WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?

A Sermon by Bill McDonald from 2 Timothy 1:1-14

October 7, 2007

2 Timothy 1

¹Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, for the sake of the promise of life that is in Christ Jesus,

²To Timothy, my beloved child:

Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.

³I am grateful to God—whom I worship with a clear conscience, as my ancestors did—when I remember you constantly in my prayers night and day. ⁴Recalling your tears, I long to see you so that I may be filled with joy. ⁵I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you. ⁶For this reason I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you through the laying on of my hands; ⁷for God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.

⁸Do not be ashamed, then, of the testimony about our Lord or of me his prisoner, but join with me in suffering for the gospel, relying on the power of God, ⁹who saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works but according to his own purpose and grace. This grace was given to us in Christ Jesus before the ages began, ¹⁰but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. ¹¹For this gospel I was appointed a herald and an apostle and a teacher, ¹²and for this reason I suffer as I do. But I am not ashamed, for I know the one in whom I have put my trust, and I am sure that he is able to guard until that day what I have entrusted to him. ¹³Hold to the standard of sound teaching that you have heard from me, in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. ¹⁴Guard the good treasure entrusted to you, with the help of the Holy Spirit living in us.

Where did THAT come from? You have probably said that before when you are with a friend who comes out with some profound remark that you thought was way above his depth. Where did THAT come from? Or perhaps your daughter’s pre-school teacher tells you that when your precious little girl is surprised, she tends to use a colorful, off-color exclamation containing the word “Holy”. You stammer sheepishly, “Well, I have no idea where she heard that!” But the pre-school teacher just smiles and gazes at you with that knowing look. The things we do and say usually have some origin in what we have seen and heard. That is especially true of our faith.

The letter we call 2 Timothy, which may actually have been written before 1 Timothy, depicts the apostle Paul in prison somewhere, remembering in his prayers his young friend and student, Timothy. Paul prays for the success and the faithfulness of this greenhorn minister, prays that Timothy will be able to accomplish what it is now obvious that Paul won’t be able to do—to pass the faith on to the next generation. Paul realizes that his ministry and his life are nearly at an end. And he is correct for he was soon executed. All his hopes are in Timothy and those like him.

In this passage I hear Paul saying that three things are necessary for faith to survive and thrive: a Mother, a Mentor, and a Messiah. Timothy might be a third generation disciple, his grandmother Lois and his mother Eunice being described by Paul as people of a sincere faith. Or it might be that they were admirably faithful Jews who came to believe that Christ was the fulfillment of Jewish hopes. There is no doubt that, when Timothy spoke about faith, people knew where THAT came from—his mother and grandmother. The little girl stood frozen on the stage in the church play unable to remember her line. When she looked over into the wings, she saw her mother who was giving cues to her by mouthing the words, “I-am-the-light-of-the-world.” The little girl turned back to the audience, cleared her throat and proclaimed, “My mother is the light of the world!” Well, no…but her mother was well on the way to unveiling the light of the world. Paul says that Jesus “brought life and immortality to light through the gospel.” Unveiling the truth, telling the great secrets, lighting up the darkness with truth, that was the role of Eunice and Lois, that’s the role of the Mother. And it is important for us in the ongoing church wars about women in ministry to realize that the historic faith would not have flowed through Timothy to us without the ministry of these two women, his mother and his grandmother. Though she wouldn’t have been allowed to serve as a Deacon in my childhood church, I certainly know who it was who read and explained the Bible to me at night and who taught me to pray. It was my mother, my link in the chain of faith.

But you don’t have to be a mother to be a Mother—not in the sense I mean it here today. The faith-forwarder might be a grandmother like Lois or a grandfather or a father or an aunt or uncle. Who was it in your family who passed along the faith to you? You got Aunt Lily’s recipe for oyster stew, you inherited Grandpa Wilbur’s love of classical music, who bequeathed you your faith? Luke Timothy Johnson writes, “If churches face any crisis today, it is that they are expected to bear the burden of primary socializing in the faith that should have been carried out in households and families. Indeed, by focusing only on the public and ecclesial ways of shaping faith, the church has colluded in neglecting the most important—because most formative—influences of grandparents and parents in the transmission of faith. It does not matter whether men or women model and teach faith as a human and theological virtue from the earliest days of a child’s life within the home. What matters is that someone does it.”

Strong faith needs a Mother, but it also needs a Mentor. Paul is concerned about his young protégé. He recalls Timothy’s tears. After mentioning Lois’ faith and Eunice’s faith, Paul tells Timothy that same faith lives in him, adding, “I am sure.” It is an “I am sure” that might mean “I am not so sure.” He urges Timothy to “rekindle” the gift of God for ministry that is within him. You don’t tell a dynamo to speed it up. You don’t tell a powerhouse to turn it on. You don’t tell an already fired-up minister to rekindle his flame. It sounds as if Timothy might be burned out or depressed or disillusioned.

And why shouldn’t he be? His mentor, Paul, the one to whose coattails he clung, the one on whose right arm he was going to march into glorious victory, the one who had God Almighty in his corner…is in prison. People are talking, turning against Paul perhaps to avoid a similar fate, perhaps in disappointment at his lack of earthly power when facing the authorities. Maybe Timothy was disappointed in him too. It happens when we lose our heroes, when they fall off our high pedestals. My early mentor in ministry, guitar-playing, motorcycle-riding, straight-talking, fell beneath an emotional illness and then, sadly estranged from me, died much too young. But he had already taught me the same things Paul is saying here to Timothy: be bold, God did not give us a spirit of cowardice. Tell the gospel truth; lay the cards out and let folks respond to them however they will, but don’t be intimidated by opposition. It is God’s power and love that drive our sharing of the faith; be disciplined enough to stick with it. Paul tells the now-timid Timothy that, so what, I am in prison. I’m not ashamed of that. I am not ashamed to suffer for the gospel. And I certainly am not ashamed of the message we deliver. We need mentors in the faith who will remind us of those things when times get rough. When society pulls us down a different path, when the current of public opinion pushes us along an ungodly streambed, when our heroes get trounced and the darkness prevails, people need a reminding mentor. Who has been your mentor?

Strong faith requires a Messiah. In every line of Paul’s letter he keeps turning Timothy back to the source, back to God. “We are not in this alone; rely on the power of God. We aren’t talking for the sake of hearing ourselves talk; it is God who has called us to speak out in faith. We never claimed to be good at this; it is God’s grace through Jesus Christ that keeps us going.” Then Paul lays out his own faith in a declaration that I bet Timothy remembered for the rest of his life: “I know the one in whom I have put my trust and I am sure that he is able to guard until that day what I have entrusted to him.” What if all the stuff we have been teaching our children is wrong? What if the Bible stories we have been reading them are not true? What if the path we have laid out for them isn’t how they ought to be living? What if love isn’t the way and goodness is only for wimps? Can we prove any of our Christian claims? No, but we know the One who tells us that it is true! And I am willing to bet my life on him. I bet you are too. We entrust our faith and our ministry to the Messiah, to God’s Anointed One, to Jesus the Christ.

So, when folks look at your faith, they might say, where did THAT come from? And you can tell them that it came from a Mother, a Mentor and a Messiah. That’s how you got where you are. But Paul, long gone now, still worries about us. Just substitute your name for Timothy’s in this letter. Will we keep the chain unbroken? Will we feed the faith forward? We don’t need to try to be the Messiah. We’ve got one already who is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. But, oh, we need Mothers and Mentors, what Paul terms a “holy calling.” To be a herald and announce the presence of Christ. To be an apostle, a courier, a carrier of the message of God’s love. To be a teacher whose modern words transfer ancient truth to the next generation.

Some one unfamiliar with this neighborhood might overlook our church tucked up here behind all the beautiful trees and landscaping. Then walking by one day they might turn their heads in surprise and exclaim, “Where did THAT come from?” And you can tell them: from a Mother and a Mentor and a Messiah.