哥林多後書講道集 第 11 章

«Knowing therefore the fear of the Lord, we persuade men, but we are made manifest unto God;»

«and I hope also that we have been made manifest in your consciences.»

Knowing these things, he says—that dread tribunal—we do everything so as to give you no handle against us, nor any stumbling-block, nor any false suspicion of some evil deed on our part.

Do you see the strictness of his manner of life, and the earnestness of a soul that is full of care? For it is not only if we do something wicked, he says, that we are called to account;

but even if we do it not, yet are suspected—and though it be in our power to repel the suspicion—should we despise it, we pay the penalty.

«We are not again commending ourselves unto you, but giving you occasion to glory on our behalf,»

Observe how continually he corrects the suspicion that he seems to be praising himself.

For nothing so offends the hearers as when someone speaks great and marvellous things about himself.

Since therefore he was compelled to fall into this subject in his discourse, he employs a corrective, saying that «This we do for your sakes, not for our own, that you may have wherewith to boast, not that we may;»

but because of the false apostles.

Wherefore also he added, «That you may have somewhat to answer those who glory in appearance, and not in heart.»

Do you see how he drew them away from those men and drew them to himself, showing that the Corinthians too long to receive some occasion whereby they may be able to speak on his behalf and to make a defence to those who accuse him? For it is not that we may boast, he says, that we say these things, but that you may be able to speak freely on our behalf;

which very thing is a great proof to them of a love that bears witness on their behalf;

and not merely that you may boast, but that you may not be swept away.

Yet he does not say this plainly in so many words, but manages his discourse otherwise and more gently, and without wounding those men, saying:

«That you may have wherewith to answer those who glory in appearance.»

But neither does he bid them do even this without cause, unqualifiedly, but only when those men exalt themselves;

for everywhere he looks to the fitting occasion.

It is not, then, that he may show himself illustrious, but that he may put a stop to those men who use the matter absurdly and to the harm of these, that he does this.

But what does «in appearance» mean? In things that are seen, in things done for display.

For such were those men—doing everything for vainglory, and being empty within, having indeed a show of piety and appearing venerable, but standing destitute of good works.

«or whether we be sober-minded, it is for you.»

If we utter anything great, he says (for he calls this «being beside ourselves,» just as elsewhere he calls it «foolishness»), we do this for God's sake, lest you, thinking us mean and worthless, should despise us and perish;

but if we say anything moderate and lowly, it is for your sakes, that you may learn to be humble-minded.

Or again he means this: if anyone thinks us mad, we demand our reward from God, for whose sake we are thus suspected in these matters;

but if he holds us to be sober-minded, let him himself have the benefit of our sobriety.

Does someone say we are mad? For God's sake we are thus mad.

«For the love of God constraineth us, because we thus judge,»

For not only the fear of things to come, he says, but also the things already done do not permit us to be slothful nor to slumber, but rouse us up to labours on your behalf, and urge us on.

And what are the things already done? That «if one died for all, then all died.»

So then, as though all had perished, he says.

For unless all had died, He would not have died for all.

For here are the occasions of salvation, but there no longer.

For this cause he says, «The love of God constraineth us,» and does not suffer us to be at ease.

For it is the extreme of wretchedness, and more grievous than hell itself, that when He has displayed so great a thing, any should be found who, after such great providence of His, reap no fruit at all.

For great indeed is the surpassing measure of that love—both to die for so great a world, and, being so disposed toward it, to die.

«That they which live should no longer live unto themselves, but unto Him who died for them and rose again.»

If, then, we ought not to live unto ourselves, be not troubled, he says, neither be dismayed when dangers and deaths come upon us.

And he sets down also an indisputable reasoning, whereby he shows that the matter is a debt we owe.

For if we live through Him who died, we owe it to live unto Him through whom we live.

And what has been said seems to be one thing, but if one should examine it accurately, these are two;

one, that through Him we live; the other, that He died for us;

each of which, even by itself, is enough to make us debtors;

but when both come together, consider how great is the debt.

Nay rather, these are even three.

For He also raised up the firstfruits for your sake, and led it up into heaven;

wherefore also he added, «unto Him who died for us and rose again.»

«So that henceforth we know no man after the flesh.»

For if all died and all rose again—and died in such a way as the tyranny of sin condemned them, but rose again through the washing of regeneration and the renewing of the Holy Spirit—

with reason he says, «We know no one of the faithful after the flesh.»

For what though they are in the flesh? Yet that fleshly life has perished, and we have been born from above in the Spirit, and we know another manner of conduct and way of life and living and estate.

And again he shows that Christ Himself is the author of this very thing;

wherefore also he added, «Even though we have known Christ after the flesh, yet now we know Him so no more.»

What then, tell me? Did He put off the flesh, and is He now no longer with the body? God forbid!

For even now He is in the flesh.

«For this same Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, shall so come.»

How? In the flesh, with the body.

How then does he say, «Even though we have known Christ after the flesh, yet now no more»? For with us the phrase «after the flesh» means to be in sins, and «not after the flesh» means not to be in sins.

But in Christ's case, «after the flesh» means to be in the natural sufferings—such as in thirsting, in hungering, in growing weary, in sleeping (for «He did no sin, neither was guile found in His mouth»);

wherefore also He said, «Which of you convicteth Me of sin?» and again, «The prince of this world cometh, and hath nothing in Me.»

But «not after the flesh» means henceforth to be delivered even from these things—not to be outside the flesh.

For with this very flesh He comes to judge the world, having it now impassible and incorruptible;

into which state we too shall pass, our body being made conformed to the body of His glory.

So then, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.

For since he had exhorted them to virtue by way of love, he now leads them to this same end from the very facts themselves.

This is why he goes on to add, 'If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.'

If anyone has believed in Him, he says, he has come into another creation;

for indeed he has been born again from above through the Spirit.

So then, for this reason too, he says, we are bound 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 the firstfruits of our nature, but also because we have come into another life.

See how many just grounds he lays down for living rightly.

For this reason indeed he calls the amendment by a weightier name, that he may show how great is the removal and the transformation.

Then, going still further into what he has said, and showing in what way it is a new creation, he says, 'The old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.'

What old things? Either he means our sins and impieties, or all the things of Judaism;

or rather he means both these and those.

Behold, all things have become new.

For indeed the remission of sins, and adoption as sons, and imperishable glory have been bestowed on us from Him.

For he no longer urges them on from the things to come alone, but also from things present.

He had said that we are about to rise again, and to pass into incorruption, and to have an eternal dwelling;

but since, with those who do not believe these things as they ought to be believed, present things have greater power to persuade than things to come, he shows how much they have already received, and what manner of men they were.

Being what manner of men, then, did they receive? All dead ('For all,' he says, 'died, and He died for all;'

for thus He loved all alike), grown old and worn out, every one of them, in their evils.

But behold, a new soul as well (for it was cleansed), and a new body, and a new worship, and new promises, and a new covenant, and a new life, and a new table, and a new robe, and simply all things new.

For in place of the Jerusalem below we have received the mother-city above; in place of a perceptible temple we have beheld a spiritual temple; in place of tablets of stone, tablets of flesh; in place of circumcision, baptism; in place of the manna, the Lord's Body; in place of water from a rock, blood from His side; in place of the rod of Moses or of Aaron, the Cross; in place of the land of promise, the kingdom of heaven; in place of ten thousand priests, one High Priest; in place of an irrational lamb, a spiritual Lamb.

Reckoning these things and such as these, he said, 'All things are new.'

And all these things are from God, through Christ and His gift.

Who reconciled us to Himself through Christ, and gave to us the ministry of reconciliation.

For from this source come all good things.

For He who made us friends is Himself also the author of the other things which God gave to His friends.

For it was not while leaving us to remain enemies that He thus requited us, but after making us friends to Himself.

And when I say that Christ is the author of the reconciliation, I mean the Father also;

when I say that the Father has given, I mean the Son also.

For all things came into being through Him.

For it was not we who ran to Him, but He Himself who called us.

How did He call us? Through the slaying of Christ.

And gave to us the ministry of reconciliation.

Here again he shows the dignity of the apostles, showing how great a matter was entrusted to them, and the surpassing greatness of the love of God.

For not even when they disregarded the ambassador who had come did He grow exasperated and abandon them, but He continues entreating both through Himself and through others.

Who could be sufficiently amazed at this tender care? The Son was slain when He came for reconciliation—the true and only-begotten One—and not even so did the Father turn away from those who had killed Him; nor did He say, 'I sent My Son to be an ambassador, and they not only refused to hear, but even killed and crucified Him;

it is fitting therefore to abandon them henceforth;'

but on the contrary, in every way, when He had departed, He entrusted the matter to us.

'For having given to us,' he says, 'the ministry of reconciliation.'

Namely, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not reckoning to them their trespasses.

Do you see a love that surpasses all speech, that surpasses all understanding? Who was the one insulted? He Himself.

Who was the first to come for reconciliation? He Himself.

And yet, one might say, 'He sent the Son; He did not come Himself.'

He did indeed send the Son, but it was not the Son alone who entreated; rather the Father also entreated, both with Him and through Him;

wherefore he said that God was the one who was reconciling the world to Himself in Christ.

That is to say, through Christ.

For since he had said, 'Who gave to us the ministry of reconciliation,' he employs a correction, saying:

Do not suppose that we are the authors of the matter;

rather it is God who works the whole, He who reconciled the world through the Only-begotten.

And how did He reconcile it to Himself? For this is the marvel—not only that He became a friend, but that He became a friend in such a way.

How? By forgiving them their sins;

wherefore also he added, 'Not reckoning to them their trespasses.'

For indeed, if He had willed to demand an accounting of our offences, we should all have perished;

yet nevertheless, though our sins were so many, not only did He not exact punishment, but He was even reconciled;

He not only forgave, but did not even reckon them.

So too must we forgive our enemies, that we ourselves also may obtain the same forgiveness.

And having placed in us the word of reconciliation.

For neither have we now come for any burdensome purpose, but that we may make all men friends to God.

'For since,' he says, 'they were not persuaded by me, do you continue entreating them until you persuade them.'

We are ambassadors therefore on behalf of Christ, as though God were entreating through us.

We beseech you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.

Do you see how he exalted the matter, by bringing in Christ as the one making this supplication? Or rather, not Christ alone, but the Father also? For what he says is this:

The Father sent the Son to entreat and to act as ambassador to the nature of men on His own behalf.

Since therefore that One, having been slain, departed, we have succeeded to the embassy, and in His stead and in the Father's stead we entreat you.

At so high a price is the race of men esteemed, that He even gave up His Son—and this knowing that He would be slain—and made us apostles for your sakes;

so that with good reason he said, 'All things are for your sakes.'

We are ambassadors therefore on behalf of Christ.

That is to say, in Christ's stead;

for we have taken up His concerns.

But if this seems to you to be a great thing, hear also what follows, whereby he shows that they do this not only in His stead, but also in the Father's stead.

For it was because of this that he added, 'As though God were entreating through us.'

For not through His Son alone does He entreat, but also through us who have taken up that same work of His.

'Therefore do not think,' he says, 'that you are being counted worthy only by us.'

Christ Himself entreats you; the very Father of Christ entreats you through us.

What could be equal to this surpassing greatness? For He Himself, who had conferred countless benefits and yet was outraged, not only did not exact a penalty, but even gave His own Son, that we might be reconciled.

Those who received Him were not reconciled, but even slew Him.

And even when these had been sent and treated thus, it is He who still counts us worthy.

And what does He count us worthy of? 'Be reconciled to God.'

And he did not say, 'Reconcile God to yourselves';

for it is not He who bears enmity, but you;

for God never bears enmity.

And pleading His cause, as though sent as an ambassador, he says, 'For Him who knew no sin He made to be sin on our behalf.'

I do not speak of what came before—that you outraged Him, that you did so to One who had done no wrong, to One who had conferred benefits, that He did not exact a penalty, that He is the first to entreat, though the first to be outraged;

let none of those things be reckoned for the present.

For this reason alone, would you not be justly bound to be reconciled, for what He has now done toward you? And what has He done? 'For Him who knew no sin He made to be sin for your sake.'

For even if He had accomplished nothing else but had wrought this alone, consider how great a thing it was to give up His Son on behalf of those who had outraged Him.

But as it is, He both achieved great things, and along with these He allowed Him who had done no wrong to be punished on behalf of those who had done wrong.

Yet he did not say this, but set down what is far greater than this.

What then is this? 'Him who knew no sin,' he says, 'who was righteousness itself, He made to be sin';

that is, He suffered Him to be condemned as a sinner, to die as one accursed;

for 'Cursed is everyone who hangs upon a tree.'

For to die in this manner was far greater a thing than merely to die;

which also, hinting at it elsewhere, he says, 'Having become obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.'

For the deed carried with it not punishment alone, but also shame.

Consider, therefore, how much He has granted you.

For it is a great thing even for a sinner to die on behalf of anyone at all;

but when He who suffers this is also righteous, and dies on behalf of sinners, and not only dies but dies as one accursed, and not only as one accursed but thereupon freely bestows on us great good things which we never expected ('For that we might become the righteousness of God in Him,' he says)—what speech, what mind will be able to set these things forth? 'For He made the righteous One,' he says, 'to be a sinner, that He might make the sinners righteous.'

Rather, he did not even say it thus, but what was far greater;

for he did not set down a habit, but the quality itself.

For he did not say, 'He made Him a sinner,' but 'sin';

not 'Him who had not sinned' merely, but 'Him who did not even know sin.'

that we too might become—he did not say 'righteous,' but 'righteousness,' and 'the righteousness of God.'

For this is God's own righteousness, when we are justified not by works, when no stain whatever need be found in us, but from grace, where every sin is done away.

And this at once both does not permit us to be lifted up, since God bestowed the whole as a gift, and teaches us the greatness of what was given.

For that former righteousness was of the Law and of works, but this is the righteousness of God.

Considering these things, then, let us fear these words more than hell, let us revere the realities of the kingdom more than any punishment, and let us reckon that the grievous thing is not to be punished, but to sin.

For indeed, even if He did not punish us, we ourselves would have to exact a penalty of ourselves, for having become so ungrateful toward our Benefactor.

But as it is, a man who has a beloved has often even slain himself when he failed to obtain his love;

and even when he has obtained her, if he has offended against her, he does not think himself worthy even to live;

yet toward Him who is thus loving to mankind and gentle we behave outrageously—shall we not be casting ourselves into the fire of hell? Let me say something paradoxical and marvelous, and perhaps to many incredible;

there will be greater consolation for one who is being punished after having provoked Him who is so loving to mankind—if he has understanding, and loves the Master as one ought to love—than for one who is not being punished.

And this one may see even from common experience.

For he who has wronged a dearest friend then most of all finds rest, when he exacts a penalty of himself and suffers ill;

just as David also said, 'I the shepherd have sinned, and I the shepherd have done wickedly;'

'but these, the flock, what have they done? Let Your hand be against the house of my father.'

And when he had lost Absalom, he exacted of himself the utmost penalty;

and yet it was not he who had done the wrong, but he who had been wronged;

but nevertheless, since he loved exceedingly the one who had departed, he racked himself with anguish, thereby consoling himself.

Let us, therefore, when we sin against Him against whom we ought not to sin, exact a penalty of ourselves.

Do you not see those who have lost their own true-born children, that for this reason they beat themselves and tear their hair, since it brings consolation to chastise oneself on behalf of those one loves? But if, when we ourselves have done our dearest ones no harm, it brings us consolation to suffer ill on behalf of those who have suffered ill,

when we ourselves are the ones who have provoked and outraged Him, shall not the paying of a penalty give us far greater rest than the not-being-punished is a punishment? To everyone, I think, it is plain.

If anyone loves Christ as one ought to love, he knows what I mean, how he will not endure to go unpunished even when Christ Himself allows it;

for you undergo the greatest punishment in having provoked Him.

And I know indeed that to the many I am speaking things incredible, yet nonetheless it is even as I have said.

If, therefore, we love Christ as one ought to love, we shall punish ourselves when we sin.

For to those who love anyone whatsoever, the distressing thing is not to suffer some ill on account of that for which they provoked their beloved, but the very provoking of the one they love, above all else.

And if this one, being angered, does not punish, he has tormented his lover the more;

but if he exacts a penalty, he has rather consoled him.

Let us not, therefore, fear hell, but the offending of God;

for this is more grievous than that, when He turns away in anger;

this is worse than all things, this is more oppressive than all.

And that you may learn how great it is, consider this which I say.

If someone, seeing a man—a robber and a malefactor—being punished, being himself a king, gave up his beloved, only-begotten, and true-born son to be slain, and along with the death transferred also the guilt from that man onto the son who was not such, in order both to save the condemned and to free him from his wicked repute, and then afterward, having raised him to great office, after the salvation and the unutterable glory, was outraged by the very one who had received such things;

would not that man, if he had any sense, have chosen to die ten thousand times rather than be found liable to such great ingratitude? This, then, let us reckon even now, and let us groan bitterly over the things wherein we have provoked our Benefactor;

nor, because He long-sufferingly bears our outrages, let us on that account grow bold, but for that very reason let us be pierced with remorse.

For even in the case of men, when someone, having been struck on the right cheek, gives also the left, he avenges himself the more than if he had dealt ten thousand blows;

and when, having been reviled, he not only does not revile in return but even blesses, he has struck the harder blow than if he had washed the other with ten thousand reproaches.

But if, in the case of men, when we outrage them and enjoy their long-suffering, we are put to shame;

much more, in the case of God, ought those who continually sin and suffer no ill to be afraid;

for indeed, to the harm of their own head, an unspeakable retribution is being stored up for them.

Considering these things, then, above all let us fear sin;

For this is punishment, this is hell, this is the ten thousand evils.

Let us not merely be afraid, but let us also flee, and let us be diligent to please God continually;

for this is the kingdom, this is life, this is the ten thousand good things.

Thus even from this present life we shall already attain the kingdom, and the good things to come;

which may it be granted to us all to attain, by the grace and love toward mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, dominion, and honour, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen.