Original Meaning

THIS SECTION BEGINS the body of Paul’s letter (cf. outline). The first two topics to be discussed are Paul’s recent changes in travel plans (1:12–2:4) and the situation now facing the church in regard to the repentant offender (2:5–11). At first glance, these two topics appear unrelated. In reality, however, they are intimately connected. Paul turns his attention to the motivation behind what appears to be his arbitrary change of mind so that, by applying this same rationale to his readers, he might encourage them to respond in the same way to the one who has caused the community so much pain. Rather than calling his own legitimacy into question, Paul’s sudden change in plans (1:12–2:4) becomes a model for the change in behavior he expects from the Corinthians (2:5–11).

In this letter Paul is engaged on three fronts (see the Introduction). He is concerned primarily with the Corinthians themselves, who are divided into those who have already repented from their rebellion against Paul (cf. 2:5, 8–9; 5:12; 7:7–16) and those who are still questioning his legitimacy as an apostle (chs. 10–13). In addressing the Corinthians as a whole, he seeks to encourage the former while trying to win back the latter. At the same time, Paul must counter the influence among those still questioning his legitimacy of the “false apostles,” who have recently arrived in Corinth (cf. 2:17; 10:12–18; 11:1–15).

Nowhere is this threefold dialogue more evident than in this section of the letter. Against his opponents and those still under their influence, Paul must answer the objection that his change in travel plans reveals his overall weakness because of his lack of the Spirit’s guidance. But Paul must also make his motives clear to those who support him so that they will not only have confidence in his behavior, but even emulate it. To accomplish this task, Paul’s argument falls naturally into four parts: 1:12–14; 1:15–22; 1:23–2:4; and 2:5–11.

The Content of Paul’s Boast (1:12–14)

PAUL MAKES THE transition to this next section by indicating another reason he is so confident in calling the Corinthians to praise God for his life of faith in the midst of adversity (cf. 1:3–11). In 1:8–11, his confidence derived from God’s work of rescuing Paul in order to sustain his hope personally. In 1:12–14, it now derives from God’s work of establishing Paul’s ground for boasting publicly. Specifically, Paul’s conscience is clean concerning his behavior in the world in general and toward the Corinthians in particular since in both regards he has acted “in the uprightness¹ and sincerity that are from God” (v. 12a).

“Uprightness” (haplotes) and “sincerity” (eilikrineia) are concepts that carry the connotation of moral purity. From their use elsewhere in Paul’s writings it is clear that, given humanity’s bankrupt nature and the dominance of sin in the lives of those outside of Christ (see, e.g., Rom. 6:16–20; 8:5–8), the presence of such uprightness and sincerity cannot be attributed to Paul’s own moral ability (for haplotes, see esp. 2 Cor. 11:3 as well as Rom. 12:8; Eph. 6:5; for eilikrineia, 1 Cor. 5:8; 2 Cor. 2:17). Where such attributes exist, they are “from God,” the result of the transforming work of God’s Spirit in the lives of his “new creation” (2 Cor. 5:17; cf. 3:18).

The contrast in 1:12 between conduct carried out according to “worldly [lit., fleshly] wisdom” and that which derives from “God’s grace” thus reflects the difference between Paul’s own condition apart from Christ and his new standing as an apostle (cf. 1:1; 3:4–6; 5:20; 6:1). Apart from God’s grace, one’s only recourse is to the wisdom that comes from the values, worldview, and societal structures associated with life devoid of the Spirit’s power and guidance. This is what Paul refers to as living or thinking according to “the flesh” (cf. 1:17; 5:16; 10:2; also Rom. 8:3–17; Gal. 5:13–26; Eph. 2:1–3) or according to this “world” (cf. 1 Cor. 1:20; 2:12; 3:19; Eph. 2:2; Titus 2:12). For this reason, the NIV often translates Paul’s use of “flesh” (sarx) as “sinful nature” (cf. Rom. 8:3, 4, 5, 8, 9, 12, 13; Gal. 5:13, 16, 17, 19; Eph. 2:3; Col. 2:11), while it understands the “mind of the flesh” to refer to “the mind of sinful man” (Rom. 8:6–7). In 1:12 the NIV captures well the meaning of the phrase “fleshly wisdom” with its “worldly wisdom.”

Paul’s point in verse 12 is that his outward behavior, rather than calling his ministry into question, actually confirms the grace of God’s call in his life. In his “boast” about a clean conscience, Paul is therefore not engaging in the self-glorification and self-dependence that he himself so strongly condemns (cf. Rom. 3:27; 1 Cor. 1:29; 3:21; 4:7; 5:6; 2 Cor. 5:12; 11:12, 16, 18; 12:1–5; Eph. 2:9). To boast in one’s honesty and sincerity, or in any other evidence of God’s grace, is to boast or glory properly in what God has done in and through one’s life, that is, to “boast in the Lord” (1 Cor. 1:31; 15:9; 2 Cor. 10:17; cf. 10:8; 11:10; Rom. 5:2; 15:17; 1 Cor. 9:15; Gal. 6:4; Phil. 3:3). The content of one’s boast, not the act of boasting as such, determines whether it is legitimate or not.

Hence, Paul’s reference to the testimony of his conscience is, in fact, a reference to the objective work of God in his life as manifest in his outward behavior; it is not a retreat to a private and hidden sense that nobody else can judge. Of course, Paul knows that the conscience can deceive, so that ultimately it is the Lord who judges (cf. 1 Cor. 4:4–5; 2 Cor. 5:10). At the same time, the Lord testifies to his grace in the lives of his people by changing their behavior. The testimony of Paul’s conscience will consequently find resonance in the conscience of those in whom the Spirit is also at work (cf. 2 Cor. 4:2; 5:11).

Paul’s confidence that his actions reflect God’s work in his life is supported by his willingness to write openly and clearly, that is, to “boast” about his recent change of plans, which he proceeds to do in 1:15–2:4. The transparency of his report reflects God’s grace manifested in the truthfulness of his actions (1:13a). He has nothing of which he needs to be ashamed. Paul thus has confidence (i.e., “hope”) that when the Corinthians hear the rest of the story, they too will no longer doubt his credibility, but will join him in boasting in what God has done in his life as their apostle. In doing so they will testify to God’s grace in their own lives. As a result, their boast in Paul will match Paul’s boast about their genuine spiritual nature on the day of final judgment, that is, “in the day of the Lord Jesus” (v. 14; for Paul’s boast in and about his people, cf. 7:4, 14; 8:24; 9:2–3; 1 Cor. 15:31; Phil. 2:16; 1 Thess. 2:19).²

It is not too much to conclude, therefore, that the Corinthians’ acceptance of Paul becomes the criterion by which their own genuine conversion will be measured. If they boast in Paul as a genuine apostle, he will be able to boast in them as genuine believers (1:14). In both cases, however, the proof of their respective legitimacy is to be found in the manner of their lives. For Paul this entails the way in which he behaved toward the Corinthians as their apostle; for the Corinthians it means the way in which they respond to Paul as his “dear children” in the Lord (cf. 1 Cor. 4:14–15).

The Reason for Paul’s First Change of Plans (1:15–22)

EVIDENTLY, PAUL’S OPPONENTS had pointed to his apparent change in plans regarding coming to Corinth as further evidence of his illegitimacy as an apostle. They also seem to have argued that Paul’s first change in plans, in which he decided to come to Corinth twice instead of making one extended visit, was part of an elaborate scheme to use the collection for the believers in Jerusalem as a front to defraud the Corinthians (cf. 1 Cor. 16:5–7 with 2 Cor. 7:2; 8:20–21; 11:7f.; 12:13–18). After all, if Paul were a true, Spirit-filled apostle and not merely after their money, he should be able to rely on the guidance of God, rather than changing his mind concerning his itinerary, not only once, but even two and three times! Paul’s plans should reflect the very surety of the God who never changes, his word should be as reliable as the God who never lies, and his authority should be as unassailable as that of God’s himself. Hence, Paul’s opponents viewed his failure to carry through with his original plan as an indication that the Spirit was not at work in his ministry, but that he made his decisions “in a worldly manner” (1:17; lit., “according to the flesh,” i.e., devoid of the Spirit).

Nevertheless, despite Paul’s opponents’ criticism, the rhetorical questions of verse 17 expect a negative answer. So he reminds the Corinthians that his first change in plans derived not from a lack of God’s guidance, but from the confidence that his actions were being carried out in response to God’s grace in his life (taking the “this” of v. 15 to refer back to vv. 12–14). His motives for acting were pure and his conscience was clear. Since Paul acted according to God’s grace, he need not swear an oath to establish the truth of his word by declaring “yes, yes” and “no, no” (1:17).³ In Jewish tradition, given the “inconstancy of human nature,” the repetition “guarantees that the ‘yes’ of the speaker is truly ‘yes,’ as his ‘no’ is truly ‘no,’ ” whereas “the ‘yes’ of the righteous should be truly ‘yes’ and the ‘no’ should be ‘no’ ”⁴

Against this backdrop, Paul’s change of plans was not the expression of a vacillating character, but a display of God’s faithfulness (1:18). Grounded in God’s grace as proclaimed in the gospel, the apostle’s speech, like his preaching, was straight and pure, so that his message and his plans were a simple “yes” (1:19; cf. 1:12–14).⁵ Instead of coming to Corinth only once on his way to Jerusalem from Macedonia (cf. 1 Cor. 16:1–9), Paul would visit Corinth twice, once on his way to Macedonia and then again on his way back to Jerusalem (2 Cor. 1:15–16). That such a change in plans did not reflect a lack of the Spirit is evident in Paul’s purpose for the extra visit: that the Corinthians, not Paul, might “benefit twice” (v. 15).

The word translated “benefit” here (charis) is the same word used to refer to “grace” and its gifts. Paul’s purpose in wanting to visit the Corinthians twice was that they might have (lit.) “a second [expression of] grace.” As chapters 8–9 make clear, this twofold experience of grace refers to the Corinthians’ being able to have two opportunities to contribute financially to the collection. In 8:1, 4, 6–7, 19, “grace” is used to describe the act of contributing to the collection since, according to 9:6–11, the ability to give to others is a manifestation of God’s gracious ability to meet one’s own needs. The Corinthians’ willingness and ability to give to those who cannot repay is a demonstration that they too have received “grace.” For this reason, when Paul planned this unanticipated second visit it was not an act of the “flesh” (i.e., “making plans in a worldly manner”) by which he had hoped to benefit personally (v. 17). He did it for the Corinthians, fully aware that to provide them an opportunity to give twice would benefit them twice as much, since “God loves a cheerful giver” (9:7).

Seen in this light, Paul’s change of plans was not a duplicitous act of vacillation, but a reflection of God’s own faithfulness (1:8–19). Here too Paul supports his bold counterpunch by relating his experience to the revelation of God in Christ (cf. 1:9). Just as God has shown himself faithful by fulfilling his promises in Jesus Christ, so too Paul has acted in accordance with this same gospel as it was preached and confirmed to the Corinthians by several witnesses (v. 20a).

Paul’s open-ended description in verse 20 of these promises (“no matter how many promises God has made”) reflects his conviction that Jesus is both the midpoint and climax of redemptive history. There is no event in Israel’s history or promise granted to God’s people that does not find its significance or fulfillment in Christ. God’s unchanging commitment to pour out his grace toward his people by meeting their needs reached its climax in the sending of Christ for their sins (cf. 5:21). So too God’s promise to deliver his people from sin and evil, the ultimate fulfillment of which is their resurrection from the dead, also takes place in Christ (cf. 4:14). And God’s intention to judge the world is likewise brought about by Christ (cf. 5:10). Hence, God’s apparent change of plans in first sending Christ to the cross (cf. Mark 10:45) before he comes to judge (cf. 1:14; 5:10) was, in reality, a consistent fulfillment of his promises to bless the nations (cf. Gen. 12:1–3; Rom. 3:21–26; 4:11; Gal. 3:13–14).

The unexpected nature of Christ’s first coming was, in reality, the unfolding of God’s overarching plan and promise to pour out his grace on his people. Similarly, Paul’s commitment in Christ to meet the needs of the Corinthians led him to change his plans in order that they might experience God’s grace or “benefit” as much as possible (not once, but twice). In other words, because Paul’s intention remained the same, his plans changed! Paul utters his agreement (his “amen”) to what God has done in Christ (i.e., meet their needs), not only in word by preaching the gospel, but also in deed by acting like Christ himself toward the Corinthians.

“Amen” is a transliterated form of a Hebrew word that means “to confirm” or “to establish.” Jews regularly declared “amen” in response to prayers or statements with which they agreed. Thus, by his own change of plans toward the Corinthians, Paul “amens” God’s demonstration in Christ of his divine faithfulness toward his people. In doing so, he expresses God’s own commitment to keep his promises in and through Christ.

The object of Paul’s “amen” is “to the glory of God” (v. 20b). Again he reminds the Corinthians that the purpose of all things is to glorify God (cf. 1:3, 11). God is the one who is to be honored for their good works (cf. Matt. 5:16), whether it be Paul’s decision to visit the Corinthians twice or the Corinthians’ decision to give to the collection. The reason for giving God the credit is expressed in the three images set forth in verses 21–22, which are best taken as referring to both Paul and the Corinthians (note the explicit inclusion of the Corinthians in 1:21a). (1) God is to be praised because he is the one who enables both Paul and the Corinthians to “stand firm in Christ.” This is a reference to their conversion, by which God establishes them securely as Christians.

(2) God is the one who has “anointed” them. To be in Christ, “the Anointed One,” leads in turn to being anointed by God.⁶ This is a reference to their calling as Christians by which God has set them apart and equipped them by the gifting of the Spirit to accomplish his special purpose for them.

(3) God is the one who, like an ancient king, has “set his seal of ownership” on them and “put his Spirit in their hearts as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.” Here Paul is referring to God’s commitment to their consummation, sealed and certified by his having given them his Spirit as an arrabon. This is a technical, financial term referring to a “first installment” or “down payment” paid out as a pledge of faithfulness to a commitment. In this context it refers to the pouring out of the Spirit as God’s pledge to “pay in full” the promise he has already begun to keep by granting his presence and power to his people. Paul’s praise in 1:20 consequently reflects his Trinitarian theology and his understanding of God’s promise to save, sanctify, and glorify his people: God is praised for his work in and through Christ as effected and secured by the gifting of the Spirit.

We have seen already that Paul’s praise carries a polemic purpose (cf. 1:3–11). As 1:20b makes clear, the experience of conversion, calling, and consummation outlined in verses 21–22 comes about through Paul’s apostolic ministry. In other words, the “amen” uttered to the glory of God comes about through Paul (lit., “through us,” as an apostolic plural). This means, in turn, that the very existence of the Corinthians as believers authenticates the character and conduct of Paul’s life, since it is Paul’s ministry as an apostle that mediates God’s presence and power to the Corinthians (cf. 3:7–18). Hence, if they doubt Paul’s motives, they will be casting doubt on the reality of their own life in Christ (for the explicit development of this point, see 3:1–3).

The Reason for Paul’s Second Change of Plans (1:23–2:4)

AS IF PAUL’S original change of plans was not confusing enough, he changed them yet again after his first planned visit. Paul’s visit on his way to Macedonia turned out to be extremely difficult because of the rebellion against his authority that took place at that time (see the Introduction). Rather than going on directly to Macedonia and then risking yet another such “painful visit” (2:1), Paul decided to return to Ephesus. Once there, he wrote a letter out of “distress and anguish of heart and with many tears, not to grieve [the Corinthians] but to let [them] know the depth of [his] love for [them]” (2:4). To those opposing Paul, this new change of plans appeared to be motivated by his fear of rejection in Corinth. In their view, Paul was a coward who refused to face his accusers.

In reality, however, the same Christological principle that motivated Paul’s first change of plans motivated his second, namely, a desire to extend mercy to others. But whereas earlier Paul had wanted to give the Corinthians a double opportunity to extend grace to others (by giving money twice), this time Paul acts to extend mercy to the Corinthians themselves. Paul reminds them in 13:1–10 that he is both willing and able to exercise his authority to judge those who claim Christ but live in sin (cf. 1 Cor. 4:21; 5:1–13). Nevertheless, before judgment comes mercy. God is long-suffering. Just as God has extended one more opportunity for repentance and restoration to the world by separating the two comings of Christ, Paul too wanted to extend this same opportunity to the Corinthians.

The gravity of what Paul is saying in this section is reflected in his willingness to confirm it by a solemn oath, which calls God to be his “witness,” as in a court of law, thereby inviting divine judgment on himself should he be lying (1:23a). Indeed, Paul is so serious about this assertion that he even puts his own life on the line in support of it (the NIV does not translate the full text, which reads, “I call God as my witness against my life”).⁷ In 1:23 Paul is testifying in the most earnest way possible that it was not his fear of rejection that kept him from returning to Corinth, but his wish to “spare them” the judgment of God. In 13:2, Paul issues the same warning that he will not “spare” those who are still rebelling when he comes again (like the second coming of Christ). Had Paul come to them in the midst of their rebellion, he would have been compelled to pronounce God’s condemnation and to put them out of the church (cf. again 1 Cor. 5:1–5 and the principle in 5:12–13).

In explaining his motives, Paul is not trying to be heavy-handed or to flaunt his authority. Just the opposite! His decision not to come to Corinth a second time was an act of humble restraint in which he refused to exercise his authority toward them, even when it would have meant his own vindication. Rather than fight for his own reputation, Paul’s purpose was “to work with [them] for [their] joy” (1:24a). Paul’s goal as an apostle was not to establish his authority for its own sake, but to establish their faith so that they might stand “firm” as God’s people (1:24b).

So Paul canceled his return visit (2:1) because he recognized that his own happiness as an apostle was wrapped up in the Corinthians’ progress in faith, not in their judgment and ensuing grief (2:2). Paul was willing to deny himself the immediate pleasure of his own vindication for the greater satisfaction of seeing the Corinthians experience the joy of a renewed faith. In this sense, Paul changed his plans not solely for the sake of the Corinthians, but for his own sake as well (2:3). Moreover, in making this decision, Paul had the confidence that his mercy toward the Corinthians would have its desired result: The Corinthians would repent and once again share Paul’s joy in Christ (2:3b). The very existence of 2 Corinthians is itself testimony to the fact that Paul’s confidence, if not fully realized (note his emphasis on “all of you” in 2:3), was not misplaced. Paul’s love for the Corinthians, expressed in the severe warnings and calls to repentance of his previous letter (2:4), was the instrument God used to bring the majority of the Corinthians back to Paul (cf. 7:8–12). Paul’s hope is that his present letter will do the same for the rest (cf. 13:5–7).

The Application of Paul’s Example to the Corinthians (2:5–11)

HAVING EXPLAINED HIS rationale for his changes in plan, Paul now turns his attention back to the Corinthians. His goal is to admonish them to use the same rationale in dealing with the one who caused grief not only to Paul, but also “to some extent” to the community as a whole (2:5). Paul’s inclusion of the church at this point is crucial. Had the offense been against Paul alone, he would have been compelled to heed his own advice in 1 Corinthians 6:7 and “rather be wronged” than pursue personal vindication. But in opposing Paul the integrity of the congregation was at stake, since the legitimacy of the Corinthians is inextricably bound up with that of Paul as their apostle (cf. 2 Cor. 3:1–3). Paul therefore felt it was warranted to take up this offense (cf. 2:3–4; also 1 Cor. 4:14–21).

Though Paul nowhere mentions the specifics of the offense itself, it must have involved some sort of slander against him and his apostolic relationship with the Corinthians. Perhaps the offender had been a person of influence who had sided with Paul’s opponents and led the opposition against Paul. Whatever the case, most of the Corinthians had initially sided with this slanderer. Later, after the majority had repented as a result of his “tearful letter” (2:4; 7:8–13), they grieved with Paul because of the offender’s influence over them. They consequently punished the offender (2:6), most likely by excluding him from the fellowship of the Christian community in accordance with the precedent set in 1 Corinthians 5:2, 5, 13.

The punishment had its intended, salutary impact. The offender had repented. He was ready to rejoin the congregation. In response, Paul calls the Corinthians to follow in his footsteps not only in pouring out punishment on those who deserve it, but also in showing mercy to the repentant. Paul’s purpose is redemptive, not the reestablishment of reputations. The same desire to extend mercy to others that guided Paul’s relationship with the Corinthians is to guide the Corinthians’ relationships with one another. Paul’s concern is that if forgiveness, comfort, and love are not extended to the offender, that person will be “overwhelmed by excessive sorrow” (2:7–8). As Victor Furnish observes, “any further discipline would be strictly punitive and could only lead to grief of a worldly sort, unrelieved by any redemptive value” (cf. 7:9–11, where such “worldly grief” leads to death).⁸

This is why Paul makes it clear that his confrontational letter was intended to “test” them to determine whether they would be “obedient in everything” (2:9). This obedience includes not only a willingness to repent and to judge the offender as needed (2:6), but also an eagerness to forgive him once he too has repented (2:7, 10). By exercising such obedience, they will be following Paul’s example in extending mercy to the Corinthians themselves, just as he follows the example of Christ (1 Cor. 11:1). In turn, Paul’s willingness to submit to the Corinthians’ extending forgiveness to the offender is yet another expression of this same Christ-like obedience (2 Cor. 2:10a).

Even though Paul was the one who suffered first and foremost, he considers the Corinthians to be the ones primarily injured in this rebellion against his apostolic authority, so that they must take the lead in reconciliation. In other words, in following the offender’s lead in rejecting Paul they were, in reality, injuring themselves. As they now welcome back the repentant sinner (Paul fully expects that they will pass this test), so will he, aware that he is acting “in the sight of Christ,” that is, under Christ’s judgment and for the sake of his approval (2:10b). Like Christ, Paul’s concern is not for his own reputation, but for the good of the Corinthians (cf. 1:24; 12:19). Paul’s forgiveness is extended “for [their] sake” (2:10), not his own. Throughout 1:15–2:10, the model of Christ motivates Paul’s relationship with the Corinthians.⁹

As Paul concludes this section, his seriousness is striking. He ends by indicating that the ultimate purpose for his admonitions is to prevent Satan from using this situation against the church (note the purpose clause in 11a). Satan’s “schemes” (v. 11b) revolve around destroying the mutual acceptance and forgiveness that is to characterize God’s people, since they are the evidence of God’s redeeming work in Christ and of the unity of the Spirit that it creates (1:19–22; cf. 1 Cor. 12:3, 12–13). And no early church had struggled with the unity of the Spirit in Christ more than the Corinthians. In fact, most of the commands throughout 1 Corinthians center on some aspect of church unity (e.g., 1 Cor. 1:10; 3:1–3; 4:14, 16; 5:4a, 5a, 7a, 8b; 6:1, 4, 6–7, 18, 20; 8:9, 13; 10:14; 11:33–34).

Once again, therefore, Paul reminds the Corinthians of the spiritual battle that is raging as they fight the temptation to bear a grudge and to transform their punishment into an act of revenge by extending it beyond what is needed. The majority of the Corinthians have demonstrated their renewed allegiance to Paul by showing righteous anger against the one who caused him grief and harmed the church. Now it is time to pass the ultimate test of whether their repentance is indeed legitimate. Nothing less than the validity of their own salvation is on the line in the call to forgive others. Those who have repented and experienced mercy from God have no choice but to extend the same mercy to those who have done likewise (Matt. 6:12, 14–15).

Bridging Contexts

WE HAVE SEEN that throughout this passage Paul responds to the problems at hand theologically. In 1:12–2:4, he described how his own decision-making was based on principles derived from the way in which God himself has acted in redemptive history. In changing his plans in regard to the Corinthians Paul was practicing what he preached when he admonished others to be “imitators of God” (Eph. 5:1). Then, in 2 Corinthians 2:5–11, Paul applied these same principles to the Corinthians.

This was nothing new on Paul’s part. As he had admonished the Corinthians before, he expected them to “follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1). They had also seen this imitation of Christ illustrated in Paul’s willingness to give up his rights for the sake of others (cf. 9:1–23; 10:33), which he then applied to the Corinthians (8:1–13; 10:23–32). In the same way, Paul’s theological convictions concerning God’s work in Christ, not the specifics of his circumstances, provide the guidance we need in moving from his context to our own. The key, then, to applying this passage is to isolate the theological principles Paul adduces to justify his actions.

Theology (1:12–14). The basis of Paul’s boast in 1:12–14 was his clear conscience concerning his conduct. His theological support for this confidence was his doctrine of God (theology), since it was God’s grace that made his ethical behavior possible. For Paul there is a direct link between theology and ethics, between the dynamic nature of God’s presence in one’s life and how one actually lives. Rather than copying Paul’s behavior per se, in applying his example we too should evaluate whether or not our way of life reflects the sincerity and uprightness that flow from the presence of God’s grace in our lives.

Paul’s decision to be transparent about his suffering (1:8–11), and now about his change in plans (1:12–14), reflects a confidence concerning God’s transforming grace that remains relevant in any context. If our decisions flow from an honest attempt to reflect God’s work in our lives, not from the ways of the world, then we will not need to hide our actions or motives behind a cloak of secrecy, even when we are wrong (1:13). This combination of humility before others and confidence before God becomes the strength and boast of those who know that Christ is their judge (1:14).

Christology (1:15–22). In 1:15–22, Paul explains his behavior by appealing to salvation history, in which the sending of Jesus as the Christ demonstrates God’s faithfulness and ultimate purpose toward his people. Thus, if theology provides the basis for our conduct, Christology becomes the key to evaluating its content. The coming of Christ as the verification and fulfillment of God’s promises is the turning point in the history of the world (1:20). As such, it is the most important datum for Christian ethics.

But as Paul’s argument illustrates, this does not mean that we simply ask, “What would Jesus think or do in our situation?” When dealing with issues that are specifically addressed by Jesus’ moral admonitions and theological affirmations, we may extend these teachings to our circumstances by way of correspondence or implication. But when discerning God’s will in ambiguous situations, such as Paul’s travel plans, it is almost always impossible to transport Jesus from his first-century context in Roman-occupied Palestine into our own circumstances. Nor can we assume that in our finite, sinful state we should do everything that Jesus did as the messianic Son of Man and the incarnate, divine Word.

Moreover, most attempts to discover “what Jesus would have done” degenerate into an attempt to get behind the texts of the Gospels into the “mind of Christ.” To do so, one must either psychologize the text by trying to recreate what Jesus “felt” or desired at the time, or fall prey to the fallacy of what E. D. Hirsch called “intuitionism.”¹⁰ In either case, the reader has removed the meaning of Christ’s words from the words themselves and taken them captive to his or her own subjective imagination. In applying texts, however, we must keep in view that the only intention that can be recovered from a passage is that which is explicitly expressed in the language of the text itself, understood within its own historical and literary context. We cannot get “behind” the text to what an author was thinking or feeling apart from what the author himself tells us about those thoughts or feelings.

Thus, in appealing to Christ in this passage, Paul does not attempt to reconstruct Christ’s mindset or to imagine what plans Christ would have made had he been in Ephesus. Paul does not say that he changed his plans because of what Christ would have done in Paul’s place, but because of what Christ had already done as the Son of God (1:19). Rather than providing a short-cut to discerning God’s will, the fact that Paul justifies his actions by referring to Christ, whom he had preached as the fulfillment of God’s promises, pushes us to ponder the nature of redemptive history as a framework for making ethical decisions.

When Paul earlier reminded the Corinthians that they had “the mind of Christ” (1 Cor. 2:16), he was not promising them a pipeline to Christ’s inner thoughts and feelings. He was assuring them that the coming of Jesus now makes clear the inscrutability of God’s ways in history (cf. the quote of Isa. 40:13 in 1 Cor. 2:16). As Craig Blomberg has pointed out, 1 Corinthians 2:13–16 does not

justify attempts at interpreting God’s will, including his revelation in the Scriptures, apart from standard, common-sense principles of hermeneutics.… the Spirit never teaches that which is contrary to the plain meaning of passages interpreted in their original historical and literary contexts. And this meaning is accessible to anyone—believer or unbeliever—willing and able to put in the necessary study time…. The “understanding” these non-Christians do not possess is what the Bible consistently considers to be the fullest kind of understanding: a willingness to act on and obey the word of God (cf. v. 14a).¹¹

In our passage, therefore, in order to act ethically in a complex situation for which there is no direct scriptural mandate, Paul does the hard work of reflecting theologically on the significance of Christ within God’s plan of redemption.

Such a strategy for making decisions is not unique here. For example, in Romans 15:2–3 Paul grounds his ethical principle that in matters of personal, Christian liberty those who are strong in their faith should please their neighbors rather than themselves in the fact that Christ did not please himself in going to the cross. Similarly, in 15:7 Paul admonishes the Romans to accept one another “just as Christ accepted [them], in order to bring praise to God.” In Philippians 2:1–18, the ethical admonitions of 2:2–5 and 2:12 are grounded in the incarnation, crucifixion, and exaltation of Christ as outlined in 2:6–11. This same Christological orientation is found in 2 Corinthians 1:20 and can be multiplied throughout Paul’s letters.

This means that the key question to be asked in evaluating ambiguous moral situations is not primarily, “What would Jesus do in my place?” but, “What course of action best reflects what Christ has accomplished for us in redemptive history, so that the Trinitarian God will be honored for his merciful actions toward us?” (cf. Rom. 12:1). In Paul’s situation, this meant changing his original plans so that the Corinthians would have the opportunity to contribute twice to the collection being taken up for the poor believers in Jerusalem (1:15). As we will see in chapters 8–9, such an opportunity fits the criterion outlined above, since in showing mercy to those in Jerusalem the Corinthians will be extending to others the very mercy they themselves have received from God in Christ (cf. 8:9).

Paul’s change in plans, in other words, was motivated by his desire to enable those who had received such abundant mercy to be abundantly merciful to others to the glory of God. So too, our actions ought to reflect the character of God’s grace as we have come to know it in Christ. Specifically, our decisions should be motivated by a desire to see the church benefit by extending to others the same mercy she has experienced from God.

Soteriology (1:23–2:4). In 1:23–2:4, Paul makes it clear that, unlike his first change of plans, his second change of plans was not driven by his desire for the Corinthians to be merciful to others, but by his desire to be merciful to the Corinthians themselves. Though the Corinthians had rebelled against Paul and his gospel during the first of his two proposed visits, Paul was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt that the opponents were temporarily misleading them, rather than concluding that they were definitively rejecting Christ. Accordingly, the theological principle guiding Paul’s actions at this point was an extension of his Christology from 1:15–22 into its corresponding soteriology.

The gap between Christ’s coming to die on the cross and his coming again to judge the world demonstrates that God’s purpose is to extend the gospel to the ends of the earth by creating a final opportunity for mercy. Moreover, the instrument of God’s mercy between Christ’s two comings is the proclamation of the gospel itself. In it the good news of God’s grace takes shape against the backdrop of the warning that God’s judgment is sure to come against those who do not trust in Christ, thereby bringing about repentance and reconciliation with God in those in whom the Spirit is at work (cf. 3:3–6; 4:3–6; 5:6–6:2).

In the same way, Paul’s decision not to return to Corinth immediately after his “painful visit” was an act of mercy on his part (1:23). It was not the act of a coward, the expression of anger, or the protective response of someone whose feelings had been hurt. Rather, it was done to spare them God’s wrath, allowing the preaching of the gospel contained in the “sorrowful letter” written in his absence (2:3–4). Both Paul’s delay and his reaffirmation of the implications of the gospel were intended to bring about the Corinthians’ repentance in order that they might be spared the eventual judgment of God (cf. 13:1–10). Paul changed his plans in order to act toward the Corinthians in the same way that God is now acting between the first and second comings of Christ. Like those of Christ, Paul’s actions consequently become a conduit for the revelation of the glory of God’s mercy.

To make the transition from Paul’s context to our own in this regard means, therefore, that we must follow Paul in making two fundamental evaluations. (1) In dealing with opposition within the church, we must discern whether there is any ground for holding open the possibility that those who are currently rejecting the gospel might in fact not be “enemies of the cross of Christ,” whose destiny is “destruction” (Phil. 3:18–19), but merely deceived disciples. When making this evaluation, it is important to keep in mind that Paul erred on the side of thinking the best of the Corinthians, not the worst (cf. 2 Cor. 2:3). And he did so even when the injury was to him.

(2) We must discern whether extending mercy yet again expresses the character of God in Christ, or whether it makes a mockery of God’s character by presuming upon his grace. Paul stresses in chapter 13 that in order to preserve the honor of God’s own character, God’s patience eventually comes to an end. When it does, God’s long-suffering becomes the very ground for his wrath against those who persistently fail to trust in him (see Num. 14:10–35 for the paradigmatic expression of this principle). Faced with unbelief, even among those who claim to follow Christ, our response must therefore always be to warn of the judgment of God rather than to offer a false comfort in the midst of sin (cf. 13:1–10). At the same time, the offer of forgiveness and reconciliation to those who return to Christ must be equally strong. Such a serious and gracious call will be the very means God uses to bring his people to repentance (cf. 7:8–13). Moreover, we must also examine ourselves, to make sure that we too are not presuming on God’s grace in the face of flagrant sin.

Ecclesiology (2:5–11). In 2:5–11, the overarching principle that guided Paul’s application of his own experience to the Corinthians was his understanding of the church. The theology, Christology, and soteriology that informed Paul’s own actions (1:12–2:4) led to an ecclesiology that demanded similar actions and attitudes from the Corinthians. In particular, there are at least four ecclesiological principles guiding Paul’s admonitions in this passage.

(1) Paul’s argument assumes the essential interconnectedness of the body of Christ. One of the implications of this unity had already been expressed to the Corinthians in 1 Corinthians 12:26: “If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it” (cf. 2 Cor. 11:29 for another outworking of this same principle). In our present passage too, Paul’s concern derives from his conviction that the grief, punishment, and forgiveness taking place in the church are not individual matters of private conscience and experience. Paul’s grief is their grief (2:5), and their willingness to forgive others will be matched by his own (v. 10). We too, like the Corinthians, must understand that being part of the Christian community is not simply a slogan. Our local gathering of God’s people is the basis and extension of our own identity. Like a family (we are brothers and sisters in Christ), our fortunes are inextricably intertwined. Such a corporate self-understanding is not easy to maintain in the West, with its transient communities and isolating individualism.

(2) Paul assumes that there will be judgment and ensuing punishment within the body of Christ, just as there will be forgiveness and reconciliation. We must regain the seriousness that surrounds being a member of God’s people. To be part of the community of faith entails a responsibility to hold each other accountable to Christ as judge, under whom and in whose name we are called to a growing obedience and to an open admission of our faults. Such a responsibility will also entail punishing those whose continual and flagrant sin casts scorn on Christ’s call and character as the Lord of the church.

Such a punishment, of course, will require wise and humble discernment. If any doubt remains over whether such a punishment is necessary, our life together calls for the kind of intentional patience that grants the offender yet another opportunity to repent (see above on 1:23–24). In Paul’s day, the Corinthians struggled with knowing when to stop the punishment; in our time we struggle with whether we should ever start. The very mention of “church discipline” makes us uneasy (to say nothing of being concerned about secular lawsuits). Living up to Paul’s expectations in our day will therefore be difficult, given our view of the church as a “club” we have “joined,” rather than a family into which we have been born again.

(3) Paul operates on the assumption that the exercise of genuine faith included not only the courage to punish the offender, but also the willingness to forgive the repentant. As Jesus’ qualifications to prayer demonstrate (cf. Matt. 6:12, 14–15), this twofold test of faith is intimately intertwined. Not to forgive the repentant is evidence that we have not repented and experienced forgiveness ourselves (cf. Jesus’ parable of the unmerciful servant in Matt. 18:21–35). This principle is as relevant today as it has ever been, especially in a litigious society such as ours. But its acceptance as a way of life will depend on regaining a sense of our own sin and need for repentance, a recognition of what it means to be forgiven by a just God and an appreciation of the way in which our attitudes toward others reflect our attitude toward the Lord.

(4) Most fundamental is Paul’s reminder in verse 10 that the lordship of Christ leads to forgiving others for their sake, not to seeking vengeance for one’s own. The power to forgive comes from a God-given recognition that the one who fulfilled God’s promises by being the means of God’s mercy is also the one who fulfills God’s purposes by becoming the agent of God’s judgment. He who has had mercy on us will be the one to judge us, with Christ’s own righteous and merciful character being the essential criterion for evaluation. Those who have received mercy in Christ will be merciful to others, receiving mercy from Christ on the day of judgment.

Hence, motivated by our hope in Christ for the future (1:21–22) because of what he has done for us in the past (1:19–20), we discipline and forgive others in the present, both for the sake of our own spiritual health and for the good of the church (2:10–11). For the spiritual growth of others and the unity of the church are the true source of joy for those being made into the image of Christ (cf. Phil. 2:1–2). As a result, God’s plan for his people is to make punishment the pathway to repentance so that discipline, rather than leading to “excessive sorrow” (2:6–7), purifies our devotion. This is the countercultural message of the gospel. Punishment for the sake of repentance and renewal stands in direct opposition to what in our culture appears to be only “natural,” namely, to punish for the sake of revenge.

Contemporary Significance

THE STRANGENESS OF Paul’s theological justification for his actions reveals just how worldly the church has become. As David Wells points out, “worldliness is that system of values and beliefs, behaviors and expectations, in any given culture that have at their center the fallen human being and that relegate to their periphery any thought about God. Worldliness is what makes sin look normal in any age and righteousness seem odd.”¹²How odd it seems to us in our pragmatism or private piety to realize that, for Paul, God’s self-revelation in Christ, the significance of Christ for history, and Christ’s example of mercy and judgment are the guiding principles of his decision-making. We desperately need to regain a God-centered view of our own lives, in which what we do is measured by what God has done and will do in and through Christ.

Paul’s concern was not whether this or that itinerary corresponded to some hidden “will of God” that he must set out to discover, but whether his itinerary would reflect the character and purposes of God in Christ. In the midst of the many “how to” guides for discovering God’s plan for our lives, we must rediscover the Bible itself as the focal point for finding God’s purposes for our lives. But in turning to the Bible, we must not pervert it into some kind of “Ouija-board” filled with secret messages for our future. The Bible is not fundamentally about us, but about God. Its message is not about my future but about the Future. We should read it not to unearth a new message for this afternoon per se, but to get to know the character and purposes of God for eternity. When confronted with major decisions in life, the question is not, “Do I have a personally revealed word from God about this situation?” but, “What does God’s Word say about the God of this situation?” Paul’s perspective calls us to worry less about finding God’s will for my circumstances and more about discovering God’s character as the pattern for my life.

The worldliness of easy believism. With the rise of modern relativism, our culture increasingly assumes a radical separation between the private and public spheres, that is, between merely personal convictions and public performance. Paul’s argument in this passage makes it clear that it is impossible to draw such a distinction between who we are personally (our “private morality”) and what we do publicly. A genuine experience of God’s grace, with its down payment of the Spirit, will inevitably impact the way we live by revolutionizing what we hope in for our future. Knowing God converts the goals and purposes of our lives as it transforms our values.

Thus, as this passage illustrates so vividly, being re-created by God to “stand firm in Christ” (1:21) changes what makes us happy and what grieves us because it transforms what we love (2:2–4). In the face of the cultural pressures around us, we must therefore resist the counterfeit “easy believism” that downsizes biblical faith into a decision of the will based on an intellectual assent to the truths of history. We must maintain Paul’s understanding of faith as that dependence or trust in God in the present, because of his acts in the past, that leads inevitably to banking our hope on his promises for the future (cf. 1:20–22). Moreover, those who hope in God’s promises love one another (2:4–11). This means that we must fight against what Stephen Carter has shown is the not-so-subtle assumption of our society that whenever our religious convictions “conflict with what one has to do to get ahead, one is expected to ignore the religious demands and act … well … rationally.”¹³ Within Western society at large, to act on religious principles is simply irrational.

In contemporary American culture, the religions are more and more treated as just passing beliefs—almost as fads, older, stuffier, less liberal versions of so-called New Age—rather than as the fundamentals upon which the devout build their lives…. If you can’t remarry because you have the wrong religious belief, well, hey, believe something else! If you can’t take an exam because of a Holy Day, get a new Holy Day! If the government decides to destroy your sacred lands, just make some other lands sacred! If you must go to work on your sabbath, it’s no big deal! It’s just a day off! Pick a different one! If you can’t have a blood transfusion because you think God forbids it, no problem! Get a new God! And through all of this trivializing rhetoric runs the subtle but unmistakable message: pray if you like, worship if you must, but whatever you do, do not on any account take your religion seriously.¹⁴

What a different perspective pervades the present passage. While “we often seem most comfortable with people whose religions consist of nothing but a few private sessions of worship and prayer, but who are too secularized to let their faiths influence the rest of the week,”¹⁵ Paul strove to evaluate all his behavior in view of the character of God. He was convinced that only those actions that correspond to God’s actions in Christ make sense. In our contemporary context, however, doing what “makes sense” in relationship to Christ will increasingly feel “odd” indeed.

In view of this cultural pressure, we need a new boldness for theologically informed conduct within the church, especially for the demonstration of mercy to those who are struggling (1:15–2:4), for the courage to separate from those who continue to claim the name of Christ but deny him with their lifestyles (2:6), and for the willing extension of forgiveness to those who repent (2:7–11). This will entail rejecting our culture’s attempt to privatize morality. We must resist all attempts to drive a wedge between a public pragmatism for the sake of “getting along” in the world and one’s private conscience and personal values. Nowhere is this privatization more evident than in the values reflected in American politics at the end of the twentieth century.¹⁶ In radical contrast, Paul’s example in this text illustrates that our theological and moral commitments at the level of character directly determine our behavior. For Paul, the test of faith is the test of obedience (2:9); rather than a chasm between the two, there should be an ever-narrowing convergence between our Christian confession and our conduct.

The worldliness of competition and corruption. Closely related to the previous point is the fact that Paul’s example and his expectations for the Corinthians directly confront the competition for position and prestige that exists in so many quarters of the contemporary church. Instead of displaying the open transparency that comes from knowing the reality of God’s grace, the greed and immorality of many of our public figures have scandalized the church around the world.¹⁷ Rather than operating secretly for the sake of preserving one’s power, Paul’s practice in this passage calls Christian leaders and administrators to a forthright declaration of the reasons for their decisions.¹⁸

This is especially needed in a day when people “in high places deceive themselves very easily into believing that they are protecting the confidentiality of their high office when in fact they are only covering up their covert corruption.”¹⁹ Too many of our leaders have been more concerned with their own reputations than with the restoration of God’s people. Paul’s practice is a sober reminder that what counts in the church is building the faith of others, not building one’s own “career” (1:24).

The worldliness of self-generated, self-centered joy. In stark contrast to the “me first” mantra of our culture, Paul’s motivation for acting makes clear that within the body of Christ the joy or grief of one is the joy or grief of the other (2:2–4, 5–10). Indeed, as this passage illustrates, Paul worked for his own vindication only to the degree that the faith of others was at stake. What drove Paul was not his own status, but the Corinthians’ participation in the joy that comes from faith (1:24). In turn, the goal of Paul’s ministry was to build up the faith of the Corinthians because this, not the magnification of his own ministry, was also his own source of joy. It was their joy that made Paul glad (2:2). Paul acted as he did because he knew that it would be the restoration of the Corinthians that would make him “rejoice” (2:3a). In short, Paul’s joy was wrapped up with the Corinthians’ progress in faith. Thus, he canceled his second visit because to judge them at that point would not have honored Christ’s purpose in their lives, thereby destroying his joy.

But the converse is also true. Paul wrote the painful letter instead of visiting because he also knew that the joy of the Corinthians was wrapped up in his own joy as well. His love for the Corinthians was driven by his desire that they would share his joy, thereby making his joy complete (cf. Phil. 2:1–4). This is the point of 2 Corinthians 2:3b. Just as Paul’s joy is linked to the restoration of the Corinthians’ faith, the happiness of the Corinthians is intimately tied to the restoration of Paul’s honor, and hence to his joy as an apostle, since as his spiritual children they have been united with him in Christ. Thus, as 2:4 makes clear, both Paul’s changes in plan and his tearful letter are expressions of his love for the Corinthians, even as their repentance is an expression of their love for Paul.

In both cases, their mutual joy is at stake. When one member of the body of Christ suffers, all suffer; when one is honored, all rejoice (1 Cor. 12:26). This is the opposite of being self-centered, in which we use others as a means to our own ends with no thought about their welfare. Instead, the loving person seeks the happiness of others because he knows that his own joy is inextricably wrapped up in their welfare. To be loving, therefore, does not require losing interest in oneself, as if love were a disinterested benevolence. But it does require recognizing that my own needs, in the end, are most profoundly satisfied in meeting those of others.

So what is love? Love abounds between us when your joy is mine and my joy is yours. I am not loving just because I seek your joy, but because I seek it as mine.… love is what exists between people when they find their joy in each other’s joy, [both of which come from] knowing and resting in God’s grace…. When this joy abounds in his converts, Paul feels great joy himself.So [2:3] is the converse of [2:2]. In verse two the point is that their joy is his joy; that is, when they are glad he feels glad in their gladness. And the point of verse three is that his joy is their joy; that is, when he is glad they feel glad in his gladness.²⁰

Paul’s profound insight that the pathway to our own happiness is found in working for the happiness of others stands against the common assumption of our day that true love means giving up our welfare for the sake of others. The basic insight that we all naturally strive to be happy, and that this striving is not frustrated but fulfilled by working for the genuine happiness of others, will revitalize Christian charity by removing the false guilt people are made to feel over wanting to be happy. Seeking the welfare of others does not entail giving up our desire to be happy but is, in reality, the way to meet it. Without this insight, Paul’s call to extend mercy and forgiveness to others will remain an idealistic and unintelligible goal that appears beyond the reach of “normal” people with “real needs.” Of course, Paul’s argument makes no sense unless he is right that only God can meet our deepest needs. Hence, it is only “by faith” that we “stand firm” in joy, since true and lasting happiness comes from knowing God intimately so that we trust him completely (1:24).

While Paul’s admonitions in this passage certainly necessitate serious acts of self-denial, there is no hint of a sad sacrifice in anything Paul says. Only a desire for delight in Christ, not the doing of one’s duty, can motivate extending grace and forgiveness to others in the face of ongoing grief and wrongdoing. In working hard for the restoration of the Corinthians, even at great cost to his own reputation, Paul is no hero or martyr. In suffering for the Corinthians, Paul is a recipient of comfort from God (cf. 1:4–6, 11). Paul’s purity is the product of the grace he received (1:12). The apostle has given up what the world holds dear, but he has gained a greater treasure (cf. Matt. 6:19–21). The only hero worthy of praise is God, since he is the one who makes our lives of grace and love possible by mercifully loving us.

This is why Paul’s theology and ethics lead to doxology (cf. 1:3, 11, 20). As Piper has pointed out, God’s “aim is to ravish our affections with irresistible displays of glory. The only submission that fully reflects the worth and glory of the King is glad submission…. When the kingdom is a treasure, submission is a pleasure.”²¹ And when submission is pleasure, its greatest act of “service” is praise. This is also why Paul is not shy about the fact that his own motivation to act like Christ toward the Corinthians is the joy he derives from doing so (cf. 2:3)! Piper again puts it well:

Gladness and gravity should be woven together in the life and preaching of a pastor in such a way as to sober the careless soul and sweeten the burdens of the saints…. Love for people does not take precious realities lightly (hence the call for gravity), and love for people does not load people with the burden of obedience without providing the strength of joy to help them carry it (hence the call for the gladness).²²

Thus, our applications of this passage must reflect the fact that Paul’s actions in ministry were not a random series of ad hoc responses dictated by his circumstances, but the outworking of deep-seated theological principles and convictions. In this regard, Ben Witherington has summarized an important aspect of the overarching significance of this passage:

It is essential that Christian ministers take stock with some regularity and be clear in their own minds about the proper priorities in ministry, especially for those occasions when two important obligations suddenly and undeniably come into conflict with one another. This is a matter not just of being careful not to promise too much, but also of making clear to the congregation of the minister’s identity as a person under authority and of being ready in any given situation to do what through God’s word, circumstance, conscience, or godly counsel the Holy Spirit is leading toward. Nor is this a matter of providing for oneself an escape clause to justify any sort of action. If a minister makes clear what the priorities will be in ministry in a given situation, the congregation will better understand what they can expect and ought to expect from the minister.Sometimes a foolish consistency leads away from what God is urging in a particular situation. Paul’s example suggests that one must learn when to follow a plan and when to depart from it. This wisdom comes partly through experience, partly through the Word and the Spirit’s guidance, and partly from knowing ahead of time what the priorities are in one’s ministry.²³

But none of the principles for bridging contexts or the suggestions concerning specific applications outlined above will be either relevant or possible unless we reconstitute the church as a Christian community. Paul’s attitudes and admonitions in this passage are all predicated on his presupposition that the Corinthians are the one people of God whose life together constitutes the platform for and firstfruits of the outworking of God’s purposes in history. Throughout this section “one sees again how reluctant Paul is to acknowledge that the injury had been to him as an individual. At every turn and in every way he is extraordinarily insistent that the real danger had been not to himself but to the whole Corinthian church.”²⁴

What is ultimately at stake is not Paul’s personal reputation as an apostle, but the work and witness of God in the world. For that reason, his warning must be equally heeded today: Satan’s scheme is to destroy the unity of the church in Christ (2:11), a unity forged by grace (1:12) and forgiveness (2:7). This is his target, since it is the unity of forgiven sinners forgiving one another that embodies and manifests the love of Christ “in the world … in the holiness and sincerity that are from God” (1:12).