C, Post-Pentecost 18, Proper 23 - 2 Timothy 2:8-15 "Chewing the Fat of Faith"

Perhaps you’ve heard the saying, “chewing the fat”. This is what people do when they sit round the campfire, the bar with a beer, or at the kitchen table — killing time, talking, perhaps gossiping, or just discussing the day’s events in a bid to overcome boredom. One chews the fat by having a chat with someone else. Chewing the fat is usually done with friends.

But from where did such a saying arise? Is chewing the fat a healthy thing to do, or not? Or is chewing the fat neither good nor bad — just a way of remembering and reminding, a mental regurgitation, coughing up what was once buried deep within the mind?

There are a number of legends that seek to explain how the phrase “chewing the fat” entered common speech. However, in recent times there’s an army of health experts warning people off eating fat. To eat lean, they say, is to live a serene, healthy life. One must deny oneself fat, let alone chewing the fat.

Yet this is what soldiers would do to pass the time of tension and boredom before battle broke out. They would chew on tough salted meat or fat to distract the mind and socialise with one another — in the calm before the storm, to keep calm.

Or “chewing the fat” may have been a saying that arose from people doing so in times of food scarcity or on long voyages across the ocean, chewing the fat to get every last morsel of goodness out of a limited supply of food. Even so, it was still a communal activity.

Another possibility is that the saying came from a Native American cultural practice where, during peace talks, “chewing the fat” was a ritual.

Another possible derivation is that “chewing the fat” may have come from another saying, “chewing the rag”, where musket ammunition was kept in paper or cloth soaked in animal fat, which was bitten off when loading the musket. It is thought that the bitten‑off ends of rag or paper soaked in fat would then be chewed to reduce nerves amid the battle. Here again, chewing the fat was a communal exercise amongst comrades.

Saint Paul calls himself a soldier bound in chains as he encourages Timothy also to be a good soldier. He says to Timothy, “Share in suffering as a good soldier of Christ Jesus. Remember Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, the offspring of David, as preached in my gospel, for which I am suffering, bound with chains as a criminal. But the word of God is not bound!” (2 Timothy 2:3,8–9 ESV)

Chewing the fat, like chewing gum, requires muscle memory. Paul encourages Timothy to chew over the word of God, which is not bound as he is bound. Remember Jesus Christ, remember his resurrection, remember he is the offspring of David, remember my preaching of these things — which is my gospel, for which I am suffering. Make it yours too! Chew over the word of God, remember the word of God.

Although “chewing the fat” of God’s word is not literally tearing pages from the Bible and eating them, the symbolic saying does bring to light an issue from Old Testament law. The fat was the most valuable part of a sacrificial animal; eating it, let alone constantly chewing it, was forbidden. The fat and the blood belonged to God:

“And the priest shall burn them (that is, the fat on the entrails, together with the kidneys, the liver, and the fat covering them) on the altar as a food offering with a pleasing aroma. All fat is the Lord’s. It shall be a statute forever throughout your generations, in all your dwelling places, that you eat neither fat nor blood.” (Leviticus 3:16–17 ESV)

There would be no literal eating or “chewing of the fat” in Jewish practice. Yet today we eat and drink the body and blood of Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh. We remember what Christ did to be our Saviour at the cross as we eat his physical and spiritual body and drink his physical and spiritual blood, hidden in the elements of bread and wine. In this we gather as congregation to remember Jesus Christ, to chew the fat, one could say!

Paul, imprisoned, encourages Timothy to share in these things with him despite being separated by prison bars and fifteen hundred kilometres as the crow flies — and further if on foot. Likewise, we gather not just here, nor just at this time, nor just as a parish, nor as a Lutheran denomination, but with angels, archangels, and the whole company of heaven as we are faithfully gathered by the Holy Spirit to “chew the fat” of God’s word, and his Word made flesh in the body and blood of Jesus Christ.

This is a mystery that takes Holy Spirit‑given faith to grasp, and it also takes Holy Spirit‑given faith to pass on to others so they too can “chew the fat” of this faith mystery and receive salvation.

Paul also reminds Timothy of this, since he is a minister of these mysteries at Ephesus. In his first letter to Timothy, Paul lists what is required of Timothy and others who serve, saying: “if I delay, you may know how one ought to behave in the household of God, which is the church of the living God, a pillar and buttress of the truth. (1 Timothy 3:15 ESV)

Then Paul calls Timothy to chew over the following trustworthy saying: “Great indeed, we confess, is the mystery of godliness: He was manifested in the flesh, vindicated by the Spirit, seen by angels, proclaimed among the nations, believed on in the world, taken up in glory.” (1 Timothy 3: 16 ESV)

Now in his second letter he gives Timothy another piece of truth to chew over as he says: The saying is trustworthy, for: If we have died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him; if we deny him, he also will deny us; if we are faithless, he remains faithful— for he cannot deny himself.” (2 Timothy 2:11–13 ESV)

On hearing this saying at first you might hear the law of God, as Paul says, “if we deny Jesus, Jesus also will deny us.” This certainly is a dire place to be! I imagine none of us want to be denied by Jesus Christ. Chewing the reality of being Christless is more hopeless than an Anzac assault from the trenches of Gallipoli.

However, I want us to hear the inclusive language of Paul to Timothy: If we have died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him; if we deny him, he also will deny us; if we are faithless, he remains faithful— for he cannot deny himself.” (2 Timothy 2:11–13 ESV)

One might think the last statement, “he remains faithful — for he cannot deny himself”, is not inclusive. However, Paul wants Timothy to chew over the richness that has been given to all: to him, Timothy, the congregation at Ephesus, and to us as well. Even though Jesus can deny us when we deny him, and leave us to our own devices, to discipline us, he will always be faithful to us, because the Holy Spirit has been planted in us in baptism. The Holy Spirit reminds us to remember and endure — or remain — in Jesus Christ, and to chew over the truth that allows us to reign with Jesus. Although it is hidden and only seen by faith this side of our physical death and resurrection.

Where Paul calls Timothy to remember Jesus, his works of denying and being faithful, now he encourages Timothy to continue being faithful to his call as pastor at Ephesus, saying: “Remind them of these things, and charge them before God not to quarrel about words, which does no good, but only ruins the hearers. Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth.” (2 Timothy 2:14–15 ESV)

Paul calls Timothy to rightly handle the word of truth, by remembering and reminding. Like a cow chewing its cud, Paul remembers and reminds as he “chews the fat of the faith”. He calls Timothy to do so too. And Paul does this so the church can continue to be gathered and pass on the faith, chewing the fat of God’s richness in Jesus Christ, given and shed for the salvation of souls, so people might participate in the reception of God’s peace.

As we hear Paul speak to Pastor Timothy too, we’re called to chew the fat of faith for our eternal peace as well. We’re called to remember and remind others of God’s faithfulness to us. To gather with our friends and family, our colleagues and neighbours, to chew the fat of our faith and peace. Be it sitting round a campfire, at the bar with a beer, or at the meal table — killing time, talking, demonstrating our desire to glorify God, as we discuss the day’s events in the light of our salvation from sin as we patiently wait for Jesus’ return.

Amen. 

C, Post-Pentecost 17, Proper 22 - Luke 17:5-10 "Faith in Flying Trees"

Luke 17:5–10 (ESV)  The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” And the Lord said, “If you had faith like a grain of mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you. “Will any one of you who has a servant plowing or keeping sheep say to him when he has come in from the field, ‘Come at once and recline at table’? Will he not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, and dress properly, and serve me while I eat and drink, and afterward you will eat and drink’? Does he thank the servant because he did what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were commanded, say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.’ ”

It is an amazing thing to see a tree flying through the air. Dad, my brother, and I had great faith that the tree would fly that day, as we stood out in the middle of the cultivation. We were careful in our preparation; we drilled a hole deep down into the base of the tree as Dad prepared an inch piece of gelignite with a detonator and fuse wire. Now, this would not lift anything out of the ground, let alone a forty-metre-high gum tree. But it did make a nice reservoir down inside the base in which we could deposit the motherload of explosives.

My brother and I had great faith that the tree would fly that day as Dad slid stick after stick, down the inch hole into the reservoir, surgically giving each a prod with an old broom handle. I lost count after the twelfth stick of gelignite was delicately poked into the hole. Finally, Dad got to the last piece—another inch piece of gelignite, with detonator embedded and enough fuse wire running from it to ensure a safe escape once lit. We had great faith the tree was going to fly that day.

Dad fumbled with the matches. He must have known what havoc he was about to unleash in the quiet valley, only broken by the occasional aark-aark of an old black crow. He got a match to burn, grabbed the end of the fuse wire, and held the flame just under it. The yellow plastic around the fuse began to melt, and then all the sudden the wire began to hiss, warning us that the spark was on its way to the motherload. With great faith, Dad sprung onto the back of our old 1954 Land Rover and yelled, “OK, let’s get out-a-here!” He had great faith the tree was going to fly!

I turned on the key and hit the starter button—click click went the starter motor, and then nothing. My brother’s eyes grew to the size of saucers as I repeated the process again, only to hear the same click click. Just out of the corner of my eye, the hiss of the fuse disappeared down the hole, like a brown snake retreating down its hole. The fact that the fuse was now only three feet from its destination was not lost on the others as Dad alarmingly yelled, “Give her one more go and then we’ll have to run for it!” He had great faith the tree was going to fly!

I, on the other hand, didn’t have much faith in the old Land Rover. This old farm bomb had been through the wars—and a number of gates—when the brakes had failed to work. But there was no problem with stopping that day; rather, the problem was starting. This old farm bomb was about to go boom if we couldn’t get her to move.

But with the tension of an action Hollywood movie, I hit the starter button and two of the four cylinders sprung to life. I shoved her in gear and gave her a gutful of juice as I slammed my foot on the accelerator and took off. We had just enough time to get down the paddock, turn the Land Rover sideways, jump out and take cover behind it. With eyes wide, we watched—an almighty sonic boom reverberated up the valley as the tree began to defy gravity and lift from the ground like a spaceship taking off for the moon. We saw the tree fly. It was only for a moment until gravity took over once again and limbs, leaves and trunk came crashing back to earth. It was over. Now we had the tiresome task of picking up all the sticks scattered like shrapnel across the cultivation. But we were not disappointed! In fact, we were relieved that we lived to tell the tale of the tree that flew.

The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” He replied, “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it will obey you.”

The poor apostles, bewildered as usual, asked for an increase in faith. And why did they ask for it? Well, just before this text, Jesus tells them about the rich man and Lazarus, whom we heard about last week, and then he instructs about sin by saying to them, “Things that cause people to sin are bound to come, but woe to that person through whom they come. It would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around his neck than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin. So watch yourselves. If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him. If he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times comes back to you and says, ‘I repent,’ forgive him.” Then the apostles said to Jesus, “Increase our faith!” (Luke 17:1–5)

This must have put the fear of God into them. In fact, Jesus gave them the law and it scared the living daylights out of them. The law showed them who they were; it showed them they were trapped in their old vehicles of sin, not going anywhere, while the fuse of life was burning to its end.

So, they asked for an increase in their faith as if this would cure all their problems. As if faith was an antidote for sin. Their faith was not one which saw the tree rip out of the ground and plant itself in the ocean; rather, their faith was one which foresaw the tree ripping from the ground and killing them. Their faith was a faith in their own ability to get themselves going and avoid ruin from the flying debris of sin. Just as Dad, my brother, and I put our faith in an old faulty Land Rover to take us out of the path of an exploding gum tree, they sought to place their faith in the faultiness of their sinful natures.

In Paul’s letters to the Romans and the Galatians (Rom 3:28, 5:1; Gal 2:16, 3:24), he talks about being justified by faith. What is being justified by faith? And weren’t the apostles seeking to do just that—to be justified by faith, to be made right by an increase in faith? Many churches today speak of being justified by faith but, like the apostles, lose sight of what this faith actually is, its source and destination, and what the word of God says about it. In fact, it is your problem too! So often our faith is one in which the mulberry tree—or the gum tree—is removed from the ground through the action and genius of me and you. Where is the faith in God?

Jesus knew the apostles’ wonky ploy; he saw their desire for justification through faith—but without grace. Jesus saw their desire for self-righteous justice rather than mercy through the grace of God. So, he showed the apostles, his right-hand men, the servants that they are, and replaced their question for an increase in faith with a servant’s plea—begging for mercy.

We don’t ask for faith that makes us powerful over sin. The speck of faith God gives us is enough for us to do the work he has called us to do and then look to him as servants still in need of mercy. The speck of faith God gives to us may be smaller than that of a mustard seed, but it enables us to look to God and trust in his grace.

In Ephesians 2:8–10, God’s word tells us, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

We are justified by a faith not of our own, given to us as a gift by the Holy Spirit when we hear God’s word, and true faith always points us to the foot of the cross—our tree of life, our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. And, while we seek to be justified in Christ, it becomes evident that we ourselves are sinners (Gal 2:17); we are unworthy sinners; we are unworthy servants. However, through his power, we are severed from sin and are planted in the waters of baptismal life, where we can continually live by mercy in this stream of God’s grace. Amen.