“People to meet in heaven: Tertius”
Romans 16:22
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus.
Take a close look at paintings from the Renaissance period, the Baroque period, and even from today, and you just might see the artist’s face.
Now I’m not talking about self-portraits. Those are obviously the painter’s face. But what I am talking about is when the artist paints something else--like a scene from the Bible or of a man and his wife--and hidden somewhere in that picture is the artist’s face.
For example, in the late 1500s, Caravaggio painted a portrait of The Young Bacchus, the Roman god of wine. There’s a white sheet spread across his left arm and his head is covered with leaves.
But look closely at the bottom left corner of that painting, and you’ll see a bowl with a small reflection of light. Look even closer and you’ll see that, inside that tiny reflection, is a self-portrait—a picture of Caravaggio himself.
A hundred years before, while Michelangelo was painting the Sistine Chapel, Raphael was painting The School of Athens. It’s a portrait of mathematicians, poets and philosophers from across the centuries, like Plato, Socrates, Pythagoras and Aristotle.
But look closely towards the middle left and you’ll see none other than the artist’s face, a picture of Raphael himself.
Go back another hundred years to the early 1400’s and you’ll hear of a painter named Jan van Eyck. And in 1434, when Giovanni Arnolfini asked him to paint his wedding portrait, van Eyck posed the groom on the left, wearing a black hat and gown and the bride on the right, dressed in green.
But look closely at the mirror on the back wall. And there you’ll see not only the couples’ back, you’ll also see the painter’s face—a portrait of Jan van Eyck himself. It was his way of saying he was there when the very wedding took place.
We don’t really know why some artists chose to sneak in a picture of themselves. Maybe it’s their way of reaching out across the centuries to say something about who they were and what they looked like, and to leave their fingerprint in time.
So it was for a man named Tertius, in the book of Romans chapter 16.
If you would, please turn with me in your Bible to page 1209 as I read the words of our text. There on the right-hand column, half-way down, you’ll find verse 22: “I Tertius, who wrote this letter, greet you in the Lord.”
If you didn’t already know it, Paul sent this letter to the Christians living in Rome to encourage them in Christ and to strengthen their walk in the Lord. Out of all of his letters, this one is truly the deepest and most beautiful of all.
In this letter you’ll find words like these--in chapter 1, he wrote: “I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes.” In chapter 3, he wrote: “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” And in chapter 6, he wrote: “The wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Then in chapter 15, as Paul prepares to close, he gives thanks to God for the ministry of Christ and tells of his plan to visit Rome.
Now finally at the very end, in chapter 16, he greets the people of the church. Look at verse 1: “I commend to you our sister Phoebe, a servant of the church at Cenchreae, that you may welcome her in the Lord in a way worthy of the saints, and help her in whatever she may need from you, for she has been a patron of many and of myself as well.”
And in verse 3: “Greet Prisca and Aquila, my fellow workers in Christ Jesus, who risked their necks for my life, to whom not only I give thanks but all the churches of the Gentiles give thanks as well.”
And after listing one name after another after another, both men and women who were a blessing to him and to the church, all of a sudden we find a man named Tertius who took a moment to leave his self-portrait, his fingerprint, in time. Verse 22: “I Tertius, who wrote this letter, greet you in the Lord.”
“I Tertius, who wrote this letter”?! He didn’t write the letter! Paul wrote the letter. We know that from the very first words of the book: “Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle, set apart for the gospel of God.”
So who’s Tertius and why did he say he wrote the book?
Because, in a way, he did write the book! He was Paul’s scribe, his secretary, his administrative assistant. If you want the fancy name for him, he was Paul’s “amanuensis”—one who writes from dictation or copies a manuscript. So as Paul spoke, Tertius wrote.
You see, at that time and place, it wasn’t unusual at all to have a secretary. In fact, in Paul’s day, there were people who specialized in writing. They learned how to sharpen their pens, mix the inks, prick and line the sheets of papyrus and, most importantly, how to use the correct forms and phrases for each specific situation.
Even more, writing a letter in Paul’s day was complicated and very expensive. Scholars suggest in today’s dollars, it would cost Paul as much as $2,000 to write a letter, a cost that includes not only the papyrus and ink, but paying someone to write the letter, and someone else to deliver the letter.
Besides, it’s very possible that Paul himself couldn’t write very well. In the book of II Corinthians, he said he had a “thorn in the flesh,” something that irritated him day after day. Did he have trouble with his eyesight? Was he nearly blind?
Maybe he was, because he wrote to the Galatians, “If possible, you would have gouged out your eyes and given them to me.” And he wrote, “See with what large letters I write to you with my own hand.”
No wonder that as Paul spoke, Tertius wrote.
Can you imagine how it must have been for this man named Tertius? He sat at the feet of the apostle Paul—Paul, a man who described himself as, “a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, faultless.”
This was the one whom the Jews whipped 195 times, who was beaten with rods three times, who was shipwrecked and stoned. He was in constant danger from rivers and robbers, Jews and Gentiles, in the wilderness and at sea. He was hungry, thirsty and cold. And in five short years, he would die a martyr’s death.
And Tertius, by the grace of God, sat at his feet.
And by the grace of God, he was the very first one to ever hear Paul speak the words of Romans chapter 8: “If God is for us, who can be against us?” and “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?...No! In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.”
And he wrote: “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons…nor anything else in all creation, can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
What an honor! What a privilege! And it was all by the grace of God.
So why did he write, “I Tertius, who wrote this letter, greet you in the Lord”?
It was his way, however small, of reaching out across time and space, to say: “I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. But we both know the Lord. And I thought that maybe, just maybe, as you read this letter to the church in Rome, you might like to know that it was me, a Christian, a fellow servant of Jesus, who wrote these words, as Paul spoke from a full heart. And even though so much time and distance stand between us, this is my small, small way of saying hello. I, Tertius, greet you in the Lord.”
Late in the 1600s, there lived a humble, quiet man of God named Richard Sibbes. He was such a good man, those who knew called him, “Heavenly Richard Sibbes.”
Now, as far as we know, he didn’t do all that much. But one thing he did do—he wrote a little tract, a small brochure that he called, The Bruised Reed and the Smoking Flax, based on the words of Isaiah 42:3.
And in that little tract, he spoke of the confidence he had as an old man, that the Lord took care of the weak, the poor, the sick and the old.
Then, when a street vendor got a hold of that tract, he left copies of it all across town. That’s when another man named Richard Baxter found one, read it, and gave his life to Christ. In time, he became one of the greatest preachers of all time, for it was he who said, “I preach as never to preach again, as a dying man to dying men.”
A few more years passed, and another man named Philip Doddridge also stumbled across that little tract. And when he read it, he too came to faith. And not only did he write a song called, “O happy day when Jesus washed my sins away!” he wrote a book called, The Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul.
A few more years passed, and another man, William Wilberforce, stumbled across Philip’s book. And he too came to Christ. And not only did he lead England through one of its most trying times, he wrote a book called, A Practical View of Real Christianity.
Who would have thought that one little tract could do so much?!
So it was for a man named Tertius.
As far as we know, he wasn’t a great speaker like Apollos or a great teacher like Priscilla or Aquila. He wasn’t influential like Lydia or a renowned church planter like Peter or Paul. All he was was a scribe, a secretary for the apostle Paul. But even though he seemed so minor and his place in life so small, he wrote the words of Paul’s letter to the church in Rome.
And someday, when we meet him in heaven, we can say, “Tertius, we really don’t know much about you—who you were or what you did—but we thank you for your humble ministry and for writing down this letter to the church in Rome.”
As Joseph Barnby once wrote: “Let none hear you idly saying, ‘There is nothing I can do,’ while the multitudes are dying and the Master calls for you. Take the task He gives you gladly; let His work your pleasure be. Answer quickly when He calls you, ‘Here am I. Send me, send me!’”
We thank You, dear Lord, for the life and ministry of a secretary named Tertius. We ask You to use even us, in our time and place, to show Your glory and to do Your will. This we ask in Jesus’ name. Amen