Homily 11 — Second Corinthians 5, verses 11 to 21

“Knowing, therefore, the fear of the Lord, we persuade people; but we are made plain to God, and I hope that we are made plain in your consciences as well.” [a]

Knowing these things, then, he says — knowing that fearsome judgment seat — we do everything so as to give you no handle against us and no offense, and no false suspicion of any wrongdoing on our part. Do you see how strict his life was, and the zeal of a watchful soul? “For we are open to accusation not only if we commit some evil deed,” he says; “even if we do not commit it, but are suspected, and have it in our power to clear away the suspicion, and yet shrug it off, we are punished.”

Verse 12: “We are not commending ourselves to you again, but are speaking to give you an occasion to boast on our behalf.”

See how he keeps heading off the suspicion that he is praising himself. For nothing offends hearers so much as someone saying great and marvelous things about himself. So, since what he was saying forced him onto that subject, he adds a correction, saying: “We do this for your sakes, not for ours, so that you may have something to boast of, not so that we may.” And not even this without qualification, but because of the false apostles. That is why he also added, “to answer those who boast in appearance and not in heart.”

Do you see how he has pulled the Corinthians away from those men and drawn them to himself? He has shown that the Corinthians themselves are longing to get hold of some occasion that will put it in their power to speak up for the apostles and defend them before their accusers. For he says: “We say these things not so that we may boast, but so that you may have grounds to speak freely on our behalf.” That is the language of someone bearing witness to their great love. “And not merely so that you may boast, but so that you may not be led astray.” But this he does not say outright. He handles his words differently, in a gentler form, without landing a blow on them, and says, “so that you may have something to boast of against those who boast in appearance.”

Yet he does not tell them to do even this without qualification, when there is no cause for it, but only when those men exalt themselves; for in everything he watches for the fitting moment. So he does not do this to make himself look illustrious, but to stop those men, who were using the thing wrongly and to the harm of the Corinthians. But what does “in appearance” mean? In what is seen, in what is put on show. For that is what those men were like. They did everything out of love of honor. Inside they were empty; they wore an appearance of piety and an air of dignity, but of good works they had none.

Verse 13: “For whether we are beside ourselves, it is for God; or whether we are of sound mind, it is for you.” [c]

And if, he says, we have said anything great — for that is what he calls being beside himself here, just as in other places he calls it folly (Second Corinthians 11, verses 1, 17 and 21) — we do it for God’s sake, so that you will not think us worthless, despise us, and be lost. Or if, again, we have said anything modest and lowly, it is for your sakes, so that you may learn to be humble-minded.

Or again, he means this: if anyone thinks we are mad, we look for our reward from God, for whose sake we are suspected of it; but if anyone thinks we are of sound mind, let him reap the benefit of our sound mind. And again, another way: does anyone say we are mad? It is for God’s sake that we are mad in this way. That is why he adds:

Verse 14: “For the love of God compels us, because we judge this.” “For it is not only the fear of the things to come,” he says, “but also the things that have already happened, that do not let us be lazy or doze off, but rouse us and drive us on to these labors of ours on your behalf.” And what are the things that have already happened?

“That if one died for all, then all died.” “Surely, then, it was because all were lost,” he says. For unless all had been dead, he would not have died for all. For here the opportunities of salvation exist; but there they are no longer to be found. That is why he says, “The love of God compels us,” and does not let us rest. For it comes from the depths of wretchedness, and is worse than hell itself, that after he has set forth so mighty a deed, after so great a proof of his care for us, anyone should be found who reaps no benefit from it. For the love was overwhelming: both to die for a world so vast, and to die for it when it was in such a state.

Verse 15: “So that those who live should no longer live for themselves, but for him who died and rose again for their sakes.”

If, then, we ought not to live for ourselves, “do not be troubled,” he says, “and do not be thrown into confusion when dangers and deaths come upon you.” And besides, he gives an argument beyond dispute, by which he shows that this is a debt. For if we who were dead live through him, we ought to live for the one through whom we live. What is said looks like one thing, but if you examine it closely, it is two: one, that we live through him; the other, that he died for us. Either of these, even alone, is enough to put us in his debt; but when both are joined together, think how great the debt is! Or rather, there are three things here. For he also raised up the firstfruits for your sake and led them up to heaven. That is why he added, “who died and rose again for our sakes.”

Verse 16: “So from now on we know no one according to the flesh.” For if all died and all rose again — died in the way the tyranny of sin had condemned them to die, and rose again “through the washing of new birth and the renewing of the Holy Spirit” (Titus 3, verse 5) — he rightly says, “We know no one” of the faithful “according to the flesh.” For what if they are still in the flesh? That fleshly life has been destroyed, and we have been born again by the Spirit, and have learned another way of conduct, another rule, another life and state: the one in heaven. And again he shows that Christ is the author of this very thing. That is why he also added, “Even though we have known Christ according to the flesh, yet now we know him so no longer.” [e]

What, then? Tell me: did he put away the flesh, and is he no longer in that body now? Far from it! He is clothed in flesh even now. For “this Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way” (Acts 1, verse 11). In the same way — how? In the flesh, with his body. How, then, does he say, “Even though we have known Christ according to the flesh, yet from now on no longer”? In our case, “according to the flesh” means being in sins, and “not according to the flesh” means not being in sins. But in Christ’s case, “according to the flesh” means his being subject to what nature undergoes, such as thirst, hunger, weariness and sleep. For “he committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth” (First Peter 2, verse 22). That is why he also said, “Which of you convicts me of sin?” (John 8, verse 46), and again, “The ruler of this world is coming, and he has nothing in me” (John 14, verse 30).

So “not according to the flesh” means his being set free, from then on, even from these things — not his being without flesh. For with the flesh he will come to judge the world as well, beyond suffering and pure. To that we too will advance, when “our body” has been “fashioned like his glorious body” (Philippians 3, verse 21).

Verse 17: “So if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.” Having urged them on to virtue from Christ’s love, he now leads them on to it from what has actually been done for them. That is why he added, “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.” “If anyone,” he says, “has believed in him, he has come into another creation, for he has been born again by the Spirit.” So for this reason too, he says, we ought to live for him: not only because we are not our own, nor only because he died for us, nor only because he raised up our firstfruits, but also because we have come into another life. See how many just grounds he urges for a life of virtue! That is also why he gives this reform a more physical name, to show how great the passage and the change are. Then, following up what he had said and showing how it is “a new creation,” he adds, “The old things have passed away; look, all things have become new.” [g]

What old things? He means either sins and ungodliness, or else all the Jewish observances. Or rather, he means both the one and the other. “Look, all things have become new.”

Verse 18: “But all things are from God.”

Nothing is from ourselves. For forgiveness of sins, adoption, and glory beyond words are given to us by him. He no longer urges them on only from the things to come, but even from those already present. Consider: he had said that we will be raised again, and go on to incorruption, and have an eternal house. But since present things have more power to persuade than things to come, with those who do not believe in these as they ought to believe, he shows how great the things are that they have received already, and what they were when they received them.

What were they, then, when they received them? All dead — for he says, “all died,” and, “he died for all”; so equally did he love them all — all worn out, grown old in their vices. But look: a new soul, for it was cleansed; a new body; a new worship; new promises, a new covenant, a new life, a new table, new clothing — absolutely everything new. For instead of the Jerusalem below, we have received the mother city that is above (Galatians 4, verse 26); instead of a material temple, we have seen a spiritual temple; instead of tablets of stone, tablets of flesh; instead of circumcision, baptism; instead of the manna, the Lord’s body; instead of water from a rock, blood from his side; instead of the rod of Moses or of Aaron, the cross; instead of the promised land, the kingdom of heaven; instead of a thousand priests, one High Priest; instead of a lamb without reason, a spiritual Lamb. It was with these and similar things in mind that he said, “All things are new.” But “all” these “things are from God,” through Christ, and are his free gift. That is why he also added, “who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and gave us the ministry of reconciliation.”

For all the good things come from him. The one who made us friends is himself also the cause of the other things that God has given to his friends. He did not give us these things while leaving us enemies; he gave them after making us his friends. But when I say that Christ is the cause of our reconciliation, I am saying that the Father is too; and when I say that the Father gave, I am saying that the Son gave as well. For “all things were made through him” (John 1, verse 3), and of this too he is the author. For we did not run to him; he himself called us. How did he call us? By the sacrifice of Christ.

“And gave us the ministry of reconciliation.” Here again he sets out the dignity of the apostles, showing how great a thing had been put into their hands, and how overwhelmingly great the love of God is. For even when people would not listen to the Ambassador who came, he was not provoked and did not leave them to themselves, but goes on urging them, both in his own person and through others. Who could marvel enough at such care? The Son who came to reconcile, his true and only Son, was killed; and not even then did the Father turn away from his murderers. He did not say: “I sent my Son as an ambassador, but they not only would not listen to him, they even killed him and crucified him. From now on it is right to leave them to themselves.” Quite the opposite: when the Son departed, he entrusted the business to us. For he says, “and gave us the ministry of reconciliation.”

Verse 19: “That is, God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, not reckoning their trespasses to them.” [j]

Do you see a love beyond all words, beyond all thought? Who was the one wronged? He himself. Who first sought the reconciliation? He himself. “And yet,” someone says, “he sent the Son; he did not come himself.” It was the Son he sent, yes. Still, the Son did not plead alone; the Father pleaded too, both with him and through him. That is why he said that “God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ,” that is, through Christ. For since he had said, “who gave us the ministry of reconciliation,” here he added a correction, saying: “Do not think that we act on our own authority in this business. We are servants; the one who does it all is God, who reconciled the world through his only Son.”

And how did he reconcile it to himself? For this is the marvel: not only that it was made a friend, but that it was made a friend in this way. In this way — what way? By forgiving them their sins; there was no other way it could be done. That is why he also added, “not reckoning their trespasses to them.” For if it had been his will to call us to account for the things we had done wrong, we would all have perished, for “all died.” Yet though our sins were so great, he not only did not demand what was owed, he was even reconciled; he not only forgave, he did not even “reckon” them. So we too ought to forgive our enemies, so that we ourselves may receive the same forgiveness.

“And has entrusted to us the word of reconciliation.” For we have not come now on some hateful errand, but to make all people friends with God. For he says: “Since they were not persuaded by me, you go on pleading with them until you have persuaded them.” That is why he also added:

Verse 20: “So we are ambassadors on behalf of Christ, as though God were pleading through us. We beg you on behalf of Christ: be reconciled to God.”

Do you see how he has exalted the thing, by bringing Christ in as one who pleads — or rather, not Christ only, but the Father too? For what he is saying is this: “The Father sent the Son to plead, and to be his Ambassador to humankind. When he had been killed and was gone, we took over the embassy; and in his place, and the Father’s, we plead with you. So highly does he value humankind that he gave up even the Son, and that knowing he would be killed, and he made us apostles for your sakes.” So he rightly said, “All things are for your sakes” (Second Corinthians 4, verse 15). “So we are ambassadors on behalf of Christ” — that is, in Christ’s place, for we have taken over his work. But if this seems a great thing to you, listen also to what follows, where he shows that they do this not only in Christ’s place but in the Father’s too. That is why he also added, “as though God were pleading through us.” “For he pleads not only through the Son himself, but also through us, who have taken over the Son’s office. So do not think,” he says, “that it is we who are pleading with you. Christ himself, and the Father of Christ himself, is pleading with you through us.”

What could match such overflowing goodness? The one who had done countless kindnesses was insulted; and once insulted, he not only did not demand justice, he even gave his Son so that we might be reconciled. Those who received him were not reconciled, but even killed him. Again he sent other ambassadors to plead, and though it is they who are sent, it is he himself who pleads. And what does he plead for? “Be reconciled to God.” He did not say, “Reconcile God to yourselves,” for it is not he who holds the enmity, but you; God never holds enmity. And pressing his case, like an ambassador on his mission, he says:

Verse 21: “For him who knew no sin he made to be sin on our account.” “I say nothing of what came before: that you insulted him, though he had done you no wrong, though he had done you good; that he did not demand justice; that he is the first to plead, though he was the first insulted. Let none of these things be counted for now. Ought you not, in justice, to be reconciled for this one thing alone that he has done for you now?” And what has he done? “Him who knew no sin he made to be sin for you.” Even if he had accomplished nothing else and done only this, think how great a thing it would be to give his Son for those who had insulted him. But as it is, he has both accomplished mighty things and, besides, let the one who did no wrong be punished for those who had done wrong.

Yet he did not say this; he mentioned something far greater. What is it? “Him who knew no sin,” he says — him who was righteousness itself — “he made sin”: that is, he let him be condemned as a sinner and die as one cursed. “For cursed is he who hangs on a tree” (Galatians 3, verse 13). For to die in this way was far greater than simply to die. He hints at this elsewhere too, when he says, “becoming obedient to death, even the death of the cross” (Philippians 2, verse 8). For this carried with it not only punishment, but disgrace as well.

Think, then, how great the things are that he has given you. It would be a great thing even for a sinner to die for anyone at all. But when the one who undergoes this is righteous, and dies for sinners — and not only dies, but dies as one cursed — and not only dies cursed, but by that death freely gives us those great goods we never looked for (for he says, “so that we might become the righteousness of God in him”) — what words, what thought, will be equal to these things? “For he made the righteous one a sinner,” he says, “so that he might make sinners righteous.” Or rather, he did not even say that, but something far greater. For the word he used names not the condition, but the thing itself. He did not say he made him “a sinner,” but “sin”; not “him who had not sinned” only, but him who “did not even know sin”; “so that we” too “might become” — he did not say “righteous,” but “righteousness,” and “the righteousness of God.”

For this is the righteousness “of God”: when we are counted righteous not by works — in which case we would need to be found without a single spot — but by grace, in which case all sin is wiped away. And while this keeps us from being proud, since the whole is God’s free gift, it also teaches us how great the gift is. For what came before was a righteousness of the law and of works; but this is “the righteousness of God.”

So, reflecting on these things, let us fear these words more than hell; let us revere what they tell us more than the kingdom; and let us not count it grievous to be punished, but to sin. For even if he were not to punish us, we ought to take vengeance on ourselves, for being so ungrateful to our Benefactor. [m]

A man in love has often even killed himself when he failed to win the one he loved; and even when he has won her, if he has done her some wrong, he does not think himself fit even to live. And shall we, when we insult one so loving and so gentle, not throw ourselves into the fire of hell? Shall I say something strange and marvelous, and to many perhaps unbelievable? For someone who has understanding and loves the Lord as he ought to be loved, there will be more comfort in being punished, after provoking one so loving, than in not being punished.

You can see this from ordinary experience. The one who has wronged his dearest friend feels the greatest relief when he has taken vengeance on himself and suffered for it. That is why David said, “I the shepherd have sinned, and I the shepherd have done wrong; and these, the flock, what have they done? Let your hand be on me and on my father’s house” (Second Samuel 24, verse 17, in the Greek Old Testament). And when he lost Absalom, he punished himself to the utmost, although he was not the one who had done the wrong but the one who had suffered it. Yet because he loved the son who was gone exceedingly, he tortured himself with grief, and in this way comforted himself.

So let us too, when we sin against the one we ought never to sin against, take vengeance on ourselves. Do you not see people who have lost true-born children beating themselves and tearing their hair? They do it because punishing themselves for the sake of those they loved brings comfort with it. But if, when we have done no harm to those dearest to us, suffering over what has happened to them brings consolation, then when we ourselves are the ones who have given the provocation and done the wrong, will it not be far more of a relief to pay the penalty? And will not going unpunished be itself a punishment? Everyone, in a way, will see this.

If anyone loves Christ as he ought to be loved, he knows what I mean: how, even when Christ forgives, he will not bear to go unpunished. For you undergo the heaviest punishment in having provoked him. I know, of course, that most people will not believe what I am saying; but still, it is just as I have said. If, then, we love Christ as he ought to be loved, we will punish ourselves when we sin. For to those who love anyone at all, what is painful is not so much suffering something for having provoked the one they love, but above all the fact that they have provoked the one they love. And if the loved one, when angered, does not punish, he has tortured the lover all the more; but if he exacts a penalty, he has comforted him instead.

So let us not fear hell, but offending God. For this is more grievous than hell: when he turns away in anger. This is worse than everything, heavier than everything. And so that you may learn what a thing this is, consider what I am about to say. Suppose a king saw a robber and criminal being punished, and gave up his dearly loved son, his only and true-born son, to be killed; and transferred the death, and the guilt as well, from the man to his son, who was nothing of the kind, so that he might both save the condemned man and clear him of his evil reputation. Suppose that afterward he raised him to high rank; and then, after saving him in this way and lifting him to that glory beyond words, he was insulted by the very man who had been treated so. Would not that man, if he had any sense, have chosen ten thousand deaths rather than be seen guilty of such great ingratitude?

This, then, is what we too should consider among ourselves now. Let us groan bitterly over the provocations we have offered our Benefactor. And let us not grow presumptuous because, though insulted, he bears it with patience; rather, for that very reason let us be full of remorse. For among people too, when someone struck on the right cheek offers the left as well, he avenges himself more than if he had landed ten thousand blows; and when someone who is abused not only does not abuse in return but even blesses, he has struck his opponent more heavily than if he had rained ten thousand insults on him. Now if, in dealing with people, we feel ashamed when our insults are met with patience, how much more, in dealing with God, ought those to be afraid who go on sinning continually and yet suffer no disaster! For it is to their own harm, on their own heads, that a punishment beyond words is being stored up for them.

Keeping these things in mind, then, let us fear sin above all things; for this is punishment, this is hell, this is ten thousand evils. And let us not only fear it but flee from it, and strive to please God always; for this is the kingdom, this is life, this is ten thousand good things. So we will receive, even here and now, the kingdom and the good things to come. May we all attain them, through the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom, to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might and honor, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.