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.
But *thou*, O man of God, flee these things, and pursue righteousness, piety, faith, love, endurance, meekness of spirit.
Paul has just warned about the craving for money and the ruin it brings. Now he turns to one man, gives him a title from the Old Testament, and tells him to run from one thing and chase another.
The "these things" Timothy must flee are the cravings Paul has just exposed. One writer ties that flight to Timothy's place in the world. (Where the ESV has "steadfastness" and "gentleness," older translations read "patience" and "meekness.")
The desire to be rich was the path of snares and temptation, of foolish and hurtful lusts. Timothy was to flee these things, as a man of God. This is always the thought here. He was in the world on God's behalf. He represented Him in his part of the work. So he was to follow after something other than earthly riches. He was to follow the character of a man of God: righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, meekness. These were the things which, in a man, presented God to the world and glorified Him.
The title did not start with Paul. It has a long history and a settled use.
"Man of God" is a phrase that occurs often, from the five books of Moses right through the history books of the Old Testament. It is used again and again of a prophet. It marks him out as a man identified with the interests and character of God in deed and in truth. He can still fail, of course, and then suffer chastening. In the New Testament the phrase appears only in the two letters to Timothy. Here Paul uses it of the man he writes to, to stir him up and warn him. In the second letter it is open to all who, in an evil day, make good in faithful and holy devotedness to God what the title implies.
Another writer looks at the wording, and finds the title is not for men only.
Paul's words "O man of God" are an urgent and very personal appeal. Urgent, because of the need of the hour; and personal, because of the individual responsibility to meet this need. The Greek word for "man" above is without distinction of sex. It should be the character of men and women who are devoted to the Lord Jesus. They love the great truth of the house of God (1 Tim. 3:15).
One writer takes the six words one at a time.
It is not enough to avoid evil. There must be the pursuit of good… However others may act, the man of God will seek to walk in a way that fits his relationships to others as brothers and sisters. This is righteousness… The man of God will also pursue faith that has Christ for its Object. And he will pursue love that goes out to his brothers and sisters. That love bears evil and insults with quiet endurance and meekness, instead of impatience and resentment.
The list is not random. Its first and last items cover the two ends of a person.
Six lovely features hang together like a cluster of fruit. The list begins with righteousness, which always has to be to the front in a world of unrighteousness and sin. It ends with meekness, the very opposite of what we are by nature. Meekness concerns our spirit, as righteousness concerns our acts.
"Godliness" in this verse is also translated "piety." One writer says what it is, and what it is not.
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 a show of holiness that seeks to exalt self.
Paul names these qualities before he calls Timothy to fight. The order has a reason.
Confusion was growing. So the apostle gives the moral features which should mark the "man of God." These features would fit him for the conflict with the power of evil that he cannot avoid. No servant of Christ can hold up the standard of the truth unless the truth has first formed him. If he tries, he will only invite a disastrous defeat. In life, as well as in word, he must be a representative of the Master whom he serves.
These six are not just an ideal. They have all been lived out.
If we are to be men of God, we must flee what draws the men of this world. We must follow what was seen in Jesus here on earth. All these precious moral features shone in their fulness and perfection in the Son of God.
- Flee — the "these things" are the cravings behind the love of money. The man of God runs because he stands in the world on God's behalf.
- Follow — avoiding evil is not enough. The same verse turns the retreat into a pursuit.
- Six — the cluster starts with righteousness, which rules our acts, and ends with meekness, which rules our spirit.
- Formed — the qualities come before the fight, because no one can hold up a truth that has not first shaped him.
- Fulfilled — every feature named was seen in its fulness in the Son of God, so the pursuit is a following of Him.
Strive earnestly [in] the good conflict of faith. Lay hold of eternal life, to which thou hast been called, and hast confessed the good confession before many witnesses.
Paul has just warned Timothy about the love of money, and now he turns him the other way: fight, and take hold. Behind both commands stand a call Timothy received and a confession he made in public, and commentators ask how a life already given can still be grasped.
The charge does not start with battle. It starts with the character of the man sent into it.
As the confusion grew, the apostle gives the moral features that should mark the "man of God." These would fit him for his unavoidable conflict with the power of evil. No servant of Christ can hold up the standard of the truth unless the truth has formed him. If he tries, it will only end in disastrous defeat. In life, as well as in word, he must represent the Master whom he serves.
"The faith" here means more than Timothy's own trust. The same writer takes it as the body of truth handed to the saints.
The good fight of faith is contending earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints. That means the truth which had been spread among the saints and received by them. So the faith is the thing believed. But remember: without faith at work in the soul now, this fight could not be won. Otherwise, however earnest the argument, "the faith" might be nothing more than a dead creed.
Another writer traces the fight to the enemy's presence.
Meanwhile there was conflict: he must fight the good fight of faith. If anyone represents God in the world, there must be warfare, because the enemy is there. Faith's energy was also needed to lay hold of eternal life among the temptations and difficulties that the "things that are seen" bring.
If eternal life is a gift, why command a man to seize it? One commentator separates having it from entering into it.
This life is a personal possession. So the command does not mean obtaining eternal life; that is the gift of God. You must lay hold of it in faith, enter into it and enjoy it. Many have eternal life, but what they need is a practical laying hold of all that it implies and all that goes with it.
Another writer makes this a matter of where you believe you belong.
We lay hold on eternal life as we realise in our souls that we do not belong to this sphere. Everything for us is tied to the scene we are going to... We realise that the true life is life in fellowship with God. In the Spirit's power we can then use this world without abusing it, walking as Christ walked, who alone fully showed eternal life in this scene of death.
The command comes right after the warning about money. One writer pictures Timothy refusing to let go of his catch.
Timothy was to lay hold of eternal life, and let nothing shake his prey loose... The world around him was content to take its portion in this life, and many through the love of it had wandered from the faith (v. 10). But Timothy was to flee this as he pursued eternal life. Faith knew its object from the word of promise; and Timothy was to embrace it at every cost.
The command rests on something God did first — a call. One writer says plainly what that call is not for.
Our calling as Christians is a high calling, holy and heavenly. Like Abraham, we are to be pilgrims and strangers while we wait for all that God has promised us. God has not called us to present ease and the enjoyment of the world's pleasures. He has called us to conflict with the powers of darkness, and to the present enjoyment of heavenly things.
Timothy had said something publicly, and Paul brings it back to mind. One writer notes how little visible support such a confession has.
But it is hard indeed to keep up a profession contradicted, as far as sight goes, by everything in us and around us... Timothy had confessed a good confession before many witnesses, and he needed reminding of it. And so do we. For we so easily forget that we are what we are in hope.
The confession is meant to show in conduct, not only in words:
If the man of God flees from evil, follows good, fights for the faith and lays hold of eternal life, his life will make a good confession before others. He becomes a living witness to the truths that he professes.
- Formed first. No one can hold up the standard of truth unless the truth has shaped him. Character comes before conflict.
- Fight. The good fight is contending for the faith once delivered. It is unavoidable: whoever represents God stands where the enemy is.
- Lay hold. Eternal life is God's gift, already yours. The command is to enter it, enjoy it and live it.
- Called. God did not call us to ease and the world's pleasures. He called us to fight the powers of darkness and to enjoy heavenly things now.
- Confess. A grip that outlasts the world's portion shows itself in a life that witnesses to what the mouth professes.