Lesson 5 of 6
In Progress

Theological Themes in 2 Corinthians

Revised by Lois Malcolm (09/25)

Paul’s apostolic apology and pedagogy

A central issue in 2 Corinthians is the question of Paul’s apostolic authority. Because of the influence of competing apostles, the Corinthians had begun to question Paul’s authority as an apostle. Thus, the letter has been described as an apology, that is, a defense of Paul’s apostolic authority. But Paul does not seek simply to defend himself in the letter. Rather, precisely because he is an apostle, he seeks to enact the “good news” (i.e., the gospel) of God found in the “face” (prosōpon or presence) of the crucified Messiah Jesus (4:6)—”by word and deed, by the power of signs and wonders, by the power of the Spirit of God” (Romans 15:18b-19a).  And, he does this not only so that the Corinthians might be able to discern whether he is a genuine or a pseudo-apostle, but more importantly so that they might themselves proclaim and manifest the Messiah’s presence in their own lives through the Spirit. 

So, the letter’s apology is actually that it enacts a grammar or a “metaschema” (i.e., an underlying scheme) that enables one to interpret and respond to figures of speech (e.g., 1 Corinthians 4:6)—either by deconstructing false disguises (e.g., 2 Corinthians 11:13-15) or by allowing oneself to be transformed by their truth (e.g., Philippians 3:21). In other words, in 2 Corinthians, Paul seeks both to deconstruct the Corinthians’ false beliefs and practices, on the one hand, precisely by showing how they can be, in fact, transformed into a new way of being (a “new creation”) through the Messiah’s death and life, on the other (2 Corinthians 5:17). At issue for Paul is what grounds the “boast,” that is, the confidence and competence, that affects how we perceive and respond to life: Does it reside in the worldly wealth, power, or wisdom that is so often the means by which we abuse others, or they abuse us? Or, does it reside in Jesus, the crucified Messiah, who is the Wisdom of God, and who thus embodies for us God’s mercy, righteousness, and justice (Jeremiah 9:23-24; 1 Corinthians 1:29-31; 2 Corinthians 10:8-17)?

Throughout the letter, Paul enacts this metaschema by showing how we communicate the Messiah’s presence to one another in a multi-sensory fashion—and not just in our agency (i.e., in what we see or say) but also through what happens to us, such as the suffering our bodies undergo, the effect others have on us, and most importantly, how our conscience stands before God. And since our actions and experiences are so often distorted and dysfunctional, Paul uses an array of linguistic tools—from the double meaning of words to metaphors and an array of biblical allusions—in order to provide readers with a grammar or metaschema for “seeing and reflecting” (katoptrizomai) the Messiah’s image to one another in all their encounters in the world (2 Corinthians 3:18).

The hope of sharing in the sufferings and consolations of the Messiah

Undergirded by his appeal to “the God and Father of our Lord Jesus the Messiah, the Father of mercies and the God of all consolation” (1:3), Paul seeks throughout the letter to spell out in great detail how this God, in fact, “consoles us in all our affliction” so that we now may be able to “console those who are in any affliction” with the same consolation with which we are being “consoled by God” (1:4). And, the reason we can do this is because of the overflowing “sufferings” and “consolation” of the Messiah that now define our own lives (1:5). Living by faith in the Messiah Jesus’ life and death (Galatians 2:20) inherently entails becoming conduits of God’s consolation for others, precisely as we ourselves receive God’s consolation through the Messiah in the midst of whatever it is that we are experiencing (2 Corinthians 1:5-6). 

Thus, Paul hopes that the Corinthians will share in the Messiah’s sufferings and consolations because it is only on this basis that they will be able to be truly reconciled with him and with one another. Indeed, as he maintains, this Messiah Jesus, the “Son of God,” is always a “Yes” (1:17-20) and, by being baptized into his death and life, and having received the “pledge” of the Holy Spirit, they already have a common life with one another (1:21-22; 1 Corinthians 1:13). On the basis of this common life, which they already share, they will be able to “forgive and console” one another in the “face” (prosōpon, presence) of the Messiah—even amidst conflict and mistrust (2:7-10).

Moreover, Paul’s hope for such sharing or communion (koinōnia) is related not just with their being to forgive and console one another, but also with their being able to share wealth and power with one another and even with those beyond their own community. Thus, he also hopes that they will enter into a communion in which the abundance of some (whether that be material or spiritual) might meet the needs of others, and vice versa (8:4; cf. Romans 15:27). And he hopes that they will mutually boast in one another, a boast that at once embodies both “power in weakness” (12:9) even as it is also “authority…for building up and not for tearing down” (13:10). 

In sum, sharing in the sufferings of consolations of the Messiah Jesus entails three embodied paradoxes, which are experienced on both personal and communal levels: “as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything (6:10). In turn, these paradoxes directly echo Jeremiah’s redefinition of worldly wisdom, wealth, and power in terms of God’s mercy, righteousness, and justice (Jeremiah 9:23-34)—a passage especially influential on Paul’s understanding of how Jesus the Messiah is present in our lives (10:17; cf. 1 Corinthians 1:30-31).

The ministry of the Spirit

In 2 Corinthians, Paul addresses the false idea that the experience of the Holy Spirit has to do with mastery over our physical circumstances or, worse, that it makes us superior to others so that we can enslave and abuse them (11:14-20). Instead, drawing on prophetic literature, he relates it to the messianic age when the law would be written on our hearts (Jeremiah 31:31-34) and new hearts of flesh would be created within us rather than hearts of stone (Ezekiel 36:26). 

This imagery, in turn, recalls themes from the Golden Calf incident, when—after having received the Ten Commandments (i.e., God’s Torah), with the “finger of God” itself writing the law on their hearts (Exodus 31:18; Deuteronomy 9:10)—the people built a golden calf to worship. Thus, God commanded Moses to write the law on stone tablets, since it was no longer written on their hearts; after their idolatry, a chasm now existed between them and the law (Exodus 34:1). It is within this context that Paul speaks about the ministry of the Spirit, which creates life out of death, righteousness instead of condemnation (because of the people’s idolatry and injustice), and indeed what abides eternally (3:10-11)—such as faith, hope, and love (1 Corinthians 13:12-13)—rather than something that is merely momentary, like an extraordinary power to accomplish something (1 Corinthians 12:8-10).

Indeed, because the Messiah’s death and life removed the veil of dysfunction within and around us that keeps us from discerning and enacting God’s truth and goodness (i.e., God’s law or Torah) (3:14), a new age of the Spirit has been ushered in—an age in which we now can live out of the freedom that the Torah gives, that is, the freedom to live in truth and goodness, regardless of our circumstances (3:17). Living in the Messiah’s death and resurrection, we now continually are able to see and reflect the Messiah’s image, in the midst of all that is taking place around us (whether it be painful or pleasurable). That is, we now can see and reflect the image of the Messiah—who as God’s Torah and the creative Wisdom by which God governs the world (Sirach 24:1-33)—is, indeed, God’s image, mirror, and reflection (Wisdom 7:25). Thus, we now can—with “unveiled faces”—”see and reflect” (katoptrizomai) the Messiah’s image to one another and, in this way, be transformed from one degree of glory to another—a seeing, reflecting, and transformation enacted in our lives through the Spirit, from one degree of glory to another (3:18).

Manifesting Jesus’ death and life in our bodies

In the Gospel of Mark, when Peter confesses that Jesus is the Messiah, Jesus makes clear not only that as the Messiah he is the Son of Man who will suffer and die, and be raised from the dead (cf. Daniel 7:13-14; Isaiah 52:13-53:12), but also that his disciples are to take up their cross as well and follow him by serving one another—unlike the Gentiles, who “lord it over” one another (Mark 8:29-38; 9:35; 10:42). In a similar vein, in 2 Corinthians, Paul relates proclaiming the Messiah as Lord to our being servants of one another (4:5). Because of our union with the Messiah Jesus, the light of new creation now shines in our hearts, giving light of “the knowledge of God in the face of the Messiah Jesus” (4:6; cf. Isaiah 9:2, Genesis 1:3). No longer beholden to the “god of this age,” who governs by worldly wisdom, wealth, and power (cf. Jeremiah 9:23-24), we now are able to “see and reflect” (augazō) the Messiah to one another—this crucified Messiah who, as God’s creative Wisdom, bears God own image by enacting mercy, righteousness, and justice within and among us (4:3-4; cf. 3:18; Wisdom 7:26).

But we manifest all this “treasure” in the “clay jars” (i.e., the vulnerability) of our very own bodies so that it can be evident that this excess of power comes from God and not from us. Thus, it takes place amid all that we experience in our bodies, in our relationships with others, and even before God, which includes being afflicted, perplexed, persecuted, and even struck down (4:8-9). In sum, we daily bear the death of Jesus in our bodies so that his life might be manifest in them—as we daily are joined in his death to sin and raised in his righteousness (4:10-11; cf. Romans 4:25).

Thus, in the midst of whatever it is that we are experiencing, we can, like the psalmists of old, trust in and speak boldly about God’s promises because we know that ultimately, we will all be raised from the dead and presented before God’s judgment (4:11; cf. 1 Corinthians 15:41). We are confident that, even as our bodies waste away, the Holy Spirit is groaning through us, giving birth to the Messiah’s righteousness and life in us, instead of sin and death, and thus building us up into the very temple of God, the body of the Messiah—”a house not made with human hands” (5:4; cf. Acts 7:48; 1 Kings 8:27; Isaiah 66:1-2). For this reason, in whatever state we are in—whether we are in or out of our bodies—we “walk by faith, not by sight,” making it our aim to please God, confident that ultimately God’s eschatological justice and mercy will prevail for all (5:10).

God’s reconciliation of the world

Paul’s desire is to be in a mutual and reciprocal relationship with the Corinthians, one in which he boasts about them, and they boast about him (5:12). He grounds this hope in God’s love, which presses him together not only with the Messiah, but also with his fellow human beings (including the Corinthians) (5:14). Such love is rooted in the reality that “one”—Jesus the Messiah—has died the death in whom all have died, so that all now might no longer live for themselves, but for the one who died and was raised for them (5:15). 

This means that we now can have a new way of perceiving and responding to the world around us—one defined not by the values of this age (which grade people according to their wealth and power), but by the values embodied in a crucified Messiah (5:16). Why? Because this crucified Messiah is, indeed, the very creative Wisdom by which God governs in the world. When we live out by faith in this Messiah’s love for us, a new creation does, indeed, take place around us: the old has passed, behold all has become new (5:17). 

Along with this new epistemology (or this new way of perceiving and responding to the world), we also now can live out of a new ethos—that is, a new identity and purpose—one defined by the Messiah’s service of reconciliation in the world. And, this service or ministry cannot be divorced from the word or message that grounds it—that is, that God is indeed reconciling the world through this Messiah, not counting their trespasses against them (5:19). 

As ambassadors of this Messiah, we appeal to those around us—through God’s speaking through us—to be reconciled with God (5:20). At the heart of all that we say and do is the reality that in the Messiah God has taken on the structures of destruction that continually keep us hooked in the dysfunction of idolatry and injustice. And, God has done this so that we might, indeed, become God’s righteousness in the world, that is, those through whom God’s mercy and grace in the Messiah might be enacted (5:21). It is in this way that we announced to all that God has heard our cries and that the day of salvation is, indeed, taking place right now (6:1-2).

But for this ministry and message of God’s reconciliation to be sincere, it can only take place as the Spirit works within and among us—bringing us from death to life, and from sin to righteousness—creating the fruit of the Spirit in our lives even amid suffering and death (6:3-7). Thus, it can only be enacted amid the personal and communal paradoxes of our sharing in one another’s joy in lament, wealth in poverty, and power in weakness (6:10).

Forgiveness and repentance (or transformation)

Two narratives provide bookends for Paul’s main argument in the letter, that is, his defense of his apostolic ministry and appeal for reconciliation with the Corinthians (2:14-6:10). The first deals with the event that prompted the letter, that is, his writing a letter of rebuke instead of visiting the Corinthians (1:15-2:13) and the second anticipates his Paul’s upcoming visit, when he will address ongoing issues within the Corinthian community (6:11-7:16).

Paul calls for a change in behavior in each of these narratives. The first urges the Corinthians to forgive and console an offender (probably someone who had offended Paul on a previous visit) (2:5-7). Paul’s rationale, which he will explain more fully in the letter (e.g., 3:18), is simply that we do this in the presence (or the “face,” prosōpon) of the Messiah (2:10) in order to preempt our being exploited or taken advantage of by Satan, who preys on our hurts and resentments and in this way destroys communal life (2:11). 

The second narrative deals with Paul’s hope for the Corinthians’ response to his message of God’s reconciliation of the world in the Messiah. In an appeal to the Corinthians to open their hearts to him as their parent in the faith (6:11-13), he urges them to separate themselves from all that is “unclean” (6:17; cf. Isaiah 52:11)—that is, all the ways they have allowed themselves to be defiled by the idolatrous teaching of the false apostles (6:14-16). Their teaching has had a demonic effect on the Corinthians; it has silenced the voice of their own conscience so that in addition to allowing the false apostles to abuse them, they have treated one another, and even their very own selves, in ways that lack the integrity of those whose bodies are the “temple of the living God” (6:15; cf. 1 Corinthians 3:16) who has promised to “live in them and walk among them” (6:16; cf. Leviticus 26:11-12).

Thus, even though Paul feels badly that his letter of rebuke has caused them pain, he does not regret sending it. And here Paul makes a distinction between two types of pain or grief. On the one hand, there is “worldly” pain or grief (7:10), which only leads to destruction and death. On the other hand, however, there is “godly” pain or grief (7:9-10), which actually leads to “repentance” (metanoia), which in Greek has to do with a “change” (meta) of “mind” (noia) (7:10)—which, as he describes it elsewhere, has to do with being “transformed” (metamorphoumetha) (3:18; cf. Romans 12:1-2). It is precisely this kind of transformation that leads to a new way of being in the world—a “new creation”—that can profoundly transform those in community (5:17).

Generous grace amid wealth and poverty

One of Paul’s goals in writing 2 Corinthians was to raise funds for the Jerusalem church—both to address their economic need and to reinforce the unity that Jewish and Gentile Christians have in Christ (8:1-9:15; cf. Romans 15:25-32; 1 Corinthians 16:1-4; Galatians 2:10). Nonetheless, he did not want to coerce them into giving. Rather, he maintained that participating in the collection is a “grace” (charis)—a word he uses throughout two chapters on the collection (chapters 8 and 9), even though the Greek word charis is translated in different ways in English (for example, as grace,” 8:1, 9:14; “privilege,” 8:4; “generous undertaking,” 8:6, 7, 19; “generous act,” 8:9; “thanks,” 8:16, 9:15; and “blessing,” 9:8). 

Giving is to be done willingly (8:11-12), within a commitment from the heart (9:7). This echoes the biblical call to bring sacrifices and thank offerings with a “willing heart” during the restoration of temple worship after the exile (2 Chronicles 29:31). One is to give out of one’s own accord (8:3) and sense of self-sufficiency (9:8), and not out of any compulsion or necessity of any kind (9:7). Thus, giving must not be coerced (8:8,10), nor it is to be done with one’s self-interest in mind, like a patron who gives with strings attached. Instead, the biblical basis for such giving is rooted in the assumption that the righteous are inherently generous to the poor (9:9; Psalm 112:9). Indeed, the very Greek word Paul uses for “generosity”—haplotēs—has a double meaning: it means both generosity and sincerity and single-mindedness; hence, it intrinsically links giving and receiving within God’s abundance within creation, on the one hand, with being sincerely and single-mindedly rooted in the fear of the Lord, on the other (Wisdom 1:1).  

To illustrate these points, Paul uses the Macedonians, the Corinthians’ much poorer competitors for his attention, as the exemplars of giving. Why? Because their wealth of generosity stems not from their financial wealth, but from the paradoxical joy they have even in the midst of their extreme poverty (8:2). Most importantly, however, Paul uses Jesus the Messiah as the primary exemplar—“even though he was rich, he became poor for your sake, so that by his poverty you might be rich” (8:9; cf. Philippians 2:5-8).

The ultimate goal for this kind of generosity is that there be equality between givers and receivers—between, as Paul puts it, “your present abundance and their need” so that, in turn, “their abundance may be for your need” (8:13-14). The prime biblical antecedent for this is the way the Israelites gathered manna in the desert: “those who gathered much had nothing over, and those who gathered little had no shortage; they gathered as much as each of them needed” (Exodus 16:18). 

Foolish wisdom versus wise foolishness

One of the central issues Paul had to address in 2 Corinthians was the presence of competing apostles who, in his view, were, in fact, false apostles.  At issue was their supposed wisdom, which sought to classify and compare the gifts of an apostle in “letters of recommendation” based on human criteria (3:1), that is measurable standards, rather than recognizing that they were, in fact, gifts of the Spirit and thus uniquely endowed for each person given their particular circumstances (10:12). Indeed, instead of boasting in their own gifts and call, they were encroaching on Paul’s territory seeking to establish their work within a congregation he had founded (10:13-14).

The deeper issue, however, was that the Corinthians were allowing themselves to be duped by these false apostles, thinking they were being “wise” in doing so (11:19), but in fact they were only being abused and taken advantage of by them (11:20). As in the story of what took place in the Garden of Eden, they were being deceived by these apostles, who were actually agents of the “god of this age,” who tempts with the “wisdom” of this passing age, which values only wealth and power (11:1-15; cf. 4:4; Jeremiah 9:28-29). By contrast, Paul seeks to unmask what is actually going on in this situation. He concedes that he is too “weak” to enact that kind of power (11:21); in fact, this was one of their criticisms of him, that he was only “bold” in his letters, but “face-to-face” appeared to be weak (10:1). Nonetheless, the weapons he wields—even in his vulnerable humanity—have the divine power to take down strongholds (10:3-4). 

Power in weakness and authority for upbuilding 

Paul makes clear that the kind of power he wields is only a “power in weakness,” that is, a power that relies solely on the sufficiency of God’s grace (12:9) and not on any attempt to transcend the vulnerability of one’s own body (11:22-28) or to establish power over others (11:20). It is not even about having certain kinds of spiritual experiences and capacities—for example, having spectacular visions and revelations, or being able to have one’s soul travel outside of one’s body, even though Paul himself has had such experiences (12:1-4). Nonetheless, he will not boast about these kinds of things but wants people only to consider “what is seen” in him or “heard” from him (12:6-7), which is his witness to the “power of the Messiah” (12:9) that is powerful not just in him, but also in them (13:3-4).  

Thus, power in weakness, which relies solely on the sufficiency of God’s grace, is also an “authority” that the Lord gives “for building up and not for tearing down” (13:10; cf. 10:8)—so that we can be built up as individuals and a community, as the “temple of the Holy Spirit” (1 Corinthians 6:18 and the “body of the Messiah” (1 Corinthians 12:27). Indeed, the “power of the Messiah,” who dwells within them through the Holy Spirit, enables them to examine and test their own consciences before God, and determine for themselves whether Paul or any one else, for that matter, is worthy of their attention (13:5-8). Ultimately, the measure of a true apostle, or any other leader for that matter, is that they enable those they serve to become strong in themselves and in this way become fully mature and complete in themselves (13:9).