Sermons
December 8, 2024 (2nd Sunday of Advent)
Too Much Information
2 Timothy 4:1-5
Many years ago I read a story—I don’t remember where, although it might have been in one of the late Tony Campolo’s[1] books—about a preacher in a huge, multi-racial church in the deep South, not too long after the civil rights demonstrations that brought an end to legalized segregation[2] in this country. This preacher was asked how it happened that this church in the deep South was so large and so racially mixed. He said that it hadn’t always been like that.
When he first started there, it was a white church filled with people who spent some of their spare time wearing white hoods and lighting crosses. On his first Sunday, that idealistic young pastor stepped into the pulpit and said he’d studied the Scriptures and realized segregation is contrary to the gospel.
During that first week, some folks came to him and said, “You can’t preach that—if you do, people will leave.” And sure enough, the next Sunday there weren’t as many people there as the week before.
This led him to realize he had hit a nerve—so that Sunday he preached the very same sermon again. He got threats. He ignored them. Sunday after Sunday he kept on preaching that same sermon, each week to fewer people than the week before.
Finally, he said, “I preached that church down to two people.” But, he said, “they were two Christians.”
After that the church began to grow, as more and more people looking for an alternative to racism and segregation visited and stayed.
It would be awfully easy for a preacher to tell that story in a way that makes it seem like they were bringing Jesus and the Bible to their side to gang up on the congregation. Too easy, and I’m not going to do it. But the story makes a point about something we hear in our text for today.
The author of 2 Timothy, who claims to be Paul but probably isn’t—not that he’s a liar; it was common in the first century to write under another person’s name, perhaps in this case to imagine how Paul’s teaching could be applied in his time and place—says that Timothy is going to be preaching the gospel to people who don’t want to hear it. In fact, what he says is that the people Timothy is going to preach to will be looking for someone who will tell them what they want to hear, what makes them feel good, what affirms their choices—and if that’s not the gospel, then they won’t listen to the gospel.
I have a feeling people left the church I just talked about because they had gotten used to hearing what they wanted to hear from the pulpit. They had gotten used to their preachers avoiding the subject of segregation, or even affirming that the folks in the congregation were right to want segregation to continue. This new preacher wasn’t willing to do that, because he had studied the Scriptures and was convinced that Jesus Christ would not approve of segregation.[3] Because he wanted to be true to Scripture and to the gospel of Jesus Christ, he had to preach what he believed he was called to preach, whether the congregation approved of it or not.
But still, I’m not trying to use this text to beat up on anybody. You see, I think it’s speaking to all of us as ministers of the gospel, not necessarily just to us who are preachers and teachers. Every single one of us, as we know, is a minister. Every single one of us, from oldest to youngest, richest to poorest, most educated to least educated, is called to proclaim the gospel of Jesus Christ in whatever way we’re able. And we are all called to proclaim it to a world that is not a bit different from what was described in this text.
The passage talks about people with “itching ears.” That was a familiar term for the readers of this letter. It referred to an insatiable curiosity or desire for novelty. Anything old, traditional, tried-and-true, was abandoned in favor of whatever new thing came down the line.
Maybe the situation was like what has happened in this country in the last half-century or so as Christians, who belonged to a faith with a tradition of spiritual practices intended to bring depth and meaning (but which I’d argue we Protestants, at least, didn’t do a very good job of teaching), left the church in favor of Eastern religions, transcendental meditation, whatever appeared to be “new” and different.[4] And when they discovered that those things also took work, and discipline, and weren’t any easier than the Christian path they had stepped off of, they went in search of something else, New Age stuff, assorted “pagan” practices that claimed to be a resurrection of old religious faiths but which probably wouldn’t be recognizable by those who might have practiced such things centuries ago,[5] crystals,[6] and such.
There’s an example of people with “itching ears” in the book of Acts. It’s the story of Paul preaching in Athens—remember how he talked about the altars devoted to various gods, even one dedicated “to an unknown God”?[7]
Paul went in and said, “I know that ‘unknown God,’” and proceeded to tell them about God made known in Jesus Christ. The people listened politely, and took him to the marketplace where more folks could hear. But only a few were truly converted to Christianity. The rest were really just interested in whiling away an afternoon discussing a new idea.
The author of 2 Timothy was speaking to a preacher in the midst of a culture not a whole lot different from ours. These days there are so many “new ideas” out there, so much information, so much noise, that it’s hard to figure out what deserves our attention and what is garbage—or “slop,” as I read this week has become the term for the avalanche of assorted memes and low-budget AI that fills a lot of social media right now.
This writer told Timothy—and us—“This is reality; this is the world you live in.” You’ve signed on for a hard job. People aren’t always going to like what you have to say. Many of them won’t even hear it, as they rush from one new thing, one meme, one charismatic leader to another.
But in the part of the letter that comes before our reading for today, he reminded Timothy of his roots. You stand on the shoulders of your teachers—and he’s referred earlier to some of these: the author himself, as well as Timothy’s mother Eunice and grandmother Lois. And you have a guidebook in the Scriptures.
I’m not going to spend any time right now talking about that passage in 2 Timothy 3 about the inspiration and use of Scripture; it’s not part of our reading for today. Suffice it to say that Timothy is told the Bible is useful for teaching the faith and building up believers. The people of God, as we immerse ourselves in the study of Scripture, become equipped for ministry.
But all of this happens as we live and try to follow Jesus in a world full of itchy ears searching for what will make them feel better.
So in the midst of all this, how can we find peace? How can we discern what information, what advice, what voices around us are actually worth paying attention to? How can we quiet our minds and hearts enough so that we can hear and then speak the words of God?
We stand tall on the shoulders of our teachers—whoever they may be, whether our parents and grandparents, Sunday school teachers, mentors, even friends, and on the witness of Scripture. We seek regularly a quiet time in God’s presence, where the Holy Spirit can give us understanding. We come together as congregations to hear and respond to God’s Word, and to be support and guide to one another as we seek to be faithful disciples in the world in which we live.
Those ears are liable to keep itching, but as we stand firm and keep patiently proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ—as St. Francis said, using words when necessary but always through our lives—we just might, just might, get through.
In any event, what we’re called to do is be faithful, and trust God for the rest. That’s what true peace is.
[1] Tony, that faithful servant, passed away only a few short weeks ago, old and full of days. May his memory, like his life, be a blessing.
[2] The demonstrations, court rulings, and legislation of the 1950s and 1960s ended de jure (by law) segregation, but de facto segregation is a much harder thing to eradicate.
[3] Nor would Paul: his letter to the Galatians is a refutation of a type of “separate but equal” church structure that had crept into some of the early churches.
[4] “New” to them, perhaps; many of the quasi-Eastern spiritual practices these folks took up were rooted in Hinduism, which is the oldest of the world’s major religions.
[5] Go on YouTube and look for a video on the archaeological excavation of “Seahenge” for an example of some neo-Pagans in the wild.
[6] I keep seeing an ad wherein a woman claims to have been suffering from major depression until she signed up for a subscription that sends her various crystals each month. Now she can’t stop smiling. I don’t buy it. Geology is a fascinating subject; but in the end that subscription offers…a box of rocks.
[7] Acts 17:16-34