2 Corinthians 2:6–8

It is clear that they had obeyed Paul's instructions to put the man away. Now it is just as serious that the man be restored. The discipline had reached its proper end. It led the man to judge himself and to stop his sin.

This, of course, is the end that discipline is designed to reach. Discipline does not fall on believers who go wrong just to punish them. It aims to bring them to repentance and so restore them, both in their souls and to their place of fellowship among God's people. This happy end was reached in the case of the offender at Corinth.

He adds that the rebuke or punishment already inflicted by the many was enough. That would not be true if they had not carried out the sentence of exclusion. Not a word suggests that a lighter rebuke, short of that, had stopped the evil and brought the wrongdoer to repentance.

The main point here is that God's discipline in His house takes its true effect through the fellowship of the church. An apostle could and did deal directly with an evildoer or a teacher of false doctrine when that was needed (1 Tim. 1:20). But God's normal way of censuring a Christian is by the shared decision of his fellow believers… The punishment was enough because his own brothers, by a solemn act of the whole assembly, had driven the offender out of the fold of Christ. He was cut off from the assembly of His saints — not from the Lord, whose discipline is part of the mercy He has promised.

As to a majority in discipline: I know nothing of majorities. I know Christ's authority, joined to the working of the Holy Spirit… If a godly man moved by the fear of God has a serious and real difficulty, the assembly may wait for him. Then the action is the act of "the many" (2 Cor. 2:6), the act of the conscience of the body, for they have to prove themselves clear in the matter. Among the Corinthians the wrongdoer stood alone and was deeply humbled, and "the many" meant them all… A majority can never act as such.

What wisdom we need, in practical matters, to hold the balance between the claims of righteousness and love. We must remember that all discipline comes in righteousness, whether God Himself gives it or men do, and its aim is to produce repentance. When repentance comes, love claims the right to reign. Let us not keep striking a repentant soul in discipline, or we may come under God's discipline ourselves.

On the other hand, the assembly needs to guard against a hard, unforgiving spirit. When the consciences of all are satisfied, they should confirm their love to their recovered brother without needless delay… How gracious, how loving, and yet how holy, are all these directions!

It is clear that they had obeyed Paul's instructions to put away the man. Now it is just as serious that the man be restored. The discipline had done its proper work: it led the man to judge himself and stop his sin... Now they are to forgive him openly, and comfort or encourage him. Otherwise discipline could be pushed so far that it swallows the man up in sorrow.

The apostle directs the assembly to forgive him. The punishment had been enough, and they were again to show their love to him. This was no question of his being the righteousness of God, or of his part in it. It was a question of the government of the Church, and of keeping it holy here below. While he lived in his wickedness the man could not enjoy the blessed privileges that belonged to the assembly. They had put him out; now, humbled and repentant, he was to be forgiven.

The danger now was that the Corinthian assembly, in their zeal against his sin, would overlook his sorrow. They would not forgive him as an assembly and give him back his place among them... Sorrow for sin is good; yet there is a point where it becomes too much and does harm — a point where sorrow should stop and the man should know the joy of forgiveness. The joy of the Lord, and not sorrow for sin, is our strength.

They needed now to show grace and encourage, in case the one in question should be swallowed up with the excessive grief he seemed to be showing. It is quite possible for us to swing from one extreme to the other — from being too lax to being too hard. Both extremes come from a lack of true love. Real love will neither make light of the evil, nor lose sight of its aim, which is to win the sinner away from his sin.

Overwhelming sorrow came upon the man, and Satan, ever watchful, tried to turn it to his own purpose. Had the man destroyed himself, it would have been no wonder, Satan being at work. But God's end would not have been gained. Paul writes to the assembly again: "My grief is past; your chastening of the man has broken him down, he is overwhelmed; receive him, and restore him; I beg you, confirm your love to him."

This is what the devil was doing. The apostle had insisted on putting the man out (1 Cor. 5:3-5), and the church did not like it. He forced them to act; they carried it out as a judgment, and then did not want to restore him (2 Cor. 2:6-7). So he makes them go with him in the act of restoration... Satan's plan was to bring the wickedness in, to make them careless about it, and afterwards to make them act as mere judges.

He does not at all speak as a spiritual dictator, however real and great the authority given him of the Lord... It would have brought the assembly no real healing if they had forgiven the offender only because the apostle had forgiven him and told them to. When the open evil went unjudged, he did command that the man be put out. But now that grace had worked all round... he wants them to forgive, and he will go with them in it. It is not, therefore, "whom I forgive, you also," but "to whom you forgive anything, I also."

He takes great care to insist on their own part in ratifying love, even while he uses his apostolic authority to lay down their duty. He wants to share in the act with them all the way through. When it came to mercy, he would follow their lead. What he had forgiven, if he had forgiven anything, he forgave for their sake, in the person of Christ.

The apostle's counsel called for this work of restoration, but only they themselves could carry it out. If their hearts were not in it, the work would be done in vain. So Paul's words fit the situation exactly. As one who insists on righteousness, he is firm and precise. When he speaks of grace to the offender, he only reasons and persuades. He no longer commands; he pleads.

The work of restoration, like every other work of God, must be complete. It must be as perfect and decisive as the act of judgment. The restored offender is not just to be tolerated; he is to be welcomed back with affection. If their hearts were right, his absence must have been the grief of all, and his return should be their common joy.

The danger now was that the Corinthian assembly, in their zeal against his sin, would overlook his sorrow. As an assembly they would not forgive him and restore him to his place among them. So Paul now has to write, urging them to do this and so confirm their love toward him. Otherwise too much sorrow might overwhelm him. Sorrow for sin is good. Yet there is a point where it can become excessive and harmful — a point where sorrow should stop and the man should know the joy of forgiveness. The joy of the Lord, and not sorrow for sin, is our strength.

Paul had to urge the Corinthian believers to forgive him, to comfort him, to confirm their love to him. The flesh often likes to be hard. Only the Holy Spirit of God can lead us to restore someone who has strayed, who has sinned and repented. He is the spirit of love and grace, and yet of faithfulness to the Lord. It is easier to cut off than to restore, easier to pull down than to build.

It is quite possible for us to swing from one extreme to the other — from being too lax to being too rigid. Both really spring out of a lack of true love. True love will not make light of the evil on the one hand, nor lose sight of its object on the other, which is to win the sinner from his sin.

But there was also a danger of Satan getting an advantage over the saints. At first he threatened the assembly by bringing in moral evil. Here his threat is different: he works to produce in believers a self-righteous attitude that will not forgive, even when repentance is clear. Satan's devices are many and cunning: the apostles were not ignorant of these, and neither should we be.