Titus and the Unlovable

So there's this little book near the back of the Bible--the book of Titus. I sort of re-discovered it a few years back when I was looking for a creative idea for a chapel at school. I ended up developing a first-person dramatic presentation which has gone over pretty well each time I've done it. But here's the thing: Titus may be bigger than we think. You almost never hear anybody preach from it, or even talk about it; and yet, it contains one of the most important messages that we can hear.

Titus was probably an educated, rathe erudite young man with an upscale sort of background. I can imagine his somewhat intellectual approach to the faith, and I figure that he very quickly thought he had things all figured out. He must have been pretty excited when Paul invited him to go along to Crete, and even more excited to arrive there. Crete is, after all, an island in the Mediterranean. Imagine this kid standing in the prow of the ship as it approached, the clear blue water all around, the white sand of the beach in sight. He must have thought he had arrived in Paradise--until he got out of that boat.

Once he began to move among the people, I can picture Titus' disgust as what he was seeing. The Scripture is pretty plain about these Cretans. They were lazy, gluttonous, violent, and downright barbaric. Even today, the word "cretin" is not a compliment. No one wanted to be around these people, and of course they must have been amazed at hearing the Word. Unconditional love was not really in their repertoire of ideas, after all. These were people who fought and argued because they liked it--it was a way of life.

The Gospel changed all that, of course. Or did it? If you read Paul's letter to Titus, it seems pretty evident that most of the Cretans did not change overnight just because they were converted to Christianity. Is that really a surprise, though? Almost nobody really changes dramatically overnight just because they accept Christ. We are all works in progress, or at least we should be. If we aren't moving forward and growing all the time, we are stagnant in the faith.

So here's young Titus, probably quite appalled at the behavior of these disgusting folks, and shocked that their conversion hasn't immediately turned them into--well, him. I mean, most of us think that everybody would be fine if they were just more like us. Can you imagine Titus' reaction when he realized that Paul was leaving Crete and leaving him, Titus, behind? I can hear him, I think. "Paul, no. Are you kidding? I can't stay here with these people. Not alone. Please, take me home." Or something similar to that. But leave Paul did, with Titus remaining behind to contend with these unruly folks.

I have a picture in my mind of Titus running to the beach to meet the boat that brought that precious letter from his mentor and friend. I imagine him excitedly unrolling the scroll and beginning to read. He was probably expecting to be ordered back to Greece, but instead, he received instructions on how to teach these people. He must have thought that Paul was joking! THESE people? Temperate and self-controlled? Subject to authority? HUH??????

But Paul wasn't kidding. He really meant for Titus to teach these things. To do that, thought, Titus had to do something else first. He had to learn to love them. For me, this is the heart of the whole book. As a teacher, I believe teaching of all kinds is relational. Kids and adults alike will listen to, respect, and obey people they know care for them. Separate from a relationship, teaching doesn't work all that well. So Titus had to learn to love these exceedingly unlovely and unlovable people. These Cretans who, quite frankly, probably grossed him out, had been given to him by God to love. What a stretch that would have been for him.

We all, at some point, are called to love somebody it isn't easy to love. We all have those times and moments when we simply want to turn away or run away from somebody we just don't like or don't relate to. But that's not what Titus teaches us.

Paul ultimately reminds Titus that he was once a sinner, too, unsaved and unlovely in the eyes of God. And yet, God loves us all enough to save us anyway, in spite of ourselves. Our love toward others is to be an echo of that love; that sacrificial, intentional love that Christ showed the world from the cross. "Father, forgive them. They don't know what they are doing." If Jesus, on the cross, could pray for his tormenters, ought we not to love in the same way? The lesson of Titus, I think, is to love when love is difficult; to teach by example whether people want to learn or not, and to be always aware of our own shortcomings and original condition.

My challenge to myself and anyone who reads this is this: Love until it hurts. Love when it is hard. Love when love is not returned. Love no matter what. People will listen once they are convinced of your love for them. But be advised--some people are hard to convince. So above all, love with great persistence. The payoff may be the rejoicing of the angels.