John Calvin Commentary 2 Corinthians 11:6

"But though [I be] rude in speech, yet [am I] not in knowledge; nay, in every way have we made [this] manifest unto you in all things." — 2 Corinthians 11:6 (ASV)

But though I am rude—there was one thing in which he might appear, at first view, to be inferior: that he was devoid of eloquence. This judgment, therefore, he anticipates and corrects, while he acknowledges himself, indeed, to be rude and unpolished in speech, while at the same time he maintains that he has knowledge.

By speech here he means elegance of expression, and by knowledge he means the very substance of doctrine. For as a person has both a soul and a body, so also in doctrine, there is the thing itself that is taught and the ornament of expression with which it is clothed. Paul, therefore, maintains that he understands what should be taught and what is necessary to be known, though he is not an eloquent orator, able to set off his doctrine with a polished and eloquent manner of expression.

It is asked, however, whether elegance of speech is not also necessary for Apostles; for how will they otherwise be prepared for teaching? Knowledge might perhaps suffice for others, but how could a teacher be mute? I answer that while Paul acknowledges himself to be rude in speech, it is not as though he were a mere infant, but it means that he was not distinguished by such splendid eloquence as others, to whom he yields the palm in this, retaining for himself what was the principal thing—the reality itself—while he leaves them talkativeness without gravity.

If, however, anyone should inquire why the Lord, who made men’s tongues (Exodus 4:11), did not also endow so eminent an apostle with eloquence, so that nothing might be wanting to him, I answer that he was furnished with a sufficiency to compensate for the lack of eloquence.

For we see and feel what majesty there is in his writings, what elevation appears in them, what a weight of meaning is contained in them, what power is discovered in them. In short, they are thunderbolts, not mere words. Does not the efficacy of the Spirit appear more clearly in a naked rusticity of words (so to speak) than under the disguise of elegance and ornament?

We have, however, addressed this matter more fully in the former Epistle. In short, he admits, as far as words are concerned, what his adversaries allege by way of objection, while he denies in reality what they assert.

Let us also learn from his example to prefer deeds to words and, to use a common, though perhaps unrefined, proverb: “Teneant alii quid nominis, nos autem quid rei;” that is, “Let others concern themselves with the name, but let us concern ourselves with the reality.” If eloquence is also present, let it be regarded by us as something extra; and furthermore, let it not be used for disguising or adulterating doctrine, but for unfolding it in its genuine simplicity.

But everywhere. Since there was something magnificent in placing himself on a level with the chief Apostles, so that this would not be ascribed to arrogance, he makes the Corinthians judges—provided they judge from what they themselves have experienced. For they had known sufficiently well, from many proofs, that he did not boast needlessly or without good reason. He means, therefore, that he does not need to use words, since reality and experience provide clear evidence of everything he was about to say.