When Character is the Message

What Titus 1 teaches us about the power of a consistnet life

There’s a man in my mind when I read Titus 1. I don’t know his name. But I’ve met him hundreds of times over the past 30 years of preaching. He sits in the pew on Sunday morning with his arms crossed — not out of arrogance, but out of exhaustion. He’s been burned. He trusted somebody who wore the right title and said the right things, and somewhere along the way, that person proved to be something entirely different in private than they were in public. And now? Now he’s not sure he trusts anybody.

Maybe that’s you today.

Or maybe you’re on the other side of it. Maybe you’re the one who knows — deep down — that who you are on Sunday morning and who you are on Tuesday afternoon don’t quite match up. And that gap? That gap is terrifying.

Titus 1 has something to say to both of you.

The Island of Crete Had a Problem

Paul left Titus on the island of Crete for a reason. And Crete wasn’t exactly a model community. In fact, Paul quotes one of their own poets in verse 12 — Cretans are always liars, evil beasts, lazy gluttons. Now that’s not the kind of thing you put in your church’s visitor brochure. But Paul wasn’t sugar-coating the situation. The church on Crete was young. It was surrounded by a culture of deception and moral drift. And it desperately needed something solid to stand on.

So what does Paul tell Titus to do?

Appoint leaders of character. Simple as that.

Not leaders of charisma. Not leaders with the biggest social media following or the most impressive résumé. Character. Who are you when nobody’s looking? That’s the question Titus 1 keeps asking.

Look at the List

Starting in verse 6, Paul lays out the qualifications for an elder. Please notice that the vast majority of this list has nothing to do with what a man can do. It’s about who he is.

Blameless. The husband of one wife. Not given to wine. Not violent. Not greedy. Hospitable. A lover of good. Self-controlled. Upright. Holy.

We need to see that Paul isn’t describing a superhero. He’s describing a consistent man. A man whose home life matches his church life. A man whose reputation in the community holds up under scrutiny. A man who, if you asked his neighbors or his kids, they’d tell you the same story you’d hear from his Sunday school class.

That’s not perfection. That’s integrity. And there’s a difference.

Here’s Where the Fear Comes In

I think a lot of us are afraid of this passage — and we don’t even realize it. Because when we read a list like this, our first instinct isn’t inspiration. It’s shame. We look at “self-controlled” and think about last week. We look at “blameless” and think about what we’ve been carrying. We look at “upright” and feel the gap between who we are and who we want to be.

And fear whispers the same lie it always does: You’ll never measure up. So why even try?

There are many times when we may feel the distance between the standard and where we stand. We never tell anyone. We just carry it. Quietly. Alone.

Does that sound familiar?

But Here’s What Paul Is Actually Saying

Go back to verse 1. Before Paul ever mentions elders or qualifications, he grounds the whole letter in something amazing. He calls himself a servant of God and an apostle of Jesus Christ, for the sake of the faith of God’s elect and their knowledge of the truth, which accords with godliness.

In other words, the goal is godliness. Not perfection performed for an audience. Godliness. A genuine, growing, real-life walk with God that slowly, sometimes painfully slowly, shapes who you are.

And then look at verse 2. Paul mentions the hope of eternal life, which God, who never lies, promised before the ages began.

God. Who never lies. Promised.

You want to talk about character? The whole reason character matters in this passage is that it points people to a God whose character never wavers or shifts. He never says one thing on Sunday and lives differently on Tuesday.

The elder of blameless character isn’t the source of hope; he’s a signpost pointing to the One who is.

This Changes Everything

If you’re the person sitting with arms crossed, burned, skeptical, wondering if you can trust anyone in the church again, Titus 1 isn’t asking you to trust a title. It’s pointing you toward a God whose character is unimpeachable. People will fail you. Preachers, elders, deacons — we’re all works in progress. But God? He’s not.

And if you’re the one who feels the gap, who knows that Tuesday version of you needs some work, Titus 1 isn’t a gavel coming down on your head. It’s an invitation. It’s the Spirit of God saying, “I’m not done with you yet. Let’s close the gap together.”

That’s grace. And that’s what this whole letter is about.

Character isn’t what gets you into God’s family

But it is, slowly, surely, one honest day at a time, what shows the world that God’s family is worth joining. That’s the journey. From the fear of not measuring up to the faith that God is at work in you, even now. Even today.

Keep walking.

Matthew 5:16 — “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”