The “new creation” or bust

The “new creation” or bust

This article is part of a commentary series through the Book of Galatians. This article covers Galatians 6:11-18. You can find the rest of the series (so far) here: Galatians 3:1-6, and Galatians 3:7-14, and Galatians 3:15-22, and Galatians 3:23 – 4:7, and Galatians 4:12-20, and Galatians 4:21 – 5:12, Galatians 5:13-26, and Galatians 6:1-10.

Paul now presses a few reminders and offers his assessment of the Judaizer’s motives. This is really a postscript; a closing line or two summing up the matter and issuing a broadside or two against his opponents. What’s quite clear is Paul’s genuine worry about the Christians in Galatia. The situation is so dire—believing in a false version of the “gospel”—that Paul is compelled to once more speak very plainly to press home his remarks.

See what large letters I use as I write to you with my own hand!

Galatians 6:11

Paul often uses a secretary to transcribe his letters (cf. Rom 16:22). But here, at the end of this unpleasant but necessary communique, Paul takes the pen from his secretary’s hand and writes the last bit himself. The Christians in Galatia who handled the letter would immediately see the different handwriting and hopefully be touched by the gesture.[1] In a letter with contains so many stern rebukes, a loving and personal touch like this is a nice gesture.

Paul reveals that this isn’t an honest dispute between two parties who have a theological disagreement.

Those who want to impress people by means of the flesh are trying to compel you to be circumcised. The only reason they do this is to avoid being persecuted for the cross of Christ.

Galatians 6:12

The Judaizers are pushing for “converts” in order to avoid persecution. Paul says this is the “only” reason they’re doing what they’re doing.[2] We don’t know the precise situation. Many believe the Judaizers fear persecution from the larger Jewish community—and that may well be the issue.[3] Another possibility is that they fear local Roman authorities who may have little patience for what they perceive to be an exclusivist cult.[4] Here is a sketch of the situation to help us figure out the battlespace.[5]

First, the Roman Empire was a syncretistic society.

All sorts of religions flourished and were tolerated to some degree. All that was asked in return by Jesus’ day was a sort of mega-pluralism—a respect and homage to the cult of the emperor.

Second, the Jews were generally not loved but tolerated. Yes, they had their invisible God who couldn’t be represented by images or idols, and they had a fanaticism about their God being the “only one.” Yes, it was weird and exclusivist. But, for all that, Jews were a known quantity. They were understood, acknowledged, and tolerated within limits. They’d carved out a precarious place for themselves in the Roman world.[6]

Third, the Christians were a different story.

At first, the Romans saw them as a Jewish cult and so “the Way” initially had some measure of quasi-legitimacy. But the movement was rapidly being recognized as a “new thing.” This “new thing” got no love from the Roman authorities, who didn’t know or understand what it was about. A new, exclusivist cult that pronounced that this man Jesus was the true king? A martyr whose death was stirring unrest in various places throughout the Mediterranean basin? This was trouble.

It makes sense that anxious Jews who were attracted to Christianity might seek shelter from potential Roman persecution by hiding under a Jewish umbrella—hence the very Jewish flavor of their “gospel.” However, as Jewish unrest grew in Judea from the mid-50s AD onward culminating in the revolt of 66-70, the wisdom of aligning oneself with that party would be increasingly open to question.

On the other hand, fourthly, the Christian movement was also the target of repeated Israelite attacks, most infamously at the very hands of the apostle Paul!

The apostle’s later persecution by and incessant trouble with outraged Jews throughout the Mediterranean proves the depth of hostility that Christianity provoked in their community. This reaction operated on two levels. On the one hand were the theological conservatives, characterized by the Pharisee party among the Sanhedrin, who believed Christianity was leading good Jews into apostasy. Christians were therefore dangerous and subversive heretics who must be stopped—now. On the other hand, we have the more populist reactions from officials and laypeople in the provincial synagogues—the people from whom Paul encountered such opposition during his missionary travels.

Either way, the Jews saw “the Way” as a heretical cult and Judaism had a long tradition of bringing a sledgehammer to a fistfight when stirred to action and fueled by religious fervor. Phineas was celebrated for killing an Israelite as the blackguard cavorted with a Moabite prostitute (Num 25:1-13). Centuries later, Mattathias struck down a fellow Israelite who offered pagan sacrifice in obedience to the Seleucid king, thereby sparking the Maccabean Rebellion (1 Macc 2:15f).

Ironically, Paul himself was later this same group’s arch-foe. Paul spoke movingly about the persecutions he suffered (Gal 5:11), and the Book of Acts is all the testimony one needs to see that his main foe were the pious Jews who thought they were doing the Lord’s work by taking Paul off the board. To quote Joseph Stalin, “Death solves all problems. No man, no problem!” (cf. Jn 11:49-50). Indeed, it was enraged Jews whose hysterical reaction at seeing their nemesis in the flesh resulted in Paul’s arrest (Acts 21:27f). They then engineered more than one hare-brained plot to kill him while he remained in Roman custody—a conspiracy involving no less than certain key members of the Sanhedrin and perhaps 40 fanatics who pledged to not eat or drink until Paul was slain (Acts 23:12-15; 25:1-3).

Fifth, in between Paul and full-blown Judaism were the Jewish-flavored Christians, represented by the hardliners in the Jerusalem congregation who were always suspicious of Paul (Acts 23:17-24) and very uneasy with Peter’s forays into Gentile evangelism (Acts 11:1-18).

It was this party that pressured Peter, whom they always considered “their man,” to stop fraternizing with Gentiles (Gal 2:11f). It was these same people that sent emissaries out to Antioch to pressure the new believers there to add “obedience to Moses’ law” as a condition of salvation (Acts 15:1-4). It was the Jerusalem community which had earlier sent Barnabas to Antioch after hearing word that a large group of Gentiles had converted and joined the church there (Acts 11:22). Barnabas was likely on orders to “scout out” the situation, not because the Jerusalem leaders were overjoyed about new converts, but because these new believers were Gentiles.

The Book of Acts depicts James as trying to desperately hold the Gentile and Jewish constituencies together in the Jerusalem congregation; even securing a concession from Paul to placate the hardliners in their midst (Acts 21:22-24). Much earlier, this same congregation struggled with hostility among both the Jewish hardline and the more “worldly” widows among them (Acts 6:1). Not unlike the way regional prejudices colored the practical outworking of the Gospel in the Jim Crow south, these Jewish Christians were officially “fine” but functionally very uneasy with full Gentile participation in the Jesus community. It is people from this group who are the Judaizers stirring up trouble among the Galatian congregations.

So, sixthly, the Christians found themselves in a difficult spot by the mid-50s AD.

Despised by the Jews as an apostate cult on the one hand, whilst on the other they were scrutinized with increasingly furrowed brows by local Roman authorities of varying competence and quality. Pilate himself was a mid-level civil servant of modest abilities whose weakness was obvious to the wily Annas and his son-in-law, Caiaphas.

The question now is—what do these Judaizers fear the most? Do they fear persecution from provincial Roman authorities, or from increasingly fundamentalist Jewish (non-Christian) hardliners? On balance, the evidence favors the second option. The gossip is that Paul (and, by extension, his converts) lead Jews away from the Torah and convince them to forsake Jewish customs (Acts 21:21). This is kinda true, though not for the reasons they think. But nuance has never been sexy. In every age, those who shout the loudest have a remarkable ability to carry a larger, more passive bloc along with them. This is why a few partisans could whip a crowd into a frenzy when they spotted Paul in the temple courtyard (Acts 21:27-28).

And so the more Jewish-oriented Christians who “were not bold enough to defy the prejudices of their unconverted fellow-countrymen”[7] sought cover from the Jewish hardliners.

The rival mission considered Paul’s activity as a threat to the larger group (the Jewish people), which had to be preserved. These teachers were also acutely aware that apostates could be persecuted by the zealous (as Paul himself had done prior to his conversion; Gal 1:13-14, 23). It would have been in everyone’s best interests, they would have thought, to make it clear to both non-Christian and Christian Jews that the Jesus movement was in no way a movement that promoted apostasy.

By reinforcing Jewish (Christian) adherence to the Torah, and all the more by bringing Gentiles to the light of the law, the rival teachers could save themselves, the church in Judea, and the churches in the Diaspora where Jewish communities were strong, from the intramural persecution that perceived apostasy could invite.[8]

If you’re a Jewish person who is attracted to Christianity (for whatever reason), what is one way to (a) escape the wrath of the Jewish fundamentalist hardliners who have hounded Paul from one end of the eastern Mediterranean to the other, and (b) still retain Jesus-ish teachings? One possibility is to combine Judaism with Jesus. First, you emphasize the fraudulent heritage of works righteousness to which the true Old Covenant religion had degenerated—the rally-cry[9] of Acts 15:1; “Unless you are circumcised, according to the custom taught by Moses, you cannot be saved!” This is the tradition which Paul earlier labeled “a different gospel” (Gal 1:6). Second, you just add “Jesus as Messiah” into the mix. Be a good Jew … and believe Jesus is the Messiah, then keep doing both.

This is a desperate tertium quid—a “third thing” that will likely please nobody. But, by hiding under the Old Covenant cloak, these Judaizers hope to “avoid being persecuted for the cross of Christ,” (Gal 6:12). They fear the stigma of identifying themselves with Jesus, His message, and all this implies.[10] This means “the cross of Christ” has some hold on them, which suggests (a) they either are professing Christians already, or (b) they’re intrigued enough by the Christian story to be tagged as being Christians—which is essentially the same thing in the eyes of suspicious Jewish communities at home and abroad. Either way, the Jewish emphasis of their teaching—the entire point at issue in Paul’s letter—is to some extent a front.

Perhaps some would think it presumptuous of Paul to say this—has he become a mind reader? How does he know what their motives really are? But, the fact is that Paul is the most experienced missionary in the Christian community. He has experience. He knows the ground. He knows the players. He knows the motives. He speaks with the sure confidence of a man who knows his job very, very well. It’s the same kind of experience that enables a professional in any field to hear the bare facts of a situation and then pronounce an opinion that seems clairvoyant and telepathic—especially when it’s proven right.

“How did you know that!” we ask. Experience, that’s how.

Not even those who are circumcised keep the law, yet they want you to be circumcised that they may boast about your circumcision in the flesh.

Galatians 6:13

Nobody can keep the law—not even the Judaizers. Yet, they want people to buy in on a system that had twisted the Old Covenant into a relationship with God based on good works. And why? So they could use them as cover for being “Jewish,” to escape the taint of being Christian. What a ridiculous situation! They claim the cross of Christ, yet spend all their time denigrating it—boasting about their convert’s circumcision—in order to escape suspicion by the local authorities![11] With “believers” like that, who needs enemies?

May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.

Galatians 6:14

Paul has a different focus. The world is dead to him. Babylon is dead to him. The harlot atop the beast, with all her charms and wiles and beauty, is dead to him (Rev 17). The world has been crucified to him. Of course, no mortal human is totally dead to the world, and Paul has told us about his own struggles to stay faithful to Jesus (Rom 7:7f). But, we get the idea. Paul has made the decision to follow Jesus and boast in “the cross,” to not knuckle under and look for some cover to shield himself from the Roman authorities. He crossed that bridge a long time ago and then burnt it behind him.[12]

The cross is the means or instrument which has brought about this new reality.[13] Paul is very fond of metaphysical language to describe spiritual realities (see Rom 6). In an unseen but extraordinarily real way, Christ’s death on a cross, His burial, and His resurrection have significance far beyond their physical implications for His own body. When we pledge allegiance to Jesus, we somehow participate, are amalgamated into, are united with Him and His death, burial, and resurrection—and nothing is ever the same.

Jesus is crucified → Our “old person” is crucified

Jesus dies → Our “old person” dies

Jesus is buried and gone → Our “old person” is buried and gone

Jesus raises from the dead to new life → We’re “born again” and have spiritual life

This isn’t typology—it’s real. This is why the cross is literally the instrument which crucifies Paul to the world, that makes it dead and gone to him. But this “crucifixion” goes both ways—it makes the world dead to him, and him dead to the world. The bridge has been taken out. There is no path back for either party—for Paul or the world. Neither can return. The die has been cast. Quite literally, Paul says, “we’re both dead to each other.”

A great sea change has happened, triggered by a divine encounter with Christ by way of the Holy Spirit. Reality has changed, life has changed—his mind and heart has changed. This is why Paul can never do what his opponents do—to boast in so-called “converts” as a cover to escape persecution. He can only boast in the cross of Christ because it’s what changed everything. For the Christian, it’s not simply an event we look back on with a sweet smile. It’s the engine which triggered an entirely new reality—the true and real reality.

Because of Jesus and the new and better relationship that comes along with the new and better covenant, Paul can sum up the whole matter with this:

Neither circumcision nor uncircumcision means anything; what counts is the new creation.

Galatians 6:15

This is the grand summary of the whole issue in this letter.[14] Are you a Christian? Have you had an encounter with Jesus via the Holy Spirit? Has the Lord opened your heart to understand the things of God? Has the Spirit lifted aside that Satanic veil so the Gospel can shine in (2 Cor 4:3f)? Have you been born again? Do you have spiritual life? These questions are all getting at the same idea—have you been made new in relationship with Jesus Christ?

… if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God!

2 Corinthians 5:17-20

In Christ, we’re changed. Reconciliation triggers moral and spiritual renovation in our hearts and minds. The “ministry of reconciliation” of which Paul speaks is the good news that triggers this divine renovation. This is the Christian community’s mission, its ethos, its telos. We’re ambassadors who represent the new Jerusalem in kingdom outposts scattered hither and yon across rural and urban Babylon. We show and tell about Jesus so people would choose to be reconciled to God.

Against that mission, what exactly is circumcision? It’s nothing. The Judaizers want external rites to be the main thing, but they are not—it’s the new creation which is the first principle. “Political laws, human traditions, church ceremonies, and even the law of Moses are without Christ; therefore, they do not bring us righteousness before God. We may use them as things both good and necessary, in their place and time; but if we talk of the matter of justification, they do not help but harm very much.”[15]

The new creation is the issue, and it’s the only issue that matters. Circumcision, uncircumcision—it doesn’t matter. Legalists always focus on these things because it’s what they think God wants. They think relationship with God is about “doing the right things” (orthopraxy), and so they think it’s really important to identify the right things so we can all do them. Paul says no—all that’s pointless. It’s downstream of the first principle, which is “are you a new creation in relationship with Jesus?”  

Who are the people who follow this rule? Who are the folks who really get that this “new creation” business is the hinge upon which everything turns?

Peace and mercy to all who follow this rule—to the Israel of God.

Galatians 6:16

True believers are the ones who understand all this—ones who aren’t defined by outmoded covenant markers, but by the inward love that comes from being a new creation in union with Christ. The “true” Israelites are the ones whose hearts are marked with God’s covenant sign (Rom 2:28-29)—who’ve been “branded” (as it were) by the Holy Spirit. The true child of Abraham is person (whether she be Jewish or whatever) who has the same faith and trust in God that Abraham displayed (Rom 4:16; cp. Gal 3:7). In union with Jesus Christ, we are all children of God through faith (Gal 3:26). Paul explained earlier that, “If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise,” (Gal 3:29).

And by ‘the Israel of God’ he means without doubt the true Israel, those who are sons of God through faith in his Son, whether of Jewish or Gentile descent after the flesh.[16]

Some Christians believe Paul refers to two group; (a) Gentiles who follow the rule of “new creation or bust,” and (b) the Jewish folks who do likewise. This is grammatically possible, but contextually unlikely.[17] In this letter Paul simply isn’t concerned about a future for Israel—turn to Romans 9-11 if you want to see that discussion. In a context in which he’s combatting legalist Judaizer posers, the very last thing the apostle would do would be to toss out onto the table a reference to ethnic Israel as a bloc.[18] No—his focus here is on real believers, no matter who they are.   

The “true circumcision,” Paul declared elsewhere, are “we who serve God by his Spirit, who boast in Christ Jesus, and who put no confidence in the flesh,” (Phil 3:3). When Jesus rescues us, He marks us with an invisible “circumcision” (so to speak) on our heart that declares us to be His (Col 2:11). This marker is a beacon saying that we’re now alive with Christ.

So, in that vein, the “true Israel” are those people (Jewish, Canadian, Azeri, Chilean, or whatever) who understand that the new creation is the only thing that matters for relationship with God, because it’s the only thing that establishes this relationship! [19]

From now on, let no one cause me trouble, for I bear on my body the marks of Jesus. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit, brothers and sisters. Amen.

Galatians 6:17-28

Paul concludes with what one commentator called an “impatient grumpiness,”[20] but this seems a bit unfair. It more about exasperation, a dusting off the hands with an “I’m done with this!” sort of attitude. It’s not directed at the Judaizers, but at the Galatians believers.[21] “Forget those people,” he says. “Don’t cause me anymore trouble by letting them confuse you about the Gospel again. I’m done with them, and you should be, too!” Paul has suffered for Christ—literally suffered. He’s been beaten, left for dead, imprisoned, and bears real scars and real marks on his body that testify to his dedication for Christ.

Again, he asks, “what is ‘circumcision v. uncircumcision’ when compared to the love, forgiveness, and reconciliation that God offers through His dear Son?” In a 2023 American context, we might ask, “what is ‘Republican v. Democrat’ when compared to Christ?” If a local church puts any external rite, habit, tradition, or so-called “essential” in front of the Gospel, as a prerequisite, then run away. Fast.

The late pastor John Stott wrote this about the scandal of the cross of Christ:

Every time we look at the cross Christ seems to say to us, ‘I am here because of you. It is your sin I am bearing, your curse I am suffering, your debt I am paying, your death I am dying.’ Nothing in history or in the universe cuts us down to size like the cross. All of us have inflated views of ourselves, especially in self-righteousness, until we have visited a place called Calvary. It is there, at the foot of the cross, that we shrink to our true size.[22]

This is what Paul wanted the Galatians to see. It’s what he wants us all to see. I hope we do.


[1] For a representative analysis along this line which doesn’t attribute Paul’s “large letters” to poor eyesight, see Longenecker, Galatians, pp. 289-290. The old Scofield Reference Bible is representative of the tradition that sees great significance in Paul’s handwriting here: “But now, having no amanuensis at hand, but urged by the spiritual danger of his dear Galatians, he writes, we cannot know with what pain and difficulty, with his own hand, in the ‘large letters’ his darkened vision compelled him to use,” (Scofield Reference Bible (New York; London; Toronto; Melbourne; Bombay: Oxford University Press, 1917), Gal 6:11, p. 1248).

[2] The Greek is clear: μόνον ἵνα τῷ σταυρῷ τοῦ Χριστοῦ μὴ διώκωνται. The ἵνα + subjunctive, combined with the negation, tells us they are doing this for the purpose of escaping persecution. Paul clarifies that their sole motive (μόνον) is this objective.

Dunn (and others) suggest Paul is exaggerating the “only” part for rhetorical effect (Galatians, p. 336), but I disagree. I don’t believe we must suppose that the Judaizers quite literally had no other motive, thought, or quest in mind but using them as a cloak for persecution. But, Paul surely states this was the most important, controlling, dominating motive.

[3] On the theory that the Judaizers don’t so much fear the Romans, but sanctions from their own Jewish communities, see (1) Hendriksen, Galatians, pp. 242-243; (2) Ridderbos, Galatians, pp. 242-244; and (3) Barnes, Notes on Galatians, pp. 397-398. This is only a representative sample—most commentators take this view.

[4] Bengel observes that either option is possible; persecution might come “from the Jews, or even from the Gentiles, who now bore more easily with the antiquity [antiquated usages] of the Jews, than with the supernatural novelty [new doctrine and rule] of the Christian faith,” (Gnomen, p. 4.57).

[5] For a reliable survey of this period, see esp. Grant, Jews in the Roman World, parts III and IV. See also F.F. Bruce, New Testament History (reprint; New York: Doubleday, 1980), ch(s). 21-22.   

[6] Michael Grant observed that it was “an emphatic principle of Roman rule that every community should, as far as possible, be allowed to maintain its national customs, including the worship of its own gods in its own way. Pagan cults, after all, tolerated one another; religious exclusiveness was regarded as weird. And so, paradoxically, the Roman authorities issued tolerant dispensations in favour of the intolerant Jewish God,” (Jews in the Roman World (London: Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 1973; Kindle ed.), p. 60). 

[7] Lightfoot, Galatians, p. 302.  

[8] David deSilva, An Introduction to the New Testament: Contexts, Methods and Ministry Formation, 2nd ed. (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2018), p. 436.

[9] Stott, Galatians, p. 176.

[10] Dunn, Galatians, in Black’s New Testament Commentary (London: Continuum, 1993), p. 336f.

[11] John Calvin remarks, “It is the usual practice of ambitious men meanly to fawn on those from whose favour they hope to derive advantage, and to insinuate themselves into their good graces, that, when better men have been displaced, they may enjoy the undivided power,” (Galatians and Ephesians, p. 182).

[12] “What Paul means is that every rationale for individual and corporate existence which is independent of God (as in Rom. 1:21–2), together with its system of beliefs and values and corresponding life-style, has been condemned and put to death so far as he is concerned; and that he himself has likewise been rendered inoperative so far as the attractions of such rationales, belief and value systems and life-styles are concerned,” (Dunn, Galatians, pp. 340-341).

[13] In the phrase διʼ οὗ ἐμοὶ κόσμος ἐσταύρωται κἀγὼ κόσμῳ, the preposition expresses means, and the relative pronoun refers back to the cross(τῷ σταυρῷ τοῦ κυρίου ἡμῶν Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ) and not to Jesus.The pronoun ἐμοὶ is a dative of reference, expressing that the world has been crucified in reference to him or so far as he is concerned. Not only that, but Paul adds that “I have been crucified with reference to the world” (κἀγὼ κόσμῳ).

[14] Longenecker, Galatians, p. 296. “… Paul uses it to climax all of his arguments and exhortations in 1:6 – 5:12 with respect to the Judaizing threat.”

[15] Luther, Galatians, p. 301. 

[16] Hovey, Galatians, in American Commentary, p. 78. Lightfoot observes, “It stands here not for the faithful converts from the circumcision alone, but for the spiritual Israel generally, the whole body of believers whether Jew or Gentile; and thus kai is epexegetic, i.e. it introduces the same thing under a new aspect …” (Galatians, p. 305).

[17] See esp. Hendriksen, Galatians, pp. 246-247.  

[18] Longenecker is especially on the mark here (Galatians, p. 298).  

[19] In the phrase καὶ ἐπὶ τὸν Ἰσραὴλ τοῦ θεοῦ, the conjunction is ascensive and hones in on the “them” and explains who they are. It’s essentially appositional. The genitive in Ἰσραὴλ τοῦ θεοῦ is subjective—God’s Israel, which basically means “God’s people.” This suggests it could be a possessive genitive, but that usage is generally for personal property, not people in a relationship. We have a translation conundrum here, because the true force of “Israel” in this context is to emphasize the “real believers.” A more colloquial rendering (and perhaps a more accurate one) would be something like “… peace and mercy to them—the true believers.”

On my interpretation of “Israel of God,” see (1) Alford, New Testament, p. 2.360; (2) DeSilva, Galatians: A Handbook on the Greek Text, p. 145, (3) Stott, Galatians, in BST, p. 180, (4) esp. Schreiner, Galatians, p. 381f, (5) Luther, Galatians, p. 303, and (6) the NLT, RSV, NIV, REB. For a contrary view which sees two groups (Gentiles + Jews), see Fung, Galatians, in NICNT, loc. 3730f.

[20] Dunn, Galatians, p. 346.

[21] See Fung, Galatians, loc. 3771.  

[22] Stott, Galatians, p. 179.

On freedom and Paul’s “third way”

On freedom and Paul’s “third way”

Freedom rings out again. It’s a big thing with Paul. The problem in the Old Covenant was externalism. After the return from exile, God’s people gradually overcorrected into legalism by the time of Jesus and the Apostles—an ossified, frigid works righteousness. This target is Paul’s rhetorical foe through the letter. Almost always, when Paul refers to slavery, the law, or freedom, he’s referring to the perverted form of “the faith” that had developed by his day—a system so crusted over with the barnacles of tradition that it wasn’t the Old Covenant religion anymore. “You have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to human traditions,” (Mk 7:8).

This article is part of a commentary series through the Book of Galatians. This article covers Galatians 5:13 – 26. You can find the rest of the series (so far) here: Galatians 3:1-6, and Galatians 3:7-14, and Galatians 3:15-22, and Galatians 3:23 – 4:7, and Galatians 4:12-20, and Galatians 4:21 – 5:12.

It’s this backdrop that helps us understand what the apostle says now:

You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love.

Galatians 5:13

So, when Paul reminds the Christians in Galatia that “you were called to be free,” he means something like “free from the legalism and false religion the Jewish establishment is peddling.” Not free from relationship with God. Not free from partaking in the faith that Abraham had—but free from the false system that had developed atop the Old Covenant and crusted over it. But, if they’re free from that—and from the Old Covenant framework entirely—then what was their matrix of authority? What was the new law? How did God regulate His people?

Christian have always struggled with how authority ought to work. Some say “the church” decides—this is the outsourcing option. Others say the bible alone is the answer—this is individualism and (if church history is any indication) a potential road to apostasy.[1] Others say we ought to primarily rely on the Holy Spirit—but this is the potential road to subjective mysticism. The true pattern of authority is the Holy Spirit speaking in and through the scriptures.[2] The scriptures are but one link in an integrated revelatory chain which goes like this:

Father and Son → Spirit → Scriptures → Christian community

There have always been some in the Christian community who abuse God’s love and grace. Perhaps they wouldn’t put it quite so crudely, but there it is nonetheless. It’s folks like this who may be creeping around the churches in Galatia, whispering that, because the Old Covenant is abolished, we’re now free to do whatever we want. “Not so!” Paul declares. Don’t use your freedom from legalism as an excuse, a pretext, as an absurd justification.[3] The NIrV renders this as, “don’t use your freedom as an excuse to live in sin,” and the NEB reads, “do not turn your freedom into licence for your lower nature.”

For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” If you bite and devour each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other.

Galatians 5:14-15

The key, Paul says, is to read and interpret the law through a prism of love—through relationship.[4] This isn’t a new thing—it was there in the Old Covenant all along—but it’s become a new thing in light of Jesus’ authoritative interpretation and application of that first covenant. After all, didn’t Leviticus (of all places!) say that we must love our neighbor (Lev 19:18)? Isn’t that what Jesus said was the sum of the Old Covenant law (Mk 12:28-34)? Isn’t that what even a scribe figured out from his own study of the Torah(Mk 12:32-34)? That’s why Paul said elsewhere that love was the fulfillment of the law (Rom 13:10).

So, what to do with this sudden freedom from crushing legalism, freedom from the weight of all the external expectations of “right behavior,” freedom from the cold scrutiny of religious leaders anxious to condemn you? The solution isn’t to run wild and party. It isn’t to rip up the Torah and burn it in celebration. It’s to retain the Torah (Paul and Jesus both quoted Leviticus, after all!), but interpret it the real way—through a paradigm of covenant love for God and for one another. Without love, all the New Covenant community will do is destroy itself with infighting and selfish dealing (cp. Micah 2:1-5; 3:1-8). Paul illustrates this with an analogy of animals biting and eating one another. Real Christianity expresses itself in loving service to each other (cp. Acts 2:42-47).

When Paul says “serve one another in love,” he means the manner, the way, the inner disposition which prompts the service.[5] We don’t need a book or a podcast to teach us how to love one another—all we need to do is ask ourselves how we would wish to be treated. Your own heart is your teacher![6] Emil Brunner wrote persuasively about how brotherly love is the necessary witness of the church’s life in union with Christ.

The Spirit who is active in the Ekklesia expresses Himself in active love of the brethren and in the creation of brotherhood, of true fellowship. Thus the Ekklesia has to bear a double witness to Christ, through the Word that tells of what He has bestowed upon it, and through the witness of its life, through its being, which points to Him as its vital source.[7]

But, how to “be free,” be holy, and yet still live without legalism? The answer is a conjunction of Word + Spirit. Remember, the same Apostle Paul elsewhere said that the scripture had two jobs; (1) to bring people to faith in Christ, and (2) to teach us how we ought to live as children of the King (2 Tim 3:14-17). This is the tail end of that organic “revelatory chain” we mentioned earlier. Jesus promised He would continue to make His Father known to Christians “in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them,” (Jn 17:26). This suggests an ever-present communication between Jesus and His people—but how? Through the Spirit (Jn 14:26-27; 16:12-15). How does the Spirit speak to us? Primarily through God’s message, His story recorded in scripture—it’s the Spirit’s sword, after all (Eph 6:17)!

So I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh.

Galatians 5:16

Paul says we must live a certain way—that’s what the “walk” metaphor means. How, then, shall we live? In union with the Holy Spirit, in relationship with Him.[8] Instead of incessant reference to laws and traditions (e.g. “can I do this on the Sabbath?”), a New Covenant believer lives in personal relationship with the Spirit of God. This is warmth, not frigid rules. Again—and this cannot be stressed enough—love for God was always the basis of a proper Old Covenant relationship (cp. Deut 10:12-22). But, after the return from exile a creeping legalism set in amongst the community that gradually ossified this love ethic into a works-righteousness that rescued nobody.

Now, in the New and better covenant, Jesus ups the ante (as it were) on love as the hinge for Christian life, doctrine, and practice—it’s love which fulfills the whole purpose of the Old Covenant law.[9] Jesus’ relentless focus on this love ethic is why the apostle John is so fixated on love (see 1 Jn 3). It’s also why Paul emphasizes freedom from a works-righteousness ethic in favor of a live lived in loving relationship with God via the Holy Spirit—remember that revelatory chain we mentioned earlier by which Jesus promised to never leave us alone (Jn 17:26; cf. Jn 14:26-27; 16:12-15)?

Father and Son → Spirit → Scriptures → Christian community

Live in union with the Spirit! This is a bit loose for people who prefer lists, categories, and a catalog of rules. But, if taken too far that’s the road to a new legalism, and they just broke free from all that. So, we keep the Torah but read it in dialogue with God’s message from the scriptures, by the power of the Spirit.

This isn’t a rote promise that “if you do this, you’ll never sin!” It’s a general truism, like many sayings in Proverbs. Paul is just saying that, to the extent you live in real union and relationship with the Spirit (in conjunction with the scriptures), then you will not be controlled by your own lusts. His wording in Greek is as emphatic as possible; it could be rendered something like “… you will never ever carry out the lusts of the flesh.”

For the flesh desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the flesh. They are in conflict with each other, so that you are not to do whatever you want. But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law.

Galatians 5:17-18

God is changing us from who we are into who He wants us to be. “And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory,” (2 Cor 3:18). This means there is an ongoing, internal struggle as this renovation happens. Our “old person” doesn’t want to fade to black, and our “new person” must struggle to assert itself in our hearts and minds (cp. Eph 4:22-24). We win this battle to the extent we’re led by the Spirit—and to that extent, we’re free from legalism, self-righteousness, and the crushing weight of meeting impossible standards. To the extent we allow the Holy Spirit to lead and energize us, we’re free from the “law” of works-righteousness.  

Basically, Paul’s audience is situated in a culture that presents two different authorities for the Christian life:

  1. The Judaizers are offering “Jesus + obey all the Mosaic Law.” This is externalism. It’s legalism. It’s a bad option.
  2. Other folks are offering a “do whatever you want” vibe.

Both these options are unacceptable, and so Paul offers a third way[10]—a life lived according to God’s will as expressed in the scriptures, interpreted through a prism of love for God and neighbor, by the power of the Spirit. To be led by the Spirit (Gal 5:18) is to be guided, to be led towards some goal[11]—to be shepherded. In the Christian faith, that goal is Christ-likeness—to be renovated from who you were and guided and led into the image of God’s dear Son (2 Cor 3:18).

So, we have a choice to make. Paul now compares the fruit of two paths—the flesh v. the Spirit. The “flesh” means our bodies, but more specifically our lusts, our sinful desires. It means the appetites and passions that characterize who we used to be (and partly still are),[12] rather than the “mind of Christ” which is the prototype and pattern for our moral renovation in process.

The acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery;  idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.

Galatians 5:19-21

These contrasting lists are rightly famous. They’re not exhaustive (Paul ends the list with “and the like”), but they’re representative enough to get the point across. A tree is known by its fruit (Lk 6:43-45). God’s people have His “seed” planted within them, and God’s seed always generates recognizable fruit (1 Jn 3:9). Perhaps a Christian’s fruit isn’t all it should be, but the point is that it’s recognizable. You might have a pitiful apple tree in your backyard, and even if it only produces a few sorry apples each year, you still recognize them as apples. So it is with Christians … and with those who serve a very different master. “This is how we know who the children of God are and who the children of the devil are: Anyone who does not do what is right is not God’s child, nor is anyone who does not love their brother and sister,” (1 Jn 3:10).

There are four general categories in this list. This doesn’t mean everything “bad” in this life should be situated in these categories; it’s just how this particular list shakes out:

  1. Sexual crimes. Sexual immorality, impurity, and debauchery.
  2. Spiritual adultery. Idolatry and witchcraft.
  3. Love of self. Hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy.
  4. Drunkenness. Drunkenness is just what it sounds like, and what the NIV translates as “orgies” means the general sort of “carrying on” that happens at alcohol-saturated parties.

Because this is rotten fruit, people who practice these things—whose lives show a pattern of rotten fruit—will not gain possession of the kingdom of God.[13] Their actions make it clear to which master they really belong. Because Paul says these rotten fruits “are obvious,” I’ll only remark on a few of them here:

  • Sexual immorality. As the incarnate Messiah (the divine person with a human nature), as a Jewish man whose mission involved perfectly obeying the Old Covenant law in our place, as our substitute (cf. 2 Cor 5:21), Jesus’ frame of reference to define sexual ethics was Leviticus 18. As the eternal Son within the one Being who is God, Jesus gave Leviticus to Moses.[14] This means the sexual boundaries depicted there are still in effect—all of them.
  • Impurity. This literally means “dirty.” It’s figurative here, meaning activity that morally pollutes you. How do we know what these activities are? Well, that’s why you have the scriptures! Again, Paul isn’t saying we burn the Old Covenant and start from scratch—he’s appealing to God’s moral laws as standards of behavior loving children should want to do. We love God because He first loved us (1 Jn 4:19), and this love produces fruit. The opposite of that is to live a polluted, morally filthy life.

The apostle now shares the other side of the coin—the fruit of a Spirit-referenced and led life:

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

Galatians 5:22-23

There are all virtues, or what some would call moral qualities.[15] They come from within. They aren’t measurable. They can’t be quantified or plotted on a chart. They’re inner character qualities which flow from a heart disposition. The word “fruit” can also be translated as crop or harvest. Paul’s talking about the product of your heart; the “crop” which the Gospel has yielded in your life.No believer’s life is perfect. But, would an impartial observer seethis fruit in your life—no matter how underdeveloped it might be? Do they flow from your heart, habits, and appetites?

Love. Jesus is the paradigm for love, which is unearned and undeserved (see Hosea 1-3). This means we love others especially if they don’t deserve it. This is hard to do, obviously, but it’s clear that a “get off my lawn!” vibe is not a fruit of the Spirit—but quite the opposite.

How many Christians are curmudgeons? Are bitter? How many of us sing “They’ll Know We Are Christians” and then leave the church building and ignore everything we just sang? How many of us do anything at all to make love the defining virtue of our lives? Take any steps to make that a reality? How many of us have prayed, “God, make me love you more, so I’ll love people more?” How many conservative Christians in America are more passionate about Donald Trump, who personifies corruption and debauchery, than about Jesus of Nazareth—who personifies love, kindness, and grace?   

In Christ there is no East or West, 
In Him no South or North, 
But one great Fellowship of Love 
Throughout the whole wide earth[16]

Would that our goal would be make this true in our hearts and lives!

Joy. This is a spirit of pure delight, or great pleasure and happiness.[17] It’s an inner glow that comes from experiencing the joy of union and relationship with the Father, through the Son, by the power of the Spirit. It’s what the angel Gabriel said Elizabeth would experience when she gave birth to their son John (Lk 1:14). It’s what the angels in heaven do when just one sinner repents (Lk 15:7). Jesus told the disciples that, when they saw Him alive after His impending death, “no one will take away your joy,” (Jn 16:22).

Are you a happy person? If you’re a Christian, and your outlook is more about misery and gloom than joy, then perhaps there’s a problem? Of course, life is difficult and we all go through seasons of drought. But, overall, do you have joy, happiness, and delight in your life because of your salvation? Pray for God to give you joy. Pray the Psalms. Ask God for a joyful disposition. Ask him to change your mindset—to see the world through new eyes. Ask Him to teach you to love life in the Spirit. Pray all that before you read the scriptures.

Oh the sheer joy of it! 
Living with Thee, 
God of the universe, 
Lord of a tree, 
Maker of mountains, 
Lover of me!

Oh the sheer joy of it!
Breathing thy air;
Morning is dawning,
Gone every care,
All the world’s singing,
“God’s everywhere.”[18]

Peace. This means an inner tranquility, a trouble-free spirit or conviction because “we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand,” (Rom 5:1-2). It speaks of security, of safety, of a certainty that all will be well, because you have “peace that transcends all understanding,” (Phil 4:7). Jesus is our peace (Eph 2:14). The Apostle Paul apparently didn’t write these virtues in any particular order, but if he had then “peace” would have gone before “joy,” because the first produces the second.

O what a happy soul am I! 
Although I cannot see, 
I am resolved that in this world 
Contended I will be;

How many blessings I enjoy
That other people don’t!
To weep and sigh because I’m blind,
I cannot, and I won’t.[19]

Forbearance. This means we put up with things—“love covers over all wrongs,” (Prov 10:12; cp. 1 Pet 4:8). The Pharisees didn’t like forbearance because their idea of relationship with God was an unwitting legalism—an adoption dependent on performance. When what we do is the basis of relationship, there is little tolerance for failure. Real grace isn’t that way at all. A honest thirst for personal holiness is a non-negotiable fruit of real faith (1 Pet 1:15-16), but that doesn’t create relationships. Grace does. Love does. Unearned mercy does.

That has implications for our relationships—we have patience. How willing are we to give in? To not insist on our own way? To listen to other voices? To be patient? To be understanding? Think of how much God has put up with from you—has He lost patience yet? It could also mean a kind of patience as the world falls apart around us, and in that sense it’s basically the same as peace. We’ll only want to cultivate forbearance in our lives if we truly appreciate God’s patience with us—seen most clearly in Christ’s voluntary death for us, in our place, as our substitute. The “Cross + Resurrection + Ascension” trilogy is the prism for seeing and living real life.

Whenever there is silence around me
By day or by night—
I am startled by a cry.
It came down from the cross—
The first time I heard it.
I went out and searched—
And I found a man in the throes of crucifixion
And I said, “I will take you down,”
And I tried to take the nails out of his feet.
But he said, “Let them be
For I cannot be taken down
Until every man, every woman, and every child
Come together to take me down.”
And I said, “But I cannot hear you cry.
What can I do?”
And he said, “Go about the world—
Tell everyone that you meet—
There is a man on the cross.”[20]

Kindness. The word sometimes means a kind of “moral uprightness” (cp. Rom 3:12), but it can also mean an interpersonal kind of goodness that’s almost a synonym for love.[21] It’s difficult to draw a hard line between these virtues, because they shade over into one another. The idea here seems to be a softness of heart, a kindness, a loving disposition towards other people. It’s this same “kindness” that describes Jesus’ mission to rescue us (Rom 2:4; Tit 3:4).

If we walk in union with the Spirit—in living relationship with Him—then kindness should always threaten to overflow from our hearts and into real life. Some of us have problems with kindness. I’m not talking about being an introvert or being shy, and perhaps being misinterpreted as unkind. I’m asking whether, if we could open your heart, “kindness” would be stamped inside. Do you have a desire to be kind, to be loving, to be tender-hearted? Or, are you a quarrelsome person? Do you only show kindness to select people?

God changes us to be more like Christ over the course of time. Is kindness gradually working its way into the overflow of your heart and mind? If we have God’s “seed” within us, then His fruit will come. Pray and ask God to give you kindness, as you ponder how kind Christ has been to you.

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

1 Corinthians 13:1-3

Goodness. The idea here is quite close to kindness, but perhaps shading more to sweetness and gentleness. It’s not exactly the moral uprightness of an external act (“he always does good!”), but more of an inward disposition, a virtue, a character that’s suffused with goodness, sweetness, tenderness.[22] St. Paul said he was convinced the Christians in Rome were “full of goodness,” (Rom 15:14). That didn’t mean they “always did good” (though perhaps they did), but it seems to indicate something like “you’re all good people—sweet and gentle people!” Paul prayed that God would grant to the Christians in Thessalonica their “every desire for goodness” (2 Thess 1:11), which again suggests an inward virtue rather than the moral quality of an outward action.

Pretend you’re at a funeral and someone says, “he was a good man!” What does that mean? It doesn’t mean so much that he did good things, but instead it refers to character. Not character in the sense of “his good outweighed the bad”—erase all imagery of doing things from your mind at this point. The focus is character, attitude, demeanor, disposition—you’re saying the guy was kind, sweet, gentle, nice, tender-hearted.  

We’re selfish people. We want to look out for ourselves. We weren’t made that way, but we’ve become that way because of the Fall (see Gen 3). Part of “being made in the image of God” is that we alone among God’s creatures have the capacity to know God, to receive and acknowledge His love, and to love Him back in return. There’s a “I-Thou” connection with God ready to be wired up—one that no cat or dog will ever have. God is relational. Father, Son, and Spirit are “one” in the sense that their mutual love is the reality that (as it were) binds them together into one society of persons, one constellation, one compound being. It’s the inward circularity of divine life that explains the mutual indwelling language that Jesus used (see Jn 14-16, passim).

When God restores this “image” through salvation, part of what that means is that He renovates our capacity for relationship as it was meant to be—on both the vertical (us to God) and horizontal (us to others) planes. We can now begin the work of patching up our relationships so they better reflect the nature of the triune God whose image we mirror. That means these virtues Paul keeps pressing—kindness, goodness, gentleness—are possible … if we have union with Christ.

Let me live in my house by the side of the road—
It’s here the race of men go by.
They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong
Wise, foolish—so am I; 
Then why should I sit in the scorner’s seat,
Or hurl the cynic’s ban?
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.[23]

Faithfulness. Paul means loyalty, trustworthiness, and reliability. To whom? To God, and to covenant brothers and sisters. It’s not just a “when I give my word, I mean it!” kind of vibe, but the more wholistic idea of “she’s such a loyal friend—I can always trust her!”

Faith is often a synonym for “trust,” and that’s what it means to “believe in Jesus”—it means to trust His representations about who He is and what He’s done for us. We trust God. We’re loyal. We’ve pledged allegiance to Him. We’re the same way towards our brothers and sisters in the believing community. These virtues interpenetrate one another, build upon each other. We’re loved by God, so we have peace, and so we have joy, and kindness, and goodness, and patience, and faithfulness to God and to one another. And, of course, we can be faithful like this because God has first been faithful to us in Jesus.

Thou hast given so much to me, 
Give one thing more—a grateful heart:
Not thankful when it pleaseth me,
As if thy blessings had spare days,
But such a heart whose Pulse may be
Thy praise.[24]

Gentleness. This is “a spirit of gentle friendliness.”[25] It’s a mild-mannered kind of disposition. The apostle isn’t declaring everyone must try to be Mr. Rogers, but he is saying that a “gentle friendliness” ought to characterize our interactions with others.  

Self-control. Paul means a mastery over one’s emotions and desires. We get better at this as the person we were gradually fades into the background to be replaced by the person we now are in union with Christ. The question to ask is, “am I getting better at suppressing the old me?” This isn’t a matter of sheer willpower, but a character renovation the Holy Spirit works from the inside out. Self-control is one of the virtues that the apostle Peter said “will make you useful and fruitful as you get to know our Lord Jesus Christ better,” (2 Pet 1:8, NIrV).

God changes us so we can honor Him with our life and work. Self-control is part of the harvest the Spirit reaps from within our hearts from that change. The question, of course, is whether we pray for change, for self-control, for greater holiness. Or, whether we remain on autopilot.

Thy way, not mine, O Lord,
However dark it be!
Lead me by thine own hand,
Choose out the path for me.

Smooth let it be or rough,
It will still be the best;
Winding or straight, it leads
Right onward to thy rest.

I dare not choose my lot;
I would not, if I might;
Choose thou for me, my God;
So I shall walk aright.[26]

This all seems like a tall order. What we must never forget is that Paul isn’t talking about a transaction, a “do this for God, and He’ll do this for you” arrangement. That would be legalism and works-righteousness. You must always read every single command from scripture in light of Christ and His Good News; as the fruit of trusting that message, owning it—as the natural harvest which comes from a personal encounter with Jesus of Nazareth, by the power of the Holy Spirit (2 Cor 4:3-6). These aren’t the fruit of hard work, but the fruit of the Spirit.

Paul continues:

Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other.

Galatians 5:24-26

Hopefully you haven’t literally crucified yourself! Paul is employing the same metaphors he uses in the letter to the church in Rome (“for we know that our old self was crucified with Him,” Rom 6:6, passim)—if you’re in union with Christ, then your old person is dead and gone. Your flesh and bones remain, but your spirit, your soul, your heart, your mind have changed. Spiritual birth has occurred, a God-seed has been planted, and things will never be the same again.

We can walk away. God has given us the power to walk away—to be led by the Spirit instead of our flesh. Instead of remaining unwitting slaves to our own lusts and ultimately to Satan, we’ve been set free. Jesus defeated Satan (Heb 2:14-15) and killed death itself for all who trust Him and His message (1 Cor 15:54-57). In return, He’s given the Holy Spirit to His brothers and sisters so He and the Father can teach us, communicate with us, mold us into the Son’s image. We must make a conscious, everyday choice to live with incessant reference to the Spirit.

Paul uses a military metaphor here which the NIV rightly keeps[27]—we must “keep in step” with the Spirit, “march in step” (NIrV) with Him. The Spirit “calls the cadence” in that we live in union—in relationship—with Him[28] (“we live by the Spirit”), and so we can and must choose to march in tune to His call. We can do that because we’re now free from both a false legalism and from Satan.

The danger is that it’s possible to fool ourselves; to become conceited and arrogant while maintaining an unwittingly fraudulent front of piety. We can do “good things” and even produce some fruit—tellingly, in this context the “fruit” will rarely be a virtue or a moral quality like those Paul listed. In short, we can become Pharisees. It’s to that danger that Paul now turns.


[1] Some Christians—especially those from the free church tradition—may be confused at this point. One key emphasis from the Protestant Reformation was suprema scriptura—that scripture was the supreme or highest channel of authority for Christian faith and life—not the only channel, but the final one. This is most often called sola scriptura, but supreme scriptura is a better term (see esp. James Leo Garrett Jr., Systematic Theology: Biblical, Historical, and Evangelical, 4th ed., vol. 1 (Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 2014), p. 206). This doesn’t mean “the bible alone,” but rather that the scriptures are the supreme channel; the yardstick by which everything must be measured.

[2] Bernard Ramm, The Pattern of Religious Authority (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1958), p. 28. 

[3] See LSJ, s.v. “ἀφορμή,” sense no. 2, p. 292.

[4] “In this entire summary, Paul’s purpose is both to let the law come into its own proper validity in the life of believers; and to graft its fulfillment upon a different principle from that of human self-vindication through works—namely, the salvation brought by Christ. For the love, in which the law has its fulfillment, is the fruit of faith (verse 6),” (Ridderbos, Galatians, in NICNT, p. 201).

[5] The preposition in ἀλλὰ διὰ τῆς ἀγάπης δουλεύετε ἀλλήλοις could refer to personal agency (“serve one another by love”) but this option is typically for active and personal agents, not attributes or virtues. It could be instrumental means (“serve one another by means of love” or “with love”). I believer manner is best—Paul is describing the way we ought to serve one another.  

[6] Martin Luther, Galatians, in Crossway Classic Commentaries, ed. Alister McGrath and J.I. Packer (Wheaton: Crossway, 1998), p. 265. 

[7] Emil Brunner, The Christian Doctrine of the Church, Faith, and the Consummation, trans. David Cairns and T.H.L. Parker (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1960), p. 134.

[8] I take the dative in πνεύματι περιπατεῖτε to be a dative of association. Most commentors opt for a dative of agency (“by the Sprit”), but in this circumstance the agent usually performs the action of the verb (in this case, the Holy Spirit, if the dative truly expresses agency), whereas in our text Paul is telling Christians to perform the action. Daniel Wallace dismisses dative of agency and suggests means (GGBB, pp. 165-166), but this is quite difficult to explain in exposition. Another option is manner, which answers the implicit “how” of the verb. But, on balance, I believe a dative of association is the best option. Regardless of the syntactical category one chooses, the root idea is that we cannot live without the influence, leading, and direction of the Spirit.     

[9] “So it is love—love that responds to Christ’s love and that expresses a new existence in Christ (cf. 2:20)—that motivates the ethical life of a Christian, with the results of that love ethic fulfilling the real purport of the Mosaic law,” (Longenecker, Galatians, p. 243).  

[10] Fung, Galatians, in NICNT, loc. 3057.

[11] LSJ s.v. “ἄγω,” sense no. II.2.

[12] “[T]he flesh, as the seat of the affections and lusts, fleshly nature …” (LSJ, s.v. “σάρξ,” no. II, p. 1585).

[13] The phrase is ἃ προλέγω ὑμῖν καθὼς προεῖπον ὅτι οἱ τὰ τοιαῦτα πράσσοντες βασιλείαν θεοῦ οὐ κληρονομήσουσιν. It can be rendered, “I am warning you beforehand, just as said previously, that the ones who are practicing such things will not gain God’s kingdom.” The key word is πράσσοντες, which in this context means “to practice,” (LSJ, s.v. “πράσσω,” no. IV, p. 1460).

[14] Leviticus 18 begins with “The LORD said to Moses …” (Lev 18:1). We know this is the triune God speaking, because the divine name of Yahweh is always signified by a capital “LORD” in our English bibles.

[15] Oxford English Dictionary, s.v. “virtue,” noun, sense I.1.a, July 2023. https://doi.org/10.1093/OED/2971758024.

[16] John Oxenham, “No East or West,” in The Treasury of Religious Verse, ed. Donald T. Kauffman (Westwood: Revell, 1962), p. 322.  

[17] See (1) LSJ, s.v. “χᾰρά,” p. 1976, and (2) Abbott-Smith, s.v., p. 479.

[18] Ralph Cushman, “Sheer Joy,” in Treasury of Religious Verse, p. 209. 

[19] Fanny Crosby (at age 8), “Blind But Happy,” in Treasury of Religious Verse, p. 211.  

[20] Elizabeth Cheney, “There is a Man on the Cross,” in Treasury of Religious Verse, p. 143.

[21] See (1) Ceslas Spicq and James D. Ernest, Theological Lexicon of the New Testament (Peabody: Hendrickson Publishers, 1994), s.v. “χρηστεύομαι, χρηστός, χρηστότης,” p. 511f, and (2) Abbott-Smith, Lexicon, s.v., p. 484.

[22]  Spicq, Lexicon, s.v. “ἀγαθοποιέω, ἀγαθωσύνη,” p. 1.

[23] Excerpt from Sam Walter Foss, “The House by the Side of the Road,” in Treasury of Religious Verse, p. 244.  

[24] George Herbert, “A Heart to Praise Thee,” in Treasury of Religious Verse, p. 256. 

[25] Friberg, s.v. “πραΰτης,” Analytical Lexicon, p. 326.

[26] Horatius Bonar, “Thy Way, Not Mine,” in Treasury of Religious Verse, p. 219.  

[27] See (1) LSJ, s.v. “στοιχέω,” p. 1647, (2) Abbott-Smith, s.v., p. 418.

[28] Once again, I believe this is a dative of association (contra. NIV and most EVV). The military metaphor further supports this usage over against agency or means. We are, as it were, marching in step with the Spirit which means we have to “stay with Him.”  

On Two Ladies and Their Two Jerusalems

On Two Ladies and Their Two Jerusalems

Henry Knox personifies the perennial American virtues of dependability and ingenuity.[1] He was George Washington’s chief artillery commander during much of the Revolutionary War. Knox was nobody’s version of a dashing soldier. A 1784 portrait shows a chubby, round-faced man with at least two chins. His shoulders slope downward as if he’s slouching for the portrait—one can just imagine the belly that must be there, despite being over six feet tall.

Knox had no formal military training. He was a bookseller who liked to read, and devoured tomes on military history and eventually artillery. Washington promoted him to the post over the head of an older, much more experienced professional soldier. He must have seen something in the guy.

One of Knox’s greatest feats was to seize 55 artillery pieces from captured Fort Ticonderoga, at the southern end of Lake Champlain, and transport them to Cambridge, MA to participate in the siege of Boston. This is a distance of approximately 220 miles on modern roads, and Knox’s achievement was “one of the most impressive examples of perseverance and ingenuity in the war.”[2]

Artillery pieces in that day were extraordinarily heavy—Knox’s 55 guns weighted over 60 tons. He and his team successfully hauled this captured artillery across waterways, over hills and down into valleys and lost not a one.

Knox later served in Washington’s first administration as Secretary of War. This is an extraordinary, self-made man—a guy who taught himself his own profession and helped win the Revolutionary War. He was a guy who “made it happen,” and his successful capture and transport of 60 tons of artillery pieces to the outskirts of Boston one cold winter is exhibit no. 1.

In that brief description, I took a historical figure and made him represent something bigger, something beyond himself. Does Henry Knox really embody dependability and ingenuity to the nth degree? Perhaps nobody really can, but that one incident surely illustrates the point.

This article is part of a commentary series through the Book of Galatians. This article covers Galatians 4:21 – 5:12. You can find the rest of the series here: Galatians 3:1-6, and Galatians 3:7-14, and Galatians 3:15-22, and Galatians 3:23 – 4:7, and Galatians 4:12-20, and Galatians 5:13 – 26.

Paul does something similar, in Galatians 4:21 – 5:12. He grabs a historical incident and says, “this is a great illustration for something deeper—something important.” He hopes this will make an impression on the Christians in Galatia, because it’s important they get this. He explains …

Tell me, you who want to be under the law, are you not aware of what the law says?

Galatians 4:21

Now, in a tone of exasperation—like that of a frustrated person to a particularly dense friend—Paul asks if they’re really aware of what it means to put oneself under a system of works righteousness. This echoes what he’s mentioned earlier, in Galatians 3:7-14. “You really want to go that way?” he asks. “I’m not sure you understand what you’re doing!”

Anytime you add something to Jesus’ “repent and believe” (Mk 1:15), you destroy the Gospel. False teachers are claiming the equation is “Jesus + obey the Mosaic law = salvation.” This is why some of these “foolish Galatians” (Gal 3:1) want to “be under the law.” They’ve been fooled to believe in that false equation.

“Do you not listen to the law?” Paul asks.[3] He explains what he means …

For it is written that Abraham had two sons, one by the slave woman and the other by the free woman. His son by the slave woman was born according to the flesh, but his son by the free woman was born as the result of a divine promise.

Galatians 4:22-23

“This is what I mean,” Paul says,[4] and then lays it out. He grabs an incident from the book of Genesis (ch. 16) to make his point. He uses allegory, which basically means one thing is really a symbol for some hidden other thing.[5] This means the point he’s about to make doesn’t come right from Genesis, but he uses the incident from Genesis 16 as an illustration for something else. It’s a capstone to the same long argument he’s been making since Galatians 3.

For as painting is an ornament to set forth and garnish an house already builded, so is an allegory the light of a matter which is already otherwise proved and confirmed.[6]

You’ll have to read Genesis 16 to understand what Paul’s about to say—why don’t you do it right now?

There are two children from Abraham: Ishmael and Isaac. One was born to a slave woman, Hagar—whose mistress was Abraham’s wife Sarah. The other was Sarah’s child, whom they named Isaac.

Ishmael was born because Abraham and Sarah tried to fix things their own way. God had promised them more offspring than could ever be counted—that Abraham would be the genesis of all God’s people. Well, the years passed, and no child came. We gotta do something, they figured. Gotta take matters into our own hands. So, Sarah declared, “The LORD has kept me from having children. Go, sleep with my slave; perhaps I can build a family through her,” (Gen 16:2). Abraham was only too happy to oblige and slept with Hagar. Thus Ishmael was conceived.

Isaac, on the other hand, was born according to God’s promise. Sarah conceived a child in her old age, and they had a new baby boy of their own.  

This contrast—going your own way vs. going God’s way—is what Paul highlights throughout the example. Hagar represents “going your own way,” when Abraham and Sarah decided to solve the problem “according to the flesh.” Sarah represents “going God’s way,” and so she is a “free woman.”

This “according to the flesh” (Ishmael) vs. “as a result of a divine promise” (Isaac) suggests two very different paths:[7]

Children of the flesh → Ishmael → focus on human effort → unbeliever

Children of the divine promise → Isaac → focus on God’s grace → believer

Paul continues …

These things are being taken figuratively: The women represent two covenants. One covenant is from Mount Sinai and bears children who are to be slaves: This is Hagar. Now Hagar stands for Mount Sinai in Arabia and corresponds to the present city of Jerusalem, because she is in slavery with her children. But the Jerusalem that is above is free, and she is our mother.

Galatians 4:24-26

These two women and the two very different paths they represent stand for two covenants. These are the Old and New Covenants,[8] symbolized by two cities, and two women, and two very different “children.”

Old Covenant from the Old Jerusalem → Hagar → slave children

New Covenant from the New Jerusalem → Sarah → free children

Paul’s language is a bit shocking—he compares the Old Covenant to slavery! Did Jesus think that way? Did the man who wrote Psalm 119 think that way (“Your statutes are my delight; they are my counselors,” (Ps 119:24))?

They didn’t.

So, in what way are the “children” from the present Jerusalem “in slavery”? Paul must again be referring to the wrong interpretation of the Old Covenant that he’s been arguing against all along. That’s the best explanation.[9] The Mosaic law isn’t oppressive or evil (“Direct me in the path of your commands, for there I find delight,” (Ps 119:35)). It is not a tool for slavery—“I will walk about in freedom, for I have sought out your precepts,” (Ps 119:45)). Nor is it a vehicle for salvation—it has nothing to do with that.

This suggests it can only be compared to slavery if it’s twisted into something it’s not meant to be. The Mosaic law can become a form of “slavery” if you twist it into a means of salvation. “For if keeping the law could make us right with God, then there was no need for Christ to die!” (Gal 2:21, NLT).

You have a choice of two “mothers,” each corresponding to a particular path:

Go your own way → Hagar as “mother” → slavery

Go God’s way → Sarah as “mother” → freedom

Paul now quotes a passage from Isaiah to strengthen his point:

For it is written: “Be glad, barren woman, you who never bore a child; shout for joy and cry aloud, you who were never in labor; because more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband.”

Galatians 4:27 (quoting from Isa 54:1-3)

In Isaiah’s book, this follows right on the heels of the great prophecy about the Lord’s suffering servant (Isa 52:13 – 53:12). In that passage, God promised that His servant would justify many people, and would see His “offspring,” who are the true believers whom He’ll rescue. After that assurance, Isaiah then says the bit which Paul quotes here in our text—the “barren woman” who has been longing to bear “children” will have her wish, but not in the normal fashion. She won’t bear the children or ever suffer labor pains, nonetheless this “desolate woman” will have multitudes of them.

This is poetry, metaphor—it hints about something deeper. God often refers to his community as a woman (Isa 61:10; Isa 62:4-5; Jer 3:14; Eph 5:25-27)—sometimes an unfaithful woman (see Ezek 16, Hos 1-3). So, this woman to whom God speaks is likely Israel—His covenant family. She is “barren” because the glittering promise from Mt. Sinai (“… you will be my treasured possession … a kingdom of priests and a holy nation,” (Ex 19:5-6)) seems to be nothing but a pipe dream when compared to the crucible of reality—a fantasy.

Children are a sign of God’s blessing—but where are her “children”? Well, God promises that she’ll have them. God’s community will one day be complete, made whole, elevated to that splendor she never really achieved. Isaiah looks forward to the new covenant, when Jesus will make all those promises to Abraham come true.

Why does Paul quote this passage? He connects the “good mother” with Sarah, who waited upon God even through apparent barrenness. Sarah will have more children than the “other woman,” Hagar.[10] The Galatian Christians are children of the free woman, symbolized by the new Jerusalem (“she is our mother,” Gal 4:26)—they’re Israel’s “children.” Anyone who shares Abraham’s faith is a child of Abraham, and an heir in God’s family (Rom 4:16-17; Gal 3:26-29). Every new believer is a precious “child” given to that barren woman, Israel, who once thought she’d blown it and would never have offspring.

Now you, brothers and sisters, like Isaac, are children of promise. At that time the son born according to the flesh persecuted the son born by the power of the Spirit. It is the same now.

Galatians 4:28-29

Christians who trust Jesus, through the simple Good News He preached, belong to Sarah and are “children of promise.” What happened between Isaac and Ishmael? Ishmael harassed his younger stepbrother (Gen 21:9). “It is the same now,” in that the other “children” (those who belong to the slave woman—the Old Jerusalem) harass the true children who are free.

Children of promise → free → true believers

Children of the flesh → slaves → false believers

These “slave children” are the false teachers and all who believe in the equation “Jesus + something else = salvation.” Some bible teachers believe they are the Jews and the Old Covenant, but this is wrong—the Old Covenant (properly interpreted) isn’t evil and doesn’t produce slavery. Instead, Paul has been arguing against the “works righteousness” crowd and he continues that here.

But what does Scripture say? “Get rid of the slave woman and her son, for the slave woman’s son will never share in the inheritance with the free woman’s son.”

Galatians 4:30

When Ishmael harassed Isaac, Sarah told her husband to send Hagar away. “She has no part in any of this!” What’s the connection to the situation in Galatia? Well, just as Sarah (the “mother” of freedom in this analogy) sent away Hagar (the “mother” of slavery), so too should the Christians in Galatia “get rid of” these false teachers and everyone else who believes in that fraudulent salvation equation. They have no share in Abraham’s inheritance. They aren’t children of the free woman—they belong to someone else entirely. Send them packing, and don’t fall for their tricks!  

Therefore, brothers and sisters, we are not children of the slave woman, but of the free woman.

Galatians 4:31

And there it is.

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.

Galatians 5:1

By accepting Christ, the Galatian Christians escaped from slavery. They were in bondage to the “elemental spiritual forces” of works righteousness (Gal 4:3, 8-10), but that’s all in the past. Paul spoke of Sarah and “freedom.” Well, it was for freedom that Christ has set us free. So, don’t go back to prison!     

Mark my words! I, Paul, tell you that if you let yourselves be circumcised, Christ will be of no value to you at all. Again I declare to every man who lets himself be circumcised that he is obligated to obey the whole law.

Galatians 5:2-3

If they decide to go down the “Jesus + Mosaic law = salvation” road, then they’re spitting in Christ’s face. We can’t be perfect, and so that’s why Christ came. But if, knowing that, you still want to try to obey the Mosaic law as if it were a way of salvation then Christ is worthless to you. If you want to go that way, then you’d better be willing to be perfect and obey the entire law.

Good luck with that.

Again, Paul is arguing against the common misunderstanding of the Mosaic law that the false teachers are peddling—the same confusion that Jesus dealt with. The Mosaic law was never intended as a vehicle for salvation—it was simply a code for holy living while God’s people waited for the Messiah. Centuries of tradition had crusted over top of the Old Covenant and turned it into a burdensome thing—a yoke of bondage.

You who are trying to be justified by the law have been alienated from Christ; you have fallen away from grace.

Galatians 5:4

The word which the NIV renders as “have been alienated from Christ” means to be “parted from” or to “abolish.”[11] This is a moment of cosmic significance. If you choose that false equation of “Jesus + something else = salvation,” then you’ve chosen a false message. That means you’ve been parted from Christ, separated from Him. The union that once was is severed, abolished.

The people don’t do the severing—God does it. The text (and the Greek words behind it) don’t read “you’ve alienated yourselves from Christ.” It reads “you’ve been alienated/parted from Christ.” Why has this happened? Why has God cut them loose from Christ? Because they “have fallen from grace.”[12]

Some Christians today might interrupt and ask, “is Paul saying they’ve lost their salvation?” The answer is that Paul’s not addressing that question here, and we shouldn’t pretend he did—even in the interests of theological tidiness.[13] He’s issuing a frustrated warning. In real life we know we must balance one statement with another. Say your husband tells your child, “I’ve had it with you and your phone. All you do is stare at it. You don’t do anything else all day!” Should you then wonder, “Does my husband hate telephones? Will he sell his phone? Will I have to buy him a retro pager, instead?” The truth is that your husband isn’t really talking about telephones at all. He just thinks your son spends too much time staring at it. He’s worried about him and spoke harshly to get his point across.

Paul is doing something similar—he isn’t addressing salvation, he’s just issuing a harsh warning. If you choose that wrong route, you’ve fallen from grace and God will sever you from relationship with Jesus—because that’s the choice you made. This is very dangerous. Stop it now and come to your senses! He says all this to make them reflect, to think about what they’re doing (see v. 10).

For through the Spirit we eagerly await by faith the righteousness for which we hope. For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision has any value. The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.

Galatians 5:5-6

This passage should probably begin with “but” (see the New Living Translation here) because it’s expressing a contrast—you can either choose works righteousness and thus fall from grace, or you can eagerly await final righteousness through the Spirit. Y’all can do that, but we will do this (etc.).

Jesus is all that matters. Not circumcision. Not tithing. Not your job. Not your automobiles. Not your family pedigree. Not your education. Not how smart you are. In union with Christ, all of that is now useless (see Ecc 1-2)—all that really matters is faith proven by love (see 1 Cor 13). “If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I understood all of God’s secret plans and possessed all knowledge, and if I had such faith that I could move mountains, but didn’t love others, I would be nothing,” (1 Cor 13:2, NLT).

You were running a good race. Who cut in on you to keep you from obeying the truth? That kind of persuasion does not come from the one who calls you.

Galatians 5:7-8

What happened to you all? You used to understand. You used to get it. You used to know the truth. Where did you go wrong? This teaching didn’t come from Jesus—it came from someone else.  

“A little yeast works through the whole batch of dough.” I am confident in the Lord that you will take no other view.

Galatians 5:9-10

Paul quotes a line from one of his letters to the church in Corinth (1 Cor 5:6). Just a little yeast will make the entire loaf of bread rise. In the same way, just a little bit of falsehood will ruin the entire Christian message. But, he says, I’m confident that you’ll correct your course, come to your senses, and tell those troublemakers to, “Hit the road, Jack—and don’t you come back no more, no more, no more, no more …”[14]

The one who is throwing you into confusion, whoever that may be, will have to pay the penalty.

Galatians 5:10

Paul reminds us that troublemakers will pay, in the end. “The LORD examines the righteous, but the wicked, those who love violence, he hates with a passion,” (Ps 11:5).

Brothers and sisters, if I am still preaching circumcision, why am I still being persecuted? In that case the offense of the cross has been abolished.

Galatians 5:11

Verse 11 is difficult. The best explanation seems to be that these false teachers are spreading lies about Paul, suggesting he really preaches “Jesus + Mosaic law = salvation” elsewhere, but has abridged his message to them for sinister reasons.[15] This doesn’t make any sense, Paul says, because he’s hated and persecuted everywhere by these same people! If he preached the false message, the Judaizers would have much less of a problem. Christianity’s great offense is that it requires people to admit, “I’ve been wrong about everything, and nothing I do myself can ever fix my relationship with God!”

There’s a reason why Jesus’ death makes people so angry—because it means we’re criminals and that Jesus was executed in our place. Our salvation hinges on us admitting this to God and choosing to love Him rather than ourselves. It asks us to admit that we’re no good, but that Jesus was voluntarily indicted and executed in our place, for our crimes, as our substitute. That’s what the Christian story says as soon as someone looks at the cross and asks, “why did that have to happen?” It makes us humble ourselves and exalt Him. That offends us, and so the cross makes people angry. We don’t naturally want this, and that’s why in order for anyone to respond to the truth, God must first remove that dark veil so the Gospel light can shine in (2 Cor 4).    

As for those agitators, I wish they would go the whole way and emasculate themselves.

Galatians 5:12

These people are so obsessed with circumcision, why don’t they just cut their penises off? “What could be more fitting?” Paul chortles. Prove the depth of your commitment to God—off with the penis! Nobody can suggest Paul lacked a sense of humor.

In the next part of the letter to the Christians in Galatia, he explains how to properly use this “freedom” from legalism.


[1] The account which follows is largely from John Ferling, Almost a Miracle: The American Victory in the War of Independence (New York, OUP, 2007), pp. 101-104. 

[2] Robert Middlekauff, The Glorious Cause: The American Revolution, 1763-1789, revised ed., in Oxford History of the United States (New York: OUP, 2005; Kindle ed.), p. 314.   

[3] This is literally what he asks in Greek; the NIV tries to smooth it out. 

[4] The conjunction is explanatory, and need not be a formal “for,” like the NIV renders it. 

[5] “The use of symbols in a story, picture, etc., to convey a hidden or ulterior meaning, typically a moral or political one; symbolic representation,” (Oxford English Dictionary, s.v. “allegory,” noun, no. 1. OED Online. March 2023. https://bit.ly/402jNkx (accessed April 14, 2023)).

[6] Luther, Galatians, p. 416. 

[7] Hendriksen, Galatians and Ephesians, pp. 180-181. In a similar vein, Martin Luther wrote, “Therefore the children of the flesh (saith he) are not the children of God, but the children of the promise, &c. And by this argument he mightily stoppeth the mouths of the proud Jews, which gloried that they were the seed and children of Abraham: as also Christ doth in the third of Matthew, and in the eighth of John,” (Commentary on Galatians (Oak Harbor: Logos Research Systems, Inc., 1997), p. 415).

[8] It could well be the Old Covenant and the Abrahamic Covenant, but the latter is the well-spring from which the New Covenant springs. I prefer Old and New Covenants, but I don’t see how it really matters, one way or the other. It’s not worth arguing about. 

[9] Ronald Fung explains that Hagar and the present Jerusalem “stands by metonymy for Judaism, with its trust in physical descent from Abraham and reliance on legal observance as the way of salvation,” (Galatians, in NICNT, KL 2571-2572).

John Calvin notes, “What, then, is the gendering to bondage, which forms the subject of the present dispute? It denotes those who make a wicked abuse of the law, by finding in it nothing but what tends to slavery. Not so the pious fathers, who lived under the Old Testament; for their slavish birth by the law did not hinder them from having Jerusalem for their mother in spirit,” (Commentaries on the Epistles of Paul to the Galatians and Ephesians (Bellingham: Logos, 2010), p. 138).

[10]  Paul’s analogy breaks down when you try to connect too many dots (Hagar was not married), but his point stands. It’s an imperfect allegory to make a point, and we should take the point and not quibble over tidiness.

[11] See (1) LSJ, s.v. “καταργέω,” no. II, p. 908, (2) Louw-Nida, Lexicon,s.v. 13.100, and (3) Abbott-Smith, Manual Greek Lexicon, s.v. “καταργέω,” p. 238.

[12] This particular phrase is epexegetical, meaning it explains a statement just made. “You have been severed from Christ, you all who want to be justified by the law—you have fallen from grace!” (κατηργήθητε ἀπὸ Χριστοῦ, οἵτινες ἐν νόμῳ δικαιοῦσθε τῆς χάριτος ἐξεπέσατε).

[13] “We should not try to diminish the force of these words, in the interest, perhaps, of this or that theological presupposition,” (Hendriksen, Galatians and Ephesians, p. 196). 

[14] See https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uSiHqxgE2d0

[15] See Richard Longenecker, Galatians, in WBC (Nashville: Word, 1990), pp. 232-233. 

Legalism (Mark 7:14-23)

In this sermon, preached on Sunday morning in my church, I completed the account on legalism which spans from Mark 7:1-23. Here, Jesus answers the Pharisees’ accusation about why His disciples ate food with hands that were “defiled.” The Pharisees, in a misguided attempt to preserve their Jewishness in a culture and time that was not Jewish any longer, had built up an oppressive edifice of oral traditions that had come to almost take the place of the law.

The point of this account is that the Pharisees were concerned with external appearance, with cultic, ritual purity. They was no emphasis on internal purity of heart. The admonitions of Moses to love the Lord with all their heart, soul and might had been seemingly forgotten (Deut 6:5). The exhortation to be an Israelite in heart, not merely in outward show, was not being obeyed. God desired a not merely an external circumcision (Gen 17:11), but an inward circumcision of the heart as well (Deut 10:16). The outward conformity was supposed to be the fruit of an inward love for God.

Christ makes it very clear in this account that it is what comes out of a man’s heart that defiles him, not what comes from the outside (Mk 7:15). Our hearts prove that we are all morally unclean, and no matter what we do on the outside to try to clean ourselves up in the eyes of men, the very thoughts (let alone actions) of our own hearts betrays our sin and our moral “uncleanness.”

The inevitable conclusion here, left unsaid but Christ but implicit in His instruction, is that we are all morally unclean! We cannot make ourselves clean – we do not possess that power. We can only be cleansed by Jesus Christ, upon sincere repentance from sin and saving faith in Him (Mk 1:15).

The legalistic society of the Pharisees was perhaps as far from the love of God as it is possible to get. I spend a few minutes giving a handful of cursory examples of  just how legalistic normal life was like in Inter-testamental Judaism. The bottom line is that it was not a happy life. There was no love for God, no happiness or joy in serving Him. How could there be, in such an oppressive, tradition-bound society such as this!? A quotation from Emil Schurer makes the point pretty clearly;

Nothing was left to free personality, everything was placed under the bondage of the letter. The Israelite, zealous for the law, was obligated at every impulse and movement to ask himself, what is commanded? At every step, at the work of his calling, at prayer, at meals, at home and abroad, from early morning till late evening, from youth to old age, the dead, the deadening formula followed him. A healthy moral life could not flourish under such a burden, action was nowhere the result of inward motive, all was, on the contrary, weighed and measured. Life was a continual torment to the earnest man, who felt at every moment that he was in danger of transgressing the law; and where so much depended on external form, he was often left in uncertainty whether he had really fulfilled its requirements. On the other hand, pride and conceit were almost inevitable for one who had attained to mastership in the knowledge and treatment of the law. He could indeed say that he had done his duty, had neglected nothing, and had fulfilled all righteousness. But all the more certain it is, that this righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees which looked down with proud thanks to God upon the sinner, and pompously displayed its works before the eyes of the world, was not that true righteousness which was well-pleasing to God.[1]


[1] Emil Schurer, A History of the Jewish People in the Time of Jesus Christ, 2nd division, vol. 2 (Peabody, MS: 2012), 125.

Laying Aside the Commandments of God (Mark 7:1-13)

Sermon notes – Mark 7:1-13

Here, we see the tragic and disgraceful results of legalism imposed upon a people. Some Pharisees and scribes come down from Jerusalem once more to hear and investigate Christ. They soon accuse Him of violating the commandments of the elders by eating bread with unwashed hands (Mk 7:5). Note, they took issue with Christ’s violation of the traditions of men, not of God! There is no OT command for everyday men to ritualistically wash before a meal!

I want to take a moment to emphasize a point – it is far too simplistic to simply call the Pharisees legalistic, evil men and move on to the next Scripture passage. Why were they so legalistic? The answer is that they were seeking to preserve their Jewishness in a distinctly un-Jewish world. The destruction of the temple and the sack of Jerusalem by the Babylonians in 586 B.C. completely decimated the social, cultural, political and religious structure of the Jewish state. Their national identity as a people of God had been abolished in one fell stroke. Even later, after the return from exile, the Jews existed as a mere vassal state of the Persian, Greek, and now Roman Empires. Even today, the modern state of Israel has not been reconstituted as it was before the fall of Jerusalem. The times of the Gentiles are still ongoing.

Consider these very important points:

“Rituals concerning cleanness and uncleanness reflect rabbinic developments more than actual Torah prescriptions . . . As Judaism’s encounter with Gentile culture increased in the post-exilic period, however, the question of ritual cleanliness took on new significance as a way of maintaining Jewish purity over against Gentile culture.”[1]

“[T]he defeat and exile faced the surviving Hebrews with the loss of their central national and religious institutions. They were without a unifying center of influence. They were forced to rethink the nature of God, his relation to them, and the viability of Old Testament religion. They were thrown into close contact with other cultures, and their traditional way of life became difficult or impossible. They, in a new way, confronted the relation between religion and culture. In every area the Hebrew race and its political and religious systems encountered a constant threat to survival.”[2]

Much like the erroneous and dangerous teaching of Roman Catholics who believe in two well-springs of divine authority, Scripture and tradition, the Pharisees in Jesus’ day fell into the very same error.

“The predominance of Pharisaism is that which most distinctly characterized this period. The legalistic tendency inaugurated by Ezra had now assumed dimensions far beyond anything contemplated by its originator. No longer did it suffice to insist on obedience to the commandments of the Scripture Thora. These divine precepts were broken down into an innumerable series of minute and vexatious particulars, the observance of which was enforced as a sacred duty, and even made a condition of salvation. And this exaggeration even made a condition of salvation. And this exaggerated legalism had obtained such an absolute ascendency over the minds of the people, that all other tendencies were put entirely in the background.”[3]

To bring this to a modern context, how do we fall into the same legalistic traps today? We are commanded to be in the world, but not of the world (Jn 17:15). Do we impose legalistic restrictions in our own circles? Consider what Christ has to say on this very important matter.


[1] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel, 2002), 205

[2] J. Julius Scott, Jr., Jewish Backgrounds of the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2001), 108-112.

[3] Emil Shurer, A History of the Jewish People in the Time of Christ, First Division, vol. 1 (Peabody, MS: Hendrickson, 2012), 2.