Answering Fools (2 Corinthians 11:16–33)

We learned previously that outsiders were threatening the welfare of the Corinthian church. These spiritual “authorities” were actually dangerous spiritual pretenders; messengers of Satan dressed up to look like angels of light. To change the metaphor, they were grievous wolves who had set out to devour the flock of God in Achaea, Southern Greece.

These wolves were slandering Paul in an attempt to draw away the flock from his influence, thus threatening their Christ-centred joy (1:24). Paul writes to put an end to this nonsense. And to do so, he follows the counsel of Proverbs 26:4–5: “Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest you be like him. Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his own eyes.”

When you consider this proverb you might ask, “So which is it? Should we answer a fool? Or should we not answer a fool?” And, of course, the answer is, “Yes!”

There are times in the life of the church when silence is golden and there are times when silence dangerous. That is, there are times when foolishness and fools should be ignored. To address them is to merely invite needless disturbance. But there are other times when foolishness and fools do need to be addressed in the church. Fools need to be answered when the gospel is at stake and when the biblical health of the church is at stake. Such was the case in Corinth.

Though there is a lot that we do not know about the Corinthian context, we have sufficient information to help us to take seriously this ubiquitous existential threat to God’s churches, including in 2025. For this reason, it is important that we pay close attention to this passage in which Paul, driven by pastoral concern, answers fools.

Perhaps some of us are like the man who, after talking non-stop about himself to his friend, said, “Enough of me talking about me; now it’s your turn to talk about me!” Apparently, these pastoral pretenders were like this self-impressed and self-obsessed braggart. Pathetically, some of the Corinthian church was okay with it. In fact, they were more than okay with it. Paul was not. And therefore, out of his deep concern for the church, he does what he hates—he talks about himself. He does so simply because it was high time to answer fools. We will study this passage under three major headings.

Paul’s boasting was strategic:

Since some in the church were foolishly judging the pretenders to be the real deal, Paul decided that, in a sarcastic sense, if you can’t beat them, join them (v. 16).

The pastoral pretenders were fond of boasting about themselves and playing to public applause. They loved being in the green room at big conferences. They deemed themselves so gifted that they could demand lucrative speaking fees, and everyone wanted to have a selfie with them. Their prominence gave them clout by which they could get away with bossing and bullying those under their influence. And apparently these people loved to have it so. As Jesus characterised such, they loved the praise of men more than the praise of God (10:18; see John 12:43). In a word, they were fools.

Paul, on the other hand, because he lived for the praise of God (10:17), had no interest in either self-commendation or public praise. Yet, sometimes, desperate situations call for desperate measures; sometimes, like fighting a forest fire, a controlled fire can be used against a fire that is out of control.

Therefore Paul here uses the controlled burn of answering fools according to their folly to extinguish their church-consuming destructive fire of falsehood.

As a faithful shepherd, Paul was doing the hard thing, the humiliating thing, even the risky thing in order to protect the sheep from being burned by these apostolic pretenders.

While denying that he was foolishly commending himself (“let no one think me foolish”), he confesses that he was willing to be momentarily misunderstood as he “boasted a little.” But lest the Corinthians get the wrong idea, he immediately provides the caveat that he did not recommend this (17)! Paul is saying, “This foolish boasting in which I am entering is not in accord with either the character or example or teaching of the Lord Jesus.”

Jesus taught that worldly leaders practice self-promotion in their quest for greatness but his followers must not do so, for Jesus himself did not do this (Philippians 2:5–8). So why is Paul ignoring this as indicated by his words, “Since many boast according to the flesh, I too will boast” (v. 18)? He is using sarcasm and irony, for what he will boast in has nothing in common with the false apostles. Paul is setting up a brilliant strategy in which he will boast in a most unusual, a most counter-cultural, in fact, a most biblical way, thereby exposing the fraudsters and guarding the flock.

Having said that, like the pretenders, he will play the fool, Paul sarcastically implies that this puts him in a position in which the church should listen to him for, after all, they are so “wise” that they “gladly bear with fools” (v. 19). Paul then increases both the heat and the sarcasm.

With the strategic use of a verbal knife, he plunges the serrated edge. seeking to reveal the horrific way that the pretenders treat the church. And the Corinthians were tolerating this intolerable treatment.

They enslaved the Corinthians with false teaching and by unbiblically binding consciences. They devoured them, probably referring to financial abuse. They took advantage of them. They treated them with arrogant contempt, and they even physically assaulted them (see Acts 23:2 with 1 Timothy 3:3; Titus 1:7). They falsely mimicked apostolic authority (1 Corinthians 4:11).

There is something perverse in human nature that entertains abusive authority. Perhaps it is due to the fear of man. Perhaps it is because of skewed ideas about the value of self-flagellation. Often, it is because of false teaching. Godly authority builds up; it does not destroy (see 1 Corinthians 3:10–16).

Beware the “heresy hunters” and the “scandalisers,” who tear down under the guise of “edifying.” Beware those who seek to tear you away from your shepherds while fleecing you in the process.

The intensity of Paul’s sarcasm mounts in v. 21: “To my shame, I must say, we were too weak to enslave you, to devour you, to kidnap you, to treat you with contempt including slapping you across the face!” Paul wants them to compare the way he treated them with how the pretenders did so. He loved and cared for their welfare, whereas the pretenders merely used them for their own benefit. The point should be sinking in, hopefully, at this point.

As a related aside, children, young people, stop comparing your parents with those who are merely using you for their own purposes. “If you would only listen to me, I would make your life so much better.” Parents, pay attention to the influence of your kids teachers.

Having commenced his “foolishness,” Paul continues with specific examples comparing the pretenders with his own pattern of life and ministry.

He compares status, service, and suffering. The latter is the most surprising element in the mix. Whereas the pretenders viewed suffering as evidence of Paul’s disqualification, he viewed it as perhaps the qualification. This is not surprising to those who live in the shadow of the cross, for Jesus said that, if we suffer with him, we will also reign with him. Paul’s ministry was vindicated by sharing in the sufferings of Christ. This is only surprising to those who are clueless about the cross. It is surprising to those who have another Jesus, another spirit, and another gospel.

Though Paul would not dare compare himself with the abusive behaviour of the pretenders, he felt quite at liberty to compare his “pedigree” or “lineage” (vv. 21b–22). It is obvious that the interlopers questioned Paul’s “Jewishness” and thus his authenticity as an apostle, his authenticity concerning his standing in the church of Jerusalem (where they most likely came from). So Paul begins by making clear that no one can dismiss him based on his ethnicity and his fidelity to the Abrahamic covenant. (Perhaps the interlopers were Judaisers and thus the different gospel the preached [11:4]). Regardless, Paul stood on the same ground ethnically (see Philippians 3:1–5). Whether pedigree (Hebrew), privilege (Israelite), or promise (offspring of Abraham), Paul was their equal.

“Servants of Christ” (v. 23) doubtless refers to the pretenders’ claim to be authentic apostles of by Christ, recognised and authorised by the church in Jerusalem. Paul boldly, yet uncomfortably (“I am talking like a madman”) declares that he is a better one (i.e. “hyper” apostle).

Is this arrogant? Not in light of the larger context. Paul is simply comparing authenticity (see 1 Corinthians 15:10) with illegitimacy. But what follows shows in what way Paul was a better servant. To the pretenders, this would be a non-argument. It would be surprising to the foolish; surprising to those who have no true understanding of the message of the cross.

If someone is going to boast that they are a “hyper-servant of Christ” one would expect a list of the number of churches planted, the number of conversions, the number of books written, the number of people discipled and trained for the ministry. Yet none of that follows in vv. 23b–29. Though the words “with far greater labours” creates an expectation of such a list, Paul nevertheless immediately heads into a different direction: downward! Pretty much everything Paul says from this point is deeply counterintuitive for the Graeco-Roman worldview, which the false apostles emulated. And which our resume obsessed culture—even in the church—also too often aspires.

Imagine this scenario.

You are interviewing the next possible pastor-teacher. His CV reads like this: He works hard but is often in trouble with the law. He misses a lot of meetings because he is either in jail or is recovering from beatings. In fact, on five different occasions, he came within one lash of being permanently disabled. On top of that, he is so hated that people have thrown stones at him, one time leaving him presumed dead. And, by the way, he is so scarred that he is not much to look at.

The guy travels quite a lot, admittedly for ministry, but he seems to bring bad luck with him because he is often shipwrecked and one time he almost drowned. People therefore tend to avoid him and, in fact, we have heard that some of his travelling partners have deserted him.

Wherever he goes, peril follows him. Whether on the sea or even on a river boat. Whether in the city or in the wilderness the guy is always in some kind of danger. Robbers attack him. Pagans oppose him and so do those of his own people. He seems to attract heretics who oppose him and his work. The churches he plants are often attacked by false teachers. Trouble follows this guy like a bad coin.

He is a very hard worker, working to the point of exhaustion. Some might even call him a workaholic. Further, he doesn’t sleep so well and therefore he often looks tired with dark bags under his eyes. As for his physique, he is not much to look at, with all the scars from stones and whips and rods, but he is also a skinny guy, often looking either he has not eaten in a while. And as for his wardrobe? He certainly couldn’t be accused of reading John Molloy’s 1970’s bestseller Dress for Success. It’s actually a wonder he doesn’t freeze to death with those threadbare clothes.

Another thing you should know is that he is often carrying a lot of stress. He is constantly under a lot of pressure. He takes seriously his responsibility for the churches that he has planted and been a part of. Though he is joyful, nevertheless, he often looks burdened. Sometimes he seems preoccupied and he walks with stooped shoulders.

He is a serious-minded man who seems to have an affinity for the weak in the church. When they stumble, he feels their pain and is quick to come to their defence against those who trip them up. Beware: Though he is self-controlled, nevertheless his nostrils can flair when he sees church members tripped up by the arrogant, insensitive, and self-righteous critics.

And one final thing: Though the applicant did not include this last point, nevertheless, we have been informed, at a recent pastors’ fraternal, he reminded the elders of the church at Ephesus that, for three years, he had not ceased to instruct them with tears. So keep in mind, in addition to all the above, this man cries a lot.

So, if this CV were to be presented to our congregation, would we want to appoint such a man as our pastor-teacher? It depends on our value system.

If our worldview is informed by Madison Avenue, Paris, and London, then probably not. If the cross of Christ has been eclipsed by the “here and now,” then no way. If we are impressed with that which is “fallen and fading”; if we have embraced the lies of those proclaiming what Luther called a “theology of glory” (all is wonderful this side of our resurrection), then, no, we would reject the applicant.

But, if our worldview is informed by Scripture, we will endorse such a pastoral applicant with a hearty “Amen!”

Pastors who embrace suffering are pastors who should be embraced. Would-be spiritual leaders that reject taking up their cross, rejecting suffering with and for Jesus and his church, should be rejected. Like these “super-apostles.” Like these false apostles. Like those today who turn their backs on the message of Christ’s cross.

What criteria do we use to assess commitment to Christ and spiritual maturity? What criteria do we use to assess the faithfulness of a church? Are we wise or foolish? Do we use the metric of cross or the metric of the world?

Finally, we see that Paul’s boasting was shameless.

Some are of the view that this section belongs to the section commencing with 12:1. I can understand that. But while these verses can be viewed as an introduction to what follows, they also serve as a summary of what Paul has just written.

The key word is “weakness.” This word is the theme of the entire epistle and Paul begins to press home this theme.

The false (foolish) apostles boasted—took pride in—those things that showed them powerful and influential and successful. Paul, on the contrary. would only boast in the Lord (1 Corinthians 1:31; 2 Corinthians 10:17). And the best way to do that is to highlight otherwise impossible situations that only the Lord could redeem.

Paul’s dependence upon the Sovereign rather than upon self resulted in a ministry that God “owned” and in which he was glorified. Paul’s suffering was because of his faithfulness in a world of wickedness. Though weak against the world, Paul was strong in the Lord. Though, in the world’s eyes, he looked like a failed weakling—and therefore he was assessed to be a fool—in God’s eyes he was a wise because faithful worshipper. Paul therefore calls God as his witness to his weakness and to God’s faithfulness (v. 31).

With God as his witness, Paul now turns to another example that highlights his life of witness amid his weakness.

South Africans love the word “shame.” It is perhaps the most multi-purposed word in our vocabulary! When a person dies, we say, “Shame.” When a baby is born we joyfully say, “Shame”. And often, when we have nothing meaningful to add to a conversation, we vainly say, “Shame.” I am using the word “shame” in a similar ambiguous way. Let me first explain what Paul is referring to in these verses.

Paul’s conversion happened on his way to Damascus, where he was in pursuit of Christians whom he planned to have arrested and put to death. The martyrdom of Stephen stoked his fury to annihilate the church (Acts 7:1–8:3). But on the way, he met the Way, the Truth, and the Life—and the Light! He was confronted by the Lord Jesus Christ (Acts 9:1–7). Once he arrived in Damascus, he was further evangelised and discipled by Ananias (9:8–19). Paul the persecutor became Paul the preacher (9:20–22), which stirred up murderous opposition (9:23). He and his fellow Christians therefore planned for his escape (9:23–24).

But why does Paul raise this here, almost as an “add on”? For two reasons.

First, Paul is highlighting that, contrary to the message and ministry of the foolish false-apostles, his life and ministry was marked by identifying with the sufferings of Jesus. This, in fact, was made known to him in Damascus (Acts 9:15–16).

Paul is simply saying, “None of what I have written is uncharacteristic, for suffering is my norm. The false apostles mock me for suffering, but they should be careful, for Jesus appointed me for this.” I might add that this is the path for all true ministers of the gospel (see 2 Timothy 2:12; 3:12).

Paul’s ministry began with peril and continued with peril. He was persecuted by heretical, vicious religious leaders at the beginning of his Christian life and this continued. Yes, this shameful opposition was part and parcel of his life as a faithful minister. Fools will deny this; the wise will willingly embrace it. Our “Damascus conversion” put us on the path of conflict and suffering. This is the way of the cross.

Second, Paul refers to Damascus because it highlights his weakness. He had fled by being let down by a wall in a basket tied to a rope—not a particularly flattering posture. For the sophisticated interlopers, this appeared ridiculous, if not cowardly. It appeared to be a very weak response.

Paul is saying, “I am no superhero. I would not be sought to play Ethan Hunt in the next Mission Impossible!” Paul shares this account for the sake of humiliation rather than personal exultation.

I wonder if perhaps Paul’s critics had used this account to label him a coward. If so, then perhaps Paul was meeting them on their own turf. While not admitting he was a coward (his record belied that), nevertheless, he used this criticism as a means of illustrating his weakness to exult Christ’s strength. In other words, “Yes, it is true. I was in a basket in that ridiculous scene. I escaped danger with the help of others. I am nothing special. Yet Jesus is. Look at how he used me after that escape—to God be the glory, great things he has done!”

The interlopers, of course, had no such story. They looked pretty good. After all, if you take no risks then you suffer no shame; you suffer no loss. But it is also true that where nothing is ventured, nothing is gained.

Paul has concluded this part of his “foolishness.” (But stay tuned for chapter 12.) If the Corinthians were paying attention, they would realise how foolish they had been to follow the false apostles. They had been foolish to embrace a triumphalistic, superficial, and worldly version of the gospel, which was actually a different gospel than the one Paul preached and they believed (11:4; 1 Corinthians 15:1–2). They, therefore need to repent of their folly. And perhaps so do you.

Are you refusing to follow Jesus by taking up your cross, embracing a life of suffering? Are you consumed with avoiding suffering for Jesus? Is that why you never speak of Jesus at school, at work, to your friends and neighbours? Is your worldview, your value system determined by Scripture or by the world?

Are you being poisoned by outsiders? Are you dismissive of faithful ministers of the gospel because influenced by the shameless? If so, enough already! Repent of such foolishness and join with those who are workers for your joy (1:24).

Non-Christian, I would be foolish to promise you a life of ease if you repent and follow Jesus. To follow Jesus will bring troubles. But it will deliver you from the greatest trouble: the wrath of God. But being reconciled to him provides you with the promise of his presence and power to face whatever troubles you encounter after your “Damascus.” Call upon Christ today and he will save you.

AMEN