What Does it Mean to 'Fight the Good Fight'?
“Fight the good fight of the faith” (1 Tim 6:12).
As I read this verse and its accompanying passage this morning, it got me thinking about a conversation I shared with my friend Sean just yesterday after we had finished a run in the Texas heat. In the typical Davidic and Seanine fashion, our conversation turned to theology, and we had a good discussion about how quick we (we being the modern, American church) are to water down the gospel, sugar-coat Scripture, and lighten the commands of God given therein. Strong opinions, I know, but let me explain:
The Crux of Our Problem
The more I’ve studied Scripture and the more I’ve tried to read it through unadulterated eyes, the more and more I’ve become convicted by the stark reality that Scripture is calling Christians to a much more extreme life of a devotion than we typically speak about, something far more demanding than giving God an hour on Sunday and Wednesday nights. I think that the average Christian understands that they ought to devote more to God than just these things, but I think that even from our pulpits we do a poor job of demonstrating exactly how extreme this lifestyle is. When we hear “fight the good fight,” I think we have in mind something much less extreme and much more watered-down than what Paul had when he first penned those words by the inspiration of the Spirit.
Perhaps it is because we are too familiar with the text and we have deafened our ears, blinded our eyes, and hardened our hearts to its message, failing to grasp the severity of it all.
Perhaps our information, material, and possession-driven culture has infused us with a constant state of ingratitude, where we are constantly seeking more yet rarely reflecting on what we have already received, and so rarely take the time to reflect on the necessary overflow of gratitude for what Christ has accomplished.
Perhaps through our luxurious, decadent lifestyles, we have forgotten the blood that penned each word, the hardship and steadfastness and extreme resolve required by the fathers of our faith, for whom belief cost their very lives.
Perhaps our faith is not as genuine as we think it is, because we do not view God as real as He really is, and so do not respond to salvation in such a manner as it fitting of one who has truly been saved.
I’m not sure the reason for our apathy and lethargy—I’m sure it is a combination of all these reasons plus a million more—but one of the negative consequences (of which there are many) is that we fail to be impressed by the text of Scripture and awed by the calling to which God has called us.
The Weight of Our Calling
Sean posed the question, “Is there a single man who truly grasps the weight of what we have in Christ? What Jesus Christ has done? The severity, urgency, and dire implications thereof?” I think the apostles did, but I’m not sure if there are any today. In places where Christians are being persecuted, I think there is a fairer chance of finding such a person, but if anyone shall ever understand Christ’s victory and the implications thereof as thoroughly and as truly as did the apostles, I do not know. (But if such a man there may be, God how I desire to be that man!)
The apostles rejoiced to suffer for You, O Christ—yes, they rejoiced in it—for they knew how truly You had suffered for them—for us—and they encouraged others to do the same. Is that not what Paul is doing here? “Fight the good fight of the faith,” he says to Timothy. “Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and about which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses” (v.12). You started off well, he is saying to the boy, Now press on and finish strong. In a world corrupted by evil and in a church corrupted by different doctrines (v.3) and arrogance and ignorance and quarrels and controversy and envy and dissension and slander and evil suspicions (v.4) and friction and depravity and falsehood and greed (v.5, 9-10), Paul tells Timothy to fight for what is right, to “Pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, gentleness” (v.11). And a fight it will be indeed! Righteousness and godliness and faith and love and steadfastness and gentleness are hard enough to achieve in isolation—indeed, they cannot be achieved in isolation—but how much harder is it to achieve them in a world and in a church that is so quick to exchange righteousness for wickedness, godliness for worldliness, faith for self-dependence and independence, love for lust and infatuation, steadfastness for impulsiveness and infidelity, gentleness for brutality and insincerity?
This is a difficult fight indeed, but Paul tells Timothy to fight it nonetheless, and I think Scripture demands the same of us.
The State of Our Fight
If I were to examine the majority of modern Christians (myself included), I think I would see that the majority of us presume we are giving more to God than we truly are. Yet if you zoom out and look at us as a whole, can it be said that we are even fighting at all? If a boxer is knocked out in the first punch of a ten-round bout, will he be praised for having not been killed? No, and he will certainly not be said to have fought a good fight. Yet that is exactly the state of the modern Christian: We pat ourselves on the back and say we are ‘fighting the good fight’ when we attend church twice a week or read our Bible for an hour each morning, yet when is the last time I truly denied myself something for the sake of the cross? When is the last time I truly spread the news of Christ? When is the last time I truly chose to seek out God’s will rather than trying to justify my own through the self-righteous guise of spirituality?
There are men laying down their lives to spread Christ, yet here we think we are ‘fighting the good fight’ while being afraid to talk of Christ to our co-workers or friends or family despite a notable lack of any threat of genuine, long-lasting consequences or repercussions.
Imagine a man who wakes up every morning and lives his entire life poured out for Christ—every breath breathed for Christ, every thought thought for Christ, every action performed for Christ. Do you know what Paul calls this? Nothing more than an “acceptable” form a worship (Rom 12:2). Here I have described the most devoted human being on the face of the planet, yet Paul calls his worship acceptable. Not remarkable, not spectacular, just acceptable. It is merely acceptable because such a radical and extreme life of absolute surrender is what God already deserves from us. Prosperity preachers love saying that “You can’t outgive God,” and in a way they are right, though I would argue that the greatest gift is not through the potential of future monetary gain, but rather through what we have already received in Christ Jesus: Not even the most extreme life of sacrificial devotion could come close to comparing to the gift Christ has already given through the cross. Given all He has done for us, the least we can do is give Him our everything.
The Danger of Paul’s Instruction
Make no mistake, when Paul is inviting Timothy to ‘fight the good fight,’ he is brutally aware of what he is asking. Paul knew what could happen to those who attempted to fight such a fight (if you don’t believe me, check out 2 Co 11:22-29), yet still he told Timothy, his “true child in the faith” (1:2), to do it. At tempted as we might be by our watered-down gospel and sugar-coated lens of Bible interpretation, the context of the passage and what we know about the early church and the life of Paul make it so that Paul’s instructions to Timothy can’t be taken lightly. Every time Paul encourages someone to pursue Christ—which is all he is ever doing in his epistles—we must recognize that this was an invitation to martyrdom, his invitation to be willing to die for the cross.
Nowadays, we ate always worried about safety. Every time Paul told someone to submit to Christ and pursue Him more, he was beckoning them toward danger.
He knew what following Christ could cost, for he himself would pay that price. Nevertheless, he thought it was worth it, and he beckoned others to do the same.
I wonder, do we share His same conviction? My prayer this morning is that we all take a few moments in silent reflection to try and truly grasp what is means to fight the good fight. And then let’s go fight it.