WHY THE REFORMATION STILL MATTERS

Text:  Luke 18:9-14

Theme:  "Why the Reformation Still Matters"

23rd Sunday After Pentecost

Reformation Sunday

October 27, 2013

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

 

+In the Name of Jesus+

 

It's a good question, a legitimate question, a reasonable question -- and that question is this:  why would an event (or series of events) that transpired nearly five hundred years ago have any possible relevance for life today?  That period of time that is dubbed the "dark ages" went from roughly the year 500 A.D. to 1500 A.D. After that came the Renaissance and the Enlightenment.   Then, moving further down the line, we had revolutions. Think of the American revolution.  Historians talk about the industrial revolution. Even now we're in the technological revolution. We are said to live in the "Information" age where the entire contents of the Library of Congress can be kept on a single microchip.  Yes, Guttenberg's invention of the printing press was quite amazing  about five hundred years ago.  But now we read our books -- and even preach our sermons! -- from an electronic Kindle or Nook.  Without even leaving the comfort or our own family rooms, we can wirelessly purchase anything our heart desires -- from books to textbooks, from Sports Illustrated and Field Stream to Ladies Home Journal, Mademoiselle, and Cosmopolitan.   Given our technological "footprint", the advertisers can then "suggest" new books to read and various and sundry items to purchase based on our buying patterns.

 

We've come a long way, haven't we?  It used to be that young people looked up to the old folks for wisdom and guidance.  Nowadays, it's the old folks who look to the young folks for directions on how to program the DVR!  It used to be that people worshipped on their knees.  But then came kneelers and wooden pews.  Now we have theatre seating.  It used to be that messages were delivered from pulpits.  Now, in a growing number of churches, they are delivered from a stage complete with a PowerPoint presentation.  It used to be that wars were fought with stick and stones and spears and javelins.  Now we have predator drones. We've come a long way, haven't we?

 

All of that said, it shouldn't surprise anyone if someone says "Who in the heck is Martin Luther?  Isn't he the guy that gave the great speech about having a dream? And what is this thing called the Reformation?  You better tell me quick because Dallas plays Detroit at noon and I've got to get things ready for Halloween after the game!"

 

Yes, a man named Martin Luther -- a Roman Catholic, an Augustinian monk, and a university professor of theology -- pinned a set of theses on the front door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, Germany on October 31st, 1517, the eve of All Saints Day. 

 

This past week I ran across a picture of Martin Luther that I posted on my Facebook account.  Someone had put words into his mouth which said:  "I don't always  nail things to church doors.  But when I do, stuff starts to happen."

 

What happened nearly five hundred years ago --which wasn't limited to Luther in Germany but also included John Calvin in Geneva, Switzerland and many others -- was a very dangerous attempt to remove hundreds of years worth of rules, regulations, manipulation, control, and hierarchy off the back of the Gospel -- the good news of God's grace and mercy for everyone in the person and work of Jesus Christ!  The head of the church is not the pope -- and it's not the cardinals; it's not the bishops; it's not the theologians; it's not the heads of state (as they attempted to do in England with Henry VIII),and it's not even in a convention, a general assembly, or a session!   The head of the church is Jesus Christ.  The gifts and promises of the head of the church are not found in papal decrees (as they were then) or in "mission" or "vision" statements or in some list of fundamentals (as they are now).  They are not to be recognized in overtures passed by some assembly.  They are given in the Bible. 

 

When you boil it down to brass tacks, what matters about the Reformation is actually a question that we all must ask:  am I going to go home justified?  At the end of the day and, indeed, at the end of my life, am I going to go home justified?  Am I going to go home justified because I was a good person or because I bucked the trend and kept 65% of God's rules 75% of the time?  Am I going to go home justified because I always paid my taxes before April 15th, gave 10% of my income to the church and even more to other charitable causes?  Am I going to go home justified because my moral resume is pure and pristine in comparison to the mud and immoral sludge slathered all over  someone else's track record? 

 

Or am I going to go home justified because God was merciful to me, a sinner?  Am I going to home justified because me and Jesus were pals?  Or am I going to go home justified because of grace alone, through faith alone, because of Christ alone, who I have come to know through Scripture alone? 

 

Speaking of Scripture, in today's Gospel Jesus tells a little story that he tailored to a specific audience.  That audience included folks, Luke reports, who were "confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else."  Just an observation here., folks, but that sounds like America in 2013.  It's the Democrats' fault; it's the Republican's fault; it's the guy who is texting while driving's fault; it's that no good, dirty so-and-so's fault!  All of us, to one degree or another, are confident of our own righteousness.  We took Jack Palance seriously when he slapped aftershave on his face and said:  "Confidence is very sexy."    It's impulsive; it's instinctual; it's nothing short of our default position.  When something goes wrong, whose fault is it?  Immediately, it must be someone else's.  Now, it could very well be the case that when something bad happens it IS someone else's fault, but the impulse to justify ourselves is even more powerful than the pain of victimhood.  There's that little, nagging, hyper-sensitive something in all of us that insists on saving face!

 

The scene is set in the temple.  It is the hour of prayer. A Pharisee stands up to offer his prayer.    He looks up to heaven, and he starts off with a word of gratitude -- and isn't gratitude a good place to start?  The question is:  what are you grateful for? The Pharisee thanks God because he is, to use his own words, "not like other men -- robbers, evildoers, adulterers -- or even like this tax collector.  I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get."  The Pharisee thanks God because he has made his comparisons, and he comes out smelling like a rose.

 

But meanwhile, standing a distance away from this Pharisee, is a tax collector -- a man who had betrayed his own countrymen and legally fleeced his pockets with their money.  He was despised and hated -- a man that almighty God should not bother with.  But this tax collector had the audacity to even appear in the temple.  Unlike the Pharisee, he didn't look up to heaven at all.  In a gesture that was physically, spiritually, and emotionally painful, he beat his breast.  That's how intense his feelings were.  He says:  "God, have mercy on me, a sinner."  He did not compare himself to other people and stand on his laurels, for there were no laurels to stand on. 

 

He understood himself to be coram Deo--that's Latin for "before the face of God."  And the tax collector knew that coram Deo is the point where nobody is fooling anybody.  What the tax collector does is two things:  he states a fact, and he makes a request.  The fact is:  he is a sinner. The request is:  God, be merciful to me.

 

Why does the Reformation matter?  It's not because the Roman Catholic Church matters, or the Presbyterian Church matters, or any other tradition of Christians matters.  The Reformation matters because the Gospel matters.

 

Jesus said that it was the tax collector who went home justified. He didn't make comparisons; he didn't stand on his laurels. He stated the fact.  He pleaded for mercy.  Whether he knew it or felt it or not, Jesus says he went home justified. 

 

Why does the Reformation matter?  Because going home justified at the end of the day matters.  Yes, we've come a long way, but what matters more than this?

 

The Reformation refocused everything.  It refocused things then, and, please God, let it refocus things now.  With the Reformation, we went from "What can I do to earn God's favor?" to "Look how God is merciful to us sinners in Jesus Christ!" 

 

Because God is merciful, we go home justified.  Amen.

Text:  Jeremiah 31:31-34

Theme:  "Are We In Agreement?"

22nd Sunday after Pentecost

October 20, 2013

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

 

+In the Name of Jesus+

 

³¹ “The days are coming,” declares the Lord,
    “when I will make a new covenant
with the people of Israel
    and with the people of Judah.
³² It will not be like the covenant
    I made with their ancestors
when I took them by the hand
    to lead them out of Egypt,
because they broke my covenant,
    though I was a husband to^[d] them,^[e]”
declares the Lord.
³³ “This is the covenant I will make with the people of Israel
    after that time,” declares the Lord.
“I will put my law in their minds
    and write it on their hearts.
I will be their God,
    and they will be my people.
³⁴ No longer will they teach their neighbor,
    or say to one another, ‘Know the Lord,’
because they will all know me,
    from the least of them to the greatest,”
declares the Lord.
“For I will forgive their wickedness
    and will remember their sins no more.”

A little over a week ago, I ran into a couple of friends of mine by the names of Doug and Lynne Ebersole.  I got to know them when I worked at St. Andrew Presbyterian Church just down the road.  Doug is a musician who plays brass in a number of local bands.  One of those groups is called "Strictly Dixie", and play a lot of old favorites in a Dixieland jazz style. 

 

At any rate, Doug had mentioned that he and Lynne were about to get on a plane and fly to France. While there, the plan was to visit American cemeteries.  While on the grounds of those cemeteries, Doug had hoped to get out his trumpet and play "Taps" in honor of those Americans, during the world wars, who gave the last full measure of devotion.  His eyes misted up when he told me about it.  It clearly meant a great deal to him. 

 

They had to change their plans. Why? Well, it was because of the government shut down.  Those cemeteries are not run by the French. Our federal government operates them, and, as it turns out, those cemeteries were closed due to the shutdown.  Finally, in Washington, an agreement was reached (if you can call it that), and the parts of the government that were closed were reopened. As a result, Doug and Lynne take off Wednesday for France.   Doug will be able to play his trumpet and check off an item on his bucket list.  He wouldn't be able to do it if there were no agreement.

 

There's a lot in the lives we lead that wouldn't get done without agreement.  Sometimes we like to think that we are free agents and don't have to enter into any kind of agreement with anyone else.  But that kind of thinking has pretty much been exposed as nonsense.  When we do the paperwork for a new car or a new home, we enter into an agreement.  When we take a spouse, we enter into an agreement -- for better and for worse, for richer and poorer, and so forth.  When we pull out our Visa or MasterCard to pay for lunch after church, we enter into an agreement. Agreements both large and small are part of the warp and woof of life.

 

The Biblical term for agreement is "covenant."  That's one of those multi-million dollar theological terms that has, for the most part, fallen out of common usage.  But a covenant is basically an agreement. It's very simple:  "I'll do this for you, and you'll do this for me." That's it; that's a covenant.  "I'll agree to prepare your Eggs Benedict and serve you your French Roast coffee, and you'll agree to pay what we charge -- for the Eggs Benedict and the French Roast coffee."

 

A huge portion of that book we call the Bible is nothing if not a track record of how well -- or how poorly -- covenants are kept.  God enters into covenant with Adam.  God enters into covenant with Noah.  God enters into covenant with Abraham and Sarah.  God enters into covenant with Moses.  God enters into covenant with King David.  The people agree to the terms.  You will be our God.  We will be your people. You will preserve our lives; we will follow your rules.  You will bring us into a land flowing milk and honey.  We will worship You alone. 

 

God's Word goes to great lengths and great pains to point out that the people didn't always live up to the terms of the agreement. They sinned; they became "free agents"; they worshipped other gods.   In short, by playing fast and loose with their terms of the agreement, they ended up spiritually and morally bankrupt.  God, on the other hand, kept the divine part of the bargain. God's terms of the agreement were followed to the letter; God's portion of the covenant never missed a beat.  But the people?  They would agree to the terms with their lips, but their lives told another story.  In short, when it comes to covenant, God was faithful but God's people were not.

 

During a particularly distressing time during this history of covenants kept and broken, there enters in a prophet -- a spokesman for the Lord -- by the name of Jeremiah.  Later generations would call him a "major" prophet; his book, in the Old Testament, comprises over fifty chapters.

 

Despite the doom and gloom contained therein, Jeremiah does serve up one of the greatest -- if not, the greatest! -- promises of God ever delivered to people.  Through Jeremiah, God says:  "The days are coming when I will make a new covenant."   It won't be like the old covenants.  "I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts.  I will be their God, and they will be my people.  No longer will they teach their neighbor, or say to one another, ‘Know the Lord,’ because they will all know me, from the least of them to the greatest,” declares the Lord.  “For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more."

 

What a strange covenant this is!  What a weird agreement there appears to be!  In a covenant or agreement, there are usually two sets of terms.  "I'll do this"; that's one set of terms.  "You'll do that"; that's the other set of terms.  But this is entirely new in the whole history of covenants, for there is only one set of terms.  They involve what God will do and NOT what the people will do.  At the beating heart, at the core of this radically new covenant, is this:  it entirely God's terms and no one else's.  In effect, God is entering into covenant with Himself.  "I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more."  There's no more "I'll scratch your back and you scratch mine."  This is entirely the initiative, the action, the mercy, and the grace of God alone.

 

The good news I share with you today is no more or less than this:  through Jeremiah, God make the promise of the new covenant.  In Jesus Christ, God fulfilled it.  Christ's death on a cross for our sins and His glorious resurrection on Easter day for our justification, shows God keeping the terms of His covenant.  Forgiveness is no longer a promise.  It's a present reality.  It's not a set of terms; it's a gift.  Jesus says:  "Take and eat; this is my body given for you.  Take and drink; this cup is the new covenant in my blood given and shed for the forgiveness of your sins." 

 

One of my golfing buddies told the story of walking into Racetrack one day to buy a soft drink after filling his car with gas.  When he was checking out, the cashier -- completely out of the blue -- handed him eight dollars. As it turns out, the previous customer had given ten dollars to the cashier to give, as an anonymous gift, to the next customer.  The two dollars he didn't get was used to pay for the Coca-cola.  Whoever that customer was made no difference.  That illustrates this new covenant of God.  You don't see it coming; it comes as a gift.  You didn't ask for it; you didn't earn it, but there it is.  "I will forgive their wickedness and remember their sins no more."

 

I remember standing behind a man in line at Starbucks.  I noticed he was wearing military fatigues.  I observed him pull out his wallet to pay.  The barista said:  "No charge today." The soldier was surprised.  "The lady in front of you paid for it," said the barista.

 

Call it kindness.  Call it "paying it forward."  Call it what you will, but stories such as this warm the heart, and why?  Because they are earthly examples -- parables, if you will -- of God's grace.  They are little illustrations and snippets of human love mimicking divine love.

 

As Christians, we are always tempted to fall back into the ways of the old covenant -- which only shows that we are no longer trusting the new covenant.  We tumble into the trap of thinking that Christianity is little more than a set of rules to follow that, if kept, produces holiness of life and living.  Instead of "little Christs" we become little -- and even not-so-little Pharisees -- who strive to pick the immoral speck out of our neighbors eyes while neglecting the massive log in our own.  If that's the type of Christianity people see, it's no wonder many are turned off.  Sometimes I think we become so earnest in trying to "discern the will of God" that we quite forget that this new covenant IS the will of God. 

 

A number of years ago I got a call from a fraternity brother that I hadn't heard from in a long time.  He called from Arizona.  I didn't even know that he lived there.  He told me that his dad was in the ICU of an Indianapolis hospital and that he didn't have time to live.  Through tears, this tough old fraternity brother told me that, while he was a good dad, his father never really cared much for the church or for spiritual matters. "But now," said my Sig Ep brother, "he wants to make peace with God." I knew what my old friend was about to ask.  "Sure, I'll go," said.

 

I drove to the hospital and went to the ICU.  I introduced myself and made the family connections.   "I don't know how long I have," the man said. "I need to make peace with God."  "We can't make peace with God,", I said,  "but I believe I was sent here to tell you that God has made peace with us."  Later that day, nothing prevented that man from receiving baptism right there in his hospital bed.  He was a child of the new covenant -- not by anything he had done.  At the end of day and at the end of his life, that didn't matter.  What mattered was this:  God forgave his wickedness and didn't remember his sin.

 

Agreements will continue to be made and kept and broken. Maybe the debt ceiling will be raised again and maybe it won't.  Maybe the government will shut down again and maybe it won't.  About all I know is that my friend is going to get to play taps at American cemeteries in France, and we get to begin a new week together as children of the New Covenant. Thanks be to God!

 

Amen.

 

 

 

Our Feet Have Not Slipped

Text:  Psalm 66:1-12

Theme:  "Our Feet Have Not Slipped"

21st Sunday After Pentecost

October 13, 2013

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

 

+In the Name of Jesus+

 

¹Make a joyful noise to God, all the earth;

²sing the glory of his name;

give to him glorious praise.

³Say to God, "How awesome are your deeds!

Because of your great power, your enemies cringe before you.

⁴All the earth worships you;

they sing praises to you,

sing praises to your name."

Selah

⁵Come and see what God has done:

he is awesome in his deeds among mortals.

⁶He turned the sea into dry land;

they passed through the river on foot.

There we rejoiced in him,

⁷who rules by his might for ever,

whose eyes keep watch on the nations-

let the rebellious not exalt themselves.

Selah

⁸Bless our God, O peoples,

let the sound of his praise be heard,

⁹who has kept us among the living,

and has not let our feet slip.

¹⁰For you, O God, have tested us;

you have tried us as silver is tried.

¹¹You brought us into the net;

you laid burdens on our backs;

¹²you let people ride over our heads;

we went through fire and through water;

yet you have brought us out to a spacious place.

 

Out of the twelve verses here in Psalm 66, we now zero in on just two of them:  verses eight and nine:  "Bless our God, O peoples, let the sound of his praise be heard, who has kept us among the living, and has not let our feet slip."  Our feet have not slipped!

 

When feet slip, the person who owns the feet is, more than likely,  headed for a tumble.  When feet slip, balance is  -- fully or partially -- lost.  When your feet slip, look out;  you are in a vulnerable position.  When you walk, briskly and confidently, on a sidewalk, you pay little mind to the possibility of slipping.  But put an inch or two of ice on the pavement, and the body -- almost instinctively -- senses danger, and precautions are therefore taken so that the feet do not slip out from under us.  No one wants to be in that unfortunate situation where about the only thing to say is "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up."

 

The good news for today, as we head into a time of thinking about how we use what we have been given (the traditional term for that is "stewardship"), is that our feet have not slipped.  Here at First Presbyterian Church, there have surely been times in our one hundred thirty five years when we were unsteady.  There were situations when we had to walk more carefully.  Sometimes we were very weak, and we couldn't take brisk strides.  Sometimes we had to stay still just to maintain balance.  At the other times, we were our own worst enemy, and, to carry the analogy through, we shot ourselves in the foot.   But the good news for today is that our feet have not slipped.  The doors have not been closed, and the mission has not been scuttled.  That is good news  -- and it illustrates the happy truth that our feet have not slipped. 

 

In Psalm 66, our text, the talk of the feet not slipping is in reference to the Exodus.  The Israelites walked through the Red Sea on dry land.  Verse six says: "(God) turned the sea into dry land; they passed through the river on foot. There we rejoiced in God."  And, again, verse eight and nine:  "Bless our God, O peoples, let the sound of his praise be heard, who has kept us among the living and has not let our feet slip."  That's good news!

 

The not-so-good news is that there are still plenty of "Pharaoh"s out there seeking to put us in bondage.  Our feet may yet slip.   Ice is accumulating on the pavement.  There are any one of a number of brightly-lit, neon-colored detours that would pull us away from following our Lord and Master.  It's as if we're walking a tightrope. Our feet could slip, and we'd fall into the trap of growing doubt.  We doubt that God loves us and maybe even doubt God exists.  On such a slippery slope, we find ourselves playing church but not being church. We might affiliate with the church, but, otherwise, we are commitment-phobic.  "Once bitten, twice shy", as they say.   Outwardly, we put on our Sunday best and muster up our politeness.  But inwardly, we smirk and we roll our eyes -- at God and one another -- and think to ourselves:  "Is it really worth it?  What difference does it make?"  In the early church, outsiders looked at the church and said:  "See how they love one another!" In the modern church, outsiders look at the church and could rightly exclaim:  "See how they drag one another into court!"  Yes, it surely seems that we walk on a tightrope.

 

Then the church looks out on the world in general and the American culture in specific.  There are a lot more cars and a lot less patience. There is a lot more skepticism and a lot less confidence -- from Washington D.C. all the way down to city hall.  Everything is -- to borrow the title of a popular TV program -- "Breaking Bad", and people seek to numb the spiritual and mental pain with a bottle, a pill, a needle, a fix, or some way of escape.  Meanwhile, there are more than enough folk who are there to help you find that escape.  Bob Dylan called such a person the "mystery tramp":

 

You said you'd never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He's not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And say do you want to make a deal?

When you make such a deal, watch your feet; they're slipping. But I'm here to tell you, First Presbyterian Church:  tightrope or not, our feet have not slipped.  Iced pavement or dry, our feet have not slipped.  Oh yes, we could wish that every seat in this sanctuary were filled.  With a wisp of nostalgia, we could think back on those days when there were four times as many people here of a Sunday.  As our median age approaches retirement, we can yearn for young families.  We can scratch our heads and wonder why Grandpa and Grandma's Presbyterian Church doesn't attract the young millennial generation.

 

Trust me.  The young people know something of what it means to live in a spiritual wasteland.  Church or not, they've grown up on the skepticism of this culture which is as pervasive as the air we breathe.  No trumpeting of family values is going to change that. They'll see right through the way some churches have of quietly excluding the people that they really don't want.  Certainly, they will be attracted for a time with rock and roll, good time, plastic-banana Christianity. They'll feel good for a time at an all-things-to-all-people, all-inclusive kind of church that caters to their every whim and fancy, and that serves a continental breakfast and has a fully-staffed nursery.  But when life hands them bitter pills, when they lose a parent, when their best friend in high school (a soldier) comes back in a box from Afghanistan, all of that "happy Jesus" stuff isn't going to do the trick.   I've read the literature, and the young millennials are telling us:  "Don't 'play' church, BE the church.  Give us something to hold on to."

 

First Presbyterian Church, our feet have not slipped -- because we have something to hold on to. We have the Gospel; we have the sacraments; we have the prayer -- and the way of prayer -- that Jesus taught.  We have music -- a "style"of music, if you will -- that does more than entertain:  it edifies.  We have people who suit up and show up -- in good times and in bad, in season and out of season, tightrope or not -- because they've been touched by something they cannot see.  Yet, it is the most real thing in their lives. It is the grace and love of God for them that never fades and never withers.  You want to know why our feet have not slipped?  That's why. 

 

What does this accomplish?  Well, it produces a people who are not afraid to share ideas, folks who are willing to ask, who are willing to venture risks because the mission is more important than what people think about it.  As a result, six months later, a team from our church heads to Haiti on a mission trip -- borne along by your prayers and your gifts and your enthusiasm.   I could spend entire sermon and more telling you stories about people outside our congregation whose jaws have dropped in amazement at how a church of our size could do such a thing. 

 

Yes, we have a mortgage payment.  Yes, we have to keep the lights on.  Yes, you pay me faithfully every two weeks.  But think of this, we also house a little school that love built -- Denton Christian Preschool -- that gives the neediest of the needy pre-Kindergarten students in our community a fighting chance.  Ask Judy Royal. Those kids come back; they remember; they thank God that this little preschool did what it did.  All we do is give it a home, and we can do more. 

 

Now, more recently, we have opened our door to the program of Alcoholics Anonymous. We've given the leaders  a safe place to do what they do:  help people recover from a cunning, baffling, and powerful disease that, unchecked, will kill their minds, souls, and bodies.  And most recently, we have added the Al-anon program so that the loved ones and friends of the alcoholic and addict can, themselves, recover. 

 

And how about the Presbyterian Women organization?  Words fail me.  The list of causes and organizations they  support is incredibly long. Their generosity has planted seeds and has spread like a gentle rain on this spiritually dry world. 

 

Finally, ministers of the Word and Sacrament, pastors, various clergy, and elders -- myself included -- spend a lot of time thinking and even fussing and fretting over what the church has not done and what it could do.  What it has not done is in the past.  What it could do is in the future.  As I read our text, I was reminded of all the things the crucified and risen Lord is doing among us right now in the present.  So, as the psalmist said, "Bless our God, O peoples, let the sound of his praise be heard, who has kept us among the living, and has not let our feet slip."

 

Amen.

 

 

 

Some Great Truths About Your Faith

Text:  2 Timothy 1:1-14

Theme:  "Some Great Truths About Your Faith"

20th Sunday After Pentecost

October 6, 2013

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

 

+In the Name of Jesus+

 

Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, in keeping with the promise of life that is in Christ Jesus,

² To Timothy, my dear son:

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

³ I thank God, whom I serve, as my ancestors did, with a clear conscience, as night and day I constantly remember you in my prayers. ⁴ Recalling your tears, I long to see you, so that I may be filled with joy. ⁵ I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also.

⁶ For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands. ⁷ For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline. ⁸ So do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord or of me his prisoner. Rather, join with me in suffering for the gospel, by the power of God. ⁹ He 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, ¹⁰ but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our Savior, Christ Jesus, who has destroyed death and has brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. ¹¹ And of this gospel I was appointed a herald and an apostle and a teacher. ¹² That is why I am suffering as I am. Yet this is no cause for shame, because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until that day.

¹³ What you heard from me, keep as the pattern of sound teaching, with faith and love in Christ Jesus. ¹⁴ Guard the good deposit that was entrusted to you—guard it with the help of the Holy Spirit who lives in us.

 

Ours is a consumer culture.  As a member of congress said years ago, "There's a whole lot of consumin' goin' on out there!"  At the same time,  our culture likes to have lots of choices -- from trim levels on late model cars to different kinds of yogurt.  We consume and we choose; we choose and we consume.

The same holds true when it comes to faith.  We want faith to nourish us and sustain us.  We consume it, you might say.   Moreover, we want faith in God made to order.  If believing in Jesus Christ as Savior of sinners is good for you, then fine.  You stick with it.  If that doesn't meet your felt needs, you could try something else.  Maybe you could become a Bahai practioner.  Perhaps deism is the route go.  And then there's good old mother nature.  She does give us nice sunsets and rainbows and seasonal rains and so forth, but she seems angry with us these days over our profligate use of fossil fuels. 

If mother nature or anything mentioned so far doesn't work,  come up with your own higher power to depend on.  You take a little Christianity because God's grace is nice.  You take some Judaism because you've got to have something of a moral code.  You can borrow from the Mormons since they seem to know a few things about family values.  Discipline and fervency in a disordered and lukewarm world?  Perhaps Islam -- and its Islamic "kismet" --  has something to say.  And meditation?  Well, you can't beat Buddhism for that.  So faith becomes -- as it has for an increasing number of folk -- whatever we've added it up to be.  But a faith that we've cobbled together is a wobbly faith at best and sheer idolatry at worst.  To use the analogy of our Lord's parable, wobbly faith builds it's house on the sand, but genuine faith is build on a rock.  Genuine faith is like a diamond.  Wobbly faith is silly putty.

If your faith in the God who sent Jesus is strong today, then today's message will be a review.  If, on the other hand, your faith is wobbly, or shaky, or if you're unsure of it, then I have good news for you. There are some great truths about faith that emerge from our New Testament Reading:  2 Timothy, chapter 1. 

Along with the books of 1 Timothy, Titus, and Philemon, 2 Timothy is one of the so-called "pastoral" epistles.  In other words, it's a letter written from one pastor to another.  In today's reading, the writer is Paul and the recipient or reader is a young clergy named Timothy.  So Pastor Paul has fired off a letter to Pastor Tim.  He was in prison when he wrote it. 

Here's a great truth to start with:  your faith in God may put you in places you didn't plan on being.  It may land you  in the White House -- as it did for Billy Graham.  It may land you in prison -- as it did for the apostle Paul.

Here's a second great truth:  faith is not, in the end, a matter of human will or choice.  Paul says that he was an apostle by the "will of God."  It wasn't his own will; it was God's.

Here's another great truth about faith:  faith is active in prayer for the benefit of others.  The word our text uses is "constantly."  "Constantly I remember you in my prayers," says Pastor Paul to Pastor Tim.

Another great truth:  faith is often like a cherished heirloom:  it gets handed down.  Paul says to Timothy:  "I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also."

Here's yet another great truth:  faith can be strengthened.  The words of Paul are as follows:  "Fan into flame" the gift of faith.  Last weekend, I spent some time in a blacksmith shop at a living history museum set in the 1850s timeframe.   The blacksmith was making nails. There was this big blower that the blacksmith kept pumping. It would direct the air to the coals, and the coals would then heat up. What is it that fires up your faith in God?

There is more.  Another great truth is this:  faith is powerful, loving, and disciplined.  Those are words right out of the text.  Aren't people looking for more power, love, and discipline in the world and in themselves?  Go back to the source; go back to faith!

Another truth:  faith is not ashamed of the Gospel -- or, as St. Paul describes it, the"testimony."  Faith does not apologize for itself -- even in this politically-correct culture where matters of faith are considered offensive by some.  For that matter, faith doesn't talk about itself.  It always points away from itself to its object:  the grace and love of the God who sent Jesus!

There is yet more.  Faith recognizes that there will be suffering.  Yes, you heard it correctly; there will be suffering.  What is this if not gut-level honesty?  Where does it say in the Bible, if anywhere, that we are going to sail through life on flowery beds of ease?  Faith is not sound asleep dreaming of some utopian world where there is no suffering.  That  world does not exist.  Genuine faith is wide awake.  Genuine faith has 20/20 vision.  Genuine faith recognizes that there has, is, and will be suffering.  But worse than the suffering which faith acknowledges is the prospect of suffering alone.  "Join me," says Paul to Timothy, "in suffering for the Gospel by the power of God."

Here's  another great truth:  faith knows what it believes and it knows WHO it believes.  St. Paul says to Timothy:  "I know who I believe."  Contrast that to a lot of folks today who would say that they "believe", but they just don't know who or what they believe in.  Faith knows what it believes and who it believes.

There's more.  Faith  turns your life over to God, and you are convinced that you will be taken care of.  St. Paul says:  "I am convinced that God is able to guard what I have entrusted to Him."  And what did St. Paul entrust God with?  His life!

Finally, faith is to be kept and faith is to be guarded.   St. Paul writes:  "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."

That's it.  There you have them:  eleven great truths about your faith.  Much more could be said of them.  Countless sermons and sermon series and Bible studies could be based on them.  But one has to start somewhere.  And this all started so long ago when one person of faith shared with another person of faith some great truths about the faith. 

Amen.