ST. PAUL’S LETTER TO TITUS 3:8-15
Titus, my son, the saying is sure. I desire you to insist on these things, so that those who have believed in God may be careful to apply themselves to good deeds; these are excellent and profitable to men. But avoid stupid controversies, genealogies, dissensions, and quarrels over the law, for they are unprofitable and futile. As for a man who is factious, after admonishing him once or twice, have nothing more to do with him, knowing that such a person is perverted and sinful; he is self-condemned. When I send Artemas or Tychicos to you, do your best to come to me at Nicopolis, for I have decided to spend the winter there. Do your best to speed Zenas the lawyer and Apollos on their way; see that they lack nothing. And let our people learn to apply themselves to good deeds, so as to help cases of urgent need, and not to be unfruitful. All who are with me send greeting to you. Greet those who love us in the faith. Grace be with you all. Amen.
There is something in today’s epistle that is likely to catch our attention: “A man who is a heretic after the first and second admonition reject.”
That is a strong statement. It’s easy to hear it and immediately begin thinking about someone who needs to be corrected. We may even already have a name in mind, and we may already have our admonitions locked and loaded, complete with quotations from our favorite influencers.
But St. John Chrysostom begins his commentary somewhere else. He asks us to remember what St. Paul has just said about the love of God: what we were, what God has done for us, and the mercy by which He has saved us.
That is where we need to begin, too.
Before Paul tells Titus what to do about someone else’s stubbornness, he reminds him of God’s kindness toward us. We also needed correction; we also needed healing; and God came to us in love.
Then St. Paul says: keep teaching “these things,” that is to say, keep teaching about God’s merciful gift of salvation, so that those who believe in God will learn to devote themselves to good works.
The mercy we have received is supposed to bear fruit.
If we understand that God has been patient with us, we can become more patient with others. If we understand that He has been generous with us, we can become more generous. If we understand that He came looking for us when we were lost, we can begin looking for people who need our help.
This is how St. John Chrysostom approaches the passage. He moves from God’s love for mankind to our care for one another.
And he is quite concrete about that care: help those who have been wronged; protect the vulnerable; care for widows and orphans; offer refuge to those who are suffering.
Sometimes that requires money. Sometimes it requires our time, our presence, or our willingness to stand beside someone who would otherwise be facing a difficult situation alone. And we should ask whether our own words and actions are adding to the burdens we say we want to relieve.
The question is: having received so much unearned mercy from God, what are we learning to do with it?
St. Paul juxtaposes two kinds of activity:
On the one hand, there are things that are “good and profitable to men,” and on the other there are things that are “unprofitable and vain.”
Good works belong to the first category. Foolish disputes belong to the second.
We can spend a remarkable amount of energy on things that produce very little good.
We know how this happens. We begin with a question worth discussing. Then, somewhere along the way, we become more concerned with getting the last word. We rehearse our response while the other person is still speaking. We look for the sentence that will finally settle the matter.
And afterward, what has happened; what is the fruit?
Has anyone become more faithful? Has anyone been helped? Have we understood one another better? Or have we simply become more practiced at being angry?
Referring to the logic in the parable of the sower, St. John Chrysostom asks why we would keep sowing seed on a rock when there are people ready to benefit from our care.
Our attention is limited. Our time is limited. If we spend an evening feeding an argument (an argument with “rocks,” nonetheless), that evening is no longer available for prayer, for our family, or for someone who could use a phone call.
This does not mean that truth is unimportant. St. John Chrysostom explicitly says that when false teaching is harming others, the shepherd must intervene. There are people to protect. There are errors that need to be answered.
But protecting someone from harm and keeping an argument alive are different activities. We need enough humility to ask which one we are doing. And we should remember that an online argument can be profitable for the platform while being utterly unprofitable and counterproductive for our souls.
That helps us understand Paul’s instruction about the person who refuses correction.
Notice that there is a first admonition, and then a second.
There is an honest effort to reach the person. There is an opportunity for him to listen, reconsider, and return. St. Basil likewise places correction within a process of accountability and reconciliation. He says that someone who persists after correction should be brought to the superior, “that perhaps he may be ashamed when further rebuked.”
Even here, the hope is that the person will listen and return.
The passage concerns someone who persists in destructive teaching and division despite that correction. It is addressed to St. Titus in his responsibility as a shepherd. It does not give any of us a commission to identify and expel everyone who irritates us.
Still, it gives all of us something to examine. Because there are two sides in every dispute. Are we ready to receive correction? Can we hear it when someone tells us that we have misunderstood a situation and acted inappropriately? Can we admit that we have spoken unfairly? Can we reconsider our opinions without feeling that our whole identity is under attack? In general, how do we react to criticism and accountability?
It is possible to become so attached to being right that we lose the ability to be taught. And that is dangerous for all of us.
The Church is a place where we come to be healed. Healing requires that we allow Christ to show us something we would rather not see, and He often does it through people we would rather ignore.
So before we use this passage to diagnose another person’s stubbornness, we should bring our own stubbornness to confession.
After this, as he is wrapping up his epistle, St. Paul turns to travel arrangements and gives us a practical example of everything he has been saying.
Artemas or Tychicus will come to Crete. Titus should meet Paul at Nicopolis. Zenas and Apollos need to be helped along on their journey.
It can sound like the important theological part is finished and we have reached the housekeeping.
But look at the instruction: make sure they lack nothing.
Here are particular people with particular needs. They need provisions. They need help getting where they are going. Someone has to notice those needs and take responsibility for meeting them.
This is what the teaching looks like when it becomes life.
It is easy to speak warmly about hospitality. It takes more attention to make sure a guest has something to eat and somewhere to sleep.
It is easy to affirm that Christians should care for one another. It takes a little planning to bring a meal, arrange a ride, or sit with someone whose caregiver needs a break.
St. Paul wants the people of the Church to learn how to do this; to develop a solid instinct and capacity for providing hospitality and love. He says that we are to devote ourselves to good works. There is responsibility in this language; we are to take initiative in caring for others.
And St. John Chrysostom presses the point further: do not simply wait for people in need to come to you. Look for them.
That is worth contemplating for a moment.
Some people find it very difficult to ask for help. They do not want to be a burden. They are embarrassed. They assume that everyone else is already too busy.
If our charity begins only when someone makes a sufficiently clear request, we will miss people.
We can learn to notice even unspoken needs. Who has been absent? Who is carrying more than usual? Who has become quiet? Who is going home alone to something difficult?
We do not need to pry or appoint ourselves managers of someone else’s life. We can offer something simple and specific: “I can bring dinner on Tuesday.” “Would a ride help?” “I have some time this afternoon if you would like company.”
That is a skill we can practice. And St. Paul says it’s one we must learn.
St. John Chrysostom builds on this call to serve with a surprising question: why does God give us a part in this work? Could Christ, who fed thousands, not have provided for the needs of His ministers without anyone’s assistance? Could He not have supplied everything Zenas and Apollos needed?
Of course He could have. Yet He allows people to help. He gives them a share in His generosity. The person receiving help benefits. So does the person giving it.
When we give, something happens within us. Our grip loosens. We become less governed by the fear of having too little. Another person’s well-being begins to matter enough that we are willing to sacrifice and make room for it in our day.
St. John Chrysostom calls almsgiving the mother of love.
We often act as if we must first feel sufficiently loving in order to act. But sometimes we learn to love by performing the act of charity that is already within our reach; regardless of our feelings, we bring the meal, we make the visit, we give what we can. And then, through that practice, God teaches our hearts to become more generous.
This is part of how He binds the Body of Christ together.
An argument can train us to regard another person as an obstacle. An act of mercy can train us to recognize a neighbor.
That is why St. Paul is so concerned that his people should not be unfruitful. Their participation matters. God is forming them through the good they learn to do.
This lesson from St. Paul is so practical—be on the watch for ways to put it into effect. Find a need you can help meet, then make a concrete offer; and think of one fruitless dispute you can stop feeding with your attention and participation.
That may free some time and attention for the person who actually needs you.
We will not all be able to offer the same things. Some can give money. Some can give time. Some have skills, a car, a spare room, or the patience to listen. Some of us need to receive help right now, and allowing another person to care for us can itself require humility.
We belong to one another. There is room in this life both to give and to receive.
St. Paul closes with a blessing: “Grace be with you all.” Grace has been the foundation of everything he has said. God has loved us, saved us, and brought us into His household. Now He is teaching us how to live there.
May we receive correction with humility, speak the truth with care, and notice the needs He places before us.
And may the mercy we have received become mercy someone else can experience through us, to the glory of God and furtherance of His Kingdom.