Sermon Text: 2 Tim 1.5 Title: "A Grandmother's Faith"

Preached: October 4, 1998

I may have met more than one Eunice, in my roughly forty years, but I remember no Eunice as clearly as Eunice King. I might describe Eunice by giving her age and relevant data, but it might be better to say that Eunice looks, very much, to be who she is.

Beyond age, her features claim the work she has done: the deep furrows across her forehead and cheeks resemble the rows of her fields where she tilled. planted and reaped, for so many years, her family's sustenance. Her skin bears the glory of the sun, darkened deep like chocolate, like the rich soil which surrounded her six, and only six days every week. Her broad body, and wide hands show the years of honest labor. And her eyes sparkle, filled not with knowledge from a higher education, but with the bright gleam of wisdom, the wisdom which sees beyond the facade of modern life, the wisdom which knows to raise up children with good values, solid family relationships, and strong faith.

Memorable beyond all other characteristics, however, is her incredible nose. A broad, majestic nose, which claims a proud place across the center of her face, a nose for adults to respect, and for babies to grab on to. Especially noteworthy about Eunice King's nose, however, is the way it has appeared, with great frequency, in all the generations of her family, redundantly resplendent upon the faces of sons and daughters, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. When we peered inside the manger at the 1996 Children's Program to see little Kiara Ikifa Marie King, cast as the baby Jesus, Lynnette exclaimed, "She's got the King nose!"

When I think of the way people give parts of our physiology meaning as seats of our being -- we say brain for intellect, heart for emotion, or heart for endurance, or stomach for courage -- when I think of those labels, I have to believe that the receptacle of faith, at least in the King family, is in the nose. For just as Eunice has a nose for faith, and just as her nose has been passed down from generation to generation, so her faith has been passed down from generation to generation, from mother to child to grand-child.

It is wonderful to see Kiara in the Church, for she is Eunice's great - grandchild -- daughter of Pat, daughter of James, son of Eunice. It is awe-inspiring to think that she will grow up within a faith tradition which was passed to here through more than those few generations, but through all the mothers and grandfathers and all the great grandmothers and all the great great grandfathers, through years and centuries. There is faith, being planted in Kiara, like the seeds planted by Eunice in the brown furrowed soil of Antigua so many years ago.

It is wonderful to see faith planted in such a way because so often, as we journey through our world, we see a loss of faith. There is a vacancy which the faith of the church once filled in so many lives -- a void, a desert. And, to the eyes of the faith-filled, we see so many people so hungry for faith that they are filling themselves with the junk food of society; they consume, and are unsatisfied, and so they consume more, and are less satisfied, never knowing that they are unsatisfied because they have been filling themselves with cardboard instead of living bread, with diet cola instead of living water. They depend on so many other things, when we know that faith would be adequate to get them where they need to be. In our society, it is cause for rejoicing, when faith is passed from one generation to the next.

Therefore, when I read the first chapter of 2 Timothy, I am reminded of Eunice King. Not just because the writer refers to Eunice, the mother of Timothy, but because of the way faith is portrayed as a family heirloom, passed from one generation to the next, precious, valuable, prized. Lois passes faith to Eunice, who passes it to Timothy. Now the writer makes a request of Timothy: pass it on.

After all, is not faith something which is passed on?

Think for a moment, reflect. How did faith come into your life? God brought salvation, yes, but someone made you aware. Someone planted a seed. Someone watered that seed. Someone tended the growing flower of faith when it was no more than a tiny tendril. Can you remember the people who, maybe decades ago, nurtured that faith? I remember the folks from the first little church I went to: Phoebe Oakley with the fox fur around her neck: as four and five and six year olds we must have gone up to her every week and begged to see the little clip-mouth snip, snip snip at our fingers. And Audrey Kromis who took five and six and seven year olds into her children's and junior choirs: she taught us, taught me to sing. And the Kemmerers, who were always there teaching Sunday School, leading Youth Fellowship. There were so many who made sure that we, squirmy kids and unruly teens knew we were welcomed and part of the church.

How did faith come into your life? Who was it that fed you on stories of grace? Who was it that taught you how to hold a hymnal? Who showed you, by example, the meaning of the words you learned to sing? Who showed you how the gospel is alive? Who passed their faith on to you?

For faith is a precious thing, a valuable thing, a prized part of our lives, which must be passed down from generation to generation. And, my goodness, if there ever was a time it needs to be passed down, it certainly is now. For beyond the loss of faith we see around us, there has been a terrifying devaluation of children in our world. Those who once were worth so much, have begun to be worth so little. Children are no longer our future; they are a consumer market to target, or an exploitable resource, or a threat to public safety, or a distraction from more important things, or, far too often, innocent bystanders. And in a world where the values of our secular society infiltrate our churches, children have become devalued even in many Christian churches. Then how, how will faith be passed on from this generation to the next? I wonder.

The writer of our letter felt a need to "remind you to keep using the gift God gave you..." Maybe, we, too, need to be reminded, often, of the amazing blessings we have received.

We have been blessed: For, amazingly, from a time before our grandparents were born, from one generation to the next, our faith was passed like a very precious heirloom. Fathers and mothers, even if not blood kin, but fathers and mothers in spirit, gave seeds of faith, and watered those seeds and tended and pruned and watched as their children in spirit, the children of the next generation grew up in the faith. And somewhere along the line, someone did that for most of us, gave us the spirit we needed to bring us to this point in our lives, to this place this morning.

We have been blessed: for amazingly, we have been given a message which carries meaning, and purpose, and hope for the future; and we have been given so many ways to convey that meaning, yes in words and teaching, but in songs we sing together, and the ways we treat each other, the ways we welcome strangers, the way we make room for children, the way we show compassion, forbearance, tolerance, the discipline with which we face the world and the faithfulness we demonstrate in our giving.

And we have been blessed: for, amazingly, at a time when most members of First Baptist are the ages of Abraham and Sarah, we have been blessed with children and grandchildren, who have a need for the faith we can offer them.

We have been blessed with so many gifts: an incredible freedom, an amazing grace, a rich heritage of faithful ancestors and a promise of hope for generations to come, a bounty of resources and room to grow, the wisdom of years of experience and the energy of children. We have been blessed with so many gifts.

So, now, let those gifts grow, as small flames grow into a fire.