Feast of Saint Matthew , 2002
2 Corinthians 4:1-6

Kings and emperors have always had messengers to carry letters for them. In the past, letters were written on tablets of wax, clay, or on papyrus. Sometimes messages were simply memorized. At the time of Christ the Romans set up a postal system, but only the emperor could use it. Private companies carried ordinary people's letters, but these were expensive. People of more humble means like the apostles depended upon their colleagues to deliver their mail. This required long and dangerous journeys by water or land. The apostle Paul used Timothy, Titus, Epaphroditus and others.

What are the circumstances surrounding the letters to the Corinthians? During his missionary trips, the apostle Paul had planted the Church at Corinth. He was the founder. But after Paul left, certain false teachers infiltrated the ranks. These men were not good. They poisoned the minds of the Corinthian members. They promoted themselves while discrediting Paul. False doctrine and immoral living were their trademarks. In response, the apostle sends letters to Corinth by the hand of Titus. What was the purpose? The letters were written to defend the ministry of Paul and Titus, and refute the accusations of the imposters. Today we observe the Feast of St. Matthew. What do the Corinthian problems have to do with Matthew? Not much. Except, Matthew too was an apostle and surely faced similar difficulties in his ministry, difficulties common to all of us.

Second Corinthians 4:1 says, "Therefore, since we have this ministry we do not quit." Apparently the imposters were trying to oust Paul. In reply, the apostle declares, "I'm not going to let these intruders intimidate me. They want me to abandon my ministry among you, but I'm not giving up." In the face of opposition, frustration, fatigue, and an embarrassing shortage of success, Paul would persevere. He would stop at nothing. Can we learn something from the apostle's tenacity? Yes, in our efforts to serve God and others, we too are subject to human frailties and become bitterly disappointed. People give us a hard time. Depressing thoughts make us imagine that our work is in vain. Giving up begins to look very inviting.

Examples abound: the father who leads his family in devotions may begin to think that his spiritual leadership is unnecessary. The mother who home schools her children may doubt the advantage of her task. The Sunday School teacher may become discouraged at the miniscule progress of his class. The missionary striving to learn a second language may bog down at its immense complexity, and desire to quit. The wife who feels something is lacking in her marriage may entertain the possibility of divorce. The long grind of study wears down the college student attempting to get a degree. In the face of hardship and criticism, the temptation to quit is a powerful one.

How do we overcome it? Consider the positive side of things. The people who refuse to quit bless everyone. Isn't that right? The priest who ministers faithfully, the marriage partners who hang in there, the fathers and mothers who raise up godly offspring, the author who writes a good story, the musician who performs beautifully, the entrepreneur who offers excellent service, the artist who creates a masterpiece: all these are involved in endeavors that build up and adorn Christ's kingdom. Do you suppose they never encounter resistance? Never slog through the swamps of despondency? Impossible! They keep going in spite of it. The Spirit of God grants them a tenacity that allows them to triumph. The best things in life always involve steadfastness in overcoming obstacles.

St. Paul goes on to say in verse two, "We have renounced the hidden things of shame." This probably refers to secret practices that are dishonorable and sensual. The intruders at Corinth are guilty of this, and their immorality was marked by craftiness. Sin is usually practiced clandestinely. A sneaky sin of a growing number of ministers today is the habit of playing with pornography.

I remember when my parents attended an out-of-town conference. Instead of taking us four kids, they farmed us out to a couple families in the Church. One family agreed to baby-sit my brother and me, the other would take care of my two sisters. It sounded fun. We would stay with a family that had two boys our age, plus their much older sister. My brother and I were given the daughter's bedroom and she slept on the living room couch. In the middle of the night I was wakened by a tapping on the window. It was a tall guy looking in. He quietly slid open the window and jumped through. I was trembling with fright. The older daughter arrived just in time. She whispered, "Don't worry, that's my boyfriend." Come to find out, these middle-of-the-night trists were normal for them. Her parents did not approve of her seeing him, so they did things under cover of darkness.

St. Paul states, "We have renounced the hidden things of shame, not walking in craftiness nor handling the word of God deceitfully, but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God" (2 Cor. 4:2) What a blessing it is to tell the truth! You don't have to worry about covering up your previous lies. That was Paul. He was above board in his teaching and conversation. With him, you got what you saw. Which does not mean he was faultless. He had has own sins to wrestle with and renounce. The truth is there are certain sins to which every Christian must say a decided No. Every day we are to take up the Cross of Christ and repudiate our pride and lawlessness. Are you renouncing the sins that beset you? If they are not sexual sins, they are nonetheless abhorrent to God: What about vanity, greed, envy, or irritability? Are you shunning these hidden things of shame? They do not please God. Furthermore, where there is not daily renunciation, where there is not a constant struggle against sin, it must be questioned whether there has been any true Christian conversion.

Moving on. In verse three St. Paul says, "But even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing." It would appear that Paul's critics accuse him of being a poor preacher. How is that so? The small number of converts to Paul's preaching means that his message is veiled. A polished preacher would have better results. Does Paul deny this? Not completely. He admits that he is not an impressive speaker. He looks unbecoming; tradition says he was a short guy with bad hair. Moreover, his delivery was poor. He confesses that he did not come to them with eloquence, superior wisdom or wise and persuasive words. He writes well, but in person his presence is mediocre. He says, "You claim my message is veiled. You are correct. It is veiled to those who are perishing." In other words, it was not the content of his message that was veiled. The rays of gospel light that Paul preached were unimpeded by any shade or shadow. Rather, the veil lay over the hearts and minds of those who would not accept it. Paul's gospel was clear. The veil of unbelief was the fault of men and women who heard the gospel and rejected it. The absence of its saving effects in their lives only showed their blindness, while the glory of the Gospel continued undiminished.

This concept that a veil lies over the hearts of people explains the inability of man and the grace of God. Let's explore that idea for a while. The Bible characterizes fallen men and women as dead in their sins, enslaved to Satan, blind to the gospel, and totally unable to raise themselves out of their fallen condition (Eph. 2:1-3; Ezekiel 37:1-14). In our passage, Paul declares that the hearts of unbelievers are veiled; Satan has blinded their minds, their eyes are unable to see gospel light. This truth is related to original sin. What is original sin? It concerns our first sin in Adam. Every descendent of Adam shares the guilt and corruptions of a fallen, rebellious nature (Romans 5:12-14). Sin is pervasive in his being and utterly debilitating in its effects. The result is a total inability on the part of each sinner to seek after God unless God first enables and draws him (Romans 3:9-12; especially 11b).

St. Paul had personal experience of sin's deep-rootedness. He knew what it meant to be blinded by sin. God showed him that on the Damascus Road. He also knew what it meant to have the scales of his blindness removed. The power of God alone accomplished that. A similar thing happened to Matthew. Matthew 9:9 explains that Matthew was sitting at his tax table. Jesus saw him, and said to him, "Follow Me." Matthew got up and followed. Lifting the veil of unbelief can be that simple.

Original sin is not a flattering doctrine. We don't like to hear it, but it is necessary. It is the foundation of salvation. Just as Lazarus did nothing to raise himself from the tomb, the man who is perishing can do nothing to contribute to his salvation. He does not cooperate with God in his own salvation -- because he cannot. He can do absolutely nothing to save himself. How does an unbeliever lift the veil of unbelief? He can't. God makes it happen. This notion that we earn our salvation or cooperate with God in our salvation is anathema to the gospel of grace. It leads to man-centeredness rather than God-centeredness. The person saved by God's grace responds with repentance and faith; repentance for his rebellion against God, and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. God saves him by the gracious, sovereign act of the new birth in baptism (John 3:7-8). We should point out that there is a place for cooperation. We cooperate with God in our sanctification. After an unbeliever has been born again, he does cooperate with the Spirit of God in the daily battle against sin, but until he is made alive he can do nothing that is really good.

Let's look at verse five. "For we do not preach ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord, and ourselves your bondservants for Jesus' sake." What does it mean, "We do not preach ourselves?" Is St. Paul answering another accusation from his detractors? Most likely. They were accusing him of ministerial arrogance and self-promotion. If so, he denies it. Paul was certainly a man who practiced genuine humility. He did not commend himself or preach for the limelight. Actually it was Paul's critics who craved public adulation, and attempted to turn the Corinthian believers into servile followers. That was not Paul's style. As an apostle of Christ, he had that right. With the miracles he performed and the position he held he could have had everyone groveling. But he didn't resort to domination. He was there to serve them. He insists that he was merely their bondservant. Doulos is the word used. It actually means slave. He could have demanded slavish servility, yet he was content with the role of a servant at their service.

This is a good word for pastors. Many of us struggle with this issue of ministerial authority. On the one hand, our nation is so anti-authoritarian that American society recoils at the notion of hierarchy altogether. Some pastors shrink away from the exercise of leadership. On the other hand, in an attempt to correct the anti-authoritarian model that prevails some have gone too far in the opposite direction. Pastors set themselves up as little dictators. The pastor's word is binding; absolute submission is demanded. He requires unquestioning conformity on matters small and large. Flight from leadership and tight all-controlling leadership: these are the two extremes. Neither of them is biblical. Of course authority is necessary in the Church. That is why we have Deacons, Priests, and Bishops. Yet, hierarchy is balanced by a couple things: first, the minister must see himself above all as a servant in the parish. Paul says, "We are your bondservants." Second, the parishioners should be able to question the decisions of their Priest or Bishop, as long as they do it respectfully.

Our last verse for today hearkens back to te first day of creation. St. Paul writes, "For it is God who commanded light to shine out of darkness, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." What did God command in Genesis 1:3? The earth was without form, and void; and darkness was on the face of the deep Then God said, "Let there be light." In other words, salvation can be described as turning on a light bulb. The veil of unbelief is lifted. The light comes on. Truth now looks brighter than the sun. "The light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ" shines brightly in the soul. What a glorious light it is!

Paul is giving a reason why there is no place in the ministry for self-seeking attention. Why? The believer's experience of salvation is all of God, nothing of self. For those who are lost, a veil covers their minds. They can't see the glory of Christ. Spiritual enlightenment can come only through the intervening grace of Almighty God. Left to himself, the sinner stumbles in darkness. Do you see God's finger in your life? At the moment a person comes to Christ in faith and repentance he might actually come to believe that he is the one responsible for attaining his own salvation. That doesn't last long. Looking back, most Christians come to realize that it was totally of God.

Are you one of those who enjoy the light of the gospel? Give glory to God. The Eucharist is an opportunity for giving thanks to Jesus. Come to your Savior. It is He who lifted the veil of your unbelief. It is He who delivered you from the power of darkness and made you a partaker of the inheritance of the saints in light (Colossians 1:12 ff).

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