Original Meaning

ONCE AGAIN WE must invest a substantial amount of exegetical labor in order to arrive at the primary point of this passage. Although the significance of 3:7–18 itself may seem slight in comparison to the mountain of historical and theological reflection on which it sits, we must keep in mind that in this passage Paul is putting in place the third and final plank of the foundation he has been laying for his apology as a whole (cf. 2:12–3:3; 3:4–6). Indeed, the remainder of the letter rests on the argument of 2:14–3:18, the theological heart and structural turning point of the letter (see comments on 2:12–3:3).

Moreover, Paul’s commentary on and application of the Scriptures in the two paragraphs now before us (his own “application commentary” on Ex. 32–34) were necessitated by his argument thus far, while at the same time pointing forward to his argument to come. In this sense, 3:7–18 is a hinge between Paul’s argument for his legitimacy in 2:14–3:6 and its resumption in 4:1, offering support in both directions. Looking back, Paul maintained that the similarity between his call and that of Moses, which legitimated his apostolic ministry (cf. 2:16b; 3:4–5), was matched by the difference between their respective ministries, formulated in terms of the letter/Spirit contrast (cf. 3:6), which made up the distinctive content of his apostolic ministry. Called as a mediator of the covenant, Paul was a minister of the new covenant, not the old.

Paul must now clarify and substantiate this thesis. For as the history of the church demonstrates, the thesis-like nature of Paul’s dramatic statement in 3:6 was open to misunderstanding. Indeed, Romans 7:6–7 (written from Corinth!) illustrates that from the very beginning there were those who took Paul’s letter/Spirit contrast to mean that the law was sin. Thus, in order to support his thesis, Paul turns in 3:7–18 to the Old Testament narrative in Exodus 32–34 to explicate the essential difference between the ministries of the old and new covenants. We must, therefore, review this Old Testament backdrop before turning our attention to Paul’s use of it.¹

Exodus 32–34 as the Backdrop for 3:7–18

MOSES’ BREAKING THE tablets of the law in response to Israel’s sin with the golden calf demonstrated that the Sinai covenant was broken from the beginning (cf. Ex. 32:7–9, 19). Although Israel had been rescued from slavery, her idolatry revealed that her “neck” remained “stiff,” enslaved to sin (32:9; 34:9; cf. Deut. 29:1–4). As a result, the Sinai covenant failed in its purpose, in which Israel’s ongoing experience of the glory of God had been intended to purify them to become a holy “kingdom of priests” (cf. Ex. 19:5–6; 20:20). Instead, faced with the sin of the nation, God proclaimed a desire to destroy the people and to start over with Moses (cf. 32:10). Nevertheless, based on God’s unswerving commitment to maintain his own glory (32:11–13), Moses interceded three times on Israel’s behalf in order to keep Israel from being destroyed, to regain God’s promise to lead the people into the Promised Land, and to secure God’s presence with them as they went (32:11–33:17).

God responds positively to Moses’ request to preserve the honor of his reputation, since, by virtue of his own promises to the patriarchs, it is now intertwined with the destiny of Israel (cf. Ex. 2:24–25; 9:16; 14:4, 17–18, 25; 15:1, 6, 11, 21; 16:6–7, 10; 32:13). At the same time, God’s glory consists in his sovereign freedom from all human claims, a freedom he demonstrates by showing mercy to whomever he desires (33:19). Therefore, although God grants Moses’ request to preserve Israel as a nation, the people as a whole remained spiritually hardened. Consequently, in accordance with the covenant stipulations and curses of the law, the judgment of death falls on the three thousand directly involved in the idolatry—so that, in Paul’s words, the “letter kills” (2 Cor. 3:6; cf. Ex. 32:26–28).

Ironically, it is now a faithful remnant, the sons of Levi, who executes God’s judgment against the faithless nation. The Levites, who will now become priests within the people, bring about God’s judgment on the very people who had once been called to be priests. From now on God’s presence will bring punishment for Israel herself, not transformation, since she remains “stiff-necked” (Ex. 33:3, 5). When Yahweh comes to visit his people, that visit will no longer be to bless Israel, but to judge (cf. 3:16; 4:31; 13:19 with 32:34).

This leads to the pressing theological problem of the passage: How can God’s glory continue to dwell in the midst of Israel without destroying her? Initially, God’s glory was forced to dwell outside the camp in the “tent of meeting,” lest God’s presence destroy the people (cf. Ex. 33:7–11). Only Moses, as part of the faithful “remnant,” could approach the presence of God. Moses is not happy with such a solution, however. He recognizes that God’s presence in Israel’s midst is the only thing that distinguishes Israel from the nations around her (33:16). So Moses has no desire to enter the Promised Land without the God of the promise in their midst.

Yet Moses also knows that God cannot dwell in the midst of a stiff-necked people. In his final petition, Moses consequently pleads that he himself, as the mediator of the covenant, might experience God’s glory as the solution to Israel’s dilemma (33:18–23). Because Moses has found favor (grace) before him, Yahweh grants Moses’ startling request. In the end, therefore, Moses becomes the answer to his own prayers and the covenant is restored (34:1–10). Moses receives the law a second time and, with the glory of God beaming on his face, mediates God’s presence to his people (34:11–35).

The narrative makes it clear, however, that although the Sinai covenant is renewed in a second giving of the law (Ex. 34:1–28), the people remain hardened (34:9). As a result, although the Ten Commandments are reestablished (cf. 34:1, 27–28), this time the public declaration of the covenant stipulations focuses on the so-called “cultic commands,” since Israel’s sin with the golden calf was a cultic sin of idolatry (34:12–26). The laws in Exodus 34 highlight Israel’s propensity to sin in view of her sinful condition. The people who were to be a “kingdom of priests” mediating God’s glory to the nations must now be ever mindful of the idolatry of their own hearts and of God’s pronouncement of judgment against them.

God’s covenant with Israel has been restored, but its context has been significantly altered. Thus, when Moses descends from God’s presence on Mount Sinai, his face radiating with the glory of God, Aaron and the people fear his arrival (Ex. 34:29–30). This reaction is best explained as a reflection of God’s prior declaration in 33:3, 5: The presence of God’s glory means Israel’s death. In response, after speaking God’s word to the people, Moses veils his face, not to hide the fact that the glory is fading (there is no evidence for such a supposition in the text), but in order to protect Israel from being destroyed (34:32–33). Given Israel’s “stiff-necked” condition, this remained Moses’ practice from then on (34:34–35).

Moses’ veiled mediation of God’s glory permits his presence to remain in Israel’s midst without destroying her. In this regard, Moses’ veiling himself is an act of mercy. At the same time, the very fact that Moses must veil his face is an act of judgment because of the hardness of Israel’s heart. This veil not only preserves Israel from being destroyed; it also keeps her from being transformed. For as Exodus 20:20 makes clear, the fear of God in response to the revelation of his glory was intended to purify the nation and to keep her from sinning.

From the very beginning, therefore, Israel was separated from the transforming glory of God: first at Mount Sinai (albeit much to Moses’ surprise!), then in the tent of meeting, then behind the veiled face of Moses, and finally within the Most Holy Place in the tabernacle and temple. Eventually, in fulfillment of the covenant curses, Israel’s continuing idolatry leads to a separation even from the Promised Land itself through the destruction of the northern kingdom in 722 B.C. and the exile of the southern kingdom in 586 B.C. (cf. Deut. 27:1–29:29; 31:16–32:44). Hence, the need for a “new covenant,” articulated in Jeremiah 31:31–34 from the brink of the Exile, becomes apparent from the very beginning of Israel’s history (cf. Deut. 30:1–20).

The Old Covenant Ministry of Death (3:7a–b)

AGAINST THIS OLD Testament backdrop, Paul’s argument in 3:7–18 falls naturally into two parts: the interpretation of Exodus 32–34 in verses 7–11 and its application in verses 12–18. The first section is built around a series of three comparisons, all of which follow the qal wahomer (Hebrew) or a fortiori (Latin) style of argument. This type of comparison was well known in both the Jewish and Hellenistic literature of Paul’s day. In it the truth of a greater assertion is based on a corresponding, lesser reality commonly agreed upon by both parties (i.e., “if this is so, then how much more so that …”; cf. vv. 7–8, 9–10, and 11).

Here the focus of these comparisons is between the “glory” of the ministries of the old and new covenants. Within five verses the term “glory” occurs eight times and the corresponding verb “to glorify” twice, and each time, for the sake of emphasis, they are placed in the Greek wording of the text at the end of their respective statements. There can be no doubt: The subject matter of this text is the glory of God.

In introducing this theme, 3:7–11 supports Paul’s apology in two directions: Looking back, it grounds the thesis statement of 3:6b; looking forward, it undergirds the declaration of Paul’s confidence in 3:12, which will in turn support Paul’s not losing heart in 4:1. Moreover, here too, as in 2:16b–3:3, Paul argues for his sufficiency as an apostle on the basis of his “ministry of the Spirit” as a fulfillment of the Scriptures. Paul’s argument thereby exhibits the following parallel structure:

2:16b: Paul’s sufficiency	3:5–6a: Paul’s sufficiency
2:17: First support (Paul’s suffering)	3:6bc: First support (Paul’s ministry of new covenant)
3:1–3: Subsequent support (Paul’s ministry of the Spirit in view of the Scriptures)	3:7–11: Subsequent support (Paul’s ministry of the Spirit in view of the Scriptures)

Just as 3:1 began with a rhetorical question in support of 2:17, so too 3:7–8 begins with a rhetorical question in support of 3:6. But this time Paul expects a positive answer: Since Moses’ ministry came in glory, the ministry of the Spirit surely exists so much more in glory. With this comparison, Paul is not denigrating the character of Moses’ ministry. Just the opposite! Given his a fortiori mode of argument, Paul’s conclusion is only as strong as the premise on which it is built, that is, that Moses’ ministry also “came with glory.” Rather than attributing some inferior quality or lesser quantity to the glory associated with Moses’ ministry, Paul bases his entire argument on the similarity between the glory of Moses’ ministry and that of Paul’s “ministry of the Spirit.”

What is unsettling here is that Moses’ ministry, though glorious, is associated with death. How can Paul affirm that Moses’ ministry was one of glory and at the same time assert that it “brought death”? The foundation of Paul’s argument appears to be self-contradictory and hence self-defeating. In order to make his case, Paul must therefore support the validity of both of these declarations.

In support of his first pronouncement, Paul reminds his readers that the law came “engraved in letters on stone.” This reference to the law as “letter” recalls 3:6, pointing back to the function of the law as that which sets forth God’s covenant stipulations, while at the same time “killing” those who, without the Spirit, cannot fulfill them. The reference to the law being “engraved on stone” points back to the fuller expression “tablets of stone” in 3:3, a description that highlights the law’s divine origin, authority, and permanence (cf. Ex. 24:12; 31:18; Deut. 4:13; 5:22; 9:9–11).

But now, in 2 Corinthians 3:7, Paul is specifically referring to the second giving of the law in Exodus 32–34, which contains the only other mention in the Pentateuch of the stone nature of the tablets (see Ex. 34:1, 4). There the law is described in this way three times in order to underscore that the second giving of the law is like the first. Moreover, 34:1–28 both begins and ends with a reference to the tablets. Just as Moses first received the law within the cloud of God’s glory (cf. 24:15–18), so too Moses’ reception of the second set of stone tablets provides the framework for the renewed manifestation of the glory of God.

In support of his second and pivotal point—namely, that the ministry of the glorious law nevertheless “brought death”—Paul reminds his readers of the result of the law’s coming: “so that the Israelites could not look steadily at the face of Moses because of its glory.” Against the backdrop of Exodus 34:29–35, the significance of this statement is readily apparent. Paul is careful to point out that although the people saw God’s glory for short periods of time, most likely to authenticate Moses’ message (cf. 34:34–35), it was impossible for them to “look steadily” (atenisai²) into Moses’ face, since doing so would mean their destruction (33:3, 5). Here Paul follows the LXX’s translation of Exodus 34:29–30, 35, where the Hebrew reference to the “radiance” of Moses’ face is rendered as the “glory” (doxa) of God. This translation rightly indicates that more is at stake in their inability to gaze at Moses than simply the condition of their eyes. As a “stiff-necked people,” Israel cannot endure the glory of God (32:9–10, 22; 33:3, 5; 34:9).

Viewed in this light, the switch in terminology from the depiction of the law under the old covenant in 3:6 as a “letter,” because of its function as that which killed, to the depiction of the law in 3:7a as “the ministry that brought death,” is motivated by Paul’s desire to express carefully the exact locus of the comparison between the old and the new covenants. The issue at stake is not a contrast between the law and the gospel understood as two qualitatively distinct means of salvation. It is neither the law nor the gospel itself that kills or makes alive, but the absence or presence of the Spirit (3:6c). Apart from the Spirit, the gospel too brings death to those whose hearts are hardened (cf. 2:16; 4:1–6). The issue at stake is the distinct consequences brought about by the respective “ministries” of Moses and Paul. Paul associates Moses’ ministry, not the law as such, with “death,” since it was Moses’ mediation of the glory of God that brought the judgment of God on a rebellious people. This realization leads Paul to his final point concerning the glory of the ministry of death in 3:7.

The Glory of Moses’ Ministry (3:7c)

PAUL’S FINAL STATEMENT in 3:7 is to describe the glory on Moses’ face with the passive participle katargoumenen, which is usually translated here and elsewhere throughout the passage as “fading away” (cf. 3:7, 11, 13). Paul is thus understood to be saying that Moses veiled himself to keep Israel from discovering that the glory was passing away in order to protect his own authority. When Moses subsequently returned to the tent of meeting, he removed the veil, thereby “recharging” the glory on his face. After again showing his face to the people, Moses would then quickly veil himself to hide the fact that the glory was fading away. Rather than protecting Israel from the judgment of God that would have ensued from encountering God’s glory, Moses’ veiling himself was an act of duplicity. Rendered in this way, it is obvious why readers have concluded that Paul radically reinterprets Exodus 34:29–35 against its original context, for there is no indication in 34:29–35 whatsoever that the glory on Moses’ face was fading or that Moses veiled himself to hide something from Israel.

The evidence, however, does not warrant such a translation and conclusion concerning Paul’s argument. A study of katargeo throughout Paul’s writings reveals a narrow semantic field for its meaning and a uniform context for its use. Its Pauline context is consistently eschatological and its meaning is best translated in accordance with its rare, but unvaried use elsewhere in the ancient world, “to render (something) inoperative, ineffective, powerless,” or “to nullify (something) in terms of its effects or impact.”³

The consistency of this usage is striking. Indeed, Paul’s use of this verb warrants its consideration as a Pauline terminus technicus (technical term), usually used to express the significance of the coming and return of Christ for the structures of this world.⁴ In most of Paul’s uses, katargeo expresses that which the gospel does and does not abolish and that which does and does not continue to be in effect as a result of the dawning of the new age of the new covenant. Paul’s characteristic use of this word, therefore, poses in itself the question of the continuity and discontinuity between this age and the age to come.

In no case, however, does katargeo refer to the gradual “fading away” of some aspect of reality. The only evidence pointed to by NT Greek dictionaries and scholars who adopt this reading is 2 Corinthians 3 itself. Nevertheless, when read against the backdrop of Exodus 32–34, there is no indication that Paul himself was creating a new meaning for the word, that is, “to fade away.” Instead, if the universally attested meaning of katargeo is assigned to 3:7c, Paul’s result clause becomes, “so that the Israelites could not look steadily at the face of Moses because of its glory, which was being rendered inoperative (with special regard for the effects of such an action).”

This rendering is in full accord with the intention of Exodus 34:29–35, to which Paul is referring and which makes sense within 2 Corinthians 3 as well. Thus, there is no need to suggest that here and only here katargeo means “to fade away.” Paul’s point is that the glory on Moses’ face was continuously being brought to an end or cut off in regard to its impact (note the passive voice of the verb). Within the context of Exodus 32–34, this reference to the glory on Moses’ face being stopped points to the fact that, if left unattended, Moses’ mediation of God’s glory would have destroyed Israel because of their “stiff-necked” condition (cf. again 33:3, 5).

Once this interpretation is adopted, the natural question posed by Paul’s statement in 3:7 is the identity of the unexpressed agent of this passive action. Who or what was rendering the glory inoperative? Within the context of Exodus 32–34 and in view of Paul’s explicit statement in 2 Corinthians 3:13, the answer must be Moses’ veiling himself. Hence, instead of going beyond the text, and by no means against it, Paul’s interpretation of Exodus 34:29–35 remains faithful to its original meaning. The veiling of Moses’ face in 34:34–35 underscores Paul’s point that because of Israel’s hardened nature as manifested in her sin with the golden calf, Moses’ mediation of the glory of God was a ministry of death. The very need itself for Moses’ veil manifests Yahweh’s judgment against his rebellious people.

The fact that Israel could not gaze into Moses’ face and the consequent necessity of the veil provide the evidence needed to support the propriety of Paul’s description of Moses’ ministry as a glorious ministry of death in support of his earlier statement that the “letter kills.” It is clear that the glory of the letter “kills” because Moses had to veil his face. Moreover, this reading of Exodus 34:29–35 is not novel. It stands at the end of a long line of canonical interpretations of Exodus 32–34 in which Moses’ ministry was interpreted not only as an act of divine mercy and grace, but also as a ministry of judgment on a rebellious people (cf., e.g., Num. 14:26–35; Deut. 1:3, 34–46; 2:14–16; 9:6–8; 29:4; Ps. 78:21–22; 95:10; 106:23, 26; Jer. 7:24–26; Ezek. 20:21–26).

The Glory of the Ministry of the Spirit (3:8)

BY CALLING ATTENTION to God’s judgment embodied in Moses’ veil, Paul’s interpretation of Exodus 32–34 in the result clause of 2 Corinthians 3:7 provides the point of comparison on which his argument in verse 8 now turns. The comparison in 3:7–8 is based on the similarity between the glory of Moses’ ministry of death and that of Paul’s ministry of the Spirit. What drives the argument, however, is not the similarity between the two ministries, but their differences. For the argument to work, the glory of Moses’ ministry cannot be the main point of verse 7, but rather its function as that which brought death. This is reflected in the syntax of verse 7 itself, where the result clause (“so that …”) is the main point. The assertion of verse 8 is based on the fact that Moses’ ministry was a ministry of death, so that the sons of Israel could not gaze into the glory of Moses’ face, which because of their hardened condition had to be veiled to prevent them from being destroyed. Given Israel’s “death” experience under Moses’ ministry, Paul concludes in 3:8 that the ministry of the Spirit mediates the glory of God “even more.”

The structure of Paul’s argument in 3:7 thus makes it clear that the point of the “even more” comparison in 3:8 is not that Paul’s ministry possesses God’s glory in a greater quality or quantity, as if God’s glory is given out in varying degrees. Rather, Paul argues that since the old covenant ministry, which brought death, came in glory, as testified to by its having been veiled, “then how much more must the ministry of the Spirit exist in glory” (3:8, lit. trans.),⁵ since it brings life (3:6c). Paul is arguing for the very existence of glory in the ministry of the new covenant, despite the absence of visible displays of God’s presence, not its degree or kind. The basis of his argument is the consequence (i.e., life) brought about by the ministry of the Spirit, in contrast to that of the ministry of the letter (i.e., death).

In this way, Paul’s comparison in 3:7–8 reflects the difference between the old and new covenants themselves. Just as Israel’s inability supports the glorious nature of Moses’ ministry (if there were no glory in Moses’ ministry, there would be no need for Moses’ veil), the church’s ability supports the glorious nature of Paul’s ministry (if there were no glory in Paul’s ministry, there would be no new life among the Corinthians). Given the distinct purposes of the old and new covenants as encapsulated in the letter/Spirit contrast, the different consequences of their respective ministries demonstrate that Moses and Paul mediate the same glory.

Thus, to support his assertions in 3:7–8, Paul appeals to two sources of uncontested validity. For his description of Moses’ ministry, Paul rests his case on Israel’s experience of death in response to the second giving of the law. For his contrasting description of his own ministry, Paul points to the Corinthians’ experience of life in response to the apostolic mediation of the Spirit. The basis of Paul’s argument for the past is the Old Testament account; for the present it is the reality being experienced in the church. In both cases, Paul’s audience cannot deny either of these presuppositions. Hence, Paul’s ultimate purpose in drawing this comparison is not to demonstrate the superiority of the new covenant over the old (though this is the implied basis of his argument), but to demonstrate his own qualifications to be its minister. At stake is Paul’s legitimacy as an apostle and the reality of the glory of the new covenant he mediates.

The Contrast Between the Two Ministries (3:9–11)

VERSE 9 SUPPORTS verse 8 by reminding Paul’s readers of why the Spirit is now able to live in their midst and in their lives without destroying them (though not translated in the NIV, verse 9 begins with gar, “for”). Moses’ ministry brought about death to those who received the law (v. 7) because it declared and effected God’s sentence of condemnation on those who broke the covenant (v. 9a). In contrast, Paul’s ministry of the Spirit brings life (v. 8) because it declares and effects God’s “righteousness” to those who keep the new covenant by the power of that same Spirit (vv. 6b, 8, 9b). The ministry of the Spirit in 3:8 is parallel to the ministry of righteousness in 3:9, the latter supporting the former. In the same way, the ministry of condemnation in 3:9 supports the ministry of death in 3:7.

Hence, if God’s glory was associated with the ministry that brought condemnation (v. 9a), then all the more the ministry that brings God’s “righteousness” abounds in glory (v. 9b; the NIV translation of perisseuei as “is” is too weak). If God’s presence is the instrument of condemnation, it is also surely the means of salvation. The glory on Moses’ face, by virtue of its having to be veiled, was the means used to carry out God’s condemnation on Israel for her hard-hearted idolatry. In the same way, the glory that now abounds in the new covenant, by virtue of its now being unveiled, is the instrument by which God’s righteousness in Christ is declared and effected in the church. The righteousness bestowed on God’s people as a result of Christ’s death makes it possible for God to dwell in the midst of his people without destroying them, thereby bringing about their righteousness.

Through the experience of God’s glory that it makes possible, the righteousness of God granted to the believer also brings about the believer’s growing transformation into that same righteousness (cf. 3:12, 18). This real experience of God’s glory, here associated with the ministry of the Spirit (3:8) and righteousness (3:9), is an essential aspect of Paul’s apostolic preaching of the cross of Christ (cf. Rom. 5:1–5; 8:2–10; 14:17; Gal. 2:20–21; 3:1–5; 1 Cor. 1:17–19; 2 Cor. 2:15–16a). The presence of God’s glory in the believer’s life, evidenced by his or her new life in and through the Spirit (2 Cor. 3:8),is at the same time an expression of God’s righteousness revealed in the death of Christ for the ungodly (3:9; cf. Rom. 3:21–26; 2 Cor. 5:14–21).⁶

Before introducing the last of his three comparisons, Paul pauses in verse 10 to explain the meaning of the comparison established in verse 9. In turning our attention to this statement we must keep in mind that for Paul, God’s glory remains God’s glory, whether revealed in connection with the law or with the gospel. It is not as if the glory in the new covenant ministry is a substance that is better, stronger, or more brilliant than the revelation of that glory on the face of Moses, as often maintained. Rather, the key to Paul’s thinking is his choice in verse 10 of the summarizing neuter designation, “what was glorious” (to dedoxasmenon). This designation denotes that the apostle is not referring to the law (which in Greek is masculine), or to the glory of the old covenant itself (which in Greek is feminine), or even to the ministry of the glory as such (also feminine). Instead, the abstract or collective use of the neuter indicates⁷ that Paul’s reference is to the ministry of the old covenant as a whole, especially its theological purpose (v. 9a), results (v. 7), and function (v. 6b).

Literally translated, verse 10 reads: “For indeed that which has been glorified is not glorified in this respect because of the surpassing glory.” Paul’s point is not that the ministry of the old covenant as a whole, which has been glorified, is now finally seen to be less glorious in view of the greater glory that has arrived. This view is often supported by interpreting Paul’s statement in terms of an analogy taken from the sun and moon. As a result, the glory of the old covenant is said to be eclipsed by the new, just as the reflected light of the moon pales in the direct light of the sun. Instead, the comparison here is one of divine purpose within redemptive history, not of quality or quantity. The glory of the new covenant surpasses the old in time and intent, not in kind.

As in 3:3, 6, the point of verse 10 is an eschatological one (on the meaning of “surpassing” as a reference to the quality of the new age, cf. 9:12–15). Paul is not saying that the glory of the old covenant pales in comparison to the new, but that the “surpassing glory” of the new covenant now brings “that which had been glorified,” that is, the old covenant, to an end. When one compares the purposes and results of the two covenants, in this respect (the NIV misleadingly reads: “now in comparison”) the former has no glory at all. The meaning of 3:10 can therefore be paraphrased as follows: Because God’s purpose and its results in the new covenant surpass what he has accomplished thus far in the old covenant, therefore that which formerly was the vehicle of revelation of God’s glory is in this respect no longer the means through which God is revealing his glory. Once the new covenant arrives, with its primary purpose of granting new life in the Spirit, the old covenant, with its primary purpose of condemnation, is no longer the locus of God’s glory in the world.

In verse 11 Paul brings this section of his argument to a close by introducing a third comparison. In doing so he continues his use of the neuter designations introduced in verse 10. Paul’s focus is still on the purpose and results of the old and new covenants respectively, with the neuters referring in a broad, encompassing sense to “that which was being rendered inoperative” (to katargoumenon) over against “that which is remaining” (to menon). The introduction of verse 11 with yet another gar (“because”) follows Paul’s stylistic tendency of stringing together assertions in order to undergird his main point with a series of step-by-step supports (the NIV simply translates this “and”).⁸ The assertion in verses 7–8 is supported by verse 9, which in turn is supported by verse 10, which in turn is supported by verse 11. But how does verse 11 support Paul’s assertion that his ministry as an apostle is the vehicle through which the surpassing glory of the new covenant is now being revealed (3:10)?

The answer is found in the two new, interrelated elements in verse 11. (1) Paul transfers the katargeo terminology from its use in verse 7 as a direct reference to the glory on Moses’ face to the old covenant ministry conceived as a whole. The Sinai covenant’s mediation of God’s glory, which as a result of Israel’s “stiff neck” had to be continually rendered inoperative by the veil (3:7), is now itself described as that which was continually being rendered inoperative (3:11). The veiling of Moses’ face (v. 7) demonstrates that the Sinai covenant, from its very beginning, was hindered from accomplishing its purpose of establishing God’s immediate and abiding presence among a sanctified people (v. 11; cf. Ex. 19:5–9; 20:20).

(2) Paul describes the new covenant ministry as that which “remains,” “lasts,” or “persists” (meno). This verb recalls its earlier use in 1 Corinthians 3:14, where it referred to that work that “survives” beyond the eschatological judgment, and in 13:13, where it referred to faith, hope, and love as the three things that “remain” in the future eschatological era. In this latter context, as in 2 Corinthians 3:11, katargeo again forms the counterpart to meno as a description of those things that are abolished or do not “remain” eschatologically (cf. 1 Cor. 13:8, 10, 11).

Moreover, Paul’s quote from Psalm 111:9 (LXX) in 2 Corinthians 9:9 indicates that he can link the notion of being abolished (katargeo) or remaining (meno) at the eschatological judgment to the psalmist’s declaration that the Lord’s “righteousness endures [meno, remains] forever.” Only those things based on God’s own righteousness can stand the test of his “righteous judgment” (Rom. 2:5; cf. 3:4–5; 2 Cor. 5:10; 2 Thess. 1:5). What remains eschatologically in 1 Corinthians 3 and 13 does so because it corresponds to God’s “righteousness” that “remains.” Thus, the new covenant “remains” in force since it reveals the righteousness of God that lasts forever (cf. Jer. 32:37–40).⁹ It is this “remaining” (2 Cor. 3:11) new covenant (3:10) of the Spirit (3:8), based on the righteousness of God (3:9), that Paul was called to minister (3:4–6).

The Boldness of the New Covenant Ministry (3:12–13)

IN 3:12–18 PAUL draws out the implications of his argument from 3:7–11 concerning the “glory” of the two ministries. In doing so he switches his focus from a comparison between the ministries of the old and new covenants to their essential difference. Paul derives this difference from the necessity of Moses’ veil over against his own “unveiled” apostolic ministry. Accordingly, Paul’s assertions concerning his boldness (v. 12), the hardness of Israel’s minds (v. 14a), Israel’s current relationship to the old covenant and Moses (vv. 14b–15), and the contrast between Israel’s situation and the experience of Christians (vv. 16–18) are all based on the meaning and significance of Moses’ veil.

As the inference (“therefore”; Gk. oun) and summary statement “since we have such a hope” indicate, in 3:12 Paul draws the conclusion to which 3:7–11 naturally leads. Based on 3:8, the main point of 3:7–11, Paul’s confident expectation (i.e., his “hope”; cf. the parallel between 3:4 and 3:12) is that through his own life and message as a minister of the new covenant (3:6) the glory of God is being mediated to God’s people in the Spirit (3:11). Because he has this “hope,” Paul is therefore “very bold” (note the continuation of the apostolic plural “we” in 3:12).

The word translated “bold” (parresia) in 3:12 is a technical term from the political realm that was associated with freedom and truth. In moral contexts such as this, it refers to a shamelessness in one’s behavior that leads to a free, courageous, and open manner of speech.¹⁰ The power of the Spirit in Paul’s ministry (3:8) has made Paul fearless and forthright in his proclamation of the gospel (3:12; cf. Rom. 1:16–17). Ultimately, this boldness arises from his assurance that his life and labors derive from God’s grace in his life, that they are being carried out in God’s presence, and that they will be vindicated before God’s judgment (cf. 2 Cor. 1:12; 2:17b–3:3, 7–11; cf. 1 Cor. 4:1–5; Phil. 1:20).

In 3:13, Paul illustrates the bold character of his ministry by drawing a contrast between his own ministry and Moses’ need to veil himself. Here too, as in 3:7, the dominant approach has been to take verse 13 to refer to Moses’ practice of hiding from Israel the fact that the glory on his face was coming to an end (to telos) because of its fading nature (katargeo). Read in this way, Moses is pictured as being less than honest with Israel, while Paul is able to speak the truth boldly to the church. Since there is no mention in Exodus 34:29–35 of any such motive for Moses’ action or that the glory was fading, it is therefore common to conclude that in making this point Paul willfully goes beyond, or even against, the Old Testament text. The contrast in 3:13 is consequently seen to be Paul’s clever attempt to denigrate his opponents’ position by devaluing Moses’ ministry.

Nevertheless, when interpreted within the context of Exodus 32–34 already picked up by Paul in 3:7–11, and with a more appropriate understanding of katargeo (see comments above), Paul’s affirmation is different from what is usually portrayed. Like 3:7, 3:13 refers to Moses’ practice of veiling himself as a result of Israel’s hard-heartedness. Now, however, Paul turns his attention from the consequences of Moses’ ministry, which formed the heart of the comparison in 3:7–11, to the distinction in purpose between Moses’ veiling himself and Paul’s own ministry of preaching the gospel openly.

In 3:7a, the glory of Moses’ ministry itself, with its effect of death, resulted in Israel’s inability to gaze into the face of Moses (Gk. hoste plus infinitive). As its corollary, in 3:13 it is Moses’ practice of veiling himself that brings about Israel’s inability (Gk. pros to plus infinitive). Because Israel was not able to gaze into Moses’ face (3:7), Moses veils himself in order that they might not do so (3:13). Whereas in 3:7–11 Paul based his comparisons on their different results, in 3:13 he bases his comparison on their different intentions or goals. In the first instance, Israel was not able to gaze continuously into the glory on the face of Moses because in her “stiff-necked” condition it would have destroyed her (3:7). In the present instance, Moses veiled himself both to embody this judgment and to mediate the mercy of the renewed covenant.

In verse 13b Paul makes this purpose explicit by calling attention to Moses’ intention in veiling the glory of God (pers. trans.): “in order to keep the Israelites from gazing at the outcome [NIV “it”; Gk. to telos¹¹] of that which was being rendered inoperative in terms of its consequences [tou katargoumenou; again in the neuter as an abstract reference to the old covenant as a whole].” In our context, this outcome or telos can only refer to the death-dealing judgment of God’s glory on his “stiff-necked” people.

In 3:12, Paul is not declaring that he is open and honest in contrast to Moses’ conscious or unconscious deception. Rather, unlike Moses, he is free to preach the gospel in the knowledge that the present revelation of God’s glory need not be veiled from those to whom he is sent, since its outcome (telos) is life, not death (cf. 3:6). Whereas Moses had to veil himself as an act of judgment toward a rebellious people, Paul need not “veil himself” before a people whose disposition toward God has been radically changed by the Spirit (3:3–6).

Paul is keenly aware of the implications of what he has just said, not only for the significance of his own ministry, but also for those whom he encounters (cf. 2:15–16a). The contrast established between Moses and Paul in 3:12–13 means that only those who are accepting Paul’s bold message number among the people of God to whom his glory is now being revealed. Paul’s argument therefore raises some troubling questions. If Paul is openly mediating God’s glory among his people in fulfillment of the promises of the new covenant, why are the “Israelites” not accepting Paul’s ministry? Does Israel’s rejection of Paul’s message not call into question his legitimacy as an apostle? If not, why has Israel failed to respond to the gospel? Is Israel no longer the locus of God’s presence in the world?

The Continuing Hardening of Israel (3:14–15)

COMMENTATORS HAVE LONG struggled with the transition from 3:13 to 3:14. Where we would expect a supporting statement (i.e., “Moses veiled himself to keep the Israelites from gazing into the goal of that which was being rendered inoperative because their minds were hardened”), Paul introduces a strong contrast (cf. alla in v. 14a; “but” in NIV).¹² This difficulty derives from attempting to relate the strong contrast of 3:14 directly back to 3:13b. Though possible, there is another option grammatically. Instead of relating 3:14a directly to the purpose clause of 3:13b, the contrast of 3:14 may be taken back to 3:12–13a as part of a “not … but” (ou … alla), negative-positive construction. Read in this way, 3:13b becomes a parenthetical reflection on the significance of 3:7.

The flow of the argument from 3:12–14 then reads as follows: “We are very bold. That is to say, we are not like Moses (who would put a veil over his face …). But their minds were hardened [NIV dull¹³]….” Since the Spirit is being poured out through his ministry, Paul can only conclude that “the Israelites” continue to reject the gospel because, from the very beginning of her covenant history, “their minds were hardened” (3:14a). In spite of his bold proclamation, Israel is not responding to Paul for the same reason she did not respond to Moses: From Sinai on, Israel has been hardened [by God!] to the revelation of God’s glory in her midst (taking the aorist “were hardened” to be gnomic¹⁴ and a divine passive).

The evidence for this evaluation is given in 3:14b–15, where Paul again turns to the veil of Moses from Exodus 34:29–35. This time Paul uses Moses’ veil as a metonymy.¹⁵ Israel’s hardened nature as manifested in her sin with the golden calf is represented by Moses’ veil, employing the consequence for its underlying cause.¹⁶ As a result, the veil can now move in Paul’s argument from that which originally resided on Moses’ face to that which now lies over the reading of the old covenant in 3:14 to that which lies over Israel’s heart in 3:15.

Decoded, Paul’s symbolism is clear. Because Israel’s hardened condition can only be rendered inoperative in terms of its impact (NIV “taken away”; Gk. katargeo) “in Christ” (3:14d), Israel’s large-scale rejection of the gospel indicates that she remains in the same hardened condition that has characterized her history ever since the golden calf (3:14c, 15a). The very one whom they reject is the only one who can remove their blindness. Only “in Christ” can the Spirit remove the heart of stone (cf. 3:2–3, 8–9). This has consequences both for Israel’s reading of the Scriptures and for her own spiritual state.

(1) The first implication of Israel’s hardened condition is hermeneutical. Even though the age of the new covenant has dawned, “to this day” Israel remains veiled, that is, hardened to the significance of the very law that was intended to lead her to the Messiah (vv. 14b, 15a). As 3:14b and 15a make clear, this is not because the real meaning of the Sinai covenant is somehow hidden or veiled, but because Israel is veiled (= hardened) whenever “Moses is read.” Here too we have a metonymy. Just as Moses’ “veil” now represents Israel in her hardened state, “Moses” himself represents the old covenant as codified in the law.

Again the meaning is clear. When Israel reads the Scriptures in her hardened condition, she stubbornly refuses to go where the biblical text leads. For as the metonomy of the “veil” signifies, Israel’s “hermeneutical problem” is not intellectual, but moral. The “veil [that] covers [Israel’s] heart” (v. 15b) does not refer to a cognitive inability because of a lack of a special spiritual endowment, but to a volitional inability as a result of a hardened disposition. The meaning and significance of the old covenant is not an esoteric secret to be unlocked by a special “Christian” revelation. In other words, the issue in 3:14–15 is not that Israel cannot understand intellectually the implications of her history under the old covenant and her consequent need for the death of the Messiah. Rather, the problem is that she will not accept it as true for her. Israel’s “stiff-necked” condition continues to “veil” her response to the Sinai covenant.

(2) The second implication of Israel’s hardened condition is spiritual. The description of Israel’s condition in 3:14–15 indicates that her large-scale rejection of Christ does not call into question the legitimacy of Paul’s own apostolic ministry or the validity of his gospel as the revelation of God’s glory. To make this point, Paul has used the scriptural pattern of seeing Israel’s current rejection of God’s work as evidence that Israel remains in the same hardened state that has characterized her from the beginning.¹⁷ This interpretation of Israel’s present state as a reflection of her past history of rebellion is reflected in Paul’s incorporation into his own argument of the biblical phrases “to this day” and “even to this day” (3:14–15). These phrases recall the parallel designation in Deuteronomy 29:4 (v. 3 in LXX), where Moses declares that, despite the Lord’s deliverance from Egypt, “the LORD has not given [Israel] a heart to know, and eyes to see, and ears to hear until this day.”

Within its original context, this divine prerogative not only explains Israel’s past disobedience, but also grounds Moses’ proclamation that Israel will continue to break the covenant in the future, suffering the judgment of the Exile as a result. Further confirmation that Paul’s use of the phrase “(even) to this day” is a reference to the scriptural pattern of viewing Israel’s present in terms of her past is found in Jeremiah and Ezekiel. Both prophets use the same designation to underscore that Israel’s plight in their time was evidence that Israel’s rebellion was continuing unabated from the days of their fathers.¹⁸ So too in Paul’s day, as in the days of Moses and the prophets, the problem is not with Paul’s gospel, but with Israel herself.

Thus, in supporting the legitimacy of his ministry, Paul again builds his argument on the testimony of the law and the prophets (note that his language in 3:14–15 comes from Moses and the same two prophets referred to in 3:3–6). Rather than calling Paul’s ministry and message into question, Israel’s rejection of the gospel is evidence that she remains in the same hardened state that Moses encountered and predicted would continue into the Exile and that the prophets consequently met in their own lifetimes. Hence, as Paul explicitly puts it for the first time in Christian literature, Israel continues to subscribe to the “old covenant,” even though the new covenant has been established (3:14).

Paul’s introduction of the terminology “old covenant” is a declaration of his eschatology, not a denigration of the law. He refers to the Sinai covenant as “old” only because he is convinced that Jesus, as the Christ, has inaugurated the “new covenant” of Jeremiah 31:31–34 and Ezekiel 36:26–27 (cf. again the allusions to these two texts in 2 Cor. 3:3, 6). The designation “old” is not a pejorative evaluation of the content of the Sinai covenant, but an eschatological designation of its fulfillment. To speak of it as “old” is to view the covenant ministered by Moses through the lens of the dawning of the “new covenant” ministered by Paul.

The Conversion of the Remnant (3:16–18)

HAVING SPOKEN TO the issue of Israel’s rejection of the gospel in 3:14–15, in 3:16–18 Paul returns to Moses’ experience with the veil one last time. Now, however, he brings out its significance not for unbelieving Israel, but for those who have responded to Christ. Paul begins by paraphrasing Exodus 34:34a, which contrasts Moses’ veiling himself before the people with his practice of removing the veil when he spoke with the Lord in the tent of meeting. This again highlights the contrast between Israel’s inability to encounter God’s glory because of her “stiff-necked” state, which necessitated the use of the veil, and Moses’ ability to encounter the glory of God unveiled as one whose heart had been transformed by the Spirit. But whereas in Exodus 34:34 it was Moses who entered before the Lord unveiled, in 2 Corinthians 3:16 “anyone [who] turns to the Lord” has the veil taken away. And whereas in Exodus 34:34 Moses removes the veil, in 2 Corinthians 3:16 “the veil is taken away” by God (note the divine passive).

The switch in subject in 3:16 indicates that Paul regards Moses’ experience to be the prototype of those believers under the new covenant who follow Moses “to the Lord.” This reading is confirmed by the connotation of conversion introduced by the use of the verb “to turn”¹⁹ and the emphasis on the passive nature of the veil’s removal. For believers, as for Moses, the veil has been removed from their “hardened mind” (3:14) as a result of having their “heart of stone” removed by the Spirit (cf. 3:6).

Against the backdrop of Exodus 34, the “Lord” (kyrios) in view in verse 16 is not Christ, in whom the veil of hard-heartedness is taken away (2 Cor. 3:14b), but Yahweh, to whom one turns once the veil has been removed. Although kyrios in Paul’s writings generally refers to Christ, this is not the case when Paul is quoting Scripture or working with a scriptural context.²⁰ Paul’s use of “the Lord” to refer to Yahweh in 3:16 corresponds to the other ten times in Pauline citations of the Old Testament in which kyrios reflects the Septuagint’s use of this word to translate Yahweh in the Hebrew text.²¹ At this point in his argument, Paul is thinking theologically, not Christologically. Like Moses, so too the one who “turns to the Lord” in conversion encounters the glory of God without fear of destruction. The hard heart of rebellion has been removed (3:3, based on Ezek. 11:19; 36:26–27) and forgiveness received (2 Cor. 3:6, based on Jer. 31:31–34)—all based on the righteousness that comes from Christ (2 Cor. 3:9).

The age-old problem of the apparent identification of Jesus with the Spirit in 3:17a can now be seen to be the creation in large measure of interpreting this statement apart from its Old Testament background. As a further development of 3:16, there is no indication that in verse 17a Paul has suddenly substituted Christ for Yahweh. Since the kyrios of 3:17a is still Yahweh, the “is” of 3:17a is therefore better rendered “means.”²² In 3:17, Paul is not identifying Christ and the Spirit. Rather, he is making it abundantly clear that Moses’ experience of Yahweh in the tent of meeting is equivalent to the current experience of the Spirit in Paul’s ministry, just as Paul referred earlier to the Spirit mediated through his ministry as the “Spirit of the living God” (3:3). Paul’s point is that those who are presently living under the new covenant in Christ are in direct continuity with the revelation of Yahweh begun at Sinai.

In this context, the “freedom” spoken of in 3:17b implies a freedom from the veil of hard-heartedness that is unable to enter into the presence of the Lord (3:7, 9, 13–14). Nevertheless, this negative reading of the freedom in view in 3:17a as a “freedom from” is most likely not the major thrust of Paul’s statement. In contexts such as this one, where he is not referring to the political and social status of being “free,”²³ Paul uses the concept of “freedom” primarily to refer to the positive results of having been “set free” from sin (cf. Rom. 6:16–23; 1 Cor. 7:39; 9:1; 10:29). In our present passage, this positive result is a freedom for an obedience to the law that flows from the power of the Spirit as promised by Jeremiah and Ezekiel (2 Cor. 3:3, 6).

As such, this freedom is the reversal of the state of affairs illustrated in Exodus 32–34. The force of Paul’s argument in 2 Corinthians 3:17 can now be uncovered. Just as Israel’s persistent hardening to the demands of the old covenant could be adduced in 3:14–15 as evidence of her continuing separation from God, so too the Christians’ “freedom” for obedience to the law can be adduced as evidence of their being in the presence of Yahweh.

In 3:18 Paul closes his argument by drawing the conclusion that naturally follows from his identification of Yahweh with the Spirit, who is the power of new life (3:6b). The meaning of Paul’s statements in 3:18, despite their complicated mode of expression, can be paraphrased as follows. Since the Lord is the Spirit, as demonstrated by the freedom (from the veil) for obedience that the Spirit creates (v. 17), “we all”²⁴—that is, all members of the new covenant community, both Jews and Gentiles—“are being transformed into the same image” (NIV “into his likeness”). In other words, by the power of the Spirit we are experiencing in a progressive sense more and more of this freedom to obey God, and as a result we are being changed into God’s own image by becoming obedient to his will. To be in the image of God is to manifest his “likeness” by acting in accordance with his commands as an expression of God’s own nature.

This moral transformation of God’s people marks the decisive difference between the ministries of the old and new covenants. Moreover, the allusion in 3:18 to the image of God from Genesis 1:26–27 points forward to Paul’s later identification of the new covenant with the new creation (cf. 4:6; 5:17). Just as those in Adam disobey God’s will, those in Christ, the second Adam, are being brought back into the relationship of faith-generated obedience that characterized Adam and Eve before the Fall. As in the Garden of Eden before the Fall and at the Exodus before the golden calf, the new creation is characterized by encountering God himself.

In Paul’s words, this transformation is taking place “with ever-increasing glory” (lit., “from glory unto glory”). To say that we are being transformed into his likeness “from glory” means that the believer’s gradual growth in obedience pictured in 3:18 takes place in response to God’s presence. To say that we are being transformed into his likeness “unto glory” means that the final result of becoming more and more like him in anticipation of the final consummation of this age is that we will one day participate in his glory in all its fullness. Our life with God begins and ends by entering into his glorious presence—now in the Spirit, then face to face.

For this reason, the present transformation of God’s people “comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit,” since the Spirit is the down payment of God’s presence and power in our lives (1:20–22; 3:3–6, 8). Finally, this transformation takes place because, from beginning to end—that is, from glory unto glory—“we behold as in a mirror” (not “reflect,” as in the NIV25) the glory of the Lord without being destroyed by it, since we do so “with unveiled faces.”

The spiritual and moral transformation pictured in 3:18 is the final support for Paul’s prior assertion that Israel continues to be hardened “to this day” (3:14a, 15b), which in turn supports the validity of Paul’s bold ministry in spite of his lack of success among his fellow Jews (3:12–13). If the people of Israel in Paul’s day had not continued to be hardened like their “fathers” before them, they too would be able to behold the glory of God on the face of Christ and be transformed by it. Moreover, that Moses provides a type of the believer’s experience (3:16–17), in contrast to the ongoing experience of Israel in her stiff-necked condition (3:14–15), demonstrates that a remnant of Jews and Gentiles is still being saved (3:18; 5:17).

Furthermore, this restoration of God’s people in Christ is taking place through the gospel as embodied and proclaimed in Paul’s own ministry. As a mediator of the glory of God on the face of Christ (cf. 4:4, 6), Paul’s “ministry of the Spirit” (3:6, 8) is the means by which the prophetic expectation of the new creation under the new covenant is already beginning to be realized. At the center of the “new creation” is the manifestation of God’s presence in the midst of his people, both Jew and Gentile, in anticipation of the final redemption of all creation.²⁶

The result of this present revelation of God’s glory is a life of growing obedience to God’s commands, in stark contrast to Israel’s present rebellion and the continuing wickedness of the nations. It is this transformation “from glory unto glory” that supports Paul’s legitimacy, so that he needs no “letter of recommendation” beyond the Corinthians themselves (3:1–3). As new creatures in Christ (cf. 5:17) under the new covenant (3:6; cf. 6:16–18), the Corinthians testify by their Spirit-induced obedience that the glory of God is now being revealed in their midst, unveiled, through Paul’s apostolic ministry.

Bridging Contexts

RECOVERING THE THEOLOGICAL purpose of this passage is the key to its application. The danger that confronts us when we encounter a passage that is as carefully argued and conceptually rich as this one is that we will not invest the necessary time and effort to understand it on its own terms. Instead, in our haste to be “practical” and “relevant,” we fall prey to the temptation to isolate individual statements from their context and to extrapolate from them abstract, theological principles that will “preach” (such as a “law/gospel contrast,” “the glory of the ministry,” or a rallying cry for “freedom in the Spirit”). In doing so in this passage, we will miss the fact that, as the very heart of Paul’s apology for the legitimacy of his apostolic ministry, the purpose of his argument in 2:14–3:18 is to support his statements of confidence and hope in 3:4 and 3:12.

Thus, in order to apply this passage appropriately, we must make Paul’s main points our main points. On the one hand, Paul is confident that as a minister of the gospel he mediates the Spirit through his suffering (3:3–6, 8). On the other hand, Paul’s hope as a servant of the new covenant is that his ministry of the Spirit will transform God’s people into the very character of God himself (3:9, 16–18). Paul is fully aware, therefore, that his sufficiency derives not from himself, but from God through Christ (3:5–6). Conversely, the evidence of his legitimacy is not his own abilities and accomplishments, but the transforming work of the Spirit in the lives of God’s people (3:3, 18). This means that those who reject his gospel do so because of the hardness of their own hearts (3:13–15).

These realities have universal application. We too must derive our sense of sufficiency for the tasks to which God has called us from the power of his Spirit in and through us. The confidence that undergirds the ministry of the pastor and the life of the believer does not come from techniques or training, but from God’s call and the reality of God’s Spirit. This is the great news of the gospel and the foundation of our “hope,” that is, of our absolute confidence for the future.

Bringing Paul’s message in this passage from his day to our own is thus more a matter of patient interpretation than it is of recovering historical or cultural insights, either from Paul’s day or our own. This section is one of theological exposition, not theological application. Paul’s argument climaxes with indicatives, not imperatives. The implications are therefore implied, not explicit, and have to do with gaining right perspectives, not developing specific practices. Nevertheless, the perspectives that the apostle develops in this passage, being foundational to his entire letter, are of fundamental significance in and of themselves, both theologically and in terms of Paul’s method of argument.

Moreover, Paul’s recourse to the history of Israel as taught in the Scriptures and his recognition of a “hermeneutic of the heart,” in which only those who want to accept the message of Scripture will go where the text leads, restrains our own source and means of application. We too, like Paul, must strive to view our present context through the lens of the history of redemption, beginning with the history of Israel as interpreted in the Bible. God has revealed his authoritative Word in a space and time that is not our own. The Scriptures, not our own private, mystical experiences, constitute revelation. Hence, we too, like Paul, must find the justification for our own self-understandings in the message of Scripture itself. At the same time, we must remain mindful that without the work of the Spirit in softening our hearts, we too may twist Paul’s often difficult-to-understand words in order to justify ourselves, to our own destruction (cf. 2 Peter 3:16).

Contemporary Significance

IN A REAL sense, therefore, the contemporary significance of this text is in the original meaning of the text itself, since it maps out the historical framework for understanding who Paul was as an apostle of Christ and who we are as people of the new covenant. In regaining this perspective, we regain a sense of our own place and privilege in the world and within the history of redemption, without which we are doomed to drown in the passing currents of contemporary culture. In particular, the passage before us grounds the specific applications that Paul will draw from it throughout his letter by establishing two fundamental perspectives, one theological and one methodological, both of which are of crucial significance for today.

The implications of Paul’s theological worldview: living in the midst of an inaugurated eschatology. Though we are almost two thousand years farther down the road of redemptive history, we too live under the same “new covenant” that marked out Paul’s ministry and determined the life of his church (see Contemporary Significance section to 3:4–6). Accordingly, we too live in the tension that now exists between the inauguration of the new covenant and its consummation. In Christ, the deliverance of God’s people has taken a giant step forward toward its climax, but this climax has not yet been realized. The kingdom of God is here, but it is not yet here in all of its fullness. The age of the new creation has dawned (2 Cor. 5:17), but the “present evil age” still continues (cf. Gal. 1:4). As a result, believers find themselves between the first and second comings of Christ.

In our present passage, there are two negative consequences of this overlapping of the ages. (1) Israel’s current rejection of Christ means that as a nation she continues under the same condition that has characterized her history ever since the golden calf (3:13–15). In this regard, God’s promises concerning Israel’s restoration still await fulfillment, while the church suffers the pain of being separated from her own spiritual ancestors. Even more painful is that Israel’s rejection of Christ sometimes calls into question the truth of the gospel itself, in this case as taught and embodied in Paul’s ministry. Faced with Israel’s unbelief, Christians often wonder if the gospel of salvation in Christ alone as the Messiah is just as true and necessary for the Jews, the descendants of Israel, as it is for Gentiles. Paul’s argument for the legitimacy of his boldness in 3:12–15, as harsh as it may appear in our age of pluralism, is intended to silence such doubts.

(2) There is also the realization that the remnant of God’s people from among both Jews and Gentiles is still in the process of being transformed into God’s image (3:18). In this regard, the promises of God concerning the redemption of his people still await fulfillment, while the church suffers the pain of her own sin, both personal and corporate. What is even more tragic, however, is that in many cases those within our churches show no such pain at all over their sin, but have simply succumbed to an easy-believism in which lip-service has replaced lifestyle as the mark of a Christian. Faced with the impotence of the church itself, Christians often wonder whether the promises of new life in Christ really apply to this day and age at all, or whether our only hope for deliverance from the power of sin is death. Paul’s argument for the legitimacy of his boldness in 3:16–18, as convicting as it may be to us in our age of repentance-less Christianity, reminds his readers of the upward call in Christ, “from glory unto glory.”

Hence, it is important to realize that the main thrust of Paul’s argument is not negative but positive. His point is his confidence and boldness as an apostle because of the life-changing reality of the Spirit. Though the old age continues, the new age of the new covenant is here. Though those around us have veils on their hearts, we all, like Moses, can enter into the presence of God with unveiled faces. Though some have fallen prey to Satan, now disguised as an angel of light, those who know Christ are being transformed by God’s glory into the glory of God’s likeness.

In view of these tensions, the church today, like the Corinthians of Paul’s day, is often tempted by the lure of an “over-realized eschatology” that promises an escape from the consequences of living in the midst of a sinful world. Like Paul’s opponents, we too are often convinced that Paul suffered too much to be a Spirit-filled apostle of Christ. Nevertheless, God is creating a “remnant” from among both Jews and Gentiles who, by their ongoing moral transformation, testify to the presence and power of God’s Spirit in their lives. For those who have benefited from the “ministry of the Spirit” and “righteousness,” conformity to Christ in the midst of adversity, not miracles and minimizing the glory in the gospel, is the primary evidence that the kingdom of God is here (1:7; 2:12–14; 3:18). Their “obedience that comes from faith” (Rom. 1:5) makes it evident that only “in Christ” can such a salvation take place, since only Christ’s death can make it possible for the Holy Spirit of God to invade our lives with mercy rather than judgment (3:15–16).

As the “letter from Christ” written “with the Spirit of the living God” (3:3), the church is therefore a local outpost of the kingdom of God and his righteousness in the midst of this evil age. As such, she lives in confident anticipation of her final redemption, having received the Spirit as God’s own “deposit” or down payment (1:22). Having received the Spirit, the believer has also received a revelation of God’s righteousness (cf. 3:8 with 3:9). This righteousness is his just character, as demonstrated in the consistency of his actions toward his creation. Specifically, this righteousness consists in his unswerving commitment to glorify himself by maintaining his moral standards in judgment, by revealing his sovereignty in election, and by showing his mercy through meeting the needs of his sinful people.

Because of Christ’s life and death, these displays of God’s righteousness are not in conflict with one another. In Christ, God’s righteousness toward his sinful people can begin with their election, work itself out in the forgiveness of their sins, and culminate in their deliverance from sin. The display of God’s righteous activity toward his sinful people thus includes both their redemption because of Christ and their transformation in Christ, as well as their final restoration into the image of Christ in the age to come (cf. 3:18; 4:4–6; 5:21; 8:9). The death of Christ makes possible the righteousness of God in all three of these ways.

Hence, the flip side and expression of God’s righteousness displayed on our behalf is our transformation into the likeness of God himself. The evidence that we have been sealed in the Spirit is the growing life of the obedience of faith that flows from the presence and power of the Spirit in one’s life. All of this is from God. None of this is works righteousness, since in no place does God ever call for and anticipate that anybody can or should try to merit grace. He never says, “Get your act together for six weeks and then I will bless you.” The indicatives always precede the imperatives. But there are no bare, naked indicatives without the imperatives that flow from them. For this reason and from our perspective, God’s work of transforming us into his image is manifest in the perseverance of the saints, even in the face of suffering and death. This, then, is the central theme to be developed throughout the letter.

A fundamental principle thus emerges from the content of Paul’s argument and the structure of the covenant that lies beneath it. Despite the vast cultural differences between Paul’s day and our own, his conviction that the Spirit’s work in transforming God’s people is the distinguishing characteristic of the church, including his apostolic ministry of the gospel, remains a constant. In contrast to the mixed character of Israel under the old covenant, by definition the apostles and people of the new covenant are those whose values and corresponding way of life are being converted by the power and presence of God. Paul’s confidence that the Spirit is being poured out on God’s people under the new covenant (3:4) leads directly to his conviction that God’s people will become increasingly more like God himself (3:12, 16–18; cf. Eph. 5:1).

The implications of Paul’s method: a call back to the Bible. In addition to what Paul says, a key principle for doing theology emerges from how Paul goes about saying it. Not merely his message, but his method is instructive for our contemporary context. In short, Paul’s mode of argumentation in this strategic text makes it clear that although he argued from the presence and power of the Spirit in his ministry, the Scriptures are the final court of appeal for adjudicating disputes. For this reason, he turns to the Mosaic law and the Old Testament prophets in 3:3–18 to establish the criterion by which he defines the character and purposes of his new covenant ministry, as well as what it means to be members of this covenant.

For this same reason, to move forward from Paul’s day to our own entails moving backward to the same Scriptures that Paul read as the sourcebook for his Christian identity and understanding (plus, today, the New Testament). In any context, the ministry of the gospel must derive its impetus and contours from the power and presence of the Spirit in conjunction with the intention of the Scriptures. The Spirit (3:8) and the Word (3:14–15) are one. Paul’s convictions concerning his ministry in 3:7–18 are all based on his interpretation of the Scriptures.

Naturally, then, Paul’s return to the Scriptures as the foundation for his apology not only provides a model for us; it also raises the question of how the Scriptures are to be read. As we have seen, the “letter/Spirit” contrast in 3:6 is not a proof text for an allegorical method of reading the Scriptures, but a shorthand description of the two epochs within redemptive history. Paul did not resort to some kind of special “Christian” reading of the Old Testament that was available only to those who had the Spirit. Nor is Paul’s use of Scripture in this passage (and throughout his writings) an example of special pleading based on Christian presuppositions for the sake of his Christian polemic. Paul did not derive “the right doctrine from the wrong text,” legitimizing noncontextual readings by attributing them to the Spirit.²⁷ Rather, our study of 3:7–18 has demonstrated that Paul offered a sober, contextual interpretation of the original intention of the Scriptures, viewed from the perspective of Christ’s coming as the turning point within the history of redemption.

In thinking of our own cultural context, Paul’s argument from Scripture reminds us that the original intention of the Scriptures is the locus of divine revelation. God’s intention cannot be discovered apart from the intention of the biblical authors. This is a sober truth in view of the contemporary challenges of postmodernism (see the Contemporary Significance section of 1:1–2). Paul’s presupposition concerning the divine authority and accessibility of the Scriptures and his method of interpretation here and elsewhere offer no support for the postmodern version of the allegorical method, with its own “letter/spirit” contrast. For under the influence of postmodernism, the supposedly true, spiritual meaning of the text is once again being determined not by the author’s statements read within their own context, but by one’s own spiritual, ethnic, gender, or sociopolitical experience.

Postmodernism justifies this relocation of meaning from the author to the reader by stressing that the attempt to recover the author’s expressed intention is, in the end, an act of self-deception. According to postmodernists, the attempt to submit oneself to the text does not recognize the inherent ambiguity of human perception, the all-pervasiveness and controlling nature of our cultural conditioning, the multivalence of words and symbols, the existence of concealed, ideological motives behind all supposedly neutral statements of universal truth, and the indebtedness that reason has to a particular tradition for the definition of what is “reasonable.” Hence, in postmodernism, what is needed to understand the Bible is not a thorough knowledge of the ancient world and its languages, but a self-conscious reflection on one’s own social status, gender relationships, community traditions, and political aspirations. For in the end, the purpose of reading the Bible is to better understand ourselves from our own perspective. From the perspective of postmodernism, there is nothing more subjective and ideologically driven than the violent act of reading.

There is much positive that evangelicals can learn from postmodernism, insofar as it rightly points out the influence of culture, ideology, and social location on interpretation. It poses a needed challenge to what is often (though not always) an unreflective hubris within scholarship. Postmodernism’s willingness to rethink even the most cherished interpretive conclusions is a welcomed stimulus to look at overly familiar texts with new eyes. And there is no doubt that a black or feminist or socialist or freewill reading of the text may uncover aspects of the author’s original intention that my white, male, Calvinist reading has missed (though it may also obscure it all the more!). Two heads or cultures or perspectives are often better than one. The warning raised by postmodernism that interpretations of a text are often thinly veiled expressions of our own ideologies is a sobering wake-up call to be self-critical in reading the Bible.

But as my qualifications indicate, postmodernism’s hermeneutical relativism and often radical rejection of a subject-object distinction cannot be assimilated into the biblical conception of revelation within history. Whereas postmodernism despairs over the possibility of ascertaining an author’s original intention, the very fact that God has chosen to reveal himself in a space-and time-bound collection of writings means that cross-cultural, cross-linguistic, and cross-temporal communication is possible.

Postmodernism is, in essence, atheism applied to literature. Many evangelicals have gravitated toward it, believing that its celebration of diversity, its skepticism concerning the reigning scientific paradigms, and its openness to all forms of community-based hermeneutics enable us once again to sit at the academic table without being ashamed of our belief in the Bible. Yet once we share our conviction that our particular, historically revealed truth claims, derived through reading an ancient book, are universally valid, we find ourselves marginalized as silent partners who must be tolerated but cannot be allowed to speak. The destructive force of postmodernism’s pluralism is just as strong as secular modernism’s antisupernaturalism.

Moreover, like postmodernism, Paul too is painfully aware that people believe what they want to believe and that what they want to believe, often a product of their history or social identity, determines what they can believe. In 3:14–15, he therefore reminded the Corinthians of his “hermeneutic of the heart.” Israel’s problem was not intellectual but a matter of spiritual disposition. Paul recognizes that only those whom Christ has redeemed will accept his argument from Scripture in 3:7–13. Although anyone who does the hard work of reading the Bible carefully can adequately understand its message, only those in whom the Spirit is at work will receive its truths into their lives (cf. 1 Cor. 2:14). Though being willing to go where the text leads is in itself no guarantee that one’s interpretation will be sound (one must still be a careful, informed reader), without such a willingness the chances that the interpretation will be seriously skewed are increased dramatically. Empathy for the author is an essential ingredient in understanding, though it brings with it its own perils.

This realization is especially important for those who, like Israel in 3:14–15, are already committed in principle to the Scriptures as God’s Word. Unlike outsiders, who simply reject the divine authority of the Scriptures, those committed to the truth of the Bible feel compelled to submit to its teachings. Hence, when the Scriptures call our worldview or way of life into question, our first response will not be to reject Scripture outright. Instead, our inclination as Bible-believers will be to “reinterpret” the text in line with our own most cherished convictions.

Thus, Paul’s recognition of the root problem behind Israel’s rejection of the gospel demonstrates that the Spirit must create within us a willingness to accept God’s Word so that, being receptive to its message, we will be more apt to comprehend its meaning. Paul’s argument from the Scriptures as common ground with his opponents assumes that the role of the Holy Spirit in biblical interpretation is not to provide God’s people with hidden information or insights into the Scriptures, but to change their moral disposition (cf. 3:14).

What is needed is not a private illumination to open our eyes to the secret meaning of the text, as if the gospel were a gnostic truth that only the initiated can understand. The issue is not one of content, but of character.²⁸ The “veil” in 3:14–15 is a metonymy for hard-heartedness, not intellectual inability. In Fuller’s words,

Apart from regeneration … men do not welcome the reasonableness of the teaching that fulfillment for their deepest yearnings comes from delighting in God’s goodness by trusting his promises and thereby rendering him honor. People prefer instead to accomplish things that supposedly provide reasons for delighting in how much they can trust themselves.… Only God, working through the Holy Spirit, has the power to replace one’s foolish desire for ego-fulfillment with the reasonable, well-advised desire to find peace and joy in depending on God to stand by his promises.²⁹

Finally, Paul’s method of mounting a careful argument from the Scriptures in order to support his claims to apostolic authority throws in sharp relief the waning emphasis in the contemporary church on original language exegesis and expository preaching. In place of the serious study and proclamation of the Scriptures as the foundation and focal point of ministry, pastors are increasingly turning to “talks” on general themes, sprinkled with biblically phrased words of advice, in order to respond to the “felt needs” of their congregations.³⁰ In response to the cry for cultural relevance (assuming that people know best what they need), most seminaries have bowed to the pressure of their constituency (i.e., tuition-paying students and high-profile churches) by relaxing or eliminating altogether the requirement to gain a working knowledge of the biblical languages.³¹

This crisis in our seminaries has direct consequences for our churches.³² Though many are hailing the above as the curriculum for the next millennium, the rejection of a classical theological education has produced a crisis of confidence in the pastoral office in which pastors are forced to become the second-hand purveyors of the opinions of “experts,” our new priestly class. To the degree that they are unable to enter into the exegetical discussion themselves, pastors inevitably end up offering their congregations a smorgasbord of opinions in response to the panorama of views with which they are confronted. In the end, since “even the experts can’t agree,” knowledge of the Bible is trivialized. In its place, the subjective experience of the individual, the pastor, or the community, often baptized as the movement of the Spirit, becomes determinative.

In other words, while decrying the influence of postmodernism on our ethics, we become the ultimate postmoderns in our handling of the Bible, hoping that our theological traditions will keep us from error. Over against this trend, Paul’s boldness was derived from his experience of the Spirit, understood within the framework of redemptive history that he gained from reading the Scriptures and from applying them to his own context.

Thus, unless we regain a serious study of the Scriptures in our pulpits and pews, we will end up redefining the role of the Protestant pastor altogether by denying in practice the authority of the very Bible we are purporting to preach. If the pastor, not to mention those of us in the congregation, no longer struggles to decide for himself what the text means, the authority for preaching will once again reside in our pope, wherever we find him. The pastor then downsizes his role into that of a book reviewer. What is worse, since the pastor is still going to “preach” from the Bible, the authority for preaching now resides in the rhetorical power of the presentation, not in its content. So instead of wrestling with the text, he invests time in searching out illustrations for a basic, thematic, generalized, and pietistic sounding message. This approach makes popular, entertaining preachers, but it loses the Bible altogether.

This does not mean that we must all be able to out-expert the experts. We all have different gifts and callings. It does mean, however, that we must be able to explain to ourselves and to others why people disagree, what the real issues are, and what are the strengths of our own considered conclusions. We must have reasons for what we believe and preach, without having to resort to the papacy of scholarship or the papacy of personal experience.

A serious study of the text reaffirms the nature of biblical revelation and communicates to the church that the locus of meaning and authority of the Scriptures does not reside in us, but in the text that we labor so hard to understand. In his weakness, Paul argued for his authority from the Scriptures, in contrast to his opponents, who relied on their personal power, mystical experiences, rhetorical prowess, and public reputations. So too, we turn to the Scriptures because we are convinced that the authority of our gospel derives from the inerrancy, sufficiency, and power of the Word of God.³³

In addition to all that Paul actually says in this passage, the scriptural foundation of his argument calls the church to regain its commitment to a serious exegesis of the biblical text as the basis of its authority and ministry in the modern world. As Daniel Fuller put it, the essential role of the Holy Spirit in biblical interpretation urges “the exegete always to acknowledge his complete dependence on the Holy Spirit, and at the same time … to develop his skill in using valid exegetical means to determine the meanings that were intended by the words which the Holy Spirit inspired the biblical writer to use.”³⁴

We must pray that our Spirit-inspired willingness to go where the text leads us will be matched by a corresponding willingness to take up the task of studying the Scriptures under the conviction that in these writings alone God has spoken to his people. Given the subjectivity that reigns both in our culture and in the church, this second willingness will necessitate a dramatic work of the Spirit of no less magnitude than the first.³⁵