1. A Puzzling Formula
The opening paragraphs of 2 Corinthians present a fascinating and frustrating puzzle for modern readers of the letter. Having commenced the letter with a greeting (1.1–2) and a eulogy (1.3–7), Paul continues in v. 8 with an expression which half a century of epistolary criticism has taught us to label as a ‘disclosure formula’ (οὐ γὰρ θέλομεν ὑμᾶς ἀγνοεῖν, ἀδελφοί …),Footnote 1 but which is followed in the succeeding verses with so little by way of disclosure. Having assured the Corinthians that he ‘[does] not want [them] to be unaware’ about the affliction that he has experienced, he goes on to tell them almost nothing about the concrete details of the events to which he is referring, leaving commentators going back as far as Tertullian to speculate about what they might have been.Footnote 2
Alongside the perennial enigma of the nature of the events to which Paul is referring – which is probably best regarded as insoluble, given the thinness of the information that Paul provides – there is another puzzle, accentuated by the categories of the modern epistolary critics, which has to do with the rhetoric of the text and the function of the ‘disclosure formula’ at this point in the letter: if Paul is not going to tell the Corinthians the story of what transpired in Asia, why does he refer to it at all, and assert that he ‘do[es] not want the Corinthians to be unaware’ of it?
2. Proposed Solutions
The majority of commentators assume or argue (sometimes on the basis of the ‘disclosure formula’ in 1.8a)Footnote 3 that the story of Paul's sufferings in Asia is news to the Corinthians.Footnote 4 Where they address the question of why the account in vv. 8–11 is so empty of concrete details, they tend to offer one of two main explanations.
The first explanation commonly offered is the argument that Paul is interested only in the inner meaning of the events and not in the outwardly visible phenomena, or that he has deliberately left out the details so that they do not get in the way of the theological point he wants to make.Footnote 5 Victor Furnish, for example, suggests that any inclusion of the details of the circumstances to which Paul is referring would have ‘detracted from … Paul's real concern’, and contrasts Paul's rhetorical strategy with that of the letter to Aristobulus in 2 Macc 1.10–2.18, in which (according to Furnish) ‘the opening thanksgiving (1:11) and the closing blessing (1:17) are largely overshadowed by the narrative report of the circumstances of the deliverance which stands in between’.Footnote 6
There is a grain of truth to this argument: Paul's emphasis in 1.3–11 certainly falls on the theological significance of the events to which he is referring (v. 9), and on their capacity to serve as a paradigm for his own future experiences (v. 10) and those of others (cf. vv. 4–7). But the story of Paul's experiences in Asia could still have had this paradigmatic function without the Corinthians needing to be kept altogether in the dark about the outward circumstances of the events themselves,Footnote 7 and Paul shows no sign of any such divorce between the concrete details of events and their theological and existential significance in the immediately following chapters of the letter (1.15–2.13).
In fairness to Furnish, it should be conceded that there is one occasion elsewhere in canonical 2 Corinthians (12.2–9) where Paul refers to past experiences in a cryptic and symbolic manner, but in that instance the highly charged rhetorical context of the ‘boasting contest’ suggests obvious reasons for Paul's circumspect language, and Paul himself comments at some length in 12.2–6 on the peculiarity of his veiled and elliptic communication. Within 1.8–11 and its immediate context, Paul offers no indication that considerations of that sort apply.
Alongside or, in some instances, in place of this first suggested explanation, a second explanation some commentators have offered is the suggestion that the letter-carrier could have been intended to supply the concrete details that Paul leaves out.Footnote 8 Once again, there is some plausibility to this proposal; ancient convention would have been consistent with the expectation that the letter-carrier might supply additional details about the circumstances behind the letter, as required.Footnote 9 But there is still a certain awkwardness in accounting for why Paul would allude to the incident at such a rhetorically prominent point of the letter,Footnote 10 then leave it to the letter-carrier to provide the real news, without any mention of the letter-carrier or any suggestion that this is what he is doing.
Because of the difficulties involved in such explanations, a number of commentators have proposed an alternative scenario in which the facts were already known, at least in part, by the Corinthians, and that the new information Paul is providing has to do not with the basic outline of the facts but with the intensity or severity of the experience.Footnote 11 Others, pushing a little further in this direction, have proposed that in all likelihood the Corinthians already knew the full story about the events and their severity, and that Paul is raising the subject not to add information but to offer a perspective on the events and an interpretation of them.Footnote 12
An approach of this sort has the advantage of offering an elegantly simple explanation of why Paul does not feel the need to relate the details of the events to which he is referring. Nor (contra Furnish) can it easily be brushed aside by pointing out the presence of the ‘disclosure formula’ at the start of the verse; as Schmeller points out, the expression in v. 8a (and other ‘disclosure formula’ expressions like γνωρίζω … ὑμῖν in Gal 1.11 and 1 Cor 15.1) can be used within Paul's letters without any necessary implication that the information that follows is news to the readers – in the case of 1 Cor 15.1, that is explicitly and emphatically not the case.Footnote 13
But an argument that the expression Paul uses in 1.8a does not necessarily function to introduce new information does not in itself constitute an explanation of how the expression does function within the epistolary and rhetorical strategy of the letter. And whichever approach is taken to the question of whether the contents of 1.8–11 are news to the Corinthians, there remains the question of why Paul raises the issue of his affliction in Asia at this point in the letter, placing such emphasis on it, and then (it seems) abandons it so quickly for the seemingly unrelated questions of transparency and travel plans.
3. The Rhetorical and Epistolary Function of 1.8a
The question of the rhetorical and epistolary function of 1.8a can be answered, in part, quite easily: v. 8a functions to introduce vv. 8–11, and vv. 8–11, in turn, function to provide a particular instance of the fellowship in suffering and comfort for which Paul has blessed God in the eulogy of vv. 3–7.Footnote 14 The more intriguing and difficult part of the question is the relationship between vv. 8–11 and vv. 12–14, and (more broadly) the function of vv. 8–11 within the whole of chapters 1–7.
How important these questions are depends, in part at least, on the relative strength of the disjunction between vv. 3–7 and vv. 8–11 and the disjunction between vv. 8–11 and vv. 12–14, and the related question of the point at which the prooemium concludes and the letter body commences.
According to some commentators, the presence of the ‘disclosure formula’ in v. 8a is a signal that this is the commencement of the letter body;Footnote 15 others argue that the letter body commences in v. 12, and treat vv. 8–11 as an elaboration on the eulogy of vv. 3–7 (or as the conclusion of a thanksgiving period that runs from v. 3 to v. 11, or a bridge between the eulogy and the commencement of the letter body).Footnote 16 Jack Sanders' proposal sits somewhat awkwardly astride both of these approaches:
Paul evidently concludes the theme of the eulogiac period in vs. 7 and proceeds to the opening of the letter via an account of his own sufferings and the appropriate formula (vss. 8 ff.). He is under compulsion, however, to include a hodaya (thanksgiving) at the opening of the letter, to have some more formal conclusion to the period, and to conclude the period with an eschatological climax; consequently, he moves from an account of his sufferings to an eschatological motif (end of vs. 9 and following), and concludes with the ‘inverted’ thanksgiving. Then (vs. 12) he begins the body of the letter anew.Footnote 17
Both approaches have their difficulties. As is frequently pointed out, the ‘disclosure formula’ of v. 8a is far from an infallible marker of the commencement of the letter body in Paul's letters (cf. 1 Cor 10.1; 12.1; Rom 11.25; 1 Thess 4.13); nor, on the other hand, is the mention of the ‘thanksgiving’ of many in v. 11 enough to justify squeezing vv. 8–11 into the mould of a Pauline thanksgiving or eulogy.
Whatever is decided about the point at which the letter body commences, two considerations should be granted as having a bearing on the function of vv. 8–11: first, that the form of words Paul uses in v. 8a, whilst not always signalling the beginning of the letter body, generally does mark a significant transition in the flow of thought; and second, that the syntax Paul uses (if we give full weight to the γάρ in v. 12 that is obscured by the ‘now’ or ‘indeed’ with which it is translated in the NIV and NRSV)Footnote 18 invites a reading of vv. 8–11 that connects the paragraph both with vv. 3–7 and with vv. 12–14. A reading that links vv. 8–11 closely with vv. 3–7 but cannot account for its connection with vv. 12–14 is, in that respect, a less satisfying interpretation of vv. 8–11 than one that can demonstrate its connections both with what precedes it and with what follows it in the letter.
One proposal concerning the rhetorical and epistolary function of vv. 8–11 that has been made by several commentators is that the disclosure of Paul's sufferings and the (implied) request for the Corinthians' prayers function, along with the preceding eulogy, to ‘establish a basis of mutuality’ between Paul and the Corinthians.Footnote 19 This proposal is grounded, in part, in John White's analysis of the way in which introductory disclosure formulae typically function within Greek letters:
Assuming that the general purpose of the body of the letter is to impart information, the function of the opening segment is to introduce the information. And the information is introduced, both in Paul and in the private Greek letter, in such a way – either by disclosing new information or by recalling previous communication of which both parties are cognizant – that a basis of mutuality is founded. Once the matter of mutual concern has been introduced, we may assume that the relevant details are carried forward in the main argument of the body of the letter.Footnote 20
As helpful as this proposal is – and vv. 3–11 certainly do carry a strong emphasis on mutuality of concern and an implied appeal for the Corinthians' good will – it is not without its weaknesses. White's stated assumption that ‘the general purpose of the body of the letter is to impart information’ is open to question even as a generalisation regarding the epistolary papyri, and certainly as a characterisation of 2 Corinthians. And if it is as a ‘matter of mutual concern’ between Paul and the Corinthians that Paul's sufferings are raised in 1.8–11, the rest of the letter (either in its full, canonical version or in the various shorter fragments into which it has been disassembled by the commentators)Footnote 21 does not suggest that the nature of the Corinthians' concern is entirely benevolent or sympathetic; Paul is raising a topic that is precisely one of the points at which his relationship with the Corinthians is under strain.Footnote 22 We are still left to wonder, too, why the issue is not ‘carried forward in the main argument of the body of the letter’ until we return to it in 2.14.
One commentator who gives serious consideration to the question of how vv. 8–11 function in relation to the immediately following paragraph and the apologia that follows is David Garland. He raises and dismisses the possibility that ‘Paul may bring up his recent afflictions as the excuse for his change of plans that so upset them’, concluding instead that ‘he relates this incident to unveil a theme that runs through chaps. 1–7. It has three components: his suffering as an apostle (2:14–17; 6:4–10; see also 11:23–29); how this suffering has driven him to rely completely on God and not himself (4:7–12; see also 12:7–10); and how this suffering will eventually result in his divine vindication (3:18; 4:14; 4:16–5:10; see 13:4).’Footnote 23 Garland's suggestion is a plausible one, and fits well with the content of 2.14–5.21. It still offers us little, however, that helps us understand the relationship between 1.8–11 and 1.12–2.13; we are left with the unanswered question of why Paul raises the issue of his sufferings, then darts off into a defence of his integrity and transparency, before returning at some length to the suffering issue in 2.14.Footnote 24
A third and more promising line of explanation is suggested by Anthony Harvey, in the context of a monograph exploring the impact of the events to which Paul refers in 1.8–11 within the development of Paul's theology. Harvey takes up Schlatter's proposal that the news of Paul's affliction in Asia was already known to the Corinthians and argues that if this was the case, then (given the Corinthians' attitudes towards weakness and suffering) ‘reports of the near-fatal episode recorded in 1.8 could have been at least one of the factors that brought … criticisms [of Paul's credibility and authority as an apostle] to a head’.Footnote 25 Furthermore, Harvey speculates, the severity of Paul's affliction (whatever it was) would likely have incapacitated him for a significant period of time, and necessitated a renegotiation of his travel plans and financial arrangements:
[Paul's] intention, then, was to come to Corinth and stay with the Christians there both on his way to and on his way from Macedonia, without making a charge on their hospitality. If, now, he had suffered a debilitating illness or an attack so crippling that he nearly died, this would have seemed to others to have been an almost laughable ambition. He could well have been accused of irresponsibility, foolishness, from the moment he began to entertain such a notion. This would have given to ἐλαφρία the meaning which the word seems usually to have borne, ‘foolish irresponsibility’.
Paul gives further precision to the criticism being made of him: his plans involve him saying ‘yes yes’ and ‘no no’ … He might, for example, have said ‘yes’ in response to an invitation to stay, ‘no’ to the question whether (as previously) he would pay his own expenses … Any such negotiation would have been contrary to Paul's declared intention to pay a visit gratis (a ‘favour’). Now that the Corinthians knew that in his present enfeebled condition he could not do this, they might well suspect him of having some arrière pensée or hidden agenda, and of intending to negotiate his keep with them when he arrived.Footnote 26
The precise content of Harvey's speculations is, as he readily admits, nothing more than guesswork. The main strengths of his proposal are in the likelihood that there would have been a connection of some sort (either in reality, or in the suspicions of the Corinthians) between the afflictions Paul suffered in Asia and the changes in his travel plans, and in the seriousness with which he takes the rhetorical and apologetic function of 1.8–11.Footnote 27
In the remainder of this article, I will take up Harvey's proposal and develop it in a slightly different direction, exploring its implications for the ‘disclosure formula’ of 1.8a, and for the connections between Paul's defence of his transparency in 1.15–2.13 and his apology for his sufferings in 2.14–5.21.
4. Rethinking the ‘Disclosure Formula’
As Harvey's speculations on the circumstances behind 1.8–11 highlight, the interpretation of Paul's sufferings that he offers in these verses is not spoken into a vacuum. If the story of Paul's experiences in Asia was already present in Corinth, it would have been present not in the form of raw, uninterpreted data, but in a form that combined an account of the facts (whether complete or incomplete, accurate or inaccurate) with an interpretation of one sort or another. In offering the Corinthians an interpretation of the events, Paul is presumably offering a counter-interpretation (or, at least, an alternative or supplementary interpretation) to the interpretation(s) already formed among the Corinthians.
In granting this much we are already stretching the category of the ‘disclosure formula’ out of shape a little from the way in which it is said to function in the analysis of the epistolary critics. If there is ‘information’ being supplied in vv. 8–11 it is information of a decidedly confessional nature, laced with interpretation, and supplied not so much to fill a gap in the Corinthians' knowledge as to offer a correction to the way in which they have read Paul and the latest chapter in his story.
Having focused our attention on the rhetorical function of v. 8a, and raised questions about the adequacy of the ‘disclosure formula’ category as a description of how the form of words Paul uses is operating within the context of the letter, it is worth enquiring into whether there is any rhetorical significance in the double negative construction that Paul employs – the fact that he writes not θέλομεν ὑμᾶς γινώσκειν but οὐ θέλομεν ὑμᾶς ἀγνοεῖν.
This question is generally passed over without comment in the discussions of the epistolary critics, implicitly dismissed as being without significance.Footnote 28 But when the ‘disclosure formulae’ that are used in Paul's letters are compared with those in the extant epistolary papyri, Paul's use of the double negative form (which he employs in Rom 1.13; 11.25; 1 Cor 10.1; 12.1; 1 Thess 4.13, as well as in 2 Cor 1.8) begins to look somewhat less stereotypical and formulaic than is generally assumed. A search of the Duke Databank of Documentary Papyri turns up nine examples of double negative expressions using ἀγνοεῖν,Footnote 29 one of which (P.Mich. i 6) is cited by White as ‘the only example of the double negative which I found elsewhere in the papyri’.Footnote 30 All nine of these instances, however, use the verb οἶμαι or πιστεύω (or, in the case of BGU xii 2173, the consecutive clause ὥστε τοίνυν μὴ ἀγνοεῖν σε τὴν αἰτίαν ...)Footnote 31 rather than θέλω or its equivalent.Footnote 32 The double negative form of the idiom, as it is found in the epistolary papyri, is used as a polite expression of confidence that a particular piece of information is (or ought to be) already known to the reader; there is not a single extant instance of the double negative form used with θέλω, as it is in Paul, to express the author's intention to make sure that the reader is not left in ignorance of something.Footnote 33
The extreme unusualness of the way in which Paul uses the double negative combination of οὐ θέλω (or οὐ θέλομεν) with ἀγνοεῖν suggests that there may be something more going on than merely stylistic variation on a standard epistolary formula. In one or two instances (e.g. Rom 1.13; 1 Thess 4.13) it is difficult to discern any possible rhetorical edge that is added to the expression by casting it in the double negative form. But in the majority of instances where Paul uses it, a very plausible case can be made that the double negative expression is intended to have a sharp rhetorical bite. In Rom 11.25, Paul is remedying his Gentile readers' ignorance ‘so that you may not claim to be wiser than you are’, and in 1 Cor 10.1 and 1 Cor 12.1 the expression is used in the context of a critique of the Corinthian elite's proud misuse of the γνῶσις in which they boast (cf. 1 Cor 8.1) and a humbling reminder of their former, pagan, ignorance (cf. 1 Cor 12.2: οἴδατε ὅτι ὅτε ἔθνη ἦτε ...).Footnote 34 Here in 2 Cor 1.8, the double negative formulation occurs in close proximity to the wordplay on the root γνω- in vv. 13–14, which Martin takes as suggesting that ‘Paul is accused of deliberate obscurity’ or ‘reproached for saying the opposite of what he had in mind’.Footnote 35 In the following chapter, too, the verb ἀγνοέω is used in relation to the crafty designs of Satan; to be ‘not ignorant’, in the context of 2 Cor 2.11, is to be undeceived – to be someone who is not the victim of subtle and covert schemes.Footnote 36
In the light of these considerations, I would argue that we are not over-reading the double negative construction Paul uses in 1.8a if we interpret it as functioning both to introduce the topic of Paul's afflictions in Asia and to express a disavowal of any attempt on his part to conceal them from the Corinthians.
If that is the case, then the transition from 1.8–11 to 1.12–14 can be read as a smooth and obvious one. Far from wanting to hide his shameful sufferings from the Corinthians (v. 8), Paul is eager for the Corinthians to know about them so that they can stand alongside him in prayer and thanksgiving (v. 11), for (γάρ) his boast is that he relates to all people, and supremely the Corinthians, ‘with holiness and godly sincerity, not by earthly wisdom but by the grace of God’ (v. 12);Footnote 37 this ‘holiness and godly sincerity’ includes, among other things, the transparency with which he represents himself to the Corinthians (v. 13; cf. v. 8a), which enables a mutuality of understanding in which he and the Corinthians can know and take pride in one another, in anticipation of the day of the Lord Jesus (v. 14).
5. Disclosure, Concealment and Sufferings in Chapters 1–7
If we read 2 Cor 1.8a in this way, as a disavowal of any attempt on Paul's part to conceal from the Corinthians the shameful sufferings that he had endured in Asia, then the two main burdens of 1.15–5.21 (Paul's defence of his transparency and his apology for his sufferings) are introduced together at the start of the letter, in a manner that encourages us to interpret them as closely interconnected themes.
Within 1.15–2.13, as Paul explains the vacillations in his travel plans and defends himself against suspicions of insincerity and untrustworthiness in his communications, there is admittedly nothing on the surface of the text that refers to the kind of afflictions that seem to be in view in 1.8–11. But if we are correct in postulating that the debilitating or disfiguring effects of Paul's sufferings may have been connected with the changes in his travel plans (either in reality or in the suspicions of the Corinthians), then the stories that the Corinthians had heard about Paul's experiences in Asia would have been powerfully present in the subtext of these paragraphs. Within 2.1–13, too, when Paul asserts the nature of the real reasons behind his decision to send a letter instead of visiting the Corinthians in person, and in 7.5–16 when he narrates the resolution of the scenario depicted in 2.1–13, his account makes noticeably heavy use of the language of ‘pain/sorrow/grief’, ‘distress’, ‘anguish’, ‘tears’, and ‘consolation’ (λύπη, θλῖψις, συνοχή, δάκρυα, παράκλησις). The God who is praised in 1.3–11 as ‘the God of all consolation, who consoles us in all our affliction’ is similarly referred to in 7.5–6 as ‘God, who consoles the downcast’; the painful tangle of circumstances that lies behind the narrative of 1.15–2.13 (cf. the description in 7.4) is closely connected in Paul's mind with the experiences of affliction and consolation to which he has earlier referred in 1.3–11.Footnote 38
If the themes of affliction and consolation are present within the defence of Paul's integrity that he offers in 1.15–2.13, the themes of transparency and integrity are also present within the apology for his sufferings that he presents in 2.14–5.21. In 2.14–17, as Paul returns explicitly to the theme of his missionary sufferings, the metaphors that he chooses to depict his afflictions (the ‘triumphal procession’ of v. 14 and the ‘aroma’ of vv. 15–16) both represent the issue as being one not merely of sufferings but of manifest sufferings, not secretly endured but publicly displayed to the world (φανεροῦντι ... ἐν παντὶ τόπῳ); he is quick, too, in v. 17, to connect these depictions with a renewed assertion that ‘we are not peddlers of God's word like so many; but in Christ we speak as persons of sincerity, as persons sent from God and standing in his presence’.
Similarly, in 4.1–18, the depiction of Paul and his fellow missionaries as ‘afflicted in every way … always carrying in the body the death of Jesus’ (vv. 8–10) is set within the context of an account of what is ‘made visible’ (φανερωθῇ) in their flesh (vv. 10–11), and is preceded by an emphatic insistence that ‘we have renounced the shameful things that one hides; we refuse to practise cunning or to falsify God's word; but by the open statement of the truth we commend ourselves to the conscience of everyone in the sight of God’ (v. 2). The ‘veil’ imagery of chapter 3 and 4.3–6 is also connected with this assertion of the transparency and ‘boldness’ (παρρησία, 3.12) of Paul and his fellow missionaries.
Thus, in 5.11–12, as Paul begins to draw together the threads of his apology and comments on its purpose, he describes the aim of the apology for his sufferings in 2.14–5.21 (to ‘giv[e] you an opportunity to boast about us, so that you may be able to answer those who boast in outward appearance and not in the heart’) in language that is an unmistakeable echo of the way in which he framed his boast of sincerity in 1.12–14. Paul's signal in 1.12 that he will defend himself in such a way as to expose the contrast between ‘earthly wisdom’ and ‘the grace of God’ introduces a motif that recurs throughout the defence of his ministry that he mounts in chapters 1–5,Footnote 39 partly in the form of direct references to thinking and behaviour that is κατὰ σάρκα (1.17; 5.16) and partly in the form of a series of οὐκ ... ἀλλά and μὴ ... ἀλλά contrasts that accomplish a similar function (e.g. 3.1–3;Footnote 40 4.5, 18; 5.12). This repudiation and critique of ‘fleshly wisdom’ is integral to the way in which he mounts both his apology for his sufferings and his defence of his transparency and integrity, tying them closely together.
Finally, in chapters 6–7, when Paul turns from defending his ministry to making an explicit appeal for reconciliation with the Corinthians,Footnote 41 the themes of suffering and transparency continue to be closely connected within his rhetoric. Thus, the catalogue of 6.4–10 focuses not only on ‘great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labours, sleepless nights [and] hunger’ (vv. 4–5), but also on ‘purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, truthful speech, and the power of God’ (vv. 6–7). It is followed in vv. 11–13 by an emphatic reassertion of the openness of Paul's communication with the Corinthians, which is echoed, in turn, in the renewed appeal of 7.2–4, where the themes of integrity, transparency and suffering once more converge.Footnote 42 The closing paragraphs of this section of the letter (7.5–16), as we have already seen, take up the threads of Paul's narrative in 1.15–2.13, tying together that section's defence of Paul's integrity in his decision-making and communication concerning his travel plans with the language of ‘affliction’, ‘comfort’ and ‘consolation’ that pervades 7.5–16.
6. Conclusion
There are, therefore, good reasons to read Paul's expression in 2 Cor 1.8a as doing somewhat more rhetorical work than the conventional ‘disclosure formula’ classification would imply. If we grant my hypothesis that the double negative expression that Paul uses is intended not only to introduce the topic of his experiences in Asia but also to disavow any desire on his part to keep the Corinthians ignorant of these events, then it is possible to trace a clear line of continuity through the eulogy of 1.3–7, Paul's reference to his affliction in 1.8–11, his boast in 1.12–14, his defence of his integrity in 1.15–2.13, his apology for his sufferings in 2.14–5.21 and his appeal for reconciliation in 6.1–7.16. On this reading, the themes of disclosure, concealment and suffering are closely interconnected within the entire argument of chapters 1–7, and each of these themes needs to be interpreted in relation to the others.