'I, Tertius, who write the epistle, salute you in the
Lord.'--ROMANS xvi. 22 (R.V.).
One sometimes sees in old religious pictures, in some obscure corner,
a tiny kneeling figure, the portrait of the artist. So Tertius here
gets leave to hold the pen for a moment on his own account, and from
Corinth sends his greeting to his unknown brethren in Rome.
Apparently he was a stranger to them, and needed to introduce
himself. He is never heard of before or since. For one brief moment
he is visible, like a star of a low magnitude, shining out for a
moment between two banks of darkness and then swallowed up. Judging
by his name, he was probably a Roman, and possibly had some
connection with Italy, but clearly was a stranger to the Church in
Rome. We do not know whether he was a resident in Corinth, where he
wrote this epistle, or one of Paul's travelling companions. Probably
he was the former, as his name never recurs in any of Paul's letters.
One can understand the impulse which led him for one moment to come
out of obscurity and to take up personal relations with those who had
so long enjoyed his pen. He would fain float across the deep gulf of
alienation a thread of love which looked like gossamer, but has
proved to be stronger than centuries and revolutions.
This humble and modest greeting is an expression of a sentiment which
the world may smile at, but which, being 'in the Lord,' partakes of
immortality. No doubt the world's hate drove more closely together
all the disciples in primitive times; but the yearning of Tertius for
some little corner in the love of his Roman brethren might well
influence us to-day. There ought to be an effort of imagination going
out towards unknown brethren. Christian love is not meant to be kept
within the limits of sight and personal knowledge; it should overleap
the narrow bounds of the communities to which we belong, and
expatiate over the whole wide field. The great Shepherd has
prescribed for us the limits to the very edge of which our Christian
love should consciously go forth, and has rebuked the narrowness to
which we are prone, when He has said, 'Other sheep I have which are
not of this fold.' We are all too prone to let identities of opinion
and of polity, or even the accident of locality, set bounds to our
consciousness of brotherhood; and the example of this little gush of
affection, that reaches out a hand across the ocean and grasps the
hands of unknown partakers in the common life of the one Lord, may
well shame us out of our narrowness, and quicken us into a wide
perception and deepened feeling towards all who in every place call
up Jesus Christ as their Lord--'both their Lord and ours.'
Another lesson which we may learn from Tertius' characterisation of
himself is the dignity of subordinate work towards a great end. His
office as amanuensis was very humble, but it was quite as necessary
as Paul's inspired fervour. It is to him that we owe our possession
of the Epistle; it is to him that Paul owed it that he was able to
record in imperishable words the thoughts that welled up in his mind,
and would have been lost if Tertius had not been at his side. The
power generated in the boilers does its work through machines of
which each little cog-wheel is as indispensable as the great shafts.
Members of the body which seem to be 'more feeble, are necessary.'
Every note in a great concerted piece of music, and every instrument,
down to the triangle and the little drum in the great orchestra, is
necessary. This lesson of the dignity of subordinate work needs to be
laid to heart both by those who think themselves to be capable of
more important service, and by those who have to recognise that the
less honourable tasks are all for which they are fit. To the former
it may preach humility, the latter it may encourage. We are all very
ignorant of what is great and what is small in the matter of our
Christian service, and we have sometimes to look very closely and to
clear away a great many vulgar misconceptions before we can
clearly discriminate between mites and talents. 'We know not which
may prosper, whether this or that'; and in our ignorance of what it
may please God to bring out of any service faithfully rendered to
Him, we had better not be too sure that true service is ever small,
or that the work that attracts attention and is christened by men
'great' is really so in His eyes. It is well to have the noble
ambition to 'desire earnestly the greater gifts,' but it is better to
'follow the more excellent way,' and to seek after the love which
knows nothing of great or small, and without which prophecy and the
knowledge of all mysteries, and all conspicuous and all the shining
qualities profit nothing.
We can discern in Tertius' words a little touch of what we may call
pride in his work. No doubt he knew it to be subordinate, but he also
knew it to be needful; and no doubt he had put all his strength into
doing it well. No man will put his best into any task which he does
not undertake in such a spirit. It is a very plain piece of homely
wisdom that 'what is worth doing at all is worth doing well.' Without
a lavish expenditure of the utmost care and effort, our work will
tend to be slovenly and unpleasing to God, and man, and to ourselves.
We may be sure there were no blots and bits of careless writing in
Tertius' manuscript, and that he would not have claimed the friendly
feelings of his Roman brethren, if he had not felt that he had put
his best into the writing of this epistle. The great word of King
David has a very wide application. 'I will not take that which is
thine for the Lord, nor offer burnt offerings without cost.'
Tertius' salutation may suggest to us the best thing by which to be
remembered. All his life before and after the hours spent at Paul's
side has sunk in oblivion. He wished to be known only as having
written the Epistle. Christian souls ought to desire to live chiefly
in the remembrance of those to whom they have been known as having
done some little bit of work for Jesus Christ. We may well ask
ourselves whether there is anything in our lives by which we should
thus wish to be remembered. All our many activities will sink into
silence; but if the stream of our life, which has borne along down
its course so much mud and sand, has brought some grains of gold in
the form of faithful and loving service to Christ and men--these will
not be lost in the ocean, but treasured by Him. What we do for Jesus
and to spread the knowledge of His name is the immortal part of our
mortal lives, and abides in His memory and in blessed results in our
own characters, when all the rest that made our busy and often stormy
days has passed into oblivion. All that we know of Tertius who wrote
this Epistle is that he wrote it. Well will it be for us if the
summary of our lives be something like that of his!