Titus 1

⁵ This is why I left you in Crete, so that you might put what remained into order, and appoint elders in every town as I directed you

^7a–c For an overseer, as God’s steward, must be above reproach…

I remember as a kid when I first learned to do the “Here’s the church” game with my hands. Remember? [Fingers interlocked, pointing down] “Here’s the church…” [Index fingers pointed upward] “…Here’s the steeple…” [Thumbs opened outward] “…Open the door…” [Hands flipped over, fingers wiggling upright] “…and see all the people!”

That is a fun little memory from my childhood. I bet many of you remember it as well.

Whatever you think of the theology of it, it is indeed a theological and ecclesiological assertion! That is, it does claim to say something about what a church is. But it is pretty limited, is it not? For instance, it says nothing about the organization of the church. Of course, how could it, really?

It is interesting to see how the organization and structure of the church seems to develop throughout the New Testament and in the history of the early church. The lack of exhaustive details likely contributed to the wide range of views represented in denominations today. Yet, the New Testament does paint a picture of the internal organization of the church: of how its leadership is structured.

Titus 1 is an important chapter in this regard, specifically verses 5 and 7. You might not think that these two verses would lead to such depths of discussion and debate among Christians, but, indeed, they play their part.

Why are these two verses important? Specifically, they are important for what they say in verse 5 about “elders” and, in verse 7, about “steward[s].” Let us consider these two verses and let us place them alongside other verses in the New Testament that speak of the right ordering of the church.

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Titus 1

¹ Paul, 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, ² in hope of eternal life, which God, who never lies, promised before the ages began ³ and at the proper time manifested in his word through the preaching with which I have been entrusted by the command of God our Savior; ⁴ To Titus, my true child in a common faith: Grace and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Savior.

I have in my hands a yellow, hardbound book published in 1975 and entitled Notes, Quotes, and Anecdotes. In and of itself, the book is unremarkable. It is a fairly typical collection of stories and quotes that preachers and public speakers can turn to for illustrative material.

I do not actually use the book. And yet, the book is one of my most prized possessions. Why? Because on the first page of the book there is a handwritten letter to me from a now-deceased minister who I revere. He was a Baptist pastor. He was my Grandfather. He gave me this book after I shared with him that God had called me into the ministry. He wrote the following in it (typed here as he wrote it):

To a special Grandson

Wyman Lewis Richardson

some one special to the family and especially to God

May he always put Jesus

first place and all the

rest will Come in place

always remember Wyman

God Loved you & Loves you

More than his own Life

St. John 3:16

See you in Heaven Wyman

All because of Jesus

Grandaddy Richardson

This is more of an inscription than an epistle, but there are similarities, I would argue. An older minister writes a younger minister to remind him of the gospel and call on him to focus on Jesus. I know what this little note means to me. It is priceless.

So, too, is Paul’s letter to Titus. In the book of Titus, the older minister, the Apostle Paul, writes to a younger minister. He reminds him of the gospel and calls on him to focus. And we are privileged to be able to consider this amazing letter today.

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1 Thessalonians 1

¹ Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy, To the church of the Thessalonians in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ: Grace to you and peace. ² We give thanks to God always for all of you, constantly mentioning you in our prayers, ³ remembering before our God and Father your work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. ⁴ For we know, brothers loved by God, that he has chosen you, ⁵ because our gospel came to you not only in word, but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with full conviction. You know what kind of men we proved to be among you for your sake. ⁶ And you became imitators of us and of the Lord, for you received the word in much affliction, with the joy of the Holy Spirit, ⁷ so that you became an example to all the believers in Macedonia and in Achaia. ⁸ For not only has the word of the Lord sounded forth from you in Macedonia and Achaia, but your faith in God has gone forth everywhere, so that we need not say anything. ⁹ For they themselves report concerning us the kind of reception we had among you, and how you turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God, ¹⁰ and to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, Jesus who delivers us from the wrath to come.

On April 15, 2019, the Cathedral of Notre-Dame de Paris burned. Do you remember? The roof was engulfed in flame. The roof was destroyed, the wooden spire, and some of the upper walls were damaged.

I recall watching those flames on the news with a degree of horror. That cathedral is one of the great historic works of art, and the sight of seeing its roof on fire was terrible. Anthony Esolen was moved to take up his pen and write while he watched it burn. In his reflections on the burning church, he revisited the question of whether or not modern people could actually build a church like that. Could we build such a thing today? I found what he wrote very moving:

People are saying that we cannot build such a thing now. That is true. We lack the artisans. We do not have the techne: we likely could not fashion a single many-colored jewel in the 16-rayed north window, with the Virgin Mary and the Christ Child in the center of all. We cannot make the glass. We cannot mix the colors. We would have to guess and do our best.

But we would not build it now. It is not just that our hands lack the skill. Our hearts do not beat warmly enough, and our minds do not see. Think of that Mother and Child. What did it mean? The whole of creation and the life of man revolve, like the spokes of a wheel, about the submission of a woman to the will of God, and the humility of Christ, who emptied himself, and came to dwell among us in human form, not as an Alaric or Augustus, but as a servant, obedient unto death.

What have we built? What do we love?[1]

In other words, Esolen argues, we would not build such a great church today not only because we lack the skill, but mainly because we lack the love to do so.

Those two questions are haunting and cutting: “What have we built? What do we love?”

Esolen was caught in a moment while writing that, but in waxing eloquent he put his finger on something very important: Without love, you cannot build a church. And I do not mean a building. You actually can build a building without love (though Esolen likely has a point about the quality and kind of church building you can build without love), but you certainly cannot be a church without love.

It is the heart of the church that matters, not the edifice, not the structure. It is telling that when Paul wrote his first letter to the Thessalonians, he leaned heavily into this truth. He spoke not only of his heart for the Thessalonian Christians but also of their heart for him and for the gospel and for Jesus and for the body of Christ the world over.

It is a heart turned to Jesus that makes a church, whether we have a building or not.

I am calling this sermon on 1 Thessalonians 1 “A Goodly Church.” Let us consider the church’s heart and what it should be.

Paul is writing this first letter to the Christians of Thessalonica. In Acts 17, we are given the historical background and context of the letter.

¹ Now when they had passed through Amphipolis and Apollonia, they came to Thessalonica, where there was a synagogue of the Jews. ² And Paul went in, as was his custom, and on three Sabbath days he reasoned with them from the Scriptures, ³ explaining and proving that it was necessary for the Christ to suffer and to rise from the dead, and saying, “This Jesus, whom I proclaim to you, is the Christ.” ⁴ And some of them were persuaded and joined Paul and Silas, as did a great many of the devout Greeks and not a few of the leading women. ⁵ But the Jews were jealous, and taking some wicked men of the rabble, they formed a mob, set the city in an uproar, and attacked the house of Jason, seeking to bring them out to the crowd. ⁶ And when they could not find them, they dragged Jason and some of the brothers before the city authorities, shouting, “These men who have turned the world upside down have come here also, ⁷ and Jason has received them, and they are all acting against the decrees of Caesar, saying that there is another king, Jesus.” ⁸ And the people and the city authorities were disturbed when they heard these things.⁹ And when they had taken money as security from Jason and the rest, they let them go. ¹⁰ The brothers immediately sent Paul and Silas away by night to Berea, and when they arrived they went into the Jewish synagogue.

In short, Paul and Silas are in Thessalonica. They preach Jesus. Some of the Thessalonians believe. They found a church there. Then, Paul and Barnabas are sent out of the city as many of those in the synagogues lash out in anger against the believers there. So, in 1 Thessalonians, we have the letter that Paul sends back to the young church in Thessalonica after he and Silas had to leave.

Craig Keener writes:

First and Second Thessalonians may be the earliest of Paul’s extant letters, written shortly after the evangelization of the Thessalonians, hence by about A.D. 50, within two decades of Jesus’ resurrection.[2]

In the first chapter, Paul highlights the beauty of this new church, which is to say, he highlights their heart.

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Matthew 28

¹¹ While they were going, behold, some of the guard went into the city and told the chief priests all that had taken place. ¹² And when they had assembled with the elders and taken counsel, they gave a sufficient sum of money to the soldiers ¹³ and said, “Tell people, ‘His disciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep.’ ¹⁴ And if this comes to the governor’s ears, we will satisfy him and keep you out of trouble.” ¹⁵ So they took the money and did as they were directed. And this story has been spread among the Jews to this day. ¹⁶ Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. ¹⁷ And when they saw him they worshiped him, but some doubted. ¹⁸ And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. ¹⁹ Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, ²⁰ teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

It is interesting how different denominations seem to like different Bible verses. Presbyterians really like the verses that talk about covenants. Wesleyan Holiness folk like verses that talk about sanctification. Episcopalians like verses that talk about justice. Reformed Baptists like Romans 9. And Southern Baptists really like John 3:16 and Matthew 28:16–20, or the great salvation verse and The Great Commission verses that establish the missionary mandate of the church.

And it is interesting how human beings can treasure something so much that we miss some obvious and surprising realities that sit right next to the things we treasure.

For example, has it occurred to you that Matthew 28, the last chapter of the book of Matthew, actually contains twoproclamation commissions? And that they are back-to-back? It is true! Just before The Great Commission that ends Matthew’s gospel, there is another commission to go and spread a message. But this first commission is the antithesis of The Great Commission. In fact, we will call in The Shameful Commission.

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The Sunday, September 15, sermon, “The Least of These,” does not have a manuscript. But you can watch video here or hear audio here.

I am looking at a still from an ABC news story about tornados that ravaged a region of the country a few years ago. The image is startling but, sadly, all-too familiar: trees stripped bare, splintered lumber piled haphazardly on the foundation where a house used to be, insulation, debris, devastation, and, as often happens, a beautiful blue sky in the aftermath.

The tornado came. The tornado destroyed. The tornado left.

It is a picture of devastation.

But, in this picture, there is something else. There, right in the middle, stands a large, steel box. It is, in fact, a storm shelter, anchored into the foundation. And it is standing. The debris is literally piled around it and, on one side, upon it. But the shelter remains. And, most importantly, the family that hid in that shelter also remains. It saved their lives.

The image looks like everything in the world had been violently shaken, but the shelter could withstand it.

The shelter was a safe refuge.

The shelter could not be shaken.

The writer of Hebrews will use imagery similar to this when he says something most fascinating about the Kingdom of God.

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Matthew 27

⁶² The next day, that is, after the day of Preparation, the chief priests and the Pharisees gathered before Pilate ⁶³ and said, “Sir, we remember how that impostor said, while he was still alive, ‘After three days I will rise.’ ⁶⁴ Therefore order the tomb to be made secure until the third day, lest his disciples go and steal him away and tell the people, ‘He has risen from the dead,’ and the last fraud will be worse than the first.” ⁶⁵ Pilate said to them, “You have a guard of soldiers. Go, make it as secure as you can.” ⁶⁶ So they went and made the tomb secure by sealing the stone and setting a guard.

Matthew 28

¹ Now after the Sabbath, toward the dawn of the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. ² And behold, there was a great earthquake, for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. ³ His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. ⁴ And for fear of him the guards trembled and became like dead men. ⁵ But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. ⁶ He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. ⁷ Then go quickly and tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead, and behold, he is going before you to Galilee; there you will see him. See, I have told you.” ⁸ So they departed quickly from the tomb with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. ⁹ And behold, Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came up and took hold of his feet and worshiped him. ¹⁰ Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee, and there they will see me.”

Some years back, the philosopher and theologian David Bentley Hart published a list of his favorite fiction books. Among them was The Blind Owl by the Iranian author Sadegh Hedayat. It is a strange an interesting book. In it, the protagonist reflects from his sickbed on his disinterest in religion and in God.

Several days ago she brought me a prayer book that had a layer of dust on it—not only had I no use for a prayer book, but likewise no sort of rabble book, writing, or idea had any use for me. What use had I for their lies and nonsense, was not I, myself, the product of a long line of past generations and were not their inherited experiences found in me, was not the past in my being?—But none of this has ever had any effect on me: neither mosque, nor the call of the muezzin, nor ablutions and spitting, and bending over and standing upright before an almighty god with absolute power that one has to converse with in Arabic. Beforehand, when I was healthy, if I several times obligatorily went to the mosque and tried to harmonize my heart with those of others, inevitably my eyes would wander and stare at the glazed tiles and the forms and patterns of the walls of the mosque, transporting me to the realm of pleasant dreams, and in this way I would find a means of escape for myself—During prayer I would close my eyes and hold my palms in front of my face—in this night that I had created for myself, like the words they unconsciously repeat while sleeping, I would pray, but the utterance of these words was not from deep within my heart, for I would much rather talk to a friend or an acquaintance than with God, with Almighty God! For God was too much for me.

Whilst lying in a warm and damp bed, all of these issues were not worth more than a grain of barley to me, and at these times I did not want to know whether a God truly existed or if it was an object the rulers on earth have conceived to consolidate their divine station and ravage their subjects—to reflect the images on earth onto the sky—I only wanted to know whether or not I would make it through the night until the next morning—Confronted with death, I sensed how weak and childish were religion, faith and belief, almost a kind of diversion for healthy and fortunate persons—Confronted with the horrifying actuality of death and the suffering that I went through, all that they had inculcated in me about reward and punishment of the soul and the Day of Resurrection had become an insipid lie, and when confronted with the fear of death the prayers that they had taught me had no effect.—[1]

This strikes me as tragic and heartbreaking: a sick man scoffing at the idea of resurrection, seeing it as “an insipid lie” that had “no effect” on him when confronted “with the fear of death.”

Hedayat himself was a talented but tragic figure. Consider his passing:

In 1951, overwhelmed by despair, Hedayat left Tehrān and traveled to Paris, where he rented an apartment. A few days before his death, Hedayat tore up all of his unpublished work. On 9 April 1951, he plugged all the doors and windows of his rented apartment with cotton, then turned on the gas valve, committing suicide by carbon monoxide poisoning. Two days later, his body was found by police, with a note left behind for his friends and companions that read, “I left and broke your heart. That is all.”[2]

He was 48 years old when he took his own life.

I do not claim to know all that was going on in Hedayat’s life, but it does strike me that trust in a good God and in the reality of life after death and in the reality of resurrection could have helped him immensely.

Indeed, the resurrection of Jesus is presented in scripture as the antidote to despair: the despair of the disciples when confronted with the reality of death and the despair of the world at large when confronted with the same. At the end of Matthew 27 and the beginning of Matthew 28, we find the powers seeking to stop the resurrection from taking place…and failing miserably in their attempt. And we may thank God for this!

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In the October 10, 1972, edition of The Sumter Daily Item, the newspaper of my hometown, Sumter, South Carolina, there is a picture that I love. It is a picture of my grandfather, Leon “Rosie” Richardson, holding a large pear in his right hand while he looks down proudly at  it. In his left hand, he is holding a writing pen beside the pear to grant the viewer perspective on just how big the pear is.

The caption is headlined “A-Pears To Be Big” and reads as follows:

Leon Richardson displays whopping Bartlette pear he grew on his land. The king-sized fruit weighed in at 2¼ pounds, about the average, says Richardson, of most of the pears he grows.

Again, I love this picture! My granddad looks so happy, so proud, and, knowing him as I did, I can just tell he is absolutely delighted with himself and his giant pear! I will say that after discussing that picture with my brother, Condy, we both are a wee-bit skeptical about his claim that 2¼ pounds was “about the average” size of the pears on that tree. And that skepticism is for one reason: My brothers and I used to climb in that tree and I have eaten many of those pears and unless something pretty amazing happened between October 1972 and May 1974 (the year I was born), those things were not, on average, that size!

Regardless, it is all great fun, and it is a great picture, and it brings back wonderful memories!

It is also an image steeped in New Testament imagery, for the image of fruit-bearing appears not-infrequently in the pages of scripture. And, indeed, the image of producing the fruit of the Kingdom appears in scripture as well.

To speak of fruit in the biblical sense is to speak of that which we are to produce and to speak of the kinds of lives that we are to live. It is to speak, in other words, of the impact of the Kingdom of God on the church, on our lives together, and on the results of our walking with Jesus.

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Matthew 27

⁵⁴ When the centurion and those who were with him, keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they were filled with awe and said, “Truly this was the Son of God!” ⁵⁵ There were also many women there, looking on from a distance, who had followed Jesus from Galilee, ministering to him, ⁵⁶ among whom were Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James and Joseph and the mother of the sons of Zebedee. ⁵⁷ When it was evening, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who also was a disciple of Jesus. ⁵⁸ He went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then Pilate ordered it to be given to him. ⁵⁹ And Joseph took the body and wrapped it in a clean linen shroud ⁶⁰ and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had cut in the rock. And he rolled a great stone to the entrance of the tomb and went away. ⁶¹ Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were there, sitting opposite the tomb.

Strangely enough, the Shroud of Turin, the famous cloth that many allege was the burial cloth of Jesus and many allege was not, has been showing up in the news a lot lately.

Dr. Russell Moul has written an article entitled “What’s Going on with the Shroud of Turin?” that seeks to explain why. Moul first points out that the current scientific consensus is that the shroud dates to 1260–1390 AD on the basis of radiocarbon dating conducted in the 1980s. Then Moul explains why the recent uptick in interest:

However, a study conducted by Italian scientist Liberato De Caro offered an alternative perspective on the Shroud’s age. The results were published in 2022 but have only now caught media attention for some reason. De Caro and his team from the Institute of Crystallography in Bari, Italy, examined the artifact with a new technique, known as wide-angle X-ray scattering, in a study conducted in 2019.

According to this paper, the Turin Shroud dates back to 2,000 years ago, contemporaneous with when the historical figure of Jesus was said to have lived.

The researchers say cellulose found in the Shroud’s fibres has aged slowly since the 14^th century because of the lower ambient temperatures in the rooms where it has been housed. This, they argue, means that most of the Shroud’s aging occurred before the 1300s.

“The degree of natural aging of the cellulose that constitutes the linen of the investigated sample, obtained by X-ray analysis, showed that the [Turin Shroud] fabric is much older than the seven centuries proposed by the 1988 radiocarbon dating”, De Caro and his team write.

However, the authors stress that their results can only be accurate if future research finds evidence that the relic was kept safely at an average room temperature of around 22°C (71.6 °F) with a relative humidity of about 55 percent for 1,300 years before it appeared in the historical record.[1]

This is intriguing. Mould does caution the reader, however. He points out that some of Liberato De Caro’s earlier work on and hypotheses concerning the shroud has been seriously questioned.

I supposed folks will be arguing about that cloth long after I am dead and gone! But it is interesting, is it not? The burial of Jesus and the details surrounding it still hold the attention of the world! And this is only fitting. For the death and burial of Jesus are at the heart of the greatest good news the world has ever heard!

In Matthew’s account, we find a number of figures surrounding the cross at the time of Jesus’ death. Each of then offers a powerful depiction of various human responses to Jesus.

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