But I myself, Paul, entreat you by the meekness and gentleness of the Christ, who, as to appearance, [when present] [am] mean among you, but absent am bold towards you;
Paul defends his standing as an apostle here, against people at Corinth who had belittled him. He does not open with rank or credentials. He opens with the character of Christ — then quotes back the insult they had been passing around about him.
Paul's own name at the head of the sentence is part of the argument. These readers owed more to this man than they now remembered.
There is something both sharp and sad in this opening appeal, "I Paul." Who, then, was this Paul? Let these Corinthians ask themselves once more what they had been, and where, if it had not been for this much-belittled man. He now has to throw his name at their memory again, to win back the acceptance they were withholding — to their own loss.
The words about being humble face to face and bold from a distance are not Paul's own view of himself. They are the taunt of his opponents, picked up and answered.
Not only was his outward form lowly, he was equally lowly in his manner and conduct. From this we learn that his accusers, who tried to turn the Corinthians against him, had poured contempt on his person and character... When he writes that he is "bold toward you when I am away," he has in mind what his enemies had said about the letter he had written them. They belittled his appearance and his character. They said with a sneer that he is bold when he is absent. He knows how to write strong letters from a distance, but otherwise he is a coward.
The pair of words is not a repetition. One names a character, the other the manner it produces — and neither one rules out boldness.
Meekness is not weakness, and gentleness is not that pliable softness that can be twisted in any direction. Meekness and self-assertiveness stand opposed to each other, and so do gentleness and harshness. Meekness is a matter of character — the Lord Jesus said, "I am gentle and lowly in heart" (older translations read "meek and lowly") — and so it comes first. Gentleness is more a question of one's manner. The man who is meek in character will be gentle in manner. The man who is self-assertive in character will be harsh in manner. Supreme meekness and supreme gentleness were found in Christ. Yet no one was bolder than He when it was a question of upholding what is right or opposing evil. Paul was following in His steps to a very large degree. So boldness was found in him as well as meekness and gentleness.
The second word, "gentleness," is hard to pin down in English. It has to do with how a person treats others when he has every right to press his case.
No single English word carries it. It means "equity" rather than the strict letter of the law. So it is a readiness to give up all rigour and severity, even where a legal claim would be just. It is the opposite of standing on one's rights: "mild," "gentle."
The appeal points back to a life. Paul sets one trait of Christ against one fault in Corinth.
The apostle is correcting the spirit of rivalry that had been at work among the Corinthian believers. Some of the gifted servants were measuring themselves against one another and seeking to commend themselves... To correct their vanity and self-assertiveness, he brings before them the meekness of Christ. Christ never asserted His rights and never defended Himself. When He was reviled, He did not revile in return. The chief priests may slander Him, but "Jesus remained silent." He is falsely accused before Pilate, but "he gave him no answer." He is mocked by Herod, but "he made no answer."
A gentle appeal is easy to misread. That is what had happened at Corinth.
False apostles put on a show of power and arrogant pride, so unlike the character of their Lord. Paul had not done so... Fleshly men would despise this as weakness. But Paul writes boldly, though kindly, for the power here is not merely natural... They had mistaken his meek and gentle character for weakness. But if they would not let God enlighten them about this, they might be in for a rude shock when Paul came.
The same character is asked of every believer who meets opposition. It turns out to be the one thing opponents cannot overcome.
We are to beware of being drawn into strife with those who oppose us. After all, "the Lord's servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone." Let us remember this: displaying the character of Christ matters more than pressing our opinions, even right ones, or defending ourselves. Men can oppose our opinions, our assertions and our violence; but who can stand against gentleness? As someone has said, "Gentleness is irresistible."
- The appeal. Paul defends himself not by rank but by the meekness and gentleness of Christ.
- The insult. Humble face to face, bold from a distance — that was the taunt about his plain looks and his strong letters. Paul quotes it back and answers it.
- The character. Meekness is the inward state. Gentleness is how it shows toward others — the opposite of standing on one's rights.
- The pattern. Christ never defended Himself before the priests, Pilate or Herod. Paul holds that silence up against the rivalry at Corinth.
- The power. Grace looks like weakness to human eyes. Yet gentleness, not self-assertion, is the force nothing can resist.
but I beseech that present I may not be bold with the confidence with which I think to be daring towards some who think of us as walking according to flesh.
Paul asks instead of ordering. He begs the Corinthians to live in a way that spares him from being bold when he arrives, because some there had charged him with working on the same level as they did — "according to the flesh."
Paul's critics had worked to undermine him. He was writing at a distance, and he expected to visit soon.
They had done their best to discredit Paul. They said that he could write "weighty and powerful" letters, but that in person he was weak and his speech was poor. From this they concluded that he had no real authority, and his instructions could be ignored. He was now absent from them, and he was bold toward them. But he also expected to visit them soon. So he begged them to behave in such a way that he would not need to come with bold and powerful discipline. That would be uncomfortable for them. This he asked of them by "the meekness and gentleness of Christ" — a very delicate yet powerful lever!
These critics had sized Paul up by their own standard.
Those he refers to here had formed a false estimate of Paul. They judged him by themselves, and they did not know the motive that ruled his conduct. So it seems they mistook grace for weakness, and patient forbearance for timidity and smallness of mind.
Meekness and gentleness are not the same thing, and neither one rules out firmness. Christ Himself is the proof.
Meekness is not weakness, and gentleness is not a soft thing that anyone can twist in any direction. Meekness is the opposite of self-assertiveness, and gentleness is the opposite of harshness.
The charge put Paul on the same level as his critics. His answer turns on one small point of wording.
He begs them not to force him to use his authority as an apostle among them, against those who had wronged him with false charges. They had accused him of walking on the same level with them, that is, "according to the flesh." He rejects this. He says that he walks in flesh. Note that in the Greek the word flesh has no definite article here: not "in the flesh," but "in flesh." That is quite a different thing. He was a man like other men; but when it came to warfare, he waged no fleshly conflict.
Paul's reply has two halves. Everyone alive can say the first; far fewer can say the second.
"For though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh." All who live here below can say the first. How few can say the second — at least as the apostle could. He could say it because the weapons of his warfare were not fleshly but mighty "with" God… Flesh is proud of its own resources, and it digs in behind them against God. But God works in His children when they are dependent, and least of all in His own when they are independent.
Paul's patience follows an order. Grace goes first and goes as far as it can; authority comes after.
This is the principle on which he acted. First he sought to bring to obedience all who listened to God. Then came severity toward all disobedience — but only once obedience stood firm and everyone who would listen had come back to order. Precious principle! The Spirit works in full power and guidance, and with all patience, to bring people back to order and to a walk worthy of God. Grace makes its appeals to the utmost, until all who will listen to them and obey God gladly are restored. Then divine authority speaks in judgment and discipline.
- Charge. Some at Corinth judged Paul on the same level as themselves — as a man driven by ordinary human motives.
- Correction. He answers with a distinction: he walks in flesh, like every other man, but he does not war according to flesh.
- Character. They mistook grace for weakness. Meekness is character, gentleness is manner; neither excludes boldness, as Christ Himself shows.
- Restraint. Paul begs instead of commanding, so he may never need the boldness he is ready to use.
- Order. Grace goes to the limit first. Only after the willing are back in order does he use his authority.
For walking in flesh, we do not war according to flesh.
Paul's critics said he lived on the same low level as they did. This verse is his answer: he admits he walks in the flesh, but denies that he fights according to it.
The verse is a reply, not an abstract statement. One writer points back to the charge in the previous verse.
His opponents took advantage of his absence. They tried to undermine his authority and influence, and they hinted, among other things, that he "walked according to the flesh." (v. 2.) There is the widest possible difference between walking "in" the flesh — that is, in the body (compare Galatians 2:20) — and walking "according to" the flesh. The second would mean that the flesh governs him.
The value of the verse is that it puts both uses of "flesh" side by side in a single sentence.
Verse 3 is instructive, because both senses in which the word flesh is used are brought together in it. We walk in the flesh; that is, in the bodies of flesh which we have derived from Adam. But we do not war after the flesh; that is, according to the Adamic nature which is connected with our bodies.
The first half of the sentence costs nothing to say. The second half is where the test lies.
All who live on earth can say the first; how few can say the second — at least as the apostle could. He could say it because the weapons of his warfare were not fleshly but mighty with God. Flesh is proud of its own resources and digs itself in behind them against God. And God works in His children when they are dependent, and least of all in His own when they are independent.
Paul chooses his words with care. One writer shows how exact they are.
They had accused him of walking on the same level as they did, that is, "according to the flesh." He rejects this. He says he walks in flesh — note that in the Greek the word flesh has no definite article: not "in the flesh," but "in flesh" — which is quite a different thing. He was a man like other men. But when it came to warfare, he waged no fleshly conflict. He admits that he has no wisdom in himself. As to flesh he is powerless, so he is thrown back on God. How different from these false teachers, his accusers, who walked in pride, boasted of wisdom, and let selfish motives rule them.
Paul is not simply denying a habit. He is naming his target.
He will let his opponents know that, though he follows peace, he has weapons and can use them with winning effect. He was waging a warfare, not after the flesh, but against the flesh. Some kept questioning his apostleship and his service as a minister of God, out of idleness or spite. Others tried to lift themselves up at his expense, out of envy. Both would find it out, and be defeated quickly and completely.
Paul writes "we," not "I." One writer takes the verse as a rule for every Christian, not just for Paul.
The apostle first shows that it is one thing to walk in flesh and another to walk according to it. Then he declares that we do not war according to flesh. He puts it not as a personal question of fact, but as a matter of general Christian principle and practice. The warfare of the saint takes its character from Christ. The freedom God calls us to gives no licence for flesh, as if violence or abuse became holy in His service.
Refusing fleshly weapons is not a retreat from conflict.
The point here is not so much our walk as our warfare. Is the believer then called to warfare? He is — and to warfare of a very aggressive kind. But his weapons, like the warfare, are not fleshly but spiritual.
The weapons Paul goes on to name look weak. One writer answers that with a boy, a sling, and a giant.
He found that the meekness and gentleness of Christ were the weapons God used. Five smooth stones and a sling seemed feeble weapons to meet a giant in full armour. But one stone in the hands of a youth was mighty through God to bring down the giant.
One writer sees the same drift in Christian work today:
They are adopting worldly methods, mixing world schemes with the gospel they preach.
- Where — Paul walks in flesh: a real body, real weakness, a man like other men. That much every believer can say.
- How — He does not fight according to flesh. The old nature does not govern him: not its pride, not its self-defence, not its resources.
- Against — His war is not after the flesh but against it. Pride, self-confidence and boasted wisdom are the targets.
- With — His weapons look feeble: meekness, gentleness, dependence on God. Yet they are mighty through God.
- Who — The rule is not Paul's alone. Christian warfare takes its character from Christ, so no cause makes violence or abuse holy.
For the arms of our warfare [are] not fleshly, but powerful according to God to [the] overthrow of strongholds;
At Corinth, Paul's critics claimed he fought on a merely human level. He answers by describing a different fight altogether — different weapons, and a power that is not his own.
Paul draws a line in the sentence just before this one. Living in a body is one thing. Being ruled by it is another.
There is the widest possible difference between walking "in" the flesh, that is, in the body (compare Galatians 2:20), and walking "according to" the flesh, which would mean being ruled by it. The apostle gives his reason for the distinction: the weapons of our warfare are not fleshly, but mighty through God to pull down strongholds — the seats of the enemy's power, like Jericho long ago in what it pictured.
The fortresses in view are not made of stone. They are positions inside people, and someone holds them.
With us there are "strongholds" to be overthrown. Who holds these strongholds? The great adversary himself. He is the one who has dug himself into human hearts. So those hearts are full of "imaginations," or "reasonings." They lift themselves up against the knowledge of God, and they are full of lawlessness. All these proud thoughts have to be brought down and made captive to Christ, so that lawlessness gives way to obedience to Him. What weapons are strong enough to produce that result?
The answer is blunt. A weapon drawn from the same source as the enemy cannot defeat him.
Merely human weapons are completely useless. Fleshly weapons can no more subdue the flesh than Satan can drive out Satan. Only spiritual weapons can win, and they must be used in God's way if they are to work.
Human skill is always close to hand. Set it against Satan's fortresses and the mismatch is absurd:
Set mere human eloquence, or learning, or skill, or intellect against such strongholds. Try to coax people round the corner of their rebellion and self-will by arts and sciences that appeal only to feelings and emotions. That is worse folly than attacking the fortress of Gibraltar with a pea-shooter. Nothing but the power of God will do.
Paul does not list the weapons here, and commentators fill the gap in different ways. One points to a boy with a sling facing an armoured giant:
Paul did not fight according to the flesh. In his conflict with the enemy he had no use for fleshly weapons. He found that the meekness and gentleness of Christ were the weapons God used. Five smooth stones and a sling looked feeble against a giant in full armour. Yet one stone in the hands of a young man was mighty through God, and the giant fell.
Another points to weapons every Christian can use:
There are, however, spiritual weapons that all may use. The apostles in Jerusalem gave examples when they said, "we will devote ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word" (Acts 6:4). Every believer can pray, and every believer can speak the Word in some way.
The power is not in the man holding the weapons. Paul enters this fight with nothing of his own.
In the flesh he is powerless, for by his own confession he is dead with Christ. But in the Spirit he has weapons that are mighty, through God, to overthrow whatever stands against God. At the root of his confession as a servant of God lies this: the power is God's alone. So efforts made in his own strength are fruitless, even when the purpose is godly.
Paul's fight here does not only hold ground. It advances.
The conflict of Ephesians 6 is mainly defensive: the only attacking weapon named there is the sword of the Spirit, the Word of God. Here the conflict is aggressive, and there are weapons — the word is plural, for there is more than one. Pulling down strongholds of stone or iron is easy next to pulling down strongholds of unbelief and of the powers of darkness, and casting down the empty reasonings of darkened yet proud and self-satisfied minds.
- Not carnal — Paul lives in a body like everyone else, but he will not be ruled by it. A weapon taken from the enemy's own supply can never beat him.
- Not stone — the strongholds are reasonings and pride dug into human hearts. No argument or eloquence can shift the enemy who holds them.
- Not ours — the might is "through God"; effort spent in our own sufficiency is fruitless even when the aim is good.
- Not scarce — prayer, the Word, and the meekness and gentleness of Christ are within every believer's reach. They look as feeble as a sling before a giant.
- Not defensive only — this warfare advances. Its aim is captivity: every thought brought into the obedience of Christ.
overthrowing reasonings and every high thing that lifts itself up against the knowledge of God, and leading captive every thought into the obedience of the Christ;
Paul is at war, but not with people. He names the real battlefield: the reasonings and proud thoughts that stand between a person and the knowledge of God.
The strongholds Paul names are not made of stone. Commentators place them in the human heart, and behind the heart, in an enemy.
With us there are "strongholds" to be overthrown. Who holds these strongholds? The great adversary himself. He has dug himself into human hearts. So those hearts fill up with "imaginations" or "reasonings." They lift themselves up high against the knowledge of God, and they fill with lawlessness. Every one of these proud thoughts must be brought low and taken captive to Christ, so that lawlessness gives way to obedience to Him.
People often read this verse next to the armour of Ephesians 6. The two passages face opposite ways.
The conflict in Ephesians 6 is mostly defensive. The only attacking weapon named there is the sword of the Spirit, the Word of God. Here the conflict is on the attack... Pulling down strongholds of stone or iron is easy next to this. Here you take apart strongholds of unbelief and of the powers of darkness. You throw down the empty reasonings of minds that are darkened, yet proud and pleased with themselves. The goal is that the whole soul and mind, and every thought in it, bows to God with the glad, ready obedience Christ Himself gave.
Sharper argument, wit, or pressure cannot do this work. They come from the very nature they are trying to beat.
Human weapons on their own are useless. Human nature can no more subdue human nature than Satan can drive out Satan. Only spiritual weapons win, and we must use them God's way for them to work.
The older word translates a term for reasonings. One writer defines the aim of the whole campaign, and draws a sharp conclusion from it.
The true aim of spiritual warfare is to hold down the natural will. That will is where Satan sits, and it is the tool he works through. So faith claims and defends God's rights against the rights people claim for themselves. This is why Paul writes as he does here. Thoughts that run independent of God can never sit alongside a real submission of heart and mind to Him. God's church is a holy place for God's truth, not for human thought... A believer who thinks free of God is a contradiction in terms, because God's truth is what sanctifies us.
Commentators differ over who is in view. Some read the verse as Paul's own inner discipline. Others hold that the setting points outward, to those attacking him at Corinth.
"Taking every thought captive to obey Christ" does not mean Paul's own thoughts. The context makes that clear. He means the thoughts of his opponents, who were trying to corrupt the truth of Christianity at Corinth. Paul had to face two kinds of opposition. The first came from teachers who pressed the Jewish law on believers. The second came from philosophy. Both stood against the truth.
Paul's picture is of prisoners of war led away. The Greek verb behind it carries its own picture, and that picture fits how hard the task is.
The Greek word here for "leading captive" is completely different from the one used in 1 Cor. 9:27 for "keep it under control." The word in 2 Cor. 10 comes from a word that means 'to throw a spear.' Our thoughts slip away from us and are very hard to catch and lead off. Perhaps that is why the Spirit of God chooses a word about throwing a spear. And thank the Lord — even every thought can be led captive to the obedience of Christ. That is the hardest of all.
The verse does not say obedience to Christ only, but the obedience of Christ. That phrase sets the kind of obedience, not just who it is owed to.
The obedience of Christ is the character of our obedience. Suppose my child wants to go into town, and I say, "No, sit down and do your lesson." The child obeys. That is very nice and right. But Christ never obeyed like that. The proper character of Christian obedience is that the motive for doing a thing is that it is God's will.
Whoever the opponents are, one writer insists that the order matters. You start with your own thoughts.
Why does evil lift its head while we cannot go out to meet it in the strength of God as we should? Is it not because we go out before we have judged ourselves? We fail to get down on our faces and ask God to search our hearts. We fail to take every thought captive to obey Christ first. then we can deal with the evil. A man that judges himself in the presence of God is the man who can go out and conquer for God.
- Enemy — the adversary holds the strongholds. He is dug into human hearts, filled with reasonings that lift themselves against the knowledge of God.
- Weapons — human tools are useless here. Human nature cannot subdue human nature. Only spiritual weapons win, and only when used God's way.
- Advance — the armour of Ephesians 6 mostly defends. This warfare attacks. It goes out to pull down proud, self-satisfied thinking.
- Capture — the word pictures thoughts led away as prisoners. Thoughts slip away from us, which makes this the hardest capture of all.
- Obedience — the goal is Christ's own kind of obedience, where you act because it is God's will. It starts with judging yourself, before you face evil outside.
and having in readiness to avenge all disobedience when your obedience shall have been fulfilled.
Paul writes to the church at Corinth holding a power he has not yet used. The verse raises practical questions: what makes obedience "complete," why does Paul wait, and what is left of this authority today?
The ESV says obedience must be "complete." Older translations, which the writers below quote, say "fulfilled" and "avenge." Either way, Paul is waiting for something.
In verse 6, "when your obedience is fulfilled" means he waited for them to go with him in all. There is the greatest grace in this, for he comes with authority behind, and has what I may call a rod for them, if needed.
Why did he write so plainly about evil? One writer gives the reason.
In 2 Cor. 10:6 we find a reason why he poured out the light he had about evil among people who were living in disorder. It might bring some of them to obedience before he came with a rod to avenge all disobedience, when their obedience was fulfilled. God's mind was to build up and not to destroy, and Paul's mind was the same.
But is waiting the same as letting the matter drop?
But the grace in the apostle could wait. He was never indifferent. He was patient now that their conscience was at work, and he would wait until their obedience was fulfilled. Yet he never gave up Christ's right to punish every kind of disobedience, and not only what was scandalous. He would have them all with himself united for the Lord against every evil thing. The church would be giving up Christ if it quietly accepted what denies His name.
Paul was after a particular result. He did not want obedience that his presence forced out of them.
He knew well the power he had "to avenge all disobedience," and "to use sharpness according to the power which the Lord had given him for building up and not for tearing down." If his aim had been to prove his claim to authority, that would have been the quickest way. But his one question was how to use his authority for building up. Making them fall in line by simply turning up in person was not his aim. His delight was to see obedience flowing from grace.
Some at Corinth doubted that Paul could back up his words.
Some among them could not deny the force of his words, yet they doubted his power to make them good. For all who stayed in that mind, he has his remedy ready. The Lord whom he served, and who had sent him, had armed him with powers that no one could keep on resisting except to their own destruction.
But what if some still refuse?
Patience was kindly shown, to seek the right result. But once time had been given to secure the obedience of the assembly as a whole, the same weapons of God would be ready to "avenge all disobedience," through the discipline of His hand toward those who resisted. God is in no way going to be defeated by the pride of man.
The verse pictures a case where not everyone agrees. One writer draws a practical conclusion from that.
This puts the case that the apostle's work to produce obedience had its full effect, and yet some might still not submit to the word. Then he would come with the rod and avenge disobedience. So Paul states a case where not all agree, and deals with those who stood out.
The apostles are gone. One writer says what has not gone with them.
The power of God's Spirit was to bring all that was under its influence to obedience to the ways of God. Then came vengeance on disobedience. You may not have an apostolic rod, but you have God's sure government for Christ's glory.
And what about a believer who is treated wrongly by a church decision? For him the verse holds a promise.
The assembly can make mistakes, and a decision, even one taken by the majority, may be wrong. Anyone who believes he has been treated wrongly should commit his way to the Lord in confidence. Humility, patience and a spirit of meekness are necessary in all. The Lord cannot fail to answer after our obedience is fulfilled.
- Obedience first. Paul waits to act until the believers have gone the whole way with him. The rod stays behind the letter.
- Grace waits. The delay is patience while conscience works. It is not indifference, and Christ keeps His right to judge every kind of disobedience.
- Power is real. The Lord who sent Paul had armed him. Those who resist meet the discipline of God's hand, and human pride cannot defeat His purpose.
- Holdouts, not head-counts. Some may still refuse after the word has done its full work. Total agreement is not the condition for acting.
- Still true today. No apostolic rod remains, but God still governs. The wronged believer can wait for the Lord to answer.
Do ye look at what concerns appearance? If any one has confidence in himself that he is of Christ, let him think this again in himself, that even as he [is] of Christ, so also [are] we.
Paul's critics at Corinth judged him by his looks and his speech, and decided he carried no real authority from the Lord. He tells them to stop reading the surface: whatever standing they claim with Christ, he shares it.
The complaint was not about doctrine. It was about how Paul looked and sounded.
It seems clear that Paul had nothing in his manner or his actions, and nothing in rank or position, to attract a fleshly or worldly mind... Some of the Corinthians belittled him. They could not understand an apostle of such poor appearance, with a style of speech so unsuited to an ambassador of Christ... People in Achaia put far too high a value on outward manner. The apostle at once brings in Christ, who reduces all men and all things to their true level.
Judging by the surface is not a new fault. One writer traces it back to the prophet Samuel, who took the tall Eliab for the Lord's anointed.
Look at even such a man as Samuel. When Eliab stood before him, he said, "the Lord's anointed is before me." But he looked where the Lord did not look. He eyed the man's face and the height of his stature, while the Lord eyed the heart. And in these days, with attractions both religious and secular, we are in danger of mistaking Eliab again for the Lord's anointed. Paul was held in some contempt at Corinth because his "bodily presence" was "weak." He was no Eliab. He lacked "outward appearance" (see 1 Samuel 16:7; 2 Corinthians 10:7). Even the disciples at Corinth were lured away from him.
The verse can also be read as a question, and older translations put it that way: "Do you look on things after the outward appearance?" One writer ties that surface test to the confidence of a man who is sure he belongs to Christ.
The Apostle's question, "Do you look on things after the outward appearance?", shows what some in the assembly at Corinth had argued. They said a man with such a poor appearance and such weak speech could not be an ambassador of Christ. This means they were trusting that they were of Christ because of some imagined quality in themselves.
Being "of Christ" had already become a party slogan at Corinth. One writer thinks that spirit was still at work when Paul wrote these words.
There were various parties among the Corinthians... but of all this divisive activity the Christ-party, I would gather, was the most stubborn... there are signs that the spirit of those who said, "I am of Christ," had not yet died out. They claimed a special and exclusive connection with Him... Here the apostle speaks to the man who is confident in himself that he is of Christ. He tells him to think it over again: even as he is of Christ, so is Paul. How simple the truth is, and how destructive of airy dreams that would misuse even Christ to flatter self! Nor is anything so holy or so humble as the faith that clings to Him.
He could have opened with his apostleship. Instead he starts lower down, on something every believer at Corinth shared with him.
And first he will speak not of official claims, but of living standing. Does any one of those he has in mind trust that he is Christ's? He might fairly raise this question. If they really belonged to Him from whom Paul had received grace and apostleship, they were giving strange proof of it by calling Paul in question. But since love hopes all things, he would still hope this on their behalf. As they are, so is he also. In this respect they stand on common and unassailable ground.
Once the level ground is granted, the self-confident believer's reasoning collapses on its own terms.
Did the Corinthians assume that "the outward appearance" of things was a reliable guide? Most men know better than this when buying a used car... Merely looking at the surface of things, a believer might say that he himself is of Christ, and therefore his opinions must be right. But let him stop and think. Paul also is "of Christ," and his opinions contradict those of the self-confident believer. Both cannot be right.
- Surface. The trouble started with a look. A weak body and plain speech convinced some at Corinth that Paul had no authority from the Lord.
- Samuel. Samuel measured Eliab by his height; Corinth measured Paul the same way. Man looks on the outward appearance, the Lord looks on the heart.
- Self. Confidence built on some imagined quality in yourself is the same surface test turned inward.
- Sect. Claiming Christ as private property misuses His name to flatter self. Real faith clings to Him and stays humble.
- Same. Paul answers with standing, not office: whatever you are, so is he. On that level ground both cannot be right.
For and if I should boast even somewhat more abundantly of our authority, which the Lord has given [to us] for building up and not for your overthrowing, I shall not be put to shame;
Paul is answering people in Corinth who challenged his right to lead them. His reply is not about his personality. It is about where his authority came from and what it is for. That raises two questions. When may a person speak up about his own standing? And what keeps such authority honest?
Paul's claim rests on a gift, not on a rank he took for himself. One writer links the title "apostle" at the top of Paul's letters to this verse. He also points to a letter where Paul chose not to use that authority.
This title included the authority that the Lord had given him (see 2 Cor. 10:8), and in most of these letters he is exercising this authority. In Corinth and Galatia the churches had challenged his authority. In Philemon Paul says, "I might be very bold in Christ to command you to do what is required, yet for love's sake I prefer to appeal to you — I, Paul, an old man." That tells us plainly why he does not wish to use his authority here. So we would not expect to find the title "apostle."
Paul boasts about his authority and still says he will not be ashamed. One commentator explains why. Grace puts all believers on the same level, but God gives each one a different place, and Paul's place was truly his.
By saving grace, all saints stand on the same level. But variety, not sameness, is the rule in God's house… All are not apostles, but Paul had his allotted place and calling… If anyone questioned him, his reply was ready. The Lord had given him an authority he could rightly make a special boast of. Its end was building up rather than destruction. Even so, where the need arose, it would also prove effective for humbling and confounding the flesh in all its forms. In his work he waited on his Lord with a single heart and eye. He did not seek people's admiration but the praise of God. So he knew that though his words were bold, he would not be ashamed.
Paul sets building up against "destroying." Older translations read "destruction," and one commentator traces that word back four verses.
The word translated "destruction" in verse 8 is the same as the one translated "pulling down" in verse 4. The word "overthrowing" is possibly better in both places. God has power to overthrow strongholds of unbelief. The same power can overthrow carnal and disobedient believers too, if that sad necessity arises. Yet the normal and proper use of that power is for the edification, or building up, of the saints.
The dispute at Corinth looked like a clash of personalities. One writer reads it differently, and names the motive power behind true building.
The apostle's call was to build up, not to cast down; and it is love that builds up. But there was opposition to the Lord quite as much as, or more than, to Paul in questioning the authority given to him.
Paul had this power, and he used it patiently. He worked through the conscience of the church instead of going over their heads.
Notice that the apostle refers to his personal authority as an apostle. But he uses it in patience, for he had it to build up and not to destroy. His aim is to bring back to obedience and uprightness all those who would listen. So, keeping Christian unity in holiness, he clothes the apostolic authority with the power of the conscience of the whole assembly, guided by the Spirit, as far as there was a conscience at work.
One writer does not leave this rule with the apostles. He turns the same test on anyone who serves among God's people.
He is speaking of the power which the Lord had given to him… No doubt he means his apostolic calling and power. But we too, in a smaller way, are in the same position. We belong to the Christian company and to some local gathering. Are we sure that we are bending our efforts to edification and not to destruction — building up, not pulling down?
- Given — the Lord gave this authority. Paul did not appoint himself, and to question it was to resist the Lord as much as the man.
- Guarded — since the Lord gave it, Paul could boast of it without shame. God gives different places in His house, and Paul stood in his.
- Aimed — the goal is building up. The word for "destroying" matches "pulling down" in verse 4, and that overthrowing power is only for a sad necessity.
- Restrained — Paul used it in patience. He worked through the conscience of the church to bring people back to obedience.
- Applied — the same question faces us all: are we building up, or pulling down?
that I may not seem as if I was frightening you by letters
Paul has just said that the Lord gave him real authority. Here he explains why he holds it back. He does not want to look like a man whose only weapon is a strong letter. A sneer was going round Corinth: bold on paper, weak in person. Paul's reply shows how he used his authority, and what his critics had missed.
Paul could have said far more about his standing. He chose not to. One commentator links that choice to the taunt going around.
Self-will never ran short of material for running down the person, character, office and work of a servant whom the Lord used, kept and honoured beyond all example. Paul held back from saying more about his authority in and from the Lord, though he easily might have and naturally would have. He held back so that he would not seem to be frightening them by his letters. He held back because of what one man said: his letters are weighty and strong, but his bodily presence is weak and his speech counts for nothing.
This holding back is not fear. It follows from the reason the Lord gave him the authority. One word in the previous verse makes the point.
The word translated "destruction" in verse 8 is the same as the one translated "pulling down" in verse 4. "Overthrowing" is possibly better in both places. The power of God can overthrow strongholds of unbelief. The same power can also overthrow fleshly, disobedient believers, if that sad need arises. Yet the normal and proper use of that power is for the edification, or building up, of the saints.
So the letter is not a threat hanging over them. Paul writes for their good:
He is not given authority simply to put them down, but with the object of their building up. It is this that he emphasises. So his writing is not to terrify them, but with motives of their purest blessing.
His critics judged a servant of Christ by how he looked and sounded. People had used that same measure before, one writer notes — on Christ Himself.
Even his enemies admitted that his letters were weighty and powerful. But to a natural eye there was nothing grand or commanding about the way he looked and carried himself. He avoided all "wisdom of words" on principle, so his speech seemed poor and worthless to some. Those people welcomed "good words and fair speeches" sooner than the truth of God. And those who judged only by appearance, and spoke their minds so freely about this messenger of Christ, never stopped to think what they were doing. They were seeing and judging in the same spirit as the people who saw no beauty in Him when He walked on earth.
The insult carries a compliment his opponents could not hold back. It says something about what Paul wrote.
Let them know too that when he came among them they would find him just what his letters plainly were — weighty and powerful. Here, thrown in along the way, is a tribute to the effect his inspired writings had on the people of his own day. They were the Word of God. They proved themselves to be that in the hearts of anyone with spiritual sense. They do just the same today. We recognise them as far too weighty and powerful to be merely the word of man.
They said he was bold only at a distance. His reply: the letter and the man are the same.
His opponents seized the chance to say that the letters really were weighty and strong. But when people saw the man himself, they found nothing to match them. He maintains that just what he was in his letters, so he would show himself to be when present with them. The deed would make good the word. The profession would not be found, as in the case of others it might be, to exceed the reality.
He had the power to end the trouble by showing up in force. He wanted something better.
He might have come with the rod. No doubt his arrival would have stopped many abuses and silenced many a chattering preacher. Had his object been to establish his claim to authority, this would have been the quickest way. But he was fully conscious of his authority, and his question was how to use it for building up. Producing agreement with his commands by his personal presence was not his aim. His delight was to see obedience flowing from grace. He wanted order produced by inward life, not by outward rules.
- Purpose. The Lord gave the authority for building up, not overthrowing. Overthrowing is the exception, never the normal use.
- Restraint. For that purpose, Paul said less than he could, so his letters would not read as threats.
- Misjudgment. His critics measured him by appearance and speech — the same standard by which people once saw no beauty in Christ.
- Weight. Even they admitted the letters were powerful; that power marks them out as the Word of God, not the word of man.
- Consistency. Away or present, his word and deed would match. But he wanted obedience flowing from grace, not order forced by his presence.
because his letters, he says, [are] weighty and strong, but his presence in the body weak, and his speech naught.
Paul's opponents at Corinth found a neat way to blunt his authority: grant that his letters carry force, then point at the man himself. Paul quotes their sneer back at them, and it raises a question — how do you measure a servant of God?
Paul is repeating an accusation. One writer lines it up with the other charges thrown at him in this letter. Behind the attack on the man stood an attack on the Lord.
There was opposition to the Lord quite as much or more than to Paul in questioning the authority given to him. To undermine and destroy it, his critics used his words and ways against him. They accused him of fickleness, wavering and untruthfulness, as we gather from the first chapter. They accused him of lacking moral courage when present, and of contemptible weakness in person and ministry, as we see here — made worse by the heroic style of his letters when he was absent. And they accused him of craft, guile and self-seeking, as it seems from 2 Corinthians 12. Self-will never lacked material for running down the person, character, office and work of a servant. And the Lord had used, kept and honoured this servant beyond all example.
His critics mocked two things: how he looked and how he spoke. One writer says his plain speech was a deliberate choice, and that those who despised it were repeating an old mistake.
Even his enemies admitted that his letters were weighty and powerful. But to the natural eye his presence and personal bearing had nothing majestic or commanding about them. He avoided all "wisdom of words" on principle. So his speech seemed poor and contemptible to those who preferred flattering, smooth talk to the truth of God. They judged only by appearance, and spoke their minds openly about this messenger of Christ. They never considered whose spirit they were judging in. It was the spirit of those who, when Christ was here on earth, saw no beauty in Jehovah's beautiful and glorious Branch.
The Greek word behind "bodily presence" is parousia. Paul uses the same word for the arrival of Titus and of Stephanas.
Paul writes of the "coming" of Titus to him in Macedonia (2 Cor. 7:6-7), and also of the "coming" to him of Stephanas and his companions (1 Cor. 16:17)… Parousia is used to express his "bodily presence" in 2 Cor. 10:10. These instances show something about the person the word refers to. He is not just on the way. He has come, he is present, he has arrived, and he is with the people he was coming to.
Some at Corinth treated stage presence as proof of authority. One commentator shows how badly that test fails, and how the same facts point the other way.
Some among the Corinthians admitted that Paul's letters were weighty and powerful. But they discounted this, because Paul had no imposing personal appearance and no eloquent speech. What a poor measure to judge by! A man might have such natural gifts, along with extraordinary brilliance, and still be a cunning enemy of God. It would have been far wiser to say something else. Paul was a humble, self-effacing man who did not stand out among men — and yet his letters were weighty and powerful.
Weakness is where divine strength comes in. One writer grants the charge, then turns it into a question the critics cannot answer.
The path of strength, then, is to be made aware of our own weakness. Then divine strength can come in. That strength will never be an addition to the strength of the flesh. This means complete dependence, and the real entrance of Christ's power to work through us. Suppose Paul's bodily presence was weak, his speech contemptible, and something about him invited contempt. Then by whose power did such astonishing blessing for the whole world flow out? It went out on every side, from Jerusalem all the way round to Illyricum.
Paul does not promise to become more impressive. He promises consistency.
He insists that exactly what he was in his letters, he would show himself to be when present with them. The deed would make good the word. With others, the claim might go beyond the reality. With Paul, it would not.
- Quoted, not confessed. The insult is his critics' line, quoted back. They also charged him with fickleness, cowardice and self-seeking.
- Chosen, not accidental. He refused all "wisdom of words" on principle. What sounded like a poor style was a choice.
- Familiar, not new. Judge a messenger by looks, and you repeat the mistake of those who saw no beauty in Christ Himself.
- Useless, not reliable. Good looks and fine speech can belong to a cunning enemy of God. They prove nothing.
- Weak, therefore powerful. They thought him too feeble to respect. Yet blessing flowed out through him from Jerusalem round to Illyricum, and he promised his deeds would match his letters.
Let such a one think this, that such as we are in word by letters [when] absent, such also present in deed.
Critics at Corinth mocked Paul: strong on paper, weak in person. Verse 11 is his quiet, pointed reply — a promise that the man they meet will be the same man they read.
Some at Corinth had never met Paul, and his critics used that gap.
He makes these plain statements in case anyone who knew little of him personally should think that writing was his only strength. Even his enemies admitted that his letters were weighty and powerful. Yet to a natural eye, his presence and bearing had nothing majestic or commanding about them. He avoided all "wisdom of words" on principle. So his speech seemed poor and worthless to those who welcomed "good words and fair speeches" more readily than the truth of God (Rom. 16:18). But they judged by appearance only, and spoke their minds freely about this messenger of Christ. They never noticed whose spirit they shared. When Christ walked on earth, some saw no beauty in Jehovah's beautiful and glorious Branch. These men were seeing and judging in the same way.
The complaint about his person was one item on a longer charge sheet.
There was opposition to the Lord quite as much as, or more than, to Paul in questioning the authority given to him. To undermine and destroy it, his critics turned his own words and ways against him. They charged him with fickleness, wavering, and untruthfulness, as we gather from the first chapter. They charged him with lack of moral courage when present, and with pitiful weakness in person and ministry, as we see here — made worse by the heroic style of his letters when absent. They charged him with craft, deceit, and self-seeking, as it seems from 2 Corinthians 12. Self-will never lacked material for running down a servant's person, character, office and work — a servant the Lord used, kept, and honoured beyond all example.
Paul does not argue about his appearance. He guarantees that his conduct will match his letters — and that is where his opponents differ from him.
He maintains that just what he was in his letters, so he would show himself to be when he was present with them. The deed would make good the word. His profession would never go beyond the reality, as the profession of others might.
His arrival would settle the matter, but not by a display designed to win them over. The Corinthians had chosen a poor measuring rod.
Clearly some among the Corinthians admitted that Paul's letters were weighty and powerful. But they discounted this, because Paul had no imposing appearance and no eloquent speech. What a poor standard to judge by! A man might have such natural gifts, along with remarkable brilliance, and still be a cunning enemy of God... And so the apostle reminds them that he will act among them as he writes to them. He would not be looking for an admiring audience. He would be acting for God. And mere outward attraction would fall to its proper level.
The sneer contained a compliment. The critics granted that the letters were powerful — and that admission still stands.
Let them know this too. When he came among them, they would find him to be just what his letters plainly were — weighty and powerful. Here we have, thrown in along the way, a tribute to the effect his inspired writings had on the people of his own day. They were the Word of God. They proved themselves to be such in the hearts of anyone with spiritual sensitivity. They do just the same today. We recognise them as far too weighty and powerful to be only the word of man.
What Paul claims here is the test for anyone who ministers. Christ met it perfectly.
The manner of life of a true leader will match the word he ministers. Paul could write to the Corinthians that he and Timothy refused "to tamper with God's word." Instead, "by the open statement of the truth we would commend ourselves to everyone's conscience in the sight of God" (2 Cor. 4:2). They practised what they preached. Writing to Timothy, the apostle can say, "You, however, have followed my teaching, my conduct, my aim in life, my faith..." (2 Tim. 3:10). The Son of God on earth perfectly expressed in His life the word He spoke.
- Charge — Critics said writing was Paul's only strength. His appearance offered nothing commanding to the natural eye.
- Cover — The attack on his person really targeted the authority the Lord gave him. Running down a servant is an old trade.
- Claim — His answer is not self-defence but a guarantee: the deed will make good the word. No profession runs ahead of reality.
- Contrast — He would come acting for God, not seeking an admiring audience. Natural charm falls to its proper level.
- Continuation — The letters they admitted were powerful are the Word of God. The same test — word matching life — measures everyone who ministers today.