Of course,
there is great gain in godliness combined with contentment.
—1 Timothy 6:6
Introduction: Why
Bother?
Christians are very
often our own worst enemies. I might go so far as to say that the most
effective argument against the practice of Christianity is the way Christianity
is practiced. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then perhaps it might
do to sit back and compare the life of Christ to the lives of most of us
Christians. Christ was kind and understanding, and he knew just when to get
mad. His followers are too seldom kind and too often angry. Christ appears to
have had no home, but went from town to town trusting that God—through other
people—would take care of his needs. We place too little trust in God, and too
much trust in possessions. Christ was courageous, speaking the truth to power,
and refusing—even in the face of certain death—to mislead people about who he
was and what he was about. We are often too afraid to speak up when we could
witness for our faith, or even when we hear a comment that denigrates a sister
or a brother.
These are just a few
of the examples of how we don’t measure up to Christ. And since this has always
been the case with disciples of Christ, you’d think that the movement begun by
Christ would’ve been condemned from the beginning. And if we are tempted to
think that, there’s obviously something we’re forgetting—something that trumps
all the negatives and shortcomings of the people who call ourselves Christian.
And that is forgiveness and grace. In the history of religion—unless there is a
religion somewhere that preaches mediocrity, cowardice, and hypocrisy—there has
never been a group of adherents who live up to the ideals of their religion.
But the Christian faith bases our obedience to Christ’s ideals not on the fact
that we must do them in order to be accepted by God, but that because we are
accepted by God, we respond by being obedient. That’s because ours is a faith
based not on legalism and judgment, but on forgiveness and grace.
I. An Exposé
And there are many
occasions in our own lives and even in the history of the church when we must
be forgiving. And a reading of the sixth chapter of 1 Timothy is one of those
occasions. If you paid attention to the New Testament reading this morning,
you’re probably wondering what I’m talking about. It was actually a beautiful
reading, and it even included one of our favorite (if most misquoted) verses—or
at least partial verses. Though we often hear people (maybe even say ourselves)
say that “money is the root of all evil,” 1 Timothy 6:10 actually says that “the
love of money is the root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be
rich, some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many
pains.”
Stern preaching, but
what’s the problem?
Well, the problem is
context. The teaching in the First Letter to Timothy that led up to that saying
was actually directed toward people who were held as slaves, telling them to
serve their masters with respect—especially if their masters are fellow
believers. Though I know that slavery in the first century Mediterranean world
bore little resemblance to what developed in North America in the not so
distant past, but I still wish that I could do more to distance myself from a
religion that endorsed any kind of slavery than to simply omit verses from the
Bible that refer to it. Because that’s what just happened here. Whoever
formulated the common lectionary went to great pains to omit verses that we
find distasteful today. But I think it’s only being honest to point out that
when we hear the writer of this letter telling us that “there is great gain in
godliness combined with contentment” [6:6], the comment was actually addressed
to “all who are under the yoke of slavery” [6:1].
The Bible’s grand
narrative is all about ever-broadening acceptance and ever-greater freedom, but
there are still many references that send us back into a past when Israel was
still in slavery, and women were still denied their rights. I’ve always felt
that it is best to be honest about what’s in the Bible. Because if we’re
ignorant of it, there’s going to be somebody who’s more than willing to remind
us of it—either a believer who wants to bring judgment on others, or a
non-believer who wants to expose the side of our scriptures that we’d like to
hide.
II. Ambition
And it’s not like the
connection here had no consequences. The Reformers often maintained that the
state people were born into was God’s will for them, and that they weren’t to have
ambition. Maybe this was intended simply to make lives easier, since all the
ambition in the world wouldn’t have turn the peasant into nobility in those
days. But we live in a country which has always been opposed to that idea, and
so encouraging people to be content with their lot in life seems rather cruel
to us. Let people dream, let them have ambition, let them move up in life!
But is that all there
is? Blind ambition and unmitigated greed are a great combination for getting
ahead in the world. But is getting ahead in the world what people really need…
or even what they really want?
There are, no doubt,
some lost souls who are willing to do anything to get ahead. They’ll lie,
cheat, and steal their way to the top. This doesn’t characterize everybody who
is successful. Nor is this to say that everybody who’s ambitious and greedy are
successful. There are plenty of people of good character in government and in
the board rooms, just as there are plenty of greedy people who are poor or
justly imprisoned. So a desire to get ahead isn’t necessarily a bad thing or a
good thing. It’s really just a human instinct. Some of us have more of it, some
of us have less of it.
And so just as the
desire to get ahead isn’t necessarily good or bad, neither is contentment.
There are many spiritual people who are contented with where they are, and
being around them encourages us to move forward. But there are also many
contented people who aren’t spiritual at all. Being around them doesn’t inspire
us at all. We’re simply bored by them and their complete lack of interest in
anything beyond where they are.
III. Eὐσέβεια
and Aὐταρκείας
And so when we read 1
Timothy 6, we need to keep two contexts in mind. The first being that we might
not like where the writer was coming from if we get really specific about what
he was saying and to whom. But the second is that if we want to generalize
what’s being said here, then let’s not forget that we profit not from simple
contentment, but with the combination of what the New Testament calls εὐσέβεια
and αὐταρκείας—godliness combined with contentment in our translation.
Our translation is
indeed adequate. But it doesn’t tell the whole story. Godliness is a word that I think we might picture to associate too
much with outward behavior. Dana Carvey’s character the Church Lady is what I
picture in my own mind when I hear it. But the people who first heard it in
Greek probably weren’t led to look at outward behavior, but more at a person’s
inner response to God. Piety and godliness have gotten a bad rap in our day and
age—probably because we associate them too much with people who are
holier-than-thou.
And then there’s that
other word—the one we’re referring to as contentment. But we can almost see the
original meaning even if we don’t speak Greek. That’s because words that start
with auto- are common in our
language, and that auto- prefix
speaks to us of independence.
Something that’s automatic moves independently,
as does an automobile. Autonomy is
actually another word for independence. An autocrat
can rule independently—that is, without having to get permission from others.
And so the word we
read as contentment actually means self-sufficient. Just as εὐσέβεια looks
within, so does αὐταρκείας. It’s not talking about dependence on one’s self, as
though God weren’t part of the picture. Quite the opposite. It refers to the
spiritual reality of having Christ dwelling within.
And so to say that there is great gain in godliness combined
with contentment sounds like we’re talking about something we can measure
from the outside. But the word godliness really refers to our inner response to
God. And the word contentment is actually talking about looking within ourselves
to dependent upon the Spirit of God.
Conclusion: ‘The
Art of Divine Contentment’
A few years ago, I
talked about one of my favorite books in a sermon on this text. The book is
from the 1600’s and it was written by a minister named Thomas Watson. It’s
called The Art of Divine Contentment, and it addresses the subject in
just the way I’ve been talking about it: Godliness being not outward piety, but
our inner response to God; and contentment being our dependence on the
indwelling Spirit of God.
Though I’d like to
just spend the rest of this sermon quoting Thomas Watson to you (I think I
actually did do that the last time I preached on this text), I’ll just conclude
with one point he made that I think gets to the heart of the subject:
“Discontent,” said Watson, “is a spider that sucks the poison of unthankfulness
from the sweetest flower of God’s blessings, and by a devilish chemistry
extracts dross out of the most refined gold. The discontented person thinks
everything [they do] for God too much, and everything God [does] for [them] too
little.”
Gratitude gets at the
real meaning of both godliness and contentment. Both gratitude and ingratitude
are cumulative. They’re responses that seldom occur in isolation. Gratitude
creates more gratitude, but ingratitude creates more ingratitude. And so to
experience the great gain that occurs when godliness is combined with
contentment is to have an attitude of gratitude. For what is godliness, but an
inner feeling of gratitude toward God? And what is contentedness but a thankful
dependence on the Spirit of Christ dwelling within?
Sometimes I think
Christians in our place and time have it rough. We have to walk a tightrope
between not coming across as holier-than-thou, while having an inner attitude
of gratitude toward God. We need to be content with the Spirit of God within
us, even as we go for pay raises and promotions. It sounds difficult, but ours
isn’t the first generation of Christians that’s had to be both genuine and
pious, and both content and good providers.
What seems different
is that there are fewer and fewer people who even try to acknowledge God in
their lives. Yes, that can be challenging to be in the minority. But when you
think about it, it changes nothing in us—unless it’s to make us as individuals
and as a people more intentional about our religion, more thoughtful in our
gratitude.
Gratitude is the key.
We can always be thankful toward God, even as we question God. And the people
we are around need not be believers in order for us to show gratitude toward
them. Both gratitude and ingratitude are cumulative. Let’s be thankful toward
God, toward one another, and toward those around us, for, of course, there is great gain in godliness combined with contentment.
—©2016 Sam
L. Greening, Jr.