Homilies on Titus
Homily 2 — Titus 1, verses 5 to 11
Titus 1, verses 5 to 11
“For this reason I left you in Crete, so that you would set in order the things that are lacking, and ordain elders in every city as I directed you: if anyone is blameless, the husband of one wife, having faithful children, not accused of wild living or unruly.”
The whole life of people in ancient times was one of action and struggle; ours, on the contrary, is a life of idleness. They knew they had been brought into the world for this purpose: to labor according to the will of the one who brought them into it. But we, as if we had been born for ease, neglect spiritual things. I am speaking not only of the apostles, but of those who followed them. That is why you see them traveling to every place and pursuing this as their only business, living entirely as in a foreign land, like people who had no city on earth. So listen to what the blessed apostle says: “For this reason I left you in Crete.”
As though the whole world had been one house, they divided it among themselves and managed its affairs everywhere, each looking after his own portion of it.
“For this reason I left you in Crete, so that you would set in order the things that are lacking.”
He does not command this in a lordly way: “so that you would set in order,” he says. Here we see a soul free of all envy, everywhere seeking the good of his disciples, and not anxiously concerned whether the good was done by himself or by another. For where it was needed, he set things in order in his own person. But the things that carried more honor and praise he entrusted to his disciple, such as the ordaining of bishops, and anything else that needed further arranging, or, so to speak, bringing to greater perfection.
What do you say? Is he to go on and set your work in order? And do you not think that a disgrace that brings shame on you? “Not at all. I look only to the common good. Whether it is done by me or by someone else makes no difference to me.” This is how the one who presides in the church ought to feel: not seeking his own honor, but the common good.
“And ordain elders in every city” — here he means bishops, as we have said before — “as I directed you, if anyone is blameless.” “In every city,” he says, because he did not want the whole island entrusted to one man. Each was to have his own charge and care. In this way he would have less labor himself, and those under his rule would receive more attention, if the teacher did not have to go around presiding over many churches, but was left free to attend to one alone and bring it into order.
Verse 6: “If anyone is blameless, the husband of one wife, having faithful children, not accused of wild living or unruly.”
Why does he bring forward such a man? To stop the mouths of those heretics who condemned marriage, by showing that marriage is not an unholy thing in itself, but so far honorable that a married man might go up to the holy throne. At the same time he rebukes the lustful, by not allowing those who have contracted a second marriage to be admitted to this high office. For the man who keeps no tender regard for the wife who has died, how will he preside well? And what accusation would he not incur? You all know that although the laws do not forbid a second marriage, it is a thing open to many unkind interpretations. So, wishing the ruler to give those under his rule no handle for reproach, he says for this reason, “If anyone is blameless”: that is, if his life is free of reproach, if he has given no one occasion to attack his character. Listen to what Christ says: “If the light that is in you is darkness, how great is that darkness!” (Matthew 6, verse 23).
“Having faithful children, not accused of wild living or unruly.”
We should notice how much care he gives to the matter of children. For the man who cannot be the instructor of his own children, how could he be the teacher of others? If he cannot keep in order those he has had with him from the beginning, whom he has brought up, how will he keep in order those outside? If the father’s incompetence had not been great, he would not have let those become bad whom he had under his power from the first. It is not possible, truly it is not, for a child to turn out badly who has been brought up with much care and given great attention. Sins are not so strong by nature as to overcome so much care given beforehand.
But if, busy in the pursuit of wealth, he has made his children a secondary concern and not given them much care, even so he is unworthy. For if, when nature itself was urging him, he was so lacking in affection or so senseless that he thought more of his wealth than of his children, how should he be raised to the bishop’s throne and to so great a rule? If he was unable to restrain them, that is strong proof of his weakness; and if he did not care, his lack of affection deserves much blame. The man who neglects his own children, then, how will he take care of other people’s? And he has not only said “not given to wild living,” but not even “accused of wild living.” There must be no bad report about them, no such opinion of them.
Verse 7: “For a bishop must be blameless, as God’s steward; not self-willed, not quick-tempered, not given to wine, not one to strike.”
A ruler in the world outside rules by law and by force, and so perhaps he does not consult the wishes of those he governs. But the man who ought to rule people with their own consent, people who will thank him for his rule — if he behaves so as to do everything by his own will and shares his counsels with no one, he makes his leadership a tyranny rather than a rule the people accept. For he must be “blameless, as God’s steward, not self-willed, not quick-tempered.” How will he teach others to master that passion if he has not taught himself? Power leads on to many temptations. It makes a man harsher and harder to please, even one who was very mild, by surrounding him with so many occasions for anger. If he has not trained himself in this virtue beforehand, he will grow harsh, and will injure and ruin much of what is under his rule.
“Not given to wine, not one to strike.” Here he means the man who insults others. He should do everything by admonition or rebuke, and not by insults. What need is there, tell me, for insult? He ought to frighten, to alarm, to pierce the soul with the threat of hell. But a man who is insulted becomes more shameless, and comes rather to despise the one who insults him. Nothing breeds contempt more than insult. It disgraces the one who insults, and keeps him from being respected as he ought to be.
Their words ought to be spoken with great care. In rebuking sins they should keep the coming judgment in mind, but stay clear of all insult. Yet if anyone hinders them from doing their duty, they must press the matter with full authority. “Not one to strike,” he says. The teacher is the physician of souls, and the physician does not strike. He heals and restores even the one who has struck him. “Not eager for shameful gain.”
Verse 8: “But a lover of hospitality, a lover of good men, sensible, just, holy, self-controlled.” Verse 9: “Holding fast the faithful word as he has been taught.”
You see how intense a virtue he required. “Not eager for shameful gain”: that is, showing great contempt for money. “A lover of hospitality, a lover of good men, sensible, just, holy”: he means giving away everything he has to those in need. “Self-controlled”: here he does not mean one who fasts, but one who masters his passions, his tongue, his hands, his eyes. For this is self-control: to be drawn aside by no passion.
“Holding fast the faithful word as he has been taught.” By “faithful” he here means “true,” or that which was handed down through faith, not needing arguments or debates.
“Holding fast”: that is, taking care of it, making it his business. What then, if he knows nothing of the learning outside? That is why he says, “the faithful word, according to the teaching.”
“So that he may be able both to exhort and to convict those who contradict.” So what is needed is not showy words, but strong minds, skill in the Scriptures, and powerful thoughts. Don’t you see that Paul routed the whole world, and was more powerful than Plato and all the rest? You say: “But it was by miracles.” Not by miracles only. If you read through the Acts of the Apostles, you will find him often winning people over by his teaching before he worked any miracles.
“So that he may be able by sound teaching to exhort”: that is, to hold on to his own people and to overthrow their opponents. “And to convict those who contradict.” If this is not done, all is lost. The man who does not know how to fight the opponents, to “take every thought captive to the obedience of Christ,” and to beat down their arguments, the man who does not know what he ought to teach about right doctrine — let him keep far away from the teacher’s throne. The other qualities may be found among those under his rule as well: being “blameless,” having his children in submission, being hospitable, just and holy. But what marks the teacher is this: to be able to instruct in the word. And to this no attention is paid now.
Verse 10: “For there are many unruly people, empty talkers and deceivers, especially those of the circumcision.” Verse 11: “Whose mouths must be stopped.”
Do you see how he shows that they are such? By their not wanting to be ruled, but to rule. For he has hinted at this. So when you cannot persuade them, do not give them instructions; stop their mouths, for the good of others. But what use will this be, if they will not obey, if they are unruly? Why, then, should he stop their mouths? So that others may benefit from it.
“They overturn whole households, teaching things they ought not to teach, for the sake of shameful gain.”
If a man has taken on the office of teacher and is not able to fight these enemies and stop the mouths of people so shameless, he will become in each case the cause of the destruction of those who perish. And if someone has given this advice, “Do not seek to become a judge unless you are able to root out wrongdoing” (Sirach 7, verse 6), how much more may we say here: “Do not seek to become a teacher if you are not equal to the dignity of the office; even if you are dragged to it, decline it.” Do you see that the love of power … ? He says, “for the sake of shameful gain.”
The Love of Glory
For there is no passion that does not weigh the soul down and dim the clearness of the mind’s sight, but the mad desire for glory does so most of all. Anyone may easily come to despise money; but to despise the honor that comes from the crowd takes a great effort, a spirit of true philosophy, an angelic soul that reaches to the very summit of heaven. There is no passion so tyrannical, so widespread among all people: greater or less in different people, certainly, but present everywhere. How, then, shall we subdue it, if not wholly, at least in some small part? By looking up to heaven, by setting God before our eyes, by holding thoughts higher than earthly things.
When you desire glory, imagine that you have already gained it; look at the end, and you will find that it is nothing. Think what loss comes with it, how many great blessings it will rob you of. You will go through the toils and the dangers, and yet be robbed of their fruits and rewards. Consider that most people are bad, and despise their opinion. In the case of each person, consider what the man is, and you will see how ridiculous a thing glory is, and that it deserves rather to be called shame.
And after this, lift your thoughts to the theater above. When you do some good deed and look for spectators of it, and are aching to be seen, remember that God sees you, and all that desire will be put out. Withdraw from the earth, and look to that theater which is in heaven. If people praise you, later on they will blame you, envy you, attack your character; or if they do not, their praise will still do you no good. It is not so with God. He delights in praising our good deeds.
Have you spoken well, and been applauded? What have you gained? If those who applauded you had been benefited, changed in their minds, become better people and given up their evil deeds, then you might indeed rejoice — not at the praise you received, but at the wonderful change for the better. But if they go on with their praises and loud applause, and gain no good from what they applaud, you ought rather to grieve, for these things turn to their judgment and condemnation.
But it is for your piety that you win glory. If you are truly pious and conscious of no guilt, you should rejoice, not because you are thought pious but because you are. But if you want the good opinion of the crowd without being so, consider that they will not be your judges on the last day; he will be, who knows perfectly the things that are hidden. And if, while conscious of guilt, you are thought pure by everyone, then instead of rejoicing you should grieve and mourn bitterly, keeping constantly before your eyes that day on which all things will be revealed, on which the hidden things of darkness will be brought to light.
Do you enjoy honor? Reject it, knowing that it makes you a debtor. Does no one honor you? You ought to be glad of it. For God will not charge you with this, among other things: that you enjoyed honor. Don’t you see that God reproaches Israel through his prophet with this among other things: “I took some of your sons to be prophets, and some of your young men to be consecrated”? (Amos 2, verse 11, in the Greek Old Testament.) So you will gain at least this advantage: you will not add to your punishment.
The man who is not honored in this life, who is despised and held of no account, who is insulted and scorned, gains at least this, if nothing else: he does not have to answer for having been honored by his fellow servants. And he gains by it in many other ways too. He is brought low and humbled; even if he wanted to, he could not be proud, if he pays closer attention to himself. But the man who enjoys more honor, besides being answerable for great debts, is lifted up into arrogance and empty glory, and becomes a slave of men; and as this tyranny grows, he is forced to do many things he does not want to do.
Knowing, then, that it is better to lack glory than to have it, let us not seek it, but flee from it. The one who seeks it will not see the kingdom of heaven. This is not my own saying; I speak not my own words, but those of the Spirit of God. He will not see it, even if he practices virtue. For he says, “They have their reward in full” (Matthew 6, verse 5). Then the one who has no reward still to receive, how will he see the kingdom of heaven? I do not forbid you to desire glory, but I want it to be the true glory, the glory that comes from God. “Whose praise,” it says, “is not from people, but from God” (Romans 2, verse 29).
Let us be pious in secret, not weighed down with parade and show and hypocrisy. Let us throw away the sheep’s clothing, and rather let us become sheep. Nothing is more worthless than human glory. If you saw a crowd of little children, babies still at the breast, would you want glory from them? Feel the same toward everyone where glory is concerned.
That is why it is called empty glory. Do you see the masks the actors wear? How beautiful and splendid they are, shaped to the very height of elegance! Can you show me any real face like them? Not at all. What then? Have you ever fallen in love with them? No. Why not? Because they are empty: they imitate beauty, but are not really beautiful. In the same way human glory is empty, an imitation of glory; it is not true glory. Only the beauty that is natural, the beauty within, lasts. Beauty put on from outside often hides ugliness — hides it from people until evening. But when the theater breaks up and the masks are taken off, each one is seen for what he really is.
So let us pursue the truth, and not live as if we were on the stage acting a part. Tell me, what good is it to be stared at by a crowd? It is empty glory and nothing else. Go back to your house and be alone, and at once it is all gone. You went to the marketplace and turned everyone’s eyes on yourself. What did you gain? Nothing. It vanished and passed away like smoke dissolving. Do we really love things so unsubstantial? How unreasonable this is! What madness! Let us look to one thing only, to the … ; then we will despise it, laugh at it and reject it. We will feel like people who wanted gold and were handed clay.
Let no one praise you, for it does no good; and if someone blames you, it does you no harm. But with God, praise and blame bring real gain and loss, while everything that comes from people is empty. And in this we are made like God: he needs no glory from people. “I do not receive honor from men,” said Christ (John 5, verse 41). Tell me, is this a small thing? When you are unwilling to despise glory, say, “By despising it I will be like God,” and at once you will despise it.
But it is impossible for the slave of glory not to be a slave to everyone, more servile than real slaves. We do not lay on our slaves such tasks as glory demands of her captives. Shameful and disgraceful are the things she makes them say and do and suffer; and when she sees them obedient, she presses her orders all the harder.
So let us flee, I beg you, let us flee from this slavery. But how will we be able to? If we think seriously about the things of this world, if we see that the present things are a dream, a shadow, and nothing better, we will easily overcome this desire, and neither in small things nor in great will we be taken captive by it. But if we do not despise it in small things, we will easily be overcome by it in the greatest. So let us put far from us its sources, and these are folly and smallness of soul. Then, if we take on a lofty spirit, we will be able to look beyond the honor that comes from the crowd, to stretch our view toward heaven, and to obtain the good things there. May God grant that we all share in them, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory to the Father, with the Holy Spirit, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.