For in what is it that ye have been inferior to the other assemblies, unless that I myself have not been in laziness a charge upon you? Forgive me this injury.
Paul refused to take money from the church at Corinth, and some there held it against him. He turns the complaint into a question, then asks their pardon for it — with a sting.
Only one thing set Corinth below the other churches.
There was nothing, then, in which they were behind the other assemblies. The one exception was the independence from them that he seemed to show. If that was a wrong, they must forgive him for it. For him it was only the independence of a parent who seeks his children's good rather than their service.
The plea for pardon is not a real confession.
When he was with them, he took care not to be a financial burden in any way. Yet he had taken help from other churches. He speaks again with a tinge of irony in saying, "forgive me this wrong." He intended to continue on the same lines.
Some at Corinth admired teachers who charged them.
For all his apostolic power, he had not fleeced them to press the weight of his office on their minds — a style of pastoring that seemed to attract them. He had not even let them do what other churches did, who gladly gave to his support... He held back from using his undoubted rights as a labourer worthy of his hire. This, he acknowledged, was a wrong they might well resent. So he asks forgiveness — but in the spirit of a man who confesses while planning to do it again.
One reason lay in the state Corinth was in.
He could look for support from the church of God, but he preferred to work with his own hands. So in the second letter to the Corinthians he begs them to forgive the wrong. He would not accept anything from them. They were not in a state to be trusted with such a gift. Their state was what it was, and God so overruled it in His ways that the apostle received nothing from them. He uses this fact to humble them because of their pride and immorality.
A second reason involved rival teachers.
Later there was another special reason why the apostle would not take money from the Corinthians. False teachers wanted to profit from Paul's work, and they pretended to work without taking anything. Paul wanted to remove every chance of influence from these evil men. They were not to claim anything that was not just as true of him.
What Paul did at Corinth was the exception, not his rule for gospel workers.
He would not take from the Corinthians because they were fond of money. But he speaks of it as a wrong, and as something out of the ordinary. He did take from others for the gospel's sake. In 1 Corinthians 9 he treats the whole matter on the ground that those who preach the gospel should live by the gospel.
Paul's refusal ran one way: he took the loss, they took the benefit.
He lowered himself to lift them up. Was this an offence, a sin? He had accepted help from other churches, above all the Macedonian ones. He speaks of this as robbing, or plundering, them — still the language of irony, of course. He had done the Corinthians the greatest possible service, and it cost them nothing.
- Nothing lacking. Corinth lacked nothing the other churches had. The one place they came up short was the money Paul never took.
- The "wrong" is love. He asks pardon for refusing their money. One writer notes that he plans to commit the same fault again.
- Refusal had reasons. Their state made them unfit for such a gift. Taking nothing also left the rival teachers no hold over him.
- A choice, not a rule. Paul held that those who preach the gospel should live by the gospel. At Corinth he let his own right go.
- Parent, not pensioner. The whole stance is a father's: he stays free of his children so he can spend on them, not live off them.
Behold, this third time I am ready to come to you, and I will not be in laziness a charge; for I do not seek yours, but you; for the children ought not to lay up for the parents, but the parents for the children.
Paul is writing ahead of a visit to Corinth, and the subject is money — his own refusal to take any of theirs. Behind his words about parents and children lies a defence of his motives: what does a servant of God want from the people he serves?
Readers have puzzled over the count of visits. One writer explains that it counts intentions, not arrivals.
His planned visit was the third in purpose, not in fact. His second intention had remained unfulfilled, for the reasons already given. He was ready before, and held back only for their sakes. Now he was ready once more, and if he came, they would find him still unchanged. He will be at his own expense, and not theirs.
Paul had a right to support. His refusal at Corinth was not a rule he kept everywhere. It came from the spirit he found in that assembly.
The apostle was ready to preach the gospel everywhere at any cost to himself. In some places he felt free and happy to receive, not only from people but from assemblies, going on with God in grace and humility. When the world's spirit prevailed, he held back and would receive nothing. The general principle remained intact: "the labourer deserves his wages." But the apostle, while laying down what is right, could and did go beyond it in grace. He used his right not for himself but for Christ wherever His glory called for it. From the poor Macedonian brothers he received; from the wealthy Corinthians nothing.
The same writer shows what giving up that right cost him, and whose pattern he followed.
If he now at last revisited Corinth, the servant would still hold to the portion of his Master, and give instead of receive. He had a right to live by the gospel and to be cared for by the assembly. Yet he would give that right up among people who might misuse or misunderstand it, to Christ's dishonour. He would be like a parent in unselfish affection to his children. He would fare as the One whose love grew as others hated. How remarkably close was Paul's "imitation" of Christ!
Paul takes his illustration from ordinary family life. Scripture applies that family life in both directions.
He will not change his practice when he comes. He will still receive no support from them, for he does not seek what they have, but themselves — that is, their true welfare according to God. And he applies to this a natural, normal principle, that of parents providing for their children, rather than the reverse. He was doing this. We must not forget the other side of the truth either, as 1 Timothy 5:4 shows. If parents are in need, their children are responsible to relieve them, if they have the means.
People often use the line about parents laying up for children to justify piling up money. One writer answers them.
How glad people are when they get a semblance of Scripture authority for their worldliness! In this passage it is only a semblance of authority. The apostle is not teaching Christians to hoard. He is not teaching heavenly people to lay up treasure on earth, for any purpose. He only refers to a common practice in the world and a common feeling in nature. He uses it to illustrate his own way of dealing with the Corinthians, who were his children in the faith. He had not burdened them, and he would not burden them, for he was the parent.
It is sad that Paul had to defend himself over money. Yet he stoops to meet their suspicion, because love bears it.
If they had fallen behind other churches in any proof of his apostleship, it was in this: they had contributed nothing to his support. He was coming again. This proof would still be missing. He would spend himself for them, like a kind father, even though the more he loved, the less they loved him… It is sad work when someone is above these miserable motives and ways of judging things, and full of the divine and glorious motives of Christ. Yet he must come down to the motives that fill the selfish hearts of the people he deals with. But love must bear all things.
- Ready. The third time is the third intention, not the third arrival. Coming again, he would come unchanged — at his own expense, not theirs.
- Relinquished. The right to support stood firm as a principle. Paul gave up his own claim where the world's spirit made taking it dishonour Christ.
- Reversed. He would not take from Corinth what he took from poor Macedonia. The giving flowed toward the weaker, as a parent's does toward a child.
- Wanted. He wanted the Corinthians themselves, not their money. He kept spending himself as a father, even when their love came back thinner than his own.
- Misused. The line about parents laying up is an illustration from ordinary life, not permission to hoard. Children still owe help to needy parents (1 Timothy 5:4).
Now *I* shall most gladly spend and be utterly spent for your souls, if even in abundantly loving you I should be less loved.
Paul is getting ready to visit Corinth again. He tells a church that has grown cool toward him what he plans to bring: not a bill, but himself. Two things sit side by side in the verse — love poured out without limit, and a return that keeps shrinking.
Paul had every right to ask this church for support. He let that right go. One writer explains the choice:
If he did visit Corinth now, the servant would still hold to the portion of his Master. He would give rather than receive. He had the right to live by the gospel and to be cared for by the assembly. But he would give up that right among people who might misuse it or misunderstand it, and so dishonour Christ. He would be like a parent in unselfish affection to his children.
The two verbs move outward, then inward. First he spends what he has. Then he lets himself be used up — and he spends it on their souls.
He was ready to expend vital and spiritual energy if only he could be a help to them.
The second verb costs more. It is also what people outside the church notice:
Think of a man who gives up the best place by choice, though he has a clear right to it. He lets go of his own advantage. At his own cost he goes out of his way to show kindness to others. He becomes poor, and does not just give out of what he has to spare, for the sake of Christ's people whose needs he meets. He not only spends, but is spent for others. Then indeed he becomes a letter from Christ, known and read by everyone.
The second half of the verse is the test. Paul's love did not run on the fuel of appreciation.
Paul was truly a father in Christ, his heart well saturated with divine love, so he could love the unloving, just as God does. The natural tendency of our hearts is the exact opposite. We are perhaps kindly disposed towards certain people, and show them various favours. They take it all, but stay cool and unappreciative. We are annoyed, and announce that we are finished with them! It was not so with Paul. Even if things got so bad that their response only decreased as his love increased, he would go on expressing that love in the most practical way of all. He would spend and be spent for them.
Where does such love come from? Not from the response it gets. Notice the piled-up wording of the verse — most gladly, spend and be spent:
Note the strength of the language, the superlative he uses — "most gladly spend and be spent." He did not love because he was loved. He loved because he was strong in the divine nature.
Paul does not argue about the unfairness. He accepts it and carries on.
"The less I am loved!" Sad indeed. "But be it so." How big-hearted! Could three small words hold a fuller volume of settled, inexhaustible love? They tell of a heart that was independent of the people it served. Their return might be rejection, coldness, suspicion or indifference. The river would still flow on unchecked.
Paul is not the origin of this love; he is a small copy of it. Commenting on Jesus weeping over Jerusalem, one writer measures the servant against the Master:
If His servant could say that the more he loved, the less he was loved, how much more fully true was it of the Master! The disciple was like his Master; but the Master was infinitely perfect.
The verse turns into a usable measure. Someone else's shortfall becomes the size of your supply:
How much love should I have for my brother? Enough to make up for what he lacks. Didn't the great apostle set us the example?
- Source. Paul loved the unloving because he was drawing on divine love, not on the love returned to him.
- Spend. He gave up his right to support and chose to give rather than receive, like a parent providing for children.
- Be spent. Beyond giving things, he offered himself to be used up — and that is the point where onlookers read Christ in a life.
- "Be it so." He accepted coldness, suspicion and indifference instead of arguing back. The river of love flowed on unchecked.
- Pattern. What was true of the servant was truer still of the Master. That sets our measure: love enough to make up for what the other lacks.
But be it so. *I* did not burden you, but being crafty I took you by guile.
Paul had just told the Corinthians he would take no money from them. Here he repeats the sneer his critics built on that very refusal — was he confessing to trickery, or quoting their words back at them?
Is Paul confessing to trickery here? One writer answers that he is repeating a slander, not making one.
This is the cheap insult that deceitful workers whispered among the Corinthian believers. They wanted to blacken the apostle's name and lift themselves up. They dared to say that, if he did not burden them directly, he all the more craftily reaped what he could through Titus and others. No one sinks so low as those who profess to be Christians while estranged and self-seeking. In short, these are not the apostle's words but his enemies' words. He exposes them for our warning. He calls this speaking of his "folly," because it was about himself and not about Christ, and their wickedness forced him to it.
Paul does not argue the charge down. He hands it straight back to their own consciences by asking whether anyone he sent ever took a penny.
It is strange that anyone can plead such a sentence as proof that a Christian may rightly use trickery. He is speaking here of the very thing they charge him with. He throws it back at once with the questions that follow. Did he show his craft by making a profit from them through the men he sent — the profit he would not take himself? He had sent Titus, and a brother with him. Had Titus made a gain of them? Had they not walked in the same spirit and in the same steps?
The suspicion says more about the accusers than about Paul.
Trickery like that was far from his soul. Yet the accusers seemed by no means above it themselves, since they suspected him. What will malice in the heart not dare to think and say?
Paul's refusal was deliberate, but it was not his rule everywhere.
The apostle was ready to preach the gospel everywhere, at any cost to himself. In some places he was free and glad to receive support — not only from people, but from assemblies walking with God in grace and humility. Where the world's spirit ruled, he held back and would take nothing. The general principle stood untouched: "the laborer deserves his wages"; "the Lord commanded that those who proclaim the gospel should get their living by the gospel." But the apostle laid down what was right, and then went beyond it in grace. He used that right not for himself but for Christ, wherever His glory called for it. From the poor Macedonian brothers he received; from the wealthy Corinthians, nothing.
Because the words sound like a confession, people have used them to license deceit. Church history records one shameless example.
A pope wrote to his officials in Toulouse. He used the apostle's words to excuse his own deceit: "Nevertheless, being crafty, I caught you with guile." He writes: "We advise you, with the apostle Paul, to use guile with this count. In this case it ought to be called prudence. We must attack one by one those who have broken away from unity. Leave the count of Toulouse alone for a time. Keep up a pretence towards him, so that the other heretics may be defeated more easily, and that afterwards we may crush him."
The older wording behind that misuse — "being crafty, I caught you with guile" — reads like a boast. The ESV marks it as a quotation with the words "you say."
Why keep such an ugly scene on record? So that we can measure ourselves by it.
A believer has many sides. You cannot judge him fairly by one appearance, and it is the same with churches as with people. Seen from one angle, the state of the Corinthian believers was very satisfactory and full of hope. Seen from another side, they look morally repulsive. These things stand before us as a warning and an encouragement. That is why unattractive passages of Scripture like this one matter. We are no better than they were. But if we take their example to heart, we may escape their disgrace in our own day of testing.
- The words — the line about craft and deceit is his opponents' slander, quoted back at them. It is not a confession.
- The motive — self-seeking teachers smeared him to lift themselves up. No one sinks lower than someone who professes Christ but serves himself.
- The reply — he answers with questions, not argument: did Titus or any messenger ever make a gain of you?
- The refusal — he took support from the poor Macedonians and nothing from rich Corinth. He went beyond his rights for Christ's sake.
- The warning — read as a licence for deceit, the verse has served real treachery. Read properly, it is a mirror. It shows how low suspicion dragged believers who were no worse than we are.
Did I make gain of you by any of those whom I have sent to you?
A whisper was going round Corinth. Paul took no money from the church himself, it said, but he drained them through the men he sent. In this verse he hands the charge back as a question, and the answer rests on Titus and the brother who travelled with him.
The verse before this one sounds like a confession of trickery. One commentator insists those words belong to Paul's opponents, not to Paul:
This is the low insult that deceitful workers whispered among the Corinthian saints. They wanted to blacken the apostle's name and raise their own. They dared to say this: if he did not burden them himself, he was all the more crafty in reaping what he could through Titus and others. No one sinks so low as those who claim to be Christians but are estranged and out for themselves. In short, it is the language, not of the apostle, but of his adversaries, whom he exposes for our warning.
That reading matters. Some have used the verse to defend cleverness in a Christian:
It is strange that anyone can use such a sentence as an argument that a Christian may rightly use guile. He is speaking here of the very thing they charge him with. He throws it off at once by the questions that follow. Had he shown his guile by making a gain of them through the men he sent — the gain he would not make himself?
Paul does not argue, protest, or return the insult. He asks a question and leaves it with them:
Such suspicions must surprise us. The way Paul meets them here is just as admirable. Christ when reviled did not revile back, and when unjustly struck He asked only for the evidence of the wrong. Grace sustains the servant here in his Master's steps. Truth is never loud in its own defence. These absurd hints were believed, and believing them was both unworthy and harmful. The apostle gives no other answer than the most effective one. He hands the accusation back to their own consciences as a question.
Paul does not stop at denying the charge. He points to two men the Corinthians had watched with their own eyes:
Here the apostle heads off a cunning and harmful hint. Some might charge him with gaining an advantage in a roundabout way, through his friends. Such dishonour he refuses. Guile like that was far from his soul. His accusers seemed by no means above it, though, if they could suspect him of it. What will malice in the heart not dare to think and say? They knew well that Titus and his companion walked among them with a self-denial like his own.
How could believers think such a thing of Paul? Because a church, like a person, has more than one side:
A saint is a many-sided character. You cannot judge him rightly by a few appearances, and what is true of people is true of churches. Seen from one angle, the state of the Corinthian saints was very satisfactory and full of hope. Seen from another, the picture they present is morally revolting. These things are set before us for our warning and our encouragement... We are no better than they, but by paying attention to their example we may escape their reproach in our own day of testing.
Paul could ask this question because he had already removed every ground for it. Faith did not make him careless:
It was not enough for him here that God knew everything, so that he could leave it to Him to clear his name in His own time and way. Where there were steps that could be taken to prevent even suspicion, he would take them — and not taking them might itself have caused suspicion. This is an important principle for us to notice. Here was a man whose faith in God stood out above others, yet he would not act on that faith alone in a matter of this kind.
The same care belongs to anyone handling money among God's people today:
Indeed, the more honest a man is, the more he should want others to examine his actions closely. So too, those trusted to handle money in a church should make sure that others check the amounts and the use of any funds.
- Charge: The talk of craft and guile is his opponents' slander, quoted back at them, not Paul's confession.
- Question: He does not protest. He hands the accusation back to their consciences, as Christ did not revile in return.
- Witness: His proof is Titus and the brother with him. The Corinthians had watched both men live in the same self-denial.
- Mirror: The same church could look full of hope on one side and morally revolting on another. Scripture sets that record before us as a warning.
- Precaution: Paul would not rest on God knowing all. He shut down suspicion before it could start — the standard for anyone handling money today.
I begged Titus, and sent the brother with [him] did Titus at all make gain of you? have we not walked in the same spirit? [have we] not in the same steps?
Paul ends his defence to the Corinthians with a set of questions about money. He had sent Titus and another brother to them. Now he asks whether either man had taken anything from them. Behind the questions lies an ugly suspicion. Had a preacher who refused open payment been collecting it in secret through his friends?
Some at Corinth turned Paul's refusal of support into evidence against him. One writer traces their reasoning.
They suspected him of this: because he took no support from them, he was first trying to win them as his own followers by seeming unselfish. Later he would reap some material benefit from them. Those with selfish minds set on material things will always suspect selfish motives in others too. Did they not understand the true working of the Spirit of God in the Lord's servant?
Paul names a man the Corinthians knew well. Titus had been sent to them, and Paul had trusted him with a collection of money.
A Greek convert, Paul's "true child in a common faith." Paul describes him to the Corinthian church as "my partner and fellow worker for your benefit." He had been sent to Corinth, and from there brought word of the effect of Paul's first letter to the church there. He was also employed by Paul to get ready the collection for the poor believers in Judea.
The two questions at the end of the verse point back to what the Corinthians had seen for themselves.
Here the apostle blocks a sly and spiteful hint. Some might charge him with using his friends to gain an advantage behind the scenes. Such dishonour he refuses. Guile like that was far from his soul. Yet the accusers seemed by no means above it, if they suspected him of it. What will malice in the heart not dare to think and say? They well knew that Titus and his companion walked among them with a self-denial like his own.
The verse answers the charge with questions, not with a loud defence. One writer sees the pattern of Christ in that restraint.
Such suspicions must surprise us. The way he meets them here is just as admirable. When men insulted Christ, He did not insult them back. When they struck Him unjustly, He only asked for evidence of the wrong (John 18:22). Grace here holds the servant to his Master's steps. Truth is never loud in its own defence. These insinuations were absurd, and the Corinthians held them to their own shame and to his hurt. The apostle answers them in the one way that works best. He hands the accusation back to their own consciences as a question.
But should the Lord's servants not be supported? One writer answers by pointing at how Paul lived.
But you say, the servants of the Lord must be supported. Certainly. Look at this dear man of God, and see how he was supported. He supported himself by making tents, and I guarantee they were the best tents on the market (Acts 18:3). He would not give any man a chance of saying, Paul was paid for it, or, I have made Paul rich. He kept himself. And I think the man who earns his bread by an honest trade, and then gives himself to the work of the Lord, is the happiest and freest of men. He depends on no man but his Master. Paul would not take a penny from the Corinthians (see 1 Cor. 9:15, 18; 2 Cor. 11:7-9), though he laid down the rule that the servant should be supported. He laid it down for others and gave it up for himself.
The same writer will not let the reader treat Corinth as someone else's problem.
Besides, the low and filthy spirit exposed here is only a part of ourselves. Let the reader who is astonished by this passage look a little more closely at the forms of Christian life around him. His surprise will either stop and turn to silent sorrow, or it will fasten on some nearer target than the Church of God at Corinth. Is the charging of wrong motives such a rare thing in modern Christianity? Would to God it were!
- Slander — His critics twisted Paul's refusal of payment into proof that he was collecting through go-betweens. Selfish minds read selfishness into everyone.
- Witnesses — He answers with a name the Corinthians knew. Titus was his partner and fellow-worker, sent to them and trusted with the collection.
- Steps — The proof was public. Titus and his companion had walked among them with the same self-denial as Paul.
- Restraint — He does not shout his defence. He hands the accusation back as a question, and keeps to his Master's steps.
- Mirror — Charging others with wrong motives is not an old Corinthian oddity. It is a common failing, and this passage exposes it in us.