2 Corinthians 2:12-3:6

2 Corinthians 2:12–3:6

Paul’s message brings life through the Spirit

(The Lutheran Study Bible, pages 1983–1984)

Notes

In Paul’s defense of his conduct to the Corinthians (see on 1:12) he has recapitulated various painful events that have occurred since he was last present with them—the affliction suffered in Asia (1:8–11), the decision not to come (back directly) to Corinth (2:1), and the writing of the letter, which he did out of great distress (2:4).

His “Now when I went to Troas” (2:12) is the next painful milestone on his apostolic journey (cf. 7:5—“For when we came to Macedonia, this body had no rest”), in which God leads him in triumphal procession (2:14).

Troas proved to be painful because Paul went there for gospel ministry and a “door” of opportunity was “open.” But he was so distressed because Titus had not arrived bringing news about the Corinthian response to the “Severe Letter” that he made his valedictory farewell and departed for Macedonia, his “plan B” rendezvous.

Intro to theme from 2:14-7:4

The passage that follows (2:14–7:4) is the longest coherent section within 2 Corinthians and is, arguably, the centerpiece of the entire letter. Nonetheless, it is not freestanding, but continuous with what precedes it. To this point Paul has offered an apologia for his conduct, both as to his motives (1:12–14) and to his actions (1:15–2:4). Some of this apologia is picked up1 in his defense of the ministry of the new covenant that follows.

In particular, however, it is the theme of his sufferings and God’s comfort in and deliverance from those sufferings (1:3–11) that is immediately reintroduced in the striking triumphal/antitriumphal metaphor in which God leads the apostle as conquered captive (2:14–16). This metaphor, with its paradoxical power-in-weakness elements, may have been chosen to answer to those who suggest that such sufferings somehow disqualify or invalidate his ministry.2 On this hypothesis, this metaphor, combining elements of both suffering and triumph and appearing as it does at the beginning3 of this defensive excursus, establishes its underlying theme of power in weakness (see on 4:8–5:10; 6:4–13).

Paul’s exposition, however, is not merely apologetic. A polemical element is quickly introduced, in which Paul contrasts his ministry with that of those “who peddle the word of God” (2:17–3:1—“not … as … but as … but as … as …”).

This contrast is then expanded and elaborated upon. Through Paul’s ministry the Spirit of the living God has been mediated to the Corinthians (3:3), as Paul had earlier reminded them (1:18–22). Paul is preparing the ground for his claim to be a God-enabled minister of the new covenant (3:6).

A line of thought appears to have been begun by the “letters of commendation” (3:1). This is picked up as “written in ink” (3:3), as such letters would have been. The immediately paralleled “written … in tables of stone” suggests a connection between the ink-written letters borne by the peddlers (2:17–3:1) and that ministry associated with “tablets of stone … the letter,” that is, the ministry of Moses.

By contrast, Paul’s ministry mediates “the Spirit of the living God” in “tablets of hearts of flesh,” making the Corinthians themselves Paul’s letter of commendation from Christ, known and read by all in Corinth (3:2–3).

This polemical contrast between Paul and the “peddlers” continues in the following contrasts between (1) the permanent and surpassing glory of the ministry of the Spirit and the transitory and inferior glory of the ministry of “the letter” (3:7–11), and (2) the unveiledness of those who turn to Christ and who see and are transformed into this ultimate glory of God and the veiledness to the glory of those who remain under the old covenant (3:12–18). With this passage (3:12–18) Paul introduces the theme of the hope of glory, which he will reintroduce later in 4:14, 14–5:10.

The apologetic-polemical line continues. Against the charge that his debility disqualifies his ministry as lacking glory, Paul asserts that in his pursuit of “this ministry” he has not lost heart, has not conducted himself improperly, and does not veil the gospel (from Jews?), but, to the contrary, as he proclaims the gospel that Jesus is Lord, he deflects the knowledge of the glory of God to others (4:1–6).

Nonetheless, returning to the theme of power in weakness, he acknowledges his own frailty and thereby his utter dependence on the power of God (4:7–8). Indeed, the bearer of the light of the gospel reproduces the dying and the life of the One from whom the glory passes into human hearts. He dies that the Corinthians may live (4:9–15). The death and resurrection of the proclaimed are replicated in the proclaimer.

The exposition of the theme of his power in weakness leads Paul into a brief statement about the universal experience of power in weakness through aging and death (4:16–5:10) in the epoch between the resurrection of Christ and the general resurrection and judgment (4:15; 5:10). The unseen future aeon is laden with glory, and death will not deprive the believer of his “house eternal in the heavens” (5:1). Nonetheless, while in the body he is not yet with the Lord, and he is burdened as he faces the nakedness of death, should that precede the onset of God’s future age (5:2–4).

This in turn lays the foundation for the climax of the entire passage, Paul’s exposition of the apostolic office of reconciliation. Doubtless, mindful of others who seek acceptance as ministers in Corinth, Paul declares that the Corinthians should take pride in his ministry, which he exercises in a right mind through which he seeks to persuade people to be reconciled to God. This is the day of God’s salvation: Christ has died and been raised for all, and God has given Paul the ministry and word of reconciliation (5:11–6:2).

That Paul’s pursuit of this ministry—which is exercised in great suffering—places no stumbling block before people (6:3–10) resumes the defensive theme. By inference the minister of God suffers and is misunderstood like the One whose ambassador he is. Nonetheless, weak though outwardly he is, he bears the power of God. This apologia for his ministry reaches its climax in Paul’s impassioned plea that the Corinthians as his children open wide their hearts to him and his ministry; his father’s heart is wide open to them (6:11–13).

A powerful exhortation now follows. Having reminded them that he is God’s mouthpiece calling on them to be reconciled to God and to be open to his ministry (5:20–6:2; 6:11–13), he demands that they separate themselves from the religious cults of Corinth (6:14–7:1).

The entire exposition concludes with a short summary, assuring them that he has wronged no one. Let the Corinthians make room in their hearts for him. Basing his judgment on the good news from Corinth brought by Titus, which is the subject of the next passage, Paul expresses great confidence in them (7:2–4).

The controlling theme throughout is Paul’s defense of his ministry in the new covenant; the vocabulary of ministry4 appears frequently within these chapters. Nonetheless, it must be made clear that the subject is not ministry per se, but Paul’s ministry. As such, the ministry of the new covenant is an eschatological ministry. The theme of God’s time having come, in fulfillment of (1:20)—yet discontinuous with (3:6)—the old covenant, is powerfully stated (see 3:3; 5:14–6:2). History is now split into “no longer” and “now” aeons. Paul is claiming nothing less than to be the mouthpiece and yokefellow of God, heralding the long-awaited, newly arrived new covenant (see on 5:20; 6:1; 4:5). The now-illuminated—but formerly darkened—heart of the apostle is the source of light for the blind (4:6).

At the moment of eschatological fulfillment God has reconciled the world to himself. God has also given the ministry of reconciliation, or entrusted the word of reconciliation to the apostles (5:18–19). The climax of the passage is Paul’s call to the Corinthians, “Be reconciled to God … wide[n] your hearts [to us]” (5:20; 6:11–13). This call is followed immediately by his impassioned exhortation to separate themselves from the Gentile cults (6:14–7:1).

In his presentation of himself as a minister of the new covenant, Paul employs the rich vocabulary of Isaiah 40–66 for the restoration of exiled Israel. Indeed, Paul portrays his relationships with the Corinthians in terms analogous to the relationships of the Isaianic Servant of the Lord with captive Israel (see on 5:20; 6:1).5 Paul sees himself as the ambassador-delegate of Christ, his apostle (5:20; cf. 1:1; 12:12), and—by analogy with the Isaianic Servant—the spokesman of God, in this the “day of [God’s] salvation” (6:2). Hence the new covenant, the “now”-fulfilled eschatology, and Paul’s apostleship are inextricably connected.

For this reason Paul generally employs the first person “we”/“us” throughout this lengthy defense of his apostolic office.6 This is what we may call “the apostolic plural.” By “we”/“us” Paul is not referring to himself and Timothy, the cowriter (1:1), nor even to himself, Silvanus, and Timothy, heralds of the gospel in Corinth (1:19), but to Paul as apostle. In this regard we should note the several places where Paul addresses his readers as “you.”7 Thus, implicit throughout this extended passage is Paul over against the Corinthian church. Paul’s “we”/“us” does not ordinarily include them;8 rather, by using this plural pronoun of himself as Christ’s apostle, he addresses them, the church of God in that place.

These characteristics give this passage a special place within Paul’s writings, as a number of scholars have observed. W. H. Bates called it “the most intricate and profound exposition of Paul’s apostolic ministry to be found anywhere in his letters,”9 and G. Bornkamm regarded it as “the great apology of the apostolic office.”10

What, then, gave rise to this important exposition? Broadly, three views have been held. One is that Paul’s defense is conditioned by objections to his apostleship that have been raised by newly arrived intruders, whoever they are deemed to be—Judaizers, “divine men,” or gnostics. Another view is that Paul is responding to breaches—some of them of long-standing—between the Corinthians and him. On this view the intruders hypothesis has been overstated; Paul is seeking the Corinthians’ reconciliation with himself chiefly as a prerequisite to their proper reconciliation with God (6:11–13; 5:20).11 A further opinion is that Paul’s teaching—especially 2:14–3:18—is unconditioned by specific concerns, but is a general statement of his ministry.12

In my view the apologetic and polemical elements in this section arise both from local and newly arrived sources. Those apologetic and polemical elements are reflected in (1) Paul’s recognition of his own physical deficiencies,13 along with his assertion of perseverance in spite of them (2:14; 4:1, 7–5:10; 6:3–10); as a sufferer he replicates, as he spreads, the knowledge of the glory of the Sufferer, the Crucified; (2) his denial that he is self-commended (3:1; 4:2; 5:12; 6:4; 7:11); (3) his assertions—direct and oblique—of the insincerity of “many who peddle the word of God” (2:17; 4:2); and (4) his admonition to those who remain enmeshed in the cults of Corinth to “come out from them and be separate” (6:14–7:1).

Two obstacles stand in the way of clear identification of Paul’s critics and opponents in this passage. One is that Paul’s remarks are so fragmentary as to make precision difficult. Second, there is little from the Corinthian side, apart from phrases where Paul appears to be quoting their words (e.g., 10:10, which is from a later part of the letter), and even these stand within Paul’s text, not theirs. The second is that Paul here chooses to allow the present situation to give him the opportunity to make broader theological statements that transcend—and therefore, to a degree, mask—the original situation.14

Mindful of these inherent limitations, the following suggestions are offered as to the criticisms and opposition Paul may have been addressing at that time.

First, Paul stood criticized for inadequacy in ministry. This criticism, which was along superspiritual lines.15 Paul appears to have addressed in the preceding major section of the letter (1:1–2:13; see especially 1:12, 17; cf. 10:2–7). In that section Paul does not deny or even play down his personal difficulties in the period since the unsuccessful second visit. Is this because Paul wished not only to defend himself from misunderstanding and misinformation but also to lay a foundation for the theology of glory in suffering—both of the minister of God and of the people of God, based on the glory of the Crucified—in this and later sections of the letter? Thus, so much of what he now writes—his use of the captive image (2:14–16), his argument for God-given competency in ministry (2:16; 3:5–6), his admission as one who is subject to aging and death (4:8–12, 16–5:10) to being a mere “jar of clay” (4:7), in whom, nonetheless, may be seen great endurance (6:4) in the face of adversity (6:3–10) as the the sign of the new aeon and the mark of true apostleship (12:12)—follows directly as an expansion upon the sufferings mentioned in the preceding passage (1:1–2:13). Just as suffering and the mind of the servant were fundamental to Jesus (cf. 5:21; 8:9; 10:1), so, too, suffering and serving were fundamental to his true minister—as opposed to the false apostle (1:24; 4:5; cf. 11:13, 23).

Second, Paul was responding to the intruders’ (probable) claim that there was but one covenant and Jesus belonged within that still-effective covenant of the still-glorious Moses.16 In their view Peter had come earlier to Corinth, establishing this very point, and they were continuing his work (see on 10:13–15). From their perspective Paul was promoting a schism by Jews (and Gentiles?) from the historic people of God, the evidence for which was his failure to promote “righteousness” in acceptable terms. Such a scenario would make sense of Paul’s reference to those who bring letters of commendation and who peddle the word of God (2:17–3:1), which is followed immediately by his dramatic dismissal of the old covenant as having been abolished and therefore obsolete (3:7–15) in light of the eschatologically fulfilling arrival of the new covenant of righteousness and the Spirit (3:3–9, 18). Moreover, it would go some distance to explain Paul’s exposition of Christ’s death as universally applicable—that is, not merely for the people of Israel—as the means of reconciliation with God (5:14–21). It is from these newly arrived, letter-commended ministers, apparently, that the telling complaint was made that Paul was merely self-commended (see on 3:1).17

Third, Paul was acutely sensitive to the failure of certain Gentile elements within the community of believers to separate themselves from the cultic life of the community of unbelievers (6:14–7:1; cf. 1 Cor 8–10 passim). It is quite likely that the intractable involvement in sexually promiscuous behavior was connected with the local cults (see on 12:20–13:2). The obduracy of particular Corinthians in such matters was, of course, deeply offensive to Paul. Beyond that, Paul’s critics—whether local or newly arrived—could point to such ongoing idolatry (and immorality?) as proof-positive of Paul’s incompetence and indeed inauthenticity as an apostle.

Such may have been the painful issues Paul felt driven to address; though—we repeat—our reconstructions are of necessity conjectural.

Whatever the truth about the currents of thought in Corinth at the time—and we are unlikely ever to know them with confidence—Paul appears to have constructed this powerful defense as a statement in its own right. Its applicability is not finally dependent upon our ability to reconstruct the historical situation. As in the First Letter, Paul appears to have allowed the problems of the moment to stimulate a Spirit-led response of breadth and depth that profoundly transcends the immediate and now long-forgotten circumstances in Corinth, providing believers and churches from every generation with godly instruction and inspiration.

What, then, is the abiding significance of Paul’s exposition? In sum, three matters arise from our text.

First, in Christ God has eschatologically divided history. There is a new covenant and a new creation (3:6; 5:17), both of which were anticipated in the prophetic aeon (Jer 31:31–34; Isa 43:18–19; 65:17). The net result of being under the old covenant was condemnation and death; under the new there is righteousness, reconciliation with God, freedom, and spiritual transformation. Under the existing order of creation there is decay and death; under the new there is the hope of the permanent glory of God (3:12), that is, of ultimate re-creation (3:18; 4:16–18).

Because all will be raised from the dead (4:14) and judged (5:10), Paul pursues his ministry with great seriousness (5:11). Meanwhile all have the Spirit (5:5), who inspires longing for the onset of the coming age (5:2–4). Clearly there are great benefits to those who align themselves with God’s saving purposes in Christ. Paul’s exhortation to his original readers in light of the eschatological moment that has now come (6:1–2)—“be reconciled to God”—still stands.

In consequence—and this is the second teaching of continuing significance—Paul’s ministry should be seen as eschatologically unique and therefore unrepeatable. It stood right next to the history-splitting, universally applicable (5:14–17), reconciling death and resurrection of Christ (5:18–19). Paul was God’s chosen pioneer in a God-given diaconate to the Gentiles. God’s provision of the diaconate and the word of reconciliation were integrally connected with that reconciling event at the first Easter.

Because of God’s call to him to be an apostle, Paul was the bringer of light (4:6), the very mouth of God and the yokefellow of God in his ministry to the churches at the turning of the aeons (5:20–6:2). As such, Paul’s boldly uttered words (3:12) were God’s revelation to a church like Corinth (4:2), just as Isaiah the prophet’s words had been to captive Israel under the epoch of the old covenant. The signs, wonders, and miracles wrought in patient endurance by Paul marked him out as an apostle of Christ in the face of the self-proclaimed apostles who had recently come to Corinth (12:12; 11:13–15).

In other words, this defensive excursus serves to undergird the authority of Paul, through his words spoken and written, as Christ’s apostle to the Gentiles, then and now (cf. 10:8; 13:10). Paul was and remains the mouth of God (cf. 5:20), one to whom the churches, in obedience to God, must submit. Resistance to that was and remains the “Corinthian” problem.

Third, Paul’s ministry stands as a model for the ministry of other missionaries and pastors who would come after him throughout history down to the present time. To be sure, in some respects—as we have noted above—Paul was unique as the instrument of God’s revelation; his signs, wonders, and miracles wrought in patient endurance were evidence of that uniqueness. Nonetheless, Paul’s fidelity to God’s circumscribed, “given” word, the gospel, his exaltation of Christ, his demands for holiness, his obediently transparent lifestyle, and his embodiment of Christ’s own sacrifice in his service of the churches—in the face of their fickleness, even perfidiousness—provide a paradigm for ministers in every generation and in every culture. As such, 2 Cor 2:14–7:4 may be included with Paul’s other “pastoral letters” in their applicability to ministers of the gospel.

VV 14-17

This passage is very important within the structure of the letter. As noted earlier,1 there is a significant continuity with the preceding section. At the same time the thanksgiving with which it opens may be seen as a second beginning to the letter, parallel with the initial benediction.2 The passage bears an important relation to the subsection 2:14–4:6, in particular to 4:1–6. There is significant repetition of vocabulary and ideas between 2:14–17 and 4:1–6,3 so that those passages “frame” the subsection.

The opening metaphor is a complex combination of a victory procession (v. 14) and the impact of fragrance and aroma on God and people (vv. 15–16). As God leads Paul in his victory procession through Paul’s preaching and life, the apostle spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of Christ wherever he goes (v. 14). Yet, the bearer of this fragrance to people suffers in the course of his apostleship, whether in Ephesus or Troas. Hence Paul sees himself—in continuity with “the sufferings of Christ”7—as the aroma of an acceptable sacrifice ascending to God (v. 15a).

The paradoxical nature of the metaphor may be conditioned by the circumstances then prevailing in Corinth. The arrival of the “peddlers” (v. 17) may have cast Paul in a different light in the eyes of the Corinthians, at least so it appears to Paul. Paul’s word to characterize their self-presentation is hyper, “above,” “superior.” He calls them “superlative” (hyperlian) apostles and is sensitive to the inference that he is, thereby, “inferior” (11:5; 12:11). They are, indeed, triumphalists, whose “boasting” of superiority has forced Paul to the “foolishness” of “boasting”—in his case, by contrast, in his “weaknesses” (see on 11:1–12:13). His catalogue of privations and suffering in ministry in the “Fool’s Speech” proper (11:23–12:10; see also 4:7–12; 6:3–10) serves as commentary on the antitriumphalist element in the victory parade metaphor.

This triumphal yet antitriumphal image points to Paul’s effectiveness in ministry (see also on 10:3–6). As God leads Paul in triumphal parade, his hearers are divided into those who are being saved and those who are perishing (v. 15b, c). For some Paul is the fragrance of death (v. 16a), to others of life (v. 16b), depending on their response to the apostolic message of the death and resurrection of Christ. Their response to Paul confirms them either in death (those who are perishing) or life (those who are being saved), causing him to cry, “Who is equal to such a task?” (v. 16c).

THE TRIUMPH

The highest honor that the senate could confer upon a successful commander was a triumph—a triumphal procession through the capital.1 The commander wrote to the senate detailing his achievements. If his victories were over “worthy enemies,” if at least five thousand of them had been slain in a single battle, if he had brought his own troops safely home (their presence was required to show that the war had indeed been won), and if he was himself a magistrate with imperium (the authority to raise and command troops), he might be granted his desire.2 It was an exceptional honor and the one occasion on which a commander could legitimately parade his troops through the streets of Rome. It displayed the splendor of Rome’s military might, but at a cost in human lives. The scale of Roman slaughter is reflected in the awarding of over seventy triumphs in the two hundred years from 252 BCE to 53 BCE.3

In classical times the procession began at the Campus Martius (the Field of Mars), the traditional mustering site for the army at the beginning of a campaign. From there it passed through the Porta Triumphalis (the Triumphal Arch), the Circus Flaminius, and the Circus Maximus. Then it rounded the Palatine and proceeded along the Via Sacra to the temple of Jupiter on the Capitol.4 Here a ceremony of thanksgiving was followed by the distribution of largess to the army and the people.5 At the head of the procession came the magistrates and senators, wearing full ceremonial regalia and accompanied by trumpeters. Then followed the spoils of war, carried on the backs of men or in wagons, in order to be displayed to their best effect (and competitively enumerated in the public records): “golden crowns weighing 112 [Roman] pounds; 83,000 pounds of silver; 243 pounds of gold; 118 Athenian tetradrachmae; 12,322 coins called Philippics; 785 bronze statues; 230 marble statues; a great amount of armour, weapons and other enemy spoils, besides catapults, ballistae and engines of every kind.”6

Painted battle scenes, captured standards, models of fortresses that had been breached or ships that had been sunk, and slogans such as Caesar’s “I came, I saw, I conquered” might be paraded before the crowd to demonstrate the scale of the victory and the distinction of the triumphator. Musicians accompanied this part of the procession, and after them came the prisoners of war, at least a token number of them, some of whom would be executed as soon as the procession reached the Capitol. The remainder of the prisoners were sold as slaves.

Next came the priests and their attendants, carrying censors of burning incense and bringing with them white bulls, adorned with garlands and gilded horns (and given drugs in their last feed to keep them docile) for the sacrifice to Jupiter. Finally, escorted by his lictores (who carried, each on his left shoulder, the fasces, the bundles of rods that were their badge of office), came the triumphator himself. He stood erect in a chariot of ebony and silver, hung beneath with a phallic symbol and drawn by four white horses. His face and hands were daubed with red, reflecting the terra-cotta statue of Capitoline Jupiter himself, made long ago by an Etruscan sculptor. Like Jupiter, he was clothed in a purple cloak thrown over a toga sown with golden stars. In one hand he carried a scepter surmounted by an eagle, and in the other a laurel branch. Above his head a slave held the golden wreath of the god and intoned the words “Look behind you and remember that you are but a man.” The soldiers were behind him, bringing up the rear. Because they were permitted on this one day to say whatever came to mind, they mingled their repeated cry of “Hurrah, triumph!”7 with ribald songs and derisive comments aimed at their commander. But for all that, the triumph elevated the commander to a regal, if not a divine, status and dramatized the splendor of his conquests.

It is unlikely that Paul ever witnessed a Roman triumph, but he certainly knew what they were and appears to have known what they entailed. Twice in his letters he uses the verb “to triumph over or to lead in triumph.”8 It occurs first in 2 Cor 2:14. Commentators disagree about how the image is applied,9 but it appears that Christ is the triumphator,10 processing, as it were, across the world with the apostles in his train, not as captives (as some suggest) exposed to public shame but as participants in Christ’s victory, sharing in his triumph. Specifically, it portrays the apostles as the priests, whose censors waft the fragrance11 of incense throughout the crowd. Paul likens this fragrance to the knowledge of Christ, which God was making known in every place through the apostles. In verse 15 there is a shift in the application of the metaphor. The apostles themselves become “the sweet smell”12 of Christ (as though Christ were now the incense—Paul is thinking of the apostles as witnesses to Christ), a fragrance, he says, that is offered as their service to God. Their witness is borne both “among those who are being saved and among the perishing.” To those who shared in the victory of a victorious general, the incense of the procession had an association with his triumph, whereas to the prisoners, its association was with their own imminent death. Thus the preaching of Christ comes to some as “a fragrance from death to death” and to others as “a fragrance from life to life”13 (v. 16). There are different responses to the apostolic testimony—some positive, some negative.

The verb “to lead in triumph” occurs again in Col 2:15, but here it is “the sovereignties and authorities”14 who are marching in Christ’s train. This verse raises a number of questions. Who, for example, are “the sovereignties and authorities”? In Eph 6:12 they are “the spiritual things of evil in the heavenly sphere,” and that identification has been carried over to this verse. But in Col 2:10 they are referred to in more positive terms as being subject to Christ. (The use of the definite article in v. 15, “the sovereignties,” etc., suggests that the reference is to the sovereignties and powers introduced in v. 10.) Perhaps they are angelic beings, specifically those who in Jewish thought had mediated the law.15 Although the law in itself is “holy and righteous and good” (Rom 7:12), it becomes “bad news” to sinners because of their sin. It becomes “the document that stands against us”—in effect, a catalog of our sins and therefore a written acknowledgment of our failure as far as God is concerned (Col 2:14).16 The angels unwittingly did us a disservice by introducing the law. But they have now been “disarmed,”17 Paul apparently coining his own verb to express how thoroughly this has been done. But what are we to make of the middle voice of this verb? Some understand it to be reflexive: Christ stripped himself (of “the powers of evil, which had clung like a Nessus robe about his humanity”18). But the middle voice need only express an interest in the action, not necessarily that the action is done to oneself. Thus the verb might be understood as Christ stripping others in an action in which he had a personal interest. Christ disarms the mediators of the law in the sense that the law no longer condemns, and so (in the imagery of the triumph) makes a “show”19 of them by leading them as captives in his triumphal procession.

One more question remains. Who is the subject of verse 15? Grammatically it is the implied subject of verse 13, namely, God. On this basis the phrase at the end of the sentence refers to Christ: “God has disarmed the sovereignties and authorities … in him.” But the sentence is a long one, and Paul has probably lost its grammatical thread, finishing with Christ in his mind as the subject. In this event the phrase refers to the cross: “Christ has disarmed the sovereignties and authorities … in it” (the Greek pronoun is ambiguous; it could be “it,” i.e., the cross, or “him”20). In this understanding, Paul has given the metaphor a paradoxical twist. Instead of the state chariot of the Roman procession, Christ has ridden to his triumph on “a rough wooden cross.” And perhaps there is irony as well as paradox in the verse, for Christ himself had been stripped and put on public display and the powers that be had seemingly triumphed. But from that shame had come glory. The convict’s gibbet had become the “chariot” of the victor.

As the triumphal procession ascended the slopes of the Capitol to the temple of Jupiter, some of the prisoners were taken aside into the Tullianum, the prison that stood in the lap of the Arx, the more northern of the two humps of the Capitol hill, and were put to death (a survival of the ancient rite of human sacrifice as a thank offering to the gods), originally by the ax and later by strangulation and occasionally by being thrown into a pit to die a slow death. Other prisoners might be condemned to the arena to fight unarmed, as bestiarii, against wild beasts. Condemned criminals commonly suffered this fate as well. The spectacle of men and sometimes women dying often served as the grand finale of the events that were frequently staged in the arenas of Rome and to a lesser extent in cities elsewhere.21 Paul may have had some such finale in mind (whether of a triumph or of some other event) in 1 Cor 4:8–9, when he declared that God had displayed22 the apostles “last of all, like those who are doomed to die.”23 Moffatt puts it this way: “God means us apostles to come in at the very end like doomed gladiators in the arena.” To the church in Corinth (or at least its leaders), Christianity was about privilege and pride and flaunting their gifts in public.24 Paul describes them ironically as “kings.” But to himself and his colleagues, Christianity was about service, often rendered at great personal cost.

1 The triumph was Etruscan in origin. To begin with, it was simply the king’s return from a victorious campaign with his army and his thanksgiving to the god of the state. It thus had both a military and a religious aspect. The Etruscan kings of the sixth century BCE developed it into a spectacular ceremony, which passed from them in this form to the Romans. See H. H. Scullard, Festivals and Ceremonies of the Roman Republic (London: Thames & Hudson, 1981), 213.

2 See esp. Valerius Maximus, Memor. 2.8. There was a law forbidding generals to exaggerate the number of enemy killed. On entering Rome, triumphant generals had to swear to the truth of their reports. The rules governing triumphs were, however, gradually relaxed to admit promagistrates (by the first century even privati with special imperia, like Pompey, and after 45 BCE legati) and to allow a mere token presence of the army. But there was always room for intrigue and favor in their interpretation. In the event of a triumph being disallowed, or not even requested, a lesser procession, an ovatio, might be granted. This was generally the case if the engagement had been a civil or slave uprising, from which there was no booty to be displayed. It consisted of a procession along the same route as the triumph; the general, however, did not ride in the antique triumphal chariot, did not paint his face, and did not wear triumphal garb. No trumpets sounded, only the less martial tweeting of flutes, and rather than a bull, Jupiter received only a sheep as his offering (see Gellius, Noct. Att. 5.6.21, and Scullard, Festivals, 217–18). An unofficial triumph might be held outside Rome on the Alban Mount at the triumphator’s own expense. Under the empire, triumphs soon became a monopoly of the emperor or his family, and the triumphal costume an official imperial dress (see Velleius, Rom. Hist. 2.40.1; Dio Cassius, Rom. Hist. 54.4; Plutarch, Caes. 61.3; and R. Brilliant, Gesture and Rank, 177). For further details, see H. S. Versnel, Triumphus: An Inquiry into the Origin, Development, and Meaning of the Roman Triumph (Leiden: Brill, 1970).

3 See K. Hopkins, Conquerors and Slaves (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1978), 26. Scullard (Festivals, 212) puts the number for approximately the same period at about 100, whereas P. Marshall (“A Metaphor of Social Shame: ΘΡΙΑΜΒΕΥΕΙΝ in 2 Cor. 2:14,” NovT 25 [1983]: 304) finds that “approximately 350 triumphs are recorded in [Greek and Roman] literature,” but he does not make clear whether they include more than one reference to the same event and unofficial as well as official triumphs. Nor does he indicate over what period this number was accumulated.

6 These are Roman pounds, weight equal to about seven-tenths of a pound weight in our terms. Livy, Hist. 39.5; cf. 34.52; 37.46; 45.35ff. The most extravagant of all Roman triumphs was that granted to Aemilius Paulus for his victory over Perseus of Macedonia in 168 BCE. Three days were given over to the procession so that the immense booty plundered from the Greek temples could be exhibited to the admiring populace. Two hundred carts were needed just to carry the priceless pictures and statues. On the second day the captured arms were paraded, together with seven hundred great casks filled with silver coins. The high point was reached on the third day, when the triumphator himself appeared, surrounded by the most valuable items of the booty.

Now the great casks were filled not with silver, but with the purest gold. The most brilliant amongst the many beautiful works in gold and silver was a great chalice, made from ten talents of gold and studded with precious stones; there was even the gold dinner service and the royal diadem of Perseus, the Macedonian prince. He and his children were paraded before the Romans as the most valuable of all the human booty. The number of sacrificial animals [permitted for a triumph] was raised to 120 and the number of gold victory wreaths to 400, gifts from the cities of Greece and Asia Minor. (Plutarch, Aem. 32)

9 There are, broadly, three interpretations of Paul’s use of θριαμβεύω in this passage. (1) To put someone on show or display. This is the view, e.g., of R. P. Egan, who rejects any association of θριαμβεύω with the Roman triumph and argues that it simply expresses “the idea of openness and visibility on the part of Paul” (“Lexical Evidence on Two Pauline Passages,” NovT 19 [1977]: 34–62). (2) To lead someone captive in a triumphal procession. This sense has the best lexical support and the support of many modern scholars. This notion has also been enlisted to explain Paul’s unique description of himself in Phlm 1, 9 as δέσμιος Χριστοῦ Ἰησοῦ “[the] prisoner of Christ Jesus” (e.g., E. Lohse, Colossians and Philemon [Philadelphia: Fortress, 1971], 189). The difficulty of this interpretation, however, whether applied to Phlm or 2 Cor, is in how the procession ended. The prisoners, at best, became slaves, but some of them died. A new twist to this interpretation has been given in a recent study by P. B. Duff, who supposes that Paul is here setting out to answer his detractors at Corinth. On the face of it, says Duff, Paul seems to have been playing into their hands by describing himself as God’s prisoner being led to destruction, but, in fact, he has reinterpreted the metaphor in terms of a religious rite, so that “he is a participant not in a military parade but in an epiphany procession. He has been captured, not as a prisoner of war, but as the devotee of the deity” (“Metaphor, Motif, and Meaning: The Rhetorical Strategy behind the Image ‘Led in Triumph’ in 2 Corinthians 2:14,” CBQ 53 [1991]: 79–92). This interpretation, however, seems somewhat strained. (3) A better explanation is suggested by the context. Paul is exultant at the news that he has won the day at Corinth and, in that mood, has introduced his metaphor of triumph. He will go on, certainly, to speak of the downside of his ministry, but for the moment, he is “up” and his metaphor reflects his elation. So Paul’s use of θριαμβεύω in 2 Cor 2:14 probably means to lead someone on the side of the victor in a triumphal procession. This does not have clear lexical support elsewhere, but it does fit the context, and we must allow to Paul the possibility of some originality.

21 As a rule, combats with wild beasts do not appear to have been common outside of Rome, at least in the eastern provinces, in the early empire. Where Greek culture prevailed, Greek games were more in vogue than the bloody “sports” of the Romans. Corinth, however, was one exception to this rule, reflecting perhaps the Italian cultural influences of the refounded city’s first settlers. Here “the populace delighted to watch gladiators in deadly combat, after a matinee at which condemned criminals had been set to fight with wild beasts in the arena” (J. Moffatt, The First Epistle of Paul to the Corinthians [London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1938], xviii; cf. Dio Chrysostom, Disc. 31.121). In time, neither the theater in Corinth nor the smaller Odeon nearby were able to cater for the demand for such “sports,” and in the third century CE a large amphitheater (larger than the Colosseum) was constructed a little over half a mile northeast of the city center exclusively for this purpose. Corinth’s obsession with blood sports persisted through the fourth century CE. Julian the Apostate wrote that bears and panthers were still hunted in the arena and that the city had appropriated tax money from Argos to pay for the hunts (Ep. 28). The Athenians appear to have been of like mind with the Corinthians in this regard. Indeed, Dio Chrysostom (Disc. 31.121) speaks of the Athenians as surpassing the Corinthians and all others in their mad infatuation with gladiatorial displays, which were held in the theater at the foot of the Acropolis. He does not say, however, whether these included bestiarii. On the gradual spread of Roman culture eastward, including wild beast shows (normally linked with the imperial cult), see P. Garnsey and R. Saller, The Roman Empire (London: Gerald Duckworth, 1987), 190; and C. Wells, The Roman Empire (London: Harper-Collins, 1992), 250–51. David J. Williams, Paul’s Metaphors: Their Context and Character (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 1999), 257–260.

It is, indeed, the triumph of God, here accentuated by the universals “always … in every place”; if Paul triumphs, it is not of himself but only of God, and that through weakness. There is paradox here, as implied by the metaphor “lead [captive] in triumph,” which points at the same moment to the victory of a conquering general and the humiliation of his captives marching to execution. The metaphor is at the same time triumphal and antitriumphal. It is as God leads his servants as prisoners of war in a victory parade that God spreads the knowledge of Christ everywhere through them. Whereas in such victory processions the prisoners would be dejected and embittered, from this captive’s lips comes only thanksgiving to God, his captor. Here is restated the power-in-weakness theme (cf. 1:3–11) that pervades the letter.19

It is quite possible that Paul’s use of the “triumph” metaphor is calculated to answer those Corinthians who, we infer, regard him as physically and spiritually debilitated (10:3–4, 7, 10; 13:3). To be sure, his ministry is marked by suffering, but so far from that disqualifying him as a minister, God’s leading him in Christ as a suffering servant thereby legitimates his ministry. Christ’s humiliation in crucifixion is reproduced in the life of his servant. All that he endures as a preacher is in continuity with the crucified Christ he preaches (5:21; cf. 6:4–10). There is no hiatus between the sufferings of Christ and the sufferings of the apostle in a world blinded to God and alienated from God (4:4; 5:18–20). The “sufferings of Christ” do indeed flow over into the apostle’s life (1:5). His “weaknesses” are “on behalf of” Christ (12:10). It is “for Jesus’ sake” that he is their “slave” (4:5), that he is continually being given over to death (4:11).

The image of the captive-slave in a military procession is critical both to the sovereignty of God and to his servants’ sufferings “in Christ” as they proclaim him; it is “in Christ” that God leads him.

The proclamation of Christ is like a strong fragrance, unseen but yet powerful, impinging on all who encounter Paul in his sufferings as he preaches Christ wherever he goes.25 In the victory parade metaphor of this verse, the apostle is God’s captive, whom God leads about spreading the knowledge of Christ—incense-like—by means of the proclamation of Christ.

How is Paul able confidently to attribute such negative motives to these men, while expecting his own claim “of sincerity”50 to be accepted? It appears that he is appealing to the known fact that these men have received some material benefit from the Corinthians (cf. 11:20), whereas Paul deliberately refused payment from them (11:7–12; 12:13–16). It is sufficient to apply the verb “peddle”51 to them—a pejorative word implying adulterating a product for improper gains—and “sincerity” to himself to signal that the whole subject of financial benefit is being raised, even though the Corinthians may not accept his view of things (4:2; 7:2; 12:17–18).

What Paul “speak[s]”—and the newcomers “adulterate”—is “the word of God,”52 the “word of reconciliation” (5:19), which is synonymous with the “gospel”53 of Christ crucified, God’s message of “good news” for the world, which God has entrusted to Paul (cf. 5:18). That this “word” is able to be “adulterated” by others (cf. 4:2) implies its existence in a standard, pure form (cf. Rom 6:17; 2 Tim 1:13), which Paul claims to declare in its purity. A “pure” gospel makes possible “sincere and pure devotion to Christ” (cf. 11:2–4). The objectively measurable character—the “thatness”—of the “word of God/the gospel” is implied in the important formulalike statement recorded in the First Letter.54

Within the second part of the sentence Paul gives a valuable summary of his ministry, which, brief as it is, has overtones of the Damascus Road call. This segment—indeed the whole sentence—is controlled by the verb “we speak.”55 This speaking is characterized by four qualities that are true of Paul but, by implication, not of the “peddlers.” (1) Paul speaks “with sincerity”56 from pure motives, as we have already noted. (2) He speaks “as from God”;57 what he says originates with God. As he will say later, “God gave us the ministry of reconciliation … [God] committed to us the word of reconciliation” (5:18–19). The “word” spoken by Paul was given to him by God, as at his Damascus road call (cf. Gal 1:15–17). (3) He speaks the word, “before God,” “in the presence of God,”58 mindful that the all-knowing God hears what he speaks in his name and will hold him accountable on the day of judgment (4:2; 5:10; 12:19). (4) That Paul speaks “in Christ”59 also points back to his incorporation “in Christ” as at the Damascus event (5:17; cf. Acts 9:18; 22:16); his present speaking flows from that unique event (cf. 4:13–14).

This verse is linked with the passages on either side.60 In regard to what has preceded, those preachers “who peddle the word of God” stand in contrast with Paul, who went to Troas “for the gospel of Christ,” whom God “leads in triumphal procession,” and through whom God “spreads everywhere” the “knowledge of [Christ]” (2:12, 14). On the other hand, “the many [who] peddl[e] the word of God” of this verse is repeated in the next as “some … who need letters of recommendation.”

While Paul’s words represent an apologetic for his apostolate then, they have application for the pastorate now. To be sure, there are differences. The origin in God of Paul’s Damascus call, when he saw the risen and glorified Lord uniquely, conferred on him the office of apostle and revelator (see on 4:6). Nonetheless, in this verse Paul sets certain standards for missionaries and ministers who come after him in succeeding generations. There is a givenness, a thatness, to the word of God that must not be reduced or distorted. All ministers must be as committed to the canon of the gospel as Paul was. That this verbal message is the word of God demands that those who speak it incarnate the integrity of God in their lives, mindful that they do so in the sight of the God before whose tribunal they must stand (see on 5:10). And, like Paul, they speak out of the fullness of a relationship with Christ, that is, as those “in Christ.”

3:1-3

Mindful of the “peddlers,” their jibes against Paul, and their own mode of achieving acceptance in Corinth, Paul asks rhetorically—expecting negative replies—is he commending himself again or needing letters of recommendation to the Corinthians? On the contrary, they are his letter in Corinth, resulting from his ministry, written on their hearts by the Spirit of God, not on stone tablets.

But, not to run too far ahead of Paul’s argument,2 this new covenant ministry is not spoken of in the abstract. Rather, Paul will set this ministry of the Spirit in positive contrast with another (vv. 7–11), to which he now draws preliminary attention by “written … in tablets of stone” (3:3), a reference to the tablets of stone God gave to Moses on Mount Sinai,3 the commandment-based covenant with the people of Israel.4

However, the ministry that had been historically given to Moses has a contemporary expression through the newly arrived letter-bearing ministers in Corinth, those who “peddle the word of God” (2:17).5 By referring to their “letters of recommendation,” which are “written … in ink” (3:1, 3), and by adding immediately “written … in tablets of stone” (3:3), Paul points to the continuity of these ministers with Moses.6 Paul again contrasts himself, first with the newly arrived ones (“we are not as [hōs].…”; “we [do not] need as [hōs].…”—2:17; 3:17), and then with the commandment-based covenant ministry that they seek to perpetuate (“our letter you [Corinthians] are … written not on tablets of stone but on tablets of hearts of flesh”—3:3). The countermissionaries in Corinth are, in some significant way, exponents of the Mosaic ministry. They are, to use the term imprecisely, “Judaizers.”8

This passage, therefore, points to the marks of authentic as opposed to inauthentic ministry. These newcomers bring “letters of recommendation to [the Corinthians],” as well as seeking such letters from them (v. 1). Paul, however, has no need of such letters but points, instead, to the Corinthian church as Christ’s “letter of recommendation” of him. Their lives are “known and read by everybody” (v. 2).

The church, then, was Christ’s “letter” to Corinth, commending its bearer, Paul. Because of the church Paul has no need of self-commendation (v. 1); he is commended by the Lord (10:18), as he ought also to have been by the Corinthians (12:11).

V 1

Easily missed is the second part of the second question, “Do we need, like some people, letters of recommendation … from you?” This implies that the newcomers will spring from Corinth to other churches, probably those established by Paul.18 It is evident that they sought to establish some kind of network of support, a countermission to Paul (see on 10:12–18; 11:4, 12–15). The opinion that Peter and James, the leaders of Jewish Christianity in Jerusalem, were the instigators of an anti-Pauline mission in Corinth—and therefore the signatories to a letter of recommendation—is rendered unlikely by this question. Why would the newcomers need letters of recommendation from the Corinthians if they possessed letters of recommendation from such weighty persons as Peter or James?19 Possibly the source of recommendation lay with Greek-speaking members of the Pharisaic brotherhoods who were within the orbit of the churches of Judaea20 and who were profoundly disturbed by what appeared to be antinomian21 emphases in Paul’s Gentile mission.22 It is likely that such countermissionaries went with the knowledge of James, but not at his instigation (cf. Acts 15:24).

V 3

Ezek 36:26–27 (cf. 11:19; Prov 7:3).

Paul’s gloss on Ezekiel’s text, whereby in place of a “heart of stone” he substitutes “tablets of stone,” is a clear reference to the tablets of stone on which the commandments were written.47 According to Paul, under that dispensation the stone tablets of the Law, given outwardly to Moses, were internalized within the people as “tablets of stone.” Thus Paul signifies that the Law of God given to Moses became, in the hearts of the covenant people, stonelike, dead. Implicit in Ezekiel’s “promise” of a “heart of flesh” in place of a “heart of stone” is the conviction that the people do not “follow” God’s “decrees” or “keep” his “laws,” which is probably the reason why Paul interprets the prophet’s “hearts of stone” as “tablets of stone.” Disobedience to God’s laws48 has desensitized “hearts of flesh” so as to become “tablets of stone”; the Law of God is as dead within them as their own dead hearts. In the verses following, Paul will expand upon the negative impact of “the letter,”49 the Law, upon the people of the old covenant; that “letter” both “kills” (v. 6; “a ministry of death”—v. 7) and was, in effect, a “ministry of condemnation” (v. 9).

Matching the reference to “tablets of stone,” and to heighten the contrast with the new covenant, however, Paul glosses Ezekiel’s words as “tablets of hearts of flesh.” The hearts of the people have been changed from “tablets of stone” to “tablets of hearts of flesh,” that is, to “living hearts.” This remarkable transformation of the hearts of the people from “stone” to living hearts of “flesh” is attributable to “the Spirit of the living God,” in demonstration of the genuineness of Paul’s claims as a minister of the long-awaited new covenant. The Law of God has been internalized in hearts made alive by the Spirit of the living God (see Jer 31:33; cf. v. 6).

VV 4-6

Having rejected the notion of self-commendation (v. 1), Paul nonetheless introduces the theme of “confidence” (v. 4) and reintroduces the theme of “sufficiency” (vv. 5–6; cf. 2:16). Though not self-commended, he has “such confidence,” that is, that the Corinthians are his “letter [of recommendation] from Christ … known and read by everybody,” a letter that is “written … by the Spirit of the living God … on tablets of human hearts” (v. 3). He has this confidence “through Christ” and “toward God” (v. 4). Confidence is one thing, however; claims to self-sufficiency another. But he will not claim the self-sufficiency even to reckon whether anything comes from him. No; his sufficiency is from God (v. 5), who has indeed made Paul sufficient as a minister of the new covenant (v. 6). Thus Paul answers the question he raised earlier, “Who is sufficient for these things?” (2:16).

“The time is coming,” declares the LORD,

“when I will make a new covenant

with the house of Israel and

with the house of Judah …” (Jer 31:31)26

Paul is here claiming that God had appointed him a minister in that covenant prophesied by Jeremiah and inaugurated by Jesus at his death (“my blood,” as in 1 Cor 11:25; cf. 2 Cor 5:21). The repetition of “sufficient/sufficiency” from 2:16 in this verse ties ministry of the new covenant back into the activities Paul outlined in that passage, where by “the gospel of Christ” (2:12) Paul spread the “knowledge of [Christ] … everywhere” he went (2:14), bringing salvation to some and confirming others in perdition (2:15). Paul’s ministry in the “new covenant,” the apostolic proclamation of the Son of God, affirms that the prophetic promise is now fulfilled (1:20), that the “time of God’s favor, the day of salvation” has “now” come (6:2). “Now” is the time to “be reconciled to God,” since God has reconciled the world to himself through Christ and given the apostles the ministry and word of reconciliation (5:18–21). The signs of this great eschatological moment are the preaching of Christ (1:20) and the presence of the life-giving Spirit in the hearts of the people (1:21–22; 3:3, 18), as Paul now—in the second part of the verse—proceeds to say.

Paul’s line of argument is as follows. The Spirit has changed the inner lives of the Corinthians, making them obedient from the heart to God, which is expressed in their observable behavior (vv. 2–3), giving Paul “confidence” (v. 4) that as an apostle of the Messiah Jesus, the Son of God, whom he has proclaimed to the Corinthians (1:20), he is a minister of the covenant prophesied by Jeremiah/Ezekiel, in this the long-awaited “day” of God’s salvation (6:2; cf. 1:20).

Look

Before Paul completed the thoughts of verses 12 and 13, he broke into words of thanksgiving for the gospel and for his personal ministry as a missionary. This section, which continues through 7:4, will help Paul deal with the false apostles in Corinth. This is the heart of the letter.

2:14 “Triumphal procession”—Paul was thinking of the kind of process a conquering general would put on after a victory. Incense would be burned. When the victors smelled this incense, it meant victory and life. When the defeated smelled it, it meant they would soon die.

2:16 “Who is sufficient for these things?” Paul was not asking a rhetorical question that begs the answer “no one.” He was asking a question that he would answer. Men like himself, Timothy, and Titus are, by God’s grace, equal to this task.

3:6 “Letter . . . Spirit”—Letter refers to the law. It kills because it condemns. Spiritrefers to the Holy Spirit who gives us faith through the gospel. The Spirit gives life because he joins us to Christ.

Discuss

1. Why did Paul have difficulty preaching the gospel in Troas, even though the Lord had given him an open door to do so?

Paul was very concerned about the Corinthians. If Corinth was lost to Christ, Paul’s other mission work would suffer. In his judgment, he had to meet Titus, get his report, and continue his work with the Corinthians before he did anything else, even profitable work in Troas.

2. Contrast the motives and methods of a false prophet with those of a true prophet. (verse 17)

A false prophet peddles the gospel, looking to get something out of it for himself. A true prophet speaks “in Christ,” as accountable to God, “in the sight of God,” with “sincerity,” as one “commissioned by God.” All of this applied to Paul.

3. Why didn’t Paul need a physical letter of recommendation in order to continue his work among the Corinthians? What was Paul’s letter?

From verse 1 we see that Paul’s detractors in Corinth were faulting him for commending himself to them. Paul’s a boaster, they said. But Paul was not commending himself to them. He didn’t need to. The love he had for them was clear to everyone. They could read it in his actions. Also, the Corinthians themselves were a letter of recommendation. In their faith and love, people could see the results of Paul’s work.

Apply

4. Christians want to be good witnesses for the gospel. What should we do first? (verses 4–6)

God alone makes us competent to give others the gift of the gospel and to do so in a God-pleasing way. We should begin all our witnessing work with prayer. We should also pray for our called workers, that God would make them competent ministers who proclaim the pure gospel, not a gospel mixed with law.

Paul broke off into a description of the gospel ministry, which would enable the Corinthians to know and understand him.