作者: John MacArthur
譯者: Maria
Marta
大學期間，我在參加一次田徑比賽的過程中，學到一個重要的屬靈功課。在橙縣邀請賽中，我參加4X400米接力賽。作為一個兼職田徑賽的棒球球員，我不是我們隊中跑得最快的一個。所以我負責跑第二棒。
我們的戰略很簡單。第一個賽跑者是一個快速短跑運動員，在離開起跑區之後，他要盡最大可能取得領先優勢。我的職責只是幹凈利落而不掉棒地跑一圈。第三個賽跑者力度強，速度快，第四個賽跑者（與第三個賽跑者）區別不明顯。他們都可以彌補我可能拉開的距離。
那天有好幾支聲望高的球隊參賽，我們隊成功進入決賽。我們確信我們會大獲全勝。
我們的第一個隊友跑得非常出色，完美地遞交了接力棒。在這場爭取第一名的緊張競爭中，我竭力完成了我的一圈賽跑。第三個隊友繞過轉彎處，來到非終點直道半途，停下，走出跑圈，坐在草地上。比賽繼續進行著。
我們以為他拉傷腿筋或扭傷腳踝。我們穿過內場，預料他會倒在草地上，或至少會在痛苦中畏縮。但他卻不是這樣。他消極地坐著。我們焦急地問：「發生了什麽事？你受傷了嗎？」他回答：「不，我很好。我只是不想再跑了。」
我承認那一刻我所有的想法都是屬肉體的。我和隊友們都以一種無意識的失望的情緒回應，我們三個人基本上都在說相同的話：「你不能這樣做！在這裡你不是獨立的！你意識到為了目標我們在訓練中所付出的努力嗎？在你身上投入（時間、精力）得太多了！」
關於我們作為信徒的職責，我常常想到那一刻。我們應當接過我們的祖先在基督教信仰中傳遞給我們的真理，然後帶著它奔跑------不是沒有目標（林前九26），而是向著目標竭力追求（腓三14）---------好叫我們能將信仰完整無瑕疵地傳遞給下一代。
使徒保羅在他最後一封書信中將這責任交托給提摩太：「把你在許多見證人面前從我這裡聽見的，交託給那些又忠心又能夠教導別人的人。」（提後二2；《聖經新譯本》）在面對逼近眼前的殉難（四6），保羅當然關注在自己離開後，誰會繼續他的宣教工作和誰將帶領教會等這些問題。因此，他向提摩太概述這種繼承和穩定的簡單模式。
這項命令本身不僅針對提摩太，還針對他將培訓的更年輕的人。它為提升一代又一代的教會領袖制定戰略。保羅傳給提摩太的接力棒最終會傳給忠心的人，這些人再相應地把它傳給第四代人-------如此類推。
雖然這裡保羅主要關注的問題是領袖培訓，但他給提摩太的原則明顯地影響著每一個時代的每一個基督徒。我們都是生命鏈的一部分。我們每個人都受教於一些從別人身上學到真理的人。如果你沿著這條鏈反向追蹤，一環扣一環，可以追溯到原來的使徒，一直到基督自己。
為了成為忠心的管家，管理我們所領受的一切，我們每一個人務必要將我們所領教的傳遞給其他人。 換句話說，每一個基督徒都應當成為一個教師。不管你是誰，你都可以找到一個比你知道得更少的人，教導他們。 這個責任是我們的主基督的大使命本身所固有的，那就是：「使人作門徒」（太廿八19）。
希伯來書作者訓斥忽視這項責任的信徒：「你們應該已經作老師了；可是你們還需要有人再把 神道理的初步教導你們。」（來五12；《聖經新譯本》））。因為他們未能成為教師，因此他們需要從頭開始學習。難怪，你教的你記住了，你沒有教的，你往往忘記了。傳授你所學到的知識，不僅有助於要作門徒的人；而且還堅固教師本身。
保羅對提摩太的警惕性指責是有明確目標的。他沒有告訴提摩太要創新。他沒有鼓勵提摩太改變自己的風格以迎合世俗文化的潮流與時尚。他沒有使用諸如肉體、原創、富有想象力等詞語，這些言語膠水將如此多的二十世紀教會之增長戰略黏合在一起。
事實上，保羅賜給提摩太幾乎是相反的命令。這是一項明確，狹義的指令。提摩太務必要保守他所領受的真理寶庫（提前六20；提後一14），並將它不修改，不攙雜的傳給下一代。作一個有效的門徒陪育者，並不是作一個時尚者或創意者。它是指要忠心地維護「從前一次就全交給了聖徒的信仰」（猶3），並準確地把它到另一代。
這聽起來自相矛盾，但每一個基督徒都有個人的責任去維護信仰，並傳遞給其他人。這是對那些將會獲得獎賞的人的要求（林前九24；提後四7）。
打破這古舊鏈條的人就像一個在完成比賽之前就放棄比賽的接力賽跑者。這場比賽的關鍵所在比任何世上的戰利品都要重要得多。未能跑得好，跑得持久，是對上帝的不可原諒的侮辱；是對那些曾經教過我們的人的冒犯；使那些與我們一起訓練的人大失所望；是對那些我們必須遞交接力棒的人犯下的嚴重的罪。
本文原刊於Tabletalk雜誌2017年五月號 。
Passing Down the Truth of God
by John MacArthur
I learned a vital spiritual lesson
while participating in a track meet during my college years. I was running in
the 4x400-meter relay at the Orange County Invitational. As a baseball player
moonlighting in track and field, I wasn’t the fastest runner on our team. So, I
ran the second leg.
Our strategy was simple. The first
runner, a speedy sprinter, would get as big a lead as possible right out of the
starting blocks. My job was merely to run a clean lap without dropping the
baton. Our third man was strong and fast, and our fourth man was a blur. They
could make up the whatever ground I might lose.
Several prestigious teams were
competing that day, and our team managed to get into the finals. We were
convinced we had a good shot at winning.
Our first man ran a great leg and
made a perfect baton pass. I managed to finish my lap in a tight battle for
first place. The third man went around the curve, came halfway down the back
stretch, stopped, walked off, and sat down in the grass. The race kept going.
We thought he had pulled a hamstring
or twisted an ankle. We all ran across the infield, expecting to find him
writhing on the grass or at least wincing in pain. He wasn’t. He was sitting
passively. We anxiously asked, “What happened? Are you hurt?” He said, “No, I’m
OK. I just didn’t feel like running.”
I confess that all my thoughts in
that moment were carnal. My teammates and I spontaneously responded with an
outpouring of frustration, all three of us basically saying the same thing:
“You can’t do that! You’re not in this by yourself! Do you realize the effort
we have all put into training for this? Too much has been invested in you!”
I’ve thought often about that moment
in relation to our duty as believers. We are supposed to take the truth that
was handed to us by our ancestors in the Christian faith and run with it—not
aimlessly (1 Cor. 9:26), but always pressing on toward the goal (Phil. 3:14)—so
we can hand off the faith, intact and uncorrupted, to the next generation.
The Apostle Paul gave this charge to
Timothy in his final epistle: “What you have heard from me in the presence of
many witnesses entrust to faithful men who will be able to teach others also”
(2 Tim. 2:2). Paul was facing imminent martyrdom (4:6), and he was of course
concerned with the question of who would continue his missionary work and who
would lead the church after his departure. He therefore outlined for Timothy
this simple pattern of succession and stability.
The command itself looks beyond
Timothy to younger men whom he would train. It lays out a perpetual strategy
for raising up generation after generation of church leaders. The baton that
was passed from Paul to Timothy would ultimately be handed off to faithful men,
who in turn would pass it to a fourth generation—and so on.
Although Paul’s primary concern here
is leadership development, the principle he gives Timothy has clear
implications for every Christian in the every era. We are all part of a living
chain. Each of us has been taught by someone who learned the truth from someone
else. If you follow that chain backward, link by link, it goes back to the
original Apostles—and beyond them to Christ Himself.
In order to be faithful stewards of
what we have received, each of us needs to pass on to others what we have been
taught. In other words, every Christian ought to be a teacher. No matter who
you are, you can find someone who knows less than you and teach them. That
responsibility is inherent in our Lord’s Great Commission: “Make disciples”
(Matt. 28:19).
The writer to the Hebrews scolded
believers who were derelict in this duty: “Though by this time you ought to be
teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the
oracles of God” (5:12). Because of their failure to become teachers, they
needed to start learning from the beginning again. No wonder. What you teach
you retain, and what you don’t teach you tend to forget. Passing on what you
have learned not only helps the person who is being discipled; it also
strengthens the teacher.
Paul’s charge to Timothy is carefully
focused. He doesn’t tell Timothy to be innovative. He doesn’t encourage him to
adapt his style to the fads and fashions of secular culture. He doesn’t employ
words like fresh, original, or imaginative, the verbal glue that binds so many
twenty-first-century church-growth strategies together.
In fact, Paul gives Timothy
practically the opposite mandate. It is a clear, narrowly defined directive.
Timothy is to guard the deposit of truth he has received (1 Tim. 6:20; 2 Tim.
1:14) and pass it on, unmodified and unadulterated, to the next generation.
Being an effective disciple-maker is not about being chic or creative. It’s
about faithfully guarding “the faith that was once for all delivered to the
saints” (Jude 3) and accurately transmitting it to an other generation.
It sounds paradoxical, but each
Christian has a personal responsibility to keep the faith and to pass it on to
others. That’s what is required of those who would win the prize (1 Cor. 9:24;
2 Tim. 4:7).
Anyone who breaks that centuries-old
chain is like a relay runner who abandons the race before finishing. And what’s
at stake in this race is infinitely more important than any earthly trophy.
Failure to run well and with endurance would be an inexcusable insult to our
Lord, an offense against those who have taught us, a disappointment to those
who have trained alongside us, and a grievous sin against those to whom we must
hand the baton.
