Christ for the Generations, Part Two

Godly Older Women

Last week, we looked at Paul’s exhortation to older men. We saw that spiritual maturity isn’t about coasting into retirement. It’s about ripening. God doesn’t raise up older men to step back—He raises them up to step forward. The call is to be sober-minded, dignified, self-controlled, and sound in faith, love, and steadfastness. That’s the kind of man the church needs—not just a man with gray hair, but a man with weight.

But Paul doesn’t stop there. In the very next verse, he turns to the older women.

Now, younger women—wives, mothers, daughters—I want you to listen closely to what I’m about to say to the older women. Because this message isn’t just for them—it’s for you, too. If you want to become wise, godly, grounded women, you need to know what kind of older woman you should look up to. And older women, if you want to be useful in this generation, you need to see the assignment God has given you.

In verses 1–10 of Titus 2, Paul gives instructions tailored to various groups within the church, and a clear pattern emerges: personal holiness is never meant to stay private. Godly character inevitably has public consequences. It spills over into relationships, reputation, and witness. The faith that saves is the faith that shapes.

You can especially see this in the section addressing older women.

Paul essentially gives us two movements: first, the character older women are to possess; second, the transmission of that character through their intentional discipleship of younger women.

Verse 3 lays out the foundational traits: “reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine.” This is holiness of heart, tongue, and habits. But then Paul continues: they are “to teach what is good, and so train the young women.” That “and so” is important. Their teaching isn’t random. It’s the natural overflow of who they are. Their lives back their words. The character in verse 3 leads to the instruction in verse 4. And the instruction is intensely practical—how to love husbands and children, be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, submissive.

You see this same logical structure repeated throughout the passage. In verse 7, Titus is to model good works. Why? “So that an opponent may be put to shame, having nothing evil to say about us.” In verse 10, bondservants are to serve faithfully and sincerely—“so that in everything they may adorn the doctrine of God our Savior.”

So that.

It’s a pattern: godliness leads to goodness, and goodness leads to credibility. The invisible grace of God becomes visible through tangible obedience. A godly life puts flesh on the truth. It trains others. It silences critics. It adorns the gospel. That’s how the beauty of sound doctrine becomes visible in the life of the church—through people whose lives speak as loudly as their words.

First, let’s look at the character older women are to possess. Paul singles out three areas: they are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers, and not slaves to much wine. It’s important to recognize that Paul isn’t giving an exhaustive list here—he’s highlighting traits that are especially relevant to this particular group. The same is true for each category he addresses in Titus 2. This is pastoral wisdom: speaking to common patterns and temptations that tend to show up with age, stage, or sex.

So we need to be able to think in generalities and recognize tendencies without flattening everything into rigid absolutes. Take gossip and slander, for instance. Paul warns against these sins in several places, but here in Titus 2 and again in 1 Timothy 5:13, he specifically warns women about them. Why? Because while gossip is a universal sin, it’s one that women are especially prone to. That’s not an insult—it’s a recognition of how sin often maps onto the relational strengths God has given women. Can men gossip? Of course. But if you were to make a top-three list of common male sins, gossip probably wouldn’t be on it. Lust and anger would be. That’s why, when Paul addresses young men, his emphasis is on self-control. He’s not ignoring other sins—they’re just not the ones that usually lead the pack in a man’s life.

Paul says that older women are to be reverent in behavior. That’s not a word we use much today. Reverence is a mix of fear, respect, and honor—an awareness that you’re standing in the presence of something weighty. The word reverent here is closely related to honorable or, as Paul exhorts the older men, dignified. The Greek term carries the idea of something fitting for a holy place or person—something sacred. One commentator even noted that the word literally means “like a priest,” suggesting that older women are to carry themselves with the demeanor of a priestess in a temple. In other words, their everyday actions—how they speak, how they carry themselves, how they engage others—should reflect the reality that their whole life is lived in service to God.

At this stage in life, older women are expected to have some mastery over their passions. Youth is easily swept away by emotion or impulse—immaturity often forgets itself. But age should bring perspective. Older women ought to remember God in everything they do and live with the steady dignity of someone who knows she is always before His face.

Paul then names two specific sins that are the opposite of reverent behavior. First, he says older women must not be slanderers. He expands on this idea in 1 Timothy 5, where he’s addressing younger widows. There, Paul urges them to remarry, raise children, and manage their households. Why? Because, he says, “they learn to be idlers, going about from house to house, and not only idlers, but also gossips and busybodies, saying what they should not.” The connection is clear: idleness leads to sin. And for women in particular, Paul ties that idleness to sins of the tongue—gossip, slander, meddling.

Contrast that with the woman in Proverbs 31. She’s not idle. She’s working—hard. She buys and sells. She clothes her household in scarlet. She’s not busy with other people’s business—she’s busy with her own. She’s too engaged in building up her own home to tear down someone else’s with her words.

The same is true today. A lot of gossip and slander would dry up if women were simply busier with the right things. You wouldn’t have time to talk about someone else’s parenting if you were focused on your own. You wouldn’t be so interested in someone else’s marriage drama if you were pouring into your own husband. The tongue finds trouble when the hands are idle. Keep your hands full with good work, and your words will start to follow.

Gossip and slander are both sins of the tongue, but they’re not the same thing.

Gossip is idle talk about someone else’s life—often behind their back. It may be true, partially true, or entirely false. That’s not the point. The issue is that it’s not your business and it doesn’t help anything. It’s talk that shouldn’t be shared. Proverbs 18:8 says, “The words of a whisperer are like delicious morsels.” Gossip feels good in the moment—like you’re in the know—but it damages relationships, spreads suspicion, and usually has no purpose other than to entertain.

Slander is worse. It’s when someone lies—or twists the truth—with the goal of hurting someone’s reputation. The word Paul uses is diabolos—same word used for the devil. Satan is the accuser. That’s what slander does: it accuses. It smears. Psalm 101:5 says, “Whoever slanders his neighbor secretly I will destroy.” That’s how seriously God takes it. He hates it.

Here’s the differences…

• Gossip spreads personal stuff that doesn’t need to be shared.

• Slander spreads lies or distortion meant to harm.

• Gossip is sneaky. Slander is hostile.

• Gossip tears people down when they’re not around. Slander tries to ruin them publicly.
  

Both are destructive. Both are condemned in Scripture. And both should be put to death by anyone who wants to follow Christ and live wisely.

The second irreverent behavior Paul addresses is that older women are not to be “slaves to much wine.” So let’s first deal with the question of teetotalism. The issue here isn’t the enjoyment of alcohol—it’s being enslaved by it. That’s obvious from the language Paul uses. He’s not condemning wine, but addiction to it. Drunkenness and addiction are sins. Not the appropriate use of the created thing. Luther once quipped, “Men fall into sin through wine and women. Shall we then abolish wine and women?”

Now, George Knight points out that Paul may highlight this particular issue because men were often working in the fields—far from the cupboard—while women were at home, closer to where the wine was stored. I’m not convinced that’s the main reason Paul brings it up, but it’s a helpful observation. Every domain carries its own set of temptations. Being home isn’t automatically safer than being out in the world. Sometimes it just means your vices are closer at hand.

The young often use alcohol to throw off their inhibitions. They say and do things they normally wouldn’t. That’s why it’s called liquid courage. But not all inhibitions are bad. In fact, the best ones are rooted in reverence—the fear of God. A man should be hesitant to act foolishly, to speak rashly, to sin proudly. Our behavior should be governed by the glory of God. If you’re drunk, you’re not mindful of the Lord. You lose your sense of reverence and restraint.

The old, on the other hand, often use alcohol for a different reason—not to throw off restraint, but to numb regret and suffering. Proverbs 31:6–7 says, “Give strong drink to the one who is perishing, and wine to those in bitter distress; let them drink and forget their poverty and remember their misery no more.” That’s not a prescription; it’s a description. As you age, regrets can pile up. So can physical pain, emotional wounds, and disappointments. And the temptation is to drown them—whether with wine or pills, it makes no difference.

You can see how this would be a particular temptation for older women. Some regret not marrying—or divorcing—a good man. Others regret smothering or spoiling their children. Some regret betraying a friend over something petty. So they pour another glass to blur the edge of their memories. In our day, it’s often not wine, but antidepressants or prescription meds. To be clear, I’m not against short-term use of medication in cases of suicidal depression or emotional instability. There’s a difference between dampening the intensity to address the root cause—and numbing yourself for life. We shouldn’t enslave people to medication as a permanent solution to spiritual and emotional problems.

At the end of the day, a lot of today’s “wine moms” and “cat moms” are simply regretful women trying to curate a version of their lives online that says: No regrets here. I’m living my truth. But beneath the surface, there’s often a cocktail of loneliness and guilt. And no amount of Chardonnay or filtered selfies can cover it up forever.

Older women are called to be models of reverent behavior. That means they exercise control over both their tongue and their passions. Why? First and foremost, because it honors God. But Paul gives a secondary reason—one that gets to the heart of generational discipleship in the church.

He writes that older women are to “teach what is good, and so train the young women…” (Titus 2:3–4).

Now, younger women—wives, mothers, daughters—listen to what I’m about to say to the older women.

Older ladies, attend to the character of your own life so that you can help us, the elders, address the issues within the younger women. Can you teach what is good? Can you help us train this rising generation of women?

Because here's the reality: men respond well to strong challenges. We like it blunt. We want to be pushed. Beat on us a little and we’ll respect you more—especially if we know you love us like a coach trying to draw out our best. But that kind of hard-edged, confrontational intensity doesn’t work the same way with women. If I come at the ladies the way I come at the men, they’ll often just walk away. That’s not a criticism—it’s just how God made us different.

And that’s one reason—among many—we need godly older women. Not judgy, bitter, know-it-all church ladies, but wise, seasoned, practically-minded older wives and mothers. Women who don’t just know what’s good, but can actually teach what’s good. We need them because they can say things to younger women that pastors and elders sometimes can’t—or at least shouldn’t.

Some conversations are better had across a kitchen table than from a pulpit. And just as family needs the present of father and mother, so does a church need both men and women.

John Calvin saw this clearly. In his commentary on Titus 2, he stressed that it’s not enough for older women to live decently—they must also train younger women in the virtues of modesty, chastity, self-control, and homemaking.

The “warmth of youth,” he said, needs to be governed by the “gravity and temperance” of age. He even noted the pastoral prudence in Paul’s instruction. Titus was a young male pastor, and it wouldn’t have been proper—or effective—for him to instruct young women in personal matters related to dress, marriage, or domestic life. So Paul puts that charge in the hands of older women.

I’ve lived that tension. When I was a youth pastor, there were times a teenage girl would show up wearing something extremely revealing. It was distracting for the boys, yes—but more importantly, it was inappropriate. It undermined her reputation and, honestly, made her parents look careless. But I was a 23-year-old man. I wasn’t about to walk up and start talking about cleavage with a 15-year-old. That’s a fast track to disaster. Thankfully, I was surrounded by older women who would discreetly, kindly say something. And when they weren’t around, I’d ask Emily to handle it. That’s Titus 2 in action.

The church needs older women who are more than merely respectable—they must be instructive. We need women who live lives worth imitating and are willing to speak into the lives of others with wisdom and grace. And we need younger women humble enough to listen. Titus 2 isn’t a suggestion. It’s God’s plan for generational discipleship. It’s how we build households and churches that last.

These younger women are being discipled—make no mistake about that. But the problem is who they’re being discipled by. More and more, they’re listening to Instagram influencers and podcast hosts who are, at best, five to ten years ahead of them in life. It’s bad. These voices are often well-meaning, but they’re also inexperienced, idealistic, and untested. They haven’t walked through enough fire to speak with real wisdom. They haven’t been refined by the slow, sanctifying grind of time, struggle, repentance, and obedience. What they offer isn’t mentorship—it’s just content. And content can’t raise a woman.

But here’s the thing: these young women want guidance. They know they need it. And if they don’t get it from you, they’ll get it from somewhere—and that somewhere is usually shallow, curated, and toxic. If you aren’t stepping up, if you aren’t inviting them into your life, who will they turn to?

You need to open your life to them. Don’t assume they know you’d welcome them in. They often think you’re too busy or that you wouldn’t want to be bothered. They don’t know that you feel unused. That you’ve been waiting for someone to ask. Well, they may never ask—so you need to invite. It doesn’t have to be a Bible study. They already get teaching from us—their pastors and elders. What they need from you is help applying the truth of Scripture to life as a woman. As a wife. As a mother. As someone trying to navigate the challenges of being female in a confused and collapsing world.

We talk a lot—rightly—about the epidemic of fatherlessness. But there’s another crisis running just beneath the surface: a quiet epidemic of motherlessness. Not physical abandonment, but spiritual and practical neglect. Too many older women have stepped away from meaningful ministry in the church. They’re coasting into hobbies, comfort, and detachment while the younger women are drowning in confusion, comparison, and pressure.

And don’t mistake this for rebellion on the part of the young women. Much of it is desperation. They are being pulled in a thousand directions and looking for someone, anyone, to show them how to walk faithfully. They don’t need lectures. They need models. They need faithful women with scars, regrets, wisdom, and grace to say: Come with me. Let’s walk this road together.

So don’t say, “No one ever mentored me.” Be the woman you wish you had. Be the voice that cuts through the noise with love and clarity. Because if you don’t—if the church doesn’t—these women will follow someone else. And the influencers waiting in the wings don’t love them they way they need to be loved. How could they? They don’t know them.

So here’s the charge:

Older women—this is your assignment. Not to fade out, not to retire from ministry, not to settle into a life of spiritual passivity. You are called to a high and holy task: to be a living picture of reverence, to teach what is good, and to train the next generation of women in the fear of the Lord.

And younger women—this is your invitation. Don’t despise the wisdom of age. Don’t settle for a curated feed when you could have a real-life model. Don’t follow women who only show you their highlight reel. Look for women who bear scars, who’ve suffered and repented and endured—and still love Jesus. Attach yourself to them. Ask questions. Take notes. Show up.

Because the health of the church depends on this kind of generational discipleship. Titus 2 isn’t some outdated cultural artifact—it’s a Spirit-inspired blueprint for how truth becomes culture, how doctrine takes root in real lives.

If we want strong churches, we need strong households. And if we want strong households, we need older women who aren’t afraid to speak and younger women who aren’t too proud to listen.

God has given us each other. Let’s not waste that gift. Let’s put Titus 2 into action—so that the truth of the gospel is not only believed, but seen.

Let’s pray