_THE COMPARATIVE VALUE OF BODILY EXERCISE AND OF GODLINESS._
"Exercise thyself unto godliness: for bodily exercise is profitable
for a little; but godliness is profitable for all things, having
promise of the life which now is, and of that which is to come"--1
TIM. iv. 7, 8.
It is almost impossible to decide what St. Paul here means by "bodily
exercise." Not that either the phrase or the passage in which it occurs
is either difficult or obscure. But the phrase may mean either of two
things, both of which make excellent sense in themselves, and both of
which fit the context.
At the beginning of this chapter the Apostle warns Timothy against
apostates who shall "give heed to seducing spirits and doctrines of
devils ... forbidding to marry and commanding to abstain from meats."
St. Paul has in his mind those moral teachers who made bodily
mortifications the road, not to self-discipline, but to self-effacement;
and who taught that such things were necessary, not because our bodies
are prone to evil, but because they exist at all. To have a body, they
held, was a degradation: and such a possession was a curse, a burden,
and a shame. Instead of believing, as every Christian must, that a human
body is a very sacred thing, to be jealously guarded from all that may
harm or pollute it, these philosophers held that it was worse than
worthless, fit for nothing but to be trampled upon and abused. That it
may be sanctified here and be glorified hereafter,--that it may be the
temple of God's Holy Spirit now and be admitted to share the blessedness
of Christ's ascended humanity in the world to come,--they could not and
would not believe. It must be made to feel its own vileness. It must be
checked, and thwarted, and tormented into subjection, until the blessed
time should come when death should release the unhappy soul that was
linked to it from its loathsome and intolerable companion.
It cannot, of course, for a moment be supposed that St. Paul would admit
that "bodily exercise" of this suicidal kind was "profitable" even "for
a little." On the contrary, as we have seen already, he condemns the
whole system in the very strongest terms. It is a blasphemy against
God's goodness and a libel on human nature. But some persons have
thought that the Apostle may be alluding to practices which, externally
at any rate, had much resemblance to the practices which he so
emphatically condemns. He may have in his mind those fasts, and vigils,
and other forms of bodily mortification, which within prudent limits and
when sanctified by humility and prayer, are a useful, if not a necessary
discipline for most of us. And it has been thought that Timothy himself
may have been going to unwise lengths in such ascetic practices: for in
this very letter we find his affectionate master charging him, "Be no
longer a drinker of water, but use a little wine for thy stomach's sake
and thine often infirmities."
This then is one possible meaning of the Apostle's words in the passage
before us. Discipline of the body by means of a severe rule of life is
profitable for something: but it is not everything. It is not even the
chief thing, or anything approaching to the chief thing. The chief thing
is godliness. To the value of bodily exercise of this kind there are
limits, and rather narrow limits: it "is profitable for _a little_." To
the value of godliness there are no limits: it is "profitable for _all_
things." Mortifications of the body may preserve us from sins of the
flesh: but they are no certain protection even against these. They are
no protection at all--sometimes they are the very reverse of
protection--against sins of self-complacency and spiritual pride.
Asceticism may exist without godliness; and godliness may exist without
asceticism. Bodily mortifications may be useful; but they may also be
harmful to both soul and body. Godliness must always be useful to both;
can never be harmful to either.
But it is quite possible to understand the expression "bodily exercise,"
in the sense in which the phrase is most commonly used in ordinary
conversation among ourselves. In the text which we are considering it
may mean that exercise of the body which we are accustomed to take, some
of us of necessity, because the work by which we earn our daily bread
involves a great deal of physical exertion; some of us for health's
sake, because our work involves a great deal of sitting still; some of
us for pleasure, because bodily exercise of various kinds is delightful
to us. This interpretation of the Apostle's statement, like the other
interpretation, makes good sense of itself and fits the context. And
whereas that was in harmony with the opening words of the chapter, this
fits the immediate context.
St. Paul has just said "Exercise thyself unto godliness." In using the
expression "Exercise thyself" (=gymnaze seauton=) he was of course
borrowing, as he so constantly does borrow, from the language which was
used respecting gymnastic contests in the public games. The Christian is
an athlete, who must train himself and exercise himself for a lifelong
contest. He has to wrestle and fight with the powers of evil, that he
may win a crown of glory that fadeth not away. How natural, then, that
the Apostle, having just spoken of spiritual exercise for the attainment
of godliness, should go on to glance at bodily exercise, in order to
point out the superiority of the one over the other. The figurative
would easily suggest the literal sense; and it is therefore quite lawful
to take the words "bodily exercise" in their most literal sense. Perhaps
we may go further and say, that this is just one of those cases in
which, because the literal meaning makes excellent sense, the literal
meaning is to be preferred. Let us then take St. Paul's words quite
literally and see what meaning they will yield.
"Bodily exercise is profitable for a little." It is by no means a
useless thing. In its proper place it has a real value. Taken in
moderation it tends to preserve health and increase strength. It may
sometimes be the means of gaining for ourselves and for the circle to
which we belong praise and distinction. It makes us more capable of
aiding ourselves and others in times of physical danger. It may even be
the means of enabling us to save life. By taking us out of ourselves and
turning our thoughts into new channels, it is an instrument of mental
refreshment, and enables us to return to the main business of our lives
with increased intellectual vigour. And beyond all this, if kept within
bounds, it has a real moral value. It sometimes keeps us out of mischief
by giving us innocent instead of harmful recreation. And bodily training
and practice, if loyally carried out, involve moral gains of another
kind. Dangerous appetites have to be kept in check, personal wishes have
to be sacrificed, good temper has to be cultivated, if success is to be
secured for ourselves or the side to which we belong. All this is
"profitable" in a very real degree. But the limits to all these good
results are evident; and they are somewhat narrow. They are confined to
this life, and for the most part to the lower side of it; and they are
by no means certain. Only indirectly does bodily exercise yield help to
the intellectual and spiritual parts of our nature; and as regards both
of them it may easily do more harm than good. Like excessive meat and
drink, it may brutalize instead of invigorating. Have we not all of us
seen men whose extravagant devotion to bodily exercise has extinguished
almost all intellectual interests, and apparently all spiritual
interests also?
But there are no such drawbacks to the exercise of godliness. "Godliness
is profitable for _all_ things, having promise" not only "of the life
which now is, but of that which is to come." Its value is not confined
to the things of this world, although it enriches and glorifies them
all. And, unlike bodily exercise, its good results are certain. There is
no possibility of excess. We may be unwise in our pursuit of godliness,
as in our pursuit of bodily strength and activity; but we cannot have
too much exercise in godliness, as we easily can in athletics. Indeed,
we cannot with any safety lay aside the one, as we not only can, but
must, frequently lay aside the other. And we need to bear this simple
truth in mind. Most of us are willing to admit that godliness is an
excellent thing for attaining to a peaceful death; but we show little
evidence that we are convinced of its being necessary for spending a
happy life. We look upon it as a very suitable thing for the weak, the
poor, the sickly, the sorrowful, and perhaps also for sentimental
persons who have plenty of leisure time at their disposal. We fail to
see that there is much need for it, or indeed much room for it, in the
lives of busy, capable, energetic, and practical men of the world. In
other words, we are not at all convinced of the truth of the Apostle's
words, that "Godliness is profitable for _all_ things," and we do not
act as if they had very much interest for us. They express a truth which
is only too likely to be crowded out of sight and out of mind in this
bustling age. Let us be as practical as our dispositions lead us and our
surroundings require us to be; but let us not forget that godliness is
really the most practical of all things. It lays hold on a man's whole
nature. It purifies his body, it illumines and sanctifies his intellect;
it braces his will. It penetrates into every department of life, whether
business or amusement, social intercourse or private meditation. Ask the
physicians, ask employers of labour, ask teachers in schools and
universities, ask statesmen and philosophers, what their experience
teaches them respecting the average merits of the virtuous and the
vicious. They will tell you that the godly person has the healthiest
body, is the most faithful servant, the most painstaking student, the
best citizen, the happiest man. A man who is formed, reformed, and
informed by religion will do far more effectual work in the world than
the same man without religion. He works with less friction, because his
care is cast upon his heavenly Father; and with more confidence, because
his trust is placed on One much more sure than himself. Moreover, in the
long run he is trusted and respected. Even those who not only abjure
religion in themselves, but ridicule it in others, cannot get rid of
their own experience. They find that the godly man can be depended upon,
where the merely clever man cannot; and they act in accordance with this
experience. Nor does the profitableness of godliness end with the
possession of blessings so inestimable as these. It holds out rich
promises respecting future happiness, and it gives an earnest and
guarantee for it. It gives a man the blessing of a good conscience,
which is one of our chief foretastes of the blessedness which awaits us
in the world to come.
Let us once for all get rid of the common, but false notion that there
is anything unpractical, anything weak or unmanly, in the life of
holiness to which Christ has called us, and of which He has given us an
example: and by the lives which we lead let us prove to others that this
vulgar notion _is_ a false one. Nothing has done more harm to the cause
of Christianity than the misconceptions which the world has formed as to
what Christianity is and what it involves. And these misconceptions are
largely caused by the unworthy lives which professing Christians lead.
And this unworthiness is of two kinds. There is first the utter
worldliness, and often the downright wickedness, of many who are not
only baptized Christians, but who habitually keep up some of the
external marks of an ordinary Christian life, such as going to church,
having family prayers, attending religious meetings, and the like. And
perhaps the worst form of this is that in which religion is made a
trade, and an appearance of godliness is assumed in order to make money
out of a reputation for sanctity. Secondly, there is the seriously
mistaken way in which many earnest persons set to work in order to
attain to true godliness. By their own course of life they lead people
to suppose that a religious life, the life of an earnest Christian, is a
dismal thing and an unpractical thing. They wear a depressed and joyless
look; they not only abstain from, but leave it to be supposed that they
condemn, many things which give zest and brightness to life, and which
the Gospel does not condemn. In their eagerness to show their conviction
as to the transcendent importance of spiritual matters, they exhibit a
carelessness and slovenliness in reference to the affairs of this life,
which is exceedingly trying to all those who have to work with them.
Thus they stand forward before the world as conspicuous evidence that
godliness is _not_ "profitable for all things." The world is only too
ready to take note of evidence which points to a conclusion so in
harmony with its own predilections. It is, and has been from the
beginning, prejudiced against religion; and its adherents are quick to
seize upon, and make the most of, anything which appears to justify
these prejudices. "In a world such as this," they say, "so full of care
and suffering, we cannot afford to part with anything which gives
brightness and refreshment to life. A religion which tells us to abjure
all these things, and live perpetually as if we were at the point of
death or face to face with the Day of Judgment, may be all very well for
monks and nuns, but is no religion for the mass of mankind. Moreover,
this is a busy age. Most of us have much to do; and, if we are to live
at all, what we have to do must be done quickly and thoroughly. That
means that we must give our minds to it; and a religion which tells us
that we must not give our minds to our business, but to other things
which it says are of far greater importance, is no religion for people
who have to make their way in the world and keep themselves and their
children from penury. We flatly refuse to accept a gospel which is so
manifestly out of harmony with the conditions of average human life."
This charge against Christianity is a very old one: we find it taken up
and answered in some of the earliest defences of the gospel which have
come down to us. The unhappy thing is, not that such charges should be
made, but that the lives of Christian men and women should prove that
there is at least a _primâ facie_ case for bringing such accusations.
The early Christians had to confront the charge that they were joyless,
useless members of society and unpatriotic citizens. They maintained
that, on the contrary, they were the happiest and most contented of men,
devoted to the well-being of others, and ready to die for their country.
They kept aloof from many things in which the heathen indulged, not
because they were pleasures, but because they were sinful. And there
were certain services which they could not, without grievous sin, render
to the State. In all lawful matters no men were more ready than they
were to be loyal and law-abiding citizens. In this, as in any other
matter of moral conduct, they were quite willing to be compared with
their accusers or any other class of men. On which side were to be found
those who were bright and peaceful in their lives, who cherished their
kindred, who took care of the stranger, who succoured their enemies, who
shrank not from death?
A practical appeal of this kind is found to be in the long run far more
telling than exposition and argument. It may be impossible to get men to
listen to, or take interest in, statements as to the principles and
requirements of the Christian religion. You may fail to convince them
that its precepts and demands are neither superstitious nor
unreasonable. But you can always show them what a life of godliness
really is;--that it is full of joyousness, and that its joys are neither
fitful nor uncertain; that it is no foe to what is bright and beautiful,
and is neither morose in itself nor apt to frown at lightheartedness in
others; that it does not interfere with the most strenuous attention to
business and the most capable despatch of it. Men refuse to listen to or
to be moved by words; but they cannot help noticing and being influenced
by facts which are all round them in their daily lives. So far as man
can judge, the number of vicious, mean, and unworthy lives is far in
excess of those which are pure and lofty. Each one of us can do
something towards throwing the balance the other way. We can prove to
all the world that godliness is not an unreality, and does not make
those who strive after it unreal; that it is hostile neither to
joyousness nor to capable activity; that, on the contrary, it enhances
the brightness of all that is really beautiful in life, while it raises
to a higher power all natural gifts and abilities; that the Apostle was
saying no more than the simple truth when he declared that it is
"profitable for all things."