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.
I enjoin thee before God who preserves all things in life, and Christ Jesus who witnessed before Pontius Pilate the good confession,
Paul gives his younger fellow-worker a solemn charge, and he names two witnesses for it: God, and Christ Jesus. Why these two names, and what did Christ confess at His trial before the Roman governor Pontius Pilate?
Paul does not just give advice. He sets Timothy in front of two Persons and leaves him there. One writer sets the moment beside an earlier commissioning, and shows what each name does for Timothy:
When Moses was about to leave this life, God told him to give Joshua a charge in the sight of all the congregation (Numbers 27:19). Now, before Paul left, he gave Timothy a charge — but in the sight of God and the Lord Jesus Christ, making Timothy aware that he stood in their presence. Timothy was to keep the commandment without spot and beyond reproach until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ… Paul placed him before God, who keeps all things in life, and before Christ Jesus, who witnessed a good confession before Pontius Pilate. Mentioning God in this character would give him courage, and remembering Christ Jesus as a faithful witness would encourage him.
Commentators differ over how to read one word here. Some translations say God "gives life to all things." Others say He "preserves all things in life." One writer makes the case for the second sense:
"Quickening," or creating, is not the thought. The thought is "keeping alive"… The usage in the New Testament, and in the Greek Old Testament, clearly points to saving alive or preserving. And here it is "all things", not persons, that are in question, though some go so far as to teach the contrary. God, who is the source of life, is also the preserver of all things. The man who takes up His cause in a hostile scene can count on this, and needs to count on it.
That title matters when faithfulness turns dangerous:
The Apostle encourages us to keep this charge. He reminds us that we live in the sight of One who preserves all things in life. Can He not then preserve His own, however severe the conflict they may have to pass through?
One writer defines confession by what it stands against, and by what it costs:
Confession stands by the truth of God against the lie of man, and it stands by it at the risk of everything. Our Jesus bore this witness. Throughout His life and ministry it was the way of the Son of God to hide Himself… He had come in His Father's name and not in His own. He sought not His own glory, but the glory of Him who sent Him. But the time was to come when He must openly stand confessed.
Why single out this one trial? Look at who faced whom, and at how few words the Lord needed:
Here was God's true Representative in the world, standing before the man who represents the world. How precious and clear His witness, though His words were few. He bore witness to the truth. His kingdom was not of this world, but He was a King indeed, God's King, high above everything that only lasts for a time. He sought no prominence in this world, but the glory of His Father (John 18:33-37). This gives precious character to the commandment Paul tells Timothy to keep: "without spot, beyond reproach." There must be no lapse, no tarnishing of this testimony.
Christ is more than an example. He went that way first, and He supports His servants now:
He is on high to support His servants. But here He was, as no one else, "the faithful Witness," the good Confessor. What cheer for the man who might lose heart through timid advice, or through the demoralising effect of compromise… He has to follow His steps in this as in all things. And if he knows his weakness — as he surely will, more and more, in the hard conflict — he has only to spread it out before the One whose grace is enough and whose strength is made perfect in weakness.
- Two witnesses. The charge is a commission, not private advice. Paul gives it in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, with Timothy aware that he stands before them both.
- Preserver. The first witness is God, who holds all things in life. His servant in a hostile place can count on Him to preserve His own.
- Confession. The second witness is Christ, who stood by the truth of God against the lie of man, at the risk of everything.
- Pilate's hall. There God's true Representative stood before the world's representative. In a few words He owned that He was King, though His kingdom was not of this world.
- Untarnished. Such a Model stands over the charge. So keep the commandment without spot and beyond reproach, leaning on the grace that is made perfect in weakness.
that thou keep the commandment spotless, irreproachable, until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ;
Paul does not simply advise Timothy here; he places him under a formal charge, spoken as if in a courtroom where God and Christ Jesus are looking on. One writer sets the moment beside the day when Moses handed his commission to Joshua, his successor, in front of the whole nation.
When Moses was about to leave this life, God told him to give Joshua a charge in front of the whole congregation (Numbers 27:19). Now, before Paul left, he gave Timothy a charge too. But it was in the sight of God and the Lord Jesus Christ. He set Timothy in their presence, aware of it, and told him to keep the commandment unstained and free from reproach until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ... Thinking of God in this character would make him bold. Remembering Christ Jesus as a faithful witness would give him courage.
The word is not narrow. It covers everything Paul has laid on Timothy in this letter. Timothy keeps it by refusing every human improvement on it.
This commandment no doubt covered everything the apostle charged Timothy with in this letter. It covered all that concerns behaviour in the house of God, all he was to avoid and all he was to pursue. Timothy was to surrender nothing. He was not to stain the commandment with human tradition, with compromises, or by bringing in anything that came from the heart or mind of man.
Christ's own testimony before Pilate, the Roman governor, sets the standard for Timothy's witness.
Here was God's true Representative in the world, standing before the man who represents the world. How precious and clear His witness, though His words were few. He bore witness to the truth. His kingdom was not of this world, yet He was a real King, God's King, far above everything that only belongs to this passing age... This gives precious character to the commandment Timothy is told to keep unstained and free from reproach. There is to be no lapse, no tarnishing of this testimony that would leave him open to rebuke, because it is all in view of the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Two different events are in view, and Paul names one of them on purpose. One writer shows that Christ's public appearing, not His coming to take His own out of the world, is what settles the question of a servant's faithfulness.
The coming of the Lord does not display us before the world; it takes us right out of it to be with Christ... There the apostle urges his faithful fellow-worker to keep this commandment unstained and free from reproach, until — the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ? No; but "the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ." The coming of our Lord will not prove whether Timothy has been faithful. His appearing will prove it completely. The appearing of the Lord Jesus therefore is the right and proper word, and none other.
Some read the verse as though Paul expected Timothy to live until that day. Another writer answers that the appearing marks the finish line of responsibility, whatever happens to the servant before it.
Timothy is urged to keep the commandment unstained and free from reproach until the appearing of Jesus Christ. This verse is often used to argue the opposite, but it in fact shows how such words are to be taken. The appearing is the goal of responsibility. Whatever fills the time between now and the end of his path here would not change the exhortation. And no one would claim the apostle meant to guarantee that Timothy would live until the appearing.
What keeps a grip like that firm? One writer points to the faith of Christ Himself, and to the promise Timothy was told to hold on to.
The brightness of "the joy set before Him" never dimmed in the perfect faith of Jesus, even though the cross tested His hold on it to the very limit. In the same way, Timothy was to keep his grasp of eternal life, whatever else he might give up. God had set that promise before him. He would bring it out in all its promised blessing and glory at the appearing of Jesus. Timothy was to cling to it despite the whole world.
- Charged — Paul sets Timothy in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, as Moses commissioned Joshua before the whole nation.
- Entrusted — "the commandment" covers all Paul has told him about conduct in God's house. Timothy surrenders nothing and adds nothing of human origin.
- Unstained — Christ's clear witness before Pilate sets the pattern. No lapse, no stain on the testimony, nothing that leaves the servant open to rebuke.
- Until the appearing — Paul names Christ's public appearing, not His coming to take His own out of the world. Only the appearing will show how faithful a servant has been.
- Not till death, but till that day — the appearing is the goal of responsibility, not a promise that Timothy would live to see it. Hope of that day keeps his grip firm against the pull of the world.
which in its own time the blessed and only Ruler shall shew, the King of those that reign, and Lord of those that exercise lordship;
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
who only has immortality, dwelling in unapproachable light; whom no man has seen, nor is able to see; to whom [be] honour and eternal might. Amen.
Paul ends his charge to Timothy with worship, not with another instruction. He piles up three claims no creature can share: God alone has immortality, He lives in light no one can come near, and no human eye has ever seen Him. Each claim raises the same question. So how can anyone know such a God?
The word translated "immortality" is rare. Here it marks off something that belongs to God and to no one else.
The Greek word, athanasia, immortality, occurs only three times in the Scriptures. First, as to God Himself. He only has immortality. It is inherent in Him — not given, not gained, but His, belonging to His own nature and being (1 Tim. 6:16). The other two cases (1 Cor. 15:53-54) concern the saints alive on this earth when the Lord comes.
Some have used this line to argue that the human soul must therefore die. Commentators answer that the verse speaks of what God is in Himself, not of what He can give:
When it is said of God that "He only has immortality," the reference is to essential, not to conferred, being. Even those who misuse the text do not deny that the angels are immortal. Our Lord Himself said this is their condition, and that the risen saints will be like them in this way. "They cannot die anymore, because they are equal to angels" (Luke 20:36). So God's having immortality alone fits perfectly with the immortality of angels — and, if so, with the immortality of the human soul. The soul is immortal as angels are, but only because God makes both so.
The barrier between God and His creatures is not darkness. It is brightness too great for any eye to bear. The praise that follows carries a lesson about our own place.
He dwells in light unapproachable, not in darkness, but in light infinitely brighter than any created eye can bear. Honour and power everlasting are His alone. The heart that gladly gives Him this praise will willingly accept a place where he himself is given no honour or power.
This letter, more than any other, holds God up in a majesty that stays out of reach.
This character of the epistle is very remarkable. Nowhere else does Scripture present the unapproachable majesty of God, as God, in this way. Elsewhere it often teaches and shows His character. Here He alone has essential immortality. He dwells in inaccessible light. He is always invisible to the eyes of men. He alone has power. He has dominion over all who reign. This is God in His own pure essence, unchanging in His being, holding the rights of His majesty — veiled to all men.
But the Old Testament tells of people who "saw the God of Israel." Writers answer that they saw a display of God, not His own being:
Moses and the privileged group who climbed Sinai with him "saw the God of Israel," and this does not contradict 1 Timothy 6:16, which refers to God in His essential being and glory. As Ezekiel saw "the likeness of the glory of the Lord" (Ezek. 1:28), and as John on Patmos saw One who sat on the throne, who was "like jasper and carnelian" (Rev. 4:3), so these saw a manifestation of God. We note that no attempt to describe Him is made.
No one has seen God. So God must come out and make Himself known — and He has.
He is "the Word" — the expression of all that is in the divine mind — the full and blessed revelation of God. Until He became man, God was unexpressed, and so unknown, for "no one has ever seen God." But "the only God, who is at the Father's side, He has made Him known." (John 1:18; older translations read "the only begotten Son.") God is in the light, and the Person of the Son perfectly discloses everything that belongs to His nature and character.
The two truths stand together: believers know the very God whose dwelling they can never enter.
The blessing we are brought into is deep and full, and here is a wonderful witness of it. Through the Holy Spirit — God dwelling in us and we in Him — we come to know Him, and we know the blessedness into which no creature can enter. God dwells in the light which no one can approach — yet we know Him as dwelling there. We know what light is, and we understand that in that essential being and glory He must be unapproachable — and still we know Him there.
- Inherent — God alone cannot die. That life is His by nature: no one gave it to Him, and He never gained it.
- Conferred — What is His by nature He can give. Angels and the risen saints live forever because He makes them so.
- Unapproachable — What keeps us out is light, not darkness. No created eye can bear that brightness, so no one has seen Him or can.
- Veiled — This is God in the rights of His majesty. Moses, Ezekiel and John saw God displayed, not His essential being.
- Declared — The Son came out of that light and made God known. Those who can never approach Him still know Him. Honour and power everlasting are His.
Enjoin on those rich in the present age not to be high-minded, nor to trust on the uncertainty of riches; but in the God who affords us all things richly for [our] enjoyment;
Paul's final charge in this letter is not aimed at people chasing money. It is aimed at those who already have it — the rich in this present age. He names two dangers that come with wealth. Then he sets one safe hope against them: God Himself, the generous Giver.
The phrase marks a time frame as much as a bank balance. Wealth belongs to this age only. That does not make poverty holy, but it does put the rich on notice.
Yet nothing here gives fanatical credit to the clothing or habits of poverty. There is no pious avoiding of ordinary food or shelter among the homes of men. Still less is there a hint that a life shut away in a monastery is worth more... But those who are rich in the present age ("this present evil age," as the same apostle stamps it in Gal. 1:4) especially need to be on their guard. They must listen, not to the voice of flattery that is so often close at hand, but to the solemn warning of the Holy Spirit.
Money changes how a person sees himself. The verse warns the rich not to be haughty. One writer shows where that pride surfaces inside the church.
His words show first of all the dangers that come with having wealth. Wealth tends to breed high-mindedness. It turns the owner from trusting God to trusting money. The rich man of the world thinks highly of himself. He feels safe from the ordinary troubles and struggles that other people face. The wealthy Christian must not imagine that his money gives him the right to dominate the church of God and lord it over fellow believers.
The verse points to "the uncertainty of riches." Money is not called dirty here. It is called unstable — and something unstable cannot carry a hope.
So the apostle warns first against high-mindedness. Next he warns against building one's hopes on the stability of what so quickly takes wings and flies away. The owner is so often called away from it in the middle of his own ambitious plans. "Uncertainty of riches" indeed: how true and how fitting!
The verse does not stop at what to avoid. It names the alternative, and one writer links it to what rich believers should be reaching for.
We saw that trust in the living God is the very essence of godliness when we were looking at 1 Tim. 4:10. The expression occurs again in verse 17 here. Rich believers are to be godly. They are to bend their energies not to laying hold of larger things in this world but to laying hold of "eternal life," or "that which is really life." Real life is not found in money and the pleasures it buys but in the knowledge and service of God.
This trust also changes how rich and poor compare.
The safeguard against these snares is found in trusting in the living God, who gives us richly all things to enjoy. However rich a man may be, he cannot buy the things that God gives. However poor, he can receive and enjoy what God gives.
The word enjoy rules out a grim, self-denying religion. One writer sets luxury and harsh self-denial side by side and finds the same root under both.
You could not imagine a sentence that condemns the spirit of asceticism more completely. Strict self-denial looks better than the love of ease and luxury. But both are only forms of selfishness, however opposite they seem. Neither has the character of God, who has not left Himself without witness of His goodness toward men, even among the nations allowed to go their own ways.
Real trust does not stay private. It begins to look like the God it rests on.
We must constantly exercise trust in the Living God, He who gives richly all things to enjoy. If this trust is real, then it will reflect His own character of unselfish giving. They were to do positive good with what they had: let them be rich in good works, not only in possessions.
- Trust misplaced — Wealth breeds high-mindedness and a false sense of safety. Money must not make a believer feel above other people.
- Trust exposed — Riches belong to the present age and are uncertain. They take wings and fly away, often in the middle of the owner's plans.
- Trust relocated — The cure is not less money but a new anchor: the living God. Trusting Him is the very essence of godliness.
- Trust rewarded — God gives richly to enjoy. Harsh self-denial is condemned as much as luxury, and the poorest believer receives what the richest cannot buy.
- Trust displayed — Real trust reflects the Giver. It makes the rich man rich in good works, not only in possessions.
to do good, to be rich in good works, to be liberal in distributing, disposed to communicate [of their substance],
Paul has just told Timothy to charge rich Christians not to be proud, and not to set their hope on money but on God. Verse 18 turns that trust into action. It gives four short commands that decide what a Christian's money does.
The first two terms sound alike. One commentator draws a line between them: kindness aimed at people, and works that are good in themselves before God:
But God also looks for active good from rich people who are godly, since He Himself never tires of doing good (Acts 14:17). So the call follows: "to do good, to be rich in good works." There is an important shade of difference between the two acts. The first means doing works of kindness or goodness to others. Being "rich in good works" means overflowing with fair, upright works that are beautiful in themselves. The first are good in relation to others; the second are good in themselves. It matters greatly that the two are joined so closely, here and elsewhere. Most people praise the kind that affects man, and forget or belittle what counts for more: what is good in itself before God. Both flow from faith and love, and how acceptable both are!
The last two terms are "generous and ready to share" in the ESV, and "ready to distribute, willing to communicate" in older translations. The same writer says they reach past emergency relief:
Even this does not express all the generous outgoing of heart the apostle wants the rich to seek. He adds, as if he could not think of the poor enough, "to be liberal in distributing, ready to communicate." I take it that this goes beyond cases of urgent need. Some calls suit people of large means in particular, as in the many different needs of the Lord's work and witness. There are so many chances to promote His glory — and many of them are not the kind one would want to lay as a burden on the whole church!
One writer follows the word "communicate" through its other uses. Those uses point to a group with a real claim on the giver:
The meaning of this scripture lies on the surface, once you understand the term "communicate." Two examples of its use will be enough. In Romans 12:13 it appears in the exhortation, "distributing to the necessity of saints," and in 1 Timothy 6:18 it appears as "willing to communicate." These two examples make Galatians 6:6 easy to read. What the apostle commands there is that the one who is taught in the word should share his "good things" with the teacher. In other words, the taught should enjoy the privilege of supplying the material needs of the teacher.
Another writer rules out softening the word into friendliness. Older Bibles offered "sociable" in the margin, and he says there is "no foundation whatever" for it.
Where a person's trust rests decides whether his hand opens:
Trusting in the living God, who is the Giver of all good, will enable the rich man also to become a giver. But God loves a cheerful giver, so the apostle urges the rich man to be "ready to distribute" and "willing to communicate". Acting this way, he will lay up a good store for future blessing, instead of piling up riches for this present age.
Dorcas was a Christian woman in the book of Acts. One writer sees this verse lived out in her, and traces her giving back to its source:
Dorcas was in the spirit of this exhortation. She was rich in good works, ready to distribute, willing to share what she had; for she had learned "the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich" (2 Cor. 8:9); and by that same grace she had become His representative in the world. She was a giver, because God, who had brought her to Himself, was a Giver. She knew she was not her own. She knew that all she had she held only as a steward for Him, to whom she belonged. So she placed both herself and her goods at His disposal.
Money given this way is not lost. It is moved:
God has given to the rich this means of laying up treasure in heaven in view of Christ's kingdom. It is wonderful that natural riches can, in this way, provide spiritual riches. The poor can also lay up treasure in heaven, for God has chosen the poor to be rich in faith. What is laid up for the time to come will surely be found with Christ in the day of His glory.
- Trust first. Giving starts with where your hope rests. Trusting the living God, the Giver of all good, "will enable the rich man also to become a giver."
- Gift becomes deed. Two kinds of doing belong together: kindness that helps people, and works "good in itself before God." Most people praise the first and forget the second.
- Deed becomes reach. Sharing goes past emergencies to the Lord's work, and includes supporting those who teach you the word.
- Reach has a face. Dorcas gave "because God, who had brought her to Himself, was a Giver" — a steward, not an owner.
- Result is stored. Money spent this way is not lost. It is moved: "what is laid up for the time to come will surely be found with Christ in the day of His glory."
laying by for themselves a good foundation for the future, that they may lay hold of [what is] really life.
Paul ends his charge to wealthy believers with advice that sounds backwards: the way to store something up is to give it away. Two phrases carry the weight — "a good foundation for the future," and life that is "truly life."
The instruction turns ordinary saving upside down. What the rich give away, they are actually storing up.
Here Paul tells the rich believers to lay up in store for themselves a good foundation for the time to come by their generous giving to others. It may not seem like good common sense, but it is the surer way of grace in faith. To be consistent with Christ is to treasure up for ourselves. It is all the better when we do it so that the left hand does not know what the right hand is doing. It is a key truth in Christian practice that our Father sees in secret. It is just as true that we will have reward later with Him who is in heaven.
The exchange changes what a person ends up owning.
A rich person may use his wealth in the service of God and in the help of His people. So the man who starts out rich in money may end up rich in good works, and this is wealth of a more lasting kind. Earthly riches are uncertain. The man who stores them up for himself may find his store badly depleted just when he needs it most. The man who uses his riches in the service of God is laying up a good foundation of reward in eternity.
"The time to come" is not vague. One commentator explains it by comparing the Christian with a shrewd manager in one of Jesus' parables.
The dishonest manager of Luke 16 is an example of this. Our Lord did not approve his dishonesty, but He did approve his prudence. While he had the opportunity, he used it with an eye to the future. The Christian should do the same. But there is this difference. The manager had dreaded days of unemployment ahead of him. The Christian should keep in view the judgment seat of Christ, where everything we have done will be brought into the light of God.
Nothing here says that generosity buys a place with God.
It is no question at all of the grace by which a person is saved, and that entirely apart from works. It is the teaching of that grace which has saved us, leading us to sacrifice all present advantages in view of what is future and eternal.
The two are easily blurred, and the confusion robs such instructions of their proper force.
When God has saved us, He will keep us, but we have to go through the wilderness, where we have a great deal to learn, including the question of service, and even of rewards, and much more besides. People mix all these things up with the question of acceptance. But as to the crown in front of me, that is not a question of my being saved; it is my encouragement.
Commentators differ on the wording, and many render the closing phrase "that which is really life."
Rich believers are to be godly. They are to bend their energies not toward laying hold of bigger things in this world, but toward laying hold of "eternal life," or "that which is really life." The second reading is probably the correct one. Real life is not found in money and the pleasures it buys, but in the knowledge and service of God.
Taking hold of it happens now, and it shows in how a believer treats the world.
We lay hold on eternal life as we realise in our souls that we do not belong to this sphere. Everything for us is bound up with the place we are going to. So we learn to see the things of this life very differently from the way we once saw them. 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.
Comfort does not have to be sinful to be dangerous.
Satan is busy, even among Christians, shutting out the things of God. He does it through things that in themselves may not be evil. We are taken up with them and pressed by them, and we have not learned to link them with God and use them for God. Sadly, the secular part of our lives quietly steals away so much of "what is really life."
The verse addresses the rich, but the principle is not limited to them.
"Storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life," is the apostolic instruction about those who are rich in this world. In measure, all may do this, even those who are poor in this world's goods. To lay up treasure in heaven for themselves is the privilege even of the poorest in the church.
- Deposit. Giving is not spending. It moves uncertain money into lasting wealth: the person rich in cash ends up rich in good works.
- Date. The deposit matures at the judgment seat of Christ, not on a rainy day here.
- Free. The foundation buys no salvation. It is grace already received, now teaching us to trade present advantage for what is eternal.
- Real. What we take hold of is "that which is truly life" — fellowship with God, not the pleasures money buys.
- Everyone. The charge names the rich, but laying up treasure in heaven is open to the poorest believer as well.