October 5, 2025
The Rev’d Michael J. Horvath
Epistle: 2 Timothy 1:1-14; Gospel: Luke 17:5-10

Paul’s words to Timothy this morning hit different when you know where he’s writing from. He’s sitting in prison. He’s tired, probably hungry, probably cold. He’s been betrayed, beaten, and forgotten by most of the people he once served beside. And still he says, “I am not ashamed, for I know the one in whom I have put my trust.”

You can almost hear the defiance in that. It’s not arrogance — it’s the kind of hard-won faith that comes from having nothing left to prop you up except God. “I know the one.” Not “I know about the one,” not “I’ve read all the right theology books.” Paul says, “I know him.” It’s personal. Flesh and blood. And that knowing — that relationship — is the treasure he’s guarding.

He tells Timothy, “Guard the good treasure entrusted to you.” Which sounds noble, but let’s be honest, it’s a weird phrase. Because how do you “guard” the Gospel? You can’t wrap it in bubble wrap or bury it in a vault. You guard it by how you live. You guard it by not selling it out. You guard it by refusing to let anyone twist it into something ugly or self-serving.

And, my God, do we need that reminder right now. Because we live in a time when Christianity is getting co-opted left and right. We live in a time when people use the name of Jesus to grab power or to justify cruelty. We live in a time when we politicians tell us that some people are more deserving of our care than others, and at the same time forget that Jesus never speaks of love as something to be rationed. We live in a time when folks shout about “Christian values” but seem to forget that the main one — the only one that really matters — is love. We’ve all seen versions of the faith that mistake dominance for discipleship, and control for conviction.

Paul’s not having any of that. He says, “Hold to the standard of sound teaching in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.” Sound teaching isn’t about being right; it’s about being rooted — rooted in love, rooted in mercy, rooted in Jesus. And if the teaching you hear doesn’t sound like Jesus, doesn’t look like Jesus, doesn’t love like Jesus, then it’s not the Gospel.

You want to know how to spot the difference? Look at the fruit. Does it bear love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control? Or does it bear anger, fear, pride, cruelty, and contempt? Does it draw people in or push them out? Does it heal or does it harm? If the so-called gospel being preached doesn’t lift up the lowly or break down the walls between us — if it doesn’t sound like good news to the poor, or to the stranger, or to the immigrants, or to our trans brothers and sisters — then it’s not the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It’s just noise.

Now, all of that can feel like a lot to take on. Guard the treasure? Hold to sound teaching? Stand up to distortions of the Gospel? It’s enough to make us feel like the disciples in today’s Gospel from Luke. They look at Jesus and basically say, “You’re gonna have to give us more faith for this.” And Jesus just shrugs and says, “You don’t need more faith. You need to use the faith you’ve got.”

Even a mustard seed, he says — even a little bit of faith is enough. Enough to move mountains, enough to stand firm, enough to guard the treasure. It’s not about how much faith you have; it’s about who you’re trusting with it. Paul says, “I know the one in whom I have put my trust.” That’s it. That’s the whole thing.

You don’t have to have heroic faith to hold onto Jesus. You don’t have to have perfect theology or be fearless in the face of evil. You just need that mustard seed — that small, stubborn bit of trust that says, “God is still God, even now.” That’s the faith that can keep you steady when the world’s spinning out. That’s the faith that helps you guard the good treasure — not with force or fear, but with love and truth.

And then Jesus tells this little story about servants who just do what they’re supposed to do — no big applause, no medals. Which is kind of perfect, because guarding the Gospel isn’t glamorous. It’s quiet work. It’s the daily choosing to love when it’d be easier to harden your heart. It’s showing kindness when the world rewards cruelty. It’s forgiving when you’ve got every right to hold a grudge.

It’s the work so many of you already do — showing up for one another in sickness and in grief, bringing meals, saying prayers, listening to people no one else listens to. That’s mustard-seed faith. That’s what it looks like to guard the treasure.

And listen — don’t think for a second that kind of faith is small. The Gospel doesn’t need an army of perfect people; it needs people who love Jesus enough to live differently in a world that’s forgotten how.

So when you see faith being twisted into something that doesn’t look like love, don’t lose heart. You don’t need to shout louder than the loudest voices. You just need to keep being who you already are: people who trust the One who first trusted you with this treasure.

Paul says, “I’m not ashamed.” That’s our call too. Not ashamed of loving the wrong people — because there are no wrong people. Not ashamed of being gentle in a cruel world. Not ashamed of being hopeful when cynicism seems smarter. Not ashamed of following the one who gave himself away for love.

You’ve already got the faith you need, friends. You’ve already got the treasure. You’ve already got the Spirit living in you. And that is more than enough.

Thanks be to God.

St. Mary’s Barnstable