1 Timothy 6:5–10

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?"

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.

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.

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!

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.

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."

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

Having food and covering — and the slave had these things — let us be content with that.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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!

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.

"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.

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 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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.