Living on the Cusp of Eternity: Finding Purpose in the Final Words

There's something profoundly sobering about last words. When someone stands at the threshold between this life and the next, their words carry a weight that demands our attention. In 2 Timothy chapter 4, we encounter such a moment—the apostle Paul, imprisoned in Rome, knowing his execution is imminent, writing what would be his final letter to his young protégé Timothy.

Paul wasn't just offering casual advice. He was standing on the edge of eternity, death's footsteps echoing down the hallway toward his cell. Within months, perhaps weeks, Roman soldiers would lead him out to his execution. Yet in these final moments, Paul's words ring not with despair but with urgent clarity about what truly matters.

The Thin Line Between Departing and Appearing

Paul opens with a charge that places Timothy—and us—squarely in the presence of God and Christ Jesus, "who is to judge the living and the dead." He speaks of his own departure in the same breath as Christ's appearing, pressing upon us a startling reality: the line between our death and Christ's return is remarkably thin.

Consider this exercise: If you knew with certainty that you would die in exactly one month, how would it change the way you prayed? How would it transform your pursuit of holiness, your Bible reading, your church attendance? Would you suddenly find yourself more serious about spiritual matters?

Now consider Christ's own final words in Revelation: "Surely I am coming soon."

Does that promise carry the same weight? For many of us, our impending departure feels more real than His imminent appearing. Yet Paul challenges this thinking. We are all living on the cusp of eternity—every breath, every moment. Whether we depart to meet Him or He appears to meet us, the reality is the same: we will soon stand face to face with the righteous judge.

The Danger of Wandering into Myths

Paul warns Timothy of a dangerous trap that Satan sets for believers who lose sight of eternity. "The time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears, they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths."

This isn't a warning about what happens "out there" in the world. It's a warning about what can happen right here, in our own hearts, if we're not vigilant.

The pattern is predictable: When eternity feels distant, we become engrossed with the temporary. Our passions and emotions begin to rule us instead of truth. We seek teachers who will tell us what we want to hear, who will scratch our itching ears.

And we wander into myths.

A myth isn't a fairy tale—it's a lie pretending to be truth. It's something we want to believe so badly that we convince ourselves it's true, even though deep down we know better. These myths swirl around us constantly: "Life is too short to be unhappy." "Love is love." "Nobody can judge me." "God doesn't want me to be unhappy." "I deserve this." "If God loved me, this wouldn't be happening."

These myths always reduce to one simple principle: they're ways we justify loving our sin.

The Antidote: Preaching and Living the Word

Paul's solution is beautifully simple yet profoundly challenging. To Timothy, the pastor: "Preach the word. Be ready in season and out of season. Reprove, rebuke, and exhort with complete patience and teaching."

To all believers: "Always be sober-minded. Endure suffering. Do the work of an evangelist. Fulfill your ministry."

The Word of God is sufficient to keep us faithful to the end. Not sometimes—all the time. In every season of life, through every circumstance, Scripture is what we need. It reproves us, showing us our sins. It rebukes us, warning us where following the world will lead. It exhorts us to press on. And it does all this with patient teaching.

This doesn't mean we shouldn't read other books or use other helps. But what happens when God's Word is opened and proclaimed is indispensable. Everything else is expendable. Don't let yourself believe the myth that preaching and the Word aren't helping you or won't help you.

Suffering as Ministry

One of the most counter-cultural truths Paul presents is that suffering itself is a ministry. When he tells Timothy to "endure suffering," he's not calling for stoicism—gritting your teeth and bearing it. He's calling us to show the world that our hope is not in this temporary life, that we will not give up our eternal hope even in the deepest sorrows.

When we cling to Christ in our pain, God's glory ignites all around us. We shame Satan. We demonstrate to the watching world how true the truth we proclaim really is. And people will ask, "What is this reason for the hope in you that keeps you going?"

Your suffering is no accident. It's not meaningless. It's part of the specific ministry God has given you.

Fighting, Finishing, Keeping

Paul concludes with words that should be every Christian's goal: "I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race. I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me, but also to all who have loved his appearing."

Notice that beautiful phrase: "all who have loved his appearing."

Loving Christ's appearing is the pinnacle of all Christian thought. It's the end of all good theology. If you know a righteous judge is coming and that you're a sinner who deserves justice, you can only love His appearing if you're rock-solid confident that He is for you—that someone has paid your debt, that He has given you righteousness you didn't have.
The wonderful truth is that this judge paid the penalty Himself and gave you His own righteousness. All you must do is believe in Him.

When He comes, He will set all things right. He will vindicate those who believed in Him. We will know then, as we know now, that our hope is not in vain. Our perseverance through pain was worth it. Our gospel about Christ crucified and raised from the dead was and is true.

We stand today where Timothy stood—between Paul's departure and Christ's appearing. The same urgency applies to us. The same hope sustains us. The same Word guides us.
The question is: Will we live like it? Will we love His appearing? Will we keep the faith to the end?

The goal is simple, even if the path is hard: to fight well, to finish well, to keep the faith all the way to the end, and to be welcomed by Jesus on that last day with the crown of righteousness.

Live today on the cusp of eternity. Because that's exactly where you are.