For we were once ourselves also without intelligence, disobedient, wandering in error, serving various lusts and pleasures, living in malice and envy, hateful, [and] hating one another.
Paul has just told Titus to urge believers to be gentle toward everyone (v. 1–2), and then he gives his reason in a single word: "For." What follows is not a picture of other people but a portrait of ourselves before grace found us — seven marks of the human heart without God.
The verse is an argument, not a digression. It supplies the first of two grounds for the meek behaviour just commanded.
In the last chapter (Titus 3) the exhortation continues, now about what lies more outside... Two reasons confirm believers in this. The first is that we ourselves were once so evil; the second is that God has been so good to us.
This shapes how we treat the people whose faults annoy us most.
It reminds us that we too were once in the condition that we now dislike in others. This should humble us, and give us a spirit of patient consideration toward them. The evils listed in verse 3 mark all people. Some show up more in one person than in another, but all have the same nature that produces them. Nothing but the grace of God in Christ could change this in us. Others need that same grace if their condition is to be any different.
The list is not a study of criminals. It answers a question.
It is a look backward at what they were before they were born again. These are the true marks of man in his natural state. Here is an answer to the question, What is sin? Sin is foolishness, disobedience and deception. It is slavery to lusts and to pleasures that never satisfy. It is a life of malice, envy and hatred. It is lawlessness. And that is the natural man in every age.
Note who signs his name to it. The writer of the sentence puts himself inside it.
The mind of Paul was of no mean order, and not uncultivated; yet by the Spirit he thus writes: — "We were once ourselves also without intelligence, disobedient, wandering in error, serving various lusts and pleasures, living in malice and envy, hateful [and] hating one another."
The folly named here has nothing to do with a low IQ. Education can even sharpen the contrast.
To the Greek mind especially, perhaps no description was less welcome than the one the apostle starts with: our folly, our lack of understanding before God... Picture a man full of science, sound information and learning, as in Romans 2. Yet he is prey to every falsehood about God, entirely without Him, and dead to any living relationship with Him... On earth the animals look down; man alone looks up. Sin has ruined this completely, while the responsibility remains.
Disobedience here is not a single stumble. It is the settled shape of a whole life.
This is the universal condition of man; so he lives and dies in his natural state, never once obeying God here below. Christ alone delivers us from a state so desperate. He is Himself the obedient Man, though far more than man, and He delivers by giving us His own life through faith.
The strangest thing about this slavery is that the slave feels free. Doing your own will is how the chain holds.
We were "slaves to various passions and pleasures" — all the more slaves because we flattered ourselves that we were the freest of people. We did our own will and pleased ourselves. We chose our pleasures here or there as we liked. What was this but to be slaves of the devil, each of us chasing his own passions and pleasures? To do our own will is to fall into his slavery. Christ was the blessed contrast. He did not please Himself but always did the will of God, whatever it cost.
Envy and malice come from a heart with no real love in it, however well it thought of itself. (Older translations read "hateful" where the ESV has "hated by others.")
Conflict of will broke through the calmest surface of good nature. Gusts of feeling, even of passion, swept us along now and then. In short we were, as it says here, "passing our days in malice and envy," whatever good opinion we had of ourselves or prized in one another. We had no love in any divine or real sense of doing good without thought of self. We disliked whatever condemned us. We envied in others what we did not have.
Verse 3 exists for the sake of verse 4. The dark list is there so the love that follows can be weighed against it.
Notice the sevenfold description of man's fallen condition, the exact and terrible picture of human depravity, guilt and ruin... Yet see the glorious, the surprising contrast: "But after the kindness and love of God toward man appeared." Divine love goes far beyond human depravity — in spite of all the judgment we deserved, in spite of the hateful condition... weigh the one against the other and see how greatly the love of God outweighs the guilt of man.
- Mirror — The verse looks back at what we were, not at what others are. Every item on the list belonged to the writer too.
- Diagnosis — Seven words define sin: foolishness, disobedience, deception, slavery, malice, envy and hatred. That is the natural man in every age.
- Chains — Those who do their own will feel the freest of all. That is what makes the slavery complete.
- Contrast — The list is dark so that the "but" of verse 4 can outweigh it. Set God's love beside human ruin, and the love far outweighs it.
- Conduct — Grace alone made the difference in us. So the same evils in others call for gentleness, not contempt.
But when the kindness and love to man of our Saviour God appeared,
Verse 3 has just described what we all once were, right down to hateful. Then the sentence turns. Two things about God broke into that scene: His goodness and His love for man.
The turn comes at the worst possible moment, and that is the point.
Man's extremity was God's opportunity, as always, then above all. When judgment might have seemed most due, His kindness and His dear love toward man appeared. Rescues on earth fell far short of the dire need. Prophets had spoken about it in vain. The most striking powers, miracles and signs were in vain too. Man was lost. Would God appear to save him?
Translations do not agree on how the two words relate.
God's love toward man is a single word, philanthrōpia. The Authorised Version falls short here: it merges "the philanthropy" of God into His kindness. But in the Greek each of the two has its own article, so they are presented separately, however closely connected they are.
That word gives us our English word "philanthropy." It means more than general goodwill.
Hateful we were, every one of us. Each of us was blind to the hateful features in ourselves. Yet we were quite alive to what was hateful in other people, and so the world is full of hatred. Now God looks down on this scene, and the light of His kindness and love breaks into that world of hatred. That God should love the unlovable is wonderful. That He should love the truly hateful is more wonderful still! … The word shows more than that God loves man as He loves all His creatures. It shows that He has a special affection for man — a warm corner in His heart kept for man, if we may put it that way.
The word points to something already done, and done in the open.
God, who is holy and unbending in righteousness, is also the God of gracious goodness in His own nature, and He has a most special love toward man. This is no longer hidden. It is no longer something to wait for. It has appeared so fully that God Himself could not add to the full expression of His love. "The law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ." It is true that no one has ever seen God. But that in no way hindered His kindness at work, or the proof of His love to man. On the contrary, it only gave occasion for its richest display. "The only Son, who is at the Father's side, He has made Him known."
The verse does not say a kind Jesus rescued us from a stern God. The Saviour named here is God Himself.
"God our Saviour" is a wonderful title. That He should Himself seek to save rebels against His own majesty is a marvel indeed. … He was under no obligation to save any of His rebellious creatures. He might have declared Himself "God our Judge" to men as He has to angels. … "God our Saviour" is not so familiar a thought to some as "Jesus our Saviour." The popular idea is a severe God and a gracious Jesus. … "God our Saviour" means that the very One we have sinned against has Himself, in His great love, provided all that His throne demanded. Who would distrust such a God?
The same letter gives that title to both God and Christ.
It is striking how this letter uses the term Saviour for both God and the Lord Jesus, in a way that assures us that Jesus is God. In Titus 3, it is "God our Saviour" in verse 4, and "Christ our Saviour" in verse 6. In Titus 2, it is "our great God and Saviour Jesus Christ" in verse 13.
Sun and rain fall on everyone, but that is not the kindness this verse means.
I don't deny that God is good. He sends His rain on the just and the unjust. He makes His sun shine on the evil as well as on the good. But that is only in the way of providence. The real kindness and love of God come out in the giving of His own blessed Son, and in that Son dying on the tree — the just for the unjust. The kindness of God! Do you know it? Have you tasted it?
God's dealing with us sets the pattern for how we deal with others.
What has made us different from others is not some merit in ourselves, some personal superiority: we were once just as they are. It is the tender love and grace of the God of mercy. … We act towards others who are still in the mire of this world as God has acted towards us to bring us out of it.
- Timing. The kindness appeared exactly where judgment seemed due — man's extremity was God's opportunity.
- Two words. Kindness and philanthrōpia stand apart. God shows not just general goodness, but a special affection for man.
- Appeared. No longer hidden and no longer awaited — displayed so fully that God could add nothing more to it.
- Saviour. "God our Saviour" is the very One we sinned against. This letter gives Christ the same title, assuring us who Jesus is.
- Result. Since nothing in us earned it, we treat others still in the mire exactly as God treated us to get us out.
not on the principle of works which [have been done] in righteousness which *we* had done, but according to his own mercy he saved us through [the] washing of regeneration and renewal of [the] Holy Spirit,
Paul has just described the kind of people he and Titus once were, and the picture is not flattering. Then God becomes the subject of the sentence: if our own record ruled us out, what did He act on instead?
Paul does not say our works were too few. He says the kind of works needed were never there at all.
God rules out a man's works as a ground for salvation, and how merciful that is. By nature we stood before God as unrighteous. How could an unrighteous man do works in righteousness? There is indeed one work done in righteousness, and it is infinite. Christ, the Righteous One, came to do God's will and did it all perfectly. As He said when dying, "It is finished."
God acted on His own mercy instead. Nothing in us could change our nature — Cretan or otherwise.
The Holy Spirit begins by excluding all works of righteousness of our own, for these could not change the nature of a Cretan, nor of any other son of Adam. Mercy would come down to us where we were; there was divine pity and compassion for such wretches.
In most passages salvation is a work achieved outside us. This one is different.
In Scripture salvation is generally connected with a work accomplished for us... This passage, however, is an exception to that general rule. Here we are saved by a work done upon us and in us. The work in us is quite as necessary as the work for us. This is very plain if we consider the picture of Israel's deliverance from Egypt. God's mighty work for them saved them out of the land of slavery. Yet despite all the wonders done on their behalf, the vast majority of them fell in the wilderness and never reached the land of promise.
The word "regeneration" appears just once more in the New Testament, and that other use shapes its meaning here.
The word is used in only one other place in the New Testament, Matthew 19:28. There it points to the new order of things that God will set up in the day of Christ's glory. We do not have that new order yet. But we have come under the washing, the cleansing, the moral and spiritual renewal that fits that day.
Commentators differ on what the "washing" itself points to. Some read it as the new birth, the thing Jesus explained to a man named Nicodemus, and they rule out any link with baptism:
The washing (or bath) of regeneration is the new birth. Of this our Lord spoke to Nicodemus (John 3)... The washing has nothing whatever to do with water-baptism. Water-baptism cannot save a sinner, or help save him, or produce regeneration.
Others read it as a change of standing, with baptism as its picture rather than its cause:
The "washing of regeneration" does not refer to that inward work done in the soul when a person is born through the word of truth. That inward work comes in the next clause, "the renewing of the Holy Spirit." The washing refers instead to the new place or position into which God brings the believer through the death and resurrection of the Lord Jesus. And of this, baptism is not the means but the sign, or "figure," as Peter speaks (1 Peter 3:21).
Whichever reading you take, the two phrases do not repeat each other.
It is not to be thought that these two things are exactly the same. The washing of regeneration looks at our old condition, and it places us outside of that condition. The renewing of the Holy Spirit looks more at that inward work which the Spirit of God makes ours.
That inward work does not stop at the new birth.
What is the renewing of the Holy Spirit? It is distinct from regeneration. The Holy Spirit is the active agent in the new birth. He gives the new nature and then lives in the believer, and He does His blessed work by renewing the inward man day by day (2 Corinthians 4:16).
Paul tells Titus to keep insisting on this, and the reason is practical.
The apostle is laying down the only ground of power for a life that bears fruit. So he urges Titus to insist, always and fully, on the sure but exclusive truth of salvation by grace, in all its fullness and reality... Without it there is no readiness or power for good works. Without it the conscience is clouded and the heart hardened.
- Mercy, not merit. Works in righteousness were never an option for the unrighteous; Christ alone did the one perfect work.
- Mercy came down. Nothing in us could change our nature, so God's compassion reached us where we were.
- Mercy works inside. Here salvation is a work done upon us and in us. Israel was saved out of Egypt by a work done for them, yet most of them fell in the wilderness.
- Mercy in two parts. The washing puts us outside our old condition; the renewing is the Spirit's inward work. Commentators differ over whether the washing is new birth itself or a change of position pictured in baptism.
- Mercy produces fruit. Grace received in full is the only power for good works; where it is unknown, the conscience stays clouded.