"When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, also the books, and especially the parchments" (2 Timothy 4:13).
A number of years ago I "did time" in the Mamertine Dungeon in Rome where Paul spent his last hours. It's a cold, dank place, cut out of solid rock with a small hole in the ceiling to admit light and air and through which prisoners were lowered.
I sat on the stone floor with my back against a wall, took out my little New Testament, and read through the book of 2 Timothy, imagining what Paul must have felt as he penned his last words.
In time I came upon the verse above, almost a throw-away line: "Bring the cloak, the books and especially the parchments."
It was winter. Paul wanted his woolen poncho; his beleaguered body ached in the bitter cold of his cell. He wanted his "books," most likely the classical works of that period. And he wanted his "parchments," the scriptures that he loved.
Paul knew that his days were numbered. (He escaped this imprisonment through death.) He had time on his hands while he waited. So he turned again to the books and scriptures that he loved and redeemed the time by growing.
What better thing can we do in sequester when we find ourselves at loose ends?
"This time, like all times, is a very good one, if we but know what to do with it," Emerson said.
David Roper
