Powered by the Spirit
One of the joys of camping is the campfire — sitting around it, roasting marshmallows, telling stories. But all too often it's something else: a lot of smoke. It gets in your eyes, makes your clothes stink, and if you move out of its way, it follows you. And what is smoke, really? It's a fire not burning properly — flames that are warm but could be hotter, dim but could be blazing. Smoke is fire not living up to what it could be. So you build it up for better airflow, blow on it, fan it into flame. That small picture turns out to be a surprisingly sharp question to put to a church — and to a life.
The last letter
The question comes from one of the most poignant places in the Bible. Second Timothy is the last letter the apostle Paul wrote before his execution, penned from a prison cell in Rome. In his final words he lifts the lid on what matters most, writing to a younger church leader he loves like a son. "For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you." Timothy has been given something, and now he has a choice. Will he let it die down like a smoky fire, or make the most of it and fan it into flame? It's a good question for any church taking stock: what have we been given, and what will we do with it?
A faith handed down
Before Paul gets to the gift, he dwells on Timothy himself with real warmth. "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." Even in chains, Paul is comforted that Timothy's faith is genuine — and that it was handed down, grandmother to mother to son. That's worth noticing. Mostly the New Testament gives us dramatic testimonies, like Paul's own blinding encounter on the Damascus Road. But for many of us, faith came quietly, passed down by a parent. That can feel less exciting than a big turnaround — yet if that's my children's testimony one day, I'll be thrilled. And even if no one in your family taught you about Jesus, there's a deeper inheritance on offer: the family of faith itself. We really are brothers and sisters in Christ.
Power, love, self-discipline
That family faith leads straight to the gift Paul wants fanned into flame. "For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline." Timothy, as a believer, has the Spirit of God with him — he is powered by God's own Spirit. It's a staggering reality, and how easily we take it for granted, especially those of us who grew up in church and have always had it. On one hand it's pure gift: we don't earn it. On the other, Paul tells Timothy to do something with it. There are two paths. You can live as if you don't have the Spirit — timid, fearful, shrinking back — or as if you do, stepping forward in power, love, and self-discipline. There is plenty to fear: rejection, shame, sickness, death. But these are precisely the fears Jesus deals with — he welcomes us, frees us from shame, defeats death — and it's these truths the Spirit presses into our lives.
What the three gifts mean
Take the three in turn. The Spirit gives power — not necessarily the miraculous kind, but energy, strength, the capacity to act. It's the opposite of being frozen by fear, and it flows from the Jesus who stepped into the mess to rescue us. The Spirit gives love — and if you've ever truly loved someone, you know it means putting another's needs before your own. Fear keeps us as number one; the Spirit of the one who loved us to the cross gives us power to love like that. And the Spirit gives self-discipline — the least exciting-sounding of the three, but really the gift of being who you want to be even when no one is watching. All three are the Spirit of Jesus at work, growing us into his likeness.
Still terrified, but not alone
This is not a "believe in yourself and you can do anything" message. It's the opposite. I think of a woman who, not long ago, was terrified of public speaking — the mere thought of reading the Bible up front could almost bring on a panic attack. She now leads services in a warm, natural way. By the Spirit's slow transformation, she can now serve rather than be crippled by fear. But when she first started, she wasn't suddenly fearless. She was still terrified — she just knew she wasn't alone. That's the pattern. As we take steps toward action, toward love, toward self-discipline, we don't do it because we've suddenly become powerful, loving and disciplined people. We take the steps with the Spirit. Paul knew the road doesn't magically smooth out — he wrote from prison. But the Spirit kept pointing him to Jesus: "I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him."
Fan it into flame
So how does Timothy — how do we — fan the gift into flame? Paul lands the whole thing in the gospel: God "has saved us and called us to a holy life — not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace... through the appearing of our Savior, Christ Jesus, who has destroyed death and has brought life and immortality to light." That's how. Not by gritting our teeth and trying harder, but by filling our hearts with what the Spirit is always pointing us toward: Jesus, and what he has done. If he can free us from the fear of death itself, he can take any fear we carry. That's who a church is meant to be — people so secure in the welcoming arms of Jesus that they can't help but open their doors and hearts to everyone around them. The alternative is to let the gift sit like smoky embers. So it's worth asking honestly: where could you ask God to free you from fear and fan into flame the gift already in you?
This post is adapted from a sermon preached by Murray Colville at St Hilda's Anglican Church Katoomba on 2 Timothy 1, as part of our Vision Month 2026: We See a Church... series through 2 Timothy. Visit us at www.katoomba.church.
