The Park Road Pulpit
Sermons from Park Road Baptist Church
Russ and Amy Jacks Dean, Pastors
Pass the Jelly, Lois
2 Timothy 1:1-14
Amy Jacks Dean, October 7, 2001
My great-grandfather, Isaac Calamese Jacks and my great-grandmother Sudie Jacks, lived across the road from my father when my father was a boy – out in the country of Laurens County, SC. There were some Jacks relatives that lived in New Jersey – Uncle Vernon his crowd. They had some friends that each year journeyed from NJ to Florida. Uncle Vernon told his friends to stop in Clinton on the way for a good visit and a good meal. So these friends did – for several years in a row – though my father doesn’t refer to them as “friends,” he affectionately calls them “moochers.” So for several years the “moochers” would stop by Grandpa Jacks’ house and Grandma Sudie would prepare a big feast – I imagine it was fried chicken and thickening gravy, fatback and cornbread, homegrown tomatoes, corn, and green beans, absolutely no casseroles of any kind, but plenty of biscuits and homemade jelly. Now, the way my father tells this, back then – 70 years ago – parents didn’t fix the child’s plate first, cut everything up, get it cooled, have a special table set for the children, and have the ketchup ready to be squirted at the child’s command. No, that wasn’t how it worked at all! Children waited until the adults ate all they wanted – quietly so as to not to disturb the adult conversation or interrupt the visiting going on at the table. When the “moochers” came through each year – a feast was prepared that would make the children’s mouths water and they couldn’t wait for the adults to hurry up and finish so that they could eat. What the children especially enjoyed were the biscuits and homemade jelly. And all my father can remember overhearing at the adult dinner table as he awaited his turn to eat was “Pass the jelly, Lois.” Lois was the “moocher’s wife”. She was hard of hearing. It was something about the way the “moocher” said it – “Pass the jelly, Lois” - something about the fear that the jelly would be gone before my father got any – something about that phrase stuck with my father and even this morning, I can promise you he said to my mother, after he finished his scrambled egg and was ready for a piece of toast – “Pass the jelly, Lois” – and my mother’s name is not Lois! I say it, my brother says it, my sister says it, and many more nights spent at my parent’s house and my sons will be saying it. “Pass the jelly, Lois.”
I thought about that phrase as I read today’s text about Timothy and his mother Eunice and his grandmother Lois and thought about the fact that this is World Communion Sunday. As I considered the text in light of a word about Stewardship – a Stewardship of Family - and in light of a table that we will share in a few moments – I have concluded this: Our faith is pass-on-able. Now let me tell you how I got there.
Paul loved Timothy. He knew that Timothy was a good man, a faithful apostle – a true follower of Jesus. And Paul gave credit where credit was due. It is important to note the Timothy’s ancestry was not traced through his father, but was a maternal tracing of character. Paul knew the importance of the “intergenerational character of the mission of the church. He was wondering, as sociologists do today, how faith comes to be passed on from one generation to the other.” (Interpretation, Thomas C. Oden, pg 28)
It’s passed on much the same way that “Pass the jelly, Lois” was passed on. My daddy loves to say it, he loves to tell the story, he loves to hear us say it – as much as he loves to say “the Lord don’t love ugly” and “act like you’ve got parents.” He loves the phrase like he loves to rub his fingers together at the breakfast table and we all know that that means “I need another piece of toast.” I know about “Pass the jelly, Lois” because it has been passed on to me just like Timothy’s faith was passed on to him from his mother Eunice who got it from her mother Lois.
As Protestants, maybe especially as Baptists, we have proudly and boldly held to a theology of individualism that promotes each person accepting and believing for himself or herself anything about faith and God. We have supported the notion that you do the best can to teach the faith, but ultimately each tub sits on its own bottom, and we are all only accountable for what we accept and believe and what we don’t accept and what we don’t believe. And that is true – to a point. But today, I want to call us to do something extraordinary. I want to call us to embrace a Stewardship of Family. I want us pass our faith on to our children – believing that this is the only inheritance worth leaving.
We work so hard to provide the best for our children in every way – food, shelter, clothing, education, values and morals – and I am calling us to pass on our faith in a God who loves us unconditionally – a God who seeks justice and peace for all of God’s children – a God whose grace is indeed amazing.
We need to be having theological conversations with our children. We need to be talking about issues of faith with our teenagers. We need to be raising a generation in our church that yearns for the exploration of faith – that needs a community of faith where they are accepted and loved. I want people to need what can be found here and to crave what can be found here– not good preaching or good programming or good personel – but what is found here is God and a community of faith who seeks God, and I want all of God’s children (not just the small ones) to need that more than anything else.
Jackson, our 4 and ¾ year old, and I had a theological conversation following our baptismal service a couple of weeks ago. He was asking what I was wearing under that white robe it the water. I told him underwear. He was concerned that they may still be wet – I explained that I had planned ahead and packed an extra dry set. He felt better about that, but this exchange let me know that he was thinking. So I took that opportunity to ask him a few questions: “What does baptism mean?” I asked. “It means you follow Jesus,” he answered. “Oh, thank you God, I’m doing something right,” I thought to myself. Then he said, “But Mama, the other day you said you wanted me to be a leader. How can I be a leader and a follower?” What a great question! He said when he grew up he wanted to lead people to follow Jesus. He looked over at 3 year old Bennett, sitting in his carseat – oblivious to our conversation – and said, “Bennett, when you grow up do you want to lead people to follow Jesus?” Bennett replied, “Yea!”
I want to be having that conversation when they are 10 and 12 and when they are 16 and 18 and when they are 24 and 26 because I believe that my faith is pass-on-able. Just like Lois passed it to Eunice and Eunice passed it Timothy. I want to be having those conversations with your children. I want you to be having those conversations with your children. This is not just a word for parents and grandparents. This is a word for The Church. If the Church is to survive, we must believe that we can pass on the faith. So when you are called to teach our children or when you are called to keep our children, you should jump at the chance. And if you are not called, you should volunteer. But this is also a word to parents and anyone who gives significant care to children: spend time with them; listen for their good questions; engage them where they are in their thoughts and concerns; and for God’s sake, give them your faith.
Paul knew that the future of the church depended upon the transmission of faith – not just from Lois to Eunice and Eunice to Timothy – but from Timothy on to the next generation and on and on it goes even until today. I pray that we are good stewards of our families – that we are good stewards of the faith.
Lois and Eunice appear by name in only this one verse in all of Scripture, but what a powerful verse it is - given what we know about Timothy – he was highly respected by his elders and Paul saw something in this young man that caused him to invite Timothy to join in the missionary journeys. Joyce Hollyday, one of my favorite commentators, makes this observation:
It is not difficult to imagine Eunice and Lois rocking the infant Timothy to sleep in their arms, singing hymns of triumph, such as those that had come from the lips of Miriam, Deborah, and Mary, for lullabies. We can picture them vividly recounting tales of legendary strength and courage, introducing the young boy Timothy to the heroes of the faith, and teaching him to read and understand the scriptures. And when it came time for them to let go, they must have done so with pride and a flood of tears and prayers for his well-being. (Clothed With the Sun, page 135)
Do I make this sound simple? It is not. Is it too hopeful – too idealistic to believe that this just might work? Some would say yes. I say no. Will it always work? It’s worth the risk. When I look at the faith that was handed down to me – oh you can’t know how different my faith is now from the faith that was passed on to me – but I wouldn’t trade the foundation, the sincerity, and the hope that my family and my church had for me. On so many issues of theology I have strayed from what was passed on to me – but not the faith. Will there be some who will not accept what is passed on? Yes – at least for a time – maybe even a lifetime, but do you still pass on the faith? Yes. Just as sure as tomorrow morning my father will say to my mother “Pass the jelly, Lois” that’s how sure I am that we must pass on the faith to our children. The Church Universal, and this church in particular, will not survive without it.
Paul’s last words to Timothy in our passage for today were “hold to the standard of sound teaching . . . and guard the good treasure entrusted to you . . .” (Verse 14) I suggest that tomorrow morning as we eat our toast, we give God thanks – thanks for the grace of faith and thanks for the jelly. May it be so.