Text: “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.” — 2 Timothy 4:7
Introduction
It is one thing to begin the Christian race; it is another to end it. Multitudes rise with passion at the sound of the starting gun, but only a faithful few reach the final lap with eyes still on the prize. The way is not short. The wind is not always at your back. And the track is not always smooth.
The Christian life is not a sprint but a marathon, paved with hardship, soaked in tears, and hedged on every side by temptation. It is a warfare, not a walk in the garden. And yet, Paul the Apostle—scarred, beaten, weary—stands at the edge of eternity and declares: “I have finished.” Not “I tried.” Not “I wished.” But “I finished.”
And how? Not by human will. Not by natural strength. But by grace. If any man finishes well, it is because grace carried him to the end. It is not enough to begin in grace. We must also continue in grace, endure by grace, and arrive by grace. There is such a thing as grace to finish well—and tonight, it is this we shall consider.
I. The Race Is Long, and the Path Is Narrow
The Lord never promised that the road to glory would be broad or paved with ease. “Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way which leadeth unto life.” Many begin with songs of joy, but as the sun beats down, their knees buckle, and their feet turn aside.
The Christian life is not a ceremonial vow but a lifelong pilgrimage. It winds through deserts of doubt, hills of hardship, valleys of loss. There are moments of triumph—but there are also long nights of sorrow. There are bursts of joy—but also long stretches of silence when the heavens seem closed.
Many souls stagger on the way. Like Demas, they start with zeal but love the present world. Like Judas, they walk with the Master, yet stumble before the end. They did not finish well. They fell, not because grace failed, but because they walked away from it. They ran on their own strength. They trusted in the flesh. They drifted, and then they drowned.
Let us, then, not be content merely to run. Let us plead for grace to finish well—for the power not only to begin but to endure to the end.
II. Starting Well Is a Blessing, But Finishing Well Is the Crown
We thank God for those who come early to Christ. For children who surrender at a young age. For youth who burn with holy fire. These are miracles of mercy.
But there is something greater still—to follow Christ not only in the morning of life but through the noon and into the night. To walk with Him not only in youth, when strength abounds, but in the weariness of age. To carry the cross through years of testing, decades of struggle, and still cling to it with white-knuckled faith as the last breath draws near.
The world applauds those who begin. Heaven crowns those who finish.
And finishing well is not finishing without scars. It is not crossing the line unscathed. It is limping over the finish with your eyes still on Jesus. It is saying, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.” It is rising after every fall, crawling when you cannot walk, and whispering “Jesus is Lord” even when your voice is gone.
Finishing well is not perfection—it is perseverance in grace. And the crown awaits not the swiftest, but the one who did not quit.
III. Grace Is What Sustains When Strength Fails
How does a man finish well?
Not by the might of discipline alone. Not by sheer resolution. These may carry you a few miles, but the road is too long, the burdens too heavy.
There must be something more than natural power. There must be something divine. There must be grace.
Grace that renews when strength is spent. Grace that lifts the fainting soul. Grace that binds up the wounded. Grace that prays for you when you can no longer pray for yourself.
Do you remember Peter?
He swore he would never fall. He had confidence, passion, devotion. And yet, before the rooster crowed, he denied his Lord three times. What saved him? What restored him? It was not his willpower. It was not his tears. It was grace.
“I have prayed for thee,” said the Master, “that thy faith fail not.”
Even when Peter failed, grace kept his faith from failing completely. And that same grace restored him to the flock, made him a pillar in the Church, and gave him strength to finish well—even to die crucified for his Christ.
IV. Grace Covers the Entire Journey, Not Just the Beginning
One of Satan’s lies is that grace is good for salvation but not for sanctification. That grace gets you in, but strength must carry you the rest of the way.
But grace is not a door only. It is the floor you walk on. It is the air you breathe. It is the power that moves your legs, and the arm that catches you when you fall.
You began in grace. You must continue in it.
“Having begun in the Spirit, are ye now made perfect by the flesh?” asked Paul. God forbid.
Just as you could not save yourself, you cannot sanctify yourself by human effort. You need grace for today’s obedience. Grace for today’s cross. Grace for today’s temptations. And when tomorrow comes, new grace will meet you there.
Each day of your journey is written on the parchment of grace. And when the last page turns, you will find that grace has signed your story from beginning to end.
V. Examples of Those Who Finished Well—By Grace
Look through the pages of Scripture, and you will find that all who finished well did so because God’s grace never left them.
Noah built the ark for decades, mocked by men and surrounded by corruption, but he endured. Grace held the hammer in his hand.
Abraham waited long for the promised child, wandered through nations, faced doubts, yet died “full of years and of faith.” Grace sustained his patience.
Joseph endured betrayal, false accusation, and prison, but he stood at the right hand of Pharaoh and forgave his brothers. Grace taught him to forget bitterness.
Daniel stood firm in Babylon, prayed in lion’s dens, and served kings without compromising his soul. Grace gave him backbone.
And Paul—what of Paul? Whipped, shipwrecked, stoned, imprisoned, abandoned. Yet he writes: “I have kept the faith.”
What kept him? Not talent. Not luck. Grace. Grace. Grace.
And that same grace is available to us.
VI. Finishing Well Is Not About Recognition but About Faithfulness
The world defines finishing well by applause, by achievements, by accolades. But heaven counts differently.
Finishing well is not about being famous. It is about being faithful.
The widow with two mites gave more than the rich. The thief on the cross believed with minutes to spare and was welcomed into paradise. The unknown missionary who died unknown is not unknown in heaven. The quiet pastor who preached to twenty souls for thirty years, the mother who prayed for her children through tears, the old man who never preached but lived a holy life—all these shall wear crowns.
Finishing well is not finishing in the spotlight. It is finishing in Christ.
It is saying with Paul, “I have finished my course.” Not your neighbor’s course. Not someone else’s destiny. Yours. The one He assigned you. With your cross. Your race. Your calling.
And grace is given to you for that specific path.
VII. Grace Awaits Us at the Finish Line
There is one more grace yet to be revealed: dying grace.
The grace to say goodbye. The grace to face eternity. The grace to cross the river.
Paul knew this. He said, “The time of my departure is at hand.” But he was not afraid. He had no regrets. Why? Because grace was with him even then.
“Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness.”
At the end of the race, there is not just relief—there is reward. There is not just silence—there is a Savior.
Grace will meet us one last time, and then pass the baton to glory.
And then we shall see Him, not through a veil, but face to face. The One who was our strength when we were weak, our song in the night, our light in the dark, our shield in the fire, our hope in despair—He shall be our everlasting joy.
Conclusion
Do you wish to finish well?
Then lean not on your strength but on His grace.
It is grace that called you. Grace that saved you. Grace that carries you. And grace that shall not let you fall.
Your trials may increase. Your steps may slow. But grace is not tired. Grace is not absent. Grace is not weak.
Cry out, even now: “Lord, let me finish well. Let me die with faith. Let me keep my eyes on You until the end.”
And you shall find that grace is not a trickle, but a torrent. Not a flicker, but a fire.
You will finish—not because you are strong, but because Jesus is faithful.
And at the end, when all is done, you will fall at His feet and say, “It was grace. All of it. Grace to start. Grace to stand. Grace to finish. And grace forevermore.”
Amen.