To Be Made Strong in the Farewell

There is a word that the Holy Spirit has hidden in the final breath of two apostolic letters, a word that carries the weight of a blessing upon the threshold of parting. The verb rhṓnnymi appears only twice in the New Testament, yet its sound echoes through the centuries like a priestly benediction spoken at the temple gate. It means to strengthen, to make firm, to endue with power—and in its passive form, it becomes the very greeting of health and wholeness. When a first-century Jew said rhṓnnymi, he was not merely saying goodbye; he was invoking the strength of the Most High upon the one departing. This is no casual word. It is a prayer wrapped in a syllable.

The Dart That Becomes a Blessing

The ancient sages observed that words are like arrows—they leave the mouth and cannot be recalled. The derivation of rhṓnnymi comes from a root meaning "to dart," to hurl with force. Yet in the New Testament, this same root is transformed into a passive blessing: rhṓnnymi in the imperative means "be strong," or as the King James Version renders it, "farewell." The shift is profound. What was once a violent thrust becomes a gentle strengthening. The apostle Paul, who knew the power of words to wound and to heal, uses this verb in Acts 15:29 when the council at Jerusalem releases the Gentile believers with a charge: "From which if you keep yourselves, you shall do well. Rhṓnnymi." Be strong. Go in wholeness. The dart of the law has become the blessing of liberty. The early church understood that every farewell in Christ is not an ending but a sending forth with divine power.

The Passive Voice of Divine Health

Notice that the New Testament uses rhṓnnymi only in the imperative passive. This grammatical form reveals a deep truth: you do not strengthen yourself. You are strengthened. The verb is impersonal, as though health itself comes from beyond the self. In Acts 23:30, the Roman commander writes to Felix concerning Paul, and the closing word is simply rhṓnnymi—"be strong." But who gives this strength? The passive voice points to the Giver. The Septuagint translates the Hebrew shalom in certain contexts with this same root, and the rabbis of old taught that peace is not a feeling but a force that descends from heaven. When the apostle writes rhṓnnymi, he is releasing the strength of the covenant upon the reader. The verb does not command you to muster courage; it declares that courage has been given. The early fathers of the faith, including Ignatius and Clement, used this word in their epistles as a seal of apostolic power, a transfer of spiritual health from the sender to the receiver.

The Bridge Between Two Testaments

In the Septuagint, rhṓnnymi often translates the Hebrew verb chazaq, which means to be strong, to prevail, to lay hold of firmly. When the Lord spoke to Joshua and said, "Be strong and of good courage" (Joshua 1:6), the Greek translators chose rhṓnnymi to carry that command. The word thus bridges the old covenant and the new. The strength that Joshua needed to enter the Promised Land is the same strength that the apostolic church needed to go into all the world. But there is a deepening: where chazaq often implied physical might or military resolve, rhṓnnymi in the New Testament becomes a spiritual vitality. The farewell is not a dismissal but a commission. When Paul writes rhṓnnymi to the Corinthians or the Romans, he is not saying, "I hope you feel better." He is saying, "The strength of the Messiah now abides upon you." The Jewish tradition of blessing before departure finds its fullest expression in this single verb, for it carries the weight of the Aaronic benediction: "The Lord bless you and keep you."

The Two Occurrences and Their Weight

Only twice does rhṓnnymi appear in the New Testament, and both times it is at the close of a letter. In Acts 15:29, the council of apostles and elders in Jerusalem sends word to the Gentile believers in Antioch, Syria, and Cilicia, instructing them to abstain from certain practices. The final word is rhṓnnymi—"be strong." In Acts 23:30, the Roman tribune writes to Governor Felix about Paul's safety, and again the closing is rhṓnnymi. Two letters, one from the apostolic council, one from a Roman official. The Holy Spirit has placed this verb at the intersection of divine authority and human governance. The early church saw in this pattern a mystery: that all farewells in Christ are governed by the same strength. Whether the letter comes from a brother or a stranger, the blessing is the same. The verb does not appear in the Gospels, for Yeshua did not say farewell—He said, "I am with you always." But the apostles, who had to depart from one another, needed a word that carried His presence across the miles.

The LXX Bridge and the Hebrew Root

To understand the depth of rhṓnnymi, one must trace its path through the Septuagint. This Greek verb translates not only chazaq but also the Hebrew shalom in certain farewell contexts. In Judges 18:6, the priest says to the Danite spies, "Go in peace (shalom) before the Lord," and the Greek reads rhṓnnymi. Here the word carries both health and covenant peace. The Hebrew shalom is not merely the absence of conflict; it is the wholeness that comes from walking in the presence of the Almighty. When the Greek translators chose rhṓnnymi to render this blessing, they infused the verb with the fullness of the Hebrew concept. Every time Paul or Luke writes rhṓnnymi, the echo of shalom resounds. The apostolic farewell is a declaration that the one departing carries the wholeness of the covenant into the world. This is not a wish; it is a reality. The early church understood that when they spoke this word, they were releasing the peace of Messiah into the life of the believer.

The Messianic Farewell That Never Ends

Yeshua Himself did not use rhṓnnymi in His farewell discourse, but His words carry the same weight. When He said, "Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you" (John 14:27), He was giving the substance that rhṓnnymi only names. The apostles, having received this peace, then gave it to others through this verb. The New Testament writers apply the strength of rhṓnnymi to the life of the believer, but the source of that strength is always the risen Messiah. In Philippians 4:13, Paul writes, "I can do all things through Him who strengthens me," using a different but related verb. Yet the farewell blessing of rhṓnnymi is the practical outworking of that truth. When you are sent forth from the assembly, you are not sent empty. You carry the strength of the One who conquered death. The early church saw in this word a type of the Great Commission: "Go therefore and make disciples" is the command, but rhṓnnymi is the enabling. You are strengthened to go.

Your Farewell Is Your Testimony

And now, beloved reader, the word comes to you. Every farewell you speak is an opportunity to release the strength of heaven. When you part from a brother or sister in the faith, let your heart utter rhṓnnymi—not as a hollow custom, but as a true transfer of power. You are not saying goodbye; you are saying, "Be strong in the Lord." The passive imperative reminds you that the strength does not originate in you. You are simply the vessel through which the blessing flows. The next time you leave a gathering of the faithful, or send a letter, or close a conversation with a fellow sojourner, let the ancient word rise from your spirit. Speak health. Declare wholeness. For the dart of the enemy has been turned into the blessing of the Most High, and you are made strong to go forth in the name of Yeshua. Rhṓnnymi—be strengthened, and go in peace.