In Titus 2, God lays out a divine mandate for every older woman in the church to teach those coming along behind.
Every. Woman. (And I said I'd quit using single sentences for emphasis. Sigh.)
I'm to teach. You're to teach. All God's women oughta teach.
But...
Before a woman begins to teach, it matters who she is.
It. Matters. Who I am. What I am.
Let me just get this out there...
I have been writing for a long time. You may have been reading my posts. If so, thank you!
But I've not been writing my main message, the thing burning inside me since I was a teenager. I've been scared to, because this is so good, so life-changing, and I don't want to mess it up.
But I'm convinced. Time is short. Life is short. How do I know I'm going to live to become this awesome old lady who writes so well you can't put it down?
I might not.
And you might just need this wonderful truth now. Even delivered by painfully imperfect me.
So I'm over my perfectionism. I have to start writing about THIS. It's raw, it's not perfectly written, but I can tell you it works.
See, I started writing this when I was a new bride. It was such good stuff, but I tried teaching it and people looked at me like a new calf staring at a gate. Like, girl, grow up and then see if you believe this.
So I've done a bit of growing, and I still believe this. Some of it, that is. If you were in my ninth and tenth grade girls Sunday School class back in 2004/5/6, I have searched whether I would change anything I told you.
I would point you more to the gospel. I would lift up Jesus higher and tell you these bad directions you're going, He's already paid the price, and anytime you want, you can head back to Him. He's waiting to bless you.
But all the stuff from Titus 2, it's good. Really good. I take none of it back.
And I'm done sitting on it.
So that's what's new here. I'm ready to share with you MY MESSAGE, which is the message every believing woman has been commissioned by God to share just as surely as we've all been commissioned to share Jesus' gospel.
So here we go!
The aged women likewise, that they be in behaviour as becometh holiness, not false accusers, not given to much wine, teachers of good things...
First, before teaching about marriage, parenting, good deeds or obedience, aged women are called to be in behavior as becometh holiness.
Calling something "becoming" is the old-fashioned word for "looking good."
A good analogy of "becoming" is colors. There are certain colors aren't becoming to me; they don't make me look good.
If I wear pink, lime green, or beige, people feel sorry for me and stay away so they don't catch what I've come down with.
I need browns and oranges. Warm colors make me look good. They are becoming to me.
"Behavior that becometh holiness" means behavior that makes holiness look good.
(Now before you raise an eyebrow that I'm using Old English, and, "Why don't I just use a newer translation," here's why. Some people will tell you the King James is hard to understand, but my littles have no problem with it as long as I read with excitement. Sure, some parts are difficult, but from my experience, any book written in heaven takes God to make it click. To me, those hard sections in the King James read even harder in newer versions. Studying antiquated words like "becometh" deepens my Scriptural insight while increasing my understanding of English and history. Plus the Old English offers insight through that purer vocabulary. Like, did you know "thee" and "thou" means something different than "you" and can change the interpretation of a verse? Look it up! Very cool!)
Making Holiness Attractive
So, if I want to obey God and be qualified to teach younger women, the first thing I must be is a woman whose behavior makes holiness look attractive to the next generation.
That's a tall order.
That means I shouldn't make holiness look not fun.
Holiness comes from the word "hale," as in, "healthy." Whole. Not rotten. Holiness is awesome. And I need to make it look awesome.
If I make holiness look bad, none of the other things I say mean much.
When I walk around angry at my loved ones...
scared about how awful the world is...
or hurt about how I've been treated...
and then I try to teach the next generation about holiness, they get an ugly picture.
Ouch.
Instead, I need to look at Jesus when I'm angry and think of all He puts up with from me. How can I not forgive when I'm so thoroughly forgiven?
I need to look to Jesus when I'm scared about this evil world and remember that He is greater, and He is in me!
I need to look to Jesus when I'm hurt by others and rejoice that I'm picked to enter the fellowship of His sufferings. He's hurt when I'm hurt. He's right here. What joy hurt can bring when it ushers me into the knowledge of God.
Follow Me...Where?
"Behaviour that becometh holiness" also means I have to be holy. I shouldn’t lie/be unclear about what holiness is. I can't make holiness look good if I'm not holy.
If my behavior makes holiness look outdated, like “well nobody actually does what the Bible says anymore,” then I’m lying about holiness if I then try to tell people to follow Jesus.
If my version of the gospel makes people want to sin, I'm preaching a false gospel. True? Of course true. People did this so much throughout history, preaching a Jesus that didn’t match the Bible, that plenty of Jesus’ chosen, the Jews, have a hard time believing Jesus didn’t hate Jews.
Yes, the Jesus who came first to the house of Israel.
And people in other cultures have a hard time today believing that Jesus isn’t for all manner of unholiness because of how Christians act.
So the first thing a woman must be to obey this mandate is holy.
Jesus said, “Be ye holy, for I am holy.”
The only way to be holy is to look to Jesus, who shall transform us into His image as we look and live. “Look unto me, and be ye saved,” He says, “For I am God, and there is none else.” When we shall see Him, we shall be like Him. When we see Him, grace is on the way. And we are that much closer to being qualified to make a difference in the next generation. That’s enough for now. My toes are sore. Stepping on my own toes. Whoowee.
