Let as many bondmen as are under yoke count their own masters worthy of all honour, that the name of God and the teaching be not blasphemed.
Paul turns to people at the bottom of the social ladder: those owned by another. He gives them a duty that touches God's own reputation. Why does the gospel, which puts master and servant on a level in Christ, tell the servant to honour his master instead of throwing off the yoke?
The verse starts with a picture from farming.
The harness that ties an animal to a cart or plough; and the beam that joins two animals together for any kind of work. It stands as a symbol of servitude and slavery.
Kelly notes two wrong attitudes a servant could take.
Some might praise up other masters; others might dislike or run down their own. Neither attitude comes from faith or suits a Christian. It is no question what their own masters might be: Jew or heathen, vain or proud, immoral or self-righteous, mean, ambitious, or anything else. If God's providence had placed them under a bondman's obligations, they were responsible to Him for counting them worthy of all honour — not because they deserved this or that praise, but simply because these men were their own masters.
Why honour a master who does not deserve it? Dennett points to another relationship God governs.
Servants are to pay their masters all the respect that fits their position. This has nothing to do with the personal character of the master. God tells us to honour kings, and all in authority, because of the office they hold. In the same way He commands servants to respect their masters because of their position.
Readers often expect the apostle to demand freedom instead.
Slavery is foreign to Christianity. But putting earthly wrongs right was not the Lord's object in His first coming; that will only happen when He comes again. So the will of God for His people now is to accept the conditions that mark their times, and in them adorn the doctrine and honour His name.
So what is a Christian to do with the place he finds himself in?
Christianity takes men in the social position in which it finds them, and shows how they may live Christ in that place. It is not busy remodelling society, but teaching the believer to show Christ. He was to be subject to the governing powers; and since these allowed slavery, he was to obey the laws here as in other matters, seeking freedom by lawful means if he could, but if not, being content with his lot.
Paul names God here, not Christ. Mackintosh asks why. He works from an older translation, which reads "God and His doctrine" where the ESV has "the name of God and the teaching."
Notice, it is "God and His doctrine." Why? Because it is a question of power. The name of Christ and His doctrine would put the master and servant on a level, as members of one body. In Christ Jesus there is no distinction. But when I go out into the world, I meet God's moral government, which makes one a master and another a servant. Any breach of that government will meet with certain judgement.
Dennett looks at both sides of that warning.
Christian servants are sometimes very lax; and when this is so, the name of God and His teaching is blasphemed on their account. But God is faithful. Whatever the difficulties of their position, if there is only dependence on Himself, He will sustain them. And if by their behaviour they adorn the doctrine of God their Saviour, He will cause the fragrance of the name of Christ to spread through them, all through the household in which they live.
The Lord Himself walked this road first.
He "took the form of a servant." Though He had every right to be free, He paid the tax rather than give offence. So the believing servant, under the cruellest and most tyrannical treatment, was to show out the life of Christ in him.
Paul does not treat this as a small matter.
The apostle condemns without reserve any man who taught a different teaching. To undermine the relation of a servant to a master was serious in his eyes, and no less so when people put forward fine excuses and grand-sounding claims. For the duty of subjection flows from the relation; and the faith of those involved strengthens it rather than relaxing it.
- Yoke. The word pictures an animal harnessed for work. In this verse it stands for real servitude.
- Honour. The servant owes honour to the master's position, not to his character. As with rulers, the office commands it.
- Place. Christianity does not remodel society. It teaches the believer to live Christ where he stands, seeking freedom by lawful means if he can, and content if he cannot.
- Name. God's name and His teaching are at stake. The household watches, and reads the servant's conduct.
- Warning. Paul condemns teaching that loosens this bond, however fine it sounds. Faith strengthens the duty; it never cancels it.
And they that have believing masters, let them not despise [them] because they are brethren; but let them the rather serve them with subjection, because they are faithful and beloved, who profit by the good and ready service [rendered]. These things teach and exhort.
Paul turns to a harder case: a servant whose master is a fellow believer. Does being brothers in Christ cancel the relationship of master and servant, or deepen the servant's duty inside it?
Having a Christian master looks like pure relief. But the position has its own dangers.
Having a believing master might seem to promise only comfort and blessing, and no doubt the difference in atmosphere would be great. But every position has its snares and difficulties. Believing masters and servants are just as likely to expect a great deal from each other as to be badly disappointed.
The danger is closeness: familiarity between brothers can wear away respect.
When the masters were believers, there was naturally more familiarity, for they were one in Christ. From this came the danger — for the flesh is crafty — that the servants might not treat their masters with the respect due to them. The apostle guards against this abuse of Christian love, and of the proper closeness and confidence that ought to exist between brothers. That closeness was, on the contrary, a reason for the servant to give all honor to his master, treating him with more love and with the same respect.
The temptation in the early church was to read equality in Christ as release from service.
In the early church it might easily happen that those "under the yoke" misunderstood the new truth. They might assert their equality with their masters, and, because they were one in Christ, be tempted to claim exemption from the service required of them. This instruction was meant to meet that temptation. It teaches that equal standing in Christ leaves earthly distinctions untouched. It is true that master and servant, if believers, are brothers. It is also true that, as far as this world is concerned, they are still master and servant. Christianity does not change or wipe out social arrangements and distinctions; it preserves and strengthens them.
The place decides it: one thing is true at worship, another at work.
The Spirit of God knows how ready the human heart is to take advantage of such circumstances. In the assembly of God, at the Lord's table, the believing master and servant are brothers and members of one body. Outside relationships have no place there. But in the shop or on the farm it is otherwise, and we do well not to forget it.
Commentators differ over who receives the benefit. One reading takes it of the master, who profits from the servant's good work — and he rejects the idea that the word points to God's kindness in Christ.
Faith does exalt the lowly and humble the proud. But it does not misuse fellowship in the Spirit to claim equality in the flesh. Instead, it teaches believers not to despise their masters because of what they know. It teaches them to serve all the more, because those who reap their good service are believing and beloved.
Others take the benefit as the Christian blessings the master shares in.
In the assembly the slave and the master were on common ground, equal before the Lord. There the slave might even be more prominent than his master, because of his spirituality or gift. But believing slaves were not to grow slack in their duties to masters who were believers. Instead, they were to serve them, because those masters were faithful and beloved and partakers of Christian benefits.
The tie between brothers is not a discount on work. It raises the standard.
If the master were a believer, the slave might be inclined to despise him for supporting the principle of slavery while he himself was a brother. But no — the slave was all the more responsible to serve his master, because the master was "faithful and beloved, partaker of the benefit." Learning to serve well is one of the blessed glories of true Christianity. "Teach and urge these things" — they are of no small importance.
The principle reaches into every arrangement where one person works for another.
It teaches the Christian to give full and proper pay to those he employs. It teaches the tradesman to give full measure, and avoid any trick that brings dishonest gain. It teaches the workman to give steady and honest work — as careful when no one is watching as when someone is. And if anyone has a believing master, or a believing servant, he must take no advantage of that fact, as 1 Timothy 6:2 shows.
- Privilege. A believing master is a real mercy, yet every position carries its own snare, and this one is familiarity.
- Danger. The snare is despising — using oneness in Christ as a licence to slacken respect and duty.
- Distinction. Equal standing in Christ leaves earthly relationships intact. At the Lord's table they are brothers; at work they stay master and servant.
- Motive. The very tie that could excuse laziness becomes the reason to serve more, because the one served is faithful and beloved.
- Reach. The same rule covers fair pay, honest measure, and work no one is watching. No believer may take advantage of another.
If any one teach differently, and do not accede to sound words, those of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the teaching which [is] according to piety,
Paul has just told Timothy what to teach about masters and servants. Now he turns to the person who refuses that teaching. His test is not clever speech. It is agreement with the words of the Lord Jesus Christ, and with teaching that fits godliness.
The teaching in question was practical. It was about how a believing slave should treat his master.
It seems that in those early days there were people who taught otherwise. They saw Christianity as only a way to improve people's social conditions and make this world a better, brighter place. They were probably teaching that a converted slave now came under the Lordship of Christ. So he could think of himself as free from his master on earth. Such views, however, were contrary to wholesome words, even the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the teaching which is according to piety.
Some readers find Paul's tone here hard. One writer weighs it and finds it just.
Some may think it strange that the apostle speaks so firmly to Timothy. But weigh the moral judgment of this very sober servant of the Lord, made under the direct power of the inspiring Spirit. No one who fears God will accuse him of undue severity. Yet he condemns without reserve any man who taught a different teaching from what has been laid down. To undermine the relation of a servant to a master was wicked in his eyes. It was no less wicked because fine pretexts and high-sounding professions were put forward. The duty of submission flows from the relationship itself. The faith of those involved strengthens that duty; it does not relax it.
What makes teaching "sound"?
The word translated "sound" occurs again and again. It is the word from which we get "hygienic," so often on people's lips today. It means healthful. Sound doctrine really is teaching that makes for spiritual health.
Owning a Bible is not the same as holding these words.
We are custodians of the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, and they are written here. But it is not enough to own a copy of the whole Scriptures. We need the sound and healthful words of our Lord Jesus Christ and His servants in our hearts. They have the power to keep us from evil. The words of our Lord Jesus Christ never become corrupt, because they are, as they are called here, "sound words."
The verse does not only commend healthy teaching. It names whose words they are.
What the Lord Jesus spoke carried the character of grace, truth and wisdom, and people marvelled at it. That was not all. He was a divine Person, so the very form of language His blessed words took was divinely perfect. Language with Him was what it could not be with anyone else. It was the means by which He perfectly conveyed what He wished to communicate.
So refusing these words is no small difference of opinion.
Think what it is to be a sinner who owes every mercy to grace in Christ. Would such a person dare to keep on in direct opposition to His words? He is the Lord of all and the appointed Judge of the living and the dead. Would anyone be so satisfied with his own theories and arguments that he despises what the apostle says — that such teaching cannot stand with what is according to godliness?
But what does godliness itself mean?
Piety is confidence in the known and living God. That confidence leads the believer to walk in the holy fear of God through all the circumstances of life. It recognises and honours God. So it is the very opposite of the show of holiness that seeks to exalt self.
Truth and godliness cannot be pulled apart.
The Holy Spirit will not allow that "godliness", or Christian piety, can exist without the truth. Nor will He allow that the truth can be received in the love of it without producing godliness. The truth means living Godward.
What is such a teacher like inside?
The man who teaches otherwise is "puffed up": his own self-importance has inflated him. He has not learned self-judgment. He has never seen himself in the light of the cross of Christ, as a sinner condemned and worthless. He is "sick about questions and strifes of words." He has no spiritual health. He may love to argue about the logic and virtue of human rights, but he ignores the rights of God.
- Sound — "sound" means healthful. This teaching builds spiritual health, and it never becomes corrupt.
- His — the healthy words belong to the Lord Jesus Christ. His language was divinely perfect. To oppose them is to oppose the Judge of the living and the dead.
- Godward — teaching "according to godliness" grows confidence in the living God. It leads to a walk in holy fear, not a show of self.
- Tested — truth received in love always produces godliness. So weigh a teaching by the life it grows.
- Puffed up — the man who refuses is swollen with self-importance. He fights over words and human rights, and ignores the rights of God.
he is puffed up, knowing nothing, but sick about questions and disputes of words, out of which arise envy, strife, injurious words, evil suspicions,
Paul has just described teachers who refuse the sound words of our Lord Jesus Christ (v. 3). Now he shows what such a man is on the inside: pride, ignorance, and an endless appetite for argument.
The verse opens with a man puffed up. Commentators tie that swelling to how little he knows.
The Apostle writes very plainly about these opponents. He unmasks their true character. They were marked by pride and ignorance. How often these two things go together! The less a man knows of God and of himself the more he imagines he has something to boast in. The true knowledge of God and of himself at once dispels his pride.
That pride is not a small flaw beside otherwise sound teaching. It is the exact opposite of piety.
The Apostle has shown that piety is the safeguard against the abuse of Christianity. Now he states that the one who teaches otherwise is moved by the pride of the flesh. Pride trusts in self and works to keep up its own importance. Piety trusts in God and seeks His glory. The two are complete opposites.
The man Paul describes may be full of information. What he lacks is the whole truth. A narrow slice of it, held proudly, is what inflates him.
We are sanctified by the truth, not by a truth. But human one-sidedness is only the knowledge that puffs up. It always boasts that its own measure is all that is worth hearing, and it boasts all the more the narrower it is... Partial views are only "knowledge." They tend to feed the self-importance that values only those who agree with self. Such a man looks down on believers who know less — and even on those who are better taught and hold to the truth without reserve.
Kelly quotes an older translation here, which reads sick about questions. He takes it as mental activity running with no conscience and no heart behind it.
Listen to how the apostle whips the offender: "He is puffed up, knowing nothing, but sick about questionings and word-disputes." Is it not a true likeness of a mind at work without conscience or heart?
Such a man never runs out of questions. Once the Lord's word settles nothing, nothing can be settled.
Verse 4 also makes plain the effect of rejecting the authority of the Lord. Questions and strifes of words come to the fore. This of course is inevitable. Once a man sets the Lord's authority aside, it all becomes a question of opinion. And if so, one man's opinion is as good as another. Arguments and word-battles can then run on almost endlessly, and all kinds of envy and strife flourish.
Paul lists four evils that come "out of" these word-battles, and they follow one another in order.
The pride that seeks to exalt self by these endless questions must inevitably lead to "envy", for the proud man can bear no rival. Naturally the flesh will strive against the one it envies. So envy leads to strife, and striving against another will lead to "injurious words" about him. When people learn that "injurious words" are being spoken, "evil suspicions" and constant quarrelling follow. Such is the evil crop that arises from envy... It was envy that led to the first murder in this world; and it was envy that led to the greatest murder in this world. Pilate "knew that it was out of envy that they had delivered him up" (Matthew 27:18).
The word behind "slander" here is the one usually translated "blasphemy."
In Scripture this word does not always mean speaking evil of God, though that is the only way we use the word today. Translators render the same Greek word as 'railing' in 1 Timothy 6:4 and Jude 9, and 'evil speaking' in Ephesians 4:31. It could well be translated that way in other places too.
If pride is the root, the answer is not more argument but a truer estimate of oneself.
Self-judgment keeps us best. It keeps us aware of our own smallness and in love to all the saints. It keeps us from being puffed up in self-satisfaction and contempt for other believers generally... Whatever its form, this evil betrays its foreign source and nature by its plain neglect of the teaching that is according to piety.
- Pride starts it. Refusing the Lord's words leaves a man swollen with self-importance. Pride and ignorance grow together: the less he knows of God and of himself, the more he thinks he has to boast about.
- Pride blinds it. "Knowing nothing" describes a man who may hold real information. But he holds only a narrow slice of it, and a narrow slice only puffs up.
- Pride sickens it. He is not studying; he is sick about questions — a mind working without conscience or heart. Once the Lord's authority is set aside, every opinion is as good as another, so the arguing never ends.
- Pride spreads it. The proud man can bear no rival. So envy breeds strife, strife breeds abusive words, and abusive words breed suspicion and constant quarrelling. The word for "slander" is the one usually translated "blasphemy."
- Self-judgment cures it. Seeing our own smallness keeps us in love toward all believers. The true test of any teaching is whether it produces godliness or neglects it.
constant quarrellings of men corrupted in mind and destitute of the truth, holding gain to be [the end of] piety.
Verse 5 closes a chain that begins with pride over words and ends with men who treat religion as a way to make money. Paul is describing teachers here, and the verse forces one question: what is godliness for?
The friction in this verse is not an accident of temperament. One writer traces the whole sequence in verses 4 and 5 back to a single root, showing how each evil breeds the next:
Such disputes of words do not strengthen piety. They only give the works of the flesh a chance to show. Pride seeks to exalt self by these endless questions, and it must lead to "envy". The proud man can put up with no rival. The flesh strives against the one it envies. So envy leads to strife, and striving against another leads to "injurious words" about him. When a man learns that "injurious words" have been spoken about him, "evil suspicions" and "constant quarrellings" follow. Such is the evil crop that arises from envy. There is no greater power for evil among the saints of God than the allowance of envy in the heart.
Another writer names the cause. The quarrelling comes out of what these men already are:
But they are skilled at manipulating and wrangling — noisy quarreling — because their minds are corrupted. The truth is foreign to them. They are empty, yet they hold that material gain is godliness.
The older King James wording, "gain is godliness," reverses the Greek. One commentator settles the grammar:
There need be no question about the last clause. Even apart from the next verse and the context, the Greek phrase here will not carry the meaning the authorised version gives it. The Greek article requires "that godliness is gain," not the reverse.
So these men are not calling wealth holy. They are treating holiness as a business plan — godliness held as a means to profit. The next verse answers that inversion:
The truth is that God, not gain, is the end of godliness. Yet the Apostle adds a striking word: "godliness with contentment is great gain." To walk as in the presence of the living God, with simple trust in His goodness and a contented heart, is very great gain of a spiritual kind.
The idea that nobody serves God for nothing is not new. Satan raised it long ago about a man named Job:
The motive behind such men is earthly gain, so they hold that "gain" is the end of piety. In other words, they teach that Christianity is only a way to improve our condition and add to our worldly advantage. From the history of Job we know that this is a suggestion of the devil. Job was a pious man who feared God. But Satan asks, "Does Job fear God for nothing?" His vile suggestion is that no such thing as godliness exists. If a man professes piety, it is not that he fears God or cares for God. He simply knows it pays and works to his worldly advantage.
Few people today would say out loud that religion should pay. So the error changes clothes:
So here was an outbreak of "the leaven of Herod" — a deliberate move to make Christianity a matter of worldly profit. Today the leaven of Herod is hard at work. Many are quite ready to condemn the idea that personal or private gain is the end of godliness. Yet they would loudly applaud the idea that SOCIAL gain is the end of godliness. "Other-worldliness" they detest. "This-worldliness" they delight in. For them, religion is nothing more than an easier, more comfortable world, built on better social conditions and world peace.
Older Bibles close verse 5 with a command to withdraw. The ESV leaves it out. Commentators differ over whether the words belong there. One judges the clause a later addition (William Kelly). Another says the sense stays the same with or without them:
The words "from such withdraw yourself" are not in the better manuscripts. The word used is APHISTEEMI — "withdraw, depart from, refrain from." Adding it would not change the sense.
Either way, the instruction has a narrow target:
Timothy is told to withdraw from such men. He must not give them the satisfaction of an argument; he is to leave them alone. Paul means the teachers of these things, not those they might mislead — for the sheep need protection.
- Pride starts it. Pride cannot bear a rival, so it fights over words. Envy, strife, slander, suspicion and constant friction all grow from that one root.
- Corruption spreads it. Corrupt minds drive the arguing. The truth is foreign to these men, so their teaching is empty.
- Gain replaces God. The Greek says they hold godliness to be a means of gain. The correction is that God, not profit, is the end of godliness.
- Satan authored it. "Does Job fear God for nothing?" is the same charge — that nobody worships God except for what it pays.
- Withdrawal answers it. The remedy is not to win the argument but to leave the teachers alone and protect those they would mislead.
But piety with contentment *is* great gain.
Paul has just described people who treat religion as a business. They imagine that being religious is a way to get rich. Here he takes their own word "gain" and turns it back on them. So what counts as real profit? And why must contentment go with godliness?
The idea Paul is answering is that a person is only godly for what he can get out of it.
The truth is that God, not gain, is the goal of godliness. Yet the Apostle strikingly adds, "godliness with contentment is great gain." To walk as in the presence of the living God, trusting His goodness with a contented heart, is very great gain of a spiritual kind.
Some translations use the word "piety" here. It points to a settled attitude toward God, not a religious pose.
Piety is confidence in the living God we know. That confidence leads the believer to walk in the holy fear of God through every circumstance of life. It recognises and honours God. So it is the very opposite of a show of holiness that seeks to exalt self.
Another writer spells out what that looks like day by day:
Now godliness means being conscious of God. It means living under the eye of God. It means having God as the trust and the glory of our hearts. Godliness like that, with the contentment that flows from it, is great gain.
Paul does not praise contentment by itself. Pagan writers already praised it, and praising it is not the same as living it.
Contentment on its own is not enough. By itself it would be no more than a heathen idea. In fact, plenty of pagan writers put it beautifully. But we may fear this was more what they could see a man ought to be than what they actually lived out day by day. The Stoics, who used such language most, were hard men rather than happy ones.
So the two words come in a fixed order, and the second grows out of the first.
Contentment alone could not be this great gain, for it would then be something the flesh glories in. Godliness must come first, and be the root cause of contentment. Paul was himself a true example of this.
Contentment like this rests on who does the giving — and the withholding. One writer has just pictured a polished knife put out of reach.
Earthly possessions are like that polished knife. If someone else has them, it is so they may be used for the glory of God. If God puts them beyond your reach, it is because they would hurt you if you had them. So let your heart be happy and contented. God is your Father, and He knows what is best for you. "He who did not spare His own Son but gave Him up for us all, how will He not also with Him graciously give us all things?"
Paul goes on to name the opposite of contentment. The danger is not the size of a bank balance but the direction of the will.
Wealth has its snares, as the Apostle shows a little later. But owning wealth does not necessarily ruin the soul. What ruins it is the "desire to be rich," and this word "desire" carries the idea of purpose. The danger is that the believer, instead of being content to earn his living, may set himself with purpose of heart to be rich. So riches become an object instead of the Lord.
This is not a theory to admire but a question to answer about your own ambitions.
I have to ask myself — and this time we cannot dodge these practical questions — am I going to be content to accept what God allots me as coming from His hand? Am I willing not to make it my great aim to become something other than I am, or to reach higher or greater things than I have? If so, that is great gain.
- Gain reversed. The false teachers made godliness a way to get rich. Paul answers that God, not gain, is the goal of godliness — and then calls godliness with contentment the great gain.
- Root first. Godliness comes first and produces contentment. On its own, contentment is something the flesh boasts in. Pagan writers praised it and were hard rather than happy men.
- Confidence, not pose. Godliness is confidence in the living God, carried into every circumstance. It is the opposite of a show of holiness that exalts self.
- Withheld in love. Contentment rests on the Father's wisdom. What He puts out of your reach, He keeps back because it would hurt you.
- The one thief. Owning things does not cancel the gain. Setting your purpose on being rich does, and it makes riches the object instead of the Lord.
For we have brought nothing into the world [it is] [manifest] that neither can we carry anything out.
You will leave this world just as you entered it. Paul builds an argument on that one fact. Why does so plain a truth need an apostle to say it? And what changes in the person who believes it?
Every reader already agrees with this verse. That is the strange part, as one writer points out. The problem is not knowing the fact but living against it.
Everyone knows that this often-quoted statement of the Apostle Paul to Timothy is a fact of life: "we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world." No special revelation is needed to grasp it. When we are born, we bring no possessions of any kind with us. We come to this earth naked. The same goes for the end of life here: no one can take a single penny with him or her for what lies beyond. Even so, we often live and act as if our possessions had been ours for hundreds of years. We act as if our life, our success and our happiness depended on our wealth. How short-sighted we often are!
The verse points at the two ends of a life. William Kelly asks who lives by what everyone can see:
He shows this and drives it home with the plain facts of how a person's life begins and ends here below. All can see those facts, but only people of faith act on them. Paul puts it so briefly and bluntly that we need not wonder if words added to explain him later crept into many manuscripts. The oldest authorities turn our entrance into the world with nothing into a solemn reminder that it will be the same at the close. So the two-fold truth bears on the believer all the way through his course. Compare Job 1:21, a saying voiced long ago, and as simple as it is sure. But only piety joined with "contentment" makes its weight felt and shapes a walk that matches the truth.
Job, in the Old Testament, lost his property at a stroke. What he said next shows what this truth looks like when a person stands on it.
Not a murmur escapes his lips at the loss of his property… He admits that nothing was his by right. He had come into the world naked, and would leave it as he came. But he turns from the stroke to the Hand that gave it. He looks past all second causes, whether human or miraculous, and lays his sorrow at the Lord's feet. "The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord."
If nothing comes in with us and nothing goes out, what are we while we hold things? One writer answers:
The things we have to deal with now are not our own things at all. They belong to another, even God. Our own things are on high, not here. Of possessions in this world, however valuable, however extensive, we are but life-renters. They are not our own. This casts a new light on all that people by nature seek to gain down here. And the future possession, which we so easily treat as vague and unreal, turns out to be solid and substantial.
The cost is not only foolishness at the end. There is a loss now, in what a Christian could be enjoying today.
Even true Christians may be hindered from laying hold on eternal life by the desire for present things. The pursuit of present possessions is very effective at preventing the enjoyment of the life that we have in Christ. That is why the apostle says, "we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world." This being so, is it not foolish for a Christian to pile up wealth in this world?
The fact sets a measure for daily life, and the measure is modest.
We entered the world with nothing; we go out with nothing. God may indeed give us much to enjoy. Even so, we should be content with just the necessaries of life — food and clothing. This sets a high standard before us, and few of us come up to it, though the Apostle himself did.
- Empty in. You arrived owning nothing. The verse starts where every human life starts, so no reader can claim it does not apply to them.
- Empty out. The way you came is the way you go. That double fact is meant to press on you the whole way through.
- On loan. Between those two moments you are a life-renter, not an owner. What you handle belongs to God; your own things are on high.
- Enough. The measure is food and clothing — a high standard few reach, and one Paul himself lived.
- Empty hands, full heart. Job lost his property and blessed the Lord's name. All can see this truth; only faith acts on it.
But having sustenance and covering, we will be content with these.
Paul has just said that we came into the world with nothing and will leave with nothing. Now he names what a Christian may treat as enough. The question is not how little a person can survive on. It is what a believer's heart is meant to want.
The two nouns cover more than they first seem to. Commentators also differ over the last clause: one reads it as a future statement rather than a command, while others read it as an appeal — let us be content with that.
The words translated food and covering are both plural. That may point to the variety God provides in each case. The "covering" is also not limited to clothing, and should not be translated that way, since it takes in a dwelling as well. The future tense seems stronger here than a command, and it suits the passive voice better.
Nothing we own is really ours to keep. We hold it for a while, then we leave it.
We have to recognise that we are only life tenants of all we have. We entered the world with nothing; we go out with nothing. God may indeed give us much for our enjoyment. But on the other hand we should be content with just the necessities of life — food and clothing. This sets a high standard before us, one that few of us come up to, though the apostle himself did.
The measure is set low enough that no one is shut out of it.
Having food and covering — and the slave had these things — let us be content with that.
One writer noticed that God sets the same measure for two very different people.
The Lord said what a stranger was to expect. Through Paul, the Holy Spirit says what a saint should expect. The two are the same. Deuteronomy 10:18; 1 Timothy 6:8.
The next verse warns that those who want to be rich fall into a trap. This verse is the door out of it.
In 1 Timothy 6:9 we read: "Those who desire to be rich fall into temptation, into a snare, into many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evils. It is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pangs." This is God's moral grouping. This is what His mind ties to the commonest of all desires — the desire to be rich. And His path of escape is this: "But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content."
Contentment does not come from lowering what you want. It comes from having something better.
When a saint truly enjoys Christ, a thousand little things quietly drop away: having food and clothing, he is content with that. If my spirit is always occupied with the Lord as my portion, I shall be satisfied.
It also rests on trust in a Father's care. What He holds back would have harmed us.
Earthly possessions are like that polished knife. If someone else has them, it is so they may use them for the glory of God. If they are kept beyond your reach, it is because they would hurt you if you had them. Let your heart be happy and contented then, for God, who is your Father, knows what is best for you.
The verse does not ban property. It asks what your possessions are for.
There is nothing wrong in having this or that. The point is that the servant of God wants to be as free as possible to serve his Master as well as he can… It has been well said: "If our business or our possessions are our object, we make them as large as we can. If they are our burden, which we have to carry, we make them as small as we can."
- Nothing in, nothing out. We are life tenants, not owners; that fact, not poverty, is what sets the limit at food and covering.
- Enough is defined. "Covering" reaches past clothes to shelter. Both words are plural — God's provision has variety in it.
- Enough is reachable. The standard was already met in a slave's life, so no believer is shut out of contentment by circumstances.
- Enough is the escape. Contentment with the necessities is God's own way out of the snare that traps those who want to be rich.
- Enough rests on a Person. The satisfied heart is busy with Christ as its portion. It trusts that a Father holds back only what would wound.
But those who desire to be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and many unwise and hurtful lusts, which plunge men into destruction and ruin.
Paul sets godly contentment against the restlessness of people whose aim in life is wealth. He then traces the road they take: a wish, then a trap, then ruin.
The verse targets a settled intention rather than the mere fact of having money. One writer notes that the word carries the force of a plan the heart has adopted.
In contrast with godly contentment there is the restlessness of those who desire to be rich. Wealth has its snares, as the Apostle shows a little later. But what ruins the soul is not necessarily the possession of wealth; it is the "desire to be rich." Others have pointed out that this word "desire" includes the idea of purpose. The danger is this. Instead of being content to earn his living, the believer may set himself with "purpose" of heart to be rich. So riches become the object, instead of the Lord.
One writer puts it to the reader directly:
Do you want to be rich? You will fall into a pit. This is the point. It is not that there is any harm in money, but in the love of it.
The ambition itself is a verdict on the heart that holds it.
What does such a desire betray? Discontent with the calling God has given; distrust of His will, goodness, and wisdom in the way He deals with each of us… Child of God, where is your treasure? Is it Christ in heaven? If so, you are happy! If it is wealth or distinction, the Lord warns, There also will be your heart. Many hold a fond notion that flatly contradicts Christ: that while the life is swallowed up in the struggle for riches, the heart is not there at all but stays true to Him. What could be more false, or more deceiving!
Being tempted and falling into temptation are two different things.
To fall into temptation is quite different from being tempted. Being tempted is hard; but blessed is the one who endures temptation… Christ suffered while He was tempted. He did not give in to the pleasure of the moment and then lie down afterwards in useless sorrow.
The second word marks a further stage, where escape is no longer in the person's own hands:
"A snare" goes further still than temptation. It pictures the deceived soul caught in the enemy's net, and only the grace and power of the Lord can free him.
The craving does not stay single.
Further, the desire for riches does not come alone. It is the parent of "many senseless and harmful desires." It feeds vanity. It breeds pride. It serves selfishness. It suggests and promotes ambition, and so may be the means of corrupting others.
The verse ends with two words for ruin. The ESV has "ruin and destruction"; the writer below quotes an older wording, "destruction and perdition", and weighs each word.
The way is sad and evil, and the end is wretched beyond words… Of course this describes "men," not "saints." But some of the most terrible examples are people who once took that place, and were perhaps recognized without question among those who confessed Christ… "Destruction" is the general word for their ruin; "perdition" is sharper and more dreadful still. Part of the snare and folly is to lean on the Lord's name, as if wearing it must shield a person from the harm that unbelief brings — the unbelief that treats His word lightly and lets self-will run loose.
One writer sets the whole chain — temptation, snare, harmful desires, ruin — beside the plain wish that starts it, and points to the way out.
This is the association God makes — what in His mind is bound up with the commonest of all desires, the desire to be rich! And His path of escape is this: having food and clothing, let us be content with that.
- Desire. The warning falls on the purpose to be rich, not on the money itself. When riches become the aim, they have replaced the Lord.
- Distrust. Wanting to be rich betrays discontent with the place God has given, and doubt about His goodness. To think the heart stays with Christ while the life chases wealth is self-deception.
- Descent. The verse maps a slope. A person can endure temptation. A snare is worse: the enemy's net holds the soul, and only the Lord's grace can free it.
- Doubling. One desire breeds many. It feeds vanity and pride, serves selfishness, fuels ambition, and can corrupt others along the way.
- Destruction. The end described is that of "men," not of saints. Still, no one should assume that wearing Christ's name shields a life that lets self-will run loose. The escape is contentment with food and clothing.
For the love of money is [the] root of every evil; which some having aspired after, have wandered from the faith, and pierced themselves with many sorrows.
Paul has just been speaking about people who want to be rich. Now he names the root underneath. The verse says three things at once. It shows where evil grows from, what it costs a person's faith, and whose hand holds the knife.
Commentators are careful with the wording. The claim is not that every wrong in the world can be traced back to cash.
The love of money is declared to be the root of every kind of evil. It is not that every bit of evil in the world comes from the love of money. Rather, the love of money is a root, and on various occasions every kind of evil springs from it.
The same care appears elsewhere: money "is a root that bears all manner of evil, not that it is the only root" — and the pursuit "will always defeat its own ends."
The verse turns the common view of money upside down.
The language of men betrays their mammon-worship. They think of money, and the love of it, as a root of "goods." God calls it a root of "evils." And not just possible evils but real ones — the evils that exist, subtle or important, of the flesh and of the mind. So the Lord had warned the disciples about the cares of this life, the deceitfulness of riches, and the desire for other things creeping in.
The Greek word here is philarguria. It names an appetite that a profession of religion does not cure.
Philarguria (from philos and arguros) literally means "love of money." It is the miser's sin, and a person may indulge it while professing religion. So Luke 16:14 applies the word to the Pharisees, and 2 Timothy 3:2 applies it to people who had a form of godliness but denied its power. This love of money is a root of all kinds of evil (1 Timothy 6:10). Those who go after it are liable to wander away from the faith, and to pierce themselves through with many sorrows.
Of all the damage this root does, the pull away from faith comes first. That order points to what money becomes in a heart.
The love of money is such a deadly root of evils that its seductive pull away from the faith stands first among the dangers that follow. This may help to explain the strong language of Ephesians 5:5, where Scripture calls a covetous person an idolater, and of Colossians 3:5, which declares covetousness to be idolatry. Granted, the word used there goes beyond the love of money spoken of here. Still, the love of money is at least part of that unsatisfied greed, which becomes an absorbing idolatrous passion that shuts out true homage to the true God.
The image is of a man running himself onto a blade. Notice that reaching the goal offers no protection.
The eager pursuit of money tends to pierce those devoted to it through with many pangs. In that case it is hard to avoid deceit here and pretence there, hard words and ways to one person and soft ones to another. It is hard to avoid taking selfish advantage of people and things and times, with no thought of heart or circumstances, and still less of Christ before God. Success inflicts the many pangs as well as failure. In fact the most successful have their disappointments as a rule, and all the sharper ones.
Scripture supplies its own case studies, and in each the damage spread beyond the man himself.
The covetousness of Achan, the desire to enrich himself with the spoil of Jericho, not only brought destruction on himself, but humiliation and trouble on Israel. The love of money led Judas to betray the Son of God, and brought Balaam to the King of Moab to advise him how to overcome God's people.
The chapter does not stop at diagnosis. It sorts readers into two groups, then says what to run from and what to run after.
On riches, two classes appear: those who are not rich but wish to be (verses 9–12), and those who are rich already (verses 17–19)… Money is not evil in itself. But the love of it is a root from which every evil may spring. The Apostle had seen some people whose covetousness led them away from the faith. They pierced themselves through with many sorrows. Anyone who would be a man of God must flee these things. He must follow after righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience and meekness. And there is great need of such men.
- Root. The love of money is a root that can bear every kind of evil. It is not the only source of wrong. But any wrong may grow from it.
- Reversal. People treat money as a root of good things. God calls it a root of evils — evils that are real, not just possible.
- Rival. This appetite crowds God out. Scripture names covetousness idolatry, and faith is the first thing it costs you.
- Recoil. The wound is self-inflicted. The chase breeds deceit and hard dealing. Success brings its own disappointments, and the sharpest ones.
- Remedy. Flee it. Follow after righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience and meekness. That is the call for the man of God, whether you want to be rich or already are.