Wednesday, December 7, 2022

Reading Through the Book of Titus (My Writer’s Perspective)




As a writer, I am always drawn to short books that say big things. And when I opened Titus, I knew I had stepped into one of those compact but powerful spaces. This letter was brief—but bold. It did not waste a single word.

Titus is about what it means to live what you believe.
Plain and simple: Faith must be put into practice.

Paul was not writing this letter to correct a church. He was writing to equip a leader. That leader—Titus—was stationed on the island of Crete, trying to bring order to a group of new believers surrounded by chaos, culture clashes, and moral confusion. And Paul? Paul gave him a strategy rooted in lived-out faith.

From a writer’s lens, the tone was direct. Not harsh, but focused. Paul did not meander. He spoke with authority, clarity, and pastoral precision. This was not the time for long introductions or emotional reminiscing. This was a leadership letter. A blueprint for building character and credibility in a church that needed both.

Paul opened with doctrine—but quickly moved into duty.

Appoint elders. Teach sound doctrine. Correct falsehood. Model good works. Avoid foolish arguments. These were not abstract ideas. These were action steps. Paul was saying: Your belief should show up in your behavior.

The phrase that echoed throughout the letter? “Sound doctrine.”
But Paul did not mean doctrine just as a system of ideas. He meant doctrine as a way of life. Right believing should lead to right living. He told Titus to teach what is good—so that older men and women, younger men and women, and everyone in between would know how to carry themselves in a way that honors God.

One line really stood out to me:
“They claim to know God, but by their actions they deny Him.”

That hit hard.
Because that was the theme of the whole book.

Paul was not just talking about the culture outside the church—he was calling out the inconsistency inside. And he was charging Titus to raise up leaders who lived differently. Leaders who could teach the truth and model it.

He laid out what that looked like:
Self-control. Integrity. Dignity. Love. Patience. Respect. Obedience. Humility. These were not just moral ideals. They were spiritual disciplines. And Paul said that living this way would “make the teaching about God our Savior attractive.”

As a writer, I loved how Paul balanced structure and soul. He gave form—appoint elders, avoid distractions—but he also gave why it mattered. This was not just about managing a church. It was about protecting the witness of the gospel.

Paul knew people were watching.
And what they saw in believers would either draw them to Christ—or drive them away.

The climax of the letter came in chapter 3:

“Our people must learn to devote themselves to doing what is good, in order to provide for urgent needs and not live unproductive lives.”

That line summed it all up. Faith is not just about sitting in church. It is not just about quoting Scripture. It is not just about believing the right things. Faith is active. It shows up in how we treat people. How we work. How we serve. How we respond to needs.

My favorite moment was when Paul said, “The grace of God has appeared… teaching us to say no to ungodliness.”
That was such a powerful shift.
Because grace was not a license to sit back.
Grace was the power to live different.

Reading Titus reminded me that spiritual maturity is not measured by how much you know—but how much you live. This book is proof that true faith always shows up in real life. In habits. In relationships. In leadership. In love.

This letter was short.
But it was sharp.
And it still cuts through excuses today.