Three decades ago, the late pastor, scholar, and author
Eugene Peterson undertook the monumental project
of presenting the entire Bible in contemporary English.
The result, published nine years later as The Message,
is for me an arresting paraphrase of the timeless words
of scripture. In his introduction, Peterson writes of the
gradual realization that this project perfectly aligned
with his vocation as a pastor. He wrote, “I was always
looking for a way to make the Biblical text relevant to the
conditions of the people I served.” This morning, I’d like to
share Peterson’s take on these verses from Paul’s letter to
Timothy. Listen for God’s word.
Get the word out. Teach all these things. And do not let
anyone put you down because you are young. Teach
believers with your life: by word, by demeanor, by love,
by faith, by integrity. Stay at your post reading Scripture,
giving counsel, teaching. And that special gift of ministry
you were given when the leaders of the church laid
hands on you and prayed—keep that dusted off and in
good use. Cultivate it. Immerse yourself in it. The people
will see you mature right before their eyes! Keep a firm
grasp on both your character and your teaching. Don’t be
diverted. Keep at it. Both you and those who hear you will
experience salvation.
This is the word of the Lord.
Fifteen years ago, Princeton Seminary professor and
Methodist pastor Kenda Creasy Dean published a
book on the faith of America’s teenagers. Her title is
telling. Almost Christian. Dean, following sociologist
Christian Smith, describes the dominant faith system of
our youth as Moralistic Therapeutic Deism.
Simply put, this belief system:
1. Teaches us to be good and nice to others (Moralism).
2. Assumes that faith exists to keep us happy and solve
our problems (Therapeutic).
3. Imagines God as distant, largely uninvolved in our daily
lives, and only present when we need help (Deism).
It is a faith that asks little of us and expects little from
God—one that might be comforting but is ultimately not
very compelling. In fact, Dean argues that such a shallow
faith will fail us whenever life becomes complex, doubts
and questions arise, or crisis comes. And crisis will come.
I think her most significant finding is this one: we get what
we are. In other words, the faith we model is the faith
our children inherit. Dean writes: “It is common for us to
understand Christianity as a set of religious ideals and not
a life-giving identity. We Christian parents would say we
trust Jesus, but our lives tell a different story. Look at our
overscheduled calendars, our insatiable consumerism,
our relentless anxiety…we’re as vulnerable to these idols
as anybody else. Our kids know us for who we really are.
One glance at our lives tells the truth.”
Regardless of what we say we believe, the way we live is
the best measure of what truly matters to us. We get what
we are.
So, how do we cultivate a faith that stands the test
of time? How do we cultivate a faith that matures as
the years pass? How do we cultivate a faith that gives
meaning and purpose in the messiness and pain of life?
Perhaps we listen to the voices of the young people
among us.
In seven days, next Sunday, we will hear poignant words
from Paul’s second letter to his young protégé Timothy
in which the Apostle Paul, in the latter years of his life,
reflects on the wisdom he has gained through decades
of ministry. This week, the author and the audience are
the same, but the focus is different. In this morning’s text,
we find Paul celebrating young Timothy’s faith and urging
him to make full use of the gifts God has given him.
I would suggest that Timothy has much in common
with many of the youth in our congregation. You see,
even though the Christian movement was still in its early
stages, Timothy is a third-generation disciple of Jesus.
He received this faith from his grandmother, Lois, and his
mother, Eunice. In other words, Timothy is a child of the
church. He was raised in the Christian community. Faith is
a part of his identity, his self-understanding.
And, according to his mentor, Timothy is now ready
to lead. Paul’s words offer encouragement and high
expectations. I love Peterson’s translation because it
captures the richness of the language. He reminds
Timothy of that powerful moment (think Confirmation)
when he was received into the church, and Paul implores
Timothy to “cultivate these gifts”…to immerse himself in
them. In another translation, the instruction is “do not
neglect the gift that is in you.”
There is urgency in Paul’s command to Timothy. These
are not suggestions. The Greek better translates: You
must not ignore, you must not abandon, the blessing
that has been given to you. You must cultivate that gift.
And the Church must offer a place and an invitation for
children and youth to immerse themselves in the deep
waters of faith.
We do that best by listening. We do that best by living
authentically. We do that best by sharing our faith and
our doubt. We do that best by engaging the world that
God longs to redeem, by intentionally moving faithfully
from worship to work. This is the role of the Christian
community—to live intentionally together in ways that
form deeper faith in each of us.
I speak to you now about a topic that means a great deal
to me, that matters deeply in my own life and ministry.
One of Professor Dean’s concerns about the faith being
passed from one generation to the next is the lack of
thick Christian communities of practice. And I would
suggest that in the years since her book was published,
the concern has been compounded by accelerating
societal shifts. In his 2024 book The Anxious Generation,
social psychologist Jonathan Haidt examines the rising
anxiety and mental health challenges among Gen Z.
Haidt attributes significant influence to the pervasive
use of smartphones and social media. Haidt contends
that the transition from a “play-based” childhood to a
“phone-based” childhood has led to increased concerns
of every kind. Among them is this reality: that play, by its
very nature, is communal. Play involves others. Friends,
neighbors, classmates, colleagues. By contrast, our
relationships with our devices are, by their very nature,
individual. They drive isolation and disconnection in the
real world. Haidt goes on to emphasize the essential
value of genuine community that fosters real-world
interaction and provides a moral framework for values
rooted in those communities. Values and virtues that are
practiced together.
When I read his words, I think of Timothy and of
his grandmother. I think of the grandmother in our
congregation who has promised her grandchildren that
she is willing to be their chauffeur, to drive them anywhere
they want to go, with one rule. Their phones cannot be
used so long as grandma is driving. This guarantees
interaction across the generations. You have to talk to
grandma in the car.
When I read Haidt’s description of genuine community, I
think of Timothy and his grandmother, and I think of you.
Among the many strengths of religious congregations
is our steadfast commitment to intergenerational
community. I am proud of this emphasis on uniting
folks across the life cycle, and of the lives that have
been nourished, the faith that has been formed, and the
vocational paths that have been discovered through these
ministries. Think of this. When we gather in this space
on Sunday mornings, every generation currently living is
represented. This is a profound gift and an increasingly
rare experience in a time when so much of our lives is
stratified by generational identity.
But it must be about more than that. You see, our gathering
in the same building at the same time might provide the
opportunity for engagement, but it does not guarantee it.
Each time I meet with the parents of a baby who will be
baptized at our font, I describe the questions that we ask
as part of the baptismal liturgy. The first, “Do you desire
that your child be baptized?” is a formality. I always tell
the parents they really need to say yes to that one or else
there’s an awkward moment here on the chancel.
The second question, “By God’s grace, will you live the
Christian faith and teach that faith to your child?” is a
profound promise. There’s a reason we ask about living
the faith first. As parents, living the values of our faith is the
single greatest factor in the formation of the faith of our
children. But parents are not the only ones who answer a
question in the liturgy for baptism. You, the congregation,
make a promise to guide and nurture the newly baptized.
And when I meet with parents, I always tell them what I
know from pastoral and parental experience. That you,
the congregation of Second Church, take that promise
seriously. You will show up in their lives. You will embrace
their presence. You will listen to their wisdom. You will
welcome their gifts, encouraging and nurturing them at
every turn. And then, parents, here’s the hard part: and
then we send them.
It happens every year. These babies grow, and one day
the time comes for them to make their own commitment
to faith, to speak the words that have shaped their faith,
to profess their belief. And then, we send them off into the
world to pursue the paths where God calls them. As they
do, we trust that the efforts of our congregation have not
been in vain. We trust that their faith will be strong, and
that they will not abandon the gifts that God has given
them. That when pain and difficulty come—and they will
come—the faith formed in this place will be enough to
sustain them. That’s why we cultivate these gifts. That’s
why we immerse ourselves in them.
So church, please hear this. It’s a truth Paul knew deep
in his heart. Our children are watching how we as
individuals, as a church, and as a society, live the faith
we profess. It will not do to speak the words and pray the
prayers and then abandon all Christian virtue when you
leave this sacred space. It will not do. You and I must not
pay lip service to the value of community only to separate
into echo chambers of isolation when we depart each
other’s company. If we fail to act as followers of Jesus in
the world beyond these walls, if our lives are marked by
hypocrisy and not humility, if our worship ends at the
doors of the sanctuary, if our congregations are captive
to the idolatry of power at any cost, the future of our faith
is bleak indeed. And I must report that there are worrying
signs of this around us.
But these signs do not tell the whole story. From where
I stand, quite literally, I see something else happening. I
see children, youth, and young adults eager to learn and
ready to lead. I see a faith sturdy enough to stick. I hear it.
The compassion of Christ calling to the next generations
seeking ways to serve others. I hear it. The Spirit of Christ
speaking to their longing for deeper meaning. And I
know this. The church that channels that compassion,
the church that gives voice to that Spirit, the church that
listens to that longing, can build a future that is deeply
faithful and morally coherent, where character is formed,
and the truth is valued.
And so, the message is clear. We get what we are. So,
know this. Our children are watching—how we live, how
we speak, how we show up. How will we respond? Time
will tell. Time will tell.
Let us pray.
Oh, Lord, we believe.
Help our unbelief.
In Jesus’ name. Amen.