Original Meaning

IN 5:6–10, PAUL drew the first conclusion that comes from knowing that his eternal home was secure with Christ, the sovereign judge of all humanity. From such knowledge comes his own courageous ambition to please the Lord through walking by faith (5:7a, 9). In 5:11–6:2, this same awareness leads to an equally courageous commitment to persuade others to join him in living in a way that pleases God (5:11a, 14–15, 21). In view of Paul’s self-defense (5:11b–13) and his self-understanding as “Christ’s ambassador” (5:18–6:2), this persuasion has as its goal the acceptance of the gospel as it is proclaimed and embodied in Paul’s ministry.¹

Thus, the reference to Paul’s persuading others in 5:11–12 unpacks his earlier thesis-like statements in 2:17 and 4:2 that he speaks his message in Christ before the judgment of God (cf. 12:19). Knowing the fear of the Lord, the apostle remains true to the gospel himself and seeks to persuade others of the legitimacy of his apostolic ministry in order that they too may be saved. These two are inseparable. To reject Paul, “Christ’s ambassador” (5:20), is to reject Christ (cf. 2:14–17; 4:1–6, 10–12, 13–15). Hence, although Paul continues to use the plural throughout this section, his primary focus remains his own ministry. He uses the plural to indicate that he is not speaking simply for himself, but in doing so represents the apostolic office (cf. 1:3–11). His goal is to make clear how the truths of the gospel apply to his own life and calling. As a result, in seeking to persuade others of the legitimacy of his own ministry in 5:11–6:2, Paul provides one of the most profound statements of the gospel found anywhere in the New Testament.

Paul’s Motivation for Ministry (5:11–15)

THE “SINCE, THEN” (oun, “therefore”) of 5:11 indicates that Paul’s commitment to persuade others of the truth of the gospel is grounded in his confidence that one day Christ will judge all people (5:10). To know that Christ is the judge of all is to fear the Lord (= Christ) above all. Though it is often suggested that this “fear” (phobos) should be interpreted as “reverential awe” or “respect,” this softening of Paul’s statement misses the seriousness of the threat in view. Nothing less than real fear is involved, since in the context Paul is referring to a strong desire to avoid the negative consequences of Christ’s judgment.

This is the “bottom line” motivation of Paul’s ministry. He does not seek to enhance his own reputation by using fancy rhetoric in his preaching or to use his ministry to line his pockets with other people’s money. Rather, the apostle seeks to persuade others to join him in fearing the Lord so that they too will escape his wrath. Fear is the flipside of faith and the gracious gift of God to his people. Only those who know Christ fear losing such a relationship, and it is this fear (the negative motivation), together with the glory of God itself (the positive motivation; cf. 3:7–18; 4:13–18), that keeps the believer persevering in pleasing God.

As a result, Paul’s reference to persuasion in 5:11 is most likely also a jab at his opponents’ reliance on rhetoric to support their claims. The action of “persuading men” (peitho) was virtually synonymous with the Greco-Roman rhetorical tradition as a whole, since persuasion was “the quintessential expression of the goal of rhetoric.”² Indeed, as Hubbard points out, “so important was persuasion to the Greeks that she was deified as a goddess, and worshipped.”³ Paul does not reject the need to persuade (5:11), but he does reject relying on the persuasive techniques of rhetoric to do so, since his own reputation is not on the line, but the eternal destiny of God’s people (cf. 1 Cor. 2:1–5). It is not the power of human eloquence that persuades, but the presence of God’s Spirit. Conversely, it is not the desire for recognition from others, but the fear of God that motivates Paul’s persuasion.

Paul goes on to make it clear, however, that though the fear of God motivates him, the goal of his persuasion is not to justify himself before God. Given his call, the integrity of his life, and his ministry of suffering and the Spirit, the legitimacy of his ministry is already “plain to God” (5:11; cf. 1:12–2:4; 2:14–17; 3:3–6; 4:1–18). Nor is he justifying himself before the Corinthians. The legitimacy of his ministry should already be “plain to [their] conscience” through the evidence of their own lives (cf. 3:1–3).⁴ This is Paul’s “hope” in 5:11, which points not to a “wishful thinking” (the meaning of “hope” in contemporary American usage), but to his “confidence for the future” (the meaning of “hope” in the New Testament).

In other words, Paul’s persuasion is not an attempt in itself to win back the Corinthians, for he is confident that the majority to whom he is now writing will continue to respond positively to his polemic (cf. 1:13–14; 6:1; 6:11–7:16). Instead, the references in 5:11 to his call to be an apostle and to his ministry of suffering and the Spirit as evidence of his legitimacy, all testified to by the existence of the Corinthians themselves as Christians (cf. 3:2–3), provide the foundation for the argument to come.

Based on the affirmation of 5:11 and grounded by the argument to follow in 5:13–15, verse 12 is therefore the main point of 5:11–15. Paul’s assurance before God and his hope concerning the Corinthians lead once again to the inference that he is not engaging in self-commendation, just as it did in 3:1 on the basis of 2:14–17 and 3:2–3.⁵ Now, however, Paul indicates the purpose of pointing to the concrete proof of his authenticity: He is defending himself in order that the Corinthians might have the “opportunity” they need to refute those within the church who are still calling his ministry into question (cf. 1:13–14).

The word translated “opportunity” (aphorme) in 5:12 is a military term used to designate a strategic base of operations employed as a launching pad for mounting an attack or defense (cf. its use in 11:12; Rom. 7:8; Gal. 5:13; 1 Tim. 5:14). Paul wants to provide such a base of support so that those Corinthians who have repented of their rebellion against Paul and his gospel will be able to “boast” (NIV, “take pride”) in Paul’s suffering and weakness as a counter-offensive against those who still “boast [NIV, take pride] in what is seen [prosopon].” This contrast in 5:12 between the two objects of boasting reflects the situation that still existed within the Corinthian church when this letter was written. It also alludes to the principle of divine judgment from 1 Samuel 16:7: “The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance [LXX, prosopon], but the LORD looks at the heart [cf. 2 Cor. 5:12].”

The issue at stake, therefore, is not a personality contest, but a struggle for the lives of those who appear to be Christian outwardly, but whose hearts are far from the Lord. In the battle for the gospel that continued to be waged in Corinth, the issue remained whether the repentant could defend their faith in Paul’s ministry against the attacks of those who “peddle the word of God” (2:17). Paul’s concern here is to provide them with the ammunition needed to do so.

Paul’s opponents took pride in their professional rhetorical prowess, their letters of recommendation from other churches, the payment they received for their ministry, their ethnic and spiritual pedigree, and their ecstatic spiritual experiences. These are the external things that “are seen” (5:12); that is, they are on the surface (cf. 10:7). As in 3:2 and 4:2, here too Paul maintains that his opponents’ focus on such externals mask the true nature of their motives, whereas his own actions reveal the genuine nature of his “heart.”

Far from being a reference to that which is not seen, kept a secret, or subjective, Paul’s reference to the “heart” in 5:12 again picks up the theme of the inextricable link between the character of one’s actions and the quality of one’s motives (cf. 1:12–14; 2:4; 3:2; 4:2). His willing commitment to do whatever it takes to win people to Christ (cf. 1 Cor. 9:19–23), even if this entails suffering as a result of preaching for free, is the objective evidence of his love (1 Cor. 4:8–13; 9:15–18; 2 Cor. 2:17; 4:7–15; cf. 6:3–10). This is what the Corinthians can boast about to demonstrate that Paul is the rightful representative of Christ (cf. 2 Cor. 5:20). The question, then, becomes who has the real basis for boasting before God and others, Paul or his opponents.

When it came to boasting, Paul’s opponents called his ministry into question not only because of his practice of preaching for free, but also because of his suffering (cf. 1:8–11; 2:12–14; 4:7–13; 6:3–10; 10:7; 11:16–33). To make matters worse, Paul made only a cautious public use of the more flamboyant gifts like speaking in tongues (cf. 1 Cor. 14:18–19) and rejected outright the impressive techniques of contemporary public orators (cf. 1 Cor. 1:17; 2:1–5; 2 Cor. 10:10; 11:6), not to mention refusing even to refer to his own spiritual experiences (cf. 12:1–7). All of this combined to make Paul look weak in the eyes of those who claimed to be spiritually strong (cf. 10:10). From the perspective of his opponents, Paul not only suffered too much, but he also exhibited the Spirit too little to be a genuine apostle. From Paul’s perspective, however, the purpose of spiritual gifts is the edification of others, not the display of one’s own power (cf. 1 Cor. 14:1–12). Love for others, not knowledge for oneself, is the goal (cf. 13:1–3, 8–13).

That is why persuading others rather than parading his own spiritual experiences is the “heart” of Paul’s ministry. It is the “fear of the Lord,” not his own reputation, that drives him (5:11). Thus, when Paul is “out of his mind” (or “beside himself”), this is done privately before God, while being in his “right mind” is maintained for others (5:13).

The word translated “out of our mind” (existemi) in 5:13 is used negatively in Mark 3:21 to describe the reaction of Jesus’ family to his apparently deranged zeal and seemingly outrageous messianic claims. But Paul’s use of this verb in reference to God indicates a different sense here. Paul would hardly say that he is demented or abnormal toward God because of his zeal to persuade others concerning the need to please Christ. Nor should we assume that Paul’s opponents accused him of being out of his mind, so that he must defend himself by saying that if he is acting in a crazy manner, as they allege, then it is only toward God. If anything, Paul’s opponents and those Corinthians still on their side would prize such a posture of religious ecstasy as evidence of the Spirit’s power.

Rather, the contrast in 5:13 picks up Paul’s earlier statements in 1 Corinthians 14:2–8, where he reminded the Corinthians that speaking in tongues takes place not “to men … but to God” (14:2) and is therefore “unfruitful” toward others (14:14), while prophecy “speaks to men for their strengthening” (14:3).⁶ To be “out of our mind” is therefore best seen as a reference to Paul’s own ecstatic experiences in private worship, most likely that of tongues (cf. 14:18, 23) and visions (cf. 12:1–4).⁷ Paul’s point is that his love for others (here the Corinthians) causes him to consider their needs for persuasion more important than even his own spiritual, private communion with God.

Private religious experiences such as speaking in tongues are certainly valid and can even profit the church if done in proper order (cf. 1 Cor. 14:15, 26–33). Yet Paul’s desire to persuade others necessitates his giving top priority when ministering to being “in [his] right mind,” since people, not God, are the focus of his ministry (cf. 4:1–2). “To be in one’s right mind” (sophroneo) refers to the “moderation, good taste, and avoidance of excess” that was desired in serious oratory and exposition of history. This passionate but measured and sober style is what Paul practiced in his preaching.⁸ Read in this way, Paul’s emphasis in 5:13 on his commitment to a public ministry explains why he adduces only objective evidence to commend his ministry, which at the same time gives the Corinthians the “answer” they need to respond to his critics (5:12; note that the gar [“for”] of 5:13 is not translated in the NIV).

The basis and purpose for this radical reversal from self to others is given in 5:14–15 (see the “for” of v. 14a and the purpose clause in 5:15, “that those who live …”). In short, Paul’s life is now determined by the gospel as outlined in these two verses. “Christ’s love … for all,” which replicates itself in Paul’s love for the Corinthians, “compels” Paul to live as he does (the NIV rightly takes the genitive in “love of Christ” as a subjective genitive, referring to Christ’s love, not as an objective genitive, referring to our love for Christ). Paul’s giving of his life to the Corinthians is the embodiment and corollary of the lordship of Christ, who expressed his own sovereignty and love by giving himself to his people. As Paul put it in 4:5: “For we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake” (cf. Col. 1:24–29).

Specifically, Christ’s love compels Paul for two reasons. (1) He is convinced that Christ’s vicarious death (i.e., “one died for all”) is the true definition of what it means to be “right-minded” about life. In view of the coming judgment, Christ, moved by his love, considered the needs of others for reconciliation more important than his own glory and position with the Father. As a result, he died “for all” in order to save them (5:14b). For the same reason, and compelled by Christ’s love, Paul considers the needs of God’s people more important than his own, so that he does whatever it takes to persuade them of his legitimacy as “Christ’s ambassador” (cf. 5:20–6:2). The needs of the Corinthians determine Paul’s actions (cf. 1 Cor. 4:6–21; 9:1–27; 2 Cor. 1:12–2:4; 2:13; 4:10; 6:3–10; 7:2–13; 11:1–12; 11:28; 12:14–21). In radical contrast to his earlier days of persecuting the church, Paul now willingly suffers for those whom he once persecuted, convinced that Christ has died not merely for the Jews, but for all people, both Jews and Gentiles.

(2) Christ’s death “for all” brings about the “death” of “all” for whom he died (cf. the “therefore” of v. 14c). Together with Christ’s death as a model for his own behavior, this accomplished fact concerning the consequences of Christ’s death “compels” Paul in his ministry. The “all died” of 5:14 must therefore be limited to God’s people, otherwise Christ’s death would mean that all people are now a new creation in Christ, living for him rather than themselves (5:15–17). For Christ’s love-motivated death for all is not merely an example of what his people should do, but also the very means by which his followers are impelled and enabled to do it. Nor is the death of all in 5:14c merely a potential to be actualized by all people, but the compelling cause that leads those for whom Christ has died to follow him in their lives. Thus, the striking feature of Paul’s statement is that all those who died in 5:14 are then identified in 5:15 as those who now live, which is surely limited to those who actually participate in God’s salvation in Christ (cf. 5:21–6:1).⁹ Christ died for his people.

Defining the content of the “all,” however, is not Paul’s point. Though important for our understanding of the text, Paul no doubt assumes its meaning is clear. Rather, his turn of phrase in 5:15 calls attention to the fact that those who have died with Christ to their old way of life under the power of sin are raised to a new life in him under the power of the Spirit (cf. 3:7–18; also Rom. 6:1–23; 8:1–13; Col. 2:9–15). As the second Adam, Christ’s death for those now “in Christ” overturns the consequences of Adam’s sin for those who remain “in Adam” (cf. Rom. 5:16–19). Second Corinthians 5:14–15 is thus the counterpoint to Romans 5:12. In our context, this new life refers to being compelled by Christ’s love to live for others rather than seeking spiritual experiences for oneself or pursuing the fame and fortune that comes from self-promotion. To love like Christ, because of Christ’s love, is to consider the spiritual growth of others more important than one’s own status or security. To live for Christ is to live like Christ. What transforms the believer, therefore, is that the Judge (5:10–11) is also the Savior (5:14–15).

This, then, is the gospel in a nutshell: (1) The basis of the gospel is Christ’s love for his people (not his people’s love for Christ or any other human characteristic, act, or distinctive); (2) as a result, Christ died for them (to atone for their sin and to free them from its power); (3) therefore, they too died (to their old way of life under the power of sin); (4) the consequence of Christ’s death for them and their death in Christ is a new life lived out for others.

The Consequences of Paul’s Ministry (5:16–6:2)

PAUL NOW DRAWS out the consequences of the gospel he has just outlined in 5:14–15, elucidates its content, and describes how it is conveyed. The first consequence of the gospel is that Paul no longer regards anyone “according to the flesh” (lit. trans. of 5:16a). Paul’s concept of the “flesh” (sarx) is notoriously difficult to render into English.¹⁰ Given its various meanings in different contexts, the NIV uses forty-eight different English words or phrases to translate this one word in the New Testament! In our passage, the NIV correctly translates the phrase here as “from a worldly point of view,” that is, in accordance with the standards and values that derive from living as if physical life in this world is all that exists.

Moreover, the placement of this phrase in the Greek text indicates that it modifies the verbs, not the nouns. Though awkward in English, the text reads: “We know according to the flesh no one, even if we knew according to the flesh Christ”; not, “we know no one according to the flesh, even if we knew Christ according to the flesh.” The point is the contrast between two perspectives, not two aspects of a person’s life, such as Jesus’ earthly, historical existence versus his eschatological, cosmic identity as the “Christ.” To know someone “according to the flesh” is the opposite of knowing that person “according to the Spirit,” which is the mark of the age of the new covenant (cf. 3:3, 6–18). Conversion entails a converted criteria for evaluating what is valuable and true. In Christ, Paul no longer evaluates others according to the world’s standards or expectations (cf. Gal. 3:28), just as he no longer evaluates Christ in this way.

Paul’s statement in 5:16a most likely refers back to the practice of his opponents, who continue to criticize Paul’s ministry because of its lack of worldly status due to his suffering and apparent lack of spiritual power (cf. 10:1–6, 10). Paul understands this way of thinking, since he himself “once regarded Christ in this way” (i.e., “according to the flesh”). Apart from the resurrection, Jesus’ death on the cross could only mean that he had been cursed by God for his own sin (cf. Deut. 21:23; Gal. 3:13). So prior to Paul’s conversion, in which the glory of the resurrected Christ made it clear to Paul that Jesus had died not for his own sins but for the sins of his people (cf. 4:6; 5:14, 21), Paul disdained the cross as a radical contradiction to Jesus’ messianic claims and as a rejection of Israel’s nationalistic hopes.

In the same way, Paul’s opponents disdain his suffering as “Christ’s ambassador” because they evaluate it to be a mark of the old age that is relegated to the past for all those who, like themselves, are truly “in the Spirit.” Evidently, this rejection of Paul’s ministry was tied to their corresponding appraisal of Christ, an appraisal that could lead Paul to say that they preached another Jesus (11:4). Most likely, in light of the cross, they had spiritualized their nationalistic hopes for the military and political triumph to be brought about by the Messiah into a spiritual victory over this world. Though Israel’s nationalistic hopes had not yet been realized, they preached that Jesus had suffered as the Messiah so that his people would no longer need to suffer themselves.

Paul too preached that Jesus’ suffering as the Messiah changed his people’s lives: “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation” (5:17a). But for Paul this change does not lead to a super-spirituality in terms of spiritual experience, but to the consequences summarized in 5:17b. Rather than still belonging to this world and its ways, all those in Christ are a “new creation,” which means that they have already participated in the passing away of the old age and the arrival of the new (lit., “new things”). The “new things” that have happened in Christ, however, are not private, spiritual experiences, but a new way of life that derives from the reorientation described in 5:15. Becoming a “new creation” does not refer to becoming a new kind of “super-spiritual” human being, but to becoming like Christ. The contours of the new creation are moral, not ecstatic.

Against the backdrop of 2:14–4:18, the “new creation” of a people who live for Christ by living for others is the beginning of the restoration of God’s people under the new covenant. This means that reconciliation with God through Christ (5:18–21) is the beginning of the eschatological redemption of the world, the inbreaking into this evil age of the “new creation” to come (cf. Isa. 43:18–19; 65:16b–23; 66:22–23). Indeed, in Isaiah 43:1–21 and 65:17–25 Israel’s restoration from exile is described with new creation language as part of the theme of Israel’s “second exodus” that is developed throughout Isaiah 40–66. Beale has therefore argued persuasively that “it is plausible to suggest that ‘reconciliation’ in Christ is Paul’s way of explaining that Isaiah’s promises of ‘restoration’ from the alienation of exile have begun to be fulfilled by the atonement and forgiveness of sins in Christ.”¹¹

This point is made abundantly clear by Paul’s allusion in v. 17b to Isa. 43:18f. (LXX): “Do not remember the former things, and do not discuss the old things. Behold I make new things” (cf. also Isa. 66:17), which is an exhortation for Israel to forget their past sin and judgment but to look to God’s work of restoration/new creation.¹²

Paul too had experienced the reality of this new creation first-hand, having been forgiven by Christ on the road to Damascus. Hence, his equating being “in Christ” with participating in the “new creation” reflects his own experience of the fact that Christ’s death (5:14) inaugurates the eschatological new creation in the midst of the old (cf. 1:20).¹³ For Paul, the new covenant, made possible by Christ’s death, is the inauguration of the new creation.

Against its Old Testament backdrop, Paul’s affirmation that the new creation is being realized “in Christ” does not refer simply to a potential for the future. It also includes the life-transforming reality that has invaded this age, determining the lives of those who are now a part of it (5:14c–15; cf. Gal. 1:4). The new creation, like the kingdom of God, is already here, but not yet here in all its glory. Within the dawning of the new creation, the revelation of God’s glory among a restored people results in a life of growing obedience by the power of the Spirit, in contrast to Israel’s continuing hard-heartedness and the wickedness of the nations (cf. 2 Cor. 3:14–18; 4:3–4). As an outpost of the “new creation” in Christ under the new covenant, the Corinthians testify by their obedience and separation from evil that the Spirit is truly at work among them (cf. 1 Cor. 5:1–6:20; 2 Cor. 6:14–7:1).

By implication, one can legitimately argue that the personal transformation brought about by the Spirit in 3:18 is the evidence that one is part of the new creation spoken of in 5:17. Though the consummation of the new creation is still to come, the Spirit-wrought transformation pictured in 3:18 is the foundation of Paul’s assertion here that the death and resurrection of Christ have already inaugurated the eschatological “new creation.” Hence, whatever the “new things” are in 5:17, they must certainly include a new life of growing obedience to God brought about by the Spirit. As the “second Adam” reflecting the image of God, Christ brings his followers back to the glory associated with Adam before his fall into disobedience. Thus, for Paul, the real evidence of the glory of the new creation is not spiritual ecstasy (5:13), but moral transformation (5:17; cf. Eph. 2:10).

The magnitude of what Paul has just said leads him to declare in 5:18a that the origin of all this can be none other than God himself. Only God’s creative power can explain the re-creation of people who once lived according to the human sinful nature into people who live for Christ (5:15–17; cf. 4:4–6). The means of this re-creation is the redemption of God’s people that comes about through their reconciliation to God through Christ (5:18b). This too comes from God. God is both the subject and indirect object of 5:18–19a: God reconciles the world to himself. Reconciliation is God’s initiative and God’s work, while the direction of reconciliation is also Godward. God is not reconciled with us, as if we were the point of reference and God were the transgressor (!); we are reconciled with God.

The means of this reconciliation is Christ, the One whose death makes it possible (cf. “through Christ” in 5:18 = “in Christ” in 5:19). But God uses the ministry of others to implement reconciliation in the world. For this reason, the direct object of God’s reconciliation is first Paul (“us” in 5:18), then the “world” (5:19), the latter most likely being a reference to the fact that God’s reconciliation includes Gentiles as well as Jews (cf. Rom. 11:12, 15; Eph. 2:16).

Once again, God is the source of reconciliation, while Paul is his instrument in bringing it to fruition. God’s work of reconciling the world to himself precedes Paul’s own reconciliation with God, just as Paul’s being granted the ministry and message of reconciliation precedes his consequent call to others to be reconciled with God (5:18–20). It is crucial to see that the command of verse 20 is based on the prior, finished realities of verses 18–19 and 21. This view finds support in the fact that Paul’s understanding of salvation as reconciliation most likely derives from his own conversion-call experience on the road to Damascus. In revealing to Paul his glory in Christ (cf. 4:4–6), God reconciled the rebellious Paul to himself and gave him a ministry of reconciliation among the Gentiles (cf. 2:14; 5:16, 18–19 with Gal. 1:12–16).¹⁴

It quickly becomes clear, therefore, that the center of Paul’s formulation of the gospel in 5:18–19 is the concept of reconciliation. The use of this metaphor to express the significance of God’s saving activity is unique to Paul.¹⁵ Some have argued that his use of the term reconciliation (noun: katallage; verb: katallasso) in 5:18–21 derives directly from its secular use during that period as a diplomatic and political term referring to the harmony established between enemies by peace treaties.¹⁶ In this view, Paul adopts this Greco-Roman backdrop as the ideal counterpart to his self-understanding as “Christ’s ambassador” (verb: presbeuo; noun: presbys). As such, Paul is sent to announce that God has established a “peace treaty” with his enemies by declaring a general amnesty concerning sin (i.e., Paul’s “ministry/message of reconciliation,” 5:18b, 19b). Paul effects this divine peace and reconciliation as one through whom God makes his appeal (5:20).

Hence, to clarify his calling, Paul uses a secular, diplomatic word (“reconciliation”) and function (“ambassador”) to explain the significance of his ministry, which is an extension of his own reconciliation as a former enemy of God (5:18). What makes this reconciliation possible is Christ’s death as a substitution for sin, inasmuch as the righteous Christ is made to be a sinner and dies for God’s people in accordance with Isaiah 52:13–53:12 (cf. 2 Cor. 5:21). Advocates of this view argue, moreover, that there is no explicit reference to the sacrificial system in Isaiah 52:13–53:12, nor is Christ pictured in 2 Corinthians 5:21 as an atonement for sin. Hence, “reconciliation” in 5:18–21 must have a thoroughgoing political backdrop, which Paul himself brings together with the noncultic but Old Testament understanding of Jesus’ death as substitutionary.

Though such a reading is not impossible, others have more persuasively argued that the background to Paul’s self-understanding in this passage is not derived primarily from the diplomatic language of his day. Rather, it comes from the prophetic perspective of Isaiah itself, from the Old Testament and Jewish understanding of atoning sacrifice, and from the contrast between Paul’s ministry and the ministry of Moses.¹⁷

Concerning this last point, Thrall sees in Paul’s description of his being entrusted with the apostolic message (“word”) of reconciliation in 5:19 a contrasting allusion to Psalm 105:26–28, where Moses and Aaron are commissioned to take the “words” of the signs of God’s judgment to Pharaoh.¹⁸In 2 Corinthians 5:19, as in 3:7–11, Paul is contrasting his ministry of righteousness, with its message of reconciliation, with Moses’ ministry of judgment. Paul’s self-understanding as one who acts as an “ambassador” for Christ thus alludes back to the contrast between the ministries of Paul and Moses in 2:16–3:13. This is confirmed by the fact that Josephus and Philo also use the language of “reconciler” and “ambassador” to describe Moses (cf. Josephus, Ant. 3.315; Philo, Life of Moses 2.166; Questions on Exodus 2.49; Who Is the Heir? 205).¹⁹

Even more important, just as Paul’s understanding of Jesus’ death is significantly informed in this passage by Isaiah 52:13–53:12, so too Paul’s portrayal of his own role as an apostle in 5:20 derives essentially from this same context. Paul speaks not merely as a political “diplomat,” but as a prophet. As such, he brings the good news of the peace that God has established in accordance with the dawning of the reign of God announced in Isaiah 52:6–10 (cf. the parallel reference to “peace” in Isa. 53:5, Paul’s use of 52:7 in Rom. 10:15, and his direct quote from the parallel passage, Isa. 49:8, in 2 Cor. 6:2). The king has come to establish God’s kingdom, but he has done so as the suffering servant who gives up his life for his people. In response, Paul implores his people on Christ’s behalf to be reconciled to God, knowing that God is making an appeal through his prophetic ministry.

But the suffering servant of Isaiah 53 is not enough to explain the need for or peace-creating efficacy of Jesus’ death as Israel’s king. In addition to a “political” backdrop, the Old Testament and Jewish understanding of atonement with God by means of a substitutionary sacrifice is the essential background for understanding both “reconciliation” in 5:18–20 and Christ’s being made “to be sin” in 5:21. This backdrop is brought into view through Paul’s reference to Christ’s being “made … sin” in 5:21. Like its parallel designation “concerning sin” in Romans 8:3 (cf. Isa. 53:10), this description reflects the LXX rendering of being made a “sacrifice for sin” or “sin offering” in Leviticus 4:13–14, 20–21, 24; 5:6–7, 10–12; 6:18; 9:7; 14:19; 16:15. Accordingly, this portrayal of Christ’s death as a sacrifice for sin indicates that the death/blood of Christ is the means by which God fulfills the need for atonement prefigured in the sacrifices of the Sinai covenant (cf. Rom. 3:25–26; 4:25; 5:8; 8:3; 1 Cor. 6:11; 11:23–26; 15:3–5; Col. 1:19–20 against the backdrop of Lev. 10:17; 16; 17:11).

The explicit link between the Old Testament sacrificial system and the death of Christ is found in the fact that Jesus, as the suffering servant of Isaiah 52:13–53:12, bears the sins of God’s people as their ransom (cf. Mark 8:36–37; 10:45; 14:24 against the backdrop of Isa. 43:1–4; 53:4–8, 10–12). Paul’s reference to Christ as the One who “had no sin” (lit., “did not know sin”), whom God nevertheless “made … to be sin,” thus recalls the death of the “righteous servant” who did not sin in Isaiah 53:9, 11. So, without a doubt, “it is to be inferred that the efficacy of his death arises from the sinlessness of his life.”²⁰ In his sacrificial death as the sinless Son of God, Jesus pays the penalty for our sin.

Moreover, it is this same Old Testament concept of atonement that makes clear the relationship between Christ’s death (5:21) and our being reconciled to God (5:18–20). Only when Christ’s death as the sinless one is seen as an atoning sacrifice for our sin does it become clear why God is able not to count his people’s sins against them without compromising his own integrity and justice (cf. Rom. 3:21–26). As a result of Christ’s death, not only does Christ take on our sin, we take on his righteousness. When God sees us in Christ, he sees the perfection of Christ having already been granted to us as a gift—even though our being made perfect in Christ is still to come at the consummation of the age, when we will see Christ face to face (cf. 3:18).

The process of our being transformed into the glory of God’s character in this life (5:15) is simply the working out of God’s glory in Christ that has already been given to us through the Spirit (cf. 4:4; Gal. 5:5–6; Titus 3:3–8). In short, Christ’s atoning death (2 Cor. 5:21) effects a new creation (5:17) by making it possible for God to “not count men’s sins against them” (5:19b; cf. the allusion to Ps. 32:1–2), which in turn makes it possible for his Spirit to live in their midst without destroying them (2 Cor. 3:7–18). The consequence is the “peace” with God spoken of in Isaiah 53:5, which is the conceptual equivalent of the “reconciliation” referred to in 5:19.

Paul’s argument in 5:18–20 has made it clear that to be reconciled to God entails aligning oneself with Paul and his message. The Corinthians cannot claim to have received God’s grace while at the same time rejecting Paul’s ministry, since Paul is the one through whom God is making his appeal (5:20). As a result, Paul is concerned in 6:1 that those Corinthians who are still siding with his opponents, with their “other” Jesus, “different spirit,” and “different gospel” (11:4), may have accepted God’s grace “in vain.” He therefore urges them “not to receive God’s grace in vain” by returning to Paul’s gospel. Only perseverance “with ever-increasing glory” constitutes evidence that the Spirit has really transformed one’s heart (3:18). Only those who continue to live for Christ as the One who died and was raised for them (5:15) can be confident before the judgment of Christ (5:10). Those who begin by trusting Christ, but then fall away to another message show that their initial reception of God’s grace, though it may have appeared genuine at the time, was not real.

As one of “God’s fellow workers,” through whose urging God himself is making his appeal to the Corinthians (5:20; 6:1), Paul himself is a divinely appointed means to overcome this danger of falling away. Thus, in 6:2 Paul identifies his own apostolic proclamation of the gospel to the church with the role of Isaiah toward Israel in Isaiah 49:8. Paul, like Isaiah, is announcing God’s final deliverance and warning of the consequences of turning from it. But unlike Isaiah, for whom God’s deliverance was still to come, Paul announces that it has arrived. This use of Scripture in 2 Corinthians 6:2, together with its declaration of fulfillment, is one of the strongest assertions of Paul’s strategic role within the history of redemption. Paul, like Isaiah, speaks for God, and God speaks through Paul. Indeed, the reference to God’s “making his appeal” (parakaleo) through Paul in 5:20 may recall this same verb in Isaiah 40:1 LXX (parakaleite, “comfort”).

Furthermore, in the original context of Isaiah 49:8, the prophet is addressing Israel, who, in exile, is herself the suffering servant of Yahweh, “in whom I will display my splendor” (Isa. 49:3). For “in the time of [God’s] favor” (i.e., on the future day of her salvation), Israel will become “a covenant for the people” (i.e., the means by which God will bring about his eschatological salvation among the Gentiles; see Isa. 49:8; cf. 42:6–7).

It is equally striking, therefore, that here Paul pictures the Corinthians, as the people of the new covenant/new creation, to be a fulfillment of Isaiah’s expectation. As part of the history of redemption framework established in 3:6–18, the people of the new covenant, here portrayed as part of the people of God restored after the exile, are now experiencing, in response to Paul’s gospel, the very “day of salvation” promised in Isaiah 49:8. As such, they too, as an extension of Paul’s ministry, are becoming the means by which this salvation is being brought about in the world (cf. 2 Cor. 10:15–16).

Hence, to reject Paul and his message is be to cast outside the sphere of God’s saving work, since Paul is now working together with God as an instrument of his eschatological salvation, here summarized as “the grace of God” (5:20; 6:1; cf. 2:15–16; 3:14–15). For this reason, because of both the fear of God (5:11) and the love of Christ (5:14), Paul “implores” (5:20) and “urges” (6:1) the Corinthians to respond to his message (cf. 10:1–2).

Finally, the drastic possibility and urgent appeal in 6:1, with its scriptural foundation in Isaiah 49:8, is grounded in 6:2b by Paul’s repetition of the solemn expression “I tell you [lit., behold], now,” which recalls 5:16–17, thereby emphasizing his conclusion that the day of salvation that was promised to Isaiah has indeed arrived.²¹ In other words, to go back on Paul’s message is to be led astray from the truth in the same way that Eve was deceived in the garden (11:3; cf. 4:4). If Paul’s gospel is the inauguration of the new creation, then to doubt its truth can be pictured in terms of the Fall after the first creation. Conversely, as a “new creation” in Christ, the Corinthians must testify by their separation from evil that the consequences of the Fall are being reversed in their lives (cf. 6:14–7:1).

Bridging Contexts

IN ORDER TO come to grips with this text in our day, we must recover the heart of the gospel that so motivated Paul. The fear of God that moved him to persuade others was matched by Christ’s own love as that which compelled Paul to consider other’s needs for the gospel more important than his own comfort (5:11–15). In 5:18b–21, Paul thus details the two means by which God brings about the new creation in Christ. (1) God reconciled Paul to himself through Christ (cf. 4:4–6), for Christ’s death made it possible for God not to “count men’s sins against them” (5:18b, 19b, 21). (2) God gave to Paul as an apostle “the ministry of reconciliation” (5:18b), which took place through his preaching the “message of reconciliation” (5:19b), both of which are based on God’s prior act of reconciliation in Christ (5:19a). The former is the basis of reconciliation, the latter its agency.

As “Christ’s ambassador” (5:20) and “God’s fellow worker” (6:1), Paul’s own life and ministry as an apostle embody and proclaim the “new creation” of the “new covenant,” already inaugurated in Christ (5:18b, 19b). This is what gives him his mandate in 5:20–6:2 (cf. “therefore,” 5:20a). Furthermore, as at the first exodus, the center of the “new creation” as a “second exodus” redemption of the world is the manifestation of the glory of God in the midst of his people. The long-awaited restoration of his people is now beginning to take place in and through the church (6:2). As the continuation of the remnant from throughout Israel’s history, those Jews and Gentiles who have been reconciled with God through Christ (5:18) now encounter God’s glory in Christ (cf. 3:7–18 with 4:4–6 with 5:18–19a).

This is why in 5:21b Paul can summarize the outcome of Christ’s atoning death in terms of the “righteousness of God.” As pointed out in relationship to 3:9, God’s righteousness is his just character as demonstrated in the consistency of his actions toward his creation in accordance with his covenant promises. Specifically, those actions derive from his unswerving commitment to glorify himself by maintaining his moral standards in judgment, revealing his sovereignty in election, and showing his grace through meeting the needs of his people. God’s righteousness thus includes his acts to redeem and transform his people in the midst of this evil age and culminates in the judgment of the wicked and the restoration of the righteous in the age to come (cf. 3:9, 18; 5:10, 17).

Given the sinfulness of the very people God seeks to redeem, his righteousness is revealed most dramatically in his sending his Son to be a sinless sacrifice for the sins of this people (5:21). The cross of Christ thus meets the ultimate need of God’s people, that is, their need for mercy from a righteous God. On the cross, Christ takes on their sin; because of the cross, they take on God’s righteousness.

The “righteousness of God” is thus both a legal quality describing his just character and a dynamic concept describing his way of acting in the world. To take on God’s righteousness in Christ (5:21) is therefore to be declared legally righteous, in accordance with his righteous standards, because of Christ’s sacrificial death on our behalf. But it is also to enjoy the new way of life as a “new creation” that Christ’s death for us makes possible, on the basis of which we will be declared righteous in the judgment yet to come (5:10, 15).

These two aspects of God’s righteousness are organically related. God acts righteously because he is righteous. We act righteously because God has made us righteous. As such, his righteousness is expressed in his reconciling work on the basis of Christ’s death on the cross. But that righteousness is equally seen in his commitment to transform his reconciled people into his own image as seen in the “face of Christ” (i.e., by their sanctification; 3:18; 4:4, 6). Reconciliation with God enables his people to encounter his glory without being destroyed, thereby being transformed into that same glory (3:7–18; 8:9).

The character of the ministry. In reflecting on the implications of this passage in our day of privatization and age of subjectivity, we must remember that its focus is not on the validity of personal experience but on the evaluation of the apostolic ministry. Though much of Paul’s perspective in this passage is common to all believers, he is representing Christian experience through the prism of his own apostolic calling. The main point of 5:11–14 in this regard is that private, spiritual experiences (even tongues and visions) do not count as a basis for ministry or constitute a criterion for its evaluation. Paul’s opponents legitimized their ministries and demands for financial support by appealing to just such experiences. Paul, however, appealed to his devotion to do whatever it took to win people to Christ, even refusing their money in spite of the poverty and humiliation this entailed, since the reality of God’s judgment and Christ’s love, not his own comfort and reputation, ruled his life.

Paul’s perspective still holds today. As Barnett put it,

The evaluation of ministry is to be sought in the public realm, not the private. If in private [Paul] is “beside himself,” this is “for God” and does not bear on his legitimacy as an apostolic minister…. He will make no “horizontal” or public appeal to legitimacy as a minister based on “vertical” ecstatic behavior.²²

As a consequence, Barnett concludes that

important and abiding principles are to be discerned in these verses. On the one hand, freedom is to be allowed to the minister or the believer to be ecstatic or nonecstatic; it is a matter of divine gift. On the other hand, in regard to the recognition of genuineness in ministers, the practice of ecstatic speech or behavior in itself has no bearing. Fundamental to the discernment of the authentic minister, however, is the minister’s commitment to persuading people to “turn to the Lord,” to “be reconciled to God.” If the example of Paul is to be regarded as a yardstick, it should be noted that his life is centered on God and on others, but not on himself.²³

The character of the gospel. If this passage is about the ministry, the focus of the ministry is the gospel of Christ’s death on our behalf. In our day of “decisionism” and age of “easy-believism,” it is essential that we recover our confidence in the power of the cross as the foundation of the Christian ministry and message. The contours of the gospel (cf. 5:14–15, 19, 21) make it clear that the atoning death of Christ is not only a legal act in regard to God’s holiness (cf. Rom. 3:21–26), but also an eschatological act by which God breaks the rule of sin over the lives of his people. Reconciled people live reconciled lives. The death of Christ brings about already here and now God’s promised “new creation.”

The “therefore” of 5:14c reflects Paul’s conviction that the consequences of Christ’s death are not a potential that we actualize by our faith, but a reality that God brings about in the lives of his people. Paul’s point is not that Christ really died for all, therefore all potentially die. Paul assumes that the consequences of Christ’s death are personal, powerful, and effective, not general, possible, and contingent.²⁴ The power of the cross is good news. The death of Christ accomplishes what it was intended to do. “Christ is a Redeemer who really does redeem.”²⁵ As a result of his death on their behalf, all those in Christ are a new creation!

In proclaiming the gospel it is also important to stress, with Paul, that God’s finished act of reconciliation in Christ precedes our response (cf. Rom. 5:6–11; Gal. 3:25). Paul’s statement in 2 Corinthians 5:20 is a command based on the reconciliation that Christ has already accomplished for those who respond, not an “offer” that we actualize by our acceptance of it. God’s people respond to God’s offer of reconciliation already made real by Christ’s death; they do not make it real by their own decision to have faith. The call to be reconciled is the very instrument God uses to bring about reconciliation in the lives of those who respond to it. In this text, as in so many others, God’s initiative and sovereignty and our responsibility come together (cf. Phil. 2:12–13). This is no antiquated, abstract discussion between Calvinists and Arminians; rather, the very gospel itself is at stake. As J. I. Packer again puts it:

What matters is that we should understand the gospel biblically…. And we can now see what has gone wrong. Our theological currency has been debased. Our minds have been conditioned to think of the Cross as a redemption which does less than redeem, and of Christ as a Saviour who does less than save, and of God’s love as a weak affection which cannot keep anyone from hell without help, and of faith as the human help which God needs for this purpose. As a result, we are no longer free either to believe the biblical gospel or to preach it…. Instead, we involve ourselves in a bewildering kind of double-think about salvation, telling ourselves one moment that it all depends on God and next moment that it all depends on us….We want to magnify the saving grace of God and the saving power of Christ. So we declare that God’s redeeming love extends to every man, and that Christ has died to save every man, and we proclaim that the glory of divine mercy is to be measured by these facts. And then, in order to avoid universalism, we have to depreciate all that we were previously extolling, and to explain that, after all, nothing that God and Christ have done can save us unless we add something to it; the decisive factor which actually saves us is our own believing. What we say comes to this—that Christ saves us with our help; and what that means, when one thinks about it, is this—that we save ourselves with Christ’s help. This is a hollow anticlimax.²⁶

The conclusion to be drawn is clear. In transferring Paul’s gospel to our present day we too must emphasize the powerful, effective, life-changing nature of Christ’s death. Not to do so perverts the cross into merely a possibility created by an important event from ancient history. We must be careful not to reduce Christ’s death to a transaction between God and Jesus in heaven that is intended to help people if they will only cooperate. To be reconciled to God in Christ is an act of sovereign restoration and creative power that is as magnificent and miraculous as the creation of the world (cf. 4:4–6 with 5:17).

For Paul, reconciliation is an expression of God’s “new creation” by which he transforms his people’s motivations and hence their way of life (cf. 5:14–16). The goal of this life-transforming reconciliation with God is to usher God’s people into the new creation when it dawns in all its glory on the great and terrible “day of the Lord.” Hence, Paul’s awareness of the coming judgment frames this passage as its theological foundation (cf. 5:11 with 6:2). He knows that only those who are “righteous” will inherit the kingdom of God, and he is gripped by the good news that God himself has opened the way for those in Christ “to become the righteousness of God” in him (5:21).

In other words, we must recover the dynamic nature of the righteousness of God. God’s righteousness is revealed not only by his considering his sinful people already righteous in Christ, but also by delivering them from this evil age and conforming them to his righteousness in anticipation of the judgment and deliverance yet to come. The righteous provision of God in Christ is both his mercy and his power. The ultimate purpose of the cross and resurrection is the pouring out of the Spirit. In this passage the cluster of consequences that result from the reconciliation brought about by Christ mutually interpret one another. Hence, not living for oneself (vv. 14–15a, 18–19) is what it means to be a new creation (v. 17), which is at the heart of what it means to become the righteousness of God (v. 21).

In our day of Christian nominalism, we must make clear the active sense of what it means to be a new creation, living under the power of the righteousness of God. This same point was emphasized by Adolf Schlatter (1852–1938), one of the most important New Testament scholars of the twentieth century, whose work, unfortunately, has been ignored far too long. Schlatter’s important insights have recently been summarized and extended by Robert Yarbrough:

As a New Testament scholar and incisive analyst of intellectual history, Schlatter argued that the Protestant Reformation had not gone far enough. It correctly repudiated the merit theology of medieval Roman Catholicism. But it failed to move far enough in the positive direction of full-orbed love for God, a love that expressed itself in joyful, and where necessary costly, obedience….Schlatter claims that the Reformers’ understanding of [the righteousness of God as revealed in the gospel according to Rom. 1:17] was controlled by the burning question, Since we are hopelessly lost sinners and need righteousness, what kind of righteousness does the gospel give? Their answer: an imputed one, one that will grant to sinners the mercy that nothing else can.This answer is not wrong, Schlatter emphasizes. But it does not go far enough. “The righteousness of God” cannot be reduced to “the mercy of God.” Two things result if this reduction takes place.First, the sinner’s need defines the gospel’s saving ministry. But this is to return to the very man-centered orientation that the Reformers were trying to break away from … this formulation does not begin to do justice to Paul’s celebrated expression “the righteousness of God.” Schlatter points out: “For Paul God’s work arises from God’s work,” not from human necessity or with human welfare exclusively in view. The gospel ushers in the powerful positive presence of God’s kingdom-building activity, by his own hand and through his gospel-activated people, not merely the treasured but limited effect of conferring mercy on needy souls.Second, the stress on man’s need and what the gospel provided to meet that need had a tragic practical outcome…. Head knowledge, mere doctrinal assent, substituted for gospel reception and life transformation…. The living, active, transformative force of God’s inbreaking kingdom, “the righteousness of God,” was short-circuited, its power greatly reduced….The problem is that they have contented themselves with a weak doctrine of faith, a pale facsimile of Paul’s robust “righteousness of God” unleashed in believers’ lives…. And if the word that proclaims righteousness is believed, that which arises is love and action…. Where that action is lacking, there is good reason to suppose the heart still languishes in unbelief. There may be assent, there may be emotional affirmation, there may be selective obedience to gospel imperatives. There may even be impressive displays of religious activity…. But when Jesus called for taking up the cross and following him, he probably had something more radical in mind than motoring to an air-conditioned sanctuary, amen-ing the show, and returning to the real life of Sunday TV and family fun (after sumptuous repast at the crowded new restaurant that everyone is dying to try)…. God’s righteousness is comprehensive, all-embracing, life-transforming.²⁷

The character of reconciliation. If this passage is about the ministry and if the focus of the ministry is the gospel of Christ’s death on our behalf, then the focus of the gospel is reconciliation with God. In our day of self-help and age of technology and technique, it is important to keep in mind that God is both the initiator and object of this reconciliation. Our propensity is to view the gospel as our opportunity to reconcile God to us by showing him how much we love him, rather than seeing it as God’s act in Christ by which he reconciles us to himself by demonstrating his own love for us. The gospel is not our chance to get right with God, but God’s declaration that he has already made us right with him. The gospel does not call us to do something for God that he might save us; it announces what God has done to save us that we might trust him. As Seyoon Kim has summarized Paul’s statements on reconciliation,

Paul uses the terminology never to imply that God is reconciled (or God reconciles himself) to human beings, but always to suggest that God reconciles human beings to himself or human beings are reconciled to God…. This distinctive usage of the terminology seems to suggest that Paul deliberately makes a fundamental correction of the Hellenistic Jewish conception of reconciliation between God and human beings: it is not God who needs to be reconciled to human beings, but it is human beings who need to be reconciled to God; and it is not repentance, prayers or other good works on the part of human beings that bring about reconciliation between God and human beings, but it is by his grace that God reconciles human beings to himself.²⁸

Moreover, we saw in 2:5–11 that reconciliation with God entails reconciliation with those who have wronged us. In chapters 8–9 it will become clear that reconciliation with God expresses itself in a concrete commitment to meet the material needs of others. In the context of 5:11–6:2, dying with Christ leads inextricably to living for others as an expression of living for Christ. The principle in 5:14–15 is therefore applicable to a wide range of goals and activities, not just ecstatic experiences (cf. 11:7–12; 12:14–18; Phil. 2:1–3).

In the same way, Paul’s understanding of his own apostolic ministry as an essential means by which the world is reconciled to God directly applies to all who are called to the ministries of preaching, teaching, and evangelism. It also applies in principle to all believers whenever they are in a situation in which they are able to testify to what God has done in Christ. God’s people are the necessary instruments through which the world is reconciled to God. Once again, there can be no escaping Paul’s operating principle that a new life with God in heaven must express itself in a new way of life in the world.

For this same reason, the gravity of Paul’s plea for reconciliation can only be recovered if we maintain the underlying assumption of this passage, namely, that “the day of salvation” (6:2) is also the day of God’s wrath. It is impossible to grasp the hope of God’s people apart from their conviction that God will one day act to save them from the pain and suffering and injustice brought about by sin. From the biblical perspective that informs Paul’s thought, the vindication of the righteous comes about in part through the judgment of the wicked (Joel 2:28–3:21; Zech. 9:1–17; Mal. 3:1–5; 4:1–6; Matt. 3:1–12; 2 Thess. 1:3–10). To be saved is not merely a state of mind or feeling. Salvation is the great act of God’s deliverance on behalf of his people in which he “fights on their behalf” to rescue them from the sinful oppression of this world (cf. Ex. 14:13–14 with Gal. 1:4). It is this act of divine deliverance at the Exodus that initiates and informs the history of redemption (cf. Isa. 64:1–4). And note the “fear” and “faith” that this event was intended to bring about in the lives of God’s people:

But the Israelites went through the sea on dry ground, with a wall of water on their right and on their left. That day the LORD saved Israel from the hands of the Egyptians, and Israel saw the Egyptians lying dead on the shore. And when the Israelites saw the great power the LORD displayed against the Egyptians, the people feared the LORD and put their trust in him and in Moses his servant (Ex. 14:29–31).

The history of redemption marked out by the exodus from Egypt culminates in the first and second comings of Christ, pictured in our passage as the great “second exodus” act of God that inaugurates and consummates the “new creation.” The wonder of the gospel is that the goal of the first Exodus, which remained unfulfilled in Israel as a whole (their initial fear and faith in Ex. 14:31 soon gives way to the unbelief that eventually produces the idolatry of the golden calf in 32:1–8), is now being fulfilled by the people of the new covenant (see 2 Cor. 3:6–18). At the same time, we cannot escape the fact that all those outside this covenant relationship remain under the wrath of God (Rom. 1:18–32).

Contemporary Significance

PREACHING THE FEAR of God. Neither the righteousness of God nor the sinful conditions of the world have changed since Paul’s day. Throughout this passage, Paul’s theology (God as both Judge and Savior), anthropology (humanity from the worldly point of view and as a new creation), and self-understanding (Paul as Christ’s prophetic ambassador) all highlight the centrality and necessity of the proclamation of the gospel. To be redeemed by God, sinful people need to hear the apostolic call to be reconciled with God (5:20; 6:1–2). The parallel between 5:18 and 5:19 reminds us that the focal point of the ministry of reconciliation is the message of reconciliation.

Recovering this emphasis is crucial in a time when many are moving away from a focus on the Word toward more liturgical, dramatic, and experiential expressions of the faith. The recognition that reconciliation takes place in response to the retelling of what God has accomplished in Christ should caution us not to lose our emphasis on the “sacrament of the Word.” What drives most people away from the preaching of the Scriptures is not preaching itself, but the weak quality of the preaching, which in turn leads to an anemic expression of praise.

One antidote to the weakness of contemporary preaching is the realization that our message is all that stands between heaven and hell. Indeed, the contemporary significance of this passage must include an appropriation of the fact that Paul’s fear of the Lord drove his ministry and message, even as Christ’s love compelled it. In our culture we quickly gravitate to Christ’s love. Yet the magnitude of Christ’s love in this passage only comes to the fore against the reality of God’s judgment. To frame our gospel within the fear of God is therefore both responsible to the text and relevant to our message.

Admittedly, this realization is not easy to recover in our culture. For although both God’s character and ours remain the same today as in Paul’s day, what has changed is the milieu of “felt need” into which the gospel is most often spoken in the Western world. The notion of God’s wrath and the need for atonement in the face of divine judgment are foreign to our worldview, in which God, if he is thought of at all, is usually viewed as a benign teddy bear. The warning of a previous generation to “Turn or Burn!” strikes us as harsh and cruel. Even for those who accept as true the threat of God’s judgment that this call signifies, the imagery of the metaphor is simply too blunt and vivid for our taste. Such a threat of God’s judgment is seldom uttered today without being mocked. That God will judge the world may be true, but it is one of the best-kept secrets of the Bible.

We must remember, however, that Paul’s reminder of God’s coming judgment was not an attempt to scare people into heaven (though the fear of God granted by the Spirit may in fact bring about a person’s repentance). Rather, it was given for those inside the church as a means of spurring them on in their life of faith (cf. 1 Tim. 5:20). Unbelievers do not fear God (Ps. 14:1; Rom. 3:18). Only believers, who have already experienced God’s presence, fear losing it (Ps. 51:10–12). The fear of God, preached as an essential part of the gospel, is the gracious gift of God to keep his people persevering (Prov. 3:7; 8:13; Matt. 10:28; Acts 5:11; 2 Cor. 7:1; Phil. 2:12; Heb. 4:1; 11:7; 1 Peter 1:17). Those who fear God’s judgment repent of their sin so that, trusting in God once again, they need not fear (Rom. 8:15; 1 John 4:18). Only the fear of God leads to not having to fear God (Luke 12:32; Heb. 12:28). The church is “encouraged by the Holy Spirit” even as it goes on “living in the fear of the Lord” (Acts 9:31). “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom” (Prov. 1:7; 9:10).

But where is this same sense of urgency and gravity being expressed in our churches today? Our God is so small—and our sense of self is so large. We fear God so little that we seldom sense the seriousness of our sin. And we sense the seriousness of our sin so little that we seldom fear God. Within this vicious circle, our most pressing “felt need” is not for reconciliation with God because of our sin, but for reconciliation with ourselves because of our low “self-esteem.” As a result, when we hear Paul’s word of judgment and call for reconciliation, our first response is to evaluate our feelings about God. Our cultural discomfort with the very thought of God’s judgment has led us to emphasize the love and forgiveness of God to a fault. God is said to “like us” no matter what we say, feel, or do, to the virtual exclusion of his wrath.

The negative consequences of removing God’s wrath from our portrait of God are far-reaching. As Jerry L. Walls asks, “Can we be good without hell?”²⁹ In other words, an ambivalence pervades the attempt to maintain traditional categories of good and evil without the context of judgment and redemption in which they find their home.

It is the quandary faced by those who affirm traditional moral convictions but who deny the theological framework that historically provided those convictions with meaning and motivation. Without the framework, it is not clear whether or why those convictions of right and wrong are true or why they should be followed.³⁰

In view of this quandary, Walls’ point is an extension of Paul’s presupposition in our passage:

I do not believe there is any adequate account of moral authority or of moral motivation on secular principles. More specifically, I believe we need God, heaven, and yes, even hell, to make sense of morality. Indeed, we need to define our very selves in light of these eternal realities. If there is no God, no heaven, no hell, there simply is no persuasive reason to be moral.… These are the resources that enable us to give a satisfying account … of why we should not only behave morally but also be moral. For these are the best, if not the only, resources to make sense of how it is always in our best interest to be moral.³¹

We must be careful here. The issue is not morality in the narrow sense of ethical behavior within society, but the grand morality of first relating rightly to God and then of extending our reconciled relationship with God to others. God’s judgment is not a utilitarian instrument to be used pragmatically to “get people” to act right. Righteousness is the natural response to knowing a righteous God, since his judgment is the natural and essential expression of his holy character. To speak of hell is not to argue for moralism, but to support the call of the gospel.

Perspectives from the past. There is no doubt that in our day we are nearsighted when it comes to perceiving the significance of God’s righteous judgment and anger. The only way out of our own theological myopia may be to jump back in time. The perspectives of the past enable us to focus afresh in the present by providing us with an outside lens on ourselves. Though we are often too close to see ourselves clearly, renewed clarity can be gained through looking at our own situation from a distance.

Over a hundred years ago, the great Baptist preacher C. H. Spurgeon (1834–1892) felt the same tension we do when considering the judgment of God. For example, in considering the warning of Psalm 7:12, “If you turn not, God will whet his sword,” Spurgeon admitted that

if I consulted my own feelings I should not mention it; but we must not consider our feelings in the work of the ministry, any more than we should if we were physicians of men’s bodies. We must sometimes use the knife, when we feel that mortification would ensue without it. We must frequently make sharp gashes into men’s consciences, in the hope that the Holy Spirit will bring them to life. We assert, then, that there is a necessity that God should whet his sword and punish men, if they will not turn.

So, like Earnest Baxter before him, Spurgeon responded to this text by preaching a sermon calling for repentance with the actual title, “Turn or Burn.” His opening words reflect how little things have changed since his day:

“If the sinner turn not, God will whet his sword.” So, then, God has a sword, and he will punish man on account of his iniquity. This evil generation hath labored to take away from God the sword of his justice; they have endeavored to prove to themselves that God will “clear the guilty,” and will by no means “punish iniquity, transgression, and sin.” Two hundred years ago the predominant strain of the pulpit was one of terror; it was like Mount Sinai, it thundered forth the dreadful wrath of God, and from the pips of a Baxter or a Bunyan, you heard most terrible sermons, full to the brim with warnings of judgment to come. Perhaps some of the Puritan fathers may have gone too far, and have given too great a prominence to the terrors of the Lord in their ministry; but the age in which we live has sought to forget those terrors altogether … and if we faithfully and honestly tell our hearers that sin must bring after it certain destruction, it is said that we are attempting to frighten them into goodness … the cry of the age is, that God is merciful, that God is love. Ay, who said he was not? But remember, it is equally true, God is just, severely and inflexibly just! He were not God, if he were not just; he could not be merciful, if he were not just, for punishment of the wicked is demanded by the highest mercy to the rest of mankind.³²

In going back another century, listen again to the fear of God’s absolute sovereignty and wrath, so foreign today, in Jonathan Edwards’ pleading with unrepentant sinners in his sermon from July 8th, 1741: “Sinners in the Hands of An Angry God,” the most famous sermon ever preached in America:

The God that holds you over the pit of hell, much as one holds a spider, or some loathsome insect, over the fire, abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked: his wrath towards you burns like fire; he looks upon you as worthy of nothing else, but to be cast into the fire; he is of purer eyes than to bear to have you in his sight; you are ten thousand times more abominable in his eyes, than the most hateful venomous serpent is in ours. You have offended him infinitely more than ever a stubborn rebel did his prince: and yet, it is nothing but his hand that holds you from falling into the fire every moment. It is to be ascribed to nothing else, that you did not go to hell the last night; that you was suffered to awake again in this world, after you closed your eyes to sleep. And there is no other reason to be given, why you have not dropped into hell since you arose in the morning, but that God’s hand has held you up. There is no other reason to be given why you have not gone to hell, since you have sat here in the house of God, provoking his pure eyes by your sinful wicked manner of attending his solemn worship. Yea, there is nothing else that is to be given as a reason why you do not this very moment drop down into hell.O sinner! consider the fearful danger you are in: it is a great furnace of wrath, that you are held over in the hand of that God, whose wrath is provoked and incensed as much against you, as against many of the damned in hell. You hang by a slender thread, with the flames of divine wrath flashing about it, and ready every moment to singe it, and burn it asunder; and you have no interest in a Mediator, and nothing to lay hold of to save yourself, nothing to keep off the flames of wrath, nothing of your own, nothing that you ever have done, nothing that you can do, to induce God to spare you one moment.³³

The hope of the gospel. Against this backdrop, the hope of the gospel burns brightly. God is the one who not only judges the world in his wrath, but also poured out his judgment on his own Son in order to reconcile the world to himself. In spite of our sin, we can still be saved! We can be forgiven! We can be set free from its power! We can be reckoned righteous in God’s sight and made righteous as a new creation! This is the new perspective from which Paul views all humanity—not who they are in their sin, but who they can be in their Savior (5:16a). Even Christ must no longer be viewed as hanging on the cross, but as raised in his glory (5:16b). Just as Christ’s death led to his resurrected life, so too Christ’s death for us leads to our new way of life (5:15; cf. Rom. 6:1–23).

What makes this news so good, of course, is that all of this is accomplished not by our efforts, but by God’s sovereign act of creating anew. God reconciles us to himself not because of our distinctives or accomplishments, but because of the unique distinctives of the one who was made sin even though he knew no sin (5:21). We do not reach up to God, but God reaches out to us. We are not called to make great declarations to God; rather, God has declared a word of reconciliation to us, a word of his own redeeming love, a love that stretches from the crossing of the sea to the cross of the Son of God. In Paul’s words, “all this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation” (5:18). The God-centered focus of Paul’s gospel is the gospel. We do not save ourselves; indeed, we cannot. God saves us as the only One who can.

“It is the very heart of the gospel that it both gives everything and requires everything. The task of the preacher is to hold these together so that men and women are both released from the burden of guilt and also set free to follow Jesus.”³⁴ Those who have been reconciled with God in Christ are called to be agents of this same reconciliation to others. To be God’s “fellow worker” (6:1) is therefore not to be God’s equal partner in the plan of salvation, but to be his dependent instrument through which the power of his grace and the promise of his forgiveness are illustrated and made known to others. We do not work with God; God makes his appeal through us. We do not contribute to God’s cause; we share with others what God has done for us, either through the pastoral ministry of being “Christ’s ambassadors,” like Paul, or through living out the gospel as part of God’s people, like the Corinthians (cf. 2:5–11; 8:1–15; 9:6–15).

The fear of God’s judgment and the compelling nature of Christ’s love express themselves in the proclamation and embodiment of the gospel, which are an expression of no longer living for oneself, but “for him who died for them and was raised again.” Those who have died to themselves in Christ have now been raised with Christ, not merely to a life of personal spiritual experiences (as important as they are), but, more important, to a new life of reconciliation with God and others. As Donald Bloesch has observed:

It is necessary to distinguish a theocentric or biblically-oriented pietism from an anthropocentric or culturally-oriented revivalism. The former places the accent on God’s coming to man, whereas the latter speaks more of man’s decision for Christ. The former holds that salvation is realized in a life of obedience, not simply in a crisis experience. For the classical pietist, the primary fruits of salvation are the adoration of God and love for one’s fellowman. For the popular revivalist, the most cherished fruits of salvation are ecstasy and enthusiasm.³⁵

Second Corinthians 5:11–6:2 thus calls us back to our fundamental commitments as followers of Christ: (1) to an awareness of the judgment of God (5:11), (2) to the proclamation of the corresponding good news of the gospel of Christ (5:14–15, 21), and (3) to the passion for others that comes about as a result (5:14, 21). Regaining these fundamentals will not be easy in our crowded day and pluralistic age.

The hustle and bustle of daily life prevents many people who see themselves as religious, and who acknowledge the significance of religion in their lives, from consciously thinking of themselves as a representative of Jesus Christ. One-quarter of adults (27 percent) say they “always” are mindful of being Christ’s representatives; one-sixth (17 percent) say they are “often” aware of that mantle; and one-fourth are “sometimes” conscious of that privilege. The remaining 30 percent of the nation claim they rarely or never think of themselves in this light.³⁶

What we need is not to squeeze more fleeting, religious experiences into our fast-paced lives. Rather, we need a more profound understanding of the gravity of life lived in the “fear of the Lord” (cf. 5:11), laced with a deeper joy in knowing “God’s favor” (cf. 6:2). Concretely, this means taking time to focus on Christ as the means and model of our new life in Christ. The way to avoid “receiving God’s grace in vain” is to get to know Christ better, that is, both his role within redemptive history and the teaching and example of his life. For our new creation takes place “in Christ” (5:17), we have been reconciled to God “through Christ” (5:18, 19, 21), and, like Paul, we are “Christ’s ambassadors” (5:20). That Paul himself had such a focus can be seen in the fact that he interprets both of his motives for ministry Christologically: Paul is moved by Christ as Judge in 5:11 and by Christ as Savior in 5:14. As a result, he implores his readers “on behalf of Christ” to be reconciled with God (5:20).

But to know Christ as Judge and Savior and to realize that reconciliation with God comes through the preaching of the gospel also mean, as Barnett reminds us, that “every day in the life of the apostolic minister is judgment day.”³⁷ The reconciliation of the righteous (5:21) is, at the same time, the day of reckoning for those who receive the grace of God “in vain” (6:1). The call of the gospel to reconciliation with God divides humanity. Even within the church, Paul’s call to the Corinthians reminds us that perseverance is the sign of genuine conversion. Confessions of Christ in the past mean nothing if not matched by a continuing pursuit to live for Christ in the present. Those who begin with Christ but then turn away show themselves not to have “died” and been raised a “new creation” in Christ. Their earlier reception of God’s grace is therefore “in vain” (6:1).

Yet as Paul’s pleading with the Corinthians also makes clear, it is never too late to return to God (5:20; 6:2). Paul’s call for reconciliation to a wayward people is God’s means of rescuing his people from judgment. Paul’s confidence is that those who have not accepted God’s grace in vain will respond, repent, and return to the Lord. Moreover, what was true for Paul in his day is true in ours: Now is the day of eschatological salvation (6:2). And as Newbigin has pointed out, nowhere is this message more needed than in the West:

If one is looking at the total situation of Christianity in the contemporary world, addressing European culture is the most urgent question, and for two reasons: first because it is modern, post-Enlightenment Western culture that, in the guise of “modernization,” is replacing more traditional cultures all over the world, and second because … this culture has a unique power to erode and neutralize the Christian faith.³⁸

To the Western church Paul declares: “We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God. God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (5:20–21).

Appendix

Hubbard (“Was Paul Out of His Mind?”) points out that the view advocated in this commentary concerning 5:13 is the consensus today, though not without its difficulties. The biggest problem is that the verb usually used in contrast to being in one’s right mind is mainomai (“to be mad/crazy”), not existemi (cf. its use in 1 Cor. 14:23), and it is not certain that mainomai and existemi are synonyms when used in reference to religious ecstasy (pp. 42–43). So Hubbard himself rejects the view taken here, arguing that 5:13a reflects an accusation against Paul, not Paul’s own positive description of his commitment to keep his ecstatic experiences private before God. To flesh out what this accusation might have been in a way that avoids the difficulty with saying that it was excessive spiritual experience, Hubbard, 59–61, offers a new reading of the background of the text, interpreting the language of 5:13 against the backdrop of Greco-Roman rhetorical literature and practice. Hubbard argues that 5:13 reflects the accusation that Paul employed an excessive style of delivery in his public preaching, based on Aristotle’s use of existemi in this sense in his Rhetoric 1408b (though Aristotle also uses it to refer to wandering from one’s subject matter, cf. Rhetoric 1418a). Hubbard thus paraphrases 5:13 as follows: “If, as some of you complain, my speech was unpolished and excessive, credit that to God’s account; if I am presently reasonable and lucid, credit that to yours” (p. 61). According to Hubbard, Paul’s point is that, “In his prior visit, his personal presence was unimpressive to the Corinthians, but his writing, as the Corinthians acknowledged, is forceful and to the point (10:10)” (p. 61). The key to 5:13 is therefore 1 Cor. 2:1–5 (pp. 61–62). But was the problem with Paul’s public preaching its excessive use of poetic style, i.e., that it was “too metrical and rhythmic in its delivery,” as Aristotle uses the term (cf. Hubbard, 59)? When Paul refused to use professional rhetoric in Corinth, did he use excessive poetics and an overly emotional style of speech instead? As Hubbard’s own quotes indicate, Aristotle’s use of the term does not refer to a lack of rhetorical polish, but to too much of it, so that one gets lost in the excessive rhetoric! On the contrary, Paul’s preaching, though not encased in professional rhetoric, was still forceful, effective, reasonable, lucid, plain, and to the point (1 Cor. 1:17–19; 2:14–16a). Moreover, it is hard to imagine that speaking before God would lead to a lack of clarity and persuasiveness. But most telling against Hubbard’s suggestion is that Paul’s prior mode of speaking in Corinth was not done for God’s sake, but for the sake of the Corinthians (cf. 1 Cor. 2:5)! Moreover, even if God were the object of Paul’s prior style of speaking in Corinth, Paul stands before God’s judgment in his letters just as much as he does in his public proclamation (cf. 1:23; 11:11), so that it is difficult to construe Paul’s point to be that a switch in audience, from God to the Corinthians, brings about a change in style. In reality, neither Paul’s audience nor his style have changed. Paul’s audience, i.e., his bar of judgment, whether in person or in letter, remains God alone (cf. 2:17; 12:19). And Paul’s letters do not follow the patterns of contemporary rhetoric any more than his preaching did (see the commentary to 10:10). The difference between Paul’s public ministry in Corinth and his letters was not his style, but the focus of his message itself, since it is in his letters Paul had to warn the Corinthians of the judgment to come against those who persist in their rebellion.