John Calvin Commentary 2 Corinthians 4

Having this ministry. He now returns to a commendation of himself personally, from which he had digressed into a general discussion regarding the dignity of the gospel. Therefore, just as he has been discussing the nature of the gospel, so he now shows how faithful and upright a minister of it he is.

He has previously shown what is the true gospel of Christ. He now shows that what he preaches is such. “Having,” he says, “this ministry”—that ministry, the excellence of which he had extolled in such magnificent terms, and the power and usefulness of which he had so abundantly demonstrated. Therefore, so that he might not seem to extol himself too much, he first states that it was not by his own efforts or merits that he had reached such a pinnacle of honor, but he had been led forward by the mercy of God exclusively. Now, more was implied in making the mercy of God the reason for his apostleship than if he had attributed it to the grace of God. We faint not; that is, we do not lose heart, nor are we deficient in our duty, in such a way that we would fail to discharge it faithfully.

But renounce the hidden things. While Paul commends his own sincerity, he, on the other hand, indirectly rebukes the false Apostles. These individuals, by their ambition, corrupted the genuine excellence of the gospel, yet they were nevertheless eager for exclusive distinction. Therefore, Paul indirectly attributes to them the faults from which he declares himself to be exempt.

By the hidden things of disgrace, or concealments, some understand the shadows of the Mosaic law. Chrysostom understands the expression to mean the vain show by which they sought to recommend themselves. I understand it to mean all the disguises with which they adulterated the pure and natural beauty of the gospel.

For just as chaste and virtuous women, satisfied with the gracefulness of natural beauty, do not resort to artificial adornments, while harlots never think themselves sufficiently adorned unless they have corrupted nature, so Paul glories in having presented the pure gospel, while others presented one that was disguised and covered over with unseemly additions.

Because they were ashamed of the simplicity of Christ, or at least could not achieve distinction through the true excellencies of Apostles, they framed a new gospel, not unlike a profane philosophy, inflated with empty bombast, while altogether devoid of the efficacy of the Spirit. He calls spurious ornaments of this nature, by which the gospel is disfigured, the concealments of disgrace, because the nakedness of those who resort to concealments and disguises must necessarily be dishonorable and disgraceful.

As for himself, Paul says that he rejects or disdains disguises, because the more Christ’s face is revealed in his preaching, the more gloriously it shines forth. However, I do not deny that he also alludes to the veil of Moses (Exodus 34:33), which he had mentioned, but he ascribes a quite different veil to the false Apostles.

Moses covered his face because the excessive brightness of the glory of the law could not be endured by tender and bleary eyes. They, on the other hand, put on a veil as an ornament. Besides, because they would be despicable, indeed infamous, if the simplicity of the gospel shone forth, they therefore hide their shame under so many cloaks and masks.

Not walking in craftiness. There can be no doubt that the false Apostles greatly delighted in the craftiness that Paul rebukes, as if it were a distinguished excellence. We see even today that some, even among those who profess the gospel, would rather be considered subtle than sincere, and sublime rather than solid, while meanwhile all their refinement is mere childishness. But what can one expect? It delights them to have a reputation for acuteness, and on that pretext, they receive applause from the ignorant. We learn, however, how Paul regards this appearance of excellence: he declares craftiness to be unworthy of Christ’s servants.

Regarding what follows—nor handling deceitfully—I am not sure that this sufficiently brings out Paul’s meaning. For the verb δολοῦν does not so properly mean acting fraudulently, as it means what is called falsifying, as horse-jockeys are accustomed to do. In this passage, at least, it is contrasted with upright preaching, consistent with what follows.

But by manifestation of the truth. Paul claims this credit for himself: that he had proclaimed the pure doctrine of the gospel in simplicity and without disguise, and has the consciences of all as witnesses of this in the sight of God. Since he has contrasted the manifestation of the truth with the disguised doctrine of the sophists, he appeals the decision to their consciences and to the Judgment Seat of God. This is in contrast to those who exploited the mistaken judgment of people, or their corrupt affections, and were not as desirous of actually being worthy of praise as they were eager to appear so.

From this, we infer that there is a contrast here between the consciences of people and their ears. Let the servants of Christ, therefore, consider it sufficient to have demonstrated their integrity to the consciences of people in the sight of God, and pay no regard to the corrupt inclinations of people, or to popular applause.

But if our gospel is hid—it might have been an easy thing to slander what he had said about the clarity of his preaching, because he had many adversaries. He repels that slander with stern authority, for he threatens all who do not acknowledge the power of his gospel, and warns them that this is a sign of reprobation and ruin.

“Should anyone affirm that he does not perceive that manifestation of Christ of which I boast, he clearly shows himself, by this very sign, to be a reprobate, for my sincerity in the work of instructing is clearly and distinctly perceived by all who have eyes. Those, therefore, from whom it is hidden, must be blind, and lacking all rational understanding.”

The point is this—that the blindness of unbelievers does not diminish the clarity of his gospel; for the sun is not less resplendent, though the blind do not perceive its light.

But someone will say that this applies equally to the law, for in itself it is a lamp to guide our feet, (Psalms 119:105), enlightens the eyes, (Psalms 19:8), etc., and is hidden only from those who perish.

I answer that, when Christ is included in the law, the sun shines forth through the midst of the clouds, so that people have light enough for their use; but when Christ is separated from it, there is nothing left but darkness, or a false appearance of light, that dazzles people’s eyes instead of helping them.

It is, however, a sign of great confidence that he ventures to regard as reprobates all who reject his doctrine. It is fitting, however, that all who would be regarded as ministers of God’s word should be endowed with similar confidence, so that with fearless confidence they may unhesitatingly summon all the adversaries of their doctrine to the judgment-seat of God, that they may bring from there a sure condemnation.

Whose minds the god of this world—He intimates that no account should be taken of their perverse obstinacy. “They do not see,” he says, “the sun at midday, because the devil has blinded their understandings.” No one who judges rightly can have any doubt that the Apostle speaks of Satan. Hilary, as he contended with Arians who abused this passage, using it as a pretext for denying Christ’s true divinity while they at the same time confessed him to be God, twists the text in this way: “God has blinded the understandings of this world.” In this he was afterwards followed by Chrysostom, in order not to concede to the Manicheans their two first principles. What influenced Ambrose does not appear. Augustine had the same reason as Chrysostom, having to contend with the Manicheans.

We see what the heat of controversy does in carrying on disputes. If all those men had calmly read Paul’s words, it would never have occurred to any one of them to twist them in this way into a forced meaning; but as they were harassed by their opponents, they were more concerned to refute them than to investigate Paul’s meaning. But what occasion was there for this? For the subterfuge of the Arians was childish—that if the devil is called the god of this world, the name of God, as applied to Christ, does not express a true, eternal, and exclusive divinity. For Paul says elsewhere, many are called gods (1 Corinthians 8:5); but David, on the other hand, sings forth—the gods of the nations are demons (Psalms 96:5). Therefore, when the devil is called the god of the wicked, on the ground of his having dominion over them and being worshipped by them in the place of God, what tendency does this have to detract from the honor of Christ? And as to the Manicheans, this appellation gives no more countenance to the Manicheans than when he is called the prince of this world (John 14:30).

There is, therefore, no reason for being afraid to interpret this passage as referring to the devil, as there is no danger in doing so. For if the Arians should come forward and contend that Christ’s divine essence is no more proved from his having the appellation God applied to him than Satan’s is proved from its being applied to him, a cavil of this nature is easily refuted. For Christ is called God without any addition; indeed, he is called God blessed for ever (Romans 9:5). He is said to be that God who was in the beginning, before the creation of the world (John 1:1–3).

The devil, on the other hand, is called the god of this world in no other way than as Baal is called the god of those who worship him, or as the dog is called the god of Egypt. The Manicheans, as I have said, in order to maintain their delusion, have recourse to other declarations of Scripture, as well as this one, but there is no difficulty in refuting those also.

They contend not so much respecting the term, as respecting the power. Since the power of blinding is ascribed to Satan, and dominion over unbelievers, they conclude from this that he is, from his own resources, the author of all evil, so as not to be subject to God’s control—as if Scripture did not in various instances declare that devils, no less than the angels of heaven, are servants of God, each of them in his own manner.

For, as the latter dispense to us God’s benefits for our salvation, so the former execute his wrath. Hence good angels are called powers and principalities (Ephesians 3:10), but it is simply because they exercise the power given them by God. For the same reason Satan is the prince of this world, not as if he conferred dominion upon himself, or obtained it by his own right, or, ultimately, exercised it at his own pleasure.

On the contrary, he has only so much as the Lord allows him. Hence Scripture does not merely make mention of the good spirit of God and good angels, but it also speaks of evil spirits of God. An evil spirit from God came upon Saul (1 Samuel 16:14). Again, Scripture mentions chastisements by means of evil angels (Psalms 78:49).

With respect to the passage before us, the blinding is a work common to God and to Satan, for it is in many instances ascribed to God; but the power is not alike, nor is the manner the same. I will not speak at present about the manner. Scripture, however, teaches that Satan blinds men, not merely with God’s permission, but even by his command, so that Satan may execute his vengeance. Thus Ahab was deceived by Satan (1 Kings 22:21), but could Satan have done this of himself? By no means; for having offered to God his services for inflicting injury, he was sent to be a lying spirit in the mouth of all his prophets (1 Kings 22:22).

Furthermore, the reason God is said to blind men is that after having deprived us of the right exercise of the understanding and the light of his Spirit, he delivers us over to the devil, to be hurried forward by him to a reprobate mind (Romans 1:28), gives him the power of deception, and by this means inflicts just vengeance upon us by the minister of his wrath. Paul’s meaning, therefore, is that all who do not acknowledge his doctrine to be the sure truth of God are possessed by the devil. For it is more severe to call them slaves of the devil than to ascribe their blindness to the judgment of God. However, as Paul had shortly before adjudged such persons to destruction (2 Corinthians 4:3), he now adds that they perish for no other reason than that they have drawn down ruin upon themselves as the effect of their own unbelief.

Lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ should shine upon them. This serves to confirm what he had said—that if anyone rejected his gospel, it was his own blindness that prevented him from receiving it. “For nothing,” he says, “appears in it but Christ, and that not obscurely, but so as to shine forth clearly.” He adds that Christ is the image of God, by which he intimates that they were utterly devoid of the knowledge of God, in accordance with that statement: He that knoweth not me knoweth not my Father (John 14:7).

This then is the reason why he pronounced so severe a sentence upon those who had doubts about his Apostleship—because they did not behold Christ, who might there be distinctly beheld. It is doubtful whether he employed the expression the gospel of the glory of Christ, as meaning the glorious gospel, agreeably to the Hebrew idiom, or whether he means by it the gospel in which Christ’s glory shone forth. The second of these meanings I rather prefer, as having in it more completeness.

When, however, Christ is called the image of the invisible God, this is not meant merely of his essence, as being the “co-essential of the Father,” as they say, but rather has a reference to us, because he represents the Father to us. The Father himself is represented as invisible, because he is in himself not apprehended by the human understanding. He exhibits himself, however, to us by his Son, and makes himself in a manner visible. I state this because the ancients, having been greatly incensed against the Arians, insisted more than was fitting on this point—how the Son is inwardly the image of the Father by a secret unity of essence—while they passed over what is mainly for edification: in what respects he is the image of God to us when he manifests to us what had otherwise been hidden in him. Hence the term image has a reference to us, as we will see again shortly. The epithet invisible, though omitted in some Greek manuscripts, I have preferred to retain, as it is not superfluous.

For we preach not ourselves. Some consider this an instance of Zeugma, explained in this manner: We do not preach ourselves as lords, but God’s only Son, whom the Father has set over all things, as the one Lord. I do not, indeed, find fault with that interpretation. However, the expression is more emphatic (εμφατικωτερα) and has a more extensive meaning when it is said that one preaches himself. I am more inclined to retain this latter interpretation, especially as it is almost unanimously approved.

For there are other ways in which people preach themselves besides arrogating dominion to themselves. For example, when they aim at show rather than edification, when they desire distinction in any way, or when, furthermore, they make gain from the gospel. Ambition, therefore, avarice, and similar vices in a minister taint the purity of his doctrine, so that Christ does not have the exclusive distinction in it. Hence, anyone who would preach Christ alone must necessarily forget himself.

And ourselves your servants. Lest anyone should mutter the objection, “But meanwhile you say many things about yourself,” he answers that he desires nothing further than to be their servant. “Whatever I declare about myself (so loftily and boastfully, in your opinion) has this object in view—that I may in Christ serve you advantageously.” It follows that the Corinthians are excessively proud and ungrateful if they reject this condition. Furthermore, it follows that they had previously been of a corrupt judgment, since they had not perceived his holy affection.

Here, however, all pastors of the Church are admonished about their state and condition. For by whatever title of honor they may be distinguished, they are nothing more than the servants of believers; and unquestionably, they cannot serve Christ without serving His Church at the same time. This is, it is true, an honorable servitude and superior to any principality, but it is still a servitude, so that Christ alone may be elevated to distinction—not encumbered by the shadow of a single rival. Hence, it is the part of a good pastor not merely to keep aloof from all desire of domineering, but to regard it as the highest height of honor to which he aspires—that he may serve the people of God.

It is the duty of the people, on the other hand, to esteem the servants of Christ first of all on the ground of the dignity of their Master, and then further on account of the dignity and excellence of their office, so that they may not despise those whom the Lord has placed in so illustrious a station.