Titus 3:9-11

The Profitable Art of Picking the Right Fight Text: Titus 3:9-11

Introduction: A Church Militant, Not A Church Quibbling

We live in an age that is allergic to sharp edges. Our generation of Christians has been catechized by the world to believe that the highest Christian virtue is to be nice, inoffensive, and above all, accommodating. The result is a church that is flabby, sentimental, and about as useful in a real spiritual war as a wet noodle. We have mistaken the peace of Christ, which is a conquered peace, for the peace of Neville Chamberlain, which is the peace of appeasement and ultimate surrender.

But the Apostle Paul, writing to his apostolic delegate Titus on the wild frontier of Crete, gives no such quarter to this kind of thinking. The church is not a debating society for every idle fancy that blows through town. It is an army, an embassy of the Kingdom of Heaven, stationed on enemy soil. And a good soldier knows which hills are worth dying on and which are simply distractions designed by the enemy to waste ammunition and morale. A wise ambassador knows which diplomatic incidents require a firm stand and which are meaningless protocol squabbles.

Paul has just spent the better part of this letter instructing Titus on how to set the church in order, appointing elders, teaching sound doctrine, and structuring households for godly dominion. He has reminded them of the glorious grace of God that saved them from their former slavery to sin. But a well-ordered army can be rendered ineffective not just by a frontal assault, but also by internal dissension, by a thousand tiny, pointless arguments that sap its strength and divert its focus from the real mission. And so, Paul concludes this section with a sharp, practical command on spiritual triage. He teaches us that Christian faithfulness requires us to engage in some conflicts, but it equally requires us to refuse others. We are to be a church militant, not a church quibbling.


The Text

But avoid foolish controversies and genealogies and strife and conflicts about the Law, for they are unprofitable and worthless.
Reject a factious man after a first and second warning,
knowing that such a man is perverted and is sinning, being self-condemned.
(Titus 3:9-11 LSB)

Unprofitable Engagements (v. 9)

We begin with the negative command, the list of things to shun.

"But avoid foolish controversies and genealogies and strife and conflicts about the Law, for they are unprofitable and worthless." (Titus 3:9)

The word for "avoid" here is a strong one. It means to turn away from, to shun. This is not a suggestion to simply change the subject politely. It is a command to refuse to engage. Paul identifies four categories of these time-wasting black holes. First, "foolish controversies." These are debates that have no grounding in divine revelation and no bearing on godly living. Our modern evangelical world is overrun with them. Debates over eschatological charts, arguments about what kind of music the angels prefer, or whether a Christian can watch an R-rated movie. These are questions that generate much heat and no light. They are foolish because they are untethered from the "sound words" of the gospel.

Second, "genealogies." In the context of Crete, this likely referred to Judaizers who were making salvation dependent on Jewish lineage or some secret Gnostic knowledge passed down through a particular bloodline. They were trying to rebuild the dividing wall that Christ had demolished. In our day, this same error appears in different clothes. It is the spirit of spiritual elitism, the "I am of Paul, I am of Apollos" nonsense. It is the pride of theological pedigree, where your particular Reformed tribe or your seminary degree becomes a badge of honor and a weapon against your brother. It is any attempt to base our standing before God on anything other than union with Christ by faith alone.

Third and fourth, "strife and conflicts about the Law." Notice Paul is not against the Law. He has already said the Law is good if one uses it lawfully. The problem is not the Law, but the kind of arguments they were having about it. The Judaizers were treating the Mosaic Law as a collection of abstract purity codes, detached from Christ, using it to create endless casuistry and division. They were straining out gnats and swallowing camels. This is the spirit of legalism, which is always contentious because it is rooted in pride. It is the man who wants to argue about whether you can mow your lawn on a Sunday while his own heart is a wasteland of bitterness and envy.

And why avoid these things? Paul gives a brutally practical reason: "for they are unprofitable and worthless." They produce nothing. They don't build up the church. They don't advance the gospel. They don't make anyone more holy. They are spiritual junk food. They fill you up with hot air and leave you with no spiritual muscle. A faithful pastor must be a good steward of his congregation's time and energy, and that means he must refuse to let the church get bogged down in these muddy, pointless cul-de-sacs.


The Necessary Rejection (v. 10)

But what if the problem is not just a foolish question, but a foolish questioner who refuses to stop? Paul moves from avoiding the topic to dealing with the man.

"Reject a factious man after a first and second warning," (Titus 3:10)

A "factious man" is a man who loves to cause division. The Greek word is hairetikon, from which we get our word heretic. But in this context, it doesn't primarily mean a man who holds a doctrinal error in private. It refers to a man who makes his error a banner for a party, a cause for division. He is a schismatic. He is the man who cannot simply disagree; he must form a faction. He is addicted to the fight. He thrives on the controversy itself, not on the truth. He is the man who corners you after the service to complain about the sermon, who starts the email chain to critique the elders' decisions, who is always stirring the pot.

The church is not to tolerate such behavior. The instructions are clear and procedural. First, he is to be given a warning. This is a gracious, pastoral appeal to his conscience. He is to be confronted with his sin and called to repentance. Then, if he persists, he is to be given a second warning. This shows that the church is not to be hasty or reactionary. There is a due process. But it also shows that the church's patience has a limit. We are not called to an infinite tolerance of divisive behavior.

After two strikes, he's out. "Reject" him. This means to have nothing more to do with him. It is a form of excommunication. You are to refuse him fellowship. Why? Because the peace and unity of the body of Christ are more important than indulging one man's ego. A surgeon does not endlessly debate with a gangrenous limb; he amputates it to save the body. The church, in its discipline, must sometimes do the same.


The Internal Verdict (v. 11)

Paul concludes with the reason why the church can act with such finality. It is because the man himself has already passed sentence on his own soul.

"knowing that such a man is perverted and is sinning, being self-condemned." (Titus 3:11)

The church's action of rejection is not what condemns him; it is merely the external recognition of a verdict he has already pronounced on himself. He is "perverted," which means he has been twisted and turned out of the way. His moral compass is broken. He calls evil good and good evil. He sees his divisiveness not as a sin, but as a righteous crusade.

He "is sinning." This is not a past mistake. It is a present, ongoing state of rebellion. He has been warned once, and then twice, and he has hardened his heart against correction. His sin is not in having a wrong opinion, but in his impenitent, prideful love for that opinion over and above the peace of the church. Here we see that Paul does not place a sharp dichotomy between intellectual errors and moral failings. Heresy is a kind of sinning.

And therefore, he is "self-condemned." By rejecting the lawful authority of the church and the clear commands of Scripture, he has become his own judge and executioner. He has, by his own actions, declared that he stands outside the bounds of covenantal fellowship. The church, in excommunicating him, is simply saying "Amen" to the choice he has already made. It is a solemn and terrible thing, but it is a necessary act of love, both for the flock he is endangering and, we pray, for his own soul, that he might be brought to his senses.


Conclusion: Fighting for What Matters

This passage is a bucket of cold water on the warm, fuzzy, sentimentalism that passes for Christianity in our day. The church is not a free-for-all of personal opinions. It is the pillar and buttress of the truth. And protecting that truth requires us to be discerning fighters.

We must learn to distinguish between the foolish controversies that are unprofitable and the essential doctrines that are the foundation of our faith. We must be willing to contend earnestly for the faith once for all delivered to the saints, while at the same time refusing to be drawn into pointless squabbles that only serve the devil's purposes. This requires wisdom, courage, and a deep love for the truth.

And when a man proves himself to be a lover of division, a man who would rather tear the body of Christ apart than submit his own opinions to the Word and the wisdom of the elders, we must love the church enough to follow the apostle's command. We must warn him, and warn him again. And if he will not hear, we must, with heavy hearts but firm resolve, reject him.

This is not unloving. It is the very definition of tough, covenantal love. It is loving the sheep more than the wolf. It is loving the health of the body more than the disease. And ultimately, it is loving Christ and His truth more than we love a false and fleeting peace. May God give us the wisdom to avoid the worthless conflicts and the courage to engage in the necessary ones, all for the glory of His name and the good of His church.