INTRODUCTION

We have now come to what might be called the crescendo of the great new covenant symphony. The overture was glorious, but it nevertheless fades in our memory as we listen to the part of the performance that God has brought us to now.

THE TEXT

“But if the ministration of death, written and engraven in stones, was glorious, so that the children of Israel could not stedfastly behold the face of Moses for the glory of his countenance; which glory was to be done away: How shall not the ministration of the spirit be rather glorious? For if the ministration of condemnation be glory, much more doth the ministration of righteousness exceed in glory. For even that which was made glorious had no glory in this respect, by reason of the glory that excelleth. For if that which is done away was glorious, much more that which remaineth is glorious. Seeing then that we have such hope, we use great plainness of speech: And not as Moses, which put a vail over his face, that the children of Israel could not stedfastly look to the end of that which is abolished . . .” (2 Cor. 3:7–18).

A QUICK CORRECTION

Before summarizing the text, we need to begin with a correction of a common misconception about this passage. That misconception is that Moses put a veil on his face so that the Israelites would not realize how transient his radiance was. This is thought because of a mistranslation of a verb that occurs three times here (vv. 7, 11, 13). In this understanding, the radiance of Moses’ countenance drained, like a battery drains, and he would then go into the tabernacle to meet with God, and to recharge. This is not correct; the verb used here (katargeo) does not actually have the meaning of “to fade away.” The children of Israel could not look at the glory of the ministry of death, a ministry that was going to be rendered inoperative, or be made obsolete.

SUMMARY OF THE TEXT

The law was a ministry of death. Graven in stones, external to the heart, all it could do was kill you. Nevertheless, this killing law was glorious, and the Israelites couldn’t even look at it (v. 7). This glory, the glory of the law, was to be done away. How much more glorious will the ministry of the Spirit have to be then (v. 8)? If the ministry of condemnation was glorious, how much surpassing glory would the ministry of imputed righteousness have (v. 9)? Like a bright moon that fades when the sun rises, the former glory pales in comparison (v. 10). If the temporary ministry of condemnation was glorious, why would the permanent ministry of imputed righteousness not be much more glorious (v. 11)? All of this is the basis of Paul’s plain speaking (v. 12). Paul could do what Moses couldn’t, which was to minister the glory which both of them had (v. 13). Israel couldn’t even look at their glory. The reason was that their minds were blinded, down to Paul’s day. For them the veil remained in the reading of the law, but the veil is removed in Christ (v. 14). He repeats that down to his day, when Moses is read, the veil is on their hearts (v. 15). When they turn to Christ, the veil is lifted (v. 16). The Lord is the Spirit who brings the liberty of being able to handle glory (v. 17). But we, like Moses in the tabernacle, worship the Lord with unveiled faces, and are ourselves transformed by the work of the Spirit (v. 18).

A GLORY THAT KILLS

The common reading that I rejected a moment ago has the problem of making Moses a manipulator and deceiver. He didn’t want the people to realize that his glory was not permanent, and so he hid the fading of that glory away. Or worse, Moses was not the deceiver, but Paul interpreted that episode in such a way as made Moses out to be a liar.

“And it came to pass, when Moses came down from mount Sinai with the two tables of testimony in Moses’ hand, when he came down from the mount, that Moses wist not that the skin of his face shone while he talked with him. And when Aaron and all the children of Israel saw Moses, behold, the skin of his face shone; and they were afraid to come nigh him. And Moses called unto them; and Aaron and all the rulers of the congregation returned unto him: and Moses talked with them. And afterward all the children of Israel came nigh: and he gave them in commandment all that the Lord had spoken with him in mount Sinai. And till Moses had done speaking with them, he put a vail on his face. But when Moses went in before the Lord to speak with him, he took the vail off, until he came out. And he came out, and spake unto the children of Israel that which he was commanded. And the children of Israel saw the face of Moses, that the skin of Moses’ face shone: and Moses put the vail upon his face again, until he went in to speak with him” (Exodus 34:29–35).

The passage in Exodus doesn’t have any hint of Moses trying to hide the fact that his radiance would fade. He wore the veil because his radiance was frightening to the children of Israel, and it was hard for them to come near. This is the ministry of death, remember, according to Paul. The law is not sin, but the law is death to sinners. Two chapters earlier, in the aftermath of the golden calf fiasco, three thousand Israelites were killed (Ex. 32:26-28). God had told them in the previous chapter that He would not go with them, lest He have to consume them in the way (Ex. 33:3, 5). Moses was veiling them from a glory that kills.

WHAT IS PAUL’S ILLUSTRATION ABOUT THEN?

Moses was not being deceptive about the glory that would fade, but some of his ostensible heirs most certainly werebeing deceptive about it. When the law was read, the unbelieving Jews could not see the condition of their Ichabod-hearts. The veil covers the face, and in his illustration, the heart is the face (v. 15). They cannot see the true condition of their heart. When the law was being read, a veil was over their heart, preventing them from seeing what the law was saying about their heart.

But we, with open face (heart), are looking at the glory of the Lord. We are in the same position that Moses was in during his visits to the tabernacle. This is why we are being transformed from glory to glory. And why? Because you become like what you worship—which means we can look ahead. God is giving us the “light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Cor. 4:6).

Read Full Article

INTRODUCTION

We are now coming to a passage that teaches us where the spiritual action really is. Do you want to be right with God? It is not going to happen because you got all your papers in order, and then got them stamped. “Right with God” is a judicial category, but not a bureaucratic one.

We must learn two things. The letter kills and the Spirit gives life. But secondly, the Spirit gives life to the letter. We must have two things; we must have a new covenant, and we must have a new heart. And all these things go together.

THE TEXT

“Do we begin again to commend ourselves? or need we, as some others, epistles of commendation to you, or letters of commendation from you? Ye are our epistle written in our hearts, known and read of all men: Forasmuch as ye are manifestly declared to be the epistle of Christ ministered by us, written not with ink, but with the Spirit of the living God; not in tables of stone, but in fleshy tables of the heart. And such trust have we through Christ to God-ward: Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think any thing as of ourselves; but our sufficiency is of God; Who also hath made us able ministers of the new testament; not of the letter, but of the spirit: for the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life.” (2 Corinthians 3:1–6).

SUMMARY OF THE TEXT

Paul asks, “Are you really going to make me talk about myself? Are you going to make me address things that you already know” (v. 1)? Do the Corinthians think he needs a letter of recommendation (like some people Paul could mention)? What are they talking about? Paul says that they are his walking, living, breathing letter of recommendation (v. 2), written on the hearts of the apostolic company. The tablets were hearts, but the manner of writing was not ink for papyrus, and not a chisel for stone, but rather the writing utensil was the Spirit of God (v. 3). Paul then states his confidence (v. 4), which is toward God in Christ. The same Paul who just a few sentences before had cried out who is sufficient? now says that while he is not sufficient in himself, he is nevertheless sufficient through God (v. 5). God is the one who has made him a minister of the new covenant—not of the letter, but of the Spirit. The letter kills, but the Spirit gives life (v. 6).

GANDALF AND THE BALROG

Every finite servant of God has a breaking point. That is what it means to be finite. And because God tests His servants, He takes them right up to that limit. Why? Well, remember what we saw in the first chapter— “But we had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves, but in God which raiseth the dead” (2 Cor. 1:9). God wants to squeeze all the self-sufficiency out of His servants. “You, my son, are still entirely too perky.” Some men are too talented to use, but absolutely no one is too weak to use. Did Jeremiah feel sufficient (Jer. 1:6)? Did Moses feel sufficient (Ex. 4:10-17)? Did Ezekiel feel sufficient (Eze. 1:1-3:11)? Did Gideon feel sufficient (Judg. 6:15)? Did Isaiah feel sufficient (Is. 6:1-7)? Did Paul feel sufficient (v. 16)? Who is sufficient for these things?

But by the same token, and for this reason, we see that Paul had supreme confidence in his sufficiency in Christ. “Our sufficiency is of God” (v. 5). In other words, when you come to the end of yourself, you have not come to the end of Christ.

THE FINGER OF GOD

Paul says here that the letter he is talking about was inscribed by the Holy Spirit himself. Now the Holy Spirit is equated in Scripture with the finger of God. “But if I with the finger of God cast out devils, no doubt the kingdom of God is come upon you.” (Luke 11:20). “But if I cast out devils by the Spirit of God, then the kingdom of God is come unto you.” (Matt. 12:28).

But who inscribed the Ten Commandments on the tablets of stone?

“And he gave unto Moses, when he had made an end of communing with him upon mount Sinai, two tables of testimony, tables of stone, written with the finger of God” (Exodus 31:18; Dt. 9:10).

THE LETTER KILLS

So the problem with “letters that kill” is not the fact that they are letters. The letters written on our hearts are letters. And the problem with “these letters that kill” is not who wrote them. The Spirit is the one who wrote them on the tablets of stone. The difficulty is where the letters are written. When they are written on stone, external to the sinner, they do nothing but condemn, and the truer they are, the more condemnation they bring. When the law is “out there,” the law is my adversary.

So the external letter kills, but the Spirit brings life. But one of the things the Spirit brings life to is the letter. He does this by inscribing His letters on the human heart.

There are two fundamental features of the new covenant, the covenant that occupies such a large part of Paul’s argument here. Jeremiah’s promise of the new covenant is quoted in full in Hebrews 8 (Heb. 8:8-12; Jer. 31:31-34). But when it is quoted again two chapters later, the pull quotes highlight the two great features of the new covenant. They are, first, that the new covenant brings forgiveness of sin (Heb. 10:17), and second, the new covenant brings an internalization of the law (Heb. 10:16). And that’s what we are talking about here.

When God writes His law on our hearts, something remarkable happens. Not only is thou shalt love thy brother written on your heart, your brother is also written on your heart. Remember that Paul begins this section by saying that the Corinthians were written on his heart.

When the law is internalized, this brings the sinner to life. And when the law is internalized, this brings the letters to life. What happened to the handwriting of ordinances that was against us? God gathered them up and nailed them to the cross (Col. 2:14). But what happens to anything that is nailed to the cross of the Lord Jesus Christ? That is right—it rises from the dead. The only thing that doesn’t rise again is the sin itself. But the law? The condemnation? The black despair of never being good enough? The accusations? All of that is “nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more, praise the Lord, praise the Lord, oh, my soul.”

That law that used to condemn you is raised again with you, and is now your liberty, your refreshment, your pleasant instructor. His name is Jesus Christ.

Read Full Article

INTRODUCTION

One of the basic lessons of Scripture is the lesson of gospel inversion. Humility exalts. Servanthood rules. Death lives. The underdog triumphs. The back of the line is the front of the line. And it does not matter how many times we are taught this principle, we always have to learn it afresh every morning.

THE TEXT

“But if any have caused grief, he hath not grieved me, but in part: that I may not overcharge you all. Sufficient to such a man is this punishment, which was inflicted of many. So that contrariwise ye ought rather to forgive him, and comfort him, lest perhaps such a one should be swallowed up with overmuch sorrow . . .” (2 Cor. 2:5–17).

SUMMARY OF THE TEXT

To stay oriented, in the scenario that we are assuming here, the man that Paul is urging forgiveness for here in these verses is the man who led the rebellion against Paul in the congregation at Corinth. It is not the incestuous man who took his stepmother in 1 Corinthians.

So Paul begins by saying that if someone has caused grief, it was mostly to the church, and not to him personally (v. 5). There had apparently been a vote in which the majority came back to Paul, and inflicted punishment on this ringleader and troublemaker. Paul says that this action was sufficient (v. 6). He then urges the church to forgive and comfort this man, lest he be overwhelmed (v. 7). The rebels against Moses had been swallowed up (Num. 16:31-34), but the rebel against Paul was not to suffer that fate. Reaffirm your love for him, Paul says (v. 8). Paul wrote them in order to test them. Now that they had passed the test, it was time for forgiveness (vv. 9-10)—and the requirement to forgive was yet another test. Paul agrees to forgive anything that they forgive, in the presence of Christ, lest Satan take advantage and stir up even more acrimony (v. 11). You all must forgive (Col. 3:12-13). Satan’s wiles in this are many—he throws fiery darts and he hands out candies.

After Titus had been sent off to Corinth with the hot letter, Paul went to Troas (north of Ephesus, toward Macedonia), and the door for ministry there was wide open (v. 12). But because Titus was not there with any news, Paul went on to Macedonia (v. 13). And after an agonizing wait there (2 Cor. 7:5-7), he eventually got the good news back from Corinth, and so he breaks into a very different kind of exultation—and it is quite a strange one. God leads Paul in triumph in Christ, and diffuses knowledge of Himself like a fragrance (v. 14). Paul’s band was the fragrance of Christ, to both the saved and the perishing (v. 15). One of them reacts to it like it was the smell of death upon death, and the other as though it were life upon life (v. 16). Who is sufficient for these things (v. 16)? The answer is no one. This is the measurement of authentic ministry—our theme, remember (v. 17)? Paul does not hawk or peddle the gospel of God, like others do, but rather speaks sincerely in the sight of God in Christ (v. 17).

TRIUMPHAL PROCESSION

Paul takes a custom of the Romans, the triumphal procession, and works it into a striking metaphor. When a victorious general was given a triumph, he led the parade in a chariot drawn by horses, and sometimes by elephants. He was clothed in purple, and held an eagle-crowned scepter. His face was colored red, to evoke the name and power of Jupiter. There were musicians, and pagan priests burning fragrant incense that wafted over the crowd, and mountains of treasure, and prows of ships, and a horde of prisoners in native costume bringing up the rear—who were all then executed at the conclusion of the parade. This is what God did to the principalities and powers (Col. 2:15).

But in his use of the metaphor, Paul occupies an unexpected spot. He is at the end of the procession. He is one of the prisoners, one led by God in triumphal procession. He is not the conquering general, but rather God is that general, and Paul is the captive. One of the themes of this epistle is that authentic ministry is characterized by suffering. “Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body” (2 Cor. 4:10). “As unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and, behold, we live; as chastened, and not killed” (2 Cor. 6:9). Paul knew what it was to die daily in ministry (1 Cor. 15:31).

THE GOSPEL IS NOT AVAILABLE FOR $19.95

When Paul says here that he does not “peddle” the Word of God (v. 17), the original word has the connotation of hucksterism—a merchant with his thumb on the scale, a wine merchant who cuts his product with a little water. The sinner is not shopping for an attractive salvation, one that is arranged nicely in the shop window, and reasonably priced. No, the thing is free, and to many of the passers-by, it stinks. Nevertheless, this is the message that will conquer the world. Who is sufficient for these things? And nevertheless this message preached by impotent and suffering messengers is profoundly potent. For the carnally minded, the real mystery is why this itinerant minister, pelted with rocks everywhere he went, was going to have cathedrals named after him.

THE AUTHORITY OF FORGIVENESS

So the apostolic band takes a pounding, and is dragged along behind the procession, in the sight of a gawking crowd. Paul takes the lead in dealing with this dishonor, and it is one of the great mysteries of the gospel as to why this is so inexorably attractive. It exudes an aroma—to the elect the aroma of life, and to the godless the aroma of death. In search of the answer to that question, we come back to the beginning of this passage, where Paul is requiring the Corinthians to forgive the man who had led the revolt against him. Forgiveness—everyone in this messed up world needs it. Forgiveness—apart from grace, everyone in this messed up world hates it. This is the radicalism of the cross. This is the salvation of Christ, and the way of Christ.

Read Full Article

INTRODUCTION

Christ must be worshiped by us as the ultimate yes, but we must come to understand how this works rightly. God does not come down and make promises to us directly. Rather, He makes promises throughout all Scripture, promises that are given generally to His people, and also to individuals (like Abraham) who are covenant representatives of His people. These promises are bestowed on the people of God, and as we read these promises, or hear of them, we join together with those people, identifying with them by faith, and God joins us to them through the imputation of Christ’s righteousness, using that same God-given faith of ours as His instrument for doing so. What is our relationship to the promises then?

THE TEXT

“For our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, we have had our conversation in the world, and more abundantly to you-ward. For we write none other things unto you, than what ye read or acknowledge; and I trust ye shall acknowledge even to the end; As also ye have acknowledged us in part, that we are your rejoicing, even as ye also are ours in the day of the Lord Jesus. And in this confidence I was minded to come unto you before, that ye might have a second benefit; And to pass by you into Macedonia, and to come again out of Macedonia unto you, and of you to be brought on my way toward Judaea . . . ” (2 Cor. 1:12–2:4).

SUMMARY OF THE TEXT

Remember the context. Paul’s severe letter has quelled the rebellion against him at Corinth, but there is still some clean-up to do. There is still some residue of resistance to him there, and so he begins to address specific charges. He starts the process by rejoicing in the fact that his conscience is clear (v. 12), both toward the outside world and toward the Corinthians. Authentic ministry is described as being not in accord with “fleshly wisdom,” and as characterized by simplicity and sincerity. Paul is writing them with what they should already know (v. 13). They have acknowledged that in the day of Christ, both Paul and they will be engaged in mutual rejoicing. But they have only come part way along, which is why this clean-up is necessary (v. 14). And then we get to the complaint he is answering. Paul’s previous intention had been to visit them on the way to Macedonia, and then again on the way back, going to Judea (vv. 15-16). He changed his mind and wrote the severe letter instead. But was he vacillating or temporizing in this? Not at all (vv. 17-18). He reminds them that the gospel of Christ that he preached to them, along with Timothy and Silvanus, was not a “yes and no” gospel (v. 19). For all the promises of God are “yes” and “amen,” to the glory of God, “by us” (v. 20). He reminds them that God was the one who joined them all together through His anointing (v. 21). The sealing work of the Spirit, and the earnest payment of the Spirit was God’s gift (v. 22). In this context, Paul then gives the reason he had not come to them—he did not want to be their disciplinarian in person (v. 23). His more appropriate role was to be “helpers of their joy,” and not wielding dominion over their faith—because it is by faith that we stand (v. 24).

So Paul had decided against another personal visit if it was going to be a heavy one (2 Cor. 2:1). If he becomes a grief to the Corinthians, then who will be there to make him glad (v. 2)? And so he wrote to them instead, in order to preserve their relationship (v. 3), and his choice had clearly been wise. And he tells them here that his severe letter had been written in turmoil and anguish, and not in order to grieve them, but rather it was a testament to how much he loved them (v. 4).

CARPING CRITICISM

Once a revolt against authority is under way, whatever that authority does will be seized upon and rolled into the argument. If Paul had gone left, he would have been assailed for not going right. If he had gone right, he would have been pilloried for not going left. Remember that apostolic ministry is personal, and Paul reminds them how unambiguous his declaration of the gospel had been.

A temporizing traveler is going to be a temporizing man, and a temporizing man is going to sound like one in the pulpit. Paul’s argument here is not an argument of deflection. It is not as though he is charged with embezzling funds (as he probably actually was—1 Cor. 16:1-4; 2 Cor. 11: 7-10, 12:16-17), and he then tried to respond with “isn’t the gospel grand!?” No. It is possible for the gospel to be glorious, and for a particular preacher to be a skunk.

What Paul is arguing here is that the charges against him are not plausible, and that the kind of sneakiness he was being charged with was not consistent with what the Corinthians knew about him. He is not defending himself with an abstract gospel in the sky, but rather with a potent gospel as preached on the ground. God had brought glory down through him(v. 20), and the Corinthians had been there when it happened.

But Paul is not defending his own person or guarding his own fragile ego. If somebody wants to gather up some glory for himself, but leaves the truth alone, Paul doesn’t mind (Phil. 1:15-18). But he will fiercely defend himself if the target of the slander is the ministry and message itself—see both this letter and Galatians.

A HARD AND SEVERE PERSON?

When roused, Paul could be hard as nails. When the gospel was at stake, he could be immoveable (Gal. 1:8). He had been hard on the Corinthians in his severe letter (2 Cor. 2:2,4), but this had been much against his personal desire or inclination. There is a school of pastoral care that could be characterized as the “hang ‘em high” school of thought, with “why not now?” as the immediate afterthought. Paul did not belong to this school of thought.

YES AND AMEN

The apostle Paul here exults in the true nature of gospel light. Christ is the yes of God. Sin is the no of the devil. The devil is the accuser, the devil is the killjoy, the devil is the one telling you how awful you are—with no relief in sight. The Spirit convicts in order that He may comfort. The devil accuses in order that he may bite and tear.

So Christ is therefore ultimate yes—the only yes that sinners can have.

Read Full Article