2 Corinthians 5:1–10
5 For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 2 For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling, 3 if indeed by putting it on1 we may not be found naked. 4 For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. 5 He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee.
6 So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, 7 for we walk by faith, not by sight. 8 Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. 9 So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him. 10 For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil.
1 Some manuscripts putting it off
Section Overview: Dwelling through Homelessness
This is one of the Bible’s clearest teachings on the intermediate state—that is, the period of time between a Christian’s death and the return of Christ. This is the time when a Christian is in the awkward position of not having a body, and this awkwardness is what Paul explores in this passage for the Corinthians’ encouragement. And yet even this intermediate state is not Paul’s main point but a reality he raises in the course of talking about something much better: our final resurrection body. Throughout the passage Paul uses the two images of houses and clothing. His overarching point is that every successive stage in a Christian’s experience is superior to the one we leave behind: earthly life, then the intermediate state, then final resurrection.
Section Outline
II.D. Paul’s Ministry as a Ministry of True Life (4:7–5:10) . . .
4. Longing for Our Future Body (5:1–5)
a. The Promise of Our Future Body (5:1)
b. The Frailty of Our Present Body (5:2–4)
c. The Certainty of Our Future Body (5:5)
5. Longing for Our Future with Christ (5:6–10)
a. At Home in the Body, Away from Christ (5:6–8)
b. Preparing to See Christ (5:9–10)
Response
We walk through this world bombarded by daily messaging to plant our final hopes here. Paul confronts us in 5:1–10 with a vision of the future that liberates us from the tenuous fickleness of this fallen world, a world in which a fortune amassed over a lifetime can be stolen through a moment of online identity theft, where health can be taken in a moment, where relationships and reputation can go south in shockingly unexpected ways. Our final future is not disembodied existence with God in heaven, though that is where saints are who die before Christ’s return. But the final, unending life ahead of us is the life we even now find ourselves longing for: a fully physical existence on this earth in a transformed and unweariable body, a body like Christ’s own resurrection body, for we are united to him (4:10–14).
Who of us can truly “lose heart” (4:1, 16)? Who cannot find growing within “good courage” (5:6, 8)? The Spirit is within us. The seed has already been planted. A process has begun that can never get derailed. Our final, resplendent, radiant, resurrection future is guaranteed.
Some manuscripts putting it off
5:1 Paul has recounted numerous flirtations with death thus far in the epistle, and every time he had escaped (1:9–10; 4:10–12). Now he explores, for the Corinthians’ comfort, what would happen if he had not. He is continuing his reasoning from 4:16–18 for why we do not lose heart despite the inescapable corroding of the frail body that belongs fundamentally to the old age.
Paul introduces the imagery of a “tent” and a “house” in reassuring his readers of the final resurrection body to come when Christ returns and establishes the new heavens and the new earth—a promise so sure that Paul can say “we have” it, using the present tense. As a tentmaker himself (Acts 18:3), Paul is well familiar with tents. And both he and the Corinthians would understand what Paul means when he speaks of this earthly body, this “jar of clay” (2 Cor. 4:7), as a tent, whereas what awaits us is something far more substantial, a “house” defined by three characteristics: it is “from God,” it is “not made with hands,” and it is “eternal in the heavens” (probably referring not to a location in heaven but to its heavenly nature). All three marks speak to the divine source of the future resurrection body as a sheer gift of grace and something only God himself can create. It is humanly unmanufacturable.
But Paul is saying something deeper for those who have ears to hear. The three key word roots in 2 Corinthians 5:1 appear in one other NT text: Mark 14:58. There Jesus is accused before the Jewish council of claiming, “I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and in three days I will raise another, not made with hands” (AT in italics). The three Greek words underlying “I will destroy,” “I will raise,” and “not made with hands” are the same Greek roots found in 2 Corinthians 5:1. And we know from the parallel to Mark 14:58 in John 2:19–22 that Jesus is speaking in temple terms. Paul’s use of these three terms can hardly be coincidental, and it seems likely that he is drawing on temple categories to speak of believers’ final future. This is all the more likely in light of Paul’s use of “tent” language (skēnos)—the same Greek word used throughout the Septuagint to speak of the tabernacle, which was simply an early, portable temple (cf. John 1:14).
The point of the verse, then, is that even as this earthly body wears out and dies, we know that we are then only moved more invincibly into the spiritual eschatological temple of which Jesus is the cornerstone (Eph. 2:19–22). We enjoy more deeply the fellowship with God himself that the temple was meant to facilitate all along.
5:2 Paul acknowledges our painful, grinding existence as “jars of clay” (4:7). This is more than back pain, erosion of cartilage in our knees, gradual hearing loss, decreasing energy levels. These are symptoms of a deeper groaning: the groaning from within fueled by the acute knowledge that we are made for immortality. That our bodies begin to power down from about age 30 feels bizarre, foreign, out of place. Death comes to all, but despite its universality we know deep within that it is unnatural. “All peoples take for granted,” writes Bavinck, “that humans are by nature immortal and that it is death, not immortality, that requires explanation. It is death that seems an unnatural thing.” Paul’s only other use of the word “groan” outside 2 Corinthians 5:2–4 is Romans 8:23, speaking of our groaning and longing for our resurrection bodies in the new earth. “Our heavenly dwelling,” we remember, is a reference not to the intermediate state in heaven but to the final “heavenly” body we will receive in the new earth (cf. Paul’s use of “heavenly” in speaking of this body in 1 Cor. 15:40–41, 44, 46).
5:3 This verse is not raising a question with the “if indeed” but is driving assurance even deeper (“since it is true that . . .”). Paul had raised the language of clothing in verse 2 for the first time with “to put on” (Gk. ependyō) and continues that metaphor here, using a synonymous verb (endyō). As those in Christ we long to be dressed in the same immortal resurrection body Christ himself now wears. The use of clothing imagery should not be pushed too far; Paul is not saying that the new body is only an external affair, as if it merely covered over a present mortality underneath. The change is far more drastic, and 2 Corinthians 5:1–10 should be understood in conjunction with 1 Corinthians 15:12–49 in order to maintain the right balance between continuity and discontinuity from this earthly body to the resurrection body. To be clothed with a resurrection body is for the mortal to put on immortality—a comprehensive, total transformation (1 Cor. 15:54), resulting in a body still identifiable with the body and identity of one’s mortal existence.
Paul’s point in this verse is that there will be no awkwardness or embarrassment when we put on our future resurrection body. The reference to nakedness may be speaking of the intermediate state, but in light of the way Paul uses this word (gymnos) in a strongly parallel passage (1 Cor. 15:37) it more likely refers to this mortal existence. We are now “naked,” compared to the glorious risen body awaiting us. This naked body is a mere seed that will be sown upon death, only to be raised immortal (1 Cor. 15:35–37, 42–44).
5:4 Paul picks up the train of thought from verse 2, speaking again of this earthly “tent” in which “we groan.” Here he probes further the cause of our groaning. The Greek word he uses is bareō (as a present participle): “being burdened.” This is the same word Paul uses in 1:8 to speak of being utterly overwhelmed at the near-death experience in Asia, and the term is used in the Gospels to speak of the disciples’ eyes being heavy with sleep (Matt. 26:43). The meaning here in 2 Corinthians 5:4 is that existence in this mortal frame is cumbersome, weighed down, laborious. The part of us belonging to the old age drags us downward. The body to come in the new age will know no such burden.
But Paul feels he must immediately qualify what he is saying, perhaps due to a Corinthian gnostic proclivity to privilege the immaterial over the material. “Not that we would be unclothed”—that is, it is not as if we want a final state that is disembodied. Just because we groan now as we lug around this bag of flesh does not mean our desire is to be free of a body altogether. That may have been a Greek ideal, but not a Hebrew one. God created the body. It is good (Gen. 1:26–31)—good, but fallen. Paul’s longing is not for a bodiless existence but for a sinless existence. It is sin that must be eliminated, not the body. Therefore our longing is—to sustain the clothing imagery—to “be further clothed”: to trade in the bodily “clothing” of this present age for that of the age to come.
In this way “what is mortal may be swallowed up by life,” the life of the age to come, eschatological life, the deepest longing of a believer’s heart. This life will be so comprehensive, so utterly complete, that all our present weaknesses and mortality will be “swallowed up” (Gk. katapinō; used also in 2 Cor. 2:7 of the sinner whom Paul wishes not to be “swallowed up” or “overwhelmed” by sorrow).
5:5 Paul has already made clear in verse 1 that the settled trajectory of those in Christ, terminating in resurrection glory, is “from God.” He now returns to press this home further. “He who has prepared us for this very thing is God.” Confounding all our natural intuitions about the way into God’s glorious future for his saints, Paul states in black-and-white terms that the blessings of the dawning eschaton are entirely in the category of gift, not at all that of desert.
The proof of God’s unilateral initiative is the presence of the Holy Spirit within us. But we must be careful (as in 1:22) to understand what this Greek word for “guarantee” (arrabōn) means. This is more than a promise. It is not so much something said as something done. The “guarantee” is not a verbal pledge but the actual beginning of the thing promised. “Down payment” gets at the idea. It is similar conceptually to Paul’s language of Christ’s resurrection as the “firstfruits” (1 Cor. 15:20, 23); that is, the first ingathering of a single harvest. Paul uses the word arrabōn just three times (2 Cor. 1:22; 5:5; Eph. 1:14), and in all three texts the point is that the Spirit is the beginning experience here and now of the life of the age to come. The superlative joy of the new earth is warm, intimate, restored fellowship with God. In the Spirit that fellowship has already begun.
5:6 The first Greek word in verse 6 is tharrountes, a present participle meaning “having courage.” Paul remarked “we do not lose heart” twice in chapter 4 (4:1, 16); “having courage” is the flip side of this. Paul is constantly bringing his theological reflection to bear on the hearts of believers.
Paul uses this verb (tharreō) only five times, all of which are in this letter, this being the first (5:6, 8; 7:16; 10:1, 2; the only other NT occurrence is at Heb. 13:6). While the latter three uses in 2 Corinthians (7:16; 10:1, 2) refer to a horizontal boldness or courage (between Paul and the Corinthians), these two uses in chapter 5 are vertical. In the flow of thought, this courage arises from what Paul has just been saying about the future resurrection body and the gift of the Spirit as a down payment. But this courage is further grounded in what Paul goes on to say in verse 6 and following.
This further grounding consists of Paul’s introduction of the language of being “at home” or “away” either “in/from the body” or “with/from the Lord.” To be “at home” is to dwell contentedly in one’s native homeland, while to be “away” is accordingly to live abroad as an exile (BDAG, s.v. ἐκδημέω). The meaning is simply that because Christ in his spiritual resurrection body has gone ahead of us to heaven, we his people are not in his immediate presence. We are in him, but we are not with him, at least in the fullest sense (we do have his Spirit within us, which renders certain that we will finally be with him).
5:7 Paul’s next words explain what it looks like for us here and now to live as those united to Christ, indwelt by his Spirit but not yet with Christ our beloved Lord. These words have rightly been held dear by generations of Christians.
We must understand what Paul is saying in the flow of his argument, however. Note the “for” connecting this verse to what has come before. He is not offering a bare truism to be remembered anytime something confusing unfolds in our lives—“Oh well, we walk by faith, not by sight.” Rather, Paul is describing the mental “neutral” of ordinary, daily existence as those united to Christ to be eschatologically informed. When did Paul last speak of “faith”? In 4:13, where the “spirit of faith” leads one to “believe” that the same God who raised Jesus will also raise those in him. But this is not a faith opposed to knowledge. In both 4:13–14 and 5:6–7 it is a faith grounded in knowledge (note “knowing” in 4:14 and “we know” in 5:6).
To “walk by faith,” then, is to proceed deliberately through life keenly mindful that one day soon we will join Christ in enjoying the resurrection body of which the Spirit is the first installment. It is therefore a life of “courage” (vv. 6, 8). The opposite, “by sight,” would be to consider this present mortal and frail existence to be the best we will ever know. To walk by sight would be to grasp for all the health and wealth we possibly can here and now, believing this life to be our best shot at happiness. It is a life of worry. But Paul has already told us to look not at the things seen but the things unseen (4:18)—the “eternal weight of glory” ahead of us (4:17).
5:8 In verse 6 Paul simply stated in bare terms that we now live at home in the body and thus away from the Lord. Now he assesses this state of affairs.
He first reiterates the “good courage” we know here and now as we walk by faith, assured of the resurrection body to come in light of the inbreaking of the eschaton as proven in the presence of the Spirit. Then he says something easily misunderstood. When he asserts, “We would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord,” he is making a statement not about the goodness of bodily existence but of the superior value of Christ and being with him. If Paul, or any right-thinking Christian (note the collective “we” in “we would rather”), has to choose between being in this mortal body or with the resurrected Lord, the choice is clear (cf. Phil. 1:23). But, happily, the broader contours of this passage teach that ultimately a believer need not make this choice. We will, finally, have both: a glorious resurrected body with the Lord.
5:9 We know that we will one day be with him. In the meantime, walking by faith, we “make it our aim” to please Christ. The verb used here (Gk. philotimeomai; also Rom. 15:20; 1 Thess. 4:11) means to erect something as one’s all-trumping concern, into which all other competing concerns of life funnel.
But what does it mean to “please” Christ? In English the word could be taken two ways. If we are simply trying to keep someone at bay, to get them “off my back,” as we might say, then we might act a certain way to “please” them. This kind of pleasing is pacifying and fueled by contempt or resentment. This is not what Paul means. The word Paul uses is a compound word composed of “well” and “to think/consider.” It is pleasing in light of thinking well of someone. More specifically, this is a pleasing born of love. Paul is saying that in light of the divinely initiated guarantee of resurrection life in the presence of the One who died for us and has been raised into the kind of immortal existence that is our own certain future, what else would we do but long to please him? What other joy could there be? As those in Christ, our deepest misery is to grieve our Lord, our one friend who never lets us down, who went all the way down into death on our behalf and who punched through the other side, promising to take us with him into that resurrection glory.
5:10 But there is also a more sobering reason we aim to please Christ. We will one day stand before him as he renders judgment over our lives—“all” of us. Does a statement such as this (of which there are several; the closest to 2 Cor. 5:10 is Rom. 14:10) contradict Paul’s teaching on justification by faith? By no means. Here we can only sketch a few lines of thought.
First, the verb Paul uses here translated “he has done” is not the more common word for “do” (Gk. poieō) but the rarer prassō, which means to practice or make a habit of doing (cf. the other use in this letter at 12:21). While our lives will be judged comprehensively, this is not a nit-picky judgment. God knows we are weak and prone to err. It is a judgment of the whole of our life, the trajectories we set, the patterns, the habits. This is reinforced by the final phrase of the verse: “whether good or evil.” Paul’s use of the singular here for “good” and “evil” likewise signals general trajectories of life.
Second, that this judgment is not only for “evil” but also for “good” suggests that Paul is speaking of rewards that follow and do not threaten the decisive justifying verdict over our lives. Even these rewards are gifts of God’s own grace and not our own self-generated virtue (cf. 9:8). But God in his great kindness deigns to dignify us for our good works even though he is ultimately supplying them. As Augustine beautifully and famously put it, when God rewards us, “He crowns nothing but his own gifts.”
Third, bear in mind the context. Paul has been seeking to instill in his readers a deep awareness of the resurrection they have already begun to experience through the presence of the Spirit (5:5) as they carry around the resurrection life of Jesus (4:10–11). The deeds for which we are judged, we are heartened to know, are deeds wrought not out of self-manufactured energies but out of the new life into which we have been irreversibly swept. A life of good deeds is simply living in accord with who we now are as eschatological creatures.
Fourth, it is profoundly comforting to know that the universe in which we find ourselves, despite appearances at times to the contrary, is a place of utter and final moral seriousness. As Paul teaches in Galatians 6:7–10, everyone reaps what they sow. God is not mocked (Gal. 6:7). Devious motives will be exposed (1 Cor. 4:5). Justice will be served. Victims will be vindicated. We can live at peace now, knowing that God will right all wrongs.