If he had to make his choice, it would incline this way, rather than the

other; but it is not his to make a choice, and so he does not express

himself unconditionally. The whole tone of the passage anticipates that

of Phil. i. 21 ff.: "For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.

But if to live in the flesh,--_if_ this is the fruit of my work, then

what I shall choose I wot not. But I am in a strait betwixt the two,

having the desire to depart and to be with Christ; for it is very far

better: yet to abide in the flesh is more needful for your sake."

Nothing could be less like the Apostle than a monkish, unmanly wish to

die. He exulted in his calling. It was a joy to him above all joys to

speak to men of the love of God in Jesus Christ. But nothing, on the

other hand, could be less like him than to lose sight of the future in

the present, and to forget amid the service of men the glory which is to

be revealed. He stood between two worlds; he felt the whole attraction

of both; in the earnest of the Spirit he knew that he had an inheritance

there as well as here. It is this consciousness of the dimensions of

life that makes him so immensely interesting; he never wrote a dull

word; his soul was stirred incessantly by impulses from earth and from

heaven, swept by breezes from the dark and troubled sea of man's life,

touched by inspirations from the radiant heights where Christ dwelt. We

do not need to be afraid of the reproach of "other worldliness" if we

seek to live in this same spirit; the reproach is as false as it is

threadbare. It would be an incalculable gain if we could recover the

primitive hope in something like its primitive strength. It would not

make us false to our duties in the world, but it would give us the

victory over the world.

In bringing this subject to a close, the Apostle strikes a graver

note. A certain moral, as well as a certain emotional temper, is

evoked by the Christian hope. It fills men with courage, and with

spiritual yearnings; it braces them also to moral earnestness and

vigour. "Wherefore also we make it our aim"--literally, we are

ambitious, the only lawful ambition--"whether at home or absent, to be

well-pleasing unto Him." Modes of being are not of so much

consequence. It may agree with a man's feelings better to live till

Christ comes, or to die before He comes, and go at once to be with

Him; but the main thing is, in whatever mode of being, to be accepted

in His sight. "For we must all be manifested before the judgment-seat

of Christ, that each one may receive the things done in the body,

according to what he hath done, whether it be good or bad." The

Christian hope is not clouded by the judgment-seat of Christ; it is

sustained at the holy height which befits it. We are forbidden to

count upon it lightly. "Every man," we are reminded, "that hath this

hope set on Him purifieth himself even as He is pure." It is not

necessary for us to seek a formal reconciliation of this verse with

Paul's teaching that the faithful are accepted in Christ Jesus; we can

feel that both must be true. And if the doctrine of justification

freely, by God's grace, is that which has to be preached to sinful

men, the doctrine of exact retribution, taught in this passage, has

its main interest and importance for Christians. It is Christians only

who are in view here, and the law of requital is so exact that every

one is said to get back, to carry on for himself, the very things done

in the body. In this world, we have not seen the last of anything. We

shall all be manifested before the judgment-seat of Christ; all that

we have hidden shall be revealed. The books are shut now, but they

will be opened then. The things we have done in the body will come

back to us, whether good or bad. Every pious thought, and every

thought of sin; every secret prayer, and every secret curse; every

unknown deed of charity, and every hidden deed of selfishness: we will

see them all again, and though we have not remembered them for years,

and perhaps have forgotten them altogether, we shall have to

acknowledge that they are our own, and take them to ourselves. Is not

that a solemn thing to stand at the end of life? Is it not a true

thing? Even those who can say with the Apostle, "Being justified by

faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, and

rejoice in hope of His glory," know how true it is. Nay, they most of

all know, for they understand better than others the holiness of God,

and they are especially addressed here. The moral consciousness is not

maintained in its vigour and integrity if this doctrine of retribution

disappears; and if we are called by a passage like this to encourage

ourselves in the Lord, and in the hope which He has revealed, we are

warned also that evil cannot dwell with God, and that He will by no

means clear the guilty.

FOOTNOTES:

[43] The true rendering here is that in the margin of the R.V.

[44] This translation is Schmiedel's. For the use of διὰ cf. Rev. xxi.

24: Καὶ περιπατήσουσιν τὰ ἔθνη διὰ τοῦ φωτὸς αὐτης. It cannot mean

"by" faith, in the sense of "according to" faith, or as faith directs.

Nor can it be proved that εῖδος ever means "sight."

XIV

_THE MEASURE OF CHRIST'S LOVE_

"Knowing therefore the fear of the Lord, we persuade men, but we are

made manifest unto God; and I hope that we are made manliest also in

your consciences. We are not again commending ourselves unto you,

but _speak_ as giving you occasion of glorying on our behalf, that

ye may have wherewith to answer them that glory in appearance and

not in heart. For whether we are beside ourselves, it is unto God;

or whether we are of sober mind, it is unto you. For the love of

Christ constraineth us; because we thus judge, that One died for

all, therefore all died; and He died for all, that they which live

should no longer live unto themselves, but unto Him who for their

sakes died and rose again."--2 COR. v. 11-15 (R.V.).

The Christian hope of immortality is elevated and solemnised by the

thought of the judgment-seat of Christ. This is no strange thought to

St. Paul; many a time he has set himself in imagination in that great

presence, and let the awe of it descend upon his heart. This is what

he means when he writes, "Knowing the fear of the Lord." Like the

pastors addressed in the Epistle to the Hebrews, he exercises his

office as one who must render an account. In this spirit, he says, he

persuades men. A motive so high, and so stern in its purifying power,

no minister of Christ can afford to dispense with. We need something

to suppress self-seeking, to keep conscience vigorous, to preserve the

message of reconciliation itself from degenerating into good-natured

indifference, to prohibit immoral compromises and superficial healing

of the soul's hurts. Let us familiarise our minds, by meditation, with

the fear due to Christ the judge, and a new element of power will

enter into our service, making it at once more urgent and more

wholesome than it could otherwise be.

The meaning of the words "we persuade men" is not at once clear.

Interpreters generally find in them a combination of two ideas--we try

to win men for the Gospel, and we try to convince them of our own

purity of motive in our evangelistic work. The word is suitable enough

to express either idea; and though it is straining it to make it carry

both, the first is suggested by the general tenor of the passage, and

the second seems to be demanded by what follows. "We try to convince

men of our disinterestedness, but we do not need to try to convince

God; we have been manifested to Him already;[45] and we trust also

that we have been manifested in your consciences." Paul was well aware

of the hostility with which he was regarded by some of the

Corinthians, but he is confident that, when his appeal is tried in the

proper court, decision must be given in his favour, and he hopes that

this has really been done at Corinth. Often we do not give people in

his position the benefit of a fair trial. It is not in our consciences

they are arraigned--_i.e._, in God's sight, and according to God's

law--but at the bar of our prejudices, our likes and dislikes,

sometimes even our whims and caprices. It is not their _character_

which is taken into account, but something quite irrelevant to

character. Paul did not care for such estimates as these. It was

nothing to him whether his appearance made a favourable impression on

those who heard him--whether they liked his voice, his gestures, his

manners, or even his message. What he did care for was to be able to

appeal to their consciences, as he could appeal to God, to whom all

things were naked and opened, that in the discharge of his functions

as an evangelist he had been absolutely simple and sincere. In

speaking thus, he has no intention of again recommending himself.

Rather, as he says with a touch of irony, it is for their convenience

he writes; he is giving them occasion to boast on his behalf, that

when they encounter people who boast in face and not in heart they may

not be speechless, but may have something to say for themselves--and

for him. It is easy to read between the lines here. The Corinthians

had persons among them--Jewish and Judaising teachers evidently--who

boasted "in face"; in other words, who prided themselves on outward

and visible distinctions, though as Paul asserts, they had nothing

within to be proud of. There are suggestions of these distinctions

elsewhere, and we can imagine the claims men made, the airs they gave

themselves, or at least the recognition they consented to accept, on

the ground of them. Their eloquence, their knowledge of the

Scriptures, their Jewish descent, their acquaintance with the Twelve,

above all acquaintance with Jesus Himself--these were their

credentials, and of these their followers made much. Perhaps even on

their own ground Paul could have met and routed most of them, but

meanwhile he leaves them in undisturbed possession of their

advantages, such as they are. He only sums up these advantages in the

disparaging word "face," or "appearance"; they are all on the outside;

they amount to "a fair show in the flesh," but no more. He would not

like if _his_ disciples could make no better boast of their master,

and all the high things he has written, from chap. ii. 14 on to chap.

v. 10, especially his vindication of the absolute purity of his

motives, furnish them, if they choose to take it so, with grounds of

counter-boasting, far deeper and more spiritual than those of his

adversaries. For _he_ boasts, not "in appearance, but in heart." The

ironical tone in this is unmistakable, yet it is not merely ironical.

From the beginning of Christianity to this day, Churches have gathered

round men, and made their boast in them. Too often it has been a boast

"in face," and not "in heart"--in gifts, accomplishments, and

distinctions, which may have given an outward splendour to the

individual, but which were entirely irrelevant to the possession of

the Christian spirit. Often even the imperfections of the natural man

have been gloried in, simply because they were his; and the Lutheran

and Calvinistic Churches, for example, owe some of their most

distinctive features to an exaggerated appreciation of those very

characteristics of Luther and Calvin which had no Christian value. The

same thing is seen every day, on a smaller scale, in congregations.

People are proud of their minister, not for what he is in heart, but

because he is more learned, more eloquent, more naturally capable,

than other preachers in the same town. It is a pity when ministers

themselves, like the Judaists in Corinth, are content to have it so.

The true evangelist or pastor will choose rather, with St. Paul, to be

taken for what he is as a Christian, and for nothing else; and if he

_must_ be spoken about, he will be spoken of in this character, and in

no other. Nay, if it really comes to glorying "in face," he will glory

in his weaknesses and incapacities; he will magnify the very

earthenness of the earthen vessel, the very coarseness of the clay, as

a foil to the power and life of Christ which dwell in it.

The connexion of ver. 13 with what precedes is very obscure. Perhaps

as fair a paraphrase as any would run thus: "And well may you boast of

our complete sincerity; for whether we are beside ourselves, it is to

God; or whether we are of sober mind, it is unto you; that is, in no

case is self-interest the motive or rule of our conduct." Connexion

apart, there is a further difficulty about εἴτε ἐξέστημεν. The Revised

Version renders it "whether we _are_ beside ourselves," but in the

margin gives "_were_" for "are." It makes a very great difference

which tense we accept. If the proper meaning is given by "are," the

application must be to some constant characteristic of the Apostle s

ministry. His enthusiasm, his absolute superiority to common selfish

considerations such as are ordinarily supreme in human life, his

resolute assertion of truths lying beyond the reach of sense, the

unearthly flame which burned unceasingly in his bosom, and never more

brightly than when he wrote the fourth and fifth chapters of the

Second Epistle to the Corinthians--all these constitute the temper

which is described as being "beside oneself," a kind of sacred

madness. It was in this sense that the accusation of being beside

himself was brought on a memorable occasion against Jesus (Mark iii.

21, ἐξέστη). The disciple and the Master alike seemed to those who did

not understand them to be in an overstrained, too highly wrought

condition of spirit; in the ardour of their devotion they allowed

themselves to be carried beyond all natural limits, and it was not

improper to speak of applying some kindly restraint. At first sight

this interpretation seems very appropriate, and I do not think that

the tense of ἐξέστημεν is decisive against it.[46] Those who think it

is point to the change to the present tense in the next clause, εἴτε

σωφρονοῦμεν, and allege that this would have no motive unless

ἐξέστημεν were a true past. But this may be doubted. On the one hand,

ἐξέστη in Mark iii. 21 can hardly mean anything but "He is beside

Himself"--_i.e._, it is virtually a present; on the other, the

grammatical present ἐξιστάμεθα would not unambiguously convey the idea

of madness, and would therefore be inappropriate here. But assuming

that the change of tense has the effect of making ἐξέστημεν a real

past, and that the proper rendering is "whether we _were_ beside

ourselves," what is the application then? We must suppose that some

definite occasion is before the Apostle and his readers, on which he

had been in an ecstasy (cf. ἐν ἐκστάσει, Acts xi. 5; ἐγένετο ἐπ' αὐτὸν

ἔκστασις, Acts X. 10), and that his opponents availed themselves of

this experience, in which he had passed, for a time, out of his own

control, to whisper the malicious accusation that he had once not been

quite right in his mind, and that this explained much. The Apostle, we

should have to assume, admits the fact alleged, but protests against

the inference drawn from it, and the use made of the inference. "I

_was_ beside myself," he says; "but it was an experience which had

nothing to do with my ministry; it was between God and my solitary

self; and to drag it into my relations with you is a mere

impertinence." That the "ecstasis" in question was his vision of Jesus

on the way to Damascus, and that his adversaries sought to discredit

that, and the apostleship of Paul as grounded on that, is one of the

extravagances of an irresponsible criticism. Of all experiences that

ever befell him, his conversion is the very one which was _not_ solely

his own affair and God's, but the affair of the whole Church; and

whereas he speaks of his ecstasies and visions with evident reluctance

and embarrassment, as in chap. xii. 1 ff., or refuses to speak of them

at all, as here (assuming this interpretation to be the true one), he

makes his conversion and the appearance of the Lord the very

foundation of his preaching, and treats of both with the utmost

frankness. It must be something quite different from this--something

analogous perhaps to me speaking with tongues, in which "the

understanding was unfruitful," but for which Paul was distinguished (1

Cor. xiv. 14-18)--that is intended here. Such rapt conditions are

certainly open to misinterpretation; and as their spiritual value is

merely personal, Paul declines to discuss any allusion to them, as if

it affected his relation to the Corinthians.

The strongest point in favour of this interpretation seems to me not

the tense of ἐξέστημεν, but the use of Θεῷ: "it is unto God." If the

meaning were the one first suggested, and the madness were the holy

enthusiasm of the Evangelist, that would be distinctly a thing which

did concern the Corinthians, and it would not be natural to withdraw

it from their censure as God's affair. Nevertheless, one can conceive

Paul saying that he was answerable for his extravagances, not to them,

but to his Master; and that his sober-mindedness, at all events, had

their interests in view. On a survey of the whole case, and especially

with Mark iii. 21, and the New Testament use of the verb ἐξίσταμαι

before us, I incline to think that the text of the Revised Version is

to be preferred to the margin. The "being beside himself" with which

Paul was charged will not, then, be an isolated incident in his

career--an incident which Jewish teachers, remembering the ecstasies

of Peter and John, could hardly object to--but the spiritual tension

in which he habitually lived and wrought. The language, so far as I

can judge, admits of this interpretation, and it brings the Apostle's

experience into line, not only with that of his Master, but with that

of many who have succeeded him. But how great and rare is the

self-conquest of the man who can say that in his enthusiasm and his

sobriety alike--when he is beside himself, and when his spirit is

wholly subject to him--the one thing which never intrudes, or troubles

his singleness of mind, is the thought of his own private ends.

In the verses which follow, Paul lets us into the secret of this

unselfishness, this freedom from by-ends and ambition: "For the love of

Christ constraineth us; because we thus judge, that One died for all,

therefore all [of them] died." "Constraineth" is one of the most

expressive words in the New Testament; the love of Christ has hold of

the Apostle on both sides, as it were, and urges him on in a course

which he cannot avoid. It has him in its grasp, and he has no choice,

under its irresistible constraint, but to be what he is, and to do what

he does, whether men think him in his mind or out of his mind. That the

love of Christ means Christ's love to us, and not our love to Him, is

shown by the fact that Paul goes on at once to describe in what it

consists. "It constrains us," he says, "because we have come to this

mind about it: One died for all; so then all died." Here, we may say, is

the content of Christ's love, the essence of it, that which gives it

its soul-subduing and constraining power: He loved us, _and gave Himself

for us_; He died for all, _and in that death of His all died_.

It may seem a hazardous thing to give a definition of love, and

especially to shut up within the boundaries of a human conception that

love of Christ which passes knowledge. But the intelligence must get

hold somehow even of things inconceivably great, and the New Testament

writers, with all their diversity of spiritual gifts, are at one as to

what is essential here. They all find Christ's love concentrated and

focussed in His death. They all find it there inasmuch as that death

was a death _for us_. Perhaps St. Paul and St. John penetrated

further, intellectually, than any of the others into the mystery of

this "for"; but if we cannot give it a natural interpretation, and an

interpretation in which an absolutely irresistible constraint is

hidden for heart and will, we do not know what the Apostles meant when

they spoke of Christ's love. There has been much discussion about the

"for" in this place. It is ὑπέρ, not ἀντί, and many render it simply

"on our behalf," or "for our advantage." That Christ did die for our

advantage is not to be questioned. Neither is it to be questioned that

this is a fair rendering of ὑπέρ. But what _does_ raise question is

whether this interpretation of the "for" supplies sufficient ground

for the immediate inference of the Apostle "so then all died." Is it

logical to say, "One died for the benefit of all: _hence_ all died"?

From that premiss is not the only legitimate conclusion "hence all

remained alive"? Plainly, if _Paul's_ conclusion is to be drawn, the

"for" must reach deeper than this mere suggestion of our advantage: if

we all _died_, in that Christ died _for_ us, there must be a sense in

which that death of His is _ours_; He must be identified with _us_ in

it: there, on the cross, while we stand and gaze at Him, He is not

simply a person doing us a service; He is a person doing us a service

_by filling our place and dying our death_. It is out of this deeper

relation that all services, benefits, and advantages flow; and that

deeper sense of "for," to which Christ in His death is at once the

representative and the substitute of man, is essential to do justice

to the Apostle's thought. Without the ideas involved in these words we

cannot conceive, as he conceived it, the love of Christ. We cannot

understand how that force, which exercised such absolute authority

over his whole life, appealed to his intelligence. We do not mean what

he meant even when we use his words; we gain currency, under cover of

them, for ideas utterly inadequate to the spiritual depth of his.

If this were an exposition of St. Paul's theology, and not of the

Second Epistle to the Corinthians, I should be bound to consider the

connexion between that outward death of Christ in which the death of

all is involved, and the appropriation of that death to themselves by

individual men. But the Apostle does not directly raise this question

here; he only adds in the fifteenth verse a statement of the purpose

for which Christ died, and in doing so suggests that the connecting

link is to be sought, in part at least, in the feeling of gratitude.

"He died for all, that they which live should no longer live unto

themselves, but unto Him who died for them and rose again." In dying

our death Christ has done something for us so immense in love that we

ought to be His, and only His, for ever. To make us His is the very

object of His death. Before we know Him we are naturally selfish; we

are an end to ourselves, in the bad sense; we are our own. Even the

sacrifices which men make for their families, their country, or their

order, are but qualifications of selfishness; it is not eradicated and

exterminated till we see and feel what is meant by this--that _Christ

died our death_. The life we have after we have apprehended this can

never be our own; nay, we ourselves are not our own; we are bought

with a price; life has been given a ransom for us, and our life is due

to him "who died for us and rose again." I believe the Authorised

Version is right in this rendering, and that it is a mistake to say,

"who for our sakes died and rose again." The Resurrection has

certainly significance in the work of Christ, but not in precisely the

same way as His death; and Paul mentions it here, not to define its

significance, but simply because he could not think of living except

for One who was Himself alive.

One point deserves especial emphasis here--the universality of the

expressions. Paul has been speaking of himself, and of the constraint

which the love of Christ, as he apprehends it, exercises upon him. But

he no sooner begins to define his thought of Christ's love than he

passes over from the first person to the third. The love of Christ was

not to be limited; what it is to the Apostle it is to the world: He

died for all, and so all died. Whatever blessing Christ's death

contained, it contains for all. Whatever doom it exhausts and removes,

it exhausts and removes for all. Whatever power it breaks, it breaks

for all. Whatever ideal it creates, whatever obligation it imposes, it

creates and imposes for all. There is not a soul in the world which is

excluded from an interest in that knowledge-surpassing love which made

our death its own. There is not one which ought not to feel that

omnipotent constraint which enchained and swayed the strong, proud

spirit of Paul. There is not one which ought not to be pouring out its

life for Him who died in its place, and rose to receive its service.

FOOTNOTES:

[45] The φανερωθῆναι of the last judgment, ver. 10, has as good as

taken place--for God.

[46] According to Winer ἐξέστη in Mark iii. 21 has the present sense =

_insanity_; and so it might be with ἐξέστημεν here. The verb occurs

fifteen times in the New Testament, and except in these two passages

has always the sense of being amazed or astonished beyond measure.

XV

_THE NEW WORLD_

The Expositor's Bible: The Second Epistle to the Corinthians · 第 13 / 27 段