Original Meaning
AS THE “THEREFORE” in 4:1 indicates, Paul begins this new section by once again drawing a conclusion based on his previous argument (cf. 3:4, 12), which he sums up as “this ministry.” Because of “this ministry,” Paul does “not lose heart.” The apostle will return to this same conclusion in 4:16, thereby framing this unit of his letter with two declarations of his encouragement. In spite of the rejection he experiences (4:1–6), the suffering he must endure (4:7–15), and the death he faces (4:16–18), Paul still does not lose heart (4:16).
Paul supports this resolve by outlining yet again the foundation, purpose, and assurance of his apostolic ministry. Now, however, his focus is not on his suffering as an embodiment of the knowledge of God revealed in the cross (cf. 2:14–16a), but on his endurance as an expression of the power of God revealed in the resurrection (cf. 4:7–12). Thus, Paul’s suffering manifests the gospel of the death and resurrection of Christ in two ways: as a corollary to the cross that it embodies and as an antithesis to the glory of God that is revealed through it.
Paul’s Confident Boldness in Spite of Rejection (4:1–6)
IN 3:4, PAUL’S “confidence” was based on God’s revealing knowledge of himself through Paul’s suffering (2:14–3:3). In 3:12, his boldness was founded on his assurance that the glory of God will continue to be unveiled in his ministry of the Spirit (3:8). In 4:1, his encouragement is therefore based on this same “ministry” (diakonia) of suffering and the Spirit (cf. this same terminology in 3:3, 6, and 7–11 as a summary of the main points of 3:3–18). Paul does not lose heart because God has commended him through the pouring out of the Spirit in fulfillment of the promises of the new covenant through Paul’s life of suffering “in Christ.”
Hence, in surveying his ministry, Paul reminds the Corinthians that, as the former persecutor of the church, he owes his apostleship solely to “God’s mercy” (cf. 1 Cor. 15:9–10). Within its present context, this refers specifically to Paul’s experience of God’s grace both in his call to preach (2:14–16a; 3:4–6; cf. 1 Cor. 9:16–17) and in his ministry of the Spirit (cf. 2 Cor. 2:17; 3:1–3, 7–18; cf. 1 Cor. 9:18). The very existence of his ministry is evidence of God’s reality in his life, from which he derives great encouragement. The mercy granted to Paul in the past undergirds his confidence for the future.
Paul has already shown that a person’s conduct reveals the content of his or her character (cf. 2:17; 3:1–2). Accordingly, the evidence of Paul’s not losing heart is that he renounces the “secret and shameful ways” of his opponents, who were attempting to cover up their true motives with a veneer of apparent piety and counterfeit spiritual power (4:2a; cf. 11:1–15). Since Paul is confident of his mercy-generated motives and the Spirit-led character of his ministry, he has no need for such cover-up tactics in his ministry (cf. 1:12–14).
This is confirmed by the parallel between 4:2 and 2:17b, which makes it clear that Paul’s preaching with sincerity has resulted from God’s conversion-call in his life and from the knowledge that he stands “in the sight of God,” that is, before God as judge. Paul goes on to delineate three ways in which he has renounced the duplicitous maneuvers of his opponents, two negative and one positive. Negatively, Paul need not “use deception” (lit., walk around in a cunning way) or “distort the word of God” (4:2b). Positively, “by setting forth the truth plainly,” Paul can “commend [himself]1 to every man’s conscience” (4:2c). Because of his own clear conscience (cf. 1:12), he can boldly appeal to the conscience of others (cf. 3:12). Conversely, all whose consciences are likewise clean because of God’s mercy will accept this divine commendation of Paul’s ministry (cf. 2:15–16a).
For this reason, Paul does not engage in self-commendation, since God is the one who recommends Paul by the very existence of the Corinthians as Christians (3:1–3). Nevertheless, Paul does commend himself by pointing to the evidence that God has had mercy on him, namely, to his open life and pure presentation of the gospel (4:1–2).2 The difference between these two kinds of commendation is whether there is concrete evidence of God’s mercy in one’s life. Because the motives of Paul’s opponents remain impure, they demand payment from the Corinthians, preach a “different gospel” of health and wealth, and live boastful lives of arrogant self-promotion (cf. 11:4). Because, as a result of God’s mercy, Paul’s motives are pure, he preaches for free, proclaims the cross, and lives a life of suffering for their sake (cf. 2:17; see also 1 Cor. 4:8–13; 9:12–23).
Given the evidence supporting Paul’s commendation, a failure to respond to his proclamation of God’s word does not call into question the validity of his ministry. Instead, “even if [Paul’s] gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing” (4:3a; cf. 2:15–16a; cf. 1 Cor. 1:18). This evaluation of the reason for the rejection of Paul’s life and message is the main point of 2 Corinthians 4:1–6. The problem is not with Paul but with those who spurn him. In making this point, Paul continues to use Moses’ veil as a metonymy for the hardness of one’s heart (cf. 3:14–15a). Thus, those who fail to see God’s glory in Paul’s ministry do so because of their spiritual blindness.
The cause for this hard-heartedness is given in 4:4. Those who repudiate the gospel do so because of their inability to accept that it owes its existence to Satan’s rule over the present evil age (cf. Gal. 1:4; Eph. 2:1–3). Like Israel in 2 Corinthians 3:13–15a, “they cannot see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God” (4:4; cf. Col. 1:15). People are not blinded because they choose to renounce the gospel; rather, they choose to renounce the gospel because they are blind. And they are not blind because they choose to be so, but because Satan has made them so.
The description Paul uses in 4:4 to depict the glory now being veiled from those who are perishing is one of the most important Christological statements in the New Testament. Since in the Old Testament the concept of an “image” can never be understood without a connotation of physical representation, “the conception of Christ as the eikon tou theou [the image of God] both in 2 Cor. 4:4 and Col. 1:15 clearly conveys the sense that Christ is the [visible, therefore material] manifestation of [the invisible] God, and therefore his likeness to God is strongly implied in it.”3 Christ is the embodiment of God’s own character, the prototype and representation of what all those who see God’s glory will become (3:18).
The entire history of redemption is encapsulated in this statement. Adam was created in the glorious image of God, but fell from it. God consequently barred Adam and Eve from his presence. Israel encountered the glory of God on Mount Sinai, but fell from it. Moses consequently veiled his face. Christ did not fall, but is the revelation of the glory of God to his people. Paul, as an apostle, encountered the glory of God in Christ on the road to Damascus and was converted. As a result, he mediates the glory of God in Christ, unveiled, in order to reverse the effects of the Fall as manifested in Israel’s history of hard-heartedness. Paul’s experience and ministry are therefore part of the “second exodus” and “new creation” brought about by Christ as the “second Adam.”
This explains Paul’s stress on a person’s inability in 4:4. He draws this conclusion because he is convinced that those who, by the power of the Spirit, “see” God’s glory will inevitably be transformed by it (3:8, 18). God delivers his people by removing their blindness to his glory (cf. 2:16b; 3:9–11). Conversely, the underlying cause for moral inability to behold God’s glory is Satan, who “blinds the minds of unbelievers” (for the way in which he accomplishes this, see 11:3).
Yet Paul is not teaching a dualism in which competing gods battle one another for the lives of men and women. Paul describes Satan as limited, that is, he is only “the god of this age.” When taken together with the use of the “divine passive” of 3:14 and Paul’s emphasis on the active work of the Spirit in removing the “veil” in 3:17, Satan’s work is clearly seen to be subordinate to the sovereignty of the “one God” (cf. 1 Cor. 8:6; also Rom. 11:36). “Those who are perishing” (2 Cor. 4:3) do so because God leaves them in their blinded state, cut off from his glory and without the power of the Spirit needed to escape Satan’s reign over their lives.
Paul’s final argument that those who refuse his ministry are not revealing his insufficiency but their own “blindness” is given in 4:5 (note “for” [gar] in v. 5a), which in turn is supported by 4:6 (note “for” [gar] in v. 6a). The Corinthians will not be surprised to hear that Paul does not preach himself (or any human leader) as the foundation or object of faith. Jesus, the Messiah, is alone Lord, both over the church and over the world (for the former, see, e.g., 1 Cor. 1:13; 2:5; 3:4–9; 4:1; for the latter, see, e.g., 1 Cor. 1:2, 3, 7, 23; 5:4; 6:11; 8:6; 9:1; 11:26–27; 12:3; 15:11–12, 31, 57; 16:22; 2 Cor. 1:2–3, 19). What is surprising is that Paul also preaches himself as the Corinthians’ “servant” (Gk. doulos, slave). He himself is an essential aspect of his preaching! This is the case since the gospel that he preaches is embodied in his own Christ-like willingness to consider the needs of others more important than his own “rights.”
As the Corinthians’ “slave,” Paul is willing to forego financial support as an apostle (1 Cor. 9:12–18; 2 Cor. 2:17) and to submit his own freedom in Christ to their religious-ethnic distinctives and level of maturity in the faith (1 Cor. 9:19–23; cf. 8:9–13). Paul does this “for Jesus’ sake” (lit., “because of Jesus”), that is, in accordance with the pattern of the cross in which Jesus himself counted the needs of his people more important than his own position as God’s Son (cf. Mark 8:34–38; 10:45 as applied in Phil. 2:1–13). Because of Jesus, Paul too must be a “slave” to those to whom he is sent. As an extension of the cross of Christ, he is called to suffer in service to the Corinthians (see comments on 1:3–11; 2:14–16a). For this reason, Paul can and, given the polemic situation in which he now finds himself, must include his own apostolic ministry as an essential part of his message. To reject Paul is to reject the gospel of Jesus Christ as Lord—the message he preaches.
That many were rejecting Paul in spite of the pattern of Christ exhibited in his ministry is further evidence of their hardened nature. What is true for Israel as a people (3:14–15) is true for the Gentiles as well (4:3–5). Their rejection of Paul exposes their own spiritual blindness, since his legitimacy has been established in accordance with the twofold criteria from 1 Corinthians 12–13 for determining the genuine nature of spiritual gifts. On the one hand, “no one who is speaking by the Spirit of God says, ‘Jesus be cursed,’ and no one can say, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ except by the Holy Spirit” (12:3). On the other hand, the purpose of a spiritual gift is the common good of the church (12:7, 13; 14:12).
Hence, both the content of Paul’s message (he preaches Jesus as Lord) and the manner of his ministry (his change of plans and practice of self-support, both resulting from his love for the Corinthians as their “slave”) have already demonstrated the genuineness and divine origin of his calling. In contrast, Paul’s opponents have made the Corinthians their slaves (cf. 2 Cor. 11:4–20). Moreover, his opponents’ refusal to take up their cross on behalf of the Corinthians clearly reveals that they preach another Jesus (11:4, 18–20). Indeed, they water down the gospel for the sake of their own financial gain (4:1–2 in view of 2:17).
In 2:16b and 3:4–6a Paul upheld the legitimacy of his suffering for the sake of the Corinthians by pointing to his conversion-calling. In the same way, in 4:6 Paul supports his role as a “slave” to the Corinthians by pointing to his calling. Paul has become a slave to others because he was taken captive to Christ on the road to Damascus, where he encountered “the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.” As a result, through his suffering Paul mediates the same “knowledge” of God’s glory in Christ as the “image of God” that converted him. Hence, “the Damascus event is the basis of both his theology and his existence as an apostle.”4
In 2:16b and 3:4–5 Paul depicted his call in terms of the call of Moses and the prophets, thereby highlighting the “second exodus” framework for his own ministry of the new covenant in fulfillment of Jeremiah 31:31–34 and Ezekiel 36:25–27. This prophetic motif is continued in 4:6 in Paul’s reference to seeing “the glory of God in the face of Christ,” which recalls Ezekiel’s vision of God’s glory in human form (cf. Ezek. 1:26, 28; cf. 2:1–7; 3:12, 23; 8:2–4; 9:3; 10:1–4; 11:22–23; 43:2–5; 44:4).5 Now, however, Paul portrays this call in terms taken from the creation of light in Genesis 1:3 (“Let there be light”) as this was picked up in Isaiah 9:2. The latter is a prophecy of redemption in which the coming new creation is pictured as a “light” that will shine on those dwelling in darkness.
Paul’s point is that his own conversion-call on the road to Damascus and resultant apostolic ministry express the dawning of the new creation now taking place in Christ (once again taking the plurals in 4:6 to be apostolic plurals, referring to Paul himself).6 As such, Paul’s experience is a paradigm for the experience of all believers. Inasmuch as “the god of this age” has blinded people to the glory of God in Christ, only the God of creation, the one who originally called forth light out of darkness, can overcome this blindness. The same power that created the world is now being unleashed in recreating God’s people by shining “in [their] hearts.”
Against the backdrop of the veil in 3:16–18 and 4:3–4, this shining in the heart most naturally refers to God’s work of changing the moral disposition and spiritual condition of his people. Paul is a living example of this new creation. Only a new creation in Christ can account for such a conversion from persecutor to persecuted one (cf. Acts 9:15–16; 1 Cor. 15:8–10; Gal. 1:13–16; 1 Tim. 1:12–16; 2 Tim. 1:11–12). Encountering God’s glory in Christ changed Paul’s life.
This can be seen in the parallel between 3:18 and 4:4, 6. The “glory” of the “image/likeness of God” from Genesis 1:26 that is equated with Christ in 4:4, 6 is the same glory of God’s image/likeness that provides both the basis and goal of transformation in 3:18. To be transformed by the Spirit into the image of God’s glory (3:18) is to be conformed to the “image of God” as manifest in Christ as the second Adam (4:4; cf. 1 Cor. 15:42–49; Rom. 5:12–21; 8:28–30). In the first creation we were made in the image of God; in the new creation we are made into the image of God in Christ. This is why the “light” of the new creation used by God to transform his people is not the glory of God seen in the firmament (cf. Ps. 19:1–2), but “the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ” (2 Cor. 4:6b).
As in the theophanies under the old covenant, it was a blinding revelation of God’s glory, now “in the face of Christ,” that removed Paul’s spiritual blindness.7 Against the backdrop of Genesis 1:3 as read through the lens of Isaiah 9:2, the knowledge of the glory of God revealed to Paul in the face of Christ is the means and goal of the new creation (2 Cor. 4:6) in fulfillment of the new covenant (3:3, 6). To “see” the glory of God in Christ (4:4, 6) with an “unveiled face” (3:16–18) is to begin to come face to face with the presence of God as enjoyed by Adam before the Fall. “Thus, the gospel of faith simply repeats in a new guise the word spoken at creation (1 Cor. 1:28; cf. Rom. 4:17; 2 Cor. 4:6).”8 Paul’s argument is therefore emphatically theocentric.9 It is the “glory of God” that is being revealed in “the glory of Christ” as “the image of God.”
It is this glory, spoken in God’s word at creation and enfleshed in Jesus, that is proclaimed in the gospel (2 Cor 4:4 in view of 4:6; cf. Phil 4:19), embodied in the suffering of Paul (2 Cor 1:3–11; 2:14 in view of 4:6; 4,7–12; 6:3–10; 7:2–16), and experienced in the church (3:18; 4:13–18; 6:14–7:1). Thus, the antithetical parallels between 4:4 and 4:610 demonstrate not only Paul’s redemption, but also his ensuing ministry as the means by which the new creation of the new covenant is being inaugurated in the midst of this present evil age (cf. Gal. 1:4):
The god | God |
of this age | of creation (“Let light …”) |
has blinded | made his light shine |
the minds of unbelievers | in our hearts |
so that they cannot see | to give us |
the light of the gospel | the light of the knowledge |
of the glory of Christ | of the glory of God |
who is the image of God. | in the face of Christ. |
Paul’s gospel declares the light of the new creation by showing forth how Christ himself manifests the glory of God’s image, that is, his righteous and merciful character (4:4). When in conjunction with this gospel God shines his presence into the lives of those whom he is now re-creating in Christ, he makes it clear how Christ himself embodies in his death and resurrection on behalf of those who were living in the darkness of sin the very glory of God (4:6). Because of the reality of this mercy, both in Paul’s own life and in the lives of those to whom he is sent, Paul does not lose heart (4:1). Those who reject Paul do so because they remain blind to the reality of God in Christ. For the very glory of God himself is now being revealed through Paul’s ministry.
Paul’s Confident Boldness in the Midst of Suffering (4:7–12)
SINCE PAUL’S CONFIDENCE (4:1–2) is based on the reality of God’s glory in and through his life (4:5–6), he counters his opponents’ influence on the Corinthians by again reminding them that this glory is not mediated through a “health and wealth” gospel and lifestyle. Rather, Paul carried his “treasure” in a “jar of clay,” a reference to his weakness and sufferings (1:3–11; 2:14–16a; 6:3–10; 11:23–33), especially his concern for his churches (2:12–13; cf. 11:28). This is God’s design in order to make it evident that the power of the gospel does not reside in Paul, but belongs to God (4:7). The power of the gospel is so great and its glory so profound that it must be carried in a jar, lest people put their trust in Paul himself (cf. 1 Cor. 2:1–5).
Within its context, the “treasure” in view in 4:7 refers most directly back to “the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ” from 4:6. But the link between 4:6 and 4:4, where the glory of Christ is seen to be the content of the gospel, suggests that it can also refer to Paul’s entire ministry as this is embodied in his life of suffering. The idea of picturing humans as “jars of clay” (“earthen vessels” NASB) as a metaphor for human weakness was common in the ancient world, including the Qumran writings (cf. the references to clay pots as weak and prone to break in Ps. 31:12; Isa. 30:14; 1QS 11:22; 1QH 1:21–22; 3:20–21; 4:29). Read in this way, Paul’s image points to a contrast between his own weakness and suffering and the power of God.
Others, however, see “jars of clay” as a metaphor of cheapness, based on Lamentations 4:2 (LXX), thereby establishing a contrast between Paul’s lack of significance or worth and the surpassing value of the treasure. Still others argue that both ideas are present here, so that 4:7 provides a contrast to both the “treasure” and the “power of God.” As Timothy Savage puts it, “the glorious gospel is borne about by those who are comparatively inferior, the powerful gospel by those who are weak.”11 Of these options, the purpose clause in 4:7b seems to indicate that the point of contrast is God’s power, so that the intention of the image is to highlight the weakness of Paul (for this same contrast, but without the metaphorical dress, cf. 1 Cor. 2:3–5).
The purpose clause in 4:7b is often translated with the idea of “making manifest” or “demonstrating” (cf. NIV: “to show that … is”). But literally it reads, “in order that the all-surpassing power might be from God and not from us.” As Savage points out, if we take the verb “to be” in this formal sense, then Paul’s point is even more striking: “It is only in weakness that the power may be of God, that [Paul’s] weakness in some sense actually serves as the grounds for divine power.”12 Since the emphasis in 3:1–18 was on the glory of God and power of the Spirit, Paul now emphasizes that his mediation of the Spirit takes place in the “earthen vessel” of his suffering. He does this so that the power and glory that he mediates might not be associated with his own person or talent in any way. Paul’s weakness ensures that the power is from God and not from Paul (cf. 12:1–10).
The series of four adversative contrasts in 4:8–9 all modify 4:7 by illustrating how this divine power comes to expression in Paul’s life. In spite of Paul’s being “hard pressed,” nevertheless he is not “crushed”; he is “perplexed, but not in despair,” and so on. Paul’s not being done in by his circumstances, suffering, or persecution is to be attributed directly to God’s ability or “power” to sustain him in the midst of his adversity. In making this point, these four contrasts confirm that the “power” manifested in the “treasure” of the gospel ministry belongs to God. Given Paul’s weakness, his perseverance can be attributed only to God. Paul’s suffering provides the platform for the display of God’s power.
In 4:10–11 Paul then interprets the experiences of 4:8–9 in terms of the death and resurrection of Jesus in order to indicate the Christological purpose of his suffering. The power of God revealed in Paul’s suffering is, in fact, the same power revealed in the experience of Jesus. Just as Jesus was put on the cross in order to be raised from the dead, so too Paul is “carry[ing] around in [his] body the death of Jesus” (4:10), “always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake” (4:11), in order that the “life of Jesus may also be revealed in [his mortal] body.” Here, too, the categories of Jesus’ death and resurrection are used to interpret Paul’s experience of suffering and sustenance, thereby demonstrating that his life mediates the knowledge of God to the world embodied in Christ (cf. 2:14–16a):
the dying of Jesus | the life of Jesus |
hard pressed | but not crushed |
perplexed | but not in despair |
persecuted | but not abandoned |
struck down | but not destroyed |
Moreover, the verb translated “[not] in despair” in 4:8 is the same word found in 1:8, where Paul recounts that in the past he did despair of his life. This move from 1:8 to 4:8 shows that Paul learned his lesson in Asia. God proved himself faithful to rescue his people. And God’s rescuing Paul in the past gave him confidence that God could and would rescue him in the future, so that this hope enabled Paul to endure in the present (cf. 1:8–10). Within this framework, the reference to not being “abandoned” in 4:9 is especially significant. Its background in the LXX indicates that this is a “divine passive,” which speaks of being abandoned by God (cf. Gen. 28:15; Deut. 31:6, 8; 1 Chron. 28:20; Ps. 16:10; 37:25, 28; Sir. 2:10).13 Just as God did not ultimately abandon Jesus in the grave, so too God’s resurrection power sustains Paul in his own experiences of “death.”
The contrasts of 4:8–9 underscore that during this evil age it is endurance in the midst of adversity, not immediate, miraculous deliverance from it, that reveals most profoundly the power of God. Paul’s deliverance in Asia (1:8–10) leads to the daily endurance of 4:8–9. This is confirmed by Paul’s use in 4:10 of nekrosis (dying), rather than thanatos (death), which indicates that he is thinking of the process of dying rather than its final condition (cf. 1:9, 10; 2:16; 3:7; 4:12; 7:10; 11:23). Paul’s focus on endurance in the midst of adversity may also explain his emphasis in this passage on Jesus, recalling his earthly life that culminated in the cross, rather than on his royal title, Christ.14 He carries around “the dying of Jesus” (4:10) as he is given over to “death” (4:11). Finally, the present participles in 4:8–9, together with the emphasis on “always” in 4:10, add to this emphasis on the continual process of “dying” that takes place in his life as an apostle.
In 4:11 Paul gives the theological basis for his conviction that his suffering, like the “death of Jesus,” mediates the resurrection power of God, that is, the “life of Jesus.” By using the divine passive, “we are always being given over to death” (by God), Paul again asserts that his sufferings are not merely coincidental, but part of the divine plan for the spread of the gospel. Like Jesus, Paul too is delivered over to his own death (cf. 2:14; for Jesus, see Mark 10:33; Rom. 4:25; 8:32). In verse 10, Paul “carries” the death of Jesus in his own body; in verse 11, Paul himself is the living one who is given over to death by God. But this does not lead Paul to the conclusion that the “life” he mediates is his own—it remains the “life of Jesus” (4:11b).
As in 1 Corinthians 4:12–13, here too God’s power is therefore expressed through Paul’s weakness. Moreover, as in 1 Corinthians 4:9 and 2 Corinthians 2:14, in 4:11 Paul’s suffering is again portrayed under the image of death. In the first two passages this was done by means of a metaphor (1 Cor. 4:9: being sentenced to death in the arena; 2 Cor. 2:14: being led to death in the triumphal procession). Here Paul explicitly associates his suffering with the death of Jesus itself (4:10–11). In each case, Paul views his suffering to be a divinely orchestrated death that, like the cross of Christ, performs a revelatory function. The exact parallels between 1 Corinthians 4:9; 2 Corinthians 2:14; and 4:11 thus demonstrate not only that our interpretation of the triumphal procession in 2:14 is accurate, but also that it provides a thematic key to Paul’s self-understanding as an apostle:
2 Cor. 4:11a | 2 Cor. 2:14a | 1 Cor. 4:9a |
1. Divine passive | 1. Thanks be to God | 1. God |
2. constantly (cf. “always” in v. 10a) | 2. always | 2. (cf. “to this very hour,” v. 11, and “up to this moment,” v. 13) |
3. we the living | 3. us | 3. us apostles |
4. are being handed over to death | 4. leads us in a triumphal procession to death | 4. exhibited last of all as those sentenced to death |
5. on account of Christ | 5. in Christ | 5. (cf. “for [i.e., on account of] Christ,” v. 10) |
2 Cor. 4:11b | 2 Cor. 2:14b | 1 Cor. 4:9b |
1. in order that the life of Jesus might be revealed | 1. and reveals the fragrance of the knowledge of him | 1. because we became a spectacle |
2. in our mortal flesh | 2. through us | 2. _________ |
3. _________ | 3. in every place | 3. to the world, that is, to angels and to men |
Unlike 1 Corinthians 4:8–14, however, where Paul’s purpose was instructional, in 4:7–18 Paul’s intent is apologetic. Rather than providing an example for the Corinthians to follow, Paul must now defend why the glory of his ministry must be contained in his weakness.15 As a result, the context within which Paul interprets his ministry has also changed. In 1 Corinthians 1:4–4:13, Paul’s suffering was shown to be the means by which God attests (cf. 1:17–18; 2:1–5) and makes known (4:9–13) the wisdom and power of God as revealed in the cross. In 2 Corinthians 4:7–12, Paul’s suffering is now shown to attest (4:7) and reveal (4:11) the power of God as revealed in the resurrection (4:10–11). Hence, instead of Paul’s “death” being linked to the cross of Christ as its corollary, it is now contrasted with the resurrection of Christ as its antithesis.
Taken together, these twin emphases of Paul’s “theology of the cross” and “theology of glory” are not contradictory, but complementary. He is not combating a theology of glory with a theology of the cross, but showing their essential unity. In 2 Corinthians 1–4, Paul’s task has been to show how his apostolic experience of being “led to death” supports his preaching of both the cross and the resurrection of Christ. His suffering embodies the cross as a revelation of the knowledge of God (2:14–16a), but it also demonstrates that the resurrection power in the gospel is not his own, but God’s (4:7–11). If Paul’s suffering is a sign that the kingdom of God has not yet been consummated, his endurance is evidence that it has been inaugurated. The power of the new creation (4:6) is being mediated in the midst of this evil age (4:3) through Paul’s suffering (4:7–11), which is itself an expression of God’s triumph over Satan.
In 4:7 Paul stated the purpose for his weakness: in order that the power might be from God; in 4:8–11 he illustrated the way in which this purpose is fulfilled: through his carrying around the “death of Jesus” (4:10a) in his own “death” (4:10b) in order that the “life of Jesus” might be revealed in his body (4:10b, 11b). In 4:12 Paul draws the consequence of this purpose for the Corinthians: He is given over to death in the present so that God’s resurrection power might be at work in their lives (cf. 1:3–6, 10–11).
The relationship between Paul and his church is not reciprocal when it comes to Paul’s call as an apostle to share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ (cf. 4:15). Paul is called to suffer on behalf of and for the sake of the Corinthians; they are not called to suffer for him. Nevertheless, Paul’s suffering and experience of God’s deliverance are always derivative, since Jesus’ death and resurrection provide the pattern for Paul’s experience and the content of his proclamation. Paul’s life is not a “second atonement,” but a mediation of the death and life of Jesus. In his preaching and suffering, Paul stands between the glory of God and the life of his congregation as an instrument in God’s hand to bring about new life among his people.
Paul’s Confident Boldness in Light of the Experience of the Righteous (4:13–15)
RENDERED LITERALLY, THE opening clause of 4:13 reads, “having the same spirit of faith according to what has been written….” This is the same construction found in 3:4; 3:12; 4:1; and 4:7 (the NIV obscures this correspondence). In each case, Paul sums up what has just been said with the expression, “we have [or having] this …” in order to provide a transition to a new unit of thought. Here Paul begins his new paragraph by referring to what has just been said in 4:7–12 as the “same spirit of faith.” His point is that the profound character of his life as an apostle described in 4:7–12 is not new. He stands in the long line of the suffering righteous from the past, here expressed in terms of Psalm 116:10.16
Moreover, since it is the Spirit who creates faith and conforms one to Christ’s faithfulness in the midst of adversity, the “spirit” in view here is most likely the Holy Spirit as the source of faith, not the “spirit” as a reference to the “essence” or “nature” of faith (cf. 1 Cor. 12:9). As with the psalmist, it is the Spirit who empowers Paul to believe and therefore also to preach (2 Cor. 4:13b; cf. 3:3, 6). For like the psalmist, Paul’s preaching not only takes place in the midst of adversity, but also leads to even more adversity itself (Ps. 116:10b). It is therefore not surprising that in 116:3–4 the psalmist too is in a situation of “death,” only to be rescued by the Lord in response to his desperate cry for help (cf. 116:1–2, 4–9). The psalmist’s response is to fulfill a corresponding “vow” of thanksgiving (116:12–14) as his “sacrifice” of praise (116:17).
An essential aspect of this praise is the psalmist’s conclusion from this experience of suffering and divine rescue that he is indeed God’s servant (Ps. 116:16). So, too, Paul’s experience of God’s rescuing him from death leads to this same response of praise (cf. 2 Cor. 1:3, 11; 2:14; 4:8–9, 15) in response to the same conclusion concerning his own validity as God’s servant (3:1–6; 4:1–7). Paul’s citations of Scripture are not isolated “proof texts,” but “footnotes” to their original context, from which he builds his own argument. Far more than merely a pious outburst or scriptural coloring, Psalm 116 provides an interpretive lens through which the apostle understands the significance of his experience in Christ, the suffering Righteous One.
(1) The first reason for Paul to persevere in his preaching, in spite of and in the midst of the adversity that engulfs him, is his knowledge that the God who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise Paul with Jesus, together with all who will likewise stand resurrected in God’s presence (4:14). This is the surety that comes from the Spirit as a “deposit” or “down payment” of the salvation yet to come (cf. 1:22; 5:5). No matter what the circumstance, Paul’s commitment to preach derives from his assurance for the future, the initial fulfillment of which he has already experienced in the Spirit. As in Psalm 116:9, the experience of having been preserved by God in the past leads one to declare defiantly: “[I will] walk before the LORD in the land of the living” (cf. 2 Cor. 1:8–11).
But beyond his own experience and that of the psalmist, Paul can point all the more to Jesus’ empty grave as the solid foundation for trusting God’s sovereignty, love, and power for the future, despite the suffering of the present. If the cross of Christ explains why Paul suffers, it is the resurrection of Christ that gives him the confident hope needed to persevere as he suffers.
(2) Paul’s second support for his perseverance in preaching is his surety concerning the present impact of his ministry (4:15). Paul keeps preaching, no matter what, because he knows that the purpose of his life is exhibited in the lives of others. As in 1:3, 11 and 2:14, here too Paul reminds his readers that the purpose of his ministry is to display God’s glory through the thanksgiving that has increased among many as a result of Paul’s ministry. The specific cause and object of this thanksgiving is the grace of God experienced in Christ through Paul. The more people who experience grace, the greater the thanksgiving. A life rescued by God produces a heart filled with gratitude, thereby reversing the fundamental sin of self-glorifying ingratitude that lies at the root of all sins (cf. Rom. 1:21; 3:23).
Thus, Paul keeps preaching because he is confident that this very redemption is now taking place through his ministry of the Spirit under the new covenant (3:3–6). Through his unveiled boldness (3:12), an unveiled encounter with God’s “surpassing glory” is transforming God’s people into those who praise his glory (cf. 3:10, 16–18; 4:6, 15). In 3:10, Paul referred to the new covenant manifestation of God’s glory as “surpassing” (hyperballouses) that of the old, since the age of the new covenant had dawned. This point was confirmed by Paul’s use of the related noun “all-surpassing quality” (hyperbole) in 4:7 to describe God’s power as seen in “the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ” (4:6).
This present experience of God’s glory, however, is merely the beginning of the consummation to come. Hence, in 4:17 Paul uses the same terminology to refer to the future “eternal glory” that “far outweighs” (kath’ hyperbolen eis hyperbolen) all afflictions. Accordingly, as in 3:10 and 4:7, so too in 4:17 the future revelation of God’s glory remains explicitly tied to Paul’s suffering, endured by the power of the Spirit (cf. 4:1, 7, 13 with 2:14–3:3). In fulfillment of God’s goal in redemptive history, Paul’s proclamation of the gospel reveals God’s glory in Christ and, in so doing, the grace of God is causing thanksgiving to overflow among many others (4:13, 15; cf. 9:12–15 for these same themes). As a result, following in the footsteps of the righteous who suffered before him, including Christ himself, Paul’s delight in the manifestation of God’s glory is the ultimate reason that he does not lose heart in the ministry.
Paul’s Confident Boldness in Light of the Resurrection (4:16–18)
IN 4:16 PAUL returns to the point where he began in 4:1. There the parallel was between not losing heart and ministering with integrity in spite of his suffering (cf. 4:1–2). Here the corresponding parallel is between not losing heart and the daily renewal of Paul’s “inner self”(NIV: “inwardly”) in spite of the “wasting away” of his “outer self” (NIV: “outwardly”). The correspondence between 4:1 and 16 makes it clear that “outer” and “inner” do not refer to a dualistic body/soul dichotomy. Rather, they point to the moral transformation of Paul’s life as a believer (his “inner self”) in the midst of his life within the suffering and sin of this present evil age (his “outer self”).17 In both cases, the “inner” and “outer self” refers to Paul in his entirety as one who lives eschatologically in this “overlapping of the ages.”18
Pate’s study of this text against the backdrop of the common Jewish conception that in the coming age Adam’s lost glory will be restored to the righteous who suffer has confirmed this eschatological interpretation of the inner self/outer self contrast.19 Against this backdrop, the allusion to Genesis 1:26–28 in 2 Corinthians 4:4, 6 is again picked up in 4:16, now associated with Psalm 8:5–6. The outer self refers to the believer’s existence under the decaying mortality inherited from Adam, while the inner self is the believer’s existence in the new age already inaugurated by Christ as the “last Adam.”20 “In Christ” Paul belongs to the age to come (“inwardly”) at the same time that he continues to live in the midst of this evil age (“outwardly”). Therefore, he does not lose heart, but instead is encouraged by the way in which his life is being renewed into the character of Christ (cf. Rom. 8:28–30, within the context of the suffering outlined in 8:18–25 and 8:35–39).
The result of this renewal is that God will use these “light and momentary troubles” to achieve for Paul “an eternal glory that far outweighs them all” (4:17; cf. Rom. 8:18). Instead of destroying Paul, his sufferings “outwardly” are the very instrument God uses to reveal the glory of his presence and power in Paul’s life “inwardly.” Second Corinthians 4:17 thus supports 4:16 (see the “for” in 4:17a), so that Paul himself is a beneficiary of what he mediates to others. Paul’s own experience testifies that the present revelation of the glory of the Lord (cf. 4:4, 6) is the means to the future enjoyment of the incomparable eternal weight of glory (cf. 4:17) that is being prepared for God’s people, who in the meantime must patiently endure “the same sufferings [Paul] suffers” (1:6; cf. 3:18; Phil. 3:11, 20–21; Col. 1:27; 3:3–4; also Rom. 5:2; 8:18, 21).
This insight and assurance did not come naturally. Paul had to learn this profound truth (cf. 1:8–11), the process of which is itself an essential part of his inward renewal (4:16). That Paul can testify to this conviction in 4:17 thus implicitly undergirds his encouragement that he is, in fact, being renewed into the image of Christ. Unbelievers do not experience God’s glory or the faith it engenders (4:3–4). This is born out by the parallel between 4:17 and 1:8. We saw that Paul’s description of no longer despairing when perplexed in 4:8 refers back to 1:8. So too, Paul uses the same image of “weight” (baros) to describe God’s glory in 4:17 that he used earlier in 1:8 to describe being “weighed down” (bareo) by his suffering.21 Just as Paul has grown to trust God to sustain him under the “weight” of his afflictions, so too Paul has come to see that the “weight” of his glory far surpasses that of his afflictions. “The affliction which once felt like a lethal weight round his neck now seems weightless in comparison to his eternal load of glory.”22
This change of perspective brought about by Paul’s encounter with the surpassing value of God’s glory is evidence that God is renewing Paul in and through his suffering. It is this “eternal perspective” that leads Paul to his final conclusion in 4:18. In view of the future glory he anticipates inheriting, Paul no longer focuses on the visible, temporary things of the present, that is, the suffering and adversity of the evil age in which he still lives (cf. Rom. 8:24–25). Instead, Paul’s focus is on the unseen things to come, that is, on his growing, Spirit-empowered participation in the image of God, culminating in his final transformation into God’s likeness as manifest in Christ (cf. 3:18; 4:4, 6).
This is Paul’s response to God’s presence in his life. The power of God that sustains Paul in his weakness (4:7–12) causes him to remain confident in his proclamation (4:13) and in his suffering for the sake of others (4:16). All that God has done and is doing through the adversities of his life (4:1–15) leads him to focus on all that God will do (4:16–18), which in turn gives him confidence to endure the daily consequences of sin (4:1–15). This is the cycle of faith.
Bridging Contexts
THE SECULAR AND the sacred: first century and twenty-first century. Moving from Paul’s context to our own requires an understanding of both. Concerning the former, Savage has provided a significant study of the cultural values and religious ideals that were current in the Greco-Roman society of Paul’s day, particularly in Corinth.23 In doing so, Savage paints a picture of how the pattern of “power through weakness” associated with the Christian ministry in 4:7–18 would have been perceived by the Corinthian church.
It is important to keep in mind, first of all, that in Paul’s day no self-conscious wall of distinction existed between the sacred and the secular. Society’s social values permeated the many religions of Corinth, just as the more narrowly defined religious expectations of the day permeated the culture. As Savage observes, “the cults supplied the heart of daily life. They arranged the social, inspired the cultural, stimulated the commercial and assisted the political … cult and society were inseparable, hardly to be distinguished.”24
Thus, Paul had to fight the culture at large in order to establish the counterculture of the church. This meant having to fight the cultural conception of what it meant to be “religious” as a “Corinthian,” since Paul’s ministry, embodied as it was in his suffering, called into question both of these identities. Paul’s defense of his ministry was, in reality, a defense of the values and worldview of the gospel of Christ over against the culture of his day, since to be Corinthian and to be religious were one and the same thing. It was therefore difficult, if not impossible, for the Corinthians to separate what they understood from their culture concerning what it meant to be normal from what they learned religiously, since the two were part of one reality and self-identity.
At first glance, most contemporary, evangelical Christians in the “post-Christian” West appear to live in a very different cultural context, at least at the formal level. The distinction between sacred and secular, between church and state, is embedded in our cultural identity. Indeed, at the formal level, evangelical churches in North America most often derive their identity by contrasting themselves with the secular culture around them. In the modern (and even more so in the postmodern) world, unlike the world of Paul’s day, our very starting point is to draw a distinction between the “world” and the “kingdom of God.” This becomes all the more true as the ethos around the church becomes increasingly dominant and secularized in its perspective and practice, while the religious space within society shrinks more and more into our private world of personal opinion. In this context, the difference between the secular world and the church is championed as a matter of theological orthodoxy.
At the formal level of self-definition, this awareness of the inherent differences between the church, alternative religions, and secular society is itself an indication of how far we have come in carving out a specifically Christian identity and worldview. Most believers understand at the intellectual level that being Christian entails a different way of thinking and living. We affirm, with Paul in 4:18, that our reason for living is radically different from that offered by the culture around us. In this way, after almost two thousand years of Christian history, we are far ahead of the Corinthians. In ministering to new converts, Paul’s first battle was to get the Corinthians to see that there was a difference to begin with (cf. 1 Cor. 5–7).
At the same time, the ability to reflect on our unique identity makes us aware that our attempts to define ourselves over against our culture often fail both in what we esteem and in how we act. While still oblivious to many of our cultural values (objectivity toward the self is never perfect), we nevertheless know all too well that many of the godless values of the dominant culture impact us as Christians. In this light, Savage’s study is all the more significant. His survey of the dominant cultural values in Corinthian society reveals a haunting similarity to the values often implicitly and explicitly espoused within the church today. In spite of our attempts to separate ourselves from the modern/postmodern culture around us, we look surprisingly like the Corinthians of Paul’s day in our way of life and values. When making the transition from Paul’s context to our own, we are therefore chagrined by how immediately relevant Paul’s central message remains for us (see the Introduction: “Christ Confronts Culture in Corinth”).
The root issue in Corinth. Nevertheless, we must exercise caution in applying this text in our context. We must be careful to distinguish between Paul’s explication of the gospel and his example of suffering as its embodiment. The former is universally true at all times; the latter is to be followed only as God himself orchestrates the circumstances of our lives. Given Paul’s understanding of God’s sovereignty and the distinction in calling between his role as an apostle and the life of the Corinthians, Paul did not call the Corinthians to try to suffer more. There is no martyrdom theology in Paul’s writings, in which the cross is applied literally to the life of the church as the path of true discipleship. For believers in general, suffering will happen in their lives (cf. 1:6–7), but they are not called to a life of suffering per se.
The root problem in Corinth was not that the Corinthians were not suffering enough, though they no doubt were quick to reject its necessary role in the life of the Christian. Rather, their basic problem was their prideful refusal to consider all that they had to be gifts from God (1 Cor. 4:7), so that their spiritual experiences, leaders, and endowments became grounds for boasting and pride (cf. 3:3, 18, 21; 4:6–7; 8:1; 12–14). Consequently, in 1 Corinthians Paul pointed to his own suffering as an apostle to illustrate that they ought to imitate him in principle by humbly considering the needs of others more important than their own (cf. 4:15–17; 10:31–11:1). To adopt Paul’s Christ-like attitude would not necessarily mean going without food and shelter, as Paul did, though it might. But it should lead to serving one another, rather than boasting and using each other for their own ends (cf. chs. 12–14).
If suffering for the sake of the gospel is the essential characteristic of Paul’s apostolic ministry, on which the very lives of the Corinthians are based, then how much more should the Corinthians give up their own rights for the sake of others (cf. 1 Cor. 9:1–27 within the argument of 8:1–11:1). Paul’s life of carrying around the “death of Jesus” for the sake of the Corinthians should lead to their own dying to self and living for others in whatever circumstance God places them. Being raised with Christ in this life does not refer to the ability to escape suffering, but to the power to endure it for the sake of Christ and his church. As Paul’s children, the Corinthians’ lives should not be characterized by boasting in their own spiritual attainments, leaders, or status (1:10–13; 3:21).
By the time of 2 Corinthians, however, Paul could no longer call his people to imitate him. Instead, Paul had to argue for the legitimacy of his ministry itself, both to shore up the repentant and to rescue the rebellious. Between the writing of 1 and 2 Corinthians, the Corinthians’ propensity to boast, fueled by their culture’s esteem for the status associated with health and wealth, had led them to accept Paul’s opponents and their false gospel. Paul’s opponents not only promised such “glory” on earth, but also paraded their own religious “accomplishments,” ethnic pedigree, rhetorical flair, and materialism as evidence of their validity.
For a while, their manner of life and message proved too hard to resist for the majority of the church. The supposed super-spirituality of Paul’s opponents, with its health and wealth gospel, played directly into the Corinthians’ cultural propensity for self-reliance and glorification. The only obstacle in their way was Paul himself, since the life and ministry of the apostle who had founded the church and through whom they received the power of the Spirit in Christ was marked by suffering, weakness, and a willingness to preach for free. If the false apostles were to win in Corinth, they had to destroy the credibility of Paul’s ministry.
It is at this point that we can apply Paul’s writing directly to our present context by maintaining our allegiance to his model and message through resisting any attempt to redefine the gospel in terms of success and serenity in this life. Paul does not call all Christians to suffer as such. Yet those who embrace his gospel will suffer as they take their stand for Christ and as they give up the comforts of contemporary culture in response to the call to serve others wherever and however God should lead them to do so.
Paul’s appeal. In the end, therefore, Paul’s suffering is not to be sought but accepted as the valid and indeed necessary embodiment of the gospel of the glory of God, as it was made known “in the face of Christ” (4:6). Through the example of Paul’s apostolic ministry and the writings he has left behind, God will sanctify his people, through whom he will continue to make his appeal to the world (cf. 5:20).
At the heart of this appeal is the declaration that the value of the glory of God in Christ, now and in the future, “far outweighs” any and all of the “light and momentary troubles” of this life (4:17). To believe in this gospel of grace is to “fix [one’s] eyes” on what is still “unseen” (4:18), so that, even in the midst of affliction, we react with the overflowing thankfulness that honors God for granting to us in his mercy his “surpassing” glory (4:15). For such thankfulness reflects the knowledge that experiencing God’s glory in Christ is of infinitely more value than anything this world has to offer, positively or negatively. This can only mean that to reject Paul and his message is to manifest one’s own blindness to the power and glory of God now being revealed in “the face of Christ” (4:1–6; cf. 1 Cor. 1:17–19; 2 Cor. 2:15–16a).
These reflections on what it means to bring this passage into our contemporary culture, beginning and climaxing as it does with Paul’s reflections on the glory of God, lead to a sobering realization. Thinking about and interpreting and preaching this text should never be reduced to some kind of “armchair theology,” in which discussions are pursued for the sake of intellectual dispute or banter. In the end, the glory of God, which is both the foundation and final goal of Paul’s reflections, is not a theorem to be analyzed. Nothing less than eternity is at stake. In turning to the contemporary significance of this passage, J. I. Packer’s perspective, which he said he learned from the Puritans, is therefore worth contemplating:
All theology is also spirituality, in the sense that it has an influence, good or bad, positive or negative, on its recipients’ relationship or lack of relationship to God. If our theology does not quicken the conscience and soften the heart, it actually hardens both; if it does not encourage the commitment of faith, it reinforces the detachment of unbelief; if it fails to promote humility, it inevitably feeds pride. So one who theologises in public, whether formally in the pulpit, on the podium or in print, or informally from the armchair, must think hard about the effect his thoughts will have on people—God’s people, and other people. Theologians are called to be the church’s water engineers and sewage officers; it is their job to see that God’s pure truth flows abundantly where it is needed, and to filter out any intrusive pollution that might damage health.
25Contemporary Significance
FROM PAUL’S PERSPECTIVE, God’s power and glory are not abstract theological postulates, but realities to be experienced. Conversion and transformation are brought about not by putting two and two together and making the right decision, but by an encounter with the living God (3:3, 7–11, 16–18; 4:1–6). Men and women are created anew when they come face to face with the presence of God’s Spirit (1 Cor. 1:26–31; 2:5, 12–16; 3:16; 5:4–5; 6:19; 2 Cor. 3:17–18; 4:6; 5:17). Our attempts to psychologize Paul’s thought or to relegate it to the realm of feelings are not a reflection of Paul’s perspective, but a reaction to the poverty of our own knowledge of God.
The glory of godliness. Thus, in drawing out the contemporary significance of Paul’s theocentric worldview, we need to keep in focus the ways in which Paul sees the glory of God in Christ at work among the church. Otherwise, it is simply too easy to become enamored with the false glory of the health and wealth gospel. In our day and age, as in Paul’s, the moral transformation into God’s character pictured in 3:18 and the endurance in the midst of adversity modeled in 4:1–8 seem too mundane to be miraculous. To consider health more important than holiness, however, is to slight God himself and his work in bringing about the new creation in our midst. For Paul, the reality of the resurrection is already being inaugurated in the conversion of believers into the body of Christ.26
As a result, the power of Christ in establishing his reign as the Son of God (1 Cor. 15:25) is already taking hold in the lives of believers, who, as children of God, wage war against the flesh (3:9, 16–18; 6:14–7:1; cf. Rom. 8:14 in the context of 8:9–16; Gal. 5:17). And the return of Christ will consummate God’s kingdom with the resurrection of those who are owned by God, as signified by the down payment of the sanctifying Spirit in their lives (1 Cor. 15:23; 2 Cor. 1:23; 3:18; 4:14–18). We thus live in the overlapping of the ages (the kingdom is here, but not yet here in all its fullness). The life of faith therefore takes place within the context of the suffering of God’s people, who, being “saved in hope” (Rom. 8:17–25), live and endure by the power of the Spirit while they await the future consummation.
In view of this emphasis on growth in holiness and the endurance of faith as the present demonstration of God’s power, there is a twofold application of Paul’s thought to the experience of Christians in general. (1) Paul’s portrayal of his apostolic ministry calls us to accept his authority and embodiment of the gospel as legitimate. There is a dangerous tendency among Christians to pick and choose their religious authorities according to their own likes and dislikes. For many today, Paul is no longer popular. Nonetheless, his claim to authority throughout these chapters is unmistakable. To reject his person and message is to reject the gospel of Christ. As challenging as Paul’s message may be, we turn away from it at our own peril (cf. 13:1–10).
(2) Paul’s understanding of God’s sovereign design for affliction, once embraced, will dramatically transform our own experience whenever we too find ourselves in situations of suffering. When Christians suffer, they too, like Paul, can take courage from the fact that their lives will mediate to others the power of the resurrection, either through God’s act of deliverance or, even more profoundly, through the testimony of their endurance and holiness. Even though the circumstantial suffering that was an essential part of Paul’s call may be an occasional aspect of God’s will for all believers, all of us can follow Paul’s example of incurring the suffering that comes from considering the needs of others more important than our own.
Moreover, there are those among us whom God will call into the ministry and mission of the gospel, in which the proclamation of the cross and resurrection of Christ will necessarily be embodied in a willingness to suffer for the sake of others. In either case, we too, like Paul, are called to trust God to sustain us in the midst of our adversity (4:8–15) in the confidence that he will ultimately deliver us (4:16–18), so that God’s power may be manifest in our weakness (4:7; cf. 12:7–10).
The glory of the world to come. The kingdom of God has already broken into this “present evil age” (Gal. 1:4; cf. 2 Cor. 1:20–22). But it is not yet here in all its fullness. This means that our enjoyment of the fullness of God’s presence and the blessings this entails are still a future reality. Our experience of the Spirit today, as great as it is, is still just a “down payment” of the glories to come. Only such an “already/not yet” view of the kingdom, with its hope in the consummation still to come, can resist the temptation to fall prey to the health and wealth gospel. We must resist all forms of “overrealized eschatology,” in which God’s promises for the future are transported into the present.
At the same time, it must be emphasized that suffering in and of itself is not the revelation of God’s power. Paul never glorifies affliction. Although the revelation of Christ’s power takes place in the paradox of Paul’s suffering, this paradox is not absolute. The cross is not itself glory, death is not itself life, weakness is not power (cf. 4:8–11, 16–18). Instead, Paul posits that deliverance, power, and renewal also exist in, through, and after suffering. Paul’s suffering is not the glory of Christ; Christ’s glory is mediated through Paul’s suffering. Believers are therefore to avoid circumstantial suffering and persecution whenever such avoidance does not hinder or compromise their calling, and to pray for healing and deliverance when sick (cf. Rom. 12:17–18; 1 Cor. 7:15; Phil. 4:4–7; 1 Tim. 5:23).
But the righteous do suffer (cf. Ps. 116:10 in 2 Cor. 4:13). And some, like Paul, are even called to do so for the sake of the gospel. God makes known his sovereignty and love by handing Paul over “to death for Jesus’ sake” (4:11–12; cf. 1 Cor. 4:9; 2 Cor. 2:14) and then by sustaining him through it so that he may be able to endure in faith (2 Cor. 4:8–10; cf. 1 Cor. 10:13; Phil. 2:15–28). It is Paul’s ability to endure and rejoice in the midst of adversity that reveals “the life of Jesus” to others. Anyone can worship Santa Claus. In stark contrast, the ultimate testimony to God’s power is the praise that arises in the midst of affliction because of our conviction that God is at work in and through our suffering for a future good so great that all present suffering seems “light and momentary” (4:14–17).
Paul’s words in 4:14 and 4:16–18 remind us that this future focus of our faith is the key to resisting the “Corinthianization” of the church. The structure of Paul’s thought in this passage makes clear that whatever we long for and expect in the future inevitably determines how we live in the present. Hope and its desires are the engine that drives us. The pursuit of a greater good in the future is the sole motive strong enough to bring about a willing and persevering self-denial in the present. Only the “eternal glory” can outweigh the burdens of this world. If what we consider to be good remains identified with what this world has to offer, perhaps even rationalized as the blessing of God, our lives will inevitably become worldly. Such an outcome is inescapable. As Paul put it from the perspective of his own culture, if all we have to look forward to is life on earth, then “let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die” (1 Cor. 15:32).
Without confidence in our future resurrection and a growing longing for what exaltation with Christ will mean, the call of the gospel loses its transforming power. Our hopes determine our habits. Made for God’s presence, we are a future-determined people. In order not to lose heart now, the world to come, not this one, must captivate our minds. Only those who are heavenly minded are any earthly good.
It is partly because [Paul] believes in a future resurrection of the dead that he is presently willing to carry about in his body the dying of Jesus (4:10–11). It is because he trusts in a future exaltation that he submits now to the condition of a “slave” (4:5). It is because he looks forward to a future heavenly life that he is willing to die daily (1 Corinthians 15:30). It is because he anticipates reigning with Christ in the future that he can speak so boldly in the present (2 Corinthians 4:13). Without faith in a future resurrection Paul’s present suffering would be not only intolerable, but also meaningless (1 Corinthians 15:30–32). He would, on his own admission, be a man most to be pitied (1 Corinthians 15:17–19).
27Modern and postmodern culture revolves around a this-world orientation; the only long-term future our culture conceives to be important enough to plan for consistently is retirement. This pervasive preoccupation with living as long as possible, as healthy as possible, and as wealthy as possible has dramatically impacted the church in the West. Our knowledge and experience of God are so weak, and our desire for the pleasures of the present so strong, that we find it almost impossible to imagine that life with God in the world to come could be incomparably better than what we hope to experience in this world.
This worldliness is reflected in our worship, since people always praise what they value. Though we have a multitude of contemporary worship songs celebrating God’s presence in our lives here and now, when was the last time you were deeply moved by a heartfelt and thoughtful song about the glories of heaven? When was the last time you even sang one? Are there any such hymns or choruses being written today in the West? We are simply too happy with the world to think seriously about the world to come. The longing expressed in Psalm 42:1–2 and 84:1–12 is foreign to us. The reality of the resurrection that the Corinthians denied explicitly (cf. 1 Cor. 15:12), we deny by default. In both cases the consequence is the same: a life lived in pursuit of the temporary rewards of this world.
Sheep go where their shepherds lead. Congregations take on the vision and values of their pastors. Paul’s argument in this passage, focused on his own ministry as an apostle, thus provides the antidote to the church’s this-worldly shortsightedness. Rather than portraying the persona of the successful leader, pastors are to take the lead in suffering for the sake of the gospel because of their confidence in the surpassing worth of the glory that “outweighs our light and momentary troubles” (4:18). Unfortunately, in many quarters of the church today Christian leaders have perverted the gospel into a magical attempt to gain physical healing and material comforts through “name-it-and-claim-it” faith formulas and “positive confessions” of healing in spite of one’s apparent “symptoms.” As D. R. McConnell observes, this so-called “Faith gospel” is
without question the most attractive message being preached today or, for that matter, in the whole history of the Church. Seldom, if ever, has there been a gospel that has promised so much, and demanded so little. The Faith gospel is a message ideally suited to the 20th-century American Christian. In an age in America characterized by complexity, the Faith gospel gives simple, if not revelational answers. In an economy fueled by materialism and fired by the ambitions of the “upwardly mobile,” the Faith gospel preaches wealth and prosperity … in an international environment characterized by anarchy … the Faith gospel confers an authority with which the believer can supposedly exercise complete control over his or her own environment.
28Indeed, the cultural ethos of materialism surrounding us is so pervasive that even those who do not advocate this perversion of the gospel explicitly find themselves expecting that circumstances should go well for godly followers of Jesus Christ. Anything less than peace (at least within the nuclear family), prosperity (at least a middle-class lifestyle), and health (at least most of the time) becomes a disappointment with God. Within this context, it is imperative that we constantly remind ourselves that endurance with praise, not avoidance of pain, is the evidence that the kingdom of God is here (4:8–9).
The glory of self-denial. Such endurance in faith is not wishful thinking. It is not being a Pollyanna about our circumstances. It is not the heroic act of those endowed with great fortitude and willpower, nor is it simply resignation. For those who can see the glory to come, it is the only thing that makes sense. Paul’s evaluation of his present suffering in the light of his future hope makes clear that following Jesus entails both perseverance in the midst of suffering and self-denial for the sake of others, and perhaps even suffering for Christ. But such suffering is never a sacrifice. As believers we never give up more than we receive in Christ.
“Comparison shopping” between the suffering of earth and the glory of heaven, between losing this world and gaining the world to come, leads to the conclusion that nobody ever outserves or outgives God. Whatever we give up in the present, even life itself, pales in comparison to what God will grant us in the future (4:17–18). The worst the world can do to us is kill us. In Paul’s view, however, to die in Christ is “gain” (Phil. 1:21). Yet only those who wish to gain their lives with God will be able lose their lives for Christ and the gospel (Mark 8:34–35). Hence, in order to follow in the footsteps of Jesus and Paul, an intimate relationship with God (“our Father in heaven”), a desire for the glory of his character to be manifest (“hallowed be your name”), and a longing for the coming of his kingdom in all its fullness (“your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven”) must replace our cravings for what the world has to offer.
Changed desires come through altered appetites. What is needed in every generation is an acquired taste for God in all his majesty and for what it will mean to live and reign with Christ forever. To live holy lives here and now, we must do whatever it takes in our preaching, worship, and life together to regain a sense of the glory of being in the presence of God (Matt. 6:19–24). Only in this way can the stranglehold of materialism that chokes out a vibrant walk with Christ be broken. As Richard Sturch has observed, when the Bible uses images to speak about heaven,
they are images of a strong reality. Heaven is like the literal heaven, the sky; it is like a garden; like a city, a
garden city, even; like music; like a solemn liturgy of praise; like a great feast; like the goal of a pilgrimage; like kingship, priesthood, and a victory celebration. To try to reduce such images to a literal and prosaic level is folly not only artistically but theologically…. And at the centre of each image is he who is the heart and source of all reality, God himself…. God’s presence with his people is the heart of their reward…. And since God is the supreme goodness, surely to see and know him is our supreme bliss….
29God himself and God alone makes heaven, heaven. In order to honor his name and protect his people from a second-rate joy, he tolerates no rivals. As a minister of the gospel, Paul mediated this glory and happiness of heaven in the midst of the sin-soaked realities of his world. The corresponding affirmation that he derived his encouragement from the eternal value of his ministry is particularly poignant for pastors today, who must resist the invasion of our churches by the “success syndrome” of our culture. A helpful counter-offensive is David Hansen’s work, The Art of Pastoring: Ministry Without All the Answers. Hansen provides a moving, first-person portrayal of Paul’s vision of the ministry as it applies to the pastorate today and by extension to all Christians who are used by God in pastoral ways. By reflecting theologically on his own experiences, Hansen demonstrates how the following principles from 2 Corinthians 1–4 work themselves out in the contemporary life of a pastor:
1. Reading biblical studies, theology, and church history is more “practical” and helpful in the ministry than the mountain of “how-to” books on the market, since our primary need is for a greater sense of who we are and why we act, not more skills….2. Ministry is a way of life, not a technology….3. Those called to minister serve the church, but they do not work for the church. Instead, Jesus is their boss….4. Ministry is not to be employer-driven, trend-driven, or task-driven, but is a following of Jesus Christ as the one who calls his pastors, so that the act of following Jesus
is the act of pastoral ministry….5. The Jesus whom we follow has a “general narrative direction” in his life, namely, the way of the cross….
30Not surprisingly, Hansen concludes these observations by pointing to Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 4:10–11:
Jesus specifically directed us to follow him in his life’s general direction, the Way of the Cross. Lest we object to bearing the cross as pietistic nonsense in a world of “scientific” management principles and psychological method, simply observe that virtually all the trouble that the best, and most talented pastors get into comes from not following the Way of the Cross. The best and most talented in the pastoral ministry and in denominational hierarchies harm themselves and harm the church most through their unrestrained ego and unwillingness to step off the high places. Sexual sin gets the press, but ego sin kills the church. Jesus told us exactly what direction our lives are to take: “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” (Mark 8:34).The power to do pastoral ministry and its central focus … lies specifically in the everyday, concrete following of Jesus, led by him on the Way of the Cross…. Paul recognized this when he told the Corinthians: “We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body” (2 Cor. 4:10–11).
31The glory of future grace. As we have seen, it was not primarily Paul’s gratitude for what Christ had done for him in the past that sustained him (though he certainly was profoundly thankful), but his hope for the future (cf. 4:14). In our “now” generation, Paul’s orientation toward the future, which is such an essential aspect of a biblical worldview, is a desperately needed corrective. What God has done for us in the past is the foundation of our faith, not its focus. We do not live in the past. Looking back, we gain confidence in God for the future. It is this hope for the future, whether it be for this afternoon, as we depend on God to protect us in the midst of the temptations and suffering to come, or for our death bed, as we depend on God to deliver us into his presence for all eternity, that empowers God’s people not to lose confidence, but to live like Christ.
The faith Paul exhibits in 4:13 is not mental assent to the truth of historical facts, though it is certainly based on such facts. Nor is it a magic formula designed to get things from God, though God certainly rewards faith by bringing his people into his presence for all eternity. Rather, it is a growing trust in the promises of God because of God’s proven trustworthiness. This faith begins when we first bank our hope on God’s promise of forgiveness in Christ. It continues through the ups and downs of life as we grow increasingly confident in God’s wisdom and power to lead, sustain, and sanctify us. And it culminates on that day in which we trust God to take us home to himself. Having been saved by faith from beginning to end, faith also lasts forever, as we depend on God for all we are and ever hope to be throughout all eternity (cf. 1 Cor. 13:13).
John Piper pinpoints for us the heart of the matter.32 Like Paul (cf. 4:15), Piper realizes that the goal of the Christian life is that
God be
prized above all things. I could also say that the ultimate purpose is the
praise of the glory of God’s grace. The reason both are aims, and both are ultimate, is that
prizing is the authenticating essence of
praising. You can’t praise what you don’t prize. Or, to put it another way,
God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him….Sin is what you do when your heart is not satisfied with God. No one sins out of duty. We sin because it holds out some promise of happiness. That promise enslaves us until we believe that God is more to be desired than life itself (Psalm 63:3). Which means that the power of sin’s promise is broken by the power of God’s. All that God promises to be for us in Jesus stands over against what sin promises to be for us without him. This great prospect of the glory of God is what I call
future grace. Being satisfied with that is what I call
faith. And therefore the life I write about in this book is called
Future Grace: The Purifying Power of Living by Faith in Future Grace….The promises of future grace are the keys to Christ-like Christian living…. By
future I do not merely mean the grace of heaven and the age to come. I mean the grace that begins now, this very second, and sustains your life to the end of this paragraph. By
grace I do not merely mean the pardon of God in passing over your sins, but also the power and beauty of God to keep you from sinning. By
faith I do not merely mean the confidence that Jesus died for your sins, but also the confidence that God will “also with him freely give us all things” (Romans 8:32). Faith is primarily a future-orientated “assurance of things hoped for” (Hebrews 11:1). Its essence is the deep satisfaction with all that God promises to be for us in Jesus—beginning now!
33This expectation of “future grace” is at the center of how Paul coped with his own wasting away in this life. When all is said and done, why did Paul not lose heart? What was it that made the renewal of Paul’s “inner self” possible? The answer is the future orientation of 4:16–18. As Piper again puts it:
The renewing of his heart comes from something very strange: it comes from looking at what he can’t see…. This is Paul’s way of not losing heart: looking at what you can’t see. What did he see? A few verses later in 2 Corinthians 5:7, he says, “We walk by faith, not by sight.” This doesn’t mean that he leaps into the dark without evidence of what’s there. It means that the most precious and important realities in the world are beyond our physical senses. We “look” at these unseen things through the gospel. By the grace of God we see what Paul called “the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ who is the image of God” (2 Corinthians 4:4). We strengthen our hearts—we renew our courage—by fixing our gaze on the invisible, objective truth that we see in the testimony of those who saw Christ face to face.
34The “unseen reality” that sustains Paul’s faith is the glory of God he saw imaged in the crucified and risen Christ (cf. 4:5–6). Paul’s confidence in God’s promise that he too would one day share beyond measure in this eternal glory kept him persevering in faith in the midst of adversity. As a result, he was being transformed “with ever-increasing glory” (3:18). God had opened Paul’s eyes to the glory of God himself in Christ, so that he had come to see that knowing God was of more value than anything the world has to offer. Thus, to listen to Piper yet again:
This means that the decaying of his body was not meaningless. The pain and pressure and frustration and affliction were not happening in vain. They were not vanishing into a black hole of pointless suffering. Instead, this affliction was “producing for [him] an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison.”The unseen thing that Paul looked at to renew his inner man was the immense weight of glory that was being prepared for him not just
after, but
through and
by, the wasting away of his body…. When he is hurting, he fixes his eyes not on how heavy the hurt is, but on how heavy the glory will be because of the hurt.
35Paul’s understanding of how “heavy” this promised “future grace” actually is and what this means for the ministry of the gospel become the subject of 5:1–6:2.