On His Majesty’s Secret Service:

The Undercover Ēthos of Paul

 

Mark D. Given

Missouri State University

 

Character (ēthos) is an important factor in rhetoric, sometimes the most important.

— George A. Kennedy[1]

 

This is how one should regard us: as assistants of Christ and administrators of God’s secret plans. 

— Paul[2]

 

As part of a description of his “mission” (diakonia) in 2 Cor 6:3-10, Paul says that “in every way we establish ourselves as agents of God” (v. 4a), including “through weapons of rectification for the right hand and the left, through honor and dishonor, through defamation and affirmation” (v. 7b-8a).  Later,[3] he uses combat imagery with even more force: “For though we walk about in the flesh, we are not fighting in a fleshly manner.  For the weapons of our warfare are not fleshly, but have power with God to demolish strongholds, demolishing arguments and every towering fortress erected against the knowledge of God, and taking captive every thought to the obedience of Christ” (2 Cor 10:4-5).  And, as we see from the continuation of the passage in 2 Cor 6, Paul’s modus operandi (ēthos)[4] for establishing himself as an agent of God “in every way” gives him a rather paradoxical appearance: “as deceivers, yet true;[5] as unknown, yet well known; as dying yet behold we live; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything” (vv. 8b-10).  And since he establishes himself “in every way,”  we can hardly be surprised that, like many agents, he is also a master of disguise.  He becomes a Jew to Jews, a proselyte to proselytes, a Gentile to Gentiles, weak to the weak, even all things to everyone (1 Cor 9:19-23).[6]

Such passages describe some of the wily weapons of an undercover mission “profile” (ēthos) used by Paul to infiltrate and destroy the strongholds of  “the god of this world” (2 Cor 10:4).[7]  But why all the subterfuge?  Why not the classically more honorable direct frontal attack?[8]  Why must there be an element of secrecy to his service?  To answer these questions we must, on the one hand, comprehend and take seriously how suspiciously Paul viewed his world, and, on the other hand, recognize just how similar Paul’s deployment of the “weapons of rhetoric” was to the prevailing practices of his day.  What we need is a more fully apocalyptic and, at the same time, more fully rhetorical perspective on Paul.[9] 

 

Paul: Conspiracy Theorist and Counterespionage Agent

Paul was a fully commissioned operative in a hostile world filled with intentional ambiguity, cryptic cunning, and diabolical deception.  Scholars refer to such a worldview as apocalypticism, but since this term is so heavily laden with religious connotations in biblical scholarship, we would do well to find a less explicitly religious analogy from time to time, especially since for Paul there was no neat separation between the sacred and secular realms.[10]  A modern world view that often blurs the sacred and the secular in a way similar to ancient apocalypticism is conspiracism, and it is within the framework of this conceptuality that I will describe aspects of Paul’s worldview here.  By no means am I suggesting that ancient apocalypticism and modern conspiracism are a perfect match, but, as we will see, the similarities can be rather fascinating:     

 

[Conspiracy] theories usually contain three basic elements: a powerful, evil, and clandestine group that aspires to global hegemony; dupes and agents who extend the group’s influence around the world so that it is on the verge of succeeding; and a valiant but embattled group that urgently needs help to stave off catastrophe.[11]

 

In an apocalyptic conspiracy theory the first element is a group of evil spiritual powers which under various names in ancient Judaism equate to Satan and his angels, while the second element consists of their human counterparts.   Ancient mythical explanations vary for why these beings are here, but the apocalypticist has no doubt that the forces of evil appear to have the upper hand in this world and would like to achieve total hegemony.[12]  Wittingly or unwittingly, humans carry out the plans of the evil powers.  The third element group is the apocalypticists themselves.  Their help not only comes from other (s)elect recruits like themselves, but ultimately from good spiritual powers, God and his angels. 

Did Paul really see life in such dramatic and demonic terms?  And, if so, can this aspect of his thought still be dismissed as non-essential (adiaphora) for understanding the ēthos he embodies and promotes?  Perhaps a reminder of the pervasiveness of Paul’s apocalypticism is necessary and worthwhile since some interpreters all too quickly marginalize, domesticate, or even totally ignore this dimension of Paul—some even intentionally.  For example, Troels Engberg-Pedersen forthrightly labels the “rediscovery . . . of Paul’s apocalyptic frame of reference” by Käsemann and others “a deplorable development.” [13]  But to ignore or diminish Paul’s apocalypticism, including his apocalyptic conspiracy theories, is to create conditions under which all aspects of Paul’s theology and rhetor(eth)ic will be seriously distorted since its presence is all pervasive.  The rest of this section will highlight the conspiracy aspects of Paul’s apocalypticism.

First of all, when Paul describes the reasons for his failure to visit the Thessalonians, he puts the blame on Satan (1 Thess 2:17-18).  And when he goes on to explain why he is sending Timothy to them, he says,

 

For this reason, when I could bear it no longer, I dispatched [Timothy] that I might know your faith, for fear that somehow The Tempter had tempted you and that our labor would be in vain (3:5).

 

Here, in what is probably the earliest surviving letter of Paul, we find a strong awareness  that both he and his comrades face a formidable foe.  And if 2 Thessalonians is authentic, this other early letter of Paul powerfully underlines that awareness.[14]  Satan is the hidden hand behind the coming of “the lawless one, the son of destruction” (2 Thess 2:3-10).

Second, in 1 Cor 2:6, Paul speaks of the “the rulers of this age, who are being disempowered.”[15]  Wink is probably correct that we should not choose between human and demonic rulers (archontes) here.[16]  After surveying the strong evidence in favor of each, he concludes that “. . . Günther Dehn is right when he says that 1 Cor. 2:6-8 actually represents in itself an immediate coincidence of heavenly and earthly activity, in which Pilate, the high priests, and the rest brought Jesus to death at the instigation of the higher Powers.”[17]

Third, in 1 Cor 5:5, while handling the case of a man guilty of sexual immorality, Paul advises the Corinthians “to deliver this man to Satan for the destruction of the flesh in order that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord.”  Hopefully this will result in the salvation/health (sotēria) of both the individual and the congregation.[18]  Apparently Paul assumes that being thrown back into “this world” (v. 10), the domain of “the god of this world,” will have a sobering effect on the offender.  Note also that vv. 9-13 show that Paul is especially concerned about threats from within: “Paul is not afraid that social contact between a Christian and a non-Christian will pollute the church; but he does think that the disguised presence within the church of a representative from the outside, from the cosmos that should be ‘out there,’ threatens the whole body.”[19]  We will see more of this concern with “foreign agents” below.

            Fourth, in 2 Cor 2:10, Paul speaks of forgiving offenses committed against him, apparently with the goal of maintaining solidarity.  Then, in v. 11, he leaves no doubt as to where the temptation to do otherwise comes from: “. . . we do this so that we may not be outwitted by Satan; for we are not ignorant of his schemes.”

            The list of cases where Paul speaks of inimical spiritual powers could be expanded further.  But with 1 Cor 2:6 and 5:9-11 above, we have already anticipated the transition from the first to the second element of conspiracy theory, the “dupes and agents who extend the group’s influence around the world so that it is on the verge of succeeding.”  Aside from a few recruited agents like Paul and his enemies, all other human beings are the duped victims of “the god of this world.”  Of course there are plenty of people who are both duped and unwitting agents.[20]  Paul would probably have put himself in that category before he “saw the light.”  But here I want to focus on what Paul has to say about full-fledged enemy agents such as “the dogs” for which one must be on the “look out” (blepō) in Phil 3:2, as well as those creators of dissensions and impediments against Paul’s teaching who must be “scoped out” (skopeō) and avoided in Rom 16:17-18.  Their link with the evil powers is clear since success in this surveillance mission betokens that “the God of peace will soon crush Satan under your feet” (v. 20).  These are not operatives who remain on the outside, but insidious threats.  The two most striking cases where Paul uncovers such “moles” are found in 2 Corinthians and Galatians:

 

For such are pseudo-messengers, deceitful agents, disguising themselves as messengers of Christ.  And no wonder! Even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light. So it is not strange if his agents also disguise themselves as agents of justice. Their end will match their deeds. (2 Cor 10:13-15)

 

But because of the smuggled in pseudo-comrades, who infiltrated to spy on the freedom we have in Christ Jesus so that they might enslave us—we did not submit to them even for a moment, so that the truth of the good news might always remain with you. (Gal 2:4-5)[21]

 

These examples have a couple of interesting points of contact.  As Paul continues to denounce the pseudo-messengers in 2 Corinthians, he soon refers to how the Corinthians tolerate it when anyone, i.e., the pseudo-messengers, “enslaves” them (2 Cor 11:20).  Just a few verses later he mentions the dangers he faces when “among pseudo-comrades” (11:26).  Then, in the Galatians passage, the pseudo-comrades want to enslave Paul and his Gentile comrades.  Whether or not there is a Jerusalem connection between these two passages, it is clear that Paul thinks of the infiltrators he encountered in Jerusalem, Galatia, and Corinth in similar ways.

            Finally, we can already see that Paul and his comrades constitute the third element of a conspiracy theory: “a valiant but embattled group that urgently needs help to stave off catastrophe.”  Not only his fellow agents, but all believers in the cause are addressed as fellow combatants, “engaged in the same conflict (agōn) which you saw and now hear to be mine” (Phil 1:30).  One might say that agent Paul found himself fighting against a powerful conspiratorial syndicate known as S.A.T.A.N.A.S.[22]  Unlike many conspiracy theorists, however, Paul’s confidence in victory was almost boundless because the Commander-in-Chief (ho theos)[23] had already decisively proven his superiority through the most cunning clandestine operation against S.A.T.A.N.A.S. ever conceived.  While Satan’s typical incognito strategy was to disguise himself as one of his superiors (2 Cor 11:14), the Commander sent a Special Agent (ho christos), his own Son, on a covert mission disguised as a dupe (doulos, Phil 2:5-7).[24]  After living many years as a “sleeper,” he led a popular non-violent uprising that seemed to end in abject failure worthy of any dupe (Phil 2:8).  But through a miraculous rescue operation, his true identity was revealed and he was not only reinstated as the top Special Agent, but also promoted to become the Director of the Agency, the Head of the Community (ho kurios), a position subordinate only to that of the Commander himself (1 Cor 15:28).  This exemplary secret operation left its mark on Paul’s own tactical theory and method.

Conspiracism is a religion for true believers.  Indeed, some ancient apocalypticists, such as the Dead Sea sect, even thought of themselves as the only true Jews.  They were the chosen ones privileged to know the deeper, hidden truths of their tradition.

 

Conspiracism even claims priority over faith.  In the words of one secret society theorist, those who have “probed the inner mysteries of this arcane tradition are the guardians of an Ancient Wisdom which is the secret teaching behind all established religions.”[25]

 

Not all of Paul’s “mysteries” were arcane.  Interpreters are fond of pointing out that “the mystery of God” (1 Cor 2:1), the good news, is for Paul “an open secret.”  It was hidden in ages past, but is now available to all.  It should be noted, however, that the clearest statements of the open secret idea are in the textually doubtful doxology of Romans (16:25-27) and the likely Deutero-Pauline Colossians and Ephesians.[26]  But even if such passages were accepted as essentially true to Paul, this perspective on Pauline secrecy is simplistic and misleading since it is only one side of the story.  For just as Jesus’ “mystery of the Kingdom” is expressed openly but in the coded language of parables, deciphered only by and for “insiders” (Mark 4:11; cf. Matt 13:11; Luke 8:10; GThom 1, 13, 17, 62, 92, 93, 108, et al.), so among “the fully-trained” (teleios) Paul can “share intelligence, although it is not an intelligence of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are being disempowered” (1 Cor 2:6).[27]  Rather it is “The Commander’s intelligence, encrypted in a mystery, which the Commander predetermined before the ages for our promotion (doxa), an intelligence none of the leaders of this world order recognized, for if they had recognized it, they would not have crucified the Director (kurios) of promotion” (vv. 7-8).  Paul is truly an international man of mysteries: “Even if I am unskilled in speech, I am not in knowledge. Certainly in every way and in all things we have made this evident to you” (2 Cor 11:6).  He had much more intelligence to share with the Corinthians, but he could not do so because they had made no progress in their training (1 Cor 3:1-3).[28]  And beyond this, there were also some highly classified secrets—“for your eyes only”—that Paul could not share with anyone (2 Cor 12:3-4).

    Not surprisingly, adoption of the outlook of conspiracism is no small step.  It requires a change that can only be described as a “conversion.” [29]

 

Conspiracism implies an outlook very different from conventional knowledge; accepting it requires a radical shift in perception.  While some enthusiasts reach their new faith through a slow but steady corrosion of prior beliefs, most who made this change speak of it as an epiphany in which they realize how hopelessly naïve they had previously been.[30]

 

Converts are also notoriously highly motivated.

 

Full-fledged conspiracy theorists devote themselves heart and soul to their faith, spending untold hours on learning about their chosen issue.  . . . The truest believers devote their very lives to this cause.  They engage in a compulsive and autodidactic inquiry . . . then proselytize others.  The ambitious among them publish the results . . .  In some cases, this obsession pushes career and family to the side.[31]

No one who has grappled with Romans, not to mention his other “weighty and strong” epistles, can doubt that Paul had spent years reflecting deeply on his new faith, even if some observers, both ancient and modern, are tempted to conclude that, like other conspiracy theorists, his great learning had driven him mad (Acts 26:24).  Indeed, his obsession did push career and family aside.  First Corinthians 7 leaves no doubt where family ranked in Paul’s list of priorities.

            So far we have been reminded that both apocalyptic conspiracy theory and counterespionage figured prominently in the mission profile of Paul.  Clearly the weapons of his fight are rhetorical, used for “demolishing arguments and every towering fortress erected against the knowledge of God, and taking captive every thought to the obedience of Christ” (2 Cor 10:4-5).  But how far was he willing to go in using all the tricks of the trade?  Since most interpreters consider him “a good man,” does that mean that some weapons are automatically off limits?  We would do well to ask a contemporary of Paul, an expert weapons manufacturer who is also “a good man,” one M. Fabii Quintiliani, or Q for short.

 

The Weapons of Q

Q described the final book of his Institutio Oratoria as the most difficult for him to write. [32]  He saved the most serious and important task till the end, one he claims his predecessors neglected: to “form my orator’s character (mores) and teach him his duties (officia).”[33]  Above all,

 

. . . he must be a good man.  This is essential not merely on account of the fact that, if the powers of eloquence serve only to equip for vice, there can be nothing more pernicious than eloquence to public and private welfare alike, and I myself, who have labored to the best of my ability to contribute something of value to oratory, shall have rendered the worst of services to humanity, if I furnish these weapons (arma) not to a soldier (militi), but to a mercenary (latroni).[34]

 

Let us note immediately that very first analogy for rhetoric that occurs to Q in this context comes from warfare.  Providing a rhetorical handbook is like handing someone a loaded gun, indeed an entire arsenal.  I will return to this subject shortly, but for now let us observe that for the rest of this long chapter, Q not only argues that the orator must be a good man, but even insists that “no man can be an orator unless he is a good man.”[35]  This audacious proposition eventually leads Q into an apology for Demosthenes and Cicero, two indisputably superlative orators whose characters had often been attacked.[36]  Then, recognizing that his defense may not be convincing to all, he grants for the sake of argument that a bad man might be discovered who is endowed with the highest eloquence.[37]  This gives him the opportunity to distinguish further between the man who is merely eloquent and the orator,

 

. . . a man who to extraordinary natural gifts has added a thorough mastery of all the fairest branches of knowledge, a man sent by heaven to be the blessing to humanity, one to whom all history can find no parallel, uniquely perfect in every detail and utterly noble alike in thought and speech.[38]

One might think that Q is describing a god and not a man.[39]  After all, “orator” is “a sacred name” (sacro nomine).[40]  Throughout this section, Q holds as a guiding principal the idea that the same heart cannot combine vileness and virtue, the same mind hold good and evil thoughts, or the same person be both good and bad.[41]  This anticipates his extended treatment of the necessity of perfecting a natural impulse to virtue through character formation in chapter two.  Certainly, at least from the standpoint of mastery of all branches of knowledge and excellence of technique, if we were discussing secret agents, Q could only be describing the immortal 007.  Nobody does it better.

But is 007 “a good man”?  Or, for that matter, is 007’s Q a good man?  For not only is 007 a “no holds barred” sort of combatant, ready to meet fire with fire, but Q is the one who supplies him with all manner of secret weapons designed to meet and trump all such weapons in the field.   It is precisely this issue that occupies the ancient Q’s attention in the final part of chapter one. 

I think I hear certain people (for there will always be some who had rather be eloquent than good) asking, “Why then is there so much ‘art’ in connection with eloquence?  Why have you talked so much of  ‘glosses,’ the methods of defense to be employed in difficult cases, and sometimes even of actual confession of guilt, unless it is the case that the power and force of speech at times triumphs over truth itself?”[42]

Now we can see clearly that Q’s remark near the beginning of book twelve about the risks to both public and private welfare in furnishing these dangerous weapons anticipated a more sustained defense (respondeo) of his own potentially subversive activities.[43]  For what is Q’s Institutes if not a weapons manual?  In this final and most self-reflective of the manual’s books, combat metaphors recur at strategic points.[44]  Q must explain why good orators, who for Q are good people by definition, must employ weapons of such “cunning” (ars).  Even philosophers must use these “weapons of rhetoric.” [45]  Why is it honorable for some people to be “licensed to kill” (metaphorically speaking, of course)?

            First of all, “at times we should speak in defense of falsehood or even injustice, if only for this reason, that such an investigation will enable us to detect and defeat them with the greater ease . . .”[46]  After using the Academicians’ practice of arguing both sides of a question as a positive example, Q concludes with another military metaphor: “Consequently the schemes of his adversaries should be not less well known to the orator than the councils of the enemy to a commander.”[47]

            Secondly, there are even times when “a good person who is appearing for the defense should attempt to veil (velit) the truth from the judge.”[48]  Since the sanctioned use of “the cover up” obviously sounds shocking, Q immediately credits it even to those regarded by antiquity as the greatest masters of wisdom.[49]  He goes on to argue that “there are many things which are made honorable or the reverse not by the nature of the facts, but by the causes from which they spring.”  Indeed,

. . . everyone must allow, what even the sternest of the Stoics admit, that the good person will sometimes tell a lie, and further that he will sometimes do so for comparatively trivial reasons . . .   And there is clearly far more justification for lying when it is a question of diverting an assassin from his victim or deceiving an enemy to save our country.  Consequently a practice which is at times reprehensible even in slaves, may on other occasions be praiseworthy even in the wise man.[50] 

This a fortiori reasoning that moves from trivial situations to matters of life and death elicits a series of questions which introduce examples of cases where the “good” end justifies the “bad” means. 

Suppose a man to have plotted against a tyrant and to be accused of having done so.  Which of the two will the orator, as defined by us, desire to save?  And if he undertakes the defense of the accused, will he not employ falsehood with no less readiness than the advocate who is defending a bad case before a jury?  Again, suppose that the judge is likely to condemn acts which were rightly done, unless we can convince him that they were never done.  Is not this another case where the orator will not shrink even from lies, if so he may save one who is not merely innocent, but a praiseworthy citizen?  Again suppose that we realize that certain acts are just in themselves, though prejudicial to the state under existing circumstances.  Shall we not then employ methods of speaking which, despite the excellence of their intention, bear a close resemblance to fraud?  Further, no one will hesitate for a moment to hold the view that it is in the interests of the commonwealth that guilty persons should be acquitted rather than punished, if it be possible thereby to convert them to a better state of mind, a possibility which is generally conceded.  If then it is clear to an orator that a man who is guilty of the offenses laid to his charge will become a good man, will he not strive to secure his acquittal?[51]

Even in the case of guilty persons who may not be so changed by acquittal, but whose exoneration will be of greater benefit to society than their punishment, the “good man, skilled in speaking” should use all possible means to defend them.[52]  The final sentence of chapter one is a fitting summary: “Therefore, as new situations arise, the orator will change his oratory while maintaining his integrity of purpose.”[53]

What this “changing his oratory” (flectetur oratio) means in practice is succinctly defined later when Q is describing those most difficult tasks for the orator that should never be turned over to an assistant (advocatus).  These are judging “what should be said, what concealed, what avoided, altered or even feigned” (quid dicendum, quid dissimulandum, quid declinandum, mutandum, fingendum etiam).[54]   Q considers the making of such decisions to be of the very essence of good oratory.  But most revealing of all is his advice about knowing when to wage war in the open field and when to use stealth:

. . . oratory will always be glad of the opportunity of maneuvering in all its freedom and delighting the spectator by the deployment of its full strength for conflict in the open field; but if it is forced to enter the intricacies of the law, or dark places whence the truth has to be dragged forth, it will not go prancing in front of the enemy’s lines nor launch its shafts of quivering and passionate epigram of the fashion that is now so popular, but will wage war by means of siege-engines and mines and traps and all the tactics of secrecy.[55]

After explaining that oratory has reached such a highly developed state that one can no longer use the older orator’s trick of strategically concealing one’s eloquence, Q states that it is imperative that “cunning and stratagem should be masked, since detection spells failure.  Only in this manner may eloquence exploit secrecy.”[56] 

 

Undercover Disclosure

Therefore, having this agency as ones who have received mercy, we do not act badly.[57]  On the contrary, we have given up disgraceful concealments, not operating by cunning or disguising God's word, but rather by a full disclosure of the truth we prove ourselves to everyone’s conscience before God.  But even if our good news is undercover, it is undercover only among those who are being destroyed, in whose case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers to keep them from seeing the light of the good news of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God (2 Corinthians 4:1-4).

 

The first problem with 2 Cor 4:1-4 is that the queen doth protest too much.  These denials are already problematized by the fact that they are addressed to the same audience to which he wrote 1 Cor 9:19-23.  Only when we read them in context can we see what they might really mean.  Paul has just exposed the “agency” established through Moses.  It is an agency of death (2 Cor 3:6).  Moses delivered a contract that condemns and kills those who accept it (3:7,9).[58]  But the most disturbing aspect of Paul’s depiction is Moses’ attempt to veil that contract’s true “end,” i.e., its temporary “splendor” and its deadly effect.[59]  So Paul unmasks him, compromising the entire operation (3:12-13).  What is truly disturbing to Paul is not the fact that Moses masked himself and his agency—how could someone who admits he presents himself as all things to all people object to this?—but that he did it for the wrong reasons.  Of course in all of this Paul indulges in a serious misrepresentation of Moses’ motives and methods in the original story of the veil.  What Paul is really aiming at throughout this passage is the—equally misrepresented?—motives and methods of “traders of God’s message” and “super apostles” (cf. 2:17 – 3:1; 5:12; 6:11 – 7:1; 10:1 – 12:21).  

But the second problem with 2 Cor 4:1-4 is that Paul does not stop with an unqualified denial that there is anything shady about his own agency.  He goes on to grant that in the presence of certain people, “those who are being destroyed,” his message too is undercover!  And, appropriately enough, his rather veiled mode of expression in these verses leaves quite open the question of whether this veiling is the result of the god of this world having blinded the minds of unbelievers, or is something Paul himself does intentionally when in their presence.  The latter possibility would help explain why in the following verses (2 Cor 4:7-12) he uses the same sort of paradoxical language about his image with which we began (2 Cor 6:3-10).

The point of all his paradoxes is that Corinthians must stop judging by appearances.  They must look beneath the surface to know what is really real (4:18), whether in the case of Paul, Moses, or any other agents.  Paul knows his own ēthos, his profile, his modus operandi, is misleading on the surface.  Sometimes ēthos is indeed the most important factor in rhetoric and 2 Corinthians is a quintessential illustration.[60]  Not just recent events involving rival agents, but the entire history of Paul’s relationship with the Corinthians to this point has culminated in the need for a defense and commendation, an apologia pro vita sua.[61]  That is why the very thesis (causa/propositio) of the letter is both an ethical boast and a “reading” tip:

 

For this is our boast, the testimony of our conscience: we have behaved in the world with simplicity and godly sincerity, not by earthly wisdom, but by the grace of God—and all the more toward you.  For indeed we write you nothing other than what you can read and also recognize; I hope you will recognize fully—as you have already recognized us in part—that on the day of the Lord Jesus we are your boast even as you are our boast (2 Cor 1:12-14). 

If only the Corinthians will fully recognize Paul, if they learn how to read not only his letters but him, then their consciences will know why his is so clear even while he admits the fact that there is a difference between what he appears to be and what is he is underneath.

 

Therefore, since we know the fear of the Lord, we “persuade” people, but what we really are is plain to God, and I hope plain to your consciences also.[62]  We are not commending ourselves to you again, but giving you reason to boast about us, so that you may be able to hold forth against those who boast in appearance, not in the heart (2 Cor 5:11-12). 

With this verse Paul begins to remind the Corinthians of a Christological perspective that provides the key to reading and really understanding both him and his letter.  Simply put, it is this: if one takes a surface view of Christ, one will see only a sinner.  Paul himself once viewed Christ superficially, i.e., “according to the flesh” (kata sarka; 5:16).  It is very likely that Paul once considered Jesus an agent of sin who was justly condemned under the Law and cursed by being hung on a tree (Gal 3:13).  So with a clear conscience and zeal he persecuted Jesus’ followers violently (kata huperbolē; Gal 1:13).[63]  But Paul came to recognize that only by looking below the surface, beneath superficial appearances, para-doxically, can one see that “[God] made the one who knew no sin to be sin for us” (2 Cor 5:21). 

But from the standpoint of Paul’s former life, Jesus still appeared to be “an agent of sin” (Gal 2:17), and Paul not only believed in Christ, but imitated him.  That meant he himself had to take on a way of life that was bound to be paradoxical.  Since the post-conversion Paul no longer does the works of the Law—at least not consistently which could look even worse—he appeared to many to be nothing less than an agent of sin (e.g., Rom 3:8; 6:1,15; cf. Acts 21:27-28).  But Paul knew “in the heart” that he was promoting righteousness even while appearing to oppose God’s Law!

Paul was no less aware than Q that it is possible to be both a “deceiver yet true,”  and “imposter yet genuine.”  Paul is proud that he knows “the ‘schemes’ of his adversaries” (Inst. 12.1.35; cf. 2 Cor 2:10).  He even admits, at first openly but later more cautiously, that just like the enemy agents, he knows how “to veil the truth” in certain situations, at least temporarily (Inst. 12:1.36; cf. 1 Cor 9:19-23 and 2 Cor 4:1-4).  Indeed, his career as an agent was brought to an end when he was caught in the act of “being” an observant Jew to observant Jews (Acts 21:17-36).  But, true to form, throughout his appearances before various judges, he avoided the real issue by throwing out a red herring (resurrection), and eventually challenged the jurisdiction of the court (stasis translatio).  On occasion he may even have been more willing than Q to try the old orator’s trick of strategically concealing one’s eloquence (Inst. 12.9.5; cf. 2 Cor 11:6), though since he tries it in the midst of a composition that parades his parodic mastery of his enemies’ own eloquence (11:1 – 12:10), more likely its use is ironic.[64]  He also knew how important “glosses” were in particular situations.  If Galatians can be read as Paul’s unvarnished opinion of Judaism and Law observance, then Romans can be read as a more “finished” production, one in which the rhetorical recipe was more obviously “what should be said, what concealed, what avoided, altered or even feigned” (Inst. 12.8.5).[65]  One could even argue that at the very heart of his mission lies the logic that “in the interests of the commonwealth . . . guilty persons should be acquitted rather than punished, it if be possible thereby to convert them to a better state of mind” (Inst. 12.1.42; cf. Rom 5-8).  Indeed, his insistence in Romans that God “acquits/rectifies the ungodly” was yet another thing that made him appear to be an agent of sin, disempowering God’s Law.  In 2 Cor 3:7-14 he emphasizes how the old covenant has been “disempowered” by the arrival of the new (katargeō used 4x in vv. 7, 11, 13, 14). Yet in Rom 3:31 he insists that faith does not disempower (katargeō) the Law—God forbid!—but rather establishes (histēmi) it!  Is it any surprise, then, that Paul occasionally had to insist that he was not capable of anything (panourgia in 2 Cor 4:2; cf. 12:16!)?  Is it any wonder that some understood him to be saying “Let us do bad things so that good things may come” (Rom 3:8)?  I can certainly imagine that in the right company Paul might have said with a sheepish grin, “We do ‘bad things’ to get good results.”  Perhaps he knew the saying, “Behold I send you out as sheep in the midst of wolves; so be cunning as snakes and innocent as doves” (Matt 10:16).

The bottom line is that what makes one a “soldier” or a “mercenary” according to Q, or an “agent of God” or an “agent of Satan” according to Paul is not which “weapons of rhetoric” one uses—for “in every way we establish ourselves as agents of God”—but what one uses them for.[66]  Because Paul believed his cause was just and his heart was pure, he utilized the undercover ēthos of an agent in God’s secret service with a clear conscience: “For we cannot do anything against the truth, but only for the truth” (2 Cor 13:8; cf. 1 Cor 2:15).