2 Corinthians 4:16–18

Jubilate

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us all. Amen.

2 Corinthians 4:16–18 (NIV)

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

Dear congregation,

“This Sunday is called Jubilate – rejoice!

But sometimes this word does not fit our lives at all. Paul knows this. He does not write these lines from a happy phase, but in the midst of exhaustion, conflict, and disappointment. Paul had every reason to feel downcast. He was discouraged and sad. He was disappointed and exhausted. 

The passage we reflect on today is a few sentences from his so-called “Letter of tears.” In this way, Paul seeks conversation with his brothers and sisters in faith who have made him so sad. They have hurt and offended him. They questioned his credibility and confronted him painfully with his weaknesses. Paul does not withdraw in offence and hurt, but seeks contact and clarification.  

Everything had begun so wonderfully. On his second missionary journey, the congregation in Corinth was founded, around the year 50 AD. Corinth was a wealthy city. Craftsmanship flourished. Trade grew. The colourful port city developed quickly and became a centre of politics and economy. Paul regretted how some Corinthians displayed their wealth and lost their moral compass. Whoever could afford it lived by the motto: “Whatever I want, I buy!”

Power and consumption – Just imagine! This already existed back then?

At the beginning, the congregation in Corinth likely consisted of about 50 people—a relatively small group. The congregation was small but full of tensions: rich and poor, 

free and enslaved, women and men. Even at the Lord’s Supper, these differences became visible. Paul calls for unity—but his criticism provokes counterattacks.

About four years after its founding, Paul criticized the practice of the Lord’s Supper, where social differences suddenly played a major role. Wealthy members indulged themselves at the meal, which at that time was connected to an actual shared supper. Because of their financial freedom, they were the first to arrive in the evening. They did not wait for workers, women, and slaves. They were hungry and ate everything. They showed no consideration.

Paul wrote about this and admonished the congregation toward unity. You know the passages from the first letter to the Corinthians well. His image of One body, in which all members are equally important, arises in this context. The second letter to the Corinthians was written about a year later, while Paul was travelling on his third missionary journey.

His letter had not gone unanswered. As is often the case: well-intended criticism is not well received. Instead, Paul is sharply attacked: “Who are you to think you can tell us anything?” It does not stop at this question but turns into personal insults: Paul stutters too much and is not a good speaker. And someone who stutters surely does not have the Holy Spirit.

Meanwhile, other prophets and apostles had appeared in the city. They preached in the young congregation—and, surprisingly, they spoke no good of Paul. All the problems the Corinthians have—Paul is to blame. If Paul were a better preacher, if he had better contact with the youth, if Paul… then everything in Corinth would be fine. 

There it is: Paul is to blame—he is insulted and humiliated. We, the important men in Corinth, are strong—and you, Paul, are weak.

This is a simple solution. A full-scale attack: one person is to blame when things are not going well in a congregation. One person is too weak; he simply needs to be stronger and better. And just like that, the issue of the Lord’s Supper is off the table. The Corinthians no longer need to examine themselves—their lifestyle, their faith, their theology. All of that becomes unnecessary, because Paul is simply no longer the right apostle.

This is the context in which Paul writes these lines.

Paul first defends himself and emphasizes that his calling is a divine calling. It is clear how much the accusations affect him—yet he does not give up and does not allow himself to be defeated. Paul is at peace with himself and with his God. That helps him. He tries once more to reach the Corinthians. And in doing so, he describes three things that sustain him.

First: Paul speaks of an outer and an inner person. Outwardly, he has grown tired. The conflicts cost him strength. The attacks hurt him. Paul clearly feels his limits. And yet he experiences something else at the same time: an inner renewal. God does not leave him empty. The inner person, his soul, is renewed day by day.

This does not mean that everything becomes indifferent to him. But the disappointments no longer completely define him. They do not accumulate; instead, he finds strength for forgiveness and reconciliation. The injuries do not harden him. Instead, Paul finds strength to approach the Corinthians again. God gives him the possibility of dealing differently with hurt and offence.

Second: Paul places present suffering in a larger context. He does not look only at what burdens him at the moment. He looks beyond it. “What is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

Paul knows: conflicts have power. Words can wound. People can make life difficult for one another. But all of this is not the final word. The voice of the Old Testament preacher resonates in Paul: everything has its time. 

Therefore, Paul does not resort to outward strength. He does not try to tear others down or to elevate himself. Instead, he trusts in another power: God’s power. And this power does not show itself in human superiority. The strong God becomes visible in the weak Jesus.

Third: Paul reminds the congregation that what is decisive is not always visible. God’s Spirit cannot be measured—not by success, influence, or outward strength. God often works in hidden ways, yet truly.

Where God’s Spirit is present, the way people look at one another changes. There is no longer a need for scapegoats. No one has to be blamed. Reconciliation can grow. And sometimes people suddenly recognize something they could not see before: that God has long been at work in their midst.

“…we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen…”

What I particularly appreciate about Paul’s response is this: he trusts that God is at work, even where he does not immediately see or understand it. Paul is certain that no human being—no matter how rich, influential, or strong outwardly—can measure God’s presence, the working of the Holy Spirit.

Paul trusts this invisible yet effective Spirit. He does not confuse God’s invisible Spirit with what the world currently considers strong and right. All of that passes away. What is unseen is eternal.

In his first letter to the Corinthians, he expresses it somewhat differently: love remains. The greatest invisible gift is a glimpse of eternity that God has placed in our hearts.

Thus, even the most powerful, influential, strong, and wealthy people may think they control the world — Paul would say: everything has its time. Let us continue to trust in the invisible love and experience that it remains.

A final thought: what does this mean for our congregation, for our lives?

Our congregation will continue to flourish and grow where we hold together in God’s love and allow God to give us reconciliation and fellowship.

A congregation is not first renewed through better concepts or stronger personalities.

A congregation lives where people allow themselves to be renewed by God’s Spirit.

Our congregation is renewed by God: in every Lord’s Supper, where we come before God together and pray.

And perhaps then we understand better why this Sunday is called “Jubilate.”

Jubilate—rejoice!

Not because our lives are always easy, but because Christ is in our midst.

In the Lord’s Supper this becomes visible: we receive bread and wine. That is visible. Yet only a little is visible. God also works invisibly during the meal. God connects what is broken. God builds a bridge between those who are hurt and those who have hurt them.

God strengthens what has grown weary. God renews the inner person.

Therefore, we do not celebrate our strengths. We celebrate the invisible presence of God— and His love that remains.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.