Gifts

I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also. For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands. For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline. (II Timothy 1:5-7)

          What was Timothy’s gift? All we know about it is that he received it through the laying on of Paul’s hands. Our first speculation is that it would be that whatever his gift was, it had to be something cool. We’re talking super-sainthood at least. Our second is that it would have been even cooler to have gained some cool gift through the laying on of the hands of someone like Paul.

          In the little I found about Timothy, there’s some reason to be impressed. He’s listed as a co-author of a number of the letters Paul wrote that are included in the Bible. In one story about him, as an old man, he tried to halt a procession in honor of Diana by preaching the Gospel. Those in the procession dragged him through the streets and stoned him to death. Yes, this is the same man that Paul had to encourage to be strong and fight the good fight.

          It seems curious that though Paul repeatedly tells him to use his gift, he never says what it is. What he does write about – extensively - is Timothy as a pastor. What’s more, the tradition of laying hands on a pastor or elder continues to this day. So, the “cool” gift may well have been a job, and the laying on of hands might not have involved a miracle.

          And so we reach the oft’ asked question of what my gift, or yours, is. Too often our response is that we have no gifts because 1) there was no big, dramatic event that marked its initiation, 2) we get no mystical feeling (whatever that is) in association with it, and 3) the whole world doesn’t fall at our feet in worship of our magnificent ability.

          Now, let me make it clear that God is perfectly capable of arranging a big, dramatic event in which He gives someone a magnificent gift that leads everyone to stand in awe and the person with the gift to have some mystical sensations. But while I’ve been told that these gifts are supposed to be something that the person couldn’t do and then suddenly could, I have yet to find story after story that suggests that this is the norm. The norm seems to be quiet, undramatic, and practical.