"Disciples Take Their Faith Home" (October 5, 2025 Sermon)
/Text: 2 Timothy 1:1-14
Let me start by saying that today’s passage from 2 Timothy contains one of your pastor’s favorite passages in the entire New Testament. “Guard the good treasure entrusted to you, with the help of the Holy Spirit living in us.” I’ve always loved that passage because I believe “guarding the good treasure entrusted to us” is at the heart of discipleship. When cruelty rears its ugly head, we guard the good treasure of compassion. When selfishness and greed dominate, we guard the good treasure of generosity. When fear is weaponized to turn neighbor against neighbor, we guard the good treasure of inclusion. When death cosplays as the final word, we guard the good treasure of the Resurrection. That is our work as disciples. And we don’t guard these things to hoard them. No, it’s quite the opposite. We guard these treasures to share them generously.
And here’s the thing. You and I guard these life-giving gifts from God because we stand on the shoulders of those who raised us in the faith and taught us to follow God with all our heart, soul, and might. Today’s passage specifically references two women who have served in that capacity for the recipient of this letter.
But let’s back up a bit. 1st and 2nd Timothy were both written by Paul, or more precisely, by a follower of Paul who wrote in his style and in his honor. One reason this is a popular passage is because of its enthusiastic encouragement and positivity, despite the 'suffering' the author mentions. We believe that the letters of 1st and 2nd Timothy were composed by an elder leader of the early church for a much younger leader. Think of it as a letter of encouragement from a retiring pastor to a new seminary graduate about to take her first call.
I believe the tone of this letter resonates with us because we all need encouragement right now. I’ve had some truly uplifting conversations with many of you over the past few weeks—conversations with congregants on the left, right, and middle. And there’s a common thread among all of them: everyone is exhausted and anxious. No matter where we stand on the political or theological spectrum, we are all disheartened by the division and hostility of our current body politic. We need each other. We need each other’s listening ears. We need each other’s curiosity. We need each other’s compassion. We need each other’s compromise. And the tone of this letter may seem a little naive or foreign in this time of scorched-earth rhetoric. So, my prayer is that we may each find a way for the encouraging message of this passage to soften our hearts. And another prayer is that we could each find a way to share that encouraging message with our neighbors.
My guess is that the author of this letter knew Timothy was about to start his early ministry because those around him expressed words of faithfulness and encouragement as he grew in the early church. The names of these voices are given to us: Lois and Eunice. The verse reads: “I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that first lived in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice; now, I am sure, it lives in you.” I especially appreciate this mention of two women who clearly played a vital role in Timothy’s faith development because 1 Timothy is infamous for its statement that women “should learn in quietness and full submission.” This passage has, of course, been used over the centuries as a blanket argument to keep women out of the pulpit and other leadership roles in the church. I trust you know that I do not subscribe to that patriarchal theology. One of the many reasons I don’t is because this verse from 2 Timothy names Lois, Timothy’s grandmother, and Eunice, his mother, as key parts of his faith journey. The author describes faith as a living thing, something that first lived in Eunice and Lois and now lives in him, largely due to their influence on his ministry.
And so, whenever I come to this verse, I’m inspired to name in gratitude the women in my family who have inspired, and continue to inspire, me as a disciple. I think about my grandmother, Gaye, who is celebrating her 90th birthday this month. She taught me so much about the importance of being a decent and generous person who isn’t afraid to take a risk to do the right thing. I think about my mother, Catherine, who taught me that creativity is a gift to be shared, and that having deep feelings can be a powerful way to connect with those who feel alone or hurting. I think, too, of my younger sister, Sarah Kate, who has a deep, deep capacity for joy, silliness, and compassion that make me a better brother, pastor, husband, and dad. And I would also add my daughters, Hazel Grace and Winnie, to that list. They have taught me resiliency, kindness, courage, and patience.
This passage can remind us that our nuclear families are powerful places for faith formation. To this day, I can still recite how my parents would end our prayers before meals: “Gracious God, we ask that this food might nourish our bodies that we may do the work of thy Son." I remember the pride I felt when my grandparents stood up to a pastor in their home congregation in Huntington, West Virginia, when he tried to expel all the gay people from that congregation. I remember having conversations about faith and the Bible around the dinner table, such as the ones at my grandparents' home, where they often hosted a Jewish family, the Weisbergs, who had been very close with our family over the years. That was where I learned the importance of respecting other faith traditions and practicing our own without forcing it upon others. Indeed, I stand before you as a pastor because of my family's dedication to the church of Jesus Christ.
And here, I want to acknowledge and honor a particularly painful subject for many among us. I am deeply aware that many of us mourn the fact that our children or grandchildren do not practice the faith they were raised in, or at least do not practice that faith in the same way. I’ve sat with more of you than I can count who lament that families are now divided not just over political differences, but also over theological and spiritual ones. I don’t have any simple answers for that—at least none I can explain succinctly in this sermon. But I want to say, as your pastor, that I honor that pain in you.
That's why I believe it’s important that, when we affirm that “disciples take their faith home,” we’re not just talking about our blood relatives. I think it’s crucial to remind ourselves that when we commit to discipleship, we expand our definition of family. That's why, when I think about those who have raised me in the faith, I don’t just think of my parents, grandparents, and sibling. I also think of Peter Hobbie, my religion professor in college who taught me to fall in love with the Bible all over again. I think of Anna Carter Florence, my preaching professor who lovingly pushed me to become a better preacher. I think of Michael Morgan, my friend who taught me the art of writing hymns. I think of Lynn Franklin, a former congregant of mine who showed me the importance of interfaith relationships and how diversity makes us stronger, not weaker. I think of Carolyn Sherrick, whose generosity still inspires me today. I think of Jane Lawrence, whom we said goodbye to about a year ago, whose kindness was a treasured presence at this church.
I was not biologically related to any of those folks I just mentioned, but they influenced my faith just as much as those blood relatives I also named. And that’s the beauty of our faith. Disciples carry their faith home while giving thanks that home is where you make it. Family is both inherited and chosen. Just as Christ made his home wherever he wandered, we are called to take our faith wherever we see the world’s needs.
Last week, many of us gathered in this very room—either in person or online—to sing happy birthday to Marie Franklin on her 100th birthday and Landon Bryant on his twelfth. I was moved when we started singing, and Marie reached out to hold Landon’s hand. It was a touching scene—one of our oldest members and one of our youngest connected by a faith we’ve inherited. As Marie and Landon held hands during the song, I was reminded that this is part of the precious treasure entrusted to us: an intergenerational church.
Later that same day, Landon and I gathered in the baptismal pool at First Baptist Church to celebrate his baptism. If you’ve never been in First Baptist’s sanctuary, the baptismal pool is somewhat high up above the choir at the front. As such, Landon and I were literally looking down on those gathered to celebrate his baptism and to make the public promise to nurture him in the faith, just as Lois and Eunice did for young Timothy. The picture you see on the TV is exactly what Landon and I saw as he was baptized. Before Landon submerged in the waters of his baptism, I invited him to take a moment and appreciate this view. I said, “Landon, I want you to look down and take a look at your faith family. These people are here because they love you. These people are here because God loves you. These people are here because they are making a promise this day to raise you in the faith—to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God.”
And so, friends, I hope that you and I can give thanks today for the way God calls us to take our faith home in diverse ways. I hope you can take some time this week to thank the Loises and the Eunices who have helped bring you to where you are today. Mr. Rogers once said, “In fact, from the time you were very little, you've had people who have smiled you into smiling, people who have talked you into talking, sung you into singing, loved you into loving.” May we give thanks today for those people and to the God who has lovingly placed them in our lives.
In the name of God the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, may all of us, God’s children, say: Amen.