2 Corinthians 1:1-11

God’s comfort

(1:1-2) “Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and Timothy our brother, to the church of God which is at Corinth with all the saints who are throughout Achaia: ² Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”

Per usual, Paul points out that he is an apostle of Christ Jesus by God’s choosing, not by his own initiative. Timothy had experience ministering in Corinth (Acts 18:5, 1 Cor. 4:17; 16:10-11, 2 Cor. 1:19), so his association with Paul in this greeting is more than a mere formality. The Corinthians knew Timothy well.

The authors wrote this letter to the church in the city of Corinth, but also to the surrounding region of Achaia (e.g. Corinth, Cenchreae and Athens). This is in modern-day southern Greece.

Why did they mention Achaia instead of just Corinth? It’s quite possible that this was a jab at Corinthian pride. Paul could be subtly reminding them that they aren’t the center of the universe—let alone the greater region of Achaia. After all, the Corinthians were given to “arrogance and self-sufficiency and may think that the spiritual world revolves around them.”[] Paul is telling them to grow a broader perspective beyond themselves. Furthermore, the greater region of Achaia was poor, while Corinth was largely wealthy. This sets up his argument for financial giving in chapters 8-9.

Paul’s theology of suffering

(1:3) “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort.”

“Blessed be” (eulogetos) doesn’t contain a verb. This is expressing what is already true of God.[]

“The Father of mercies.” Paul opens his discussion about suffering by describing God’s abundant “mercies” (oiktirmōn). Jesus tells us to be merciful because “your Father is merciful” (Lk. 6:36; cf. Rom. 9:15), and Paul connects our dedication to Christ based on the “mercies of God” (Rom. 12:1). Kruse comments, “The apostle uses both the noun, ‘mercy’, and the verb, ‘to have mercy’, more than any other writer in the New Testament, and this reflects how important the mercy of God was to him.”[]

Comfort is not an anesthetic. The comfort Paul is describing is not a “tranquilizing dose of grace that only dulls pains but a stiffening agent that fortifies one in heart, mind, and soul.”[]

Comfort is not removal from painful circumstances. God doesn’t promise to protect us from all pain. But he does promise to comfort us in all our suffering. In the first-century world, people would only thank the gods for good circumstances. Cicero (1^st c. BC Roman statesman) wrote that a man only thanked the gods “because he was rich, because he was honored, because he was safe and sound. They call Jupiter Best and Greatest because of these things: not because he makes us just, temperate and wise, but safe, secure, opulent, and well-supplied” (Cicero, De Natura Deorum 3.36, 87).

Comfort is not a sappy, sentimental notion. Indeed, the English term “comfort” has “gone soft in modern English.”[] The English word “comfort” comes from two Latin words that mean “with” (com) and “strength” (fortis).[] (Think of the words “fortify” or “forte.”) The Greek term “comfort” (paraklēsis) literally means to “come alongside” or to “encourage.” It is an “act of emboldening another in belief or course of action” (BDAG, p.766). This same term is applied to the Holy Spirit, who is our “Comforter” (Jn. 14:26).

Divine comfort would be a foreign idea to the original audience. We take for granted the notion that God cares about us, but this idea was quite foreign to the Greco-Roman world. The finite deities of the Greek pantheon were as capricious as they were apathetic.[] Pliny the Elder (1^st c. Stoic) wrote, “that [a] supreme being, whatever it be, pays heed to human affairs is a ridiculous notion” (Pliny, Natural History 2.5.20).

(1:4) “[God] comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”

“[God] comforts us.” This truth carried Paul through the darkest days of his life. Now, he is sharing these life-altering spiritual realities with the Corinthians. As Paul makes clear, he had suffered deeply (2 Cor. 1:8-10; 4:7-12; 11:23-29). And yet, he just as forcefully tells us that God was there to comfort him (Acts 18:9-11; 2 Cor. 12:8-10).

“All our affliction… any affliction” (thlipsis). This is a key word in this letter. For Paul, it carries the concept of “pressure felt inwardly resulting from difficult outward circumstances usually associated with Christian ministry and witness in the face of hostility.”[] Thus, it could refer to outward pain (2 Cor. 1:8; 4:8; Rom. 8:35) or inward heartache (2 Cor. 7:5; Phil. 1:17). The source of all comfort in the midst of all troubles is God Himself. This universal language covers any and every form of hardship or suffering.

“We will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction.” God works in us, so that he can work through us. God gave the comfort into Paul’s life, so that he could give it out through Paul to others. Billy Graham wrote, “God doesn’t comfort us to make us comfortable, but to make us comforters.”[]

(1:5) “For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ.”

“The sufferings of Christ are ours.” We suffer in the same way that Jesus suffered. If he suffered shamefully at the Cross, we should expect nothing better than the treatment he received.

Christ’s personal encouragement is directly correlated by the amount of suffering that we endure for him. The more we suffer, the more he strengthens. During times of suffering, we discover that we are able to withstand far more than we ever dared to imagine. We experience strength, encouragement, and courage that our world knows nothing about.

“Just as… so also.” When do we receive God’s comfort the most? Paul received it when he had “no rest” and was “afflicted on every side” with “conflicts without” and “fears within” (2 Cor. 7:5).

(1:6) “But if we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; or if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which is effective in the patient enduring of the same sufferings which we also suffer.”

“If we are afflicted… If we are comforted.” Regardless of the circumstances, Paul taught that his life was to result in “your comfort.” Whether it was “affliction” he experienced or “comfort,” Paul had an inexpressible focus on others—not himself. The reason God allowed suffering or encouragement was for Paul to bring comfort to the Corinthians. When we suffer, we don’t always know how God will use this for the good in the future (Rom. 8:28). However, we can always bank on the fact that God will use this suffering in our lives to “comfort” others.

(1:7) “Our hope for you is firmly grounded, knowing that as you are sharers of our sufferings, so also you are sharers of our comfort.”

Paul was not only willing to live a life of suffering, but he really believed that it was worth it to see the Corinthians suffering alongside him. If the comfort of Christ was true for Paul, then it was true for the Corinthians too. Surely this experience of sharing in suffering bonded Paul together with many of the Corinthians like soldiers fighting together in a war.

Paul’s personal example of suffering

(1:8) “For we do not want you to be unaware, brethren, of our affliction which came to us in Asia, that we were burdened excessively, beyond our strength, so that we despaired even of life.”

What “affliction” is Paul referring to? This suffering in “Asia” refers to Asia Minor (or modern-day Turkey), where Ephesus was the capital city. Commentators have suggested several different speculations:

• Illness? This doesn’t seem to fit, because the word for “affliction” (thlipsis) is “rarely used to describe illness.”[]

• Satan? Paul later brings up a “messenger of Satan” who was sent to “torment” him (2 Cor. 12:7). However, this doesn’t seem to be the context for this suffering.

• Persecutors? We hold to this final view. Paul is likely thinking of persecution of some kind. Some commentators connect this persecution with what Paul mentioned in Ephesus (1 Cor. 15:30-32). Yet, Paul writes about this persecution as though he hadn’t told them already (“We do not want you to be unaware…”). Perhaps an additional Ephesian persecution is in view (?).

Was this persecution the mob that attacked Paul’s friends in Acts 19? Barnett[] lines up this persecution (1 Cor. 15:30-32) with the riot in Ephesus (Acts 19). However, we disagree. Paul wasn’t taken captive by the mob (Acts 19:30), and no one was ultimately harmed (Acts 19:41). Paul had faced far more dangerous and real harms than this (2 Cor. 11:23-28), and this event in Acts 19 can hardly qualify as tantamount with those others.

Kruse argues[] that there could’ve been a much more extended and fierce persecution in Ephesus, because Paul brings up the attacks of the Jewish people later (Acts 20:19; 21:27; 2 Cor. 11:26). We simply aren’t sure. Paul might have felt that it was better to keep the affliction out of print. If the persecutors read about themselves in this letter, it could have led to even more persecution for Paul, the Corinthians, or others.

“We were burdened excessively, beyond our strength, so that we despaired even of life.” Many say God will not give us more than we can handle. Not true! Just go ahead and reread this verse. In fact, this is precisely what God allowed Paul to experience. Instead of saying, “God will not give us more than we can handle,” it would be more accurate to say, “God will not give us more than He can handle.” Garland writes, “It was beyond his strength to endure but not beyond God’s grace to fortify him or God’s power to deliver him.”[] Paul endured more suffering than he could handle on his own, yet not more than he could bear with God’s power. Those who have experienced God’s power during suffering will never forget it. They seem to be carried through times of trial. Looking back, they have no natural explanation for how they persevered.

(1:9) “Indeed, we had the sentence of death within ourselves so that we would not trust in ourselves, but in God who raises the dead.”

“The sentence of death within ourselves.” The “sentence of death” was not a judicial verdict from a legal authority (contra John Calvin[]). This sentence was “within” them. This is probably the “subjective experience”[] that they were in a deadly situation.[] Earlier, Paul used similar imagery of the apostles who were men “condemned to death” (1 Cor. 4:9).

“So that we would not trust in ourselves, but in God who raises the dead.” The human condition is biased and inclined to trust in ourselves, rather than God. Suffering teaches us to depend on God in a unique way. We can’t make this happen (as we can when we choose to serve, read the Bible, or pray). Instead, we need to capitalize on these situations as they arise. When suffering enters our lives, do we ask ourselves, “How can I change the circumstances as quickly as possible to mitigate this suffering?” Or do we ask, “How can I agree with God through this experience? What is God trying to teach me through this experience?”

(1:10) “[God] delivered us from so great a peril of death, and will deliver us, He on whom we have set our hope. And He will yet deliver us.”

Paul saw God come through for him in the past, and so he was confident of God coming through in the future. When we walk with God throughout the years, we can form an ongoing record of his faithfulness. Reflecting on God’s past interventions and God’s future promises leads to us to have present confidence. This leads to a lack of worry. After all, we will either be rescued from death (by his intervention), or God will rescue us through death (in the resurrection). Either way, we are safe when we are in God’s will.

(1:11 NLT) “And you are helping us by praying for us. Then many people will give thanks because God has graciously answered so many prayers for our safety.”

“Helping us” (sunupourgeo) is a compound word that fuses three Greek terms: “with” + “under” + “work.”[] By praying for Paul, the Corinthians were doing the work underneath him, and consequently, building him up.

Paul was giving the credit to others for their prayers—not his own strength. In other words, if you asked Paul why he was such a powerful and influential leader for Christ, he would’ve pointed at the people who prayed for him (cf. Rom. 15:30-32; Eph. 6:18-19; Phil. 1:19; Col. 4:3; 1 Thess. 5:25; 2 Thess. 3:1; Phile. 22).

Questions for Reflection

According to this passage, what is our role when we go through suffering? What is God’s role?

What do we learn about how to suffer well from this section?

When we suffer, we need to relate to God based on his “mercies” (v.3). People often make many assertions and even accusations against God when they suffer: “This isn’t fair!” or “Why do bad things happen to innocent people?” We have no intention of giving a full response to the problem of evil and suffering (and neither did Paul). However, the opening word “mercies” sheds considerable light on the subject.

What exactly do you think that you deserve from God? What can you demand of God? What do you have to negotiate with? The answer to all of these questions is, “Nothing.” We’re like a criminal who was caught red-handed, trying to negotiate a plea deal. Or a person negotiating with the owner of a beach by giving a grain of sand.

We can either have justice, or we can have mercy. We can have one or the other, but we cannot have both.

“I want mercy.” If we choose this option, then we can no longer stand on what we “deserve.” Mercy isn’t based on what we deserve.

“I want justice.” Ah, it’s justice that you want? As a moral violator of God and others, you deserve complete and exhaustive judgment. If you choose this option, you get a one-way ticket to hell. Any single moment that you aren’t being exhaustively judged for your moral violations, you are experiencing mercy—not justice. Indeed, when you appeal to justice, you lose everything!

Many people (most people?) can’t seem to grasp this simple, yet deep, concept. Yet, when I understand this concept:

• I realize that every single day is a mercy of God.

• I stop asking for what I deserve, because I realize that I’ve been living off mercy every second of every day for my entire life.

• I stop demanding that God would fulfill my expectations, because demanding anything presupposes that I deserve something.

• I stop comparing my circumstances to others, because I realize that neither of us deserves anything from God.

• I stop negotiating with God, because I realize I have nothing to bargain with.

• I stop being bitter and complaining, because I know that anything good in my life is a gift.

• I start to get closer to God, because I begin to focus on the wealth of good things in my life, rather than the bad—which is utterly disproportionate.

• I start to pray big prayers, because I realize that God is far more loving than I can imagine.

We (rightly) critique health and wealth teachers, recognizing that God is not our cosmic butler who will pamper us. At the same time, what does it imply when we place expectations on God to lead a relatively good life? We might actually be closer to the health and wealth teacher than to the biblical view.

God wants to personally comfort you (vv.3-7). Jesus shows up to the degree that we suffer (v.5). If you are in the middle of acute suffering, you can pray, “God, would you personally encourage me today?” The remarkable reality is that God will answer this prayer every time. He will give you the courage that you need to face the suffering ahead of you.

God wants you to personally comfort others (v.4, 6). When we suffer, we often ask ourselves, “How is God going to use this in my life?” Perhaps this is the wrong question. Or at the very least, it is far too narrow. Through his suffering, Paul had learned that God had worked in his life for the sake of others—not himself. Indeed, at this very moment, Paul was enduring deep anguish and stress. Yet, he was able to honestly tell people that he was still thriving with God, because of God’s comfort. This is one of the reasons that we withstand suffering: We care about others. If we flake out, it will have an effect on others around us.

God wants us to call other people into a life of suffering (v.7). These truths aren’t just subjectively true for me. They are objectively true for everyone. Consequently, when we call others into a life of following Christ, the experience brings us close together in our friendships as few other experiences can.

God wants us to exhaust our self-effort (v.8). God will wait until we give up. We can have our best impact when we feel like we’re at our worst. Do you feel like you’re ready to quit? You’re at the end? You keep trying, where you tried everything? This is the point where you can experience the power of God. And not a moment before. The place of defeat is the beginning of the victory. God is waiting for you to wear out and give up. As we grow with God, we gain more experience, training, and knowledge. But we never gain more adequacy. Even as we grow, we learn to trust less and less in ourselves, and more and more in God’s power (Jn. 15:5).

What suffering have you experienced that you wouldn’t take away in hindsight?

Why is suffering such a uniquely powerful way for us to grow spiritually? Why is this able to draw us closer to God than almost any other avenue?