Pastoral Advice
A sermon by
2 Timothy 1:1-14
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SERMON: Pastoral Advice
“Keep your nose clean and your shoes shined.” “Never put off til tomorrow what you can do today.” “Don’t take any wooden nickels.” “Laugh often, and much.” “Don’t fight fire with fire; you’ll only end up with ashes.” “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
The world is full of advice, isn’t it? And, the world is full of those who are more than willing to offer advice. After all, Dear Abby and her twin sister made careers from doing it. Now, there’s some young woman named Carolyn Hax who occupies space in our local newspaper, giving advice to the lovelorn. I confess I don’t read it, though I do check out the accompanying cartoon. But then again, I’m a cartoon nut. Her target audience just doesn’t fit who I am, and life is too short to be spent on reading mindless drivel. But somebody’s obviously reading her stuff because she occupies a lot of space in the paper, and she’s been there for awhile.
And then, there’s Drs. Ruth and Phil. Somehow, I can understand the popularity of Dr. Ruth. But when it comes to Dr. Phil, I just don’t get it.
George Burns once said it’s too bad that all the people who really know how to run the country are busy doing other things, like driving taxi cabs and cutting hair. Lillian Hellman said that if she were to give advice to young writers, it would be not to listen to advice from writers. The Roman poet Horace is quoted as saying that whatever advice you give, be brief.
Well, I’m not sure that is the Apostle Paul’s style... to be brief. After all, he once put a young man to sleep during a lengthy sermon in a warm upstairs room. The man fell out a window and died. But fortunately for both of them, Paul was able to raise him from the dead. You’ll find that story in the Book of Acts, chapter 20. You can check it out. I wonder if that cured Paul of his long sermons. I doubt it.
We do know this: Paul was the Dr. Phil, Dr. Ruth, and Dear Abby of his day, all rolled up in one person. That seems to be especially true when it comes to his young friend Timothy, to whom Paul is quick to give advice. And since his second letter to Timothy is brief (I wonder what in the world came over him?), we might surmise that he went to the same school of philosophy as did Horace, the one who encouraged those who give advice to be brief. But then again, Paul might have just been short on writing paper.
On those occasions when they were together, I have a feeling that Paul filled Timothy’s ear full. “Do this, do that. Don’t do this, don’t do that.”
For two years I was the associate to Bill Tuck at First Baptist Church in Bristol, Virginia. The times I cherished the most were when Bill and I would go to lunch together. Generally, it was to an ice cream shop about a block from the church... until Bill had to give up ice cream because of kidney stones. There, over sandwiches and cokes, we would solve the problems of the world. Actually, we couldn’t even solve the problems of First Baptist Church, but we certainly tried! It was from these rich conversations that I came away with much of my understanding of what it means to pastor a congregation of people. So, if you don’t like the way I do things, take issue with Bill! Bill offered me great advice, but more than anything else, he modeled for me the behavior that is requisite for being a pastor.
I don’t know if Paul and Timothy ever made it to an ice cream shop, but then, Paul does talk about that thorn in the flesh. Kidney stones, perhaps?! I imagine they spent a lot of mealtimes talking about the challenges of serving Christ in a pagan world. Woven throughout the New Testament epistles are references to when they were together in their travels. It must have been like a rolling seminary to the young Timothy, so he had plenty of opportunity not only to talk with Paul but also see him in action.
Now, as he writes what we can only guess is his final letter to Timothy, Paul is in a Roman prison, and the end of his life is near. As he recounts later in this letter, “The time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (4:7).
But that doesn’t mean he’s ready to give up. Not just yet. He’s going to get in a few good licks before his time is up, and he doesn’t waste much time or paper in doing so, giving his young colleague Timothy plenty of good pastoral advice. There’s a lot of it here – advice from Paul. In fact, I could have made a three-point sermon out of it, but if I had we might not ever get to First Sunday Lunch. So let’s focus on just one thing Paul tells his young friend.
“Rekindle the gift of God that is within you,” he says to Timothy. “Rekindle the gift of God that is within you.”
Has Paul heard something about Timothy that we don’t know? Have the pressures of congregational life gotten him down? Is he tired of officiating funerals? Is he jaded about conducting weddings? Are there too many committee meetings? Is there conflict in the ranks, or pressures he just can’t endure anymore? Is his fire going out?
It can happen, you know.
Most of you are aware that it happened to me. After almost a decade of constant conflict in two different churches in different states, I finally reached a point where I was unable, emotionally or spiritually, to continue. It took me about two years to heal, but God in his mercy, and with an overwhelming grace that came just when I needed it most, saw fit to give me another try. Indeed, the gift of God that is within us can be rekindled and made new again.
Or it could be, judging from what Paul says, that there are those in the Christian community who have become ashamed of Paul? He is a jailbird after all. Maybe they have tried to bring Timothy into the situation and pull him away from his loyalty to Paul and his association with him. “Do not be ashamed, then, of the testimony about our Lord,” he counsels Timothy, “or of me his prisoner...” There may just be a lot going on here that we don’t know.
But we know this: for whatever reason, Paul is trying to jump-start his young minister friend. So how does he encourage Timothy to rekindle his faith? He reminds Timothy of that fateful day when his calling as a minister was confirmed by the laying on of hands. Does Timothy remember how it felt?
When you are kneeling, after awhile there is a burning in your legs from being in such an awkward position that long. But even more, there is a burning in your heart, the distinct feeling that these have become more than just human hands that are being placed on you. Somehow, they have taken on the very presence of God.
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Frederick Buechner, in his autobiography Now & Then, recounts the day of his ordination...
That spring, on the first of June, 1958, I was ordained in the chapel of the Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church, where some four and half years earlier I had heard George Buttrick give the sermons that had started me on my way. I sat by myself in the front pew feeling awkward and unreal. Dr. Muilenburg preached on Elijah’s handing his mantle over to Elisha. Dr. John Knox preached on two texts from Matthew. In one of them, Jesus commanded his disciples to go out into the world and proclaim the Gospel, Dr. Knox said, but in the other he told them that it would be better to have a millstone fastened around their necks and be drowned in the depths of the sea than to cause anyone who believed in him to sin. As I knelt there in the chancel with the hands of all the assembled ministers and elders heavy on my skull, I had no doubts, if I had ever had any before, that it was a risky as well as a holy trade that I had chosen.1
It is one of those seminal moments that you just can’t forget. Paul is telling Timothy that should he need a reminder as to his calling, remember that day when such a thing happened to him. Recall how it felt. Recollect the feelings of emotion that overwhelmed him. Let that be the catalyst, the wind of the Spirit that blows on that ebbing spark, which rekindles the gift of God that is in him.
For those of you who may be quite new to these pews, every summer, before our youth are sent out on their annual mission trip, we commission them to service. The central part of that commissioning is the laying on of hands. Around here, we have taken notice that in the early days of the church, this was done when the local congregation sent out its sons and daughters to share the gospel of Christ. So we do the same. We do not believe this is the sole purview of the ordained. We invite anyone who is led to do so to participate.
Last summer, one of our newer members came up to me when the worship service was completed and with tears in her eyes told me it was one of the most moving things she had ever seen in worship. My hope is that our young people do not take this experience lightly, for it is done with utmost seriousness.
Who knows? One day, one of our youth may look back on the time when he or she knelt before this very altar, and it will be the means by which faith is restored and hope is encouraged. It might just be the remembrance that rekindles the gift of God within.
It doesn’t have to be ordination, the formal laying on of hands. If your fire has gone out, recall those moments when you first sensed that God was flooding your heart with grace. You may have been a child or a teenager, or it might have occurred much later. Perhaps you had gone through a particularly stressful or difficult time, and as you came away from it you realized that God had brought you through.
It might have been your baptism. At the moment you emerged from the water you knew this was more than just taking a quick dip in front of a gathered group of people. You had made covenant before the whole hosts of heaven that life no more for you would be the same. You had been cleansed of what you had been before, you had been buried in the water to your old way of life, and now would be walking in the faith that leads to life eternal.
I would encourage you – which, of course, is a way of giving advice, isn’t it? – to go back through the pages of your life and put a bookmark on those moments when you felt God’s redeeming presence flooding you with a grace and love you did not deserve. After all, redemption isn’t just a once-in-a-lifetime experience. It can happen again and again, be rekindled on many an occasion. In fact, few of us would be able to stay with the faith if that were not true.
If the fire of your faith has been getting low, think of those times when God’s redemptive love began making its way into your heart and soul, and allow those remembrances to help you “rekindle the gift of God that is within you.”
It is indeed good advice, don’t you think?
Yes, Lord, we ask for a newness of faith for every person assembled here today. Rekindle within us that holy gift that only you can give. And then find us faithful in our testimony of what you have done for us. Through Christ our Lord we ask it, Amen.
Notes
1Frederick Buechner, Now & Then (San Francisco: Harper & Row Publishers, 1983), p. 39.
Copyright 2007, Randy L. Hyde. Used by permission.