Original Meaning

THE MOST STRIKING feature of this new section is its apparently abrupt change in subject matter. Throughout 1:1–7:16 Paul has been encouraging the repentant and arguing with the rebellious concerning the legitimacy of his ministry and message. In 8:1–9:15, Paul suddenly turns to challenge the churches in and around Corinth to resume their participation in the collection for the poverty-stricken Christians in Jerusalem (see Rom. 15:25–28; 1 Cor. 16:1–4; also the Introduction). To complicate matters further, chapter 9 appears to repeat much of what is already stated in chapter 8.

Because of this sudden switch in focus, many readers assume that Paul’s train of thought breaks at the end of chapter 7, only to resume in chapters 10–13. Chapters 8–9 are considered to be a parenthesis within his larger and more pressing apologetic concerns. Indeed, some scholars argue that the break between chapters 7 and 8 is so great that chapters 8 and 9 cannot be considered part of Paul’s original letter. From this perspective, Paul (or, less likely, someone else) composed chapters 8 and 9 as either one or two independent, administrative letters intended to make arrangements for completing the collection in Corinth and its environs. A subsequent editor later inserted them into the composite document we now call “2 Corinthians” (see Introduction).

In contrast to such partition or parenthesis theories, Paul’s “pragmatic” discussion in 8:1–9:15 is actually a logical and necessary application of his previous arguments. The “generosity encouraged” (cf. the NIV heading to 8:1) in these two chapters is not something that Paul adds to the repentance he has just outlined, as if the Corinthians have one more hurdle to jump in order to prove themselves “innocent” (7:11). Nor is it an aside from it, an optional “add-on” for those who are really serious about their faith. Instead, their generosity in giving to the collection is to be an expression of the gospel itself in the lives of those who have already shown the kind of “godly sorrow [that] brings [the] repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret” (7:10).

Specifically, chapters 8–9 outline the contours of the “obedience” that the majority of the Corinthians should continue to demonstrate in response to Paul’s “tearful letter” (cf. 1:24–2:6; 7:9–16). In other words, to fail to give to the collection is to expose the false nature of their professed faith! As the culmination of his ministry among them, the completion of the collection will be the final indication of Paul’s renewed standing in the church. Like 2:5–11, 6:14–7:1, and 7:2–4, chapters 8–9 therefore explicate what repentance will look like among the Corinthians. Paul’s confidence in 7:16 leads to his expectations concerning the collection.¹

As the continuation of 1 Corinthians 16:1–4, whose fulfillment was interrupted by the intervening crisis within the Corinthian church, 2 Corinthians 8–9 constitutes one of four Pauline passages dealing with the collection for the believers in Jerusalem (see also Rom. 15:25–32 [written from Corinth]; Gal. 2:9–10). Now that the majority of the Corinthians had repented and were back in control of the church, it was time to resume their giving. Paul’s intention was that the collection would be completed in time for his third visit (2 Cor. 8:11, 24; 9:4).

The reason for the poverty in Jerusalem at this time can only be guessed; it may have been the result of persecution (cf. Acts 11:19) and/or the consequence of bad harvests in the region during the mid A.D. 40s (11:27–30). Whatever the reason, the prototype for Paul’s collection appears to be the famine relief that was sent to Jerusalem earlier from Antioch, with Paul and Barnabas as the delegates who accompanied it (cf. 11:29–30; 12:25; Gal. 2:1). The primary purpose of the collection was once again to bring economic help to the Jerusalem believers (Rom. 15:25–26, 31; 2 Cor. 8:4, 13–15, 19–20; 9:1, 12–13). After all, part of Paul’s apostolic burden was to remember the poor (Gal. 2:10).

The collection, however, was more than simple charity. It had a profound theological purpose, both for the Corinthians and for the church as a whole. For the Corinthians, it was the means by which God’s work of sanctifying grace would continue in their lives. Participating in the collection was a means to becoming more like Jesus (cf. 8:8–10). For the church as a whole, the collection was an act of fellowship that would solidify the unity between Jew and Gentile as one people of God (8:13–15; cf. 9:12–15). The Gentiles’ sharing willingly with Jews from the abundance of God’s provision was a tangible demonstration of the new covenant of the new creation (8:15). Moreover, participating in the collection was a means by which the Gentiles could repay their “debt” to the Jews for the spiritual blessings they had received through them, in fulfillment of the promises to Abraham (cf. Acts 24:17; Rom. 15:7–9, 27).²

As a result, the collection illustrates the significance of Paul’s theology of grace both for the individual (having received from God, Christians give to others) and for the life of the church (having been accepted by God, Christians accept one another). Completing the collection would therefore be the theological capstone of Paul’s apostolic service, bringing his ministry east of Rome to an end (Acts 19:21; Rom. 15:18–29; 1 Cor. 16:1–2, 6; Gal. 2:9).

The Example of the Macedonians (8:1–7)

PAUL BEGINS HIS discussion by using the past experience of the Macedonians (8:1–5) as an example for the Corinthians (8:6–7). The “grace that God has given to the Macedonian churches” (v. 1), which is then defined in verses 2–5, is the same “grace” desired for the Corinthians as well (v. 6), so that they too, like the Macedonians, might excel in this “grace” (v. 7; cf. 9:15, where “grace” appears again, thereby framing the entire argument with this theme). “Grace” (charis) is an inclusive term that refers to God’s undeserved gifts or kindnesses, all of which flow from his primary expression of “grace,” namely, the merciful reconciliation of sinners to himself in Christ (cf. 5:18–21, which is defined as “grace” in 6:1).

Paul’s introduction in 8:1, “we want you to know,” indicates that his forthcoming reference to the grace of God experienced by the Macedonians—that is, the region of Philippi, Thessalonica, and Berea—is not new information for the Corinthians, but a reminder of what they already know (cf. the use of this same introduction in 1 Cor. 11:3; 15:1; 2 Cor. 1:8; Gal. 1:11). Paul’s purpose is not to inform the Corinthians but to draw out for them the implications of what the Macedonians have experienced. The specific content of God’s grace in view here is given in 2 Corinthians 8:2b, with the evidence that it was indeed a gift from God outlined in 8:2a–5. The grace of God received by the Macedonians was their ability to “well up” with a “wealth of generosity”³ toward others in the midst of their own afflictions (v. 2b).⁴ Only the grace of God can account for such generosity springing from the soil of their “extreme poverty” on the one hand, while at the same time issuing forth from their “overflowing joy” on the other!

The Macedonians’ generosity is also evidence that they passed the “test” brought on by their afflictions (8:2; lit., “in much testing of affliction”). Such giving in the midst of adversity with joy (!) confirms that one’s faith is real (for dokime [test, outcome of a test], cf. 2:9; 9:13; 13:3). Joyful giving to others and joy in one’s good fortune, even in the midst of one’s own poverty and suffering, is the sign of having received God’s grace (cf. 1:24; 2:3; 6:10; 7:4, 7, 9, 13, 16). Though the Macedonians gave generously, the “wealth” that spilled over to others was not the amount that the Macedonians could give, but their joy in what God had done for them (cf. Mark 12:42–44; Phil. 4:4; 1 Thess. 1:6).⁵

In 8:3–4, Paul affirms that the Macedonians’ poverty and joy combined to produce such a wealth of generosity because their giving exceeded their ability and was done “entirely on their own,” that is, without being manipulated or coerced (v. 3), since it was the result of their “urgently pleading” to be involved in the collection (v. 4). The terminology used for the collection in verses 3–4 is significant. Participating in the collection is labeled a “grace” (charis; NIV, “privilege”), which is then equated with “sharing” (koinonia; cf. Rom. 15:26), while the collection itself is called a “service” or “ministry” (diakonia) to the saints.

Since these terms are also found with secular meanings in administrative documents of the period,⁶ Paul is possibly making a play on words, infusing them with specifically Christian connotations. What the Macedonians “administered” was the grace of God in a ministry of the gospel. This seems likely in view of Paul’s use of diakonia in 3:7, 8, 9; 4:1; 5:18; 6:3; and 11:8 to refer to his ministry as an apostle. The “sharing” referred to in 8:4 would then be the partnership of believers as they share the gospel and its ministry.

In the same way, the use of the noun paraklesis in 8:4 (“with much urging”; NIV, “urgently”), which can also mean “comfort,” recalls Paul’s use of this same theme in regard to himself in 1:3–7 and 7:4–13, where it refers to the encouragement or comfort that characterizes those in whom God is at work. Here too it describes others in whom God is at work.

Finally, Paul’s “Christianizing” of this administrative language is also reflected in his designation of the recipients of the collection as “saints” (cf. 1:1; 9:1, 12; also Rom. 1:7; 8:27; 12:13; 15:25–26, 31; 1 Cor. 1:2; 6:1–2; 14:33; 16:1,15; Eph. 1:1, 15, 18; Phil. 1:1). Hence, although Paul is speaking about something that happened administratively, he is not speaking as an administrator but as an apostle.

The apostolic context of this passage is made explicit in verse 5, where Paul delineates the final reason the Macedonians gave so generously. Not surprisingly, the explanation is again theological. Not only did they participate in the collection, as one might have expected, but also they gave themselves to God and to Paul in accordance with God’s will.⁷ The greatest expression of God’s grace in a person’s life is not its demonstration toward others, but its response to God and his cause. The most important thing for Paul is not that the Macedonians gave their money to others, but that they gave their lives to God (cf. 5:15; cf. Acts 15:26; Rom. 12:1–2) and to Paul as God’s apostle (2 Cor. 6:11–13; 7:11–12; cf. 12:14; Rom. 16:4; 2 Tim. 4:11). Indeed, since he is the apostle who brought the gospel to Macedonia, the two cannot be separated: To give themselves to the Lord means that the Corinthians gave themselves to Paul.

Of course, the two are not equal. That the Macedonians gave themselves “first” to the Lord is not a reference to a temporal sequence but to the priority of allegiance to God (contra the NIV; the word “then” is not necessarily implicit in the text). Furthermore, the designation “through the will of God” (NIV, “in keeping with God’s will”) is usually used in regard to Paul’s apostleship. Hence, their act of giving themselves to Paul by the will of God is yet another pointer to Paul’s status as God’s appointed representative (cf. Rom. 1:1–7; 1 Cor. 1:1; 2 Cor. 1:1; Gal. 1:14, 15; Eph. 1:1; Col. 1:1; 1 Tim. 1:1). As these linguistic clues indicate, the Macedonians’ participation in the collection is a reflection of God’s work in their lives as well as a stamp of approval on Paul’s ministry of the new covenant (cf. 2 Cor. 3:3–6).

At first glance, the transition from verses 1–5 to verse 6 is not clear. The reader must keep in mind that verses 3–5 look backward, in support of the assertion of verse 2, so that Paul’s urging Titus to return to Corinth in 8:6 does not derive directly from the Macedonians’ giving themselves to God and to Paul in 8:5. Rather, the Macedonians illustrate the ways in which the grace of God manifests itself in the lives of God’s people. Verse 6 thus derives from verses 1–2, which have been supported by verses 3–5.

In other words, encouraged by the Macedonians’ response to God’s grace in their lives (vv. 1–2), Paul sends Titus back to Corinth “to bring also to completion this act of grace on your part” (v. 6). The Macedonians’ “urging” (paraklesis) Paul to allow them to be involved in the collection (v. 4) led him “to urge” (parakaleo, a related verb) Titus to complete the collection in Corinth (v. 6). Paul wants God to do for the Corinthians what he has done for the Macedonians. The Corinthians had begun the collection in the past, but their rebellion had brought it to an end. With their recent repentance has come the opportunity once again to give their money to Jerusalem and to give themselves to God and to their apostle. For as the experience of the Macedonians has testified, this is what happens when the grace of God takes root in the church.

It is difficult to determine whether Titus’s “earlier … beginning” in 8:6 refers to a visit during the previous year to start the collection, so that his actions are behind 1 Corinthians 16:1–2 as well, or whether it refers to the visit mentioned in 2 Corinthians 7:5–6. The latter is to be preferred, since Titus is not mentioned in 1 Corinthians, and 2 Corinthians 7:14 seems to indicate that this was his first visit (cf. 8:6, 10; 9:2; 12:17–18). The “also” in 8:6 thus refers to Titus’s earlier success as the bearer of the tearful letter (cf. 2:4). In this case, the “beginning” Titus made was the grace of God expressed in the Corinthians’ restoration; the completion of this “grace” will be their recommitment to the collection.

Paul’s “urging” Titus to return to Corinth does not refer, therefore, to a passionate attempt to persuade Titus, but to a fervent request to carry out an official task.⁸ In 8:6, Paul is making clear to the Corinthians that in bringing his present letter to them, Titus has been commissioned to bring their recent repentance (the prior act of God’s grace) to its consummation by encouraging their participation in the collection (the present act of God’s grace).

The main point of the Macedonian example is made explicit in verse 7. Like the Macedonians, the Corinthians too “excel” or “overflow” in their experience of God’s grace. Thus, just as the Macedonians responded by “welling up” (perisseuo in 8:2) in generosity, the Corinthians should overflow (perisseuo) in the “grace of giving” (the NIV’s addition “of giving” makes the content of the grace explicit).⁹

According to 8:7, God’s abundant grace toward the Corinthians is seen in their spiritual gifts of “faith … speech … and … knowledge.”¹⁰ This list parallels Paul’s earlier recognition of the Corinthians’ spiritual gifts in 1 Corinthians 1:5; 1:7; 12:8–10, where they were also seen as evidence that the Corinthians lacked nothing from God. In addition, Paul now points to their “earnestness” for him as evidence of God’s grace in their lives (cf. 2 Cor. 7:11–12) and, in turn, to his love for them (cf. 2:4; 6:11; 11:11; 12:14–15).¹¹ This reciprocity of love attests to the restoration of the Corinthians (cf. 2:9; 6:12–13; 7:7, 13–16).

As elsewhere, here too we see Paul’s covenantal framework come to the fore: The indicative reality of what God has already done to redeem and provide for his people grounds and necessitates the imperatives that flow from it (cf. 5:6–10; 21–6:1; 7:1; 8:8, 24). Excelling in spiritual gifts grounds and necessitates excelling in giving. Having received grace from God leads to expressing grace to others. To the degree that the Corinthians are like the Macedonians in possessing a wealth of spiritual gifts (they would probably be tempted to view themselves as even more spiritually blessed than the Macedonians; cf. 1 Cor. 1:5 with 4:8), to that same degree they should be like them in the “wealth” of their generosity. The example of the Macedonians reminds the Corinthians that the reality of their spirituality will be seen in their giving.

The Example of Jesus (8:8–10)

HAVING GIVEN AN implied command in 8:7, Paul immediately qualifies it in verse 8. In calling the Corinthians to excel in giving to the collection, Paul is not speaking “in accordance with a command” (lit. trans.). The NIV wrongly translates this to mean that Paul is not commanding the Corinthians (but cf. the RSV, NRSV, NASB). This version reflects a common interpretation of this passage in which participating in the collection is viewed to be desirable, but not an obligation. As such, the collection functions as a Pauline proof or test of love in that Paul merely advises the Corinthians concerning what they should do, but does not command them concerning what they must do. The test becomes whether the Corinthians will take Paul’s advice or not. This interpretation often points to Paul’s emphasis on the collection as an act of “grace,” assuming that, as such, it cannot be commanded. Instead, Paul’s statement in 9:5 is seen to indicate that the collection must remain a free and spontaneous response on the part of the Corinthians. Those who take this position assume that participation in the collection cannot be voluntary if it is commanded, just as “grace,” to be “grace,” must be a free act.

In contrast to this reading, the point of 8:8 is not to deny that Paul is giving them a command, which he explicitly goes on to do in verse 11! Rather, Paul’s point is that the need to complete the collection (implied in 8:7; explicit in 8:11; cf. 9:7) is not a direct command from Christ, but his own “advice” or “opinion” (8:10) concerning the implications of God’s grace in their lives. Hence, the detail with which Paul develops his argument in chapters 8–9 derives from the fact that, as in 1 Corinthians 7:6, 25, Paul received no specific command concerning this issue from the teachings of Jesus or from the exalted Christ. As in 1 Corinthians 7:1–40, Paul himself must therefore show the inextricable link between the gospel that he was commanded to preach (cf. Rom. 16:25–26; 1 Tim. 1:1; Titus 1:3) and the implications he himself draws from it.

Far from denying that he is commanding the Corinthians, Paul’s qualification in verse 8 demonstrates that what he is saying is his own imperative as an authoritative apostle of Jesus Christ (cf. 10:8; 13:10). The point of 8:8, therefore, is the opposite of Philemon 8–9, where Paul refrains from commanding them “in Christ,” even though he has every right as an apostle to do so. Here he exercises that right!

Paul does not have a direct command from Christ concerning the collection, but he does have the example of the Macedonians on the one hand (8:1–8) and that of Jesus on the other (8:9). Since the Macedonians have graphically illustrated what an experience of God’s grace looks like in the life of believers, Paul can use their “earnestness” in giving as a criterion for “testing”¹² the genuine nature of the Corinthians’ recently regained “love” (8:8). This ongoing test of faith is part of the life of faith itself; such a challenge does not call the genuine nature of faith into question, but instead brings it to light (cf. 2:9; 7:12; 13:5).¹³

Moreover, the purpose of Paul’s test is positive, not negative. He is not tempting them to do wrong, but giving them the stimulus to do what is right. The reference to the Macedonians in 8:1–8 is not intended to create competition between churches, but to cause the Corinthians to join their brothers and sisters in becoming like Christ. Hence, obedience to Paul’s command is not to be an act of compulsion. Instead, it is to be the expression of a willing eagerness to do what is expected. Genuine obedience is an act of delight-driven duty. The greatest way to honor the one who commands is not to obey because one must, but to do what is required with joy, having willingly given oneself to his authority (cf. 8:5, 11; 9:7).

To point to the Macedonians in order to illustrate this truth is one thing; to point to Jesus is quite another. In turning his attention to Christ in 8:9, Paul wants to remind the Corinthians (“for you know”) that Jesus himself is the example of how grace joyfully expresses itself in love. Paul’s references to Jesus’ being “rich” and “poor” do not signify his economic status, but his preexistence with the Father (cf. Gal. 4:4; Phil 2:6) and his entering into the humble circumstances of this world, including death (cf. Rom. 15:3; Phil. 2:7–8; 1 Tim. 3:16). Decoded, this means that Jesus underwent his incarnation (i.e., his becoming “poor”), in spite of his position in heaven (i.e., the fact that he was “rich”), in order that we might be saved (our justification through Jesus’ death means our becoming “rich” through his “poverty;” cf. Rom. 10:12; 11:12; 2 Cor. 5:21; 6:10).

Jesus’ incarnation illustrates that the “grace” expressed in love is the willingness to give up one’s own rights for the sake of meeting the needs of others. The “grace of our Lord Jesus Christ,” which is usually a benediction (see 13:14; cf. Rom. 16:20; 1 Cor. 16:23; Gal. 6:18; Phil. 4:23; 1 Thess. 5:28; 2 Thess. 3:18; Philem. 25), is therefore employed in 2 Corinthians 8:9 as Paul’s defining example of what it will mean for the Corinthians to be like Jesus in this circumstance: to consider the needs of the saints in Jerusalem more important than their own. What Christ has done for the Corinthians (the “grace of Christ” as a benediction), the Corinthians are to do for the Jews (the “grace of Christ” as a model).

Spurred on by how the Macedonians have copied Christ, in 8:10 Paul extends to the Corinthians by implication the same call to participate in the collection, now designated as his “opinion” or “judgment” (gnome; perhaps, “declaration”;¹⁴ the NIV’s “advice” carries the wrong connotation). The key parallel is 1 Corinthians 7:25, which shows again that for Paul to speak of his “opinion” does not indicate that what he says is of no real consequence or obligation. On the contrary, Paul’s “opinion” is his own inference from what he knows of Christ and the gospel in accordance with the leading of the Spirit (cf. 1 Cor. 1:10). Indeed, since the “test” in verse 8 is now equated with his apostolic “opinion” in verse 10, Paul’s assumption is that his Spirit-led admonition will be received by those in whom the Spirit dwells (cf. 1 Cor. 2:12–14, where the Spirit’s purpose is to enable believers to accept the gifts granted by God).

In line with this assumption, in verse 10b Paul expresses the basis for his giving the Corinthians his “judgment” concerning the collection. Verse 10b begins with gar (“for, because”), unfortunately omitted in the NIV. Literally, verse 10 reads: “I am giving an opinion in this matter, for [gar] this is beneficial¹⁵ to you as those who began last year not only to give, but also to desire [to give].” The NIV’s use of a semicolon after verse 10a breaks up the flow of thought at this point. Paul has expressed his opinion on this issue precisely because the Corinthians’ desire to participate in the collection “last year” (i.e., before the intervening crisis occurred¹⁶), which had already resulted in some giving (cf. 1 Cor. 16:1–2), provided initial indications that they had truly been converted. As a result, to complete what they have started is advantageous for them as continuing evidence of God’s grace in their lives. Not to complete the collection will signal that they are turning back on their earlier professed membership in the people of God.

Understood in this way, Paul’s argument is not one of simple expediency (i.e., it is better to finish what one has begun than not to do so¹⁷), but another expression of his conviction that genuine faith perseveres. The Corinthians’ desire to give in the past cannot substitute for a lack of desire in the present. What began earlier, if it was genuine, must and will continue on as part of their restored faith.

It is also striking that the “not only … but also” comparison in 8:10 underscores the priority of one’s intention over one’s actions. Inasmuch as one can perform apparently loving acts that do not flow from love and are therefore worthless (cf. 1 Cor. 13), Paul’s stress is not on the action itself but on the desire that drives it. He calls the believers in Corinth back to the collection because he has every reason to believe that their initial desire to give was an expression of the love that is born of the Spirit (cf. Gal. 5:22). For what matters in the end is whether their act of giving is an act of grace toward others, like the incarnation of Christ, and whether it flows from God’s grace, like the giving of the Macedonians.

Paul’s Expectation for the Corinthians (8:11–15)

THE COMMAND IMPLIED in 8:7 and 10 is made explicit in verse 11. This is the only formal command found in chapters 8–9: The Corinthians are to complete the collection so that the work of the Spirit in their lives, as seen in their “eager willingness” to give, may come to fruition. Here too the completion of the collection is tied to their desire to participate. The importance of this heartfelt motivation is seen in the repetition throughout these two chapters of the theme of “eagerness” (cf. 8:11, 12, 19; 9:2). In addition, the reference in 8:11 to giving “according to your means” picks up an important theme regarding the collection (cf. 8:3, 12–14), one that will raise the question of how to determine what one’s means actually are (cf. 9:5–11).

Thus, verse 11 makes it plain that there is an obligation to give, but no call to give beyond what one can afford.¹⁸ By comparing the Corinthians to the Macedonians, who were less well off and yet gave beyond their means (cf. 8:3), Paul is not trying to manipulate the believers in Corinth to do likewise. Rather, Paul’s qualification that the amount given need not exceed one’s ability (in contrast to the Macedonians) serves to emphasize the fundamental point that where the heart is, the will must follow. It is the condition of one’s heart and the circumstances of one’s life, not the attempt to measure up to the practices of others, that should determine how much a person will give. As Paul makes clear in this passage, genuine desire acts. The issue is not the amount given (but cf. 9:5–11), but the expression of willingness. Action without the right attitude is of no avail, but a genuine attitude inevitably results in action.

Paul’s emphasis in verse 11 on the priority of one’s attitude over the amount given, as well as on the inextricable link between attitude and action, is grounded in verse 12, which is itself supported by verses 13–15 (v. 13 too begins with gar, “for,” omitted in the NIV). By way of emphasis, Paul again states in verse 12 that what makes the gift acceptable to God is the “willingness” to give in accordance with one’s means, not the amount given. The Corinthians need not wait to give until they can give more, as if the size of the offering made it acceptable to God. The example of the Macedonians illustrates that proportionate giving means that even the poor can make a great contribution (cf. Luke 12:48).

The reason Paul stresses proportionate giving is because the purpose of the collection is not to relieve the saints in Jerusalem by impoverishing the Corinthians. Rather, the goal is to create an “equality” between them with reference to their basic necessities (v. 13), which is defined as a reciprocity in meeting each other’s needs (v. 14; cf. Acts 2:44–45; 4:32–37; Gal. 6:10; for the only other New Testament use of “equality,” cf. Col. 4:1).

A key question concerning 8:14, therefore, is whether Paul envisions that one day the Jerusalem believers will reciprocate by meeting the financial needs of the Corinthians. Though possible, this seems unlikely, given the economic disparity between the groups. Paul is probably referring to the Gentiles’ present contribution to Israel as an expression of their spiritual fellowship and identity (cf. 9:14) and to Israel’s ongoing spiritual “contribution” to the Gentiles as part of the eschatological redemption of the world (cf. Rom. 11:11, 12, 25–26, 30–32). If this is Paul’s intention, then the reference to “the present time” is not merely temporal, but also a reference to the present period of redemptive history (cf. Rom. 3:26; 8:18; 11:5; cf. Gal. 1:4). Within the eschatological people of God, each gives what they have: The Gentiles can support the Jews financially, while the Jews can support the Gentiles with leadership and the ministry of the gospel (cf. Rom. 15:27).¹⁹

The Corinthians’ participation in the collection should lead to an equality that results from proportionate and reciprocal giving. Paul’s final support (v. 15) for this expectation is Israel’s experience with the manna in the desert as summarized in Exodus 16:18. Far from being merely an illustrative filler for his argument, Paul’s return to the Scriptures at this point highlights the importance of the collection itself and of Paul’s own emphasis on its intended equality. As yet another application of the Exodus typology that has been developed throughout 2:14–7:16, Paul affirms that the “equality” of provision in the event of the Exodus is matched by an equality under the new covenant. God’s promise to provide for his people, as embodied in the manna and quail, has been reconfirmed in Christ (cf. 2 Cor. 8:9 with 1:20) and applied to the Corinthians as God’s people of the “second exodus.”

But whereas the equality in the “first Exodus” was established miraculously by God for the people because of their hard hearts (cf. Ex. 16:18, 28), now it is being established by the people themselves through their own Spirit-led sharing. While God supplied Israel’s physical needs with manna and quail but did not change their spiritual condition, under the new covenant God is meeting the spiritual needs of the Corinthians in order that they might meet the physical needs of others (cf. 2 Cor. 9:8–11). Paul’s expectation in 8:11 is thus one more expression of his confidence in the transforming power of the presence of God under the new covenant (cf. 3:3, 6, 18). For this reason, Paul leaves the amount of their giving up to the Corinthians, convinced that, as a new creation in Christ (5:17), the quantity of their giving will match the quality of their changed hearts (5:15).

Hence, everything Paul says in 8:1–15 is designed to ground his explicit command to complete the collection, as their resources allow (v. 11). Rhetorically, Paul’s command is sandwiched between the examples of the Macedonians and of Jesus on the one side (8:1–10), and Scripture on the other (vv. 12–15). Just as 6:14–7:1 reflects the Corinthians’ status and obligations as God’s new covenant people, expressed negatively (“Separate yourselves from unbelievers”), so too 8:1–15 reflects this same status and obligation, now expressed positively (“Give to believers”). The Corinthians’ renewed willingness to participate in the collection will be an undeniable reflection of their repentance and restoration to Christ.

Bridging Contexts

THE VERTICAL DIMENSION. In studying Paul’s discussion of the offering for the saints in Jerusalem, the reader is caught by surprise by the number of words Paul uses for it: The offering is a logeia (collection, 1 Cor. 16:1–2), eulogia (blessing, 2 Cor. 9:5), leitourgia (priestly service, 9:12; cf. Rom. 15:27), koinonia (fellowship, partnership, sharing, Rom. 15:26; 2 Cor. 8:4; 9:13; cf. the related verb in Rom. 15:27), diakonia (service, ministry, 2 Cor. 8:4; 9:1, 12, 13), and, most important, an expression of charis (grace, 1 Cor. 16:3; 2 Cor. 8:1, 4, 6, 7, 9; cf. 8:19; 9:8, 14). For Paul, the simple but profound act of giving away one’s money carries a multitude of meanings.

It is therefore even more surprising that Paul’s word choices for describing the collection “are all derived from the vocabulary of human relationships with God and sacred acts of worship,” and none of them make any direct mention of money.²⁰ Any application of Paul’s thoughts on “giving” must therefore emphasize (and be convinced of) Paul’s theological justification for giving. Otherwise, people will quickly detect that our admonitions to give are nothing more than a thinly veiled plea for money. Paul’s primary concern is not the “budget,” but the fruition of genuine grace in the lives of believers.

We must keep this vertical dimension of giving clearly in focus. For Paul, the basis for giving to others is not what they have done or will do for us, but what God has already done for us in Christ. The foundation of giving is God’s grace. Just as the language of Christ’s poverty and wealth in 8:9 is metaphorical, so too the reference in 8:9 to the believer’s becoming “rich” is metaphorical. Though it is already an embarrassing indictment on the modern church even to have to say this, there is no warrant for a “health and wealth gospel” in this passage. Giving to others is not planting a “seed of faith” that will bring even greater material dividends in return. Giving is the expression of faith itself, content in what God has given and will give in accordance with his own providential care.

At the same time, we must also be careful to consider the incarnation of Christ a prototype for believers, not a mandate. We do not become literally “poor” for the justification of others. Nor must believers give up their wealth entirely in order to follow Christ’s example. Paul nowhere tells his congregations how much to give, nor to give until their economic status is reduced. Paul’s point in 8:13 is just the opposite. And in 8:9, the example of Christ does not serve to support a universal call to become literally poor for the sake of an itinerant ministry.

Nevertheless, in 6:10 Paul does apply to himself as an apostle the principle of imitating Christ in his literal poverty in order to make others spiritually rich—so that some believers are in fact called to such a life of poverty. But this must be a matter of personal calling, not universal principle. Instead, we become “like Christ” as we act in our context in the same way as Christ acted in his: giving up our physical resources for others because of our spiritual riches in God. Paul’s reference to Christ functions to support why willing and proportionate giving to others is a necessary act of Christ-like love for those who claim to be Christians (8:8; cf. Eph. 5:1).

The grace behind giving. Our interpretation of this passage has emphasized that one’s attitude in giving is more important than the amount of one’s gift. Paul never establishes a standard for giving, only the standard of giving. He stresses that the Macedonians’ generosity derived from their joy; their joy did not derive from their generosity. The progression of thought in 8:2 is from grace to joy to giving, not the other way around. Their giving was an expression of God’s grace, not their own moral or spiritual virtue; they gave to others because they were already experiencing an “overflowing joy” from God. Since God’s grace is the springboard for our giving, even our gifts rebound to God’s glory. The only real giver is God.

Our temptation, however, is to turn giving into a display of our own benevolence rather than giving out of our contented satisfaction in God. It is easy to succumb to this temptation, since in doing so we get the credit for our gifts, rather than God receiving the praise for making them possible. Giving is not a way of showing God how much we can do for him, but a way of illustrating how much God has done for us.

Unfortunately, Paul is often interpreted to be saying that “commanding” the Corinthians to give destroys the willing and eager nature of the collection as an expression of “grace.” But pitting God’s commands against his grace in this way reduces grace to an abstraction divorced from its necessary impact in the lives of its recipients. As a result, Paul’s admonitions become “advice,” not commands, since commands are viewed as the enemy of a response that is voluntary (8:3), willing (8:11, 12), generous (8:2), eager (8:7, 8), and overflowing (8:2, 3, 7, 14). In other words, what makes the collection a matter of “grace” is that the Corinthians are left free to participate or not, as they wish, whereas a command would make giving obligatory.²¹ Others who view 8:8, 10 as a qualification of Paul’s argument (i.e., not a “command” but an “opinion”) attribute his advice to his “permissive style of writing,” showing “how he sensed the need to handle tactfully those who had just come back to his side.”²² Thus, verse 10 reflects “Paul’s hesitancy in appearing too forceful,” while the command in verse 11 is merely a “mild injunction.”²³

In stark contrast, we have argued that in verses 8 and 10 Paul is not backing away from his command, but merely indicating that his injunction is his own admonition as an apostle, not a word that he has received directly from the Lord or from Scripture. Paul is not handling the Corinthians with “kid gloves” because of their recent repentance. Just the opposite. Here too, as in chapter 7, his command is the means of demonstrating the genuine nature of repentance.

It is crucial, therefore, that we not pit the grace of God against the commands of God as part of a false dichotomy that views faith and obedience as two distinct ways of relating to God. Paul sees no conflict between God’s grace and his commands. God’s commands express how the experience of his grace will manifest itself in everyday life. Every command of God is a promise of God in disguise. God commands what he commands because he promises what he promises. Obedience to his commands is made possible by trusting in his promises.

Hence, obedience to the commands of God is the daily expression of our dependence on his promised provision in our lives. What makes our growing obedience an act of divine grace (i.e., God’s unmerited and undeserved favor and blessing) is the priority of “the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ” as the all-sufficient basis of our reconciliation and righteousness (8:9), the power of the Spirit as the gift of grace that makes our obedience possible (cf. 1:22; 3:3, 6–18), and the promise of forgiveness as the expression of grace in mercy that surrounds our progressive, but not perfect sanctification (2:7–10; 7:9–10). The indicatives of verse 7a lead to the implied imperative of verse 7b, not the other way around. And in verses 10–11 it is the grace-created desire that leads to giving, not our giving that creates new desires.

Give what you’ve got. In the light of the full force of Paul’s command in this passage, it is also important to emphasize, as a matter of principle, that Paul stresses proportionate giving. This is an important qualification, for it ensures that the force of Paul’s command is felt by all, regardless of economic status. Since Christ-like giving is dependent on experiencing God’s grace, not our personal resources, the amount given in comparison to others means nothing (but see 9:6–11 to determine what is a proper amount). The attitude behind the action is everything.

Moreover, the universal applicability of Paul’s command is supported by the sociological makeup of the early churches. Ever since the comments of Celsus in the second century, people have often argued that the early church was a lower class movement of the uneducated, the oppressed, slaves, and the poor.²⁴Recent studies have shown, however, that “the most appropriate conclusion about the early Christians is … that they represented all social classes except the aristocratic class and that the church reflected the diverse social classes to be found in the wider society.”²⁵

In accordance with this general picture, Paul had instructed his readers in 1 Corinthians 16:2: “On the first day of every week, each one of you should set aside a sum of money in keeping with his income, saving it up, so that when I come no collections will have to be made.” As Meeks points out, “this bespeaks the economy of small people, not destitute, but not commanding capital either. This, too, would fit the picture of fairly well-off artisans and tradespeople as the typical Christians.”²⁶ For, as Meeks observes, “the extreme top and bottom of the Greco-Roman social scale are missing from the picture.”²⁷ In applying this text we can be confident that Paul is speaking to a church with the same kind of economic diversity reflected in most of our own.

Giving as worship. Finally, we must be careful in applying this passage and passages like it not to convert it into a lesson on the general morality of giving. “The admonition implicit in this statement is not ‘Do what Christ did’; or even, ‘Do for others what Christ has done for you.’ It is, rather, ‘Do what is appropriate to your status as those who have been enriched by the grace of Christ.’ ”²⁸ Paul is not advocating an abstract, moral duty, but a theology. His goal in stirring up the Corinthians to give is to verify the genuine nature of their love as Christians (8:8, 11). This is why he emphasizes the earnestness that must characterize their giving. For “ancient thought on public fund-raising exhibited particular concern to maintain the voluntary nature of subscriptions. This had its cause in the frequent abuse of putting pressure on the contributors.”²⁹

Such an emphasis is as important in our day as it was in Paul’s. Today, too, the amount of money means little (8:12); the motivation means everything (8:7, 11–12; cf. 9:5). This becomes shockingly clear when we compare this passage to Paul’s famous words in 1 Corinthians 13:3: Even giving away everything we have, without love, will gain us nothing—except to prepare us for God’s judgment. Giving to others may or may not be an act of love, depending on whether it is motivated by the overflowing joy that flows from having been made “rich” by Christ (8:1, 5–7, 9, 10–12). Hence, nobody has captured the theological principles at work in this passage with more passion and precision than John Piper, who is worth listening to at length concerning the nature of Christian love as expressed in our passage:

Love Is the Overflow of Joy in God2 Corinthians 8:1–4, 8 shows that Paul thinks of genuine love only in relation to God…. He writes 2 Corinthians 8 and 9 to motivate the Corinthians to be generous. The crucial thing for our purpose is to notice that in 8:8 he says this is a test of their love….The clear implication of 8:8 (especially the word “also”) is that the Macedonians’ generosity is a model of love that the Corinthians “also” should copy. By recounting the earnest love of the Macedonians, Paul aims to stir up the Corinthians to genuine love also. So here we have a test case to see just what the love of 1 Corinthians 13 looks like in real life. The Macedonians have given away their possessions just as 1 Corinthians 13:3 says (“If I give away all I have”). But here it is real love, while there it was not love at all. What makes the Macedonian generosity a genuine act of love?The nature of genuine love can be seen in four things:First, it is a work of divine grace (8:1)…. The generosity of the Macedonians was not of human origin. Even though verse three says they gave “of their own accord,” the willingness was a gift of God—a work of grace.You can see this same combination of God’s sovereign grace resulting in man’s willingness in 8:16–17…. God put it in [Titus’s] heart. So he goes of his own accord. The willingness is a gift—a work of divine grace.Second, this experience of God’s grace filled the Macedonians with joy (8:2)…. Note that their joy was not owing to the fact that God had prospered them financially. He hadn’t! In “extreme poverty” they had joy. Therefore the joy was a joy in God—in the experience of his grace.Third, their joy in God’s grace overflowed in generosity to meet the needs of others (8:2)…. Therefore the liberality expressed horizontally toward men was an overflow of joy in God’s grace.Fourth, the Macedonians begged for the opportunity to sacrifice their meager possessions for the saints in Jerusalem (8:3–4)…. In other words, the way their joy in God overflowed was in the joy of giving. They wanted to give. It was their joy!Now we can give a definition of love that takes God into account and also includes the feelings that should accompany the outward acts of love: Love is the overflow of joy in God which gladly meets the needs of others.Paul did not set the Macedonians up as a model of love just because they sacrificed in order to meet the needs of others. What he stresses is how they loved doing this (remember Micah 6:8!). It was the overflow of JOY! They “begged earnestly” to give. They found their pleasure in channeling the grace of God through their poverty to the poverty in Jerusalem. It is simply astonishing!This is why a person can give his body to be burned and not have love. Love is the overflow of joy in God! It is not duty for duty’s sake, or right for right’s sake. It is not a resolute abandoning of one’s own good with a view solely to the good of the other person. It is first a deeply satisfying experience of the fullness of God’s grace, and then a doubly satisfying experience of sharing that grace with another person.When poverty-stricken Macedonians beg Paul for the privilege of giving money to other poor saints, we may assume that this is what they want to do, not just ought to do, or have to do, but really long to do. It is their joy—an extension of their joy in God. To be sure, they are “denying themselves” whatever pleasures or comforts they could have from the money they give away, but the joy of extending God’s grace to others is a far better reward than anything money could buy. The Macedonians have discovered the labor of Christian Hedonism! It is the overflow of joy in God which gladly meets the needs of others.³⁰

Contemporary Significance

WILLIAM DYRNESS HAS observed that

in many respects American identity is established in material terms. We define ourselves by our relation to our material environment, perhaps more than our relation to other people (or even to God). That this has resulted in great material prosperity and great technological accomplishment we can readily acknowledge. But we [note] a dark side as well: Americans invariably tend to endow material means with ultimate or final value. Owning a home, for example, is seen as one of the ends of life rather than as a means to other ends. Meaning is attached to accumulating an estate far beyond any conceivable use.³¹

The point Dyrness makes is that this cultural backdrop has permeated our preaching of the gospel. In his words:

Communicating the gospel in America will invariably reflect these emphases. On the one hand, it will tend to affirm the quest for achievement. It might emphasize that God loves us and seeks to help us realize our potential or our gifts (He “has a wonderful plan for our life”). On the other hand, it will encourage a practical no-nonsense kind of faith, a “faith that works” … it will in general affirm the goodness and value of the person and the created order. As a rule, Christians in America will feel the need of affirmation rather than of deliverance.³²

The question must be raised whether this adaptation to our culture is not a syncretism that compromises the gospel itself. Is God the great “supporter of my goals,” the assistant assigned to help me realize my potential? Is the call to give merely an affirmation of my duty within society as part of a mutually interdependent created order? Is my giving an expression of my inherent goodness as a person? Sloppy thinking about this crucial area of our lives as Christians will open the door for an invasion of American self-serving materialism and self-congratulating moralism.

The smorgasbord of values. This confusion of our culture with the gospel struck me with new force recently in a series of flyers that we received at our church on the subject of “smart giving.”³³ Not surprisingly, they appeared in our bulletins over several weeks toward the end of the year, when most people do the greatest percentage of their giving. What surprised me, however, was their mixed message. They reminded us that regular giving is a Christian characteristic and that at the end of the “tax year,” there “may be appropriate tax motivations to make a gift now and receive an additional charitable deduction.” Moreover, the many sound, biblical insights scattered throughout the material were not integrated with its “practical” content within any kind of coherent theological framework. Instead, the flyers were filled with “sound bytes” on giving.

Because of this lack of biblical evaluation and theological grounding, there was much in the material that smacked of American, self-help pragmatism. For example, at the end of the lead brochure we were rightly told that “responsive giving is an outward evidence of God’s grace in the Christian’s life” (referring to 2 Cor. 8:7). But it was hard to square this with the rationale for giving presented at the beginning. After calling us to “consider God as the Original Giver and His giving,” the flyer promised: “Your Christian life will be enriched and be more successful when you have a proper giver’s perspective.” True, but “enriched” and “successful” in what sense? The brochure never said. So, in the context of giving money and without a careful, God-centered explication, one can easily guess what definition will naturally be given to these all-important terms!

Furthermore, in the middle of the first flyer we were rightly enjoined to give willingly and proportionately (citing 2 Cor. 8:11–12) and reminded that “giving Christians evidence God’s existence to the world.” But we were also told that as part of the “essence of giving” we “transfer treasure from earth to heaven” (citing Matt. 6:19–21; Phil. 4:17–18). Again, this could be a helpful biblical perspective. Yet without a theological framework, such ambiguous affirmations give the impression that generous giving on earth is part of an eternal investment policy in which we store up material “treasure” in heaven. There was no reference to giving as an instrument by which we learn to recognize that the kingdom of God and its righteousness are themselves the real and only treasure worth having! Giving is not a way to transfer earthly treasure into heaven (as if being in God’s presence were not enough), but a way of demonstrating that earthly treasures cannot compare to those of heaven. According to Matthew 6:19–21, we are not to transfer our treasure, but to seek a new one! What this illustrates is that when biblical reflection is missing, godly motivation is left wanting.

The flyers presented in the following weeks exhibited this same dangerous lack of biblical evaluation. One flyer asked and answered the question, “How can I give?” The responses, in this order, were: “Cash or check” (prized first because it is “simple and easy” and “readily usable”), “Stocks, bonds,” etc. (prized because one avoids capital gains tax), “Bargain Sale,” “Property,” “Employer Match,” “Business Gift,” “Cheerfully,” “Willingly,” “Proportionately,” “Regularly.” What bothered me was not the call to exercise wisdom in managing our assets. What was troubling was that giving “cheerfully” and “willingly” was on the same conceptual level as a “bargain sale” and that these conditions of the heart were not listed first, but last (together with “proportionately” and “regularly”).

Moreover, there was no theological narrative to place these answers in any kind of context. This smorgasbord approach to answering the question of how to give leaves the impression that there is an array of ways to give and that we should pick the one that fits us best, whether “cash” on the one hand or “willingly” on the other, as long as we give.

The other flyer asked and answered the question, “Why give?” In doing so, it ticked off the following answers, in this apparently random order: “Worship God,” “Praise God” (one wonders what the intended distinction between worshiping and praising God was), “Love God,” “Invest in changing lives,” “Family participation,” “Pay dues” (with the explanation that one is expected to contribute for the services rendered by the church), “See your investment at work,” “Integrity in management,” “Giving breaks the chains of money and materialism” (which may or may not be true, of course), “God commands it,” “Giving blesses the giver,” and “You’ll enjoy it!” Although in this case the worship of God was first, we were still encouraged to take our choice of motivations—whether paying our dues, making an investment, or simply enjoying the fact that our money was being well managed, all the while getting blessed. Such a deal!

It is staggering that when it comes to giving, the church spends so little time and theological energy addressing our most cherished cultural values, namely, the materialistic accumulation of money and the idolatrous status and security that come through material possessions. When we do speak about giving, we are quick to adopt the motivational strategies and mores of our culture. The fact that Paul devotes so much of 2 Corinthians, his letter of restoration and apologetic for the truth, to the issue of the collection should be a sober reminder of the significance of this aspect of our Christian life. Nowhere is our materialism challenged more directly, and nowhere do we skirt the issues more often, than when it comes to expressing the genuine nature of our faith and the unity of the church through our giving.

Learning from the Macedonians. The example of the Macedonians is still instructive today. In a radical role reversal of the world’s values, the abundance of their poverty, fueled by the riches of their joy in God, led to a wealth of generosity. We usually think of “fund raisers” as encouraging those who can afford to give to give more; in the Macedonian churches those who had nothing begged to give. Why? Paul’s answer is the grace of God. Indeed, the “also” of 8:7 shows that giving is just as much a spiritual gift of grace as any of the other charismatic gifts the Corinthians had received. Giving is not merely an expression of compassion for the needy. Nor is it simply a reflection of our own concern. Rather, the spiritual gift of giving to others is to be the reflex of our own joy in the grandeur of God’s gift to us in Christ. As we have seen, the Macedonians’ joy led to giving, not the other way around. For this reason, throughout Paul’s discussion, the collection is termed a “grace” and a “ministry!”

Thus, following Paul, giving is not motivated by trying to convince people of how “smart” and “responsible” and “enjoyable” it is to give. By participating in the collection the Macedonians were not trying to pay their dues or make a wise financial investment. Instead, they were savoring and seeking the kingdom of God. Only the greater treasures of the kingdom of God can free us from clinging to the competing treasures of this world (cf. Jesus’ call to do some “comparison shopping” in Matt. 6:19–21). Only the deeper satisfaction that comes from spending ourselves for others can defeat the sinfully natural impulse to use others for our own ends. And giving up ourselves for others can take place only when our own security needs have already been met in the Christ who spent himself for us (8:9). Hence, rather than focusing merely on more effective ways to advertise the benefits and obligations of giving, we need to pray for the pouring out of God’s Spirit on his people. Instead of bigger fund-raising campaigns, we need a bigger picture of God.

Paul’s discussion of the collection makes clear how much we have been lulled to sleep by the materialistic, self-seeking ethos around us. Our culture’s mythology of “deserving what we have earned” has often led to a culturally compromised Christianity. Under the lure of our materialism, this sense of deserving what we have earned expresses itself by “rewarding” ourselves through spending our surplus on luxury. As a result, we find it almost impossible to be countercultural when it comes to money.

We lack models of that kind of joyful, “Macedonian” giving that comes from a profound experience of God’s grace. As a result, we struggle against a nominalism that chokes out voluntary, sacrificial giving as an unsavory example of religious fanaticism. What could be more “fanatical” in our day than to live below one’s level of income for the sake of giving away as much money as possible? In today’s world, the Macedonians’ giving out of their poverty serves as a wake-up call in the midst of our self-satisfying slumber.

Listening to William Law. Such nominalism is nothing new. In the early eighteenth century, William Law (1686–1761) faced the same lack of godliness within the church that we face today, despite (or, as he argued, because of) the “Christian” culture that dominated much of England at the time. In 1728 he responded by publishing A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life.³⁴ In it, Law issued a plain but profound plea to consider what knowing God means in every aspect of life. He called for this consistent examination since, by definition, the devout person “makes all the parts of his common life, parts of piety, by doing everything in the name of God, and under such rules as are conformable to His glory” (ch. i, 1).³⁵

Law recognized that central to this concern for godliness is the issue of money. Like Paul, he perceived that our attitudes and actions toward our possessions reveal the reality of God’s grace in our lives. It is not accidental that when Paul moved to apply his gospel to the repentant, he immediately turned to the collection. As Jesus said, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also…. You cannot serve both God and Money” (Matt. 6:21, 24). So too, after Law outlined the nature, obligation, and obstacles to devotion in general (chs. i-v), the first specific issue he takes up, and then develops in detail for three entire chapters, is “the great obligations, and the advantages of making a wise and religious use of our estates and fortunes” (ch. vi, 50). For as Law observes, our attitudes toward and use of money influence almost every area of our lives: “Because the manner of using our money, or spending our estate, enters so far into the business of every day, and makes so great a part of our common life, that our common life must be much of the same nature as our common way of spending our estate” (ch. vi, 50).

So Law’s theological concern is imminently practical: The way we spend our money determines the character of our lives, even as the character of our lives determines how we spend our money. In short, we know who we are by how we spend our money. In Law’s words:

Every exhortation in Scripture to be wise and reasonable, satisfying only such wants as God would have satisfied; every exhortation to be spiritual and heavenly, pressing after a glorious change of our nature; every exhortation to love our neighbour as ourselves, to love all mankind as God has loved them, is a command to be strictly religious in the use of money. (ch. vi, 53)

Like Paul in 2 Corinthians 8:9, Law’s call was to apply the cross to our money.

The Christian’s great conquest over the world is all contained in the mystery of Christ upon the cross. It was there and from thence that He taught all Christians how they were to come out of and conquer the world, and what they were to do in order to be His disciples. And all the doctrines, sacraments, and institutions of the Gospel are only so many explications of the meaning, and applications of the benefit of this great mystery.And the state of Christianity implieth nothing else but an entire, absolute conformity to that spirit which Christ showed in the mysterious sacrifice of Himself upon the cross. (ch. xvii, 196)

Further, like Paul in 2 Corinthians 8:6–7, Law saw that conformity to Christ in giving was not an option or merely good advice, but the necessary outworking of what it meant to be Christian itself.

Every man, therefore, is only so far a Christian as he partakes of this spirit of Christ.… The necessity of this conformity to all that Christ did and suffered upon our account is very plain from the whole tenor of Scripture.… If “we suffer with Him, we shall also reign with Him.” …It was for this reason that the holy Jesus said of His disciples, and in them of all true believers, “They are not of this world, as I am not of this world.” Because all true believers conforming to the sufferings, crucifixion, death, and resurrection of Christ live no longer after the spirit and temper of this world, but their life is hid with Christ in God. (ch. xvii, 196–198)

Thus, just as God calls the Christian to forgive his brother “seventy times seven” (Matt. 18:21–22, RSV), Law saw this “rule of forgiving” to be “the rule of giving” as well. In his words, “it is as necessary to give to seventy times seven, to live in the continual exercise of all good works to the utmost of our power, as it is necessary to forgive until seventy times seven, and live in the habitual exercise of this forgiving temper” (ch. vi, 56).

Law knew that the loophole in such a call is our propensity to spend luxuriously on ourselves so that we are not “able” to give to others. So Law went to the jugular vein of our compromised values in order to cut the life-blood of materialism: To spend needlessly on ourselves at the expense of others is a denial of our salvation itself. For Law, as for Paul in 8:8, the test of genuine faith was a willingness to give and the adoption of a lifestyle that makes giving possible.

It is as much the best use of our money to be always doing good with it as it is the best use of it at any particular time; so that that which is a reason for a charitable action is as good a reason for a charitable life.… If, therefore, it be our duty at any time to deny ourselves any needless expenses, to be moderate and frugal, that we may have to give to those that want, it is as much our duty to do so at all times, that we may be further able to do more good.… Either, therefore, you must so far renounce your Christianity as to say, that you need never perform any of these good works; or you must own that you are to perform them all your life in as high a degree as you are able. There is no middle way to be taken, any more than there is a middle way betwixt pride and humility, or temperance and intemperance.… Hence also appears the necessity of renouncing all those foolish and unreasonable expenses which the pride and folly of mankind have made so common and fashionable in the world. For if it is necessary to do good works as far as you are able, it must be as necessary to renounce those needless ways of spending money, which render you unable to do works of charity.… When, therefore, any one tells you of the lawfulness of expensive apparel, or the innocency of pleasing yourself with costly satisfactions, only imagine that the same person was to tell you that you need not do works of charity, that Christ does not require you to do good unto your poor brethren as unto Him, and then you will see the wickedness of such advice; for to tell you that you may live in such expenses as make it impossible for you to live in the exercise of good works, is the same thing as telling you that you need not have any care about such good works themselves. (ch. vi, 56–58)

This is indeed a “serious call.” Law realized that he was living in a dangerous day. He saw clearly that the values of the secular world, “with its passions of sensuality, self-love, pride, covetousness, ambition, and vain-glory” (ch. xvii, 200), had infiltrated the nominal “Christian world.” Law also recognized that this posed an even greater threat to the faithful than direct persecution:

And indeed the world, by professing Christianity, is so far from being a less dangerous enemy than it was before, that it has by its favours destroyed more Christians than ever it did by the most violent persecution.… We must guard against it as a greater and more dangerous enemy now than it was in those times.It is a greater enemy, because it has greater power over Christians by its favours, riches, honours, rewards, and protections, than it had by the fire and fury of its persecutions.It is a more dangerous enemy by having lost its appearance of enmity….Whilst pride, sensuality, covetousness, and ambition had only the authority of the heathen world, Christians were thereby made more intent upon the contrary virtues. But when pride, sensuality, covetousness, and ambition have the authority of the Christian world, then private Christians are in the utmost danger not only of being shamed out of the practice, but of losing the very notion of the piety of the Gospel. (ch. xvii, 200–202)

It is therefore not surprising that the litmus test for whether one has capitulated to the authority of the secular, “Christian world” is money: “How can a man be made more incapable of the spirit of Christ than by a wrong value for money; and yet how can he be more wrong in his value of it than by following the authority of the Christian world?” (ch. xvii, 202). How we spend our money is no innocent matter:

Now this is truly the case of riches spent upon ourselves in vain and needless expenses; in trying to use them where they have no real use, nor we any real want, we only use them to our great hurt, in creating unreasonable desires, in nourishing ill tempers, in indulging our passions, and supporting a worldly, vain turn of mind.… So that money thus spent is not merely wasted, or lost, but it is spent to bad purposes, and miserable effects, to the corruption and disorder of our hearts, and to the making us less able to live up to the sublime doctrines of the Gospel. It is but like keeping money from the poor to buy poison for ourselves. (ch. vi, 52–53)

We must be careful here. Law’s call is uncompromising: We are to live in order to give. But it is by no means a summons to a self-destructive “sacrifice” or joyless martyrdom. Law’s extended treatise on devotion and happiness makes it clear that just the opposite is true. There he argues that “great devotion fills our lives with the greatest peace and happiness that can be enjoyed in this world” (ch. xi, 102). Accordingly, Law’s “serious call to a devout and holy life” is a serious call to be happy. As he put it:

As there is no foundation for comfort in the enjoyments of this life, but in the assurance that a wise and good God governeth the world, so that the more we find out God in every thing, the more we apply to Him in every place, the more we look up to Him in all our actions, the more we conform to His will, the more we act according to His wisdom, and imitate His goodness, by so much the more do we enjoy God, partake of the divine nature, and heighten and increase all that is happy and comfortable in human life. (ch. xi, 102)

Understood in this way, the Christian faith teaches believers how to use everything God has granted them, so that they “may have always the pleasure of receiving a right benefit from them” (ch. xi, 110). Specifically,

it shows [a person] what is strictly right in meat, drink, and clothes; and that he has nothing else to expect from the things of this world but to satisfy such wants of his own, and then to extend his assistance to all his brethren, that, as far as he is able, he may help all his fellow-creatures to the same benefit from the world that he hath.[Conversely] it tells him that this world is incapable of giving him any other happiness, and that all endeavours to be happy in heaps of money, or acres of land, in fine clothes, rich beds, stately equipage, and show and splendour, are only vain endeavours, ignorant attempts after impossibilities; these things being no more able to give the least degree of happiness than dust in the eyes can cure thirst, or gravel in the mouth can satisfy hunger; but like dust and gravel misapplied, will only serve to render him more unhappy by such an ignorant misuse of them. (ch. xi, 110)

Hence, if we are told,

“sell that thou hast, and give to the poor,” it is because there is no other natural or reasonable use of our riches, no other way of making ourselves happier for them…. For if a man has more food than his own nature requires, how base and unreasonable is it to invent foolish ways of wasting it, and make sport of his own full belly, rather than let his fellow-creatures have the same comfort from food which he hath had? It is so far, therefore, from being a hard law of religion to make this use of our riches, that a reasonable man would rejoice in that religion which teaches him to be happier in that which he gives away than in that which he keeps for himself; which teaches him to make spare food and raiment be great blessings to him than that which feeds and clothes his own body. (ch. xi, 112)

Paul’s argument in 8:1–15 is reasonable because it is based on the reality of the all-satisfying grace of God. The Macedonians are no fools for giving out of their poverty. But neither are they great religious heroes. It is not the Macedonians who are praised in this passage, but the God who brought about their giving by first having given them joy in himself in the midst of their poverty in this world.