Editor’s Reflections -- By: William David Spencer

Journal: Priscilla Papers
Volume: PP 26:2 (Spring 2012)
Article: Editor’s Reflections
Author: William David Spencer


Editor’s Reflections

William David Spencer

Writing a commentary on one book of the Bible is a serious responsibility—not to mention three books. So, when Aída, my wife, was given that opportunity, we shook out our savings from under every mattress, so as to say, and the whole family went to the island of Crete where Paul sent Titus so long ago to nurture the fledgling church. Our son Steve, who is in media productions, took 1,400 pictures and did the driving. I edited what Aída had written so far on her manuscript (which was considerable) while she took copious notes on what she needed in each spot to enlighten more obscure parts of the texts of the pastorals. We had our team.

Years before, we three had gone to Corinth where we researched our little popular commentary on 2 Corinthians and found that being on location really makes a difference in perspective, as we could step up where Paul spoke from the bema, the city’s seat of judgment; explore the central location of the shop area and see the easy access Paul and Prisca and Aquila in their tent-making trade would have had to engage newcomers entering the city on the Roman road; or realize how close the meat market was to the looming Temple of Apollo and how simply one could compromise one’s conscience if the freshest beef was idol-sacrificed.

But Crete offered us even more. Along with all its historic ruins and locations, in downtown Herakleion, its thriving largest metropolis, in the center of a beautiful walking mall, filled with fountains, sidewalk cafés, real estate businesses, convenience stores, computer and cell phone shops, and all the other enterprises that comprise a contemporary city, stood a lovely little church with a remarkable treasure. The Holy Church of Titus the Apostle in the Holy Archdiocese of Crete’s Parish of Saint Titus housed the skull of the saint himself. It was a must-stop for all Christians.

But, frankly, the prospect of gaping at the empty eye sockets and slack, toothless jaw of one who stays eternally young in the Bible pages (Paul’s “loyal child in the common faith,” Titus 1:4)1 was not appealing. It seemed so macabre to me—what Ellis Peters (Edith Pargeter) had in mind when she entitled her first Brother Cadfael novel A Morbid Taste for Bones. Could not this poor man be left to rest in peace—not displayed in pieces? Could not his body have been left intact in a single grave, awaiting the day of resurrection, not apportioned out like a couple of religious party favors to desiring churches?

But, in we went to a picturesque little chapel, no bigger than a country church. We peered into the sanctuary, but could see nothing u...

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