his
teaching. The passage may really be likened to a description of the growth and
opening out of all the life forces obtained in faith, until the ultimate
fruitage is reached in love. In an aside we may say that if this be carefully
pondered we may turn from it to Paul's great passage on "the fruit of the Spirit is love," with its analysis of love,
which immediately follows. Now we have turned to this teaching in Peter, note
that he said immediately afterwards:
"If these things are yours, and abound, they make you to be not
idle nor unfruitful unto the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. For he that
lacketh these things is blind, seeing only what is near."
Thus we have revealed the
inwardness of the account of the deflection of Demas. The hour had come when he
saw only what was near, and the reason was that, in the past, he had neglected
to give diligence for the development of his Christian life from its root of
faith to its ultimate fruitage of love.
Arrested development always means
deterioration. We have met Him, the great Physician. He has healed our sin-sick
souls. Then our duty is that of giving diligence to the cultivation of the life
resulting from faith until it reaches its ultimate fruitage. If we fail to do
that, the result is inevitably that of arrested development, which ever means
deterioration.
It is self-evident, then, that the
final assent of the soul marked by the expression, "having loved," followed a period in which Demas had been
making his comparisons between the near and the far, between the sensual and
spiritual, between the advantages of the immediate, and the apparently
questionable nature of the ultimate. He had been considering and as he did so,
the distant became more distant. Prayer unquestionably became irksome. The Word
of God, and the teaching of the apostles became dull as the near became nearer,
more to be desired, and apparently, better; until at last he fastened his
affection upon the present age.
The next step was easy, though it
was tragic. Paul speaks of it from the personal standpoint as he says, he "forsook me." Whether this
forsaking took place during Paul's first imprisonment, or during the interval
between the first and the second, we cannot tell. Enough to know that Paul was
now in prison for the second time and Demas was not with him. He had left Paul
and the experience of prison, and all the difficulties of Christian service. He
had departed from fellowship with those like-minded, from Luke who stayed by to
the end, as well as from Paul and from all the persecuted saints. He declined
their way of life. In thus forsaking Paul and that fellowship he forsook the
hope, the love of the appearing of Jesus. This means that he left his Lord.
When a man has taken up that
position, and come to that decision, what will he do, where will he go? Of
Demas it is written, he went to Thessalonica. Thessalonica was then one of the
great cities in the empire. It stood on a hill of beauty, sloping to the sea.
It was guarded by mountains on both sides. It was a great commercial center. It
was a city of wealth, of luxury, of pleasure, of idolatry. It was the
embodiment of the age. Thessalonica is always near at hand for Demas. When he
turned his back upon the love of the appearing of Jesus he found himself in a
city thus embodying the conceptions and conduct of the age. There we leave the account
of the relapse.
It is self-evident that this account
makes its appeal to those who have been with Jesus, have had fellowship with
His followers, have been workers together with Him; and it compels the asking
of certain questions with regard to our own position. These questions may be
personal. Where are we now? Are we with Paul, like Luke still standing by,
still helping? Then let us see to it that we give diligence to add to our faith
all those things that mark its true development, and come at last to the
perfect fruitage of love. Do not let us rest satisfied with our present
position.
Or are we perhaps even now making a
comparison? Has the age been forcing itself upon our attention, this present
age? Do we feel the lure of the near, and the apparent advantages of the
methods of the age? Perhaps we have not yet come to a definite decision. We
have not yet parted company with Paul or Christ, but we are making the
comparison. Let us bear in mind, then, that if we are inclined to the decision
of Demas, faith is against us, history is against us, science is against us.
That faith is against us goes
without argument. It is equally true that history is against us. All those
things that have been wrought by men and women down the ages that have been of
real value to the world, have been accomplished by those who have believed in
the unseen, those who have endured, as seeing Him Who is invisible. It is equally
true that science is against us. Science teaches all the things contrary to
faith in God and the Word He has left us. Science today works diligently to
deny the history and accounts of Genesis by definitely denying the ultimate
reality of the mystery that lies behind phenomena we witness and uncover, the
reality of the unseen God. Science today is a partner with the thoughts of
Satan.
Or have we already made our choice
in favor of the present age, and find ourselves in Thessalonica? Have we broken
with our Lord? Have we forsaken Paul, leaving the company and the fellowship?
If so, the question that forces itself upon us is, are we at rest? Are the near
things we are grasping satisfying us? Are there not haunting memories following
us? I am putting these things in the form of questions. They might be put in
the form of definite affirmations. Demas went to Thessalonica, but he did not
get what he went for. No man ever does.
As we close this meditation let us
at once say Demas might have come back. Perhaps he did. Eternal life he possesses is eternal so
eventually he will return. The certain thing is that when he did, he was
received and restored. That needs no argument.
It may be that someone will say, yes,
we believe it to be true that Christ would take us back, but would the group of
people whom we left, be willing to receive us? Well in that connection we may
say that Paul would. We have a remarkable illustration of that in this very
same letter. Writing to Timothy, he said:
"Take Mark, and bring him with thee; for he is useful to me for
ministering."
So far as Paul was concerned, Mark was a man who at some
point had gone back, with the result that Paul refused to have him associated
with him for the time being; but years had passed. Mark had gone on his way
with Barnabas, and now toward the end, evidently even from Paul's standpoint,
Mark having returned to his loyalty, Paul was eager to receive him. If maybe we
are inclined to make the comparison, let us make it beneath the Cross. If we do
so, we shall be compelled to exclaim:
"Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small.
Love so amazing, so Divine,
Demands my life, my soul, my all."
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