The Unseen Is More Certain Than the Seen

For the things that are seen are temporary, but the things that are not seen are eternal (2 Corinthians 4:18). What he means is this: affliction benefits us most of all even here, making our soul wiser and more philosophical, and after this it also procures for us countless good things in the age to come—not merely counterbalancing our labors, but far greater than our wrestling matches, both in quantity and in quality. Paul makes both of these points clear, I say, and he compares the surpassing greatness of the dangers and the prizes, setting the eternal against the momentary, the weight against the light, the glory against the affliction. For affliction, he says, is temporary and light, but the relief—or rather he did not say relief, but glory, which is far greater than relief—is eternal and perpetual and great. By weight here he does not mean what is burdensome and heavy to carry, but what is costly and honored, according to the custom of most people, who are accustomed to call very valuable things very weighty. So when he says weight of glory, he means greatness of glory. Do not think only of this, he says—that you are scourged and driven about—but also of the crowns and the rewards, because those are far greater and more splendid than the present things, and they have no end and no limit. But these things, he says, are in trial, while those are in hopes; and these are visible, while those do not appear but are suspended and in mid-air. Yet even if they are unseen, they are more visible than the things that are seen. What do I mean, more visible? You can see those things more than these. For these things pass away, but those remain. That is why he added: While we look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen; for the things that are seen are temporary, but the things that are not seen are eternal (2 Corinthians 4:18). But if you say, How will I be able to see the unseen things and not see the present things? I will try to lead you into this faith from the affairs of daily life. For no one would readily lay hold of even the perishable affairs of this world without first seeing the unseen things before the visible ones. What I mean is this: the merchant endures many storms and risings of waves and shipwrecks and countless difficulties, and he also enjoys wealth after the storms, disposing of his cargo and carrying on much business. But the storms come first, and the cargo comes later; and the seas and the waves are visible when he leaves the harbor, but the trade is not visible, for it is still in hopes. Yet unless he first looks to that unseen thing which is not present and not in his hands but in hopes, he would not lay hold of these present and visible things. So also the farmer yokes oxen, drags the plow, cuts a deep furrow, casts in seed, spends all that he has, and endures frost and ice and rains and many other hardships; and after this labor he expects to see the fields thick with grain and the threshing floor filled. Do you see how here too the labor comes first, and after it the reward—and the reward is unseen, while the labor is clear and visible; and the one is in hopes, while the other is in his hands? Yet unless he first looks to that reward which is unseen and invisible and not visible to the eyes of the body, he will not only not yoke oxen or drag the plow or cast in seed, but he will never even stir from his house to go to this work.