Faith from outside (2 Tim. 1:1–14)
When Paul writes his second letter to Timothy, his son in the faith, he is in prison. The distance between them doesn’t sound like a choice. Paul remembers Timothy with tears, desperate to be reunited, while Timothy seems to be low on confidence in himself and his ministry. Paul wants to encourage Timothy by showing him that the pressure is not on him to deliver. His faith does not belong to him, nor is God’s love dependent on what he can do.
Paul’s opening words are heartfelt and personal, and they have a lot to teach us.
Family traditions count for something.
Heritage is a big deal for Paul. He opens by aligning himself with his Jewish ancestors who constantly prayed to their Father in heaven, which is what he does now, only not as a Jew but as a Christian.
Timothy doesn’t have Jewish heritage. His grandma, Lois, and his mum, Eunice, were Greek Christians. Gentiles. It’s only very early in the life of the Christian Church, but Timothy is a third generation Gentile Christian.
I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, dwells in you as well.
2 Tim. 1:5
Timothy had been blessed with a Christian family whose faith was passed on to him. There are many Christians who didn’t have Christian parents and who came to faith a different way, but we shouldn’t downplay the influence that Christian parents have had on their children.
We can sometimes brush off our German, Lutheran, or simply Christian heritage as “typical” or even “boring.” We can downplay it to the point that it can become a source of shame and embarrassment. It can seem as though the more generations of faith there are in my family, the less genuine my faith must be. I’m just following suit. I don’t have a dramatic conversion story or life-changing encounter with God.
When it comes to baptisms and confirmations, the typical trend is this:
Christian parents bring baby to be baptised
Sporadic worship attendance through childhood (e.g. mostly Christmas and Easter)
Parents bring child to be confirmed in early teens
Teens become parents, bring their own child to be baptised years later
It is sad that we often don’t see a newly baptised child all that much after it happens until confirmation comes around, and then we struggle to retain them after that. But there is a significant positive that happens anyway: that child is a baptised child of God because of family tradition.
Young parents come to have their children baptised and confirmed because it’s what their parents did with them. Even though we may not often see those parents worshipping, for some reason they have brought their child to be baptised and/or confirmed. That’s the power of family traditions through generations.
Yes, we wish we saw them more often at worship. Yes, it can be hard to know what it really means to them other than “getting done.” We trust that the Spirit is working in them, and we praise God for bringing them back for that stuff. It is not our job to judge whether a person has a live faith or not. Let God be the judge of that.
How wonderful it is that children are continually being baptised and confirmed in our community—let’s be thankful for that and praise God for working among us in that way.
Being born into a family of Christians is a great gift from God. If you do have Christian parents, grandparents, or relatives, look to their faith as a source of encouragement. That’s how Paul is using it with Timothy.
“Faith was alive and well in your grandma and then your mother. You’ve got that gift, too.”
When Timothy was low on confidence, Paul reminded him of the faith of his ancestors. This was a matter of rekindling what was already there and reminding him of what he already knew.
If you don’t have any Christian background at all, you have equal reason to be thankful to God for bringing you into the church by other means. Maybe, like Timothy and Paul, there was someone who acted as a “parent in the faith” for you.
So much of the life of faith is rekindling what is already there. We all have moments of both strength and weakness, whether it’s for a short or very long period. Some of you have wandered completely from the church for several years before finding your way back again.
One of the best things about camping in the bush is having a decent fire as the sun goes down. Without being irresponsible, you can build one big enough so that it’s still warm when you get up in the morning. All that’s needed to get the fire going again is some leaves or small sticks and a bit of oxygen.
That’s what faith is like. When our faith is weak, all we need is a word of encouragement, a gentle reminder, or occasionally a bit of a reality check, and we remember the faith we already had within us.
Whatever your background, praise God for bringing you into his fold, where you remain today.
Your faith was not your decision, but a call.
This is more obvious for those among us who were baptised as infants and brought to church every Sunday, sometimes with force, by our parents. You had no choice in the matter—being a Christian was bestowed on you.
This is true for all of you, no matter your heritage, because God calls everyone into faith in Christ. Paul is very clear on the matter:
[God] has saved us and called us to a holy life—not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time...
2 Tim. 1:9
You are not a person of faith because you decided to be. You are not a person of faith because your parents made you one. You are a person of faith because God called you according to his own purpose and grace.
You’re not forced to be here—God gives human beings a free will—but your attendance here shows that you have accepted his call, or at least not rejected it. It is likely that you come to worship because you believe God is here, he has something to say to you, and he has something to give to you.
Living a holy life, as it’s put here, isn’t just about doing holy things. It’s about being a holy person. What does a holy person do?
Being holy means to be dedicated or consecrated to the service of God. So, how does someone serve God? Primarily, we gather to hear him speak, to receive what he has to give, and to be equipped to carry out his will for us.
In other words, serving God is about letting him serve us. That’s how to be a holy person. Doing holy things is simply a flow-on effect from that.
Your faith is a deposit worth guarding.
Finally, Paul makes clear to Timothy that preaching and teaching the faith is not about doing anything particularly fancy or creative with it. As a pastor, but also as a Christian, he is not called to preach or teach anything new but to preach and teach what was preached and taught to him.
What you heard from me, keep as the pattern of sound teaching, with faith and love in Christ Jesus. Guard the good deposit that was entrusted to you—guard it with the help of the Holy Spirit who lives in us.
2 Tim. 1:13,14
Paul is not saying that preaching and teaching must always look and feel the same. There is a difference between being appreciative of traditions and being so protective of them that the tradition takes priority over the thing the tradition is meant to serve. The world around us changes, so there is certainly reason to change the way we do things from time to time. Before any change is made, though, the reason for the tradition needs to be understood, and the new thing needs to do a better job at serving the gospel. Churches don’t change for the sake of change, but they do for the sake of proclaiming the gospel in a more relevant way in an ever-changing world.
What Paul is saying is that the heart of the gospel message—that Jesus Christ became a human being, died on a cross, and rose again for the sins of the world—must never be tampered with, hindered, or hidden. The gospel should always be the most obvious sign that we are a Christian church, what we’re known for.
For that reason, we need to ensure that the pure gospel continues to be taught here. That goes for the sermons that are preached, the liturgy we use, and the courses we run. It also encompasses what you talk about at small groups, the discussions we have at meetings, and the whole life of this community.
Does this conversation reflect the gospel? Am I showing the love of Christ with what I’m doing here? Is my sense of security and worth in myself and my good works, or in Jesus?
As a church, we must constantly be on guard against anti-gospel words and actions from outside the church, but also among ourselves.
Thanks be to God that we have the Holy Spirit to convict our consciences when we say something we shouldn’t, to remind us that we are forgiven in Christ, and to empower us to do his work.
Family traditions count for something, sometimes against popular opinion. Your faith was not your decision, but a call from God, no matter your heritage. Your faith is a deposit worth guarding, but we have the Spirit to help us.
