2 Corinthians 4:16Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

Indeed, the more the body suffers, the more the soul has good hopes and the more it is illumined, like gold much tested by the action of fire.

See how he takes away the force of the sorrows of the present life. “For our light affliction,” he says, “which is but for a moment, works for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen” (vv. 17-18).

He places the whole matter in hope. As in the Epistle to the Romans he said, “For we were saved in hope. But hope that is seen is not hope” (Rom 8:24), so here also he leads the hearer to the same point.

He sets the present against the future, the temporary against the eternal, the light against the burdensome, and affliction against glory.

Not content with this contrast, he adds another expression and intensifies it, saying, “works for us a far more exceeding” (καθ υπερβολήν εις υπερβολήν).

Then he shows how the weight of sorrows becomes light. How? “While we look,” he says, “not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen.”

If we turn our gaze away from what is seen in this way, the present will be light for us and the future great. “For the things which are seen are temporary.” Therefore sorrows also are temporary.

“But the things which are not seen are eternal.” Therefore the crowns are also eternal.

He did not say, “sorrows alone are temporary,” but all things seen, whether sorrow or joy. Thus we do not become slack in joy, nor are we burdened by sorrows.

For the same reason, when speaking of the future, he did not say, “the kingdom is eternal,” but “the things which are not seen are eternal.” This applies whether it is the kingdom or torment, so that we may fear the latter and strive for the former.

Thus it has become clear to us, from the example of the servants and from the example of the Lord Himself, that the power of fasting is great and that much benefit comes to the soul from it.

Therefore I beseech your love: knowing the benefit of fasting, do not deprive yourselves of it through negligence. When it arrives, do not grieve, but rejoice and be glad, according to the words of blessed Paul: “Though our outward man is decaying, yet the inward man is being renewed.”

Indeed, fasting is food for the soul. Just as bodily food fattens the body, so fasting strengthens the soul. It gives it a light flight, makes it able to rise to the height and think on things above.

It sets the soul above the pleasures and delights of the present life. Light ships cross the seas more quickly, while those weighed down with much cargo sink.

So also fasting, making our mind lighter, helps us quickly cross the sea of the present life. It helps us hasten toward heaven and heavenly things, not valuing the present, but considering it more worthless than a shadow and dreams in sleep.

By contrast, drunkenness and gluttony weigh down the mind and fatten the body. They make the soul a captive, tossing it from every side.

They do not allow it to have a firm foundation in judgment, but compel it to be carried among cliffs and to do everything to the harm of its own salvation.

Let us not, beloved, be careless in arranging our salvation. Knowing how many evils flow from lack of self-control, let us strive to avoid its harmful consequences.

The more the body suffers, the more the soul has good hopes and the more it is illumined, like gold well tested by the action of fire."

To this Bishop Theophan adds: "External sorrows, through faith and grace, place the sufferer in close communion with the sufferings and death of Jesus Christ.

For this reason they become channels of the life of Christ, which renews the inward man. Hence it follows that sorrows serve as a pledge of eternal glorification."

Then, explaining the Apostle's words, "while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen," he says: "In the arenas, those who run on horses or on foot fix their whole gaze on the mark, skopos.

They do not turn their attention to anything else. When grace comes and awakens the spirit, one of its first demands is renunciation of visible things.

This means renunciation of the supports, hopes, and consolations supplied by visible things and persons, and a turning toward the invisible. The invisible alone becomes truly existent. The visible becomes phantomlike and vanishing, as indeed it is in reality.

What, then, is the invisible? God, and all that He gives to taste to those who draw near to Him."

"Therefore," concludes St. John Chrysostom, "since the visible is temporary and the invisible eternal, let us stretch our gaze toward the invisible."

At the beginning of the chapter he said the same: “Having this ministry, we do not lose heart.” There it followed after he had said that in the divine economy of the New Covenant all are brought into contemplation of the glory of God with unveiled face.

They are brought in so as to be transformed into the same image from glory to glory. His thought was this: how could one not serve such a most glorious work gladly, ignoring every outward inconvenience?

Here he teaches the same after expressing confidence that we shall be glorified together with the Lord after the resurrection.

Having such a glorious lot in view for the future, he says, “we do not lose heart,” despite the surrounding sorrows, calamities, and mortal dangers.

“We do not grieve, we do not give ourselves to faintheartedness, but endure everything courageously” (Theodoret).

We do this “knowing the power of God, which even now delivers us from every calamity and in the future will raise us in glory” (Theophylact).

We also do it “seeing how everything done and endured by us turns to the increase of glory and thanksgiving to God” (Oecumenius).

Yet all that we endure is not without relation to the future life. The future life will correspond to spiritual progress here. Outward sorrows perfect the spirit.

Let the outward man decay. From this, or amid this, the inward man is renewed day by day.

The outward man is the body with what it needs and with what it shares in. The inward man is the spirit and the soul (Theophylact, Oecumenius).

The inward man is the same as “the hidden man of the heart” (1 Pet 3:4). It is the self-conscious and free spirit, with its activities: fear of God, conscience, and dissatisfaction with anything created.

Such is he in the natural order. Under the action of grace, however, he reverently stands before God, contemplating Him with love in stillness.

He walks unwaveringly in the commandments of God, having the law of his God in his heart. For this he is filled with joy in the Holy Spirit, tastes how good the Lord is, and loses taste for everything that is not the Lord’s.

All these manifestations of the spirit under the action of grace begin from the first moment of birth into the new life. Yet they grow and strengthen gradually, chiefly from gracious influences, but also considerably from the outward conditions of a person.

Outward prosperity can greatly hinder his perfection. Outward sorrows greatly help it, keeping the spirit detached from everything.

They give it the possibility of receiving gracious influences with its whole fullness and directing all its efforts toward its own growth, without being distracted by anything extraneous.

This is what the Apostle means when he says that when the outward man decays, the inward man is renewed day by day.

Saint Chrysostom says, “How does the outward man decay? When it endures scourging, persecutions, and countless other calamities.

And how is the inward man renewed? By faith, hope, and zeal. The more the body suffers, the more the soul has good hopes and the more it is illumined, like gold much tested by the action of fire.”

It is self-evident that this decay of the outward man renews the inward man not unconditionally, but under the condition of grace, faith, and life according to faith.

Renewal does not properly come from this decay, but is helped by it, while having its own special source.

The decay of the outward man either happens involuntarily or is arranged voluntarily. Its meaning and action are the same. It helps the renewal of the inward man by nourishing fear of God in the soul.

It enlightens the conscience and detaches one from everything created, from every earthly attachment.

Besides calamities and sorrows, the decay of the outward man is also accomplished by reducing food and drink, sleep and rest. It is accomplished by withdrawal from the distraction of the senses through solitude.

It is also accomplished by cutting off cares, by the general wearing down of the body, and by contentment with the most extreme measure of what is necessary, while withdrawing from much turmoil.

Such an order of life already presupposes the birth of the inward man. It presupposes it, but does not directly indicate it, for all this can also be done outwardly.

The true inward man is one born by grace, and by grace nurtured and renewed. When this exists, the decay of the outward man is necessarily required.

Only in this case does this decay help the renewal of the inward man. Without this, through the decay of the outward man, the inward man is never renewed in the proper way.