Do we begin again to commend ourselves? or do we need, as some, commendatory letters to you, or [commendatory] from you?
Paul has just defended the honesty of his preaching. Now he stops himself: does that sound like self-promotion? His question opens a chapter about what proves that a ministry comes from God. The answer is people, not paper.
Opponents in Corinth denied that Paul was a true apostle. Defending himself forced him into words that can sound like boasting.
The evil in the Corinthian church had troubled Paul greatly, as we see in 2 Corinthians 2:17. Some were disputing his apostleship, and he was forced to speak of himself. … This leads him to use an expression that shows well the character of the Christian: "You are our letter." It is as if he says, "If I want a letter of commendation, I only have to say, look at the Corinthians."
The custom was familiar and accepted. The problem was who demanded it of him, and why.
It was customary in the church to give letters of commendation (Acts 18:27; Romans 16:1). Did the apostle need, as some others did, letters of commendation to the Corinthians, or such letters from them? Probably it was his enemies who demanded such letters — teachers who upheld the law and its ordinances. They may have said: he did not come from Jerusalem; who then is Paul? Why has he no letters of commendation?
A good custom can still be twisted. One writer names the danger on both sides:
Then, as now, there was clearly a practice of giving and receiving letters that commend visiting believers to the assemblies. It is a valuable means of introduction and also a safeguard, provided we hold it in spirit and not in letter. Otherwise we might fail in two ways. We might refuse those who ought to be received, when circumstances have prevented the necessary letter. Or we might receive deceivers, who can supply themselves with any letter that will mislead all the more effectively. The aim of all such arrangements is to give the assembly of God enough testimony. The assembly is in no way bound to a form, however good, when the letter is missing, provided other means give godly satisfaction and leave no reasonable hesitation to those who judge fairly and in love. It does harm when legalism twists something God uses for our mutual comfort into an instrument of spiritual torture. That sometimes happens over a missing letter of commendation, or some similar irregularity.
Paul's credential was the church he had been used to found. What makes his choice striking is which church he picked.
What confidence he must have had in the gracious power of God, that his letter of commendation could be the Corinthian saints! He does not look around to choose the most striking examples of those converted through him. He takes what was perhaps the most humbling scene he had ever experienced. He points even to these saints as a letter of commendation. And why? Because he knew the power of life in Christ.
This confidence rests on recent news from Corinth.
At this time they were doing well. They had received the first letter, and the apostle had seen Titus and learned that it had produced its effect. They were brought back to a right walk. His heart went out to them (2 Corinthians 7:11), and he could say, "You are our letter." He could hardly have said this in the first letter, though he was the means of their conversion.
Paul's answer was not only an argument. It also told the Corinthians what place they held with him.
He speaks of them as a letter in two ways. First, as written on his own heart. In saying this, we believe he wanted them to realise how deeply they were engraved, as it were, on his affections. They little realised the intensity of his love in Christ for them.
Paul's reputation is not the end of it. The Corinthians commended him because they commended Christ, and that makes the point true of every believer.
They were Paul's letter of commendation because they were Christ's letter of commendation. … He sets Christians in contrast with the law. The Christian is a person in whose heart Christ is engraved. Just as people could read the ten commandments on the tablets of stone, so they are to read Christ in you.
- Attacked — some in Corinth denied that Paul was an apostle, so he had to speak about himself.
- Asked — letters of recommendation were a real and useful custom, but his opponents demanded one, asking why he brought none from Jerusalem.
- Answered — his proof was living people. He pointed to the church that had cost him the most grief, because he knew the power of life in Christ.
- Affection — he could say it only now that they were walking well, and he said it warmly: they were engraved on his affections.
- Advanced — they recommended him because they recommended Christ. The law was cut in stone; Christ is written on hearts, for all to read.
*Ye* are our letter, written in our hearts, known and read of all men,
Rival teachers at Corinth accused Paul of promoting himself. They wanted the credentials that travelling workers usually carried. He offers no document at all. The Corinthians themselves are his letter, written on his heart.
Letters of recommendation were normal in the church. Paul's critics used their absence against him.
It was customary in the church to give letters of commendation (Acts 18:27; Romans 16:1). Did the Apostle need letters of commendation to the Corinthians, as others did? Or such letters from them? Probably his enemies demanded them — the teachers who pressed the law of Moses and its rules. They may have said, he did not come from Jerusalem; who then is Paul? Why has he not letters of commendation?
Paul's answer to the demand for paperwork was to point at people. Their changed lives were the proof. The timing mattered too — he could not have said this in his first letter.
He had them so much on his heart, that, if people asked him for proof of his apostleship, he just said, Look at the Corinthians. At this time they were going on well. They had received the first letter, and the apostle had seen Titus, and learnt that it had done its work. It had brought them back to a right walk. His heart was open wide towards them (2 Cor. 7:11), and he could say, "You yourselves are our letter." He could hardly have said this in the first letter, though he was the means of their conversion.
Two things stand side by side here. The writing on Paul's heart was already complete and permanent. The public reading was still going on.
He adds, with as much beauty as affection, "You yourselves are our letter." They were not in the process of being "written." That was already done, and it stood permanently "on our hearts." Meanwhile they were only becoming "known and read by all," and in the same way it was becoming clear that they were Christ's letter.
They were Paul's letter because they were first Christ's letter. So the world learns what Christ is like by watching people.
Any gathering of the saints is the letter of Christ, "to be read by all." They are His letter of recommendation to the world. The world needs to find out what Christ is from the lives of the saints. They might learn it from the word, it is true. The unspoken contrast with the law, "written on tablets of stone," shows how important this place of witness is. The ten commandments declared the mind of God while the law was in force. In the same way, the church is now the engraving of Christ.
There is a reason this matters. People may question the Bible, or misunderstand it when they do read it.
It is true that the world can form some estimate of Christ from the Word of God. But people may question the Word, or fail to understand it even when they read it. So besides the Word, God intends the lives of His people to present Christ, "known and read by all."
Paul states this as something already true, not as a goal to reach.
The responsibility of any gathering of saints is not to walk well to become a letter. They already are a letter of Christ. So they are to walk well, so that the letter may be read by all. If anyone writes a letter of commendation, it is to commend the person named in the letter. That is why, when the Spirit of God writes Christ on the hearts of believers, it is so that together they may become a letter of commendation, commending Christ to the world around.
The letter stays a letter even when nobody can make it out.
The writing may become indistinct, but it does not stop being a letter because it is blotted and blurred. Christians are often like the writing on some ancient tombstone. There are faint traces of an inscription, a capital letter here and there, showing that some name was once written on the stone. But it is so weather-worn and dirt-covered that the writing can hardly be made out.
- Written — Paul carried no letter of recommendation. The Corinthians themselves were the document. When challenged, he pointed at them.
- On the heart — the writing on his heart was already complete and lasting. Only the public reading was still going on.
- By the Spirit — God once engraved the law on stone. Now the Spirit engraves Christ on hearts. That is what makes a gathering a letter, not their own effort.
- Read by all — people may question the Bible or not understand it. They still read the lives of Christians they know, and form their view of Christ from what they see.
- Kept clear — the letter cannot stop being a letter. But it can weather into an unreadable inscription. Walking well is not how you become one. It is how you stay readable.
being manifested to be Christ's epistle ministered by us, written, not with ink, but [the] Spirit of [the] living God; not on stone tables, but on fleshy tables of [the] heart.
People at Corinth asked who Paul was and where his letter of recommendation was. His answer: the Corinthians are the letter. And the handwriting on them is not his but the Spirit's.
Paul answers by pointing to the Corinthians themselves — and through them to Christ.
It is all as if a person said, "Who is this Paul? Where is his letter of commendation? What kind of a man is he? He did not come from Jerusalem." Well, he says, Look at the Corinthians: that is the kind of man he is. He has been blessed to all these souls, and, more than that, they are walking well. And one of the first things he brings in is, "You are in our hearts." Then he gives a reason he could not give in the first letter: "You are my letter, because you are Christ's letter." They were a recommendation of Christ. That is, the saints are Christ's letter of recommendation to the world.
Paul does not tell them what they should become. He tells them what they already are — and that difference decides how a Christian tries to live.
Christians sometimes say: "We ought to be letters of Christ." But the Apostle does not say, "You ought to be." He says, "You are … a letter from Christ." … So he distinguishes between being Christ's letter and being shown to be such, known and read by all men. … If we hold the wrong thought that we ought to become Christ's letter, we will set to work to become it by our own efforts. That would leave us busy with ourselves under law, and it would also shut out the work of the Spirit of the living God. The fact is that we become Christ's letter, not by our own efforts, but by the Spirit of God writing Christ upon our hearts.
The phrase "letter from Christ" works in two directions at once. And "delivered by us" — "ministered by us" in older translations — keeps Paul in a smaller place.
They were "the letter of Christ" in a double sense. What is written is, in one word, Christ. And it is Christ Himself who is the great and effective Writer. True, He writes by the hand of His servant, and so we find the words, "ministered by us." Paul was only the minister. Still he was the minister, and this was enough to commend him.
Ink and the Spirit do not leave the same kind of mark.
Men write their letters with ink, but God writes by His Spirit. The law was written on tables of stone by the finger of God, but there is no response from a stone. God, the living God, has been writing on our hearts. He writes so that there may be a living response to Himself in our lives. That response shows Christ to people, and it brings pleasure and praise to God. What is written in ink fades with time; what is written by the Spirit is eternal.
The two writing surfaces stand for two systems. Stone stays hard; a heart can answer.
In contrast to the ten commandments written on tables of stone, this letter is written on fleshy tables of the heart. For the law was as hard and cold and impersonal as the stones upon which it was written. The Spirit of God writes on what is living and yielding. He presses on the heart and moves it. And the heart answers with thanks and love, freely.
Older translations say "fleshy tables"; the word points to the material:
"Fleshy" means the different fact of the physical material, consisting of flesh, in contrast with stone.
Writing needs a surface that will hold it. The Spirit does that first work too.
God lets His light shine on our hearts so that He may write His writing. But you must have the right material to write on. Unless the Spirit of God has been at work within you, producing that "inward man" which is of Himself, there is no "fleshy table of the heart" on which Christ can be written.
A letter exists for someone to read. Here the readers are the people around us.
God wrote the law on stone for Israel. In the same way, the Spirit now engraves Christ on the fleshy tablets of the Christian's heart, so that the world may read Christ in the church. … If we are Christ's letter, as the apostle declares to the Corinthians, we should certainly convey His mind and affections truly, without a blot.
- Writer — Christ is the author of this letter, and Paul only the hand that delivered it.
- Ink — Human letters fade; what the Spirit of the living God writes lasts.
- Stone — God carved the law on a surface that could never answer back. A living heart answers.
- Surface — The Spirit first makes the heart able to receive before He writes Christ on it.
- Readers — You already are Christ's letter. The world reads Him in you. The only question is whether the writing is blotted.
And such confidence have we through the Christ towards God
Paul has just called the Corinthians themselves a letter from Christ, written by the Spirit of the living God. This verse names the ground of that bold claim: the confidence runs "through Christ," and it faces "toward God," not Paul's own record as a worker.
Can a believer be sure of where he stands with God? One writer answers first for every Christian, then for Paul's own service:
"Such is the confidence that we have through Christ toward God." Christianity does not only shut out despair; it gives assurance. And that assurance stands on the firmest ground there is with God — Christ Himself. His work puts the believer into the same acceptance, nearness and favour that our Lord enjoyed through His own personal relationship with God and His perfection as man. That is what a Saviour like Him means, aims at, and achieves. Anything less would treat Him and His work lightly. But here the apostle speaks of confidence about his ministry, which is just as true and flows from the same grace.
The little word "such" ties the confidence to something already said. The changed lives Paul has just described gave him his footing:
The effect of his preaching was a joy to see in the changed lives of the Corinthians, which the Spirit had produced. This leads the Apostle to speak of his confidence about his ministry. He was confident that, by the grace of God given to him through Christ, his ministry was the truth that the Spirit could use to give life.
The evidence at Corinth was mixed. One commentator explains why the confidence had to run through Christ, not through what the converts looked like:
He knew, sadly, that the flesh was in believers, and even stood out in them. So his confidence about them had to be confidence through the Lord. And that is why it is a ground of confidence that never fails. He was sure that they really were God's own workmanship, and so he could speak as he does here.
Commentators differ over where the emphasis falls. Some read the trust as covering Paul's own fitness for the work. One writer argues the main subject is the effect of that work. He pictures Christ's letter at Corinth as a blotted, half-readable document:
What trust? Is he thinking here of his own fitness as a minister of the Church by the grace of God, or of the effect of that ministry? I have no doubt that the second is the main meaning of these words, though the first is of course included… And to an eye that saw as Paul saw, Christ's letter, then on open display at Corinth, might look ugly. It was full of blots and rubbed-out lines. Its genuineness even looked doubtful, because God's finger had traced it so faintly, while the flesh had written in its own bold insertions. Yet Paul did not stumble at this evidence of the enemy's power. He still trusted, through Christ, in the One who is above that proud enemy.
This confidence is not self-belief. It is real, but the ability behind it is on loan. Cut it off from its source and it goes:
God had not chosen the apostles because they were able in themselves for matters so great and wonderful. Such work is far beyond any human ability. But when He chooses someone, He supplies the ability to carry out the work He entrusts to that person… Paul would not separate the ability from its source in any way. Do that, and the ability is lost at once.
The same writer puts both sides together. Paul was "unshaken in his trust" in the face of everything that could oppose him, and that was "because he trusted no longer in himself" (A. Pridham).
- Christ is the channel. The confidence runs "through Christ." His work sets the believer in the same acceptance, nearness and favour that He Himself enjoys as man. No ground is firmer.
- God is the direction. The trust faces toward God, not toward other people, and not toward the servant's own record.
- Souls are the evidence. The Spirit changed lives at Corinth. Paul pointed to them as proof that his message was truth the Spirit uses to give life.
- Flesh does not cancel it. The flesh was still at work in the converts, so the confidence had to run through the Lord. That is why it could never fail.
- Competence is on loan. God supplies the ability along with the calling. Separate the two, and the ability is gone.
not that we are competent of ourselves to think anything as of ourselves, but our competency [is] of God;
At the end of chapter 2 Paul asked who is equal to such a ministry. This verse answers in two halves: he has no resource in himself, and his fitness comes wholly from God.
Paul asks his question in 2 Corinthians 2:16 and leaves it hanging. One writer traces the reply to this verse:
Eternal issues hang on the true preaching of Christ, whether the words are Paul's in the first century or ours today. No wonder the question comes up: "Who is sufficient for these things?" Paul raises it there but does not answer it at once. He answers it in verse 5 of the next chapter. The whole thing is of God, so there is no sufficiency but of God. If only every servant of God kept this in mind! It would make us deeply earnest and dependent on the power of God.
The denial reaches further than we might expect. Other translations read "not that we are competent of ourselves to think anything as of ourselves," and the writers below follow that wording. Paul cannot even think the work out of himself.
The thoughts of man are not the thoughts of God, and an apostle of Christ is no exception… Self-help is the most attractive of nature's idols, and as a minister of God he would have nothing to do with it. What is right and even necessary in everyday matters must be given up in the true service of Christ, and overcome there as an obstacle… Paul admits that he can neither think nor act out of himself. The thought is the parent of the work, and man's thoughts can neither plan nor direct the work of God. He was emptied of self so that he might be filled more completely with the energy of God.
That has a sharp edge for anyone who handles the Bible with confidence in their own mental powers:
Even the apostles, who were able ministers of the new covenant with wonderful gifts and qualifications, used to say that they could not of themselves think anything as coming from themselves, and that their sufficiency was of God. If such mighty men of God declared their inability to think a right thought apart from the teaching of the Spirit, how appalling it is in these days to find so many relying on learning and natural ability, and expressing their opinions of the Scriptures with such boldness.
Verse 4 speaks of confidence; this verse denies all confidence in self. Both stand together:
"Such is the confidence that we have through Christ toward God." Christianity not only shuts out despair but gives assurance, and on the firmest ground with God, even Christ… Yet with it goes the most earnest denial of any competency of his own, while he owns that God gave it to him for service under the new covenant.
Older translations end the verse "our sufficiency is of God." One writer weighs that small word "of":
Paul does not allow that the power is "from" God, as something apart from Him, given over to us. No — it is divine, and yet inseparable from Him who works. It is "of God" and yet not "of us." That does more than deny that the power could be ours: the word Paul uses stresses even more strongly that the power is of God and not from us.
God's choice of a servant is never based on what the servant already has:
God did not choose the apostles because of any competency of their own. Matters so great and wonderful lie far beyond human competency in any case. But when He chooses a vessel, He supplies the ability for the work He entrusts to it… Paul would not separate the competency from its source in any way. Cut it off from its source and it is gone at once.
The lesson is not Paul's alone:
All the Lord's servants must learn this lesson sooner or later. They have nothing in themselves, in their position, or in their circumstances that God can use. In a word, all our resources and strength lie outside ourselves, in Him: our sufficiency is of God.
Skipping the lesson has a name:
Everyone who works for the Lord should remember that the work needs power from on high. To take up His work apart from His grace and His Spirit is presumption. It slights the Lord, it harms us, and it gives Satan an opening he is quick to seize.
- Question — Paul asks in 2 Corinthians 2:16, "Who is sufficient for these things?" This verse answers: there is no sufficiency but of God.
- Emptied — Paul cannot even think the work out of himself. Emptied of self, he is filled with the energy of God.
- Confident — He claims no competency of his own, yet his confidence through Christ toward God stands firm. Both are true at once.
- Inseparable — the power stays in God's hand and is never handed over. Cut it off from its source and it is gone.
- Chosen — God does not pick the qualified; He qualifies the ones He picks. To work apart from His Spirit is presumption.
who has also made us competent, [as] ministers of [the] new covenant; not of letter, but of spirit. For the letter kills, but the Spirit quickens.
Paul has just called the Corinthians a letter written by the Spirit, not with ink. Now he says what God has made him: a minister of a new covenant, "not of the letter but of the Spirit." Readers have argued over two questions ever since. Which covenant does he mean? And what is "the letter" that kills?
God makes men fit for a work no man is fit for:
The apostle had confidence before God about this. He claims no personal competency for such service. He says instead that his competency comes from God, who had made him a competent minister of the new covenant — not of letter, but of spirit.
So what makes this covenant new?
So God had made him, with others, a competent minister of a new covenant. It was not a covenant of letter, as the old covenant of the law was, but a covenant of spirit. The new covenant is, as we know, entirely the declaration of God's "I will"s: not a demand upon man, but an assurance of what He works for and in men. So it must be a covenant of grace.
Paul calls himself a minister of this covenant. Yet its promises name Israel:
With whom is the new covenant primarily made? With the house of Israel and the house of Judah. We, as Gentiles, are neither one nor the other, and so may well ask what application it has to us. 2 Corinthians 3:6 gives the answer — we are ministers of it, not exactly of the doctrine of it, but of its practical reality and present application. Look at what comes next: "not of the letter, but of the spirit." The letter is what we have literally, in Jeremiah. The spirit is what lay behind God's mind: the principles on which He will deal with Israel when they are restored under the new covenant. He applies those principles to us now… We get all the blessings of the new covenant now, in the spirit, but not in the letter.
The next verse settles the meaning. The same word appears there for the writing on stone tablets:
We get the expression "the letter" twice in verse 6. The same word, in a slightly different form, comes again in verse 7, where it is translated "written." The New Translation renders it "the ministry of death, in letters, engraved on stones." This shows that in this passage the term "letter" refers to the law. The law kills. Its ministry is to death. The Spirit gives life.
The difference is not between a harsh text and a kind one. It lies between a demand and a gift:
For the letter kills, as a rule imposed on man. The Spirit gives life, as the power of God in grace — that is, God's purpose brought home to the heart of man by the power of God, who gave it to him so that he might enjoy it.
The gospel gives the righteousness the law demanded:
The law, the letter, killed. It was meant to show man what God required, and so to give him the sentence of death in himself. The gospel, on the other hand, ministered righteousness. It provided righteousness instead of requiring it, and so it was life to souls, not death.
Some use these few words to argue against the plain sense of Scripture:
This statement is often wrongly interpreted. The word "letter" does not mean the entire written Word of God. Many have taken that view. They declare that the Bible must not be taken literally, just as it says… The question here is not between the literal words and meaning of Scripture and its spiritual meaning. It is a contrast between the old covenant and the new, between law and gospel.
Commentators differ on how far "letter" reaches. Some apply the principle to any handling of God's words by the mind alone:
Whether the words are the law's or the gospel's, taking them in with the mind alone only leads to formality and death. Only what is "of the Spirit" can result in life.
Yet no one reaches the spirit of Scripture by leaving its words behind:
We must never suppose for one moment that we can do without the letter of Scripture. Nor can we have its spirit apart from the letter… If we tried, we would land in mysticism of a most dangerous kind, and fall prey to the imaginings of the human mind.
- Not from us — Paul claims no personal competency; God alone makes a man fit to minister this covenant.
- Not a demand — the new covenant is God's series of "I will"s, an assurance of what He works in men, and therefore pure grace.
- Not yet in letter — its literal terms belong to Israel and Judah; believers now enjoy its blessings in spirit.
- Not the Bible — "the letter" here is the law engraved on stone, not the written Word taken plainly; the law demands and kills, the Spirit supplies and gives life.
- Not without the words — the spirit is sought through the letter of Scripture, never apart from it.