The Grace That Trains You (Titus 2:11-15)

Introduction

What's the source of your daily actions? In other words, what's the software running behind your days, your choices, your commitments? That's the question the preacher opens with in his meditation on Titus 2:11-15, that magnificent passage at the heart of Paul's letter to Titus.

Because being authentic doesn't mean doing things sincerely if the engine underneath is off. You can try to live according to your feelings, your life philosophy, your personal motto, or what your group of friends expects, and completely miss what God made you for. The real question isn't whether you have an engine: you definitely have one. It's about knowing which source is truly shaping your life and your actions.

The week before, the church had looked at Titus 2:1-10: everyone has their place in the body of Christ, the old, the young, at home, at work. A beautiful vision, but one that can also become crushing if you receive it as a religion of performance. That's where verse 11 comes in with one small but crucial word: for. "For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all people."

We're shaped by grace. That's the secret to the authenticity of God's people: an inner transformation of a mind reshaped by the gospel of grace. The text unfolds in three movements: the grace of God has appeared (v. 11), the grace of God trains us (v. 12), the grace of God is Jesus, his person, his work, his purpose (v. 13-14).

Outline of the sermon

1. The grace of God has appeared (v. 11)

The verse opens in the past tense: "For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all people." God has shown, in the past, his grace, and he showed it at its fullest intensity. Where? Remember Moses asking the Lord, in Exodus 33: "Please show me your glory." And God, hiding him in the cleft of a rock, proclaimed who he is at the very core of his heart: the God of grace, of mercy, slow to anger, abounding in kindness and goodness, who forgives wrongdoing.

And where was this grace ultimately shown? At the cross of Jesus Christ. The message of the sermon proclaims that Jesus, the Son of God, died for sinful people who didn't deserve to be forgiven, so that, being forgiven, they would belong to him forever. It's free. It's undeserved. "Do you want to see the greatness and beauty of God? Look at the cross."

But don't get this wrong: the cross isn't just the doorway into the Christian faith. It's not just the moment you first believed. The grace of God that has appeared becomes the Christian's way of life. It's a source of salvation, and that source doesn't run dry after conversion. It keeps flowing every day. He saves you daily from your sin because he has committed himself to you. When you doubt that the Lord has forgiven you, all you need is to turn back to the cross to remember that yes, you are forgiven.

2. The grace of God trains us (v. 12)

Verse 12 is striking: "training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present age." Two movements, held together: renouncing and living.

This is where the paradox of Christian freedom plays out. Created by God to live with him, under his good authority, humanity believed the devil's lie: "Free yourself from God, and you'll truly be free." The result: we became slaves to our momentary cravings, our momentary passions, to whatever governs our stomachs and sometimes what's below them. The paradox is that grace frees us from that very slavery to make us responsible men and women who willingly say no to one way of life, and willingly say yes to another.

Renouncing ungodliness. Ungodliness is simply the opposite of the beautiful, good life that pleases God, the life he created us for. Watch the nuance here: this isn't "you must, you must not, you have to, you don't have to," the legalistic logic of the law. It's someone saying: "I'm renouncing this attitude, these words, that look of death I've sometimes given people, because that's not me anymore. That's not my identity anymore."

Living soberly, righteously, and godly. That means constantly reflecting on the grace God has shown you, so you can live out of that grace, and extend grace around you the way he has extended it to you. That's the transfiguration of the Christian life. "Not I, but Christ in me."

If you're looking for the strength to renounce whatever doesn't match your identity as God's people, don't turn inward to your own navel-gazing, your own abilities, your own good resolutions. Turn to the cross of Jesus Christ, to the love he shows you unconditionally. That's where the engine is that will give you the desire to choose good and reject evil. The more you do this, the more you'll see the works of darkness dry up in you, mechanically, organically.

Two warnings. First, grace isn't "a passing, vague, undefined good feeling." It's God's ongoing, intentional work in your daily life, the work of God that makes a sensible life possible for you. Second, it isn't the cheap grace Dietrich Bonhoeffer denounced, the idea that says: "God loves me unconditionally, so I can sin freely and ask forgiveness afterward." No. The grace God offers shapes you to reflect his holiness and his glory.

3. The grace of God is Jesus (v. 13-14)

Verse 13 continues: "looking for the blessed hope and appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ." Grace prepares us to meet the glorious Lord. This is what the preacher calls "Paul's verse in bold italics, highlighted": every word counts.

Here's a picture: when you welcome a buddy over to watch a game, you can greet him in your underwear with a beer in hand. When you welcome your girlfriend or boyfriend, you tidy up, you get dressed, you make sure you smell good. And when you welcome the mayor coming to visit your building, you prepare things in an even more ambitious way. Do you see where this is going? When you're waiting for the return of the King of kings, the one who gave himself for you, the way you prepare your life changes completely.

That's why you say no to certain things and yes to others: not only because that's no longer who you are, but because you're preparing for the coming of your great, glorious King. This blessed hope puts an end to despair. It lifts your head, it lifts your affections, it lifts your perspective.

And verse 14 fills out the picture: "who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify for himself a people for his own possession, zealous for good works." Notice the little word that. It pulls you out of your own self-centeredness. If he gave himself, it wasn't just for your own little personal spiritual comfort. It was to:

• redeem you from all iniquity, not part of it, from all of it;
• make you part of a people who belong to him: you have a received identity, and you belong to him forever;
• purify you;
• make you zealous for good works, a life devoted to the beautiful, good life that pleases God, that does good to the church and to those around you.

The preacher pushes the logic further: if you don't let yourself be shaped by grace, you end up producing an "anti-verse 14." As if the Lord hadn't really given himself. As if it weren't really to redeem you from all iniquity, but only from the ones you're aware of. As if you didn't really belong to him but still a bit to yourself too. As if purification stayed optional and zeal for good works could wait until later. These reflexes inevitably surface when you aren't rooted, grounded, and shaped in grace.

4. Living by grace isn't natural: the point of verse 15

Verse 15 closes forcefully: "Say these things and exhort and reprove with all authority. Let no one despise you." Why does Paul insist so strongly right after such a beautiful truth? Simply because, deep in our hearts, we naturally struggle to live by grace. Our inner software isn't spontaneously set to grace. It can default to law, laziness, performance, or the fear of getting it wrong. Living by grace as the primary source of our lives is anything but our natural human instinct. We need God's nature.

A friend of the preacher's uses an image worth remembering: the difference between making butter and making yogurt. To make butter, you take heavy cream, and you churn, and churn, and churn, and churn (again, again, again), and finally, from all that beating, you get butter. To make yogurt, you take whole milk, add the culture, and wait. It happens. On its own.

That's the difference between a religion of "you must, you must, you must" (where people become harsh toward each other, judging one another), and grace, that ingredient which, from the inside, transforms you naturally, the way milk becomes yogurt. "You have to trust grace. Striving gets you nowhere."

Key takeaways

• The source that drives your inner engine isn't the law, your good resolutions, or the crowd you run with: it's the grace of God.
• This grace was shown once for all at the cross, and it keeps flowing daily as a source of salvation in your life.
• Grace trains you: it teaches you to say "that's not me anymore" to ungodliness, and "here I am" to a sober, righteous, godly life. Not out of legalistic obligation, but out of a received identity.
• Grace isn't a vague warm feeling, nor is it cheap grace. It shapes you to reflect God's holiness and prepares you for the coming of the King.
• Living by grace isn't natural: it's yogurt, not butter. You trust the inner work of the Spirit rather than your own striving.

Personal application

A few questions to bring before God this week, as you slowly read Titus 2:11-15:

• What's actually driving your life right now? The cold logic of duty, the fear of getting it wrong, your own merits, or undeserved grace?
• When you doubt God's forgiveness, where do you turn your eyes: toward your performance, or toward the cross?
• What are you saying "that's not me anymore" to this week? Name one attitude, one word, one look that your identity in Christ leads you to renounce.
• Does the way you live carry the mark of "I'm preparing for the coming of the King"? Or of "I'm managing my comfort here and now"?
• Are you making butter or making yogurt? In other words: where are you striving, when the Lord is inviting you to let grace transform you from the inside out?

Bible references

• Titus 2:11-15 · the sermon's central text
• Titus 2:1-10 · everyone has their place in the body of Christ
• Titus 1:8 · the elder must be sober-minded
• Titus 2:5 · younger women encouraged to be sensible
• Exodus 33:18-19 · "Please show me your glory"
• Exodus 34:6-7 · a God of grace, merciful, slow to anger
• Luke 15:11-32 · the parable of the prodigal son and the Father's extravagant love
• Jeremiah 31:33 · the promise of the new covenant: "I will put my law in their inward parts"

FAQ

If grace saves me freely, why does verse 12 still ask me to renounce things?

Because grace doesn't just forgive you: it trains you and shapes you. This is the opposite of the "cheap grace" Bonhoeffer denounced. Renouncing, in Titus 2:12, has nothing to do with the legalism of "you must, you must not." It's a movement of identity: "that's not me anymore." You say no to ungodliness not to earn something, but because what Christ won for you has changed who you are.

How do you tell the difference between "living by grace" and "doing nothing while waiting for God to act"?

That's the butter-and-yogurt picture from the sermon. Living by grace isn't passivity: it's trust. You keep your eyes fixed on the cross, you let yourself be trained, you say yes and no according to the word. But you don't try to change yourself through sheer willpower and resolutions. You add the "culture" (the gospel of grace, the work of the Spirit), and you let God produce the fruit. "Not I, but Christ in me."

Practically speaking, how do I "look to the cross" when I doubt I'm forgiven?

By reminding yourself of two things. First, what Jesus did: he gave himself for you (v. 14), to redeem you from all iniquity. Not part of it. Not just the smaller sins. All of it. Second, what God promised: the message of the sermon proclaims that in Christ, you are forgiven, purified, and adopted as a member of a people who belong to him. Turn to that word, say it out loud if you need to, and let the Spirit convince your heart.