2 Corinthians 10:5

Chapter 10 marks a clear change in the letter. The first nine chapters speak of reconciliation, of comfort in suffering and of the collection for the saints in Jerusalem. From here to the end of chapter 13 Paul defends his apostolic authority and his character against influential people in the church who were undermining him, and he prepares the Corinthians for a visit at which he may have to discipline. Verse 1 sets out the whole tension at once: Paul seems weak in person and bold in writing.

Corinth was a prominent Roman city, a centre of trade and Greek culture, and it prized rhetoric, philosophical debate and impressive public speaking. Paul’s opponents, often called the “super-apostles” or “false apostles”, fitted those ideals well. They were probably Jewish Christians, possibly from Jerusalem, and they boasted of their eloquence, their commendations and their spiritual experiences. They found fault with Paul’s speaking, with his unassuming presence and with his refusal to take financial support from the Corinthians, which they twisted into a sign that he was no true apostle. Their charge is quoted a few verses later: “For his letters, say they, are weighty and powerful; but his bodily presence is weak, and his speech contemptible” (2 Corinthians 10:10).

Paul had already told this church that his preaching came “not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power”, so that their faith would stand “in the power of God” (1 Corinthians 2:4–5, 2:1–5). He had reminded them that God chooses the weak things of the world (1 Corinthians 1:26–31) and that the preaching of the cross, foolishness to the world, is the power and wisdom of God (1 Corinthians 1:18–25). In a city that judged by outward show, an appeal to meekness and gentleness went against the grain, and that is exactly where Paul begins.

“Now I Paul myself” is as personal as Paul can make it. He puts his own name and authority behind what follows, and then rests the whole appeal on the character of Christ. The verb for “beseech”, parakaléō, means to call someone near, to invite or implore, and it is also used of comforting. Paul is making an earnest plea, and even in confrontation he speaks as a pastor who wants to persuade.

He appeals by two qualities of Christ. Meekness, praiótēs, comes from práos and means gentleness and, by implication, humility. In classical Greek práos could describe a wild horse that had been tamed, still powerful but under control. Meekness is strength held in check, a humble disposition submitted to God’s will and considerate of others. Gentleness, epieíkeia, means suitableness, equity, mildness and clemency. It is the fairness and reasonableness of someone ready to yield and be lenient where he could stand on his strict rights. Together the two words describe a leader who is gracious and understanding even when firm action is required.

These are the marks of Jesus himself. “I am meek and lowly in heart,” he says (Matthew 11:29), and he came to Jerusalem as the King foretold, “lowly, and riding upon an ass” (Zechariah 9:9). Though he had all divine authority, he “made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant” (Philippians 2:7, 2:5–8). His lowliness led to a cross that looked like defeat and was the greatest display of God’s power and wisdom, “because the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men” (1 Corinthians 1:25). It ended in resurrection and exaltation, when he said, “All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth” (Matthew 28:18). Paul’s ministry follows the same pattern, and he will say it plainly before this letter ends, when the Lord tells him, “my strength is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9–10).

In verse 2 Paul pleads again, and his request is that he will find no need to be bold when he arrives. The “confidence” he speaks of, pepoíthēsis, is his assurance of the authority Christ has given him, and he is fully prepared to use it. What he wants is for the Corinthians to respond to his appeals beforehand, so that stern measures prove unnecessary. He says the same at the close of the letter: “Therefore I write these things being absent, lest being present I should use sharpness, according to the power which the Lord hath given me to edification, and not to destruction” (2 Corinthians 13:10).

The verb “think”, logízomai, appears twice in the verse. It means to take an inventory, to estimate, reckon or suppose. Paul “thinks”, that is, reckons and intends, to be bold against some, and those same people “think”, that is, reckon, that he walks after the flesh. Two judgments stand against each other, and Paul is correcting a false assessment of himself. His warning is aimed at “some”, the particular people who were opposing him and dividing the church, and the rest of the church he hopes to win by persuasion.

Verse 3 turns the accusation on the word “flesh”. To “walk”, peripatéō, is literally to tread all around, and figuratively to live and conduct oneself. Paul freely admits that he and his companions walk in the flesh. They are embodied human beings who share every frailty and limitation that other people have, and he makes no claim to be anything more.

To “war”, strateúomai, is to serve in a military campaign. The word was also used figuratively for carrying out the hard duties of an apostle and for contending with carnal inclinations. “After” is katá again, meaning “according to” or “in the manner of”. So Paul’s existence is human, and his methods, principles and source of power come from God. Human wisdom, worldly strategy, manipulation and self-promotion are the very things he refuses to fight with. Paul sets out the same contrast in Romans, between the mind set on the flesh and the mind set on the Spirit (Romans 8:5–8), and warns, “For if ye live after the flesh, ye shall die: but if ye through the Spirit do mortify the deeds of the body, ye shall live” (Romans 8:13).

With this verse the language of war begins, and it runs to the end of verse 6. Ministry is a campaign, and the real enemy stands behind the human opponents: “For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places” (Ephesians 6:12). For that reason Paul tells believers to put on the whole armour of God (Ephesians 6:11–12). Knowing who the real adversary is lets us meet people who oppose us with grace and truth, and keeps human anger and worldly tactics out of our hands.

Jesus lived this verse perfectly. “The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us” (John 1:14), and he knew hunger, temptation and suffering. When Satan offered him all the kingdoms of the world for a single act of worship, he refused (Matthew 4:8–10), and he told Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36). He conquered sin and death by his atoning death on the cross and his resurrection, and those who fight for his kingdom follow his way.

Verse 4 is printed in the KJV in brackets, as an explanation of the warfare just mentioned. The weapons, hóplon, are implements or tools, especially those used in offensive war. The warfare, strateía, is military service or a campaign, which Paul applies to his whole apostolic career as a demanding and dangerous struggle. Both are “not carnal”, and sarkikós means belonging to the flesh: bodily, temporal and, by implication, unregenerate. Paul is turning down the very standards his critics used to judge him, from eloquence for its own sake to physical force.

The weapons are “mighty”, dynatós, which means powerful and capable, and they are mighty “through God”. Their power belongs to him and works through them, which is why they can do what no human means can. Among them are prayer, the Word of God, faith, righteousness and the proclamation of the gospel. Carnal weapons look like manipulation, worldly politics, human aggression, clever marketing in place of faithful preaching, or reliance on personal charisma where the Spirit’s power is needed. The Christian life is a real battle against a real enemy, which is why Peter says, “Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour” (1 Peter 5:8).

Verse 5 says what the weapons do. “Casting down”, kathairéō, is formed from katá, down, and hairéomai, to take, and it means to lower, pull down or demolish, the way a fortified wall is torn down. What is cast down first is “imaginations”, logismós. The word comes from logízomai, the verb Paul used twice in verse 2, and it means reasonings, calculations and arguments. These are deliberate systems of thought, often proud and self-sufficient, that reach conclusions contrary to what God has revealed. Paul has just used the same root for his critics’ reckoning that he walks after the flesh, and their reasoning is among the arguments his weapons bring down.

Next comes “every high thing”, hypsoma, anything lifted up or elevated, which carries the sense of arrogance and of a barrier set in the way. It “exalteth itself against the knowledge of God”, gnōseōs tou Theou. That reaches past single thoughts to every system of thought, philosophy, cultural story or personal bias that rises up in defiance of the truth God has made known. That knowledge is revealed above all in Christ, “the image of the invisible God” (Colossians 1:15), who is over all things (Colossians 1:15–20).

Then the image changes from a siege to a march of prisoners. “Bringing into captivity”, aichmalōtízō, means to take a prisoner of war and lead him away. Roman campaigns besieged and demolished fortified cities and took their defenders captive, so Paul’s readers knew the picture well. What is taken captive is “every thought”, pan noēma, and no area of the mind is left out. It is led “to the obedience of Christ”, eis tēn hypakoēn tou Christou, into conformity with his will, his truth and his lordship. The aim is a mind transformed and set free, as Jesus promised: “And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free” (John 8:31–32). Christ himself had a mind wholly given over to the Father’s will, even to death on the cross, and Paul tells us to let that same mind be in us (Philippians 2:5–8).

Verse 6 closes the campaign. “Having in a readiness”, en hétoimō, describes a state of preparedness, like a soldier awaiting the order. To “revenge”, ekdikéō, means to vindicate, retaliate or punish. “Disobedience”, parakoḗ, is literally inattention, a refusal to listen, and so a refusal to obey authoritative teaching, here the teaching of Christ through his apostle. Paul speaks of “all disobedience”, pâs parakoḗ, so his authority reaches every act of rebellion in the church.

The timing is given by “when”, hótan, a condition still to be met. Paul will act once “your obedience”, hypakoḗ, “is fulfilled”. The verb plēróō means to make full, literally to cram a net or level up a hollow, and figuratively to finish a task. The Corinthians’ obedience is to be brought to its full measure and shown plainly, and then Paul will deal with those who remain defiant.

These verses show us how to weigh spiritual leaders, others and ourselves alike. The Corinthians judged by presence and polish, and Paul points them to the meekness and gentleness of Christ. When we look for strength in a pastor, or in our own service, Christ’s character is the measure, and God’s power is often perfected in what looks weak.

They show us what to fight with. We live in bodies, with all their limits, and the battles that matter most are spiritual. Prayer, Scripture, faith, righteousness and the gospel are mighty through God. Where we are tempted to win by pressure or cleverness, we can lay those down and trust the weapons he gives.

They show us where the battle is fought. Every thought belongs to Christ, and the arguments in our own minds that rise against the knowledge of God can be brought down and led captive to him. That is daily work, and it ends in freedom.

And they show us how to correct others. Paul is ready to act, but he waits and pleads first, giving room for repentance and aiming always at building up. Gentleness and firmness both belong to Christ, and both can belong to us.