slowly learned. Even Christian ministers, who ought to know the mind of
Christ, almost universally, at least in the beginning of their work,
when they preach about evil, lapse into the scolding tone. It is of no
use whatever in the pulpit, and of just as little in the Sunday-school
class, in the home, or in any relation in which we seek to exercise
moral authority. The one basis for that authority is love; and the
characteristic of love in the presence of evil is not that it becomes
angry, or insolent, or disdainful, but that it takes the burden and the
shame of the evil to itself. The hard, proud heart is impotent; the mere
official is impotent, whether he call himself priest or pastor; all hope
and help lie in those who have learned of the Lamb of God who bore the
sin of the world. It is soul-travail like His, attesting love like His;
that wins all the victories in which He can rejoice.
FOOTNOTES:
[12] The R.V. "forbare to come" has the same vagueness as οὐκέτι
ἦλθον, which may mean (1) "I came not as yet"--so A.V.; or (2) "I came
not again"; or (3) "I came no more."
[13] To suppose the reference to be to an epistle carried by Titus and
now lost, is to suppose what is incapable of proof or disproof. To
take ἔγραψα as "epistolary" aorist, and translate "I write," is
grammatically, but only grammatically, possible. The supposed
reference to chaps, x. i-xiii. 10 as a separate epistle is noticed in
the Introduction.
VI
_CHURCH DISCIPLINE_
"But if any hath caused sorrow, he hath caused sorrow, not to me,
but in part (that I press not too heavily) to you all. Sufficient
to such a one is this punishment which was _inflicted_ by the
many; so that contrariwise ye should rather forgive him and
comfort him, lest by any means such a one should be swallowed up
with his overmuch sorrow. Wherefore I beseech you to confirm your
love toward him. For to this end also did I write, that I might
know the proof of you, whether ye are obedient in all things. But
to whom ye forgive anything, I _forgive_ also: for what I also
have forgiven, if I have forgiven anything, for your sakes _have I
forgiven it_ in the person of Christ; that no advantage may be
gained over us by Satan: for we are not ignorant of his
devices."--2 COR. ii. 5-11 (R.V.).
The foregoing paragraph of the Epistle has said a great deal about
sorrow, the sorrow felt by St. Paul on the one hand, and the sorrow he
was reluctant to cause the Corinthians on the other. In the passage
before us reference is evidently made to the person who was ultimately
responsible for all this trouble. If much in it is indefinite to us,
and only leaves a doubtful impression, it was clear enough for those
to whom it was originally addressed; and that very indefiniteness has
its lesson. There are some things to which it is sufficient, and more
than sufficient, to allude; least said is best said. And even when
plain-speaking has been indispensable, a stage arrives at which there
is no more to be gained by it; if the subject _must_ be referred to,
the utmost generality of reference is best. Here the Apostle
discusses the case of a person who had done something extremely bad;
but with the sinner's repentance assured, it is both characteristic
and worthy of him that neither here nor in chap. vii. does he mention
the name either of offender or offence. It is perhaps too much to
expect students of his writings, who wish to trace out in detail all
the events of his life, and to give the utmost possible definiteness
to all its situations, to be content with this obscurity; but students
of his spirit--Christian people reading the Bible for practical
profit--do not need to perplex themselves as to this penitent man's
identity. He may have been the person mentioned in 1 Cor. v. who had
married his stepmother; he may have been some one who had been guilty
of a personal insult to the Apostle: the main point is that he was a
sinner whom the discipline of the Church had saved.[14]
The Apostle had been expressing himself about his sorrow with great
vehemence, and he is careful in his very first words to make it plain
that the offence which had caused such sorrow was no personal matter.
It concerned the Church as well as him. "If any one hath caused
sorrow, he hath not caused sorrow to me, but in part to you all." To
say more than this would be to exaggerate (ἐπιβαρεῖν).[15] The Church,
in point of fact, had not been moved either as universally or as
profoundly as it should have been by the offence of this wicked man.
The penalty imposed upon him, whatever it may have been, had not been
imposed by a unanimous vote, but only by a majority; there were some
who sympathised with him, and would have been less severe.[16] Still,
it had brought conviction of his sin to the offender; he could not
brazen it out against such consenting condemnation as there was; he
was overwhelmed with penitential grief. This is why the Apostle says,
"Sufficient to such a one is this punishment which was inflicted by
the majority." It has served the purpose of all disciplinary
treatment; and having done so, must now be superseded by an opposite
line of action. "Contrariwise ye should rather forgive him and comfort
him, lest by any means such a one should be swallowed up with his
overmuch sorrow." In St. Paul's sentence "such a one" comes last, with
the emphasis of compassion upon it. He had been "such a one," to begin
with, as it was a pain and a shame even to think about; he is "such a
one," now, as the angels in heaven are rejoicing over; "such a one" as
the Apostle, having the spirit of Him who received sinners, regards
with profoundest pity and yearning; "such a one" as the Church ought
to meet with pardoning and restoring love, lest grief sink into
despair, and the sinner cut himself off from hope. To prevent such a
deplorable result, the Corinthians are by some formal action (κυρῶσαι:
cf. Gal. iii. 15) to forgive him, and receive him again as a brother;
and in their forgiveness and welcome he is to find the pledge of the
great love of God.
This whole passage is of interest from the light which it throws upon
the discipline of the Church; or, to use less technical and more
correct language, the Christian treatment of the erring.
It shows us, for one thing, the aim of all discipline: it is, in the
last resort, the restoration of the fallen. The Church has, of course,
an interest of its own to guard; it is bound to protest against all
that is inconsistent with its character; it is bound to expel
scandals. But the Church's protest, its condemnation, its
excommunication even, are not ends in themselves; they are means to
that which is really an end in itself, a priceless good which
justifies every extreme of moral severity, the winning again of the
sinner through repentance. The judgment of the Church is the
instrument of God's love, and the moment it is accepted in the sinful
soul it begins to work as a redemptive force. The humiliation it
inflicts is that which God exalts; the sorrow, that which He comforts.
But when a scandal comes to light in a Christian congregation--when
one of its members is discovered in a fault gross, palpable, and
offensive--what is the significance of that movement of feeling which
inevitably takes place? In how many has it the character of goodness
and of severity, of condemnation and of compassion, of love and fear,
of pity and shame, the only character that has any virtue in it to
tell for the sinner's recovery? If you ask nine people out of ten what
a scandal is, they will tell you it is something which makes talk; and
the talk in nine cases out of ten will be malignant, affected, more
interesting to the talkers than any story of virtue or piety--scandal
itself, in short, far more truly than its theme. Does anybody imagine
that gossip is one of the forces that waken conscience, and work for
the redemption of our fallen brethren? If this is all we can do, in
the name of all that is Christian let us keep silence. Every word
spoken about a brother's sin, that is not prompted by a Christian
conscience, that does not vibrate with the love of a Christian heart,
is itself a sin against the mercy and the judgment of Christ.
We see here not only the end of Church discipline, but the force of
which it disposes for the attainment of its end. That force is neither
more nor less than the conscience of the Christian people who
constitute the Church: discipline is, in principle, the reaction of
that force against all immorality. In special cases, forms may be
necessary for its exercise, and in the forms in which it is exercised
variations may be found expedient, according to time, place, or degree
of moral progress; the congregation as a body, or a representative
committee of it, or its ordained ministers, may be its most suitable
executors; but that on which all alike have to depend for making their
proceedings effective to any Christian intent is the vigour of
Christian conscience, and the intensity of Christian love, in the
community as a whole. Where these are wanting, or exist only in an
insignificant degree, disciplinary proceedings are reduced to a mere
form; they are legal, not evangelical; and to be legal in such matters
is not only hypocritical, but insolent. Instead of rendering a real
Christian service to offenders, which by awakening conscience will
lead to penitence and restoration, discipline under such conditions is
equally cruel and unjust.
It is plain also, from the nature of the force which it employs, that
discipline is a function of the Church which is in incessant exercise,
and is not called into action only on special occasions. To limit it
to what are technically known as cases of discipline--the formal
treatment of offenders by a Church court, or by any person or persons
acting in an official character--is to ignore its real nature, and to
give its exercise in these cases a significance to which it has no
claim. The offences against the Christian standard which can be
legally impeached even in Church courts are not one in ten thousand of
those against which the Christian conscience ought energetically to
protest; and it is the vigour with which the ceaseless reaction
against evil in every shape is instinctively maintained which measures
the effectiveness of all formal proceedings, and makes them means of
grace to the guilty. The officials of a Church may deal in their
official place with offences against soberness, purity, or honesty;
they are bound to deal with them, whether they like it or not; but
their success will depend upon the completeness with which they, and
those whom they represent, have renounced not only the vices which
they are judging, but all that is out of keeping with the mind and
spirit of Christ. The drunkard, the sensualist, the thief, know
perfectly well that drunkenness, sensuality, and theft are not the
only sins which mar the soul. They know that there are other vices,
just as real if not so glaring, which are equally fatal to the life of
Christ in man, and as completely disqualify men for acting in Christ's
name. They are conscious that it is not a _bona fide_ transaction when
their sins are impeached by men whose consciences endure with
equanimity the reign of meanness, duplicity, pride, hypocrisy,
self-complacency. They are aware that God is not present where these
are dominant, and that God's power to judge and save can never come
through such channels. Hence the exercise of discipline in these legal
forms is often resented, and often ineffective; and instead of
complaining about what is obviously inevitable, the one thing at which
all should aim who wish to protect the Church from scandals is to
cultivate the common conscience, and bring it to such a degree of
purity and vigour, that its spontaneous resentment of evil will enable
the Church practically to dispense with legal forms. This Christian
community at Corinth had a thousand faults; in many points we are
tempted to find in it rather a warning than an example; but I think we
may take this as a signal proof that it was really sound at heart: its
condemnation of this guilty man fell upon his conscience as the
sentence of God, and brought him in tears to the feet of Christ. No
legal proceedings could have done that: nothing could have done it but
a real and passionate sympathy with the holiness and the love of
Christ. Such sympathy is the one subduing, reconciling, redeeming
power in our hands; and Paul might well rejoice, after all his
affliction and anguish of heart, when he found it so unmistakably at
work in Corinth. Not so much formal as instinctive, though not
shrinking on occasion from formal proceedings; not malignant, yet
closing itself inexorably against evil; not indulgent to badness, but
with goodness like Christ's, waiting to be gracious,--this Christian
virtue really holds the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and opens and
shuts with the authority of Christ Himself. We need it in all our
Churches to-day, as much as it was needed in Corinth; we need it that
special acts of discipline may be effective; we need it still more
that they may be unnecessary. Pray for it as for a gift that
comprehends every other--the power to represent Christ, and work His
work, in the recovery and restoration of the fallen.
In vv. 9-11, the same subject is continued, but with a slightly
different aspect exposed. Paul had obviously taken the initiative in
this matter, though the bulk of the Church, at his prompting, had
acted in a right spirit. Their conduct was in harmony with his motive
in writing to them,[17] which had really been to make proof of their
obedience in all points. But he has already disclaimed either the
right or the wish to lord it over them in their liberty as believers;
and here, again, he represents himself rather as following them in
their treatment of the offender, than as pointing out the way. "Now to
whom ye forgive anything, I also forgive"--so great is my confidence
in you: "for what I also have forgiven, if I have forgiven anything,
for your sakes have I forgiven it in the presence of Christ." When he
says "if I _have_ forgiven anything," he does not mean that his
forgiveness is dubious, or in suspense; what he does is to deprecate
the thought that his forgiveness is the main thing, or that he had
been the person principally offended. When he says "_for your sakes_
have I forgiven it," the words are explained by what follows: to have
refused his forgiveness in the circumstances would have been to
perpetuate a state of matters which could only have injured the
Church. When he adds that his forgiveness is bestowed "in the presence
of Christ," he gives the assurance that it is no complaisance or
formality, but a real acceptance of the offender to peace and
friendship again.[18] And we should not overlook the fact that in this
association of Christ, of the Corinthians, and of himself, in the work
of forgiveness and restoration, Paul is really encompassing a
desponding soul with all the grace of earth and heaven. Surely he will
not let his grief become despair, when all around him and above him
there is a present and convincing witness that, though God is
intolerant of sin, He is the refuge of the penitent.
The gracious and conciliatory tone of these verses seems to me worthy of
special admiration; and I can only express my astonishment that to some
they have appeared insincere, a vain attempt to cover a defeat with the
semblance of victory, a surrender to the opposition at Corinth, the
painfulness of which is ill-disguised by the pretence of agreement with
them. The exposition just given renders the refutation of such a view
unnecessary. We ought rather to regard with reverence and affection the
man who knew how to combine, so strikingly, unflinching principle and
the deepest tenderness and consideration for others; we ought to propose
his modesty, his sensitiveness to the feelings even of opponents, his
sympathy with those who had no sympathy with him, as examples for our
imitation. Paul had been deeply moved by what had taken place at
Corinth, possibly he had been deeply injured; but even so his personal
interest is kept in the background; for the obedient loyalty which he
wishes to prove is not so much _his_ interest as theirs to whom he
writes. He cares only for others. He cares for the poor soul who has
forfeited his place in the community; he cares for the good name of the
Church; he cares for the honour of Jesus Christ; and he exerts all his
power with these interests in view. If it needs rigour, he can be
rigorous; if it needs passion, he can be passionate; if it needs
consideration, graciousness, a conciliatory temper, a willingness to
keep out of sight, he can be depended upon for all these virtues. If
they were only affected, Paul would deserve the praise of a great
diplomatist; but it is far easier to believe them real, and see in them
the signs of a great minister of Christ.
The last verse puts the aim of his proceedings in another light: all
this, he says, I do, "that no advantage may be gained over us by
Satan: for we are not ignorant of his devices." The important words in
the last clause are of the same root; it is as if Paul had said:
"Satan is very knowing, and is always on the alert to get the better
of us; but we are not without knowledge of his knowing ways." It was
the Apostle's acquaintance with the wiles of the devil which made him
eager to see the restoration of the penitent sinner duly carried
through. This implies one or two practical truths, with which, by way
of application, this exposition may close.
(1) A scandal in the Church gives the devil an opportunity. When one
who has named the name of Jesus, and vowed loyal obedience to Him,
falls into open sin, it is a chance offered to the enemy which he is
not slow to improve. He uses it to discredit the very name of Christ:
to turn that which ought to be to the world the symbol of the purest
goodness into a synonym of hypocrisy. Christ has committed His honour,
if not His character, to our keeping; and every lapse into vice gives
Satan an advantage over Him.
(2) The devil finds his gain in the incompetence of the Church to deal
with evil in the Spirit of Christ. It is a fine thing for him if he
can drive the convicted sinner to despair, and persuade him that there
is no more forgiveness with God. It is a fine thing if he can prompt
those who love little, because they know little of God's love, to show
themselves rigid, implacable, irreconcilable, even to the penitent. If
he can deform the likeness of Christ into a morose Pharisaism, what an
incalculable gain it is! If the disciples of Him who received sinners
look askance on those who have lapsed, and chill the hope of
restoration with cold suspicion and reserve, there will be joy over
it, not in heaven, but in hell. And not only this, but the opposite is
a device of the devil, of which we ought not to be ignorant. There is
hardly a sin that some one has not an interest in extenuating. Even
the incestuous person in Corinth had his defenders: there were some
who were puffed up, and gloried in what he had done as an assertion of
Christian liberty. The devil takes advantage of the scandals that
occur in the Church to bribe and debauch men's consciences; indulgent
words are spoken, which are not the voice of Christ's awful mercy, but
of a miserable self-pity; the strongest and holiest thing in the
world, the redeeming love of God, is adulterated and even confounded
with the weakest and basest thing, the bad man's immoral forgiveness
of himself. And not to mention anything else under this head, could
any one imagine what would please and suit the devil better than the
absolutely unfeeling but extremely interesting gossip which resounds
over every exposure of sin?
(3) But, lastly, the devil finds his advantage in the dissensions of
Christians. What an opportunity he would have had in Corinth, had
strained relations continued between the Apostle and the Church! What
opportunities he has everywhere, when tempers are on edge, and every
movement means friction, and every proposal rouses suspicion! The last
prayer Christ prayed for His Church was that they might all be one: to
be one in Him is the final security against the devices of Satan. What
a frightful commentary the history of the Church is on this prayer!
What frightful illustrations it furnishes of the devil's gain out of
the saints' quarrels! There are plenty of subjects, of course, even in
Church life, on which we may naturally and legitimately differ; but we
ought to know better than to let the differences enter into our souls.
At bottom, we should be all one; it is giving ourselves away to the
enemy, if we do not, at all costs, "keep the unity of the Spirit in
the bond of peace."
FOOTNOTES:
[14] On the identity of the person referred to, see Introduction, p. 2
f.
[15] This meaning of ἐπιβαρεῖν, taken as intransitive, is rather
vague, but I believe substantially correct. If the word is to be taken
as virtually transitive, the object must be the partisans of the
offender. It would "bear hardly" on them, to assume that _they_ had
been grieved by what Paul considered an offence. They had not been
grieved. That is why he excludes them from πάντας ὑμᾶς by ἀπὸ μέρους.
[16] This suits with either idea as to the identity of the man. (1) If
he were the incestuous person of 1 Cor. v., the minority would consist
of those who abused the Christian idea of liberty, and were "puffed
up" (1 Cor. v. 2) over this sin as an illustration of it. (2) If he
were one who had personally insulted Paul, the minority would probably
consist of the Judaistic opponents of the Apostle.
[17] This is the force of the καὶ before ἔγραψα in ver. 9.
[18] In spite of the Vulgate, which has _in persona Christi_; of
Luther, who gives _an Christi Statt_; and of the English versions,
Authorised and Revised, which both give "in the person of Christ"
(though the R.V. puts _presence_ in the margin), there seems no room
to doubt that "in the presence of Christ" is the true meaning. The
same words in chap. iv, 6 are admittedly different in import; and in
the only passages where ἐν προσώπῳ occurs with a genitive, it means
"in presence of." These are Prov. viii. 30, where ἐν προσώπῳ αὐτοῦ is
= לפניו; and Sir. xxxii. 6, where "Thou shalt not appear _before the
Lord_ empty" is ἐν π. Κυρίου.
VII
_CHRIST'S CAPTIVE_
"Now when I came to Troas for the Gospel of Christ, and when a
door was opened unto me in the Lord, I had no relief for my
spirit, because I found not Titus my brother: but taking my leave
of them, I went forth into Macedonia. But thanks be unto God,
which always leadeth us in triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest
through us the savour of His knowledge in every place. For we are
a sweet savour of Christ unto God, in them that are being saved,
and in them that are perishing; to the one a savour from death
unto death; to the other a savour from life unto life. And who is
sufficient for these things? For we are not as the many,
corrupting the Word of God: but as of sincerity, but as of God, in
the sight of God, speak we in Christ."--2 COR. ii. 12-17 (R.V.).
In this passage the Apostle returns from what is virtually, if not
formally, a digression, to the narrative which begins in chap. i. 8
f., and is continued in i. 15 f. At the same time he makes a
transition to a new subject, really though not very explicitly
connected with what goes before--namely, his independent and divinely
granted authority as an apostle. In the last verses of chap, ii., and
in chap. iii. 1-4, this is treated generally, but with reference in
particular to the success of his ministry. He then goes on to contrast
the older and the Christian dispensation, and the character of their
respective ministries, and terminates the section with a noble
statement of the spirit and principles with which he fulfilled his
apostolic calling (chap. iv. 1-6).