Christian life and ministry is hard. The saved are out of step, out of touch, out of place in this world. Saints walk in light while the world walks in darkness. Disciples of Jesus serve, while the world waits to be served. Believers endure suffering while the world runs away and hides from suffering. The resurrected are happy dying while the world loves the idea of not dying. Obedient children set their hope fully on the future while the world lives for now. Christians don’t belong here; they are foreign citizens, pilgrims headed for another country. They live on unseen things.

Or at least they should.

Many professing Christians in our day appear to be conformed to this world; they are at home here, or at least that’s what it seems like as they seek to make a nicer and more comfortable place for themselves. Their dress, their talk, their pursuits and entertainments are indistinguishable. They are trying to establish themselves, find a place for themselves, put down roots, and fit in. They are living on seen things.

But, it’s bizarro world. They are walking around on their heads. They are riding blindly, or maybe, riding backwards, facing the wrong direction, focusing on the wrong things. They spend their time and effort on the outer man, pampering a not quite dead corpse. They give themselves to superficial, silly, vain games (literal and figurative). They chase the wind and grasp oil in their hands. They live for the now, for the new, and they miss the truly meaningful and lasting.

It’s hard to blame them, because it is hard to stay the narrow course. Alternate routes abound everywhere on the pilgrim’s path. The entire journey requires faith, repentance, and humility. It often includes criticism. We face others who don’t understand what we’re doing, some who oppose what we’re doing, some who hate us for it. They would have us relax, quiet down, or even leave off the journey altogether.

And like we’ve bought a GPS unit with a faulty chip unknown to us, we keep trucking down the wrong road.

John Bunyan, a 17th century Puritan, lived and wrote about the pilgrim’s progress, about the dangers and difficulties of traveling to a better country, the Christian’s final home, the Celestial City. He wrote for pilgrims as a pilgrim, enduring slander and imprisonment and all sorts of trouble on his Christian journey. As he sought strength for the journey in the promises of God, he looked to 2 Corinthians 4:16-18.

We, like Bunyan, are threatened to despair, to give up, to lose heart. This is a paragraph of promise for every pilgrim.

The Pilgrim’s Confidence (16a)

Christians do not despair no matter how hard it gets.

So we do not lose heart.

This sentence starts the final paragraph of chapter four just as it launched the first paragraph of the chapter. The repetition claps for our attention. The phrase bookends the entire chapter about the apostle Paul’s life and work, and his was a hard, often ineffective, often afflicted ministry. For the sake of the gospel, Paul slaved for others (v.5), he endured difficulties to bring grace to others (vv. 7-10, 15), he died to bring life to others (vv. 10-12).

He considered himself a weak, clay pot (v. 7), carrying the treasure of the gospel ministry, suffering for and speaking about the truth of the Lord Jesus. He was afflicted, perplexed, persecuted, and struck down (vv. 8-9). He was bumped and banged around. He was worn out in his work for the Lord. Through all of it he maintained his confidence, We do not lose heart.

He means that his soul was secure. Though threatened, he couldn’t be defeated. Though tempted to wander, he wouldn’t go AWOL. He wasn’t crushed, or driven to despair, or forsaken, or destroyed. His daily dying brought grace and life to others. He wasn’t going to stop.

In the first paragraph (4:1-6) Paul explained that he didn’t lose heart because his ministry was driven by the Spirit and because it was a privileged calling. Now he highlights the promises that kept him on course.

The Pilgrim’s Concession (16b)

Even though there are great promises, even though we have confidence, it doesn’t always appear that things are okay.

Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.

Paul concedes, that is, he acknowledges and admits, that it’s not a glorious life, not now, and not visibly. He says, but (even if) our outer self is wasting away, (and it is). He yields the point as if he were in an argument, that the outer self, the exterior, the part of us that can be seen, has pain. This isn’t the “old man’ of the flesh, but it is connected to our bodies and the struggles we have in life. It recalls the earlier descriptions in chapter 4: “jars of clay” (v. 7) and “mortal flesh” (v.11).

We are wasting away, being destroyed, “decaying” (NAS), “perishing” (NKJV). The word could describe the effects of rust, slowly eating away and ruining. We are being worn out constantly. It is the aging, decaying, dying process in view here, a process always at work, however that dying might be happening. It isn’t necessarily and enemy scheming to kill us, though that would bring a sooner end. Our bodies and physical lives are being ruined.

It’s true. Our confidence doesn’t come because we escape pain and affliction. Christian pilgrims concede that it’s hard. For the pilgrim, however, for the one who has the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ in their heart, the ruin of the outer ma isn’t the only process at work. Even as the outer man is wasting away (and it is), our inner self is being renewed day by day. The inner man, the soul of a man, is being renewed, and that renewal is as constant as the sunrise, day by day. It is the resurrection of Jesus at work in every believer. It is a hidden strengthening in visible suffering.

A pilgrim’s life is hard. The pilgrim’s Lord takes care of the most important thing: his eternal soul.

Even the concession about the reality of afflictions can’t cause us to lose heart. And there is more to say, as verses 17-18 explain the renewal process.

The Pilgrim’s Consideration (17-18)

There are things taking place behind the scenes that not everyone seeks or knows about. There are principles at work in the universe, principles established by the Creator of the universe that show afflictions and hardships in this life lead to something better. Clay pot pilgrims have three considerations about afflictions.

First, consider the NATURE of afflictions. (17a)

That is, the essence, the characteristics of difficulties, are light and momentary.

For this light momentary affliction

There is no doubt that pilgrims encounter afflictions. Paul chronicled his abounding afflictions through 2 Corinthians, including being brought to the breaking point over and over (vv. 8-9). He just conceded that the outer man is wasting away. But afflictions can only do so much.

“The momentary lightness of afflictions” is a good translation. The primary focus is on the adjective light, what kind of lightness? Light afflictions. We normally feel light when we’re not afflicted. Difficulties weigh on us; they burden us. But Paul claims that they are light. How can he possibly say that?

Afflictions are not slight (insignificant, or inconsiderable), but they are light in comparison to the weight (the heaviness) of glory that is coming. So, that does not mean that our trouble is insignificant. It does bring us to our breaking point. It’s not a game; it’s not semantics. It will feel like we can’t take any more. The burden is too heavy. The point is that the pilgrim’s heavy and hard way is light and easy when put on the balance with the glory we’ll receive later.

Our afflictions are also momentary. The best they can do is consume consecutive moments. But they are confined to moments. And again, by comparison, these are short compared to the eternal weight of glory. No clock or calendar can measure the infinite duration of our coming experience. Afflictions for the pilgrim are light and momentary.

Second, consider the EFFECT of afflictions. (17b)

Afflictions are not useless or vain. They are working hard on our behalf.

this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison,

Present trouble is preparing for us an inexhaustible future of joy. The infinite and eternal glory is real. We can’t see it now, but it exists. Not only is it real, it is almost unbelievable. It is an exaggeration. Paul says it is far beyond all comparison, “far more exceeding” (KJV), a glory that “far outweighs them all” (NIV). The Greek word is ὑπερβολὴν, from which we get our English word hyperbole. It means to take something to an extraordinary degree. The glory is “according to hyperbole unto hyperbole,” one hyperbole heaped on another, meaning that it is exceeding exceedingly glorious in the highest possible degree. “You may pass from one degree to another; from one sublime height to another; but still an infinity remains beyond. Nothing can describe the uppermost height of that glory, nothing can express its infinitude” (Barns, quoted in Calvin, 213).

Our joy buckets are so small, so easily filled. We are easily satisfied. In order to know and enjoy this kind of glory, God is increasing the size of our joy thimbles, by afflictions, into honker buckets for joy. The afflictions are working for us a greater experience of glory. No pain, no glory.

It is the will of God, that they that go to heaven should go thither hardly or with difficulty. The righteous shall scarcely be saved. That is, they shall, but yet with great difficulty, that it may be the sweeter. (Seasonable Counsel, Advice to Sufferers, in The Works of John Bunyan, vol. 2, p. 725)

It is painful for the thimble to be broken, melted, hammered and shaped into a bigger bowl. It is stretching for a kettle to be heated and beaten into a cauldron. But if we would enjoy an exceeding weight of glory forever, the suffering of the present life prepares us.

Comparatively, afflictions are light and momentary. Effectively, afflictions work infinite and eternal joy for us.

Third, consider the FOCUS of afflictions. (18)

How do we know that our inner man is being renewed day by day, especially since we see the outer man being ruined? How do we know that brutal, constant suffering is for our good, and relatively short and painless? How do we not lose heart? By living on unseen things.

as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

The pilgrim either carries on or quits depending on his focus. We’re not looking on the things that are seen. “Looking” includes more intention than simply seeing what’s in the periphery. The word is σκοπέω, paying attention to, watching closely for. It is to fix the eyes upon watchfully.

The things that are seen are the things of this world. Afflictions and comforts, the outer man issues, circumstances and situations, people and problems, the clay pot being smashed and bashed. Seen things are sicknesses, bills, broken appliances, recessions, and earthquakes. Seen things aren’t only troubling things, but could also be good things such as health, resources, friendships, and family. Bunyan said of his family:

I am somewhat too fond of these great Mercies. (Grace Abounding, Works, 123)

The reason that pilgrim’s don’t look to or depend on “seen things” is because they consider that the things that are seen are transient (“temporal” NAS, “temporary” NIV). The seen things only last for a time. They are transitory, meaning they are impermanent, passing, fleeting, here today and gone tomorrow. We live on so many short-term investments, yet “the world is passing away along with its desires” (1 John 2:17).

The pilgrim can’t afford to spend his money on that which isn’t bread or his labor for that which doesn’t satisfy. Losing heart is at stake. His eternal glory is at stake. He must look to something else.

He looks to the things that are unseen. There is irony in “looking for” things that can’t be “looked at,” but what are the unseen things?

The immediate unseen thing is our soul, and the souls of men. It is the inner man. As “sojourners and exiles” we must “abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against [our] souls” (1 Peter 2:11). We ought to be sober-minded and watchful for sake of the most important unseen thing in us: our souls.

The ultimate unseen thing is God Himself. Paul wrote at the end of his testimony, “To the King of ages, immortal, invisible, the only God” (1 Timothy 1:17). The author of Hebrews wrote that “(Moses) left Egypt by faith, not being afraid of the anger of the king, for he endured as seeing him who is invisible” (Hebrews 11:27).

Bunyan himself understood God as the primary unseen thing in 2 Corinthians 4:18. In his autobiography, Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners, he wrote about his two-step plan to prepare his soul for prison.

Before I came to prison, I saw what was a-coming, and had especially two considerations warm upon my heart; the first was how to be able to endure, should my imprisonment be long and tedious; the second was how to be able to encounter death, should that be here my portion….[T]hat saying in 2 Co. 1:9 was of great use to me, “But we had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves, but God which raiseth the dead.” By this scripture I was made to see, that if I would ever suffer rightly, I must pass a sentence of death upon everything that can properly be called a thing of this life, even to reckon myself, my wife, my children, my health, my enjoyments, and all, as dead to me, and myself as dead to them. . . .

The second was, to live upon God that is invisible; as Paul said in another place, the way not to faint, is to “look not at the things which are seen, but at the things that are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.” 2 Co. 4:18. . . .

That was the key to John Buynan’s Christian journey: not to look to the seen, but “to live upon God that is invisible.” In other words, Buynan survived by living on unseen things.

“Live on” is close to “look to”; it expresses the same idea. To “live on” something is to survive solely by consuming a certain thing. Paul calls us to look to, to live on, to survive and endure by depending solely on unseen things, starting with the invisible God.

I’d like to add, though, that Paul could have said, “not looking at the seen things, but looking to the unseen God.” That’s true, but that’s not exactly what he said. I’m okay with understanding God as part, or even the primary part, of unseen things, but I think we can be more precise. When we live on unseen things, I think Paul is referring to gospel promises.

The the things that are unseen are eternal, God is eternal, but so are the promises He makes to His pilgrims. Every word of God is “living and abiding” and “remains forever” (1 Peter 1:23-25), and the promises in 2 Corinthians 4 alone are enough to live on. The promised weight of glory is eternal, and that promise keeps us going even though we’re weary now. He promises a resurrected life that is eternal, contrasted with our mortal flesh (4:11) that’s wasting away. He promises that we’ll be brought into God’s presence, and that promise is as certain as God’s Son is alive (4:14).

The gospel promises of spiritual sight, life, resurrection, fellowship with Jesus, and weight of glory are not seen now, but they are eternal. They last. They are without equal and without end. His promises are everlasting, indelible. Pilgrim’s will not work, pray, lose heart, suffer, sojourn and die unless they live on these unseen things.

Over and over in The Pilgrim’s Progress, Christian (along with his fellow pilgrims) was given faith glimpses of the Celestial City to spur his journey. Maybe the most fantastic and understated scene in The Pilgrim’s Progress finds Christian and Hopeful chained by Giant Despair in the dungeon of Doubting Castle. Despair has beaten them almost to death. They feared for their lives, and were tempted to take their lives. Then Christian remembered the key “in his bosom.”

Now a little before it was day, good Christian, as one half amazed, brake out in this passionate speech, What a fool (quoth he) am I, thus to lie in a stinking Dungeon when I may as well walk at liberty? I have a key in my bosom, called Promise, that will (I am persuaded) open any Lock in Doubting Castle. Then said Hopeful, That’s good news; good Brother pluck it out of thy bosom and try. Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom and began to try at the Dungeon door, whose bolt (as he turned the Key) gave back, and the door flew open with ease, and Christian and Hopeful both went out. (The Pilgrim’s Progress, 121)

“That’s good news;” Are you kidding? That’s good-tastic news! That needs an exclamation point not a semicolon. That noise you hear is Mr. Goose-bump knocking on the door. Giant Despair can do his worst, but there is a key called promise that unlocks all the thick doors out of the dungeon and enables our escape.

Bunyan knew the importance of promises. He said,

I tell thee, friend, there are some promises that the Lord hath helped me to lay hold of Jesus Christ through and by, that I would not have out of the Bible for as much gold and silver as can lie between York and London piled up to the stars. (Sighs from Hell, in The Works of John Bunyan, vol. 3, 721)

I’m afraid that if some of you had your choice, you would choose stacks of gold rather than the promises of God. But seen things won’t deliver anyone out of doubts and despair.

Bunyan also said,

God hath strewed all the way from the gate of hell, where thou wast, to the gate of heaven, whither thou art going, with flowers out of his own garden. Behold how the promises, invitations, calls, and encouragements, like lilies, lie round about thee! Take heed that thou dost not tread them under thy foot. (Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ, in Brown, John Bunyan, 300)

Conclusion

Are we living on unseen things, or ignoring them, or worse, despising them?

The survival of a pilgrim requires that he live on unseen things, that is, that he pay close attention to his soul, to God, and to God’s promises. Clay pots will look to get out of the rotation unless they’re held up by promises. We will lose heart if we do not live on unseen things.

One crucial clarification needs be made. According to 2 Corinthians 4, afflictions are light and momentary only for those looking on unseen things. In other words, only for those who believe the gospel promises. Those who are blinded by the god of this world to the gospel of the glory of Christ, those who remain in spiritual darkness, have “light and momentary afflictions” compared to the eternal weight of guilt and wrath being stored up for them on the day of wrath when God’s righteous judgment will be revealed (cf. Romans 2:5). Their outer self is wasting away, and there is no renewal of the inner man. The inner man is rotting and being ruined right alongside the outer man. Your pain is but a taste of more pain unless you follow Christ by faith.

For pilgrims, our pain is but preparation for eternal glory, as we live on unseen things. We sang, “What hope is in our heavenly home.” That’s not a question, that’s an exclamation. Is that true of us?

The Interpreter introduced Christian to two characters in The Pilgrim’s Progress, Passion or Patience. Passion was irritated that Passion wasn’t getting what he wanted when he wanted it. Passion was temporarily pacified, but Patience wanted for something better. Which child do we see most in ourselves? Are we whining for the now things, the visible things, the this-worldly things? Or are we happy to wait by faith for the unseen things, the lasting things, and the infinitely joyful things?

Apart from God, ministry isn’t just hard, it would be impossible. Think about some of the tasks we’re called to do. We work for unrighteous men to be declared innocent, the condemned to go free. We press diamond hard hearts to be broken and become sensitive. We labor that blind men might see, that dead men might live. The work of the ministry–assigned to believer, not only the paid staff–is nothing less than changing hearts, changing families, changing churches, and changing nations. That’s hard.

Ministry is difficult, ministry is demanding, and ministry is deadly. According to 2 Corinthians 4:12, ministry requires the constant dying of the minister. Jesus Himself made the point that “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” Seeing that fruit is exhilarating. Is anything more breathtaking than a lost soul being found? The angels think that’s exciting. Because of the gospel, our hurting brings healing. By God’s grace, our dying generates life.

2 Corinthians 4 is all about this ministry; it is tough, often ineffective from our perspective, agonizing, un-glorious work.

I was directed to this chapter by a dead man. As I considered how best to challenge our students and staff at the upcoming snow retreat, I was drawn to John Bunyan. Bunyan is perhaps most well-known for his classic book, The Pilgrim’s Progress. He is also a man who sampled the difficulties of life and ministry. He endured over 13 years in prison because he refused to stop his gospel preaching. He endured the pain of watching his second wife and his four children scrape by without him. I thought, this is a man who I want to listen to.

In his autobiography, Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners, he talks about what he did to prepare for prison.

Before I came to prison, I saw what was a-coming, and had especially two considerations warm upon my heart; the first was how to be able to endure, should my imprisonment be long and tedious; the second was how to be able to encounter death, should that be here my portion….[T]hat saying in 2 Co. 1:9 was of great use to me, “But we had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves, but God which raiseth the dead.” By this scripture I was made to see, that if I would ever suffer rightly, I must pass a sentence of death upon everything that can properly be called a thing of this life, even to reckon myself, my wife, my children, my health, my enjoyments, and all, as dead to me, and myself as dead to them. . . .

The second was, to live upon God that is invisible; as Paul said in another place, the way not to faint, is to “look not at the things which are seen, but at the things that are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.” 2 Co. 4:18. . . .

Bunyan’s approach and solace in Paul’s letter joined forces for our yearly one28 theme as well as for the snow retreat: Living On Unseen Things. That’s also how we’ve come to 2 Corinthians 4 for our study this morning. You can’t handle any paragraph in this chapter and come away without your hands smelling like affliction and anticipation. It’s a necessary chapter for souls tempted to lose heart.

For that matter, like fresh baked cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning, the sweet aroma of afflictions fills the air of the entire epistle. Paul wore the perfume of pain and persecution.

For we do not want you to be ignorant, brothers, of the affliction we experienced in Asia. For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again. You also must help us by prayer, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many. (2 Corinthians 1:8-11)

We put no obstacle in anyone’s way, so that no fault may be found with our ministry, but as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: by great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger; by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, the Holy Spirit, genuine love; by truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left; through honor and dishonor, through slander and praise. We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold, we live; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing everything. (2 Corinthians 6:3-10)

We’ll pass over his double-sided resume of afflictions in 2 Corinthians 11:23-30 where he concludes, “If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness.”

So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:7-10)

And in that context, Paul repeats: we do not lose heart. The first paragraph of chapter four started with such an affirmation, as does the final paragraph of the chapter: We do not lose heart. We are tested, we are tempted to throw our hands in the air and walk away. “If this is how it’s going to be, if this is how I’m going to be treated, who needs it?” But that response comes from a wrong understanding of ministry, and it comes from living on seen things rather than unseen things.

It has always been the case that God’s people have opportunities to bring Him praise especially in times of affliction. When His people are beaten up and used up, and yet continue to look up and speak up, God’s worth is lifted up above all else.

We saw that we have the “treasure (of gospel ministry) in jars of clay” (4:7), that the process will take wear us out in weakness till death do we break. Strong, sophisticated, successful pots need not apply, because there must be no question at the end of the day that the surpassing power “belongs to God, not us” (4:7). In God’s economy, useful pots are those being brought constantly to the breaking point; those for whom unabated death brings everlasting life to others (4:8-12).

In verses 13-15 we see Paul’s (and our) Ministry Approach (vv.13-14) and Ministry Ambitions (v.15). The point of this paragraph is that the afflictions of pot ministry manifest grace and magnify God.

Ministry Approach

Death is at work in us (v.12). Death, or better, the dying process, being used up for the sake of others, is a life-giving dying. This is how it’s always been, and there’s no reason to be surprised at fiery trial among us as if it were anything strange. We say, “Do your worst!”, fully persuaded that our ministry is in the hands of an invincible God.

There are three elements of our approach: the historical, verbal, and eschatological elements.

The Historical Element (13a)

First, we endure ministry afflictions because we stand in a long line of God’s persecuted yet persevering people.

Having the same spirit of faith according to what has been written, “I believed, and so I spoke,” (verse 13a)

This is the fourth consecutive paragraph that begins with something we “have.” 3:12–”having such a hope.” 4:1–”having this ministry.” 4:7–”we have this treasure.” Now Paul says, “having the same spirit” (v.13).

This (participial) phrase is the basis for why we speak (the main verb). It builds the stage for our boldness.

Having the same spirit doesn’t mean that we have the same Holy Spirit, though it’s safe to assume the involvement of the third Person of the Trinity. But here, spirit refers to our stance, attitude, or disposition. Our approach is no different than those who have gone before us and endured great troubles for God, who nevertheless did not lose heart.

According to what has been written, meaning the authoritative Scripture that is on record, is Paul’s reference to Psalm 116. Psalm 116 was written by a psalmist in great distress. It was used as a hymn of personal thanksgiving for God’s care in times of dire need. In particular, the writer was threatened by death, tears, and stumbling (verse 8). But he wasn’t overcome by those things, they did not cause him to lose heart. “I will walk before the LORD in the land of the living” (verse 9),

Paul quotes the LXX version of verse 10, but the point is basically the same. Even when in trouble, belief comes out through the mouth. What we say reveals what is in the heart, and trials draw out our heart like boiling water draws out the flavor from a tea bag.

We stand in a long line of God’s afflicted people. If some of the prophets and apostles were killed and persecuted (cf. Luke 11:49), we’re likely to experience similar treatment. Even more, if they call the Master of the house Beelzebub, won’t they treat the servants even worse (cf. Matthew 10:25)?

But we take courage because God is faithful to keep, and use the afflicted. We are here because of God’s work through those that have gone before us; we stand on their bruised shoulders and we stand in the same confidence in God that they did.

The Verbal Element (13b)

Second, we speak in the midst of ministry afflictions because our faith compels us.

we also believe, and so we also speak, (verse 13b)

God’s afflicted, like the author of Psalm 116, believed. They trusted God, and couldn’t help but call on Him and praise Him and offer Him a sacrifice of thanksgiving (Psalm 116:17). Likewise, afflictions pressurize faith that must find release. We are believing, therefore we are also speaking.

This speaking is any kind of verbal communication about the truth (v.2), the gospel (v.3), the glory of Christ (v.4), Jesus Christ as Lord (v.5), the glory of God in the face of Jesus (v.6). It is gospel speaking, but cannot confined to formal sermons or formal gospel presentations. It’s what comes out of our mouths when we’re squeezed, confused, criticized, and used up.

The believing speaking emphasizes boldness. This speaking is not bombast. It is not hot air. It is the inevitable consequence of being filled with faith. So Charles Spurgeon said about Bunyan, “Prick him anywhere; and you will find that his blood is Bibline, the very essence of the Bible flows from him.” So when we are pricked, when our pots are bumped and banged around, what spills out is gospel.

Interesting that Paul includes this, since the Lord had given him explicit instructions about speaking during his visit to Corinth on his second missionary journey in Acts 18.

After this Paul left Athens and went to Corinth. 2 And he found a Jew named Aquila, a native of Pontus, recently come from Italy with his wife Priscilla, because Claudius had commanded all the Jews to leave Rome. And he went to see them, 3 and because he was of the same trade he stayed with them and worked, for they were tentmakers by trade. 4 And he reasoned in the synagogue every Sabbath, and tried to persuade Jews and Greeks.

5 When Silas and Timothy arrived from Macedonia, Paul was occupied with the word, testifying to the Jews that the Christ was Jesus. 6 And when they opposed and reviled him, he shook out his garments and said to them, “Your blood be on your own heads! I am innocent. From now on I will go to the Gentiles.” 7 And he left there and went to the house of a man named Titus Justus, a worshiper of God. His house was next door to the synagogue. 8 Crispus, the ruler of the synagogue, believed in the Lord, together with his entire household. And many of the Corinthians hearing Paul believed and were baptized. 9 And the Lord said to Paul one night in a vision, “Do not be afraid, but go on speaking and do not be silent, 10 for I am with you, and no one will attack you to harm you, for I have many in this city who are my people.” 11 And he stayed a year and six months, teaching the word of God among them. (Acts 18:1-11)

Here was Paul giving himself, spending himself, dying for the Corinthians. Here also was Paul who reasoned, to tried to persuade, who was occupied with the word, testifying…that the Christ was Jesus.

I’d like to make sure something is unmistakeable. Thus far in 2 Corinthians 4, the stress has been on a ministry life, not simply a message. Last time we talked about it in terms of incarnational ministry. There is something about persons, in addition to proclamation, that God uses. God did not write His message in the sky or drop a Book from the heavens. He took on flesh and dwelt among us. So He puts His pots among people.

In our circles, we unhelpfully tend to all to one side of the spectrum: either we are truth-speakers or we are people-lovers. It doesn’t have to be a dichotomy.

The people-lovers are more likely to speak about incarnational ministry. They are the ones concerned about meeting physical needs and life example and other social concerns. Sometimes, though, they never get around to the presumed reason for their behavior and the real solution: the gospel story.

Truth-speakers, on the other hand, will defend the gospel doctrine tooth and nail, but they tend to do so from a distance, and their mouths are the only member of their bodies engaged. They are not used up, and they damage the gospel ministry by not living gospel sacrifice.

Sacrifice is crucial. It is the example of Jesus. We are your servants. And, we must tell the gospel story as we serve.

As a rule, servants aren’t criticized for serving. Slaves aren’t beaten for making sacrifices. So what is it that kept getting Paul into trouble? His mouth. He kept speaking about the offensive cross, the gospel of Christ. At the same time, his afflictions were his podium.

If you’re dying and not speaking about why you’re dying, you’re missing an opportunity for shining the light of the gospel. If you’re only speaking and not dying, your speaking may be more grating than grace-giving.

Think about John Bunyan, imprisoned for over 13 years total. It wasn’t because he was a good father and husband. It wasn’t because he gave to the poor or worked hard. It was because he wouldn’t keep his mouth shut about Jesus. Consequently, because he was afflicted, he was useful to God.

We stand in line with God’s afflicted, speaking because we are believing.

The Eschatological Element (14)

Third, we endure ministry afflictions because we will stand before God with Jesus.

knowing that he who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus and bring us with you into his presence. (verse 14)

Verse 14 is the gospel confidence, the reason our faith doesn’t give out, the solid ground of hope. Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ. Ours is a resurrection hope.

We believe and we speak, knowing that He who raised the Lord Jesus. The knowing started when God caused the light of the gospel to shine in our hearts, and the knowing continues as we mature in the gospel. In verse 14, knowing activates our speaking with fact and with future. God, the One who raised the Lord Jesus, this resurrecting God, is our God. God raises dead men.

Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves, but on God who raises the dead. (2 Corinthians 1:9)

That same God will raise us also with Jesus, using His earthly name to emphasize His humanity. It isn’t “in Jesus,” though elsewhere Paul makes that theological claim. Here we’re raised “with him,” we are associated with Him.

He “will raise us also with Jesus and will present us with you (NASB).” The presenting picture is all throughout the New Testament. Depending on the context, either God (as here) or ministers (like Paul in 2 Corinthians 11:2) are doing the presenting.

In the future, all of us in Christ will be raised with Christ and presented together before God. This keeps us speaking, and speaking boldly, and dying because we’re with Him. “What are you going to do to me? I’m with Him!”

Ministry Ambitions

In verse 15, Paul unfolds the goals, not only of the paragraph, but in some ways, the goals of the entire chapter. It summarizes the end of everything he’s described thus far, and he gets ready to repeat that We do not lose heart in the next verse (16).

There are three ambitions, three goals of this serving, sacrificing, and speaking ministry. It is the strongest 3G network on the planet.

Abounding Grace (v.15a)

The first goal is that grace would abound.

For it is all for your sake. (verse 15a)

He has twice stated in chapter four that he was a servant. All ministers are servants. That is what “minister” means: servant. He explicitly stated in verse five that he proclaimed “Jesus Christ as Lord with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake.” He worked to bring life to others by his dying (verse 12). And now he summarizes: it is all for your sake, maybe a better translation, “all (these) things are for your sake.”

What is the all that is for their sake? The all that is for them are all of the afflictions and difficulties he endured in the previous paragraph. “All of these things are because of you, that is, they are on your behalf.” All of his being afflicted, all of his being perplexed, all of his being persecuted, all of his being struck down, all of his dying. His life was spent for others. He endured every trouble that others might receive the benefit.

Paul said as much in 2 Timothy 2:10.

I endure everything for the sake of the elect, that they also may obtain the salvation that is in Christ Jesus with eternal glory.

It was in his endurance that grace was abounding. The purpose clause that finishes verse 15 does not change the subject. All things are for you so that as grace abounds. In other words, grace was abounding as he was being beat up. He was spreading grace all over the place through his dying. When his pot banged around, grace sloshed out of his pot onto those who were around.

The ESV translates, so that as grace extends. That’s fine. There is a numerical element. But I think the numerical element comes more some from the more and more people. I think a better understanding of what grace is doing is “increasing,” or abounding. The point is numerical or geographical. The point is excess. The point is a filling up and overflowing; an increase beyond what is necessary; an abounding of grace.

Grace abounds on those for whom we give our lives.

Abounding Gratitude (v.15b)

As we give our lives and as grace abounds, so does gratitude.

as grace extends to more and more people it may increase thanksgiving

There is a play on words here as well, abounding grace (χάρις) brings abounding gratitude (εὐχαριστίαν), from the same Greek root. The thanksgiving of the many is growing.

Thanksgiving should increase because grace makes the poor rich. Jesus had the same goal.

For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich. (2 Corinthians 8:9)

If gratitude does not grow around our pots, our pots probably are not filled with the gospel of grace. If the ground around us is dry, it may be because the pot is empty. Even worse, if what spills out burns the ground, it may be law coming out of the pot like the wrong fertilizer. If we encounter difficulties with reluctance, let alone resentment, thanksgiving will not abound.

We want thanksgiving to go viral. Viral means a rapid spread, and in this case, it isn’t information that spreads only, it is gratitude. If we want to see thanksgiving go viral, we’ve got to be willing to be used up and endure all things.

Abounding Glory (v.15c)

The first two goals are personal, we might categorize them as horizontal ambitions. We serve people, we want more and more people to give more and more thanks. That said, abounding gratitude is not the end. Gratitude is not the highest goal, gratitude is penultimate (next to last). The ultimate goal is God’s honor.

to the glory of God.

The ESV translation is a bit misleading. I think it is clearer to say, “All things (are endured) for you, in order that the grace–the grace increasing through the gratitude of the many–may increase to the glory of God.”

The final end is doxological, that is, God being honored as He deserves. Where does it start? Note the sequence:

1. abounding afflictions lead to
2. abounding grace, that leads to
3. abounding thanksgiving, that leads to
4. abounding glory

That shouldn’t sound new. That’s the gospel. That was the life and work of Jesus. The good news is that His afflictions delivered us from sin by grace. Our afflictions aren’t redemptive, but they are used by God to scatter and spread the grace of the gospel.

Conclusion

We must spend our lives on His behalf.

How can we maximize thanksgiving to the glory of God among the many, to the more and more, in our families, in our ministries, and in our local body?

In response to 2 Corinthians 4:13-15, I think we need:

1. Thick gratitude. We must be examples of abounding thankfulness. We must not be examples not of pettiness, bitterness, or reluctance and think that we will spread thanksgiving. Our gratitude must be thick like the lava flowing from an exploded volcano that wipes out every criticism and negative attitude and petty squabble in its way. We want a thick and sticky gratitude like a snowball rolling down a mountainside it takes out the trees of problems planted in the path. We want a gooey gratitude, impossible to clean off of someone else. If our gratitude is runny and thin, it will slide away. If we have so much gratitude that sticks on others it will limit how much negativity they can exercise. We won’t spread gratitude by being better criticizers of their critical spirits that we’ll stop them from criticizing. It’s being thick with gratitude. That will change a culture.
2. Stiff faith. We must actually believe what we say, and believe so much that we can’t shut up about it. Too many professions are plastic; they are limp and flop around in the storm. They won’t stand or anchor us. When the afflictions come, we’re not likely to speak up if we’re not strong in faith. Speaking comes from believing, if the believing is weak, the speaking will also be weak, if speaking happens at all.
3. Relentless anticipation. As we are poured out, banged up, beat around pots, sloshing grace over every side, the only way we’ll keep going is as we look to our resurrection. We will only give up our lives for others if we believe that in giving up life we gain life, that dying and death is never vain and not the end. Dying and death result in resurrection, being raised with Jesus. If we only do what is convenient, cheap, and selfish, the gratitude of others will shrivel, and then God will not be honored as He deserves.

Ministry is hard, but it is exhilarating. There aren’t many greater thrills than seeing God shine the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus in a spiritually dark heart. Watching God create life in others keeps us from losing heart.

We read (last week) in 2 Corinthians 4:1-6 that we do not lose heart because we minister as those driven by the Holy Spirit and as those defined by service. Even when our work seems ineffective–which it often is, we don’t turn to worldly or shameful techniques; we know those can’t overcome the blindness that the god of this world has caused. We keep proclaiming Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as servants for Jesus’ sake. When we slave in Jesus’ name, and when we shine the light of the gospel, God is often pleased to rescue men from the domain of darkness and transfer them into the kingdom of His beloved Son. That keeps us keeping on in confidence.

Ministry is hard because it often seems ineffective. We don’t lose heart because we’re confident in God. But ineffectiveness is not the only thing that makes ministry hard or that tempts us to lose heart. Gospel ministry, also known as making disciples, speaking the truth in love until we all reach unity, teaching and admonishing in order to present everyone complete in Christ, will exhaust and expend those who work. In fact, the gospel ministry is a death sentence. It requires the very life of those who spread the good news of life. Ministry is hard because, for ministry to be fruitful, ministers must suffer trouble and die. That’s exactly how it’s designed.

We usually see difficulties as setbacks, as hindrances to ministry. According to 2 Corinthians 4:7-12, the opposite is true. Our weakness and weariness advances the ministry. Our discomfort leads to the comfort of others. Our dying leads to others living.

In this we see that ministry is personal and painful. I say it’s personal because, throughout the paragraph, Paul emphasizes ministers as “vessels” (v.7), “bodies” (twice in v. 10), and “flesh” (v.11). Ministry happens when a person dwells among people on purpose. This is incarnational ministry. I used to chaff against the word incarnational because most of the people who used it seemed to be emergent types, those who elevated relationship above truth. But I concede, it is a good word. It’s good because we’re to follow Christ’s example, who took on flesh and dwelled among us to serve us, and, ministry-in-body seems to be the emphasis here. Ministry is about the person, but it isn’t separate from the person.

I say ministry is painful, too. Ministry demands everything we have, even our lives. It is nothing less than dying so that others may live. That process is also a way we follow the example of Jesus, and the paragraph bears it out. It’s not our death, the single event when it’s over, that’s under the microscope; it’s dying, the process of dying. Verses 8-9 are full of ongoing pain. Verse 10 states we are carrying (an ongoing thing) the dying of Jesus. Verse 11 states we are delivered over (ongoing) to death. Verse 12 states death is at work (also ongoing). Death isn’t “at work” if you’re dead.

But dying effects life. Life is in verse 10, twice in verse 11, and again in verse 12. Ministry brings life, at the cost of life. This is a theology of ministry if there ever was one. In terms of salvation, we lose our lives to find them. In terms of ministry, a person loses his life to give life to others.

The natural man does not understand how this works. It’s an unseen thing to him. He may see the results, but he can’t explain how it works, or he will explain it away, and he certainly isn’t ready to get to dying. Even we are tempted to steer clear of this. There must be other ways, more comfortable ways, less costly ways to bring good things to life. Not in the gospel ministry.

In the gospel ministry, when death is at work in us, life is at work in others. That is true, and it’s true for a reason. Our dying, physical and figurative, is not prohibitive to ministry, it is ministry. Death is at work! That’s the point of this paragraph.

But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you. (2 Corinthians 4:7–12)

In this paragraph, we’ll see death at work by considering Ministry Reality (vv. 7-10), Ministry Rationale (v.11), and Ministry Result (v.12).

Ministry Reality (vv.7-10)

Verses 7-10 form one sentence, with one primary verb, making one main statement, followed by three subordinate phrases that flesh out the reality. The main statement is:

But we have this treasure in jars of clay

Things were exciting coming out of the last paragraph, specifically in verses 5 and 6. God shines light in hearts. God gives men knowledge of His glory. God brings men into relationship with Himself in the person of Jesus. We proclaim Jesus and God makes that effective. That’s why we don’t lose heart.

We should be excited about that; we want to ride that crescendo to the top. But, the slave-heralds are not, in and of themselves, exciting. To elevate the slave-herald is to miss the point. The glorious work of a slave-herald does not make the slave-herald glorious.

Paul brings us back to earth in verse 7 with a clank. But we have this treasure in jars of clay.

What is the treasure? One option is that the treasure is the gospel message (v.3), the new-covenant news. Another option is that the treasure is the light of the gospel (v.4), the light of the knowledge (v.6), emphasizing the effect of the message. But I don’t think either of those options are sufficient. I think the treasure is the gospel ministry; the treasure is the work of getting out the message that has the effect of light-giving.

Ministry, that is, everything involved in spreading the message, was the theme in chapter three. It was the topic in chapter four verse 1, “Having this ministry.” So now in verse 7, “We have this treasure.” The flow of the epistle and the similar phrasing of verses 1 and 7 draw attention to the work. The rest of the paragraph, verses 7-12, emphasize not only a certain message, but a certain kind of life that bears the message. The treasure is not less than the gospel, but neither is it the gospel in proposition alone. The treasure we have is to speak and live the gospel in person.

That said, the persons themselves are not much to speak about. We are jars of clay (ESV), “earthen(ware) vessels” (NAS), pots made of baked dirt. We are not the treasure; we carry the treasure.

Clay pots were simple, common, inexpensive, and easily replaceable. They were made of baked earth, so it didn’t really matter how they were treated or if they got dinged up or even if they broke; you’d get another one. They were meant to be used, not admired. Treasure, on the other hand, was special, uncommon, and valuable. Clay pots might hold significant and important and unique things, but they were insignificant, unimportant, and normal.

The work we do is amazing. We are not. The ministry is glorious; ministers are not. It’s so easy to slip into wrong thinking here. The reality is that we are expendable, dispensable, meant to be used, not meant to be admired.

The Purpose (v.7b)

Compared to the treasure, clay pots are cheap. Compared to God’s power, clay pots are weak. That’s good. God puts His treasure in unworthy pots for a reason.

to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.

God’s intention for utilizing clay pots is to make it clear that God’s power is excellent. God makes use of brittle vessels in order to leave no doubt where the glory goes. In God’s economy, a pot’s weakness is an asset, not a liability.

It’s not just “power” at work, it’s surpassing power (ESV), “the surpassing greatness of power” (NAS), the “excellence of power” (NJKV), the “all-surpassing power” (NIV). No other power is comparable to His extraordinary, superlative power. Causing light to shine in darkness, creating light, is some kind of power indeed. God uses clay pots–cheap, breakable, replaceable–so that the pots don’t forget their place and so that God is exalted, not pots.

If we elevate pots, if we depend on pots, if we think ministry is about proper pot placement, or about pot maintenance or pot polishing, we are swimming against the tide of God’s purpose for ministry. Ministry requires a certain type of person, weak and cheap, so that God gets every last drop of credit.

The Process (vv. 8-9)

What does it look like for a clay pot to carry the treasure of gospel ministry? Verses 8-9 shed light. The gospel ministry is more than directing someone down the Roman’s Road, it’s more than preaching world-class sermons about Jesus from a pulpit. It is people, living among people, and suffering in gospel ways.

We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; (verses 8–9)

Though every major English translation treats these as independent phrases, they are all participles (in Greek), indicating that they are dependent, and each one hangs on the primary verb “have” in verse 7. There are four pairs of “but not”s that reveal the severity of ongoing life for clay pot ministry.

Many commentators refer to these pairs as contrasts. They are not. Some see them as paradoxes. They are not. Verse 10 presents a gospel paradox, but we’ll treat that separately. Rather, verses 8-9 are breaking points. Clay pot ministry, ministry done in and for God’s surpassing power, is a process for the pot of being used, abused, beaten, battered, and almost but not broken [instead of the usual negation μὴ + participle, Paul uses οὐκ four times, indicating the certainty]. We’re at the precipice, but He preserves us from being pushed over.

First, pots are pressed but not crushed. Paul says, [being] afflicted in every way, but not [being] crushed. Being “afflicted” means being pressured or squeezed. Things start weighing on us. What things? “All things” or “in all ways.” There doesn’t seem to be a limitation on the nature of pressing things. Whatever comes in our ministry way. However, we are not [being] crushed. It’s a play on words, but not a contrast. A contrast would be, we are pressed but we make progress. No, we’re brought right up to the point where any more pressure would crush us. We’ve been checked, but not yet at check mate.

Second, pots are confused but not clueless. Paul says, we are [being] perplexed, but not [being] driven to despair. Each participle comes from the same root (ἀπορέω and ἐξαπορέω), with the second having an additional prefix. Being “perplexed” means being confused, at a loss. We don’t know what to do or how to fix it. We’re uncertain. But we’re not totally at a loss, “not despairing.” We’re not paralyzed by our confusion. We’re not humiliated or hopeless. We are brought right up to the edge.

Third, pots are attacked but not abandoned. Paul says, we are [being] persecuted but not [being] forsaken. Being “persecuted” means being pursued, hunted, chased. We’re on the run, but not deserted or being forsaken. God doesn’t leave us when enemies come after us, whether with fists or false accusations. But having God on our side doesn’t keep us from being hunted, or feeling like we’re all alone. We’re one step ahead.

Fourth, pots are down but not out. Paul says we are [being] struck down, but not [being] destroyed. There could be physical elements to being struck down, knocked down, thrown down; Paul endured beatings and stonings. But the breaking point isn’t death, it’s ruin or loss. Many things can be ruined or lost in ministry apart from physical health or life. We are on the matt, the 10 count has started, but we get up for more.

Each of these four “but not”s are normal pot activity. This is the normal onslaught of pot ministry. These are real extremes: being afflicted, perplexed, persecuted, and struck down. If you think they’re exaggerations, you’re doing bad exegesis. But being brought to the edge of the cliff without going over is how clay pots carry the treasure and show that the surpassing power is God’s. Let me make two observations.

First, if you’re trying to protect the pot, the pot probably isn’t doing anybody any good. The pot is supposed to be used; that’s the purpose. Being pressured, perplexed, persecuted, and pushed down are normal wear and tear for pots. If you never feel weighed down, if you think you’ve got it figured out, if everyone’s your friend, if you never hit the floor, you’re probably stuck on the shelf. Pots get used. They get banged around. They get dings. They get chipped. They get left out overnight. Ministry pots aren’t saved for special occasions; these pots are for every day use. They’re valuable to the degree they are worn out carrying good stuff (treasure) to people.

A second observation, pot ministry is primarily about being used up and worn out, not about being broken. For example, you can empty a pot that’s full of expensive oil in (at least) two ways: pour out the oil or smash the pot. There is something spectacular about smashing it; it can be quite a show with shards flying through the air. But smashing the pot is one and done, and it tends brings attention to the pot. That’s what we think would make us valuable. We’re such proud slaves, that when we hear about our pot positions, we’re angling to be broken in a way that shows us off.

God does break some of His pots in spectacular ways, but most of his pots are just worn out through daily use. It would actually be easier to be broken, or at least it would be quicker. But there is a divinely designed process of patiently pouring out, filling up, and pouring out again.

The Paradox (v.10)

Verse 10 includes another dependent participle that sheds light on clay pot ministry, but I’ve separated it because it doesn’t follow the “but not” pairs and it includes a number of modifiers.

always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.

This part of ministry is a paradox, and it may also be the pinnacle of the process; the process described in verses 8-9 amounts to a life of dying. Dying is an abridged reference to suffering because all of life’s afflictions get us thinking about the end of life and the end of our afflictions.

It’s a paradox because it seems self-contradictory that carrying the dying of Jesus reveals the life of Jesus. This paradox dominates the rest of the paragraph, so we can’t skip it.

Note the instrument is “our bodies,” used twice. Our bodies carry the dying of Jesus, our bodies reveal the life of Jesus. That’s part of why I think the treasure is ministry, not merely a message. It takes a life to do this, and the process confirms, it’s “always” happening, not only during worship services or Bible studies or quiet times or programmed evangelism. The message is clear, Jesus died and rose again so that we who die with Him may also be raised again to newness of life. We rightly define and describe the gospel, but clay pot ministry also demonstrates the gospel in real life.

Carrying about is a vivid image. Men carried sick people on beds to Jesus so that He might heal them (Mark 6:55). In a figurative way, men are carried about by every wind of doctrine (cf. Ephesians 4:14; Hebrews 13:9). False teaching has a way of moving people. Clay pots are to be moved by the dying of Jesus.

I keep saying “dying” instead of “death” of Jesus because the word in verse 10 emphasizes the process, not the event. Our carrying about is ongoing, so it isn’t a one time finishes all behavior. We’re not dead yet.

The paradox is that when clay pots are in the rotation so much that their usefulness is being used up, then they are most useful.

When we die to our schedule (think: good Samaritan), to our comfort, to our budget, to our convenience, to our privacy, then we’ll see life grow around us. When we are carrying about the death of Jesus in our bodies, we are at that time showing the life of Jesus in our bodies. No dying for Jesus is wasted. That’s the reality.

Ministry Rationale (v.11)

As if Paul anticipated that we might question the logic of weakness showing power, and of dying showing life, he provides an explanation in verse 11, For (γὰρ).

For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be manifested in our mortal flesh.

The living are dying, and dying shows off the life of Jesus. We who live, or, “we, the ones living” includes all those who are spiritually alive, and so it refers to all believers. Paul’s discussion of ministry thus far primarily consisted of his apostolic calling and the work of his partners, but this clearly pulls every believer, all who have had the light shown in their hearts, all who are living ones, into the ministry of dying.

The living ones are always being given over, or, “delivered over” to death. “Given over” is an official term, as when a prisoner or criminal is sentenced and handed over to the court for punishment or imprisonment. We who live have been given a death sentence. We are assigned a life to death. Why?

Two incentives. First, for Jesus’ sake (διὰ Ἰησοῦν). This is the same phrase as in verse 5. We’re slaves because of, or for the sake of, Jesus. Now, we are being given over to death for Jesus’ sake. His incarnation was the ultimate living for dying to give life. He gave His life for our sake (salvation), and we give up our life for His sake (ministry).

Second, mortal, weak, dispensable flesh shows off the life of Jesus. The second half of verse 11 basically repeats the last part of verse 10, substituting “flesh” for “body” and adding “mortal” or merely human. Paul says essentially nothing new in verse 11 than he said in verse 10. The repetition of thought verifies the importance of the principle.

This is how things work in God’s economy. A daily dying for Jesus’ life, shows off His life.

That is not our economy. That’s not how we manage our resources. In our economy, flashy pots catch attention, even if it puts more attention on the pot than the treasure. In our economy, we’re impressed by strong pots that endure difficulty, even if they eclipse God’s power. In our economy, living leads to more living, dying leads to being overlooked.

It’s personal, but not about the person, not about the pot. He uses pots, but never to exalt pots.

Ministry Result (v.12)

Paul’s summarizes the point of the paragraph.

So death is at work in us, but life in you.

So (ὥστε) is bringing the point of the paragraph to the surface for one last look-see. The result of personal, painful, patient being used up ministry is that death is at work working life. This is the actual outcome, this is what occurred, not what he hoped for. Death is at work in us, but life [is at work] in you. “Death” condenses all of the suffering, the life of difficulty. We are liable to death, but before that, we’re tired, exhausted, overwhelmed, hurting, almost lost. That brings life. And “life” is more than breath, life is blessing.

Again, it isn’t our death, it is our dying. Death is at work, death is working. Our life, as slaves, ebbs away into others. As we’re emptied out, others are filled up. As we lose our lives, others find life. There is no sarcasm on Paul’s part, only celebration. The result of dying is life giving. That is motivation.

Conclusion

A few thoughts in review.

Difficulties in ministry are not necessarily barriers to ministry. Most of the time, ministry difficulties are occasions for ministry breakthroughs. The difference between a wall and a foundation is the angle. Obstacles become platforms with God’s surpassing power.

It seems like every great sailing story involves a storm and a smiling captain. You feel for the crew being battered by brutal conditions. So why is the captain smiling? Because strong winds move ships if the sails catch it right. A storm is an advantage to a skilled seaman. We’re land-lovers when it comes to trouble, and we often miss ministry because of it.

Also, a life of dying for sake of giving life is as much or more a practice as it is a profession. Your talk talks and your walk talks but your walk talks a whole lot louder than your talk talks. Big talkers who protect their lives are suspect. Don’t be a reluctant or self-pitying giver of your life either.

Also, for believers, a difficult life is not a destroyed life. For unbelievers, a difficult life is difficult and the beginnings of destruction. You are at the edge and you have no safety harness. Suffering leads to ministry for those who serve Christ; suffering is only misery for those who serve themselves.

Finally, be content to be worn out in His service. You may be spectacularly broken, but probably not. Most of us will fall apart over a long, drawn out life of use rather than be smashed in a moment. Must of us will be exhausted from late nights. Our testimonies will probably have more tears and sweat than prison and swords. The accumulation of aches and pains will get us before assassination attempts. Ours will be a death of a thousand little heart attacks instead of being burned at the stake. But the principle is no less effectual: when death is at work in us, life is also at work. When that happens, there’s no explanation except for God’s surpassing power.

Ministry is hard. By “ministry” I don’t mean the vocation, I mean the work. The work of the ministry is not limited to those who are paid to do it, or even those who oversee it. In fact, the primary work of pastors/elders is not to do the work of the ministry, but instead to “equip the saints for the work of ministry.” The work of the ministry is also known as making disciples, seeking to present every man complete in Christ, building up the Body by speaking the truth in love until we all attain to the unity of the faith and the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ. The work of the ministry is not less than changing hearts, changing families, and changing churches. That is hard work.

If the ministry we’re doing isn’t hard, it probably isn’t gospel ministry. In fact, if we’re not at least tempted, on occasion, to bury our head in our hands, to give up, even to walk away, we’re probably not very interested or involved much in the gospel ministry.

If you care, if you’re engaged with people in this work, you’ve probably had moments when you wondered if it was worth it, if there was reason to keep going, if you would be able to survive the onslaught.

Because most of the time, ministry is an onslaught. The long queue of people who need help, the depth of their difficulties, will strike like a storm, and you realize you haven’t finished building an ark yet. People will bring theological debate, moral bankruptcy, petty squabbles in the church, messed up marriages or prodigal kids, party spirit, and displeasure that you didn’t call. They may even make it personal, questioning your motives, criticizing you, undermining your work. You face militant unbelief and indiscriminate disobedience. You face apparent ineffectiveness. Fellow sheep aren’t always that smart, and under-shepherds don’t always know where they’re going. That’s all normal ministry. Paul faced this kind of onslaught from the Corinthian congregation.

There are other circumstances that make ministry hard. Things don’t always go as we had planned. Ministry partners bail. The car breaks down (or the ship wrecks) leaving us stranded. There isn’t enough money to pay the bills. You staid up all night but still didn’t get caught up. You’re enduring some physical pain that not only distracts, but also limits the amount of work you can do. Paul faced all of these circumstances and more and worse, to the extent that he felt “so utterly burdened beyond [my] strength that [I] despaired of life itself” (2 Corinthians 1:8).

Then there is the onslaught of personal, internal doubts and discouragements, along with a nagging sense of inadequacy for the task. Paul had these. When he couldn’t fine Titus in Troas, he found “no rest for his spirit,” meaning he was anxious and upset (2:13). He was so upset that even with a ministry opportunity right in front of him, a door wide open, he walked away. When he considered himself next to the light of the glorious ministry work, he wondered, “Who is sufficient for these things?” (2:16) God will not let those of His ministers who have great privilege be proud. He will test their sprits that they would not rely on themselves, but on God. That is hard.

So when Paul says in 2 Corinthians 4:1, “Having this ministry just as we received mercy, we do not lose heart,” I want to find some two-by-eights and frame my house on that foundation. He repeats it in 4:16 as well, and the two statements are cornerstones on which to build a solid ministry for the coming storm.

I was directed to this chapter by a dead man. As I contemplated what would help our students and staff at the upcoming snow retreat, I was drawn to John Bunyan. Bunyan is perhaps most well-known for his classic book, The Pilgrim’s Progress. He is also a man who knew the difficulties of life and ministry. He was imprisoned for over 13 years because of the ministry, refusing to give up gospel preaching. He watched his second wife and his four children scrape by, enduring his long incarceration. I thought, this is a man who I want to listen to.

In his autobiography, Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners, he talks about preparing for prison.

Before I came to prison, I saw what was a-coming, and had especially two considerations warm upon my heart; the first was how to be able to endure, should my imprisonment be long and tedious; the second was how to be able to encounter death, should that be here my portion….[T]hat saying in 2 Co. 1:9 was of great use to me, But we had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves, but God which raiseth the dead. By this scripture I was made to see, that if I would ever suffer rightly, I must pass a sentence of death upon everything that can properly be called a thing of this life, even to reckon myself, my wife, my children, my health, my enjoyments, and all, as dead to me, and myself as dead to them. …

The second was, to live upon God that is invisible; as Paul said in another place, the way not to faint, is to “look not at the things which are seen, but at the things that are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.” 2 Co. 4:18…

Bunyan’s comment and Paul’s letter are how we came to our theme in one28 for the year as well as for the snow retreat: Living On Unseen Things. That’s also how we’ve come to 2 Corinthians 4 for our study this morning. You can’t cut into any paragraph in this chapter without juice squirting into your face. It’s a necessary chapter for souls tempted to lose heart when ministry is hard.

Therefore, having this ministry by the mercy of God, we do not lose heart. But we have renounced disgraceful, underhanded ways. We refuse to practice cunning or to tamper with God’s word, but by the open statement of the truth we would commend ourselves to everyone’s conscience in the sight of God. And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled only to those who are perishing. In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake. For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. (2 Corinthians 4:1–6)

Ministry Confidence (v.1)

In a great storm of trouble, the anchor of this chapter is We do not lose heart. Not losing heart is the point of this paragraph, as well as the final paragraph in the chapter (vv. 16-18). The phrase also could be translated, “We faint not” (KJV) or “We never give up” (NLT). Not losing heart means that one doesn’t lose motivation or enthusiasm for a goal. He might be tired, but he doesn’t get so tired of it that he quits. He grows weary, but he doesn’t give up. Stated positively, it means he stays the course, not only persevering, but keeping on in confidence.

We do not lose heart. Paul and Timothy (cf. 2 Corinthians 1:1), and perhaps other ministry associates, and by application–all of us doing the work of the ministry–do not “throw up our hands and walk off the job” (The Message). Losing heart, sinking into an inconsolable and paralyzing funk, is a constant threat. Sometimes we despair of life itself. So what is our confidence?

There are two sources of, or reasons for, confidence provided in verse one.

First, ministry is driven by the life-giving Spirit.

Paul begins verse one with Therefore, or “because of this” or “for this reason.” It’s why we read 2 Corinthians chapter three for our Scripture reading. When we’re doing ministry right, it is supernatural, life-giving, life-transforming, because it is moved by the Spirit.

The Spirit of the living God makes people into living resumes (3:3); His work product is obvious. The “Spirit gives life” (v.6), the Spirit brings freedom (v.17), the Spirit transforms us into the image of the Lord (v.18), and the Spirit’s ministry leads to exceeding glory (vv.8, 18).

Because our ministry is a Spirit-driven, Spirit-empowered ministry, we don’t lose heart. We’ll see more about this in verses 5-6, but if our confidence is in us, our hearts are goners.

Second, ministry is defined as a life of service.

Not only do we lose heart when we try to minister in our own energy, we also lose heart if we have the wrong expectations. Self-glory Avenue is a one-way street to the city of Disappointment.

We do not lose heart having this ministry just as we received mercy. The word ministry means assigned service; ministry is an appointment to work hard for someone else’s gain. And we’ve received this Spirit-driven, righteousness-producing, life-and-glory-giving ministry “just as we received mercy.” It’s a comparison.

How does receiving ministry compare to receiving mercy? I think it means that (1) Ministry is sovereignly initiated. Just as God determined to give us mercy, so God designated us into a position of service. (2) Ministry is an undeserved privilege. Just as there was nothing worthy in us that obligated God to be merciful to us, so there is nothing sufficient in us for God to employ us. We aren’t worthy to serve any more than we were worthy to be saved. And (3) Ministry is mercy mission. No one who ministers was without need for God’s pity and patience, why would we withhold mercy from the unworthy?

Paul talks about this life of service in verse five again, “We proclaim ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake.” If we take up this work in any other uniform than that of slaves, we will be let down. The light socket is assigned to hold the bulb, not be the bulb.

We don’t lose heart because this ministry is driven by the Spirit and defined by service. When the elephant of difficulty sits on us and crushes the air out of our chests, the Spirit fills our lungs with confidence.

Ministry Contrast (v.2)

Paul says we do not lose heart, But we have renounced the hidden things of shame. Isn’t it odd to contrast something he was not doing with something else he was not doing? He wasn’t losing heart but he wasn’t utilizing secret and shameful ways. Maybe we could say ministry is a marathon. He was confident of finishing, but not by taking shortcuts.

One of the greatest ministry heart attacks is a sense of irrelevance or ineffectiveness in ministry. It regularly seems like people don’t get it, or they don’t want it. Ministry is full of ignored or rejected messages, as well as unappreciated or criticized messengers. The most natural response (and we 21st century, Pragmatic-American evangelicals fit the profile) is to do whatever it takes to fix the problem, make the process smoother, repackage the product, even if the advertising is questionable.

The main idea in verse 2 is that he renounced disgraceful, underhanded ways. It means that he disowned, he refused to be associated with anything that, if exposed, would bring humiliation. Not every inappropriate method or motivation is immediately visible, though some more than others, of course. But ministry is an integrity issue for Paul. He wasn’t hiding anything a Dateline reporter could dig up.

Three (participial) phrases clarify this renouncement, two of avoidance and one of pursuit: not walking in craftiness, neither distorting the Word, but commending his integrity to them before God.

First, ministry must never manipulate people.

We renounce the hidden things of shame by not walking around in craftiness, or “practicing cunning.” We refuse to use people by giving them false impressions or disguising our intentions. We don’t trick them, deceive them, or mislead them.

Second, ministry must never misrepresent Scripture.

We renounce the hidden things of shame by not distorting the Word of God, not “tampering with” the Bible. Men misinterpret Scripture by failing to divide it rightly or maliciously twisting its meaning. Men moderate Scripture, editing it to avoid causing offense. Men misapply Scripture, drawing conclusions or requiring thoughts and behavior that the Bible doesn’t. Men misuse Scripture by making biblical points for selfish reasons. Men misemploy Scripture mixing personal opinion with verses, making it difficult to distinguish the two.

Third, ministry must always manifest integrity.

We renounce the hidden things of shame by commending ourselves by the open statement of truth to everyone’s conscience before God. To “commend oneself” is to put on the table for examination. To manifest, to publish one’s life for viewing by others.

Paul and his ministry partners didn’t hide what they were doing, no behind closed-door meetings, no personal or political agendas. What you saw is what you got. They spoke about the truth openly, not less than in public preaching, but it had to be more than that because he was concerned about men’s consciences, and concerned even more about what God could see. It’s fairly easy to look good for show, but what are we like backstage? We want to give no reason for people to distrust or assume wrong motives. The best way to keep people from talking like that is to live and speak like that.

When we’re tempted to lose heart because ministry is hard and it seems ineffective, we must not entertain manipulation or misrepresentation as an option. We must manifest integrity.

Ministry Constraint (vv.3-4)

Does it seem like ministry is often ineffective? Of course it does, because it is. Ministry doesn’t always work. There’s a reason for that. There’s also a reason why changing our techniques or approach won’t work, especially if the methods involve selfish motives or immorality–those are cards in the devil’s deck. We’re not going to beat him playing his game with his cards. It’s a stacked deck.

The gospel ministry often looks as though it isn’t relevant or effective. We can’t fix it by wearing a t-shirt instead of a tie, or visa verse. We can’t fix it by having services in a warehouse or a bar, or by not having services in certain places. Well designed web-sites and social media presence can’t overcome it. More apologetics conferences won’t convince the world. Being “nice” won’t and can’t weaken resistance, let alone trickery or manipulation.

The reason the gospel ministry is so hard and seems so irrelevant and ineffective is because people can’t see it. Gospel truth is as relevant to an unbeliever as color theory is to a blind painter. You can provide an easel, an expensive brush, a palette full of the richest and most brilliant colors, and he can’t do anything but make a mess. You can engage him in a discussion about saturation and hue, you can take him to a museum of great works of art, but he cannot see what you’re talking about.

Spiritual blindness is the constraining reality for every person who is perishing. Even if our gospel is veiled, and it is, it is only to those who are perishing.

In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. (v. 4)

The god of this world is Satan. He is the “prince of the power of the air,” the ruler over the kingdom of darkness. He has been granted limited rule for a time, (“god of this aeon” would probably be a better translation for αἰῶνος). By his demon-soldiers and world system–therefore, not directly influencing each and every person–he has blinded the minds of unbelievers, those who are perishing. This doesn’t mean that he blinds all their thoughts; the blinding is to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ. There is a sort of knowledge that natural men are capable of. They can (and do according to Romans 1:18), know true things even about God. But they cannot know Him directly, they cannot know God in Jesus, and they do not love His excellency without supernatural intervention.

They aren’t perishing because they’re blind (though that could be demonstrated in other passages). They are blind because they are perishers. The problem is not a lack of light. The problem isn’t with the signal, the problem is with the receiver. The defect isn’t in the light, it’s in the mind; their mind is blind.

Ministry is hard because people are blind. Our work is often ineffective because Satan’s work is very effective. But, he is potent, not omnipotent; he’s successful, but not supreme.

Ministry Conviction (vv.5-6)

In verses 5 and 6 Paul explains even more about his confidence, he explains why his ministry method happily contrasts with so many, and he explains how any ministry can be effective in light of the constraints of spiritual blindness. It is a ministry conviction that keeps him from losing heart.

First, ministry has a clear message.

For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake. (v.5)

“We proclaim Him,” that is, Jesus Christ (Colossians 1:28). He is man–Jesus, Messiah–Christ, and Master–Lord. He’s the message. We’re not talking about us. No one came to the light because they heard about Higgins. But there is a right way to talk about ourselves, after Jesus and under Jesus. We proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord [and] ourselves as slaves for you because of Jesus. We’re slave heralds. We speak of Jesus for Jesus’ sake, that is, because He’s given us this ministry just as He’s show us mercy.

This is an amazing phrase: δούλους ὑμῶν διὰ Ἰησοῦν. The genitive “of you” is objective, “slaves serving you,” not possessive, “slaves owned by you.” And our slaving is “because of Jesus.” Men benefit from our slaving; God assesses our slaving. He’s the ruling authority, and He’s the serving example. He came not to be served, but to serve. He took on the form of a servant. He calls us to serve, and He shows us how to serve. It isn’t that everyone loves a servant, but they’re usually less suspicious of someone who serves rather than someone who is stingy and striving.

Isn’t that difficult to remember? It’s difficult to remember that we’re undeserving, mercy-receiving servants. Ministers who equip and those equipped for ministry are all in the service industry together. Of all the blue-collar job on the planet, it has as the most benefits. But there’s still no point in getting all proud. It is also difficult to keep perspective in balance that service is to men for the Master; we routinely set up shop on one side or the other. Focusing too much on serving men can lead to frustration and losing heart. Focusing too much on serving the Master can lead to distance and a guarded heart. The only way to get messy but not get messed up is to remember that we’re slaves serving men for the Master.

Second, ministry has a creative motivation.

Paul cuts open his conviction even more and exposes the marrow of the bones that keep ministry standing.

For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. (v.6)

The subject stands out in this sentence: For God–what God?–[the One] who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” [He Himself] has shone in our hearts. There is a view of God’s power, yes. There is a view of His initiation, yes. But even more, this is a view of His nature. Our God is the light-giving God, who demonstrates sovereign initiative and power because that’s who He is! That’s what He does!

On the first day of creation week, the earth was without form and void, and darkness was on the face of the deep. God said, “Let there be light.” It wasn’t light from the sun. The sun wasn’t created until day four. God, who is light and in Whom is no darkness (cf. 1 John 1), invaded creation with His light. God does the same thing in empty and dark souls.

He turns on the light. He makes the blind to see, and only He can do it. He’s not giving new revelation, He’s enabling men to see His previous revelation clearly.

Don’t we tend to lose heart when we’re trying to turn on the light with our short arms? We can’t reach he switch the switch in any man’s soul. We cannot enable the sense of sight. God must, God has–in our hearts, and God will. [Note: "Let light shine" is not an imperative, it is future indicative. There is no question about it.]

We need to use apologetics frugally. The best way to get someone out of the dark is not by explaining how darkness works, or the different kinds of darkness, or by telling them that the darkness is bad, and why their painting looks horrible. The best thing is to turn on the light, and we can’t do that.

His work is so much better anyway. It is divine. It is immediate. It is direct. It is decisive. It is self-authenticating. He needs no outside confirmations. Light is light, it needs no evidence to prove that it is. And His work is inimitable, far above our ability to copy. We can’t look under the hood to see how He does it in order to attempt building our own engine. We don’t need to.

We minister, we endure hardship, we slave for unworthy and exasperating people, we do not lose heart, because God says Let the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus SHINE! Men don’t need more evidence or a long line of reasoning; God saves. That is conviction. That is strength. That is motivation. That keeps us from losing heart.

Conclusion

It doesn’t take being beaten before we’re tempted to lose heart. The daily pressures of local church ministry caused Paul more anxiety than all the rest of his troubles (cf. 2 Corinthians 11:23-28, especially verse 28). Can you imagine the church underbelly in Corinth?

I need this. I don’t know what to do without it. I’d be bitter. I’d retaliate. I’d quit. I would lose heart. The ministry underbelly is too ugly. The hearts of people are too messy. My wisdom is too shortsighted and stamina is too pathetic.

I have to review the confidence, contrast, constraint, and conviction of ministry day by day. I have to remember that I’m a slave who slaves among men for the Master. I have to revel in the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ, all so that I can repeat with Paul: We do not lose heart.