For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison. (2 Corinthians 4:17)
One of the greatest stories of perseverance through pain occurred at the 1964 U.S. Open at Congressional Country Club.
Ken Venturi had been a “rising star,” but by 1964, injuries had nearly ended his career. Then, he found himself in contention for the U.S. Open.
The final two rounds were played on Saturday—thirty-six holes in one day. Even worse, suffocating heat engulfed the field.
Venturi became severely dehydrated and disoriented. A doctor warned him about the danger of continuing. Yet, after thirty-six holes in debilitating heat, Venturi walked off the final green as the U.S. Open champion.
The hope of what lies ahead changes our perspective and our ability to endure what we are experiencing in the present.
Paul writes, “For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Corinthians 4:17).
“Light momentary affliction?” Paul had been cruelly beaten, unjustly imprisoned, and persecuted. How could he call it “light”?
Paul understood his suffering by comparing it with what awaited him. On the one hand, he calls his present suffering light. On the other hand, he calls God’s promise a weight of glory. His suffering was “momentary,” but the glory awaiting him was “eternal.”
Paul was not minimizing suffering. Though despair lurked in the shadows, he buoyed his soul by seeing his eternal future.
Imagine placing one hundred pounds on one side of a scale and ten thousand pounds on the other. The one hundred pounds is significant, but it is put into perspective by comparison.
The reality of Paul’s eternal future anchored his mind and heart in the present. The pain was awful. Yet, the promised weight of glory gave him perspective and, with it, perseverance.
This comparison matters when we wrestle with the question: If God is good, why this evil?
Thoughtful theological and philosophical answers exist and are worthy of exploration. But when suffering personally enters our lives, philosophical answers can take us only so far. After all, we are more than “brains on a stick.”
A friend of mine understands this from personal experience. He and his wife buried two precious daughters. He would never tell you, “Your loss isn’t that bad.” With tears in his eyes, he would say, “The loss is unimaginably terrible. But it is not final.”
He reminds us that at the center of Christianity, Jesus suffered and died. But Jesus was also raised to life, pioneering the way for believers to follow.
With Paul, “We do not focus on the things that are seen but on the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are temporary, but the things that are unseen are eternal” (2 Corinthians 4:18).
Cancer. A failed marriage. A body that doesn’t work. A business partner who betrayed you. A crisis you did not choose. Those things are real. Christianity never asks us to pretend they aren’t. But Jesus promises they are not final.
Ken Venturi kept walking because somewhere ahead was the possibility of becoming a U.S. Open champion.
Like all analogies, this golf analogy breaks down. Venturi endured because he hoped he might win. Christians persevere through pain because Christ has already won.
At the cross, He bore our sin. In the resurrection, He defeated death. And for everyone who trusts in Him, an eternal weight of glory awaits.
When life becomes unbearably difficult, Christianity doesn’t offer platitudes like, “Hang in there.” Scripture says, “Look ahead!” The suffering is real, but it is momentary. The glory is unseen, but it is eternal.
Our suffering is called light not because it is painless, but because the glory awaiting us weighs infinitely and incalculably more.
Prayer: Jesus, please send your Holy Spirit to comfort and strengthen all the men and women in our Links Fellowships from coast to coast. Anchor our hearts in the certainty of your victory and the eternal glory.