Commentary - 2 Corinthians 11:1-6

Bird's-eye view

In this section, the Apostle Paul, with a heavy heart and a sharp pen, begins his "fool's speech." He is forced to defend his apostolic credentials against the slick, sophisticated, and ultimately satanic "super-apostles" who had infiltrated the Corinthian church. Paul's central concern is not his own reputation for its own sake, but rather the purity of the church's devotion to Christ. He frames his relationship with the Corinthians in the most intimate of terms: he is like a father who has betrothed his daughter, the church, to one husband, Jesus Christ. His fear is that these false teachers, like the serpent in the garden, will corrupt their minds and lead them away from the simple, pure-hearted love they ought to have for their Savior. He confronts their tolerance for a different Jesus, a different spirit, and a different gospel, asserting that his own ministry, though perhaps lacking in worldly polish, is in no way inferior in its substance and knowledge of the truth.

This passage is a powerful reminder that theological and spiritual fidelity are paramount. The church is always in danger of being seduced by teachers who are more impressive in their presentation than they are faithful in their proclamation. Paul's "godly jealousy" is the model for all true pastoral care, which is fiercely protective of the flock's exclusive loyalty to Jesus Christ. The battle here is not over personalities but over the very identity of Jesus and the nature of the gospel itself.

Outline

Context In 2 Corinthians

Second Corinthians is arguably Paul's most personal and emotional letter. The church at Corinth was a troubled one, and after his first letter, the situation had deteriorated in some ways. False teachers, whom Paul sarcastically dubs "super-apostles," had arrived, challenging Paul's authority and preaching a different gospel. They were impressive speakers, likely Judaizers who boasted in their Jewish heritage and demanded payment for their "superior" wisdom. In response, Paul had made a "painful visit" and sent a "severe letter" (which is now lost). Our 2 Corinthians is written after Titus brings good news of the church's repentance, but a hostile minority remains. Chapters 10-13 are a vigorous, sometimes sarcastic, and deeply passionate defense of his ministry. This section (11:1-6) kicks off the heart of that defense, where Paul reluctantly adopts the world's method of boasting in order to expose the foolishness of his opponents' criteria and to win back the full affections of the Corinthian believers for Christ.

Key Issues

The Jealousy of a Father

We live in a therapeutic age that views jealousy as an entirely negative and petty emotion. But the Bible speaks of two kinds of jealousy. There is the sinful jealousy of envy, which wants what someone else has. Then there is the righteous jealousy which is zealous to protect a relationship of exclusive love and honor. A husband who is not jealous when another man attempts to seduce his wife is not a virtuous man; he is a coward who does not love his wife. God Himself is a jealous God (Ex. 20:5), not because He is insecure, but because He is worthy of all worship and will not share His glory with idols.

Paul's jealousy here is of that second kind. It is a "godly jealousy." He is not acting out of wounded pride or personal insecurity. He is acting as the authorized agent of the bridegroom, Jesus Christ. He, as their spiritual father, "gave them away" in marriage to Christ when he first preached the gospel to them. Now, interlopers have come, trying to woo the bride away from her true husband. Paul's fierce, protective love is not for himself, but for the honor of the bridegroom and the purity of the bride. Every faithful pastor should feel this same holy fire when false teaching threatens to compromise the church's exclusive devotion to her Lord.

Verse by Verse Commentary

1 I wish that you would bear with me in a little foolishness, but indeed you are bearing with me.

Paul begins this section with a heavy dose of irony. He knows that boasting in one's own accomplishments is, from a Christian perspective, utter foolishness. Our only proper boast is in the cross of Christ. But the Corinthians have been taken in by the self-promoting bluster of the false apostles, so Paul says, in effect, "Alright, you want a boasting contest? You want to hear credentials? I'll play your foolish game for a moment, but only to show you how foolish it is." He knows this is not the high road of Christian discourse, but he is willing to stoop to this level to rescue them. The phrase "but indeed you are bearing with me" is a bit of a backhanded compliment. It means, "You are already putting up with me," but it also implies, "You put up with the foolishness of those other charlatans beautifully, so you can surely extend me the same courtesy."

2 For I am jealous for you with a godly jealousy, for I betrothed you to one husband, so that I might present you as a pure virgin to Christ.

Here is the heart of the matter, the motivation for his "foolishness." His passion is a godly jealousy. It is a jealousy that mirrors God's own zeal for the covenant purity of His people. Paul uses the powerful metaphor of marriage. As their founding apostle, he acted as the father of the bride, the Corinthian church. He arranged the marriage and formally betrothed them to their one, true husband: Jesus Christ. The goal of this betrothal is that on the final day, the great wedding day of the Lamb, he might be able to present them to Christ as a pure virgin, chaste and undefiled by spiritual adultery. This imagery is deeply rooted in the Old Testament, where Israel is often portrayed as the bride of Yahweh. To turn to other gods was to commit adultery. For the Corinthians to turn to false apostles with a false gospel was to be unfaithful to their heavenly husband.

3 But I fear that, as the serpent deceived Eve by his craftiness, your minds will be corrupted from the simplicity and purity of devotion to Christ.

Paul's fear is specific and grounded in the foundational story of the fall. He sees a direct parallel between the strategy of the serpent in the garden and the strategy of the false apostles in Corinth. The serpent did not attack Eve with brute force; he used craftiness. He was subtle. He twisted God's words, questioned God's goodness, and offered a counterfeit wisdom. In the same way, these false teachers were corrupting the Corinthians' minds. The word for "corrupted" can also mean "seduced" or "defiled," carrying on the bridal imagery. And what were they being seduced away from? The simplicity and purity of devotion to Christ. The gospel is profound, but it is not complicated. It is about trusting and loving Jesus. The false apostles were replacing this simple devotion with a complex, flashy, and ultimately corrupting system. True Christianity is a simple, beautiful thing; false religion always clutters it up.

4 For if one comes and preaches another Jesus whom we did not preach, or you receive a different spirit which you did not receive, or a different gospel which you did not accept, you bear this beautifully.

This verse drips with holy sarcasm. Paul lays out the essence of the false teachers' message. It was a counterfeit trinity: another Jesus, a different spirit, a different gospel. This "other Jesus" was not the crucified and risen Lord who saves by grace alone, but likely a more palatable, less offensive Jesus who served as a moral example or a secret-knowledge-giver that catered to their pride. This "different spirit" was not the Holy Spirit who convicts of sin and glorifies Christ, but a spirit of arrogance, division, and worldly wisdom. This "different gospel" was not the good news of God's free grace in Christ, but a gospel of works, of esoteric knowledge, or of personal boasting. And how did the Corinthians respond to this wholesale betrayal of the faith? "You bear this beautifully," Paul says. You tolerate it with remarkable patience. This is not a compliment. Their open-mindedness was not a virtue; it was a catastrophic failure of discernment, a spiritual treason.

5 For I consider myself in no way inferior to the most-eminent apostles.

Here Paul makes his claim directly, though still sarcastically. The phrase most-eminent apostles (or "super-apostles") is Paul's mocking title for his opponents. He is not referring to the twelve apostles in Jerusalem. He is referring to the arrogant intruders in Corinth. He says that when it comes to the things that truly matter, a commission from the risen Christ, a true knowledge of the gospel, a ministry confirmed by God's power, he does not take a back seat to any of them. He is not one whit behind them. This is not arrogant pride; it is a statement of fact necessary to defend the gospel he preached.

6 But even if I am unskilled in word, yet I am not so in knowledge; in fact, in every way we have made this evident to you in all things.

Paul concedes a point to his critics, but only to turn it back on them. It was likely true that he was not the polished orator that these other teachers were. They probably accused him of being a poor speaker, rough around the edges (unskilled in word). Paul grants the premise for the sake of argument. "Fine," he says, "perhaps I'm not a smooth talker like them." But he immediately counters with the thing that actually matters: yet I am not so in knowledge. In terms of the substance, the content, the deep knowledge of God's redemptive plan in Christ, he is second to none. Rhetorical flair is nothing compared to theological truth. And he reminds them that this is not a new claim. He says, "in every way we have made this evident to you." They had seen the truth of his knowledge in his preaching, his teaching, and in the very founding of their church. They had no excuse for being duped by eloquent ignorance.

Application

This passage is a bucket of ice water for the modern church, which is often far too much like the Corinthian church. We are easily impressed by the slick, the sophisticated, and the successful. We are tempted to trade the simplicity of devotion to Christ for something more complicated, more culturally relevant, or more emotionally stimulating. We are often guilty of the "beautiful" tolerance that Paul condemns, a tolerance for "another Jesus" who is more of a life coach than a Lord, a "different spirit" that is more about self-esteem than sanctification, and a "different gospel" that is more about our best life now than about being saved from the wrath to come.

We must recover Paul's godly jealousy. Pastors must be watchmen on the wall, fiercely protective of the true gospel and the true Christ. Congregations must learn to value substance over style, and knowledge over polish. Does a preacher have a deep, robust, biblical understanding of the faith? Or is he just a good communicator with a charming personality? The serpent is still crafty, and his emissaries still come disguised as apostles of Christ. Our only defense is to be so thoroughly captivated by the real Jesus that we can spot a counterfeit a mile away. We must cling to the simplicity that is in Christ: He died for our sins, He was raised for our justification, and He alone is our life. Anything that complicates, adds to, or subtracts from that glorious simplicity is a corruption to be rejected with every fiber of our being.