Thrice have I been scourged, once I have been stoned, three times I have suffered shipwreck, a night and day I passed in the deep
Rivals at Corinth were boasting about their credentials. Paul answered with a list nobody would envy, and it raises a question: why would a servant of Christ treat his scars as proof of his calling?
Paul knew that comparing himself with his rivals was unwise. He did it anyway, and what he set before them was the cost of his service.
If this point of comparison is raised, then Paul's folly must go beyond itself. If comparing himself with others at all is unwise, he must seem even more senseless in his boasting when he claims victory over all competitors. And he does no less when he offers his judges these memorials of his service. He has scars to show, as a good soldier of Christ, and he will show them. Some of these facts are confirmed by other testimony, and the rest we may accept on his own word, since his bold challenge was never answered.
The rods were a Roman punishment. Roman law protected a citizen like Paul from it, and he once claimed that protection.
This was a punishment inflicted by the Romans. They stripped the person, stretched him out with cords or straps on a frame, and beat him with a whip or a rod. From about 300 B.C. Roman citizens were exempt from scourging. Paul used this privilege when he was about to be "examined" under this punishment (Acts 22:24-29). But he was beaten with rods three times (2 Corinthians 11:25). The Lord Himself suffered the pain and shame of scourging (John 19:1).
Scripture tells one of those three beatings in full. What stands out there is not the pain but the response to it.
"Rods," which were a Gentile punishment, also came to him in full measure. One of the three times mentioned here is told at length in its proper place, and there he did not suffer alone. It stands to the praise of the glory of that grace, which then shone so clearly in both Paul and his companion in trouble. At midnight in the prison, with their feet in chains and their wounds unwashed, they sang God's praises through His Son (Acts 16).
The one stoning happened at Lystra. Paul could not shake the memory, because he had once stood on the other side of that violence, at the death of Stephen.
Once his persecutors arrived in Lystra, they persuaded the people that Paul was not fit to live. So they stoned him. Surely he would remember the day when he helped to stone Stephen. Look at the unconscious body of the apostle as it lay on the ground, blood streaming from many wounds. Paul could not forget that day. "Once I was stoned" (2 Corinthians 11:25) was his comment to the Corinthian church.
The list was not complete when Paul wrote it. The famous shipwreck of Acts 27 was still ahead.
He had been shipwrecked three times. One of those times involved a night and a day in the deep. We suppose that means he was washed about in the waters of the Mediterranean. But the shipwreck recorded in Acts 27 had not yet taken place. That must therefore have been number four, at least.
Paul does not say how he stayed alive in the water.
Whether swimming or held up by boards, the shock of such an experience would not easily be forgotten. Practically all of his journeys were far more dangerous than travel today.
Set beside the other great figures of Scripture, Paul's record of suffering is in a category of its own.
As far as the record given to us in Scripture is concerned, he stands alone among the people of God in his sufferings. An Abraham, a Moses, a David, a Daniel — each had their own special marks that showed they pleased God. But not one of them approached Paul in this. Hard labour, beatings, prisons, brushes with death, constant travel, dangers of every kind, weariness, pain, sleepless nights, hunger, thirst, going without food, cold, no clothing, care — what a list! It covers pretty well the whole range of human suffering, whether of body or mind.
The list carries two lessons.
Paul stood firm through all these things. His endurance should have made a deep impression on the Corinthians, and it should impress us no less. … Notice that he is not boasting of what people would call great achievements. He boasts instead in the things that humble him. All of this shows him to be helplessly dependent on the Living God, who proves Himself completely faithful in caring for His servant.
- Scars, not credentials. Asked to prove he was a minister of Christ, Paul pointed to his wounds, not his successes. He had scars to show, and he showed them.
- Rods. Roman law should have spared a citizen this. One of the three beatings ended with Paul singing in prison at midnight, his wounds still unwashed.
- Stones. The single stoning at Lystra left him for dead, and it echoed the day he had helped stone Stephen.
- The deep. Three shipwrecks and a night and a day in the sea. The shipwreck of Acts 27 was still ahead when he wrote.
- The measure. Paul stands alone among the people of God in Scripture for what he suffered. Yet his boast is in what humbled him, and it leaves him leaning wholly on God.
in journeyings often, in perils of rivers, in perils of robbers, in perils from [my own] race, in perils from [the] nations, in perils in [the] city, in perils in [the] desert, in perils on [the] sea, in perils among false brethren;
Paul's rivals at Corinth boasted about their standing, so he answers them with a list of dangers instead of a list of successes. He names danger after danger — rivers, robbers, his own people, foreigners, the city, the wilderness, the sea — and ends with the one danger no road could avoid: false brothers.
The stripes and beatings of the previous verses were single events. This verse describes a way of life: going out again and again, whatever it cost. One writer marks the difference.
It is not only enduring cruel treatment now and then from open enemies that tests the heart. The heart is shown even more by the tireless, constant going out from country to country, whatever the labour and the danger. He went among strangers whom the Jews could easily stir up, once the Jews themselves were inflamed at the gospel. Add to that the many trials of the road.
The verse opens with travel, not with danger. Paul did not pick these roads for comfort, and he carried no protection of his own.
His journeys were not for his own pleasure. On his Master's service he never gave up time for the sake of comfort, and he never shrank from the path in front of him out of any fear for himself. He was glad to follow the Spirit's leading, even when it brought him to his goal by dangerous and rarely used roads. From the floods and the robbers alike the Lord was his sole but effective defence.
Paul lists his own countrymen and the Gentiles, then the city and the wilderness. He was equally unsafe among crowds and alone.
His walk as one who confessed Christ's name was so clear and definite that he lived in constant danger from his own race and from the Gentiles, and almost equally from each. That was true quite apart from the particular cases of ill-treatment noticed above. In the city, men watched him on every side. They dreaded and hated his work, and they thirsted for his blood without stopping. In the desert, the natural dangers and hardships were worse for a man who could no longer count on people being friendly.
The term is not a petty thief but a violent bandit — and it is the same word used of men the Gospels put beside Christ.
The word means "robber, bandit." In the parable of the Good Samaritan the traveller fell among robbers (Luke 10:30, 36). When the Lord was arrested He asked if they had come out as against a robber (Matthew 26:55; Mark 14:48; Luke 22:52). The two criminals crucified with the Lord were also men of this character.
The list ends where no traveller can escape by changing route. The same phrase appears in only one other place in the New Testament. Writing on that passage, one commentator describes what these men are.
First, he says they were false. They were traitors. They were not true believers in Christ at all. On the outside they had accepted Christianity. But they knew nothing of the power of the precious blood of Christ to cleanse their sins... They were, in Paul's words, "false brothers." This word is used only twice in the New Testament — there and in 2 Corinthians 11:26. Someone had brought these false brothers in secretly, without the other believers knowing.
Another writer sorts the dangers by where they came from, and traces the last one to Satan himself.
Besides the dangers common to everyone who travelled — water travel, robbers and so on — there were dangers that came from his witness for Christ. Some came from Jewish opposition and hatred. Some came from Gentile resentment, as at Ephesus. And Satan added his own subtle attacks through false brothers. Paul's steadfast endurance through all of this should have deeply impressed the Corinthians, and it should impress us no less.
Much of what this verse summarises never appears in the narrative of Paul's travels.
The record that follows goes far beyond the history we have in Acts, which was only a sample of much more. He had met dangers of every kind: from enemies, from false brothers, from his own countrymen, from strangers, in crowds of people, in desolate wilderness places, and dangers from what men call accidents.
The dangers came because the work was real. Where there is little cost, one writer suggests, the reason may lie closer to home.
If we in our day were more energetic and more faithful in our service for the Lord Jesus, we should doubtless know more of all three things.
- Danger by obedience — the roads were dangerous because Paul went where his Master sent him, not where it was safe.
- Danger from strangers — bandits, floods and the sea; the Lord alone was his defence.
- Danger from both sides — his own people and the Gentiles hated the same work, so city and desert were both unsafe.
- Danger from inside — "false brothers" are men who took the Christian name without the reality, and no change of route could avoid them.
- Danger unrecorded — the list runs far beyond what Acts reports, and its length shows how much his service cost.
in labour and toil, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness.
Rivals at Corinth were measuring themselves against Paul. He answers with a list none of them would want: not honours, but the daily wear on his body in Christ's service. Why would a man prove his ministry by naming his hunger, his sleepless nights and his missing coat?
Paul hated talking about himself. But silence would have left the Corinthians to men who traded on outward advantages.
Boasting was not the way of the Lord. Boasting in the Lord is what suits every believer, and the apostle shrank from boasting in anything else, perhaps more than any other man. But the false apostles were dishonouring the Lord and damaging the saints. They pushed forward their human advantages: a fine appearance, power of mind, a lively imagination, ready speech, tricks of rhetoric, money of their own, family connections, social position, and the like.
Behind "toil and hardship" stand two Greek words. One of them carries the sweat of ordinary human labour, and Paul used it of his own night work.
μόχθος (mochthos, from μογέω, "to labour, be in distress") occurs three times in the New Testament. Some have judged that it means the toil that is the lot of man in this world of sin. It answers to "By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread." Paul's own use seems to confirm this. Twice he uses it of his labours, when he had to work night and day on top of his apostolic work (1 Thess. 2:9; 2 Thess. 3:8). In 2 Cor. 11:27 it is joined with κόπος (kopos), where Paul describes his life of labour and toil — "weariness and painfulness" in older versions.
The verse lists hunger and thirst, then lists going without food separately — "fastings often" in older versions. That is not repetition. The difference shows where the empty stomach came from.
In 2 Corinthians "fasting" is set apart from "hunger and thirst" — suffering he chose, as against suffering he could not avoid. No. The apostle's "labours, watchings, fastings" had to do with the gospel and the church, and with individual souls. They stood far above the circumstances of his trade, good or bad.
Both kinds ran together in his life, and the lack of clothing was as literal as the hunger.
On top of danger came hardships, both chosen and unchosen. He disciplined himself as a matter of habit, while serving Christ as a true soldier laid constant hardship on his body. For Christ's sake he spent many nights awake. Often, while less eager but genuine fellow-workers were at ease, he was hungry and burning with thirst. Robbers may have taken his few clothes; or he may have been too poor — while making many rich — to buy himself a coat. Either way he came very near his Master (Matt. 8:20) in knowing what it is to have nothing.
Read as a résumé, the list is a strange one. It proves nothing about Paul's ability — which is exactly its point.
Added to all the dangers the apostle met were many and frequent discomforts… Who would welcome such a life? But he endured it willingly for Christ… Notice, though, that he is not boasting of what people would call great achievements. He boasts in the things that humble the vessel… All of this shows him to be helplessly dependent on the living God, who proves Himself completely faithful in caring for His servant.
Paul's endurance was real. But one writer sets it beside the service of Christ, and Paul comes second.
Paul spoke truly of his own ministry in the gospel, carried on in toil and hardship, sleepless nights, hunger and thirst, times without food, cold and exposure (2 Cor. 11:27). But in all these respects he was only an imperfect imitator of the self-denying service of Christ. Like his Master, though, he was kept going in his devotion by that secret food which the world knows nothing of (John 4:31-34).
- Forced. Paul lists his hardships only because rivals were pushing their own looks, speech, money and social standing — and damaging the saints.
- Costly. "Toil and hardship" renders two words for grinding labour. Paul carried it night and day, on top of his apostolic work.
- Chosen. Going without food is listed apart from hunger and thirst. Some of his emptiness he chose for the gospel; some came with the road.
- Humbling. The list records no achievements. It shows a vessel emptied, and a man wholly dependent on a God who proved faithful.
- Derived. Every line brought him near his Master. Yet he was only an imperfect copy of the Servant fed by food the world knows nothing of.
Besides those things that are without, the crowd [of cares] pressing on me daily, the burden of all the assemblies.
Paul closes a long list of outward hardships by naming one more thing — and it is not something done to his body. It is a weight that arrives every day, and one writer calls it the most wearing suffering of all.
One writer notes that Paul's list was not complete, and shows how its last phrase explains the pressure named before it:
This was not by any means a complete account. Anxiety for all the assemblies is the explanation added to that daily care which pressed on the apostle.
The word "care" here is not a job description. It describes what the churches did to his heart:
"The care of all the churches" (v. 28) is not the taking care of them, but care for them, as now for Corinth. It is wonderful to see the power of the apostle. He could take up all the highest doctrines and yet go into detail about all these other things. In us the tendency is to get weary when we see one or two gatherings going wrong.
Beatings reached his body. This reached his mind.
If his outward trials and afflictions were both heavy and abundant, there were others of a still more painful kind… His outward trials were hard, but they left his mind untroubled, though his flesh might shrink or tremble. Personal danger or physical suffering could not take away his spirit's rest. He could sing at midnight in his chains, with his wounds unwashed. But anxiety about his brothers and sisters filled him with dismay.
What made it wearing was not one crisis but the endless small friction of life among believers:
The most wearing sufferings of all were, we venture to think, those he speaks of last — the care of all the churches. He had to bear with the weakness of the weak. He had to listen again and again to the complaints of the offended, correct the foolishness of believers, and contend for the truth against false brothers. All this must have been the most testing thing of all. Yet he did it.
One commentator raises the obvious objection to a care this wide, and answers it:
"The care of all the churches!" Was he reaching beyond his measure in claiming a charge that covered them all? Love knows no limits, while duty keeps faithfully to its own path.
Paul carries this load without asking for relief. The same writer draws a line between that care and a careless imitation of it:
A man of trust must also be a man of care. Great indeed was the honour attached to his office. He bore it without complaint, in the sustaining strength of Him who does not faint and is not weary. He did not ask to be freed from it: it was his burden, but it was also his glory. Yet it lay on him day after day. These thoughtless, self-satisfied Corinthians hardly dreamed of its weight. Mark well the difference, for our own practice, between two things. One is true godly care and concern about the things of Christ, rooted in faith. The other is a false-hearted carelessness that throws away the sense of personal responsibility, under the excuse of casting all its burdens on the Lord.
Paul's churches had real problems. His answer to trouble differs from a common instinct today:
There was "the care of all the churches." There were the weak. There were those who gave offence and those who took it. These things pressed in on him daily. The churches were not little paradises, even when Paul was among them. Too often nowadays when people find something not right in a meeting, they run away. Paul did not run away; he prayerfully set himself to meet the difficulty.
Such love cannot stop at the few believers we happen to like:
Paul's real anxiety, his watchfulness and care for the Church, brought him into much difficulty and conflict. He passed many a sleepless night because he cared for it so… In us there can be no true energy of love in the Spirit towards one believer apart from the rest. We shall find ourselves connected with all saints. Christ loves all saints. If we shut up our love to one, or even to a set number — it does not matter how many — we shut ourselves into narrowness of spirit. We lose part of the largeness of Christian love.
- Pressure. The verse names a daily weight: anxious concern for all the churches. It sits on top of everything already listed.
- Care. Not running the churches, but feeling for them. Paul handled the highest doctrine and the smallest local detail with the same heart.
- Deeper. Chains and beatings left his mind at rest; he could sing in prison. Trouble among believers filled him with dismay.
- Wider. "All the churches" was no overreach — love has no boundary line, even while duty keeps to its own path.
- Costlier. He never asked for relief. The burden was also his glory. He did not walk away from troubled churches; he prayed and faced the difficulty.