Godliness With Contentment Is Great Gain (1 Timothy 6:4–8)

1 Tim. 6:4. He is proud, knowing nothing, but is obsessed with disputes and arguments over words, from which arise envy, strife, slander, and evil suspicions.

“He is proud.” This is the one who does not come to the words of the Lord or who interprets them perversely. God speaks and sets down laws, while the creature does not listen or, when listening, interprets what it has heard not according to God but according to itself, subjecting the divine to its own judgment as something displeasing to it. Both courses of action express the attitude: go away, I have no wish to know your ways. Not only sinners but above all heretics and false teachers speak this in the face of God. Is this not pride? This is the very pinnacle of pride—a Satanic pride, with which all false teachers are ordinarily filled to overflowing. And naturally so, for not heeding the word of God, they follow only their own reason, and reason puffs up. All false teachers are therefore swollen with pride, although they sometimes conceal it with a very humble appearance—in sheep’s clothing, while being wolves. Τετυφωται — he has puffed up, says the Apostle, like a soap bubble. A soap bubble appears to be something, but in reality has no substance. The false teacher likewise, not conforming to the direct word of God nor to the teaching of the Church—which is the pillar and foundation of truth—having constructed in his own mind his own system of teaching on salvation, goes about with it, dreaming in self-delusion that at last he has grasped the truth that others do not know. And he is puffed up. Yet it is clear that he does not know the truth at all, but has deviated into falsehood. Falsehood asserts that something exists which does not. Therefore, although it presents itself as knowledge and may appear so to others, it knows nothing in reality—it merely puffs itself up as if it knows. And the Apostle notes that the one who teaches otherwise “is proud, knowing nothing.” Suppose someone deceived your eyes and presented a heap of rubbish to you as a heap of gold. You would see what appeared to be a heap of gold, while in reality it remained a heap of rubbish. Such is every system of false teachers; it seems as brilliant as golden truth—yet in reality it is a collection of fancies containing no truth. And one may take it as a sure sign that, as soon as vain self-conceit attaches itself to some intellectual construction, rest assured that falsehood lurks within it, that this is not a grasping of truth but a fantasy—a knowing of nothing. St. Chrysostom says: “Therefore it happens that we are inflamed with pride not from knowing (the truth) but from not knowing it; because the one who knows the teaching that accords with godliness is the most skilled of all in humility; the one who is trained in sound doctrine is not possessed by this disease (of pride). Therefore one who knows something (who thinks he knows) can know nothing (as he ought); for one who does not know what he ought knows nothing.”

Since the false teacher, having constructed his own system of teaching, is puffed up by it, he cannot tolerate anything that contradicts it—considering this an offense against himself in his most sensitive point and a belittlement of his loftily maintained role as teacher. Hence he stirs up disputes and arguments over words wherever he goes; passionate contentiousness accompanies him and follows in his footsteps. This is what St. Paul points out next: “and is obsessed with disputes and arguments over words.” — “Disputes,” ζητησεις,—investigations, the raising of questions—what is this, why is that, how does such-and-such exist, and the like. And on they go, talks without end. “Arguments over words,” λογομαχιαι,—war over words. Since the false teacher presents as truth what is not such—that is, what does not correspond to reality—his speech contains nothing substantial but is a collection of words; and in defending himself he does nothing other than quarrel over words—he is obsessed with word-battles. By saying “is obsessed,” the Apostle conveys the idea that an insatiable urge for disputes reigns in the false teacher’s soul. This contentious spirit sits within him like a chronic sore. And he is forever arguing. — But the Apostles had as their rule not to start disputes: “we,” he says, “have no such custom” (1 Cor. 11:16). And St. Paul writes both to St. Titus and to St. Timothy not to get involved in disputes. State or bear witness to the truth—and that is sufficient. Whoever is of the truth will listen. But whoever is not of the truth—argue with him as long as you like, you will accomplish nothing. — Dispute arises from anxiety about the stability of one’s thought; and this anxiety comes from not being convinced of the sufficiency of its foundations. The Apostles received the truth directly from God and rested immovably in faith in it. And they had no need of special arguments to establish the truth for themselves. And for others they did not invent them, but only set forth what God the Holy Spirit inspired in them. — This is what the false teachers lack, and they hasten to make up for it with a din of words. — What the Apostles did, the same is done in the Church to this day: she sets forth “the teaching that accords with godliness,” which she received from God through the Apostles and which she has guarded and guards. Whoever is of the truth listens; whoever is not of the truth goes away. The Church sees this, but does not raise disputes—she only prays. St. Chrysostom says: “Therefore—argumentation is a disease. And rightly so. For the soul engages in inquiry (ζητησει,—disputation) when it is inflamed (as with fever) by thoughts, when they toss it about (that is, when it is sick); but when it is in a healthy state, it does not inquire but rests in faith. Through inquiry and disputes nothing can be found. For when inquiry undertakes to clarify what is proclaimed by faith alone, it neither reveals it nor gives it to be understood—just as if someone, having closed his eyes, were to seek something he wished to find: he could not (succeed in this). Thus without faith nothing can be discovered, and disputes are bound to arise.” “Where there is no faith,” continues Theophylact, “everything is sick; there only a verbal war (over words) flares up and nothing more—wherein the one more skilled in wrangling strains to overthrow the other. Faith is an eye; one who has no eyes finds nothing, but only seeks.”

Knowing nothing, he is puffed up as one who knows all, and is obsessed with contentiousness—such is the character of the false teacher. What fruit comes from this? “From these” (disputes and arguments over words) “arise envy, strife, slander, and evil suspicions.” All of this is visible in every verbal dispute. Envy envies the fact that another has got the upper hand. It is accompanied by “strife,” ερις,—ardor, evoking intense effort not to let another get ahead or gain the advantage, and to overthrow the one who has gained it. From this ardor comes the heat of the dispute; and in the heat of the dispute “slanders and evil suspicions” inevitably burst forth. “Slanders”: they slander one another over turns of phrase, inconsistency, ignorance of facts and aspects of the case, inaccurate understanding of testimonies, and the like. This more than anything inflames irritation and, by implanting discord and enmity, bars every entrance of truth into the soul. But along with this, simple slander cannot but carry over into blasphemy. For the disputing false teacher goes against the truth—and the truth of God, and therefore against God. Therefore, in slandering God’s truth, he blasphemes God. Nor is it surprising that some slander even directly against God itself will burst forth—regarding, for example, the economy of salvation, the holy mysteries, and providence in general. “Evil suspicions,” υπονοιαι πονηραι. — Υπονοιαι — suspicions, thoughts that creep in and steal their way: and is it not so? The false teacher does not spare the conscience of one who disagrees with him, but showers him relentlessly with phrases that grow ever more cutting. Among them it is not surprising to find some that will leave an impression and sow doubt: is it not so? This “is it not so,” like a splinter, will enter the heart and cloud the peace of faith and the clarity of the soul’s condition. Here is an example. A young monk was sent somewhere by his elder. On the road a Jew attached himself to him and started a dispute in defense of Judaism, which ended with the monk saying: perhaps it is so. When he returned home, the elder saw him dark as soot. “Perhaps it is so”—that was his evil suspicion, and this is what it produced. As something evil, proceeding from the dark one, the evil one, it filled his whole soul and body with darkness—because, of course, it had admitted the dark one himself within. — Rest in faith, avoiding all disputes, and you will escape such misfortune. Evil suspicions seem to be nothing—a mere breath of air. So it seems; in reality, however, they are a true wound requiring treatment. They are in the matter of faith what thoughts that take hold of the heart are in the matter of life. Just as the latter must either be driven out by struggle or cast one into a fall, so with respect to the former one must either fight urgently to reestablish the point of faith against which they are directed, or, failing to do this, one inevitably falls under their power and deviates from the truth. In this way all errors spread and all apostasies from the faith are accomplished.

1 Tim. 6:5. Constant wrangling by men of corrupt minds and destitute of the truth, who suppose that godliness is a means of gain. Withdraw from such people.

“Constant wrangling,” παραδιατριβαι. — Διατριβη — a passing of time, filling it with some occupation; hence conversations, reasonings, and discourses. Παραδιατριβη — all this in a bad sense: an idle spending of time, conversations leading to nothing good and not toward the good, reasonings and discourses foreign to the truth. “Constant wrangling” is the precise rendering of this word. Here what is meant is not the dispute itself, but its character or consequence and contagious nature. The dispute waged by false teachers is an idle and harmful way of spending time—harmful because, as was said just before, it breeds “evil suspicions.” Διατριβη is from τριβω — I rub. Those engaged in conversation rub against one another. But rubbing from a healthy person strengthens health, or at least does not disturb it; while rubbing from a sick person can transmit disease and infect. So it is here—rub yourself through conversation with a false teacher, and you may be infected with his false teaching and fall sick with heresy. According to St. Chrysostom, the words “constant wrangling” have in the Apostle this meaning: “Just as sheep infected with mange, when they come into contact with healthy ones, transmit their disease to them as well—so are these evil men.” In blessed Theodoret we read: “Those who have departed from the truth (false teachers) and follow their own thoughts attempt to teach what is not proper. — Hence arise ‘evil suspicions,’ and from them there springs a kind of ruinous disease that infects those nearby. This is what the words ‘constant wrangling’ mean. For just as diseased sheep grazing alongside healthy ones transmit their disease to them, so these men fill their neighbors with infection.” Oecumenius states directly: “Constant wrangling”—“the transmission of the disease of evil doctrines—a metaphor drawn from mangy sheep.” “As mangy sheep,” Theophylact explains, “by rubbing among healthy ones, infect them with their disease; so do false teachers, by rubbing with their conversations, παραδιατριβομενοι,—with others, corrupt them (in mind and heart with their false teaching).”

Therefore their fruit is such because they themselves are “of corrupt minds.” So are all who do not come to the wholesome (uncorrupted by misinterpretation) words of the Lord and to the teaching faithfully held and preserved by the Church. Their mind, having accepted false principles and propositions—or doctrines—has been corrupted and has corrupted them. They have only themselves to blame. Why did they allow their mind to take up what was beyond its strength? They should have bent it under the yoke of faith, compelled it to receive obediently what had been revealed and handed down, to study and assimilate it; but instead they allowed it to invent and fabricate the faith itself. And it has made a mess of things; but having taken its invention for certain truth, it has corrupted itself and corrupted them—and they have become “men of corrupt minds,” infecting others with their corruption. What else is to be expected from them? “A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good things; and an evil man out of the evil treasure brings forth evil things” (Matt. 12:35).

They are of corrupt minds because they are “destitute of the truth.” This is the cause of the corruption of the mind. Just as the possession of truth is the health of the mind, so being deprived of truth is its disease and corruption—just as the keeping and observance of the commandments is the health of the will, and deviation from them is its disease and corruption—and as sympathy with what is divine and heavenly, taste for it and delight in it is the health of the heart, while the absence of such sympathy, taste, and delight is its disease and corruption. What happens here is the same as, for example, with berries. Leave them as they are and they will quickly rot and decay; but saturate them with sugar, by boiling them in its solution, and they acquire the power to resist decay. So too the mind, left as it is, quickly corrupts; but saturate it with truth, and truth will impart to it firmness and power to resist all corruption. Deprivation of truth produces in the mind two evils—either the darkness of ignorance or corruption through heresy. The former is bad, but the latter is even worse. Darkness, deprivation of light, causes lethargy and even death; for nothing living can live without light—material things without material light, spiritual things without spiritual light. Truth is the light of the mind; without it the mind languishes or becomes deadened. This is a great evil; but for the deadened there may yet be hope that it will revive, come to itself, and live again. But one corrupted by heresy affords no such hope. It is damaged in its innermost and essential part; therefore it can be restored to the health proper to it by nature only by the power of God who created natures—that is, only by being re-created by a special grace of God.

“Who suppose that godliness is a means of gain.” — “Gain,” πορισμον. — Πορος — a sufficiency of all the necessities of life; πορισμος — the acquisition of these necessities and the means thereto. By “godliness” is meant faith in general. They, he says, regard faith as a means of acquisition—they turn it into such a means. This is the pinnacle of intellectual and moral corruption. There is no longer any faith here, still less any godliness or heartfelt disposition in the spirit of faith. Yet all their fussing is still about faith—and intense fussing at that, so that this business does not get along without disputes. Is this not the source of the disputes? Just as merchants argue over the price in their desire to increase their profit, so these false teachers start disputes everywhere, because otherwise they would not be able to get anything, and they would have to go hungry. “These disputants,” writes blessed Theophylact, “attracting disciples to themselves, profit from them and strive ever harder in disputes so as to draw ever more disciples to themselves”—of course, so as to gain ever more from them.

“Withdraw from such people.” “He did not say: grapple with them and fight, but: ‘withdraw’—that is, ‘after a first and second warning’ (Tit. 3:10). For when and with what can one persuade those who are fighting for profit and money? (blessed Theophylact). Otherwise you will not persuade such people except by giving them something; but even this will not satisfy their thirst for gain. ‘The eye of the covetous man,’ says the Scripture, ‘is not satisfied with his portion’ (Sir. 14:9). Therefore from them, as from the incorrigible, one must turn away” (St. Chrysostom).

β) An indication (1 Tim. 6:6–16)

The indication of the last unseemly characteristic in the false teachers gave St. Paul occasion to offer the necessary warnings against love of acquisition. Here he: αα) depicts the ruinous consequences of concern for gain, having first established the measure of needs and indicated the source of contentment with it (1 Tim. 6:6–10); and then: ββ) makes an address to St. Timothy appropriate to this subject (1 Tim. 6:11–16).

αα) The ruinous consequences of love of money (1 Tim. 6:6–10)

1 Tim. 6:6. Now godliness with contentment is great gain.

“Gain,” again: πορισμος,—acquisition, the having of what is needed, the possession of it. “Godliness”—true faith with a heart attuned in the spirit of faith and a corresponding life. Such godliness, he says, is in itself already an acquisition of necessities, or it brings with it the possession of what is needed—not because it gives wealth, but because it so disposes a man that he feels himself completely satisfied with regard to bodily needs, being content with what he has. Since godliness disposes him to be content with what he has, this very thing extinguishes every impulse toward acquisition. The godly man is rich because he is content with everything and feels no lack in anything—whereas, on the contrary, the wealthy man must be considered poor when he feels that he still lacks much. The words “godliness with contentment” do not carry the meaning: godliness along with having a sufficient quantity of necessities—though this too may be admitted—but rather: godliness together with the feeling of contentment, when godliness fills the heart of a man so fully that in spirit he feels himself content. “Those (false teachers, disputants) ‘wrongly suppose godliness is a means of gain’” (blessed Theophylact)—“because they deceitfully clothe themselves in the garment of godliness in order to have in it a means of acquisition” (Oecumenius). “In godliness too there is gain—but not as those suppose, but far higher. In it there is gain not when you have, but when you do not have: for it teaches contentment. And contentment is great and lasting wealth” (blessed Theophylact). “Godliness therefore is in itself true acquisition, because it is content with what exists and does not seek superabundance. Or (this may be understood thus) godliness is gain because in it one does not seek abundance, but is satisfied with having sufficient for what is needed” (Oecumenius).

Thus the spirit of godliness, making one content and therefore rich, extinguishes the thirst for acquisition. But every person can also be brought to the same conclusion by natural reason. What sense is there in spending care and labor on this, when you will take nothing with you when you leave?

1 Tim. 6:7. For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain that we can carry nothing out.

“This was also said by blessed Job: ‘Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return’ (Job 1:21)” (blessed Theodoret). “Thus, if we brought nothing and will carry nothing out, what need is there to care for having more than is necessary?” (Oecumenius). The false teachers are so sick with love of money that they even turn godliness into a means toward it. And by this they reveal all the more the weakness and corruption of their mind. For if their mind were sound, they would not be so concerned with material acquisitions. For “such acquisition means nothing, as is evident from the fact that it remains here and does not move with us (into the other world) and does not accompany us there. We came into this world having nothing, and we shall leave it having nothing as well. For the created being is born naked and departs naked. Therefore we need nothing superfluous, since we brought nothing with us and will depart having nothing” (St. Chrysostom). “In vain do mortal men strive to accumulate possessions and aspire to be rich, the Apostle openly proclaims, since they know that they can acquire nothing (inalienably) their own in this world. What does human greed serve, except perhaps to be its own enemy? Nothing is brought into the world by anyone, and nothing can be carried out. Why then burden oneself with cares and seek to gather wealth? You will go out the same as you came in. As Job also writes, confessing his conviction: ‘Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I go there… Blessed be the name of the Lord’ (Job 1:21). If misers did not hold back what they have accumulated for themselves alone to their own ruin, how many of them, even with little, could benefit so many—with benefit for themselves as well!” (Ambrosiaster).

1 Tim. 6:8. And having food and clothing, with these we shall be content.

Someone may say: although we bring nothing here and will carry nothing out; yet we must live while we are here. And to live we must have food and clothing. Therefore it is impossible to get along without having something. — But that, says the Apostle, is precisely all that is needed. There is food, there is clothing—and that is enough. “He determines here in what contentment, which he mentioned earlier, is to consist” (blessed Theophylact). “One must be fed by what and in such measure as is needed and sufficient for nourishment; one must be clothed with what can only protect us from the elements and cover our nakedness—and a simple garment can accomplish this. Nothing superfluous ought there to be” (St. Chrysostom). “Eat what nourishes you, and not only what pleases the palate, and dress in what covers and protects your nakedness, and not in what makes you soft or vain. Such is the meaning of the words ‘food’ and ‘clothing’” (Oecumenius). Moreover, “clothing,” σκεπασματα,—may include not only clothing alone, but also shelter. The Apostle’s meaning is: to limit the satisfaction of necessary bodily needs to what is most essential, so that care for them may not burden the head and the heart.

Having thus indicated the naturalness, reasonableness, and practicability of non-acquisitiveness for a Christian, the Apostle now vividly depicts the ruinous consequences for faith and virtue of love of acquisition.