2 Corinthians 11:16–21

2 Corinthians 11:16 — "Let no one think me foolish; but if so, receive me as foolish" Paul opens with a double-edged request that is itself a rhetorical masterstroke. He does not want to be identified with the boasting "super-apostles" (cf. 11:5) who have invaded the Corinthian church. Yet he knows he must meet them on their chosen ground. The Greek word for "foolish" here is aphron (ἄφρων) — literally, one without a mind or sound judgment. Paul will use this word repeatedly through chapter 12, constructing what scholars call the "Fool's Speech" (peristaseis katalogos). His request that they "receive" him as foolish echoes the ancient custom of granting a jester or satirist a temporary license to speak outrageously. The irony is already thick: Paul, the most theologically profound mind in the early Church, is applying for the status of court fool.

2 Corinthians 11:17 — "That which I speak, I don't speak according to the Lord" This is one of the most carefully qualified sentences in the Pauline corpus. Paul does not say he is lying or sinning; he says his mode of discourse — competitive boasting — is not the normative apostolic pattern modeled by Christ (cf. Phil 2:5–8). The Lord did not commend Himself; He emptied Himself. Paul is acutely aware that even rhetorically necessary self-praise is a concession to fallen human categories of honor and shame. He speaks hōs en aphrosynē ("as in foolishness") — the phrase marks what follows as a controlled performance of a role he finds distasteful. For a man who elsewhere insists he "proclaims not himself but Christ Jesus as Lord" (2 Cor 4:5), this momentary first-person spotlight burns.

2 Corinthians 11:18 — "Seeing that many boast after the flesh, I will also boast" "Boasting after the flesh" (kata sarka) does not merely mean pride; in Pauline theology, "flesh" (sarx) designates the entire order of human existence and achievement apart from God's grace — lineage, eloquence, social standing, apostolic credentials understood as personal trophies. The rivals have been trafficking in exactly these currencies. Paul's move here is judo-like: he will use their own weapon against them, but with a crucial twist. When he finally "boasts," it will be in his weaknesses (11:30, 12:9–10), entirely subverting the genre.

2 Corinthians 11:19 — "You bear with the foolish gladly, being wise" This verse drips with sarcasm — one of the most cutting uses of irony in the New Testament. The Corinthians pride themselves on wisdom (sophoi este — "you being wise"), a pointed echo of Paul's earlier rebuke in 1 Corinthians 4:10 ("We are fools for Christ's sake, but you are wise in Christ"). The word anechesthe ("you bear with") is the same word used for patient endurance of hardship. Paul is saying: you heroically endure fools — so surely you can endure me for a moment. But the praise is savage in its implication: their "wisdom" has in fact made them credulous rather than discerning.

2 Corinthians 11:20 — "You bear with a man if he brings you into bondage… devours you… takes you captive… exalts himself… strikes you on the face" This catalogue of abuses is one of the most visceral passages in Paul's letters. The five verbs escalate dramatically: katadouloō (enslaves), katesthiō (devours/consumes), lambanō (seizes/exploits financially), epairetai (lords it over), and eis prosōpon hymas derei (strikes you on the face — possibly literal). These are not rhetorical flourishes; they describe a pattern of spiritual and possibly physical domination that the Corinthians have meekly accepted from the interloping "super-apostles." The contrast with Paul is devastating: he refused even financial support from them (11:7–9) so as not to burden them, and they repaid his tenderness with suspicion while submitting to men who beat them. The verb devours (katesthiō) evokes Ezekiel 34's condemnation of false shepherds who "eat the fat" and "slaughter the sheep" (Ez 34:3) rather than care for them.

2 Corinthians 11:21 — "To my shame, I speak as though we had been weak" Paul's "shame" (atimia) is ironic and also genuinely tender. He is ashamed that the situation has come to this — that his own gentleness with them has been misread as weakness, while their oppressors have been read as strength. The phrase "as though we had been weak" suggests the Corinthians have in fact made this accusation. He then pivots to his boast: "In whatever way anyone is bold — I am bold also." The word tolmaō (to dare, to be bold) appears here not as recklessness but as the courageous resolve of a pastor who will not abandon his flock to wolves, even if defending them requires temporarily playing the wolf's game.

Catholic tradition offers several illuminating lenses for this passage. First, the Church's teaching on apostolic authority and authentic pastoral ministry is directly implicated. The Catechism teaches that genuine pastors serve "after the example of Christ, who came not to be served but to serve" (CCC 876). Paul's anguish in these verses is a living icon of that principle: his authority is authenticated precisely by his refusal to exploit it, making his reluctant boast the opposite of the rivals' eager self-promotion.

St. John Chrysostom, in his Homilies on Second Corinthians, notes that Paul's irony here is an act of charity toward weak consciences: "He does not boast as if boasting were right, but he uses the medicine suited to their disease." Chrysostom identifies the Corinthians' fault not as naivety but as disordered judgment about greatness — they have confused domination with authority, which remains a perennial danger in ecclesial life.

St. Augustine, drawing on this passage in De Doctrina Christiana, observes that Paul models a crucial rhetorical principle: a preacher may use worldly conventions of speech only instrumentally, and only when the audience's spiritual welfare demands it. The moment Paul says "I do not speak according to the Lord," he performs in real time the virtue of humility of intellect, subjecting even his rhetorical strategy to conscience.

Pope Benedict XVI, in Jesus of Nazareth, reflects on the Pauline contrast between "boasting according to the flesh" and "boasting in the Lord" (1 Cor 1:31), noting that Christian identity is not a human achievement to display but a gift to receive. The "fool's speech" thus anticipates the Beatitudes' logic: those who appear weak before the world are the ones through whom God's power is made visible (cf. 1 Cor 1:27–29).

The passage also illuminates the Catholic understanding of charism and office: the genuine apostle is known not by rhetorical dominance but by sacrificial love — the very criterion by which false prophets are unmasked (Mt 7:15–20).

Contemporary Catholics encounter this passage at a moment when the Church is navigating serious questions about the abuse of pastoral authority. Paul's chilling catalogue in verse 20 — enslavement, exploitation, domination, physical violence — forces the question: how do communities come to tolerate spiritual abuse? Paul's answer is uncomfortable: when the congregation has miscalibrated its criteria for leadership, valuing displays of power over the quiet, costly love of a genuine shepherd.

For the ordinary Catholic, this passage invites a concrete examination of conscience on two fronts. First, how do I recognize legitimate authority? The Church teaches that true shepherds are identified by service and sacrifice, not dominance. A confessor, spiritual director, or parish leader who exploits, controls, or diminishes those in their care is exhibiting the pattern Paul condemns here — and we are not required to "bear with" them gladly.

Second, Paul's willingness to risk appearing foolish for his people asks how far I am willing to go in charity for those in my care — whether as a parent, a catechist, a deacon, or a friend. Sometimes love requires setting aside our dignity and "playing the fool" by saying the difficult, even socially awkward thing, rather than retreating into polished, self-protective silence.