Liberated to love.
Liberated to love.
Galatians, Part 11: The freedom to which sinners are called in Christ is the freedom to lovingly serve our neighbor.
The theme of Paul through five and a half chapters of his letter to the churches in Galatia has been a dogged reiteration of the gospel of God, which is nothing less than the delightful announcement that God’s Son has done everything necessary to make sinners right with God. Contrary to the opinionated interpretations of the Judaizers, justification is a gift received by grace through faith. There are no merits to be acquired through religious self-effort, no matter how zealous. Indeed, the only possibility of righteousness is to be on the receiving end of it when God’s Word of Promise is grasped by faith, which at once credits the most wretched with the very righteousness of God. After pressing even further into this gospel in the first twelve verses of Chapter 5, the apostle consenses his message into a standalone when he writes: “For you were called to freedom, brothers” (Gal. 5:13).
This summons to freedom is itself a shorthand reference to the gospel of Christ, who himself calls sinners to be free and makes them free by giving himself up to die for their sinners (Gal. 1:4). Inherent to this “call to freedom,” however, is the fact that we who are invited to be free in Jesus aren’t free prior to him calling us. As “slaves of sin,” sinners are indentured servants in bondage to death and darkness, which means that any notion of freedom is nothing but a pretzel of self-centeredness. Jesus’s crucifixion, therefore, is a jailbreak in which sinners are “set free from sin” and made “slaves of righteousness” (Rom. 6:17–18). This corresponds to what Paul says in verse 13: “For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another” (Gal. 5:13).
The freedom to which sinners are called in Christ is the freedom to lovingly serve our neighbor. It’s not the freedom to do as we want or please. Much like the cross itself, Christian freedom is paradoxical since Christ’s emancipation leads to service. “Freedom” that is self-absorbed and self-serving is a farce. It’s not liberty, it’s slavery. Indeed, it’s a warped sort of bondage wherein you are at once both taskmaster and slave. The supposed “freedom” that says you are “free” to do whatever you want is, in reality, subjugation to yourself. There is an inclination to perceive those who are living for themselves as the most “carefree” folks alive but their prodigality is merely a mask for their shackled existence. I am reminded of Charles Dickens’s famous tale A Christmas Carol, where the grumpy old mizer Ebenezer Scrooge is haunted by the ghost of his former business partner, Jacob Marley, who warns him of his impending spectral visitors:
“You are fettered,” said Scrooge, trembling. “Tell me why?”
“I wear the chain I forged in life,” replied the Ghost [of Marley]. “I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it. Is its pattern strange to you?”
Scrooge trembled, more and more.
“Or would you know,” pursued [Marley], “the weight and length of a strong coil you bear yourself? It was full as heavy and as long as this, seven Christmas Eves ago. You have labored on it, since. It [is] a ponderous chain!”
Scrooge glanced about him on the floor, in the expectation of finding himself surrounded by some fifty or sixty fathoms of iron cable: but he could see nothing. (17–18)
Similarly, although some might appear to be living lives free of any inhibitions or restrictions, apart from Christ they are forging for themselves “ponderous chains.” If by “freedom” we mean “the freedom to do as we please,” we are merely using “freedom as an opportunity for the flesh,” which does nothing but elevate your wants, needs, and desires above everyone else’s. Insofar as we subscribe to this definition of freedom, the only result is destruction (Gal. 5:15). After all, there is no such thing as freedom where the flesh is given every opportunity to flourish. Instead, as the apostle explains, the gospel’s offer is exorbitantly better than humanity’s fraudulent freedom since it offers freedom through Christ, which instills in us a desire to lovingly serve our neighbor. “Do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh,” Paul writes, “but through love serve one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself’” (Gal. 5:13–14). “Our freedom in Christ,” John R. W. Stott comments, “is not to be used as a pretext for self-indulgence” (140).
True freedom is adorned by loving and willing service for the sake of others. “Real freedom from [the] law is not [a] license for the flesh,” R. C. H. Lenski notes, “but slaving for others by means of love” (276). Indeed, the hallmark of the Christian faith is “faith working through love” (Gal. 5:6), specifically, a love that dies so that others might live. Jesus, of course, epitomizes this kind of loving and self-sacrificial service when he freely “gave himself for our sins” on the cross (Gal. 1:4; cf. Mark 10:45). In so doing, he won our freedom by emancipating us from the clutches sin and death and demonstrated for the whole world what true freedom looks like. Accordingly, the freedom to which sinners are called in the gospel is the freedom to lovingly serve one another as Christ has done so for us (Gal. 5:14; cf. Matt. 22:34–40; John 13:34–35). To be sure, this service is not performed nor is it conducted out of any sense of compulsion or force. Rather, the gospel of Christ liberates sinners to serve their neighbors freely and impulsively knowing that in Christ they have already been given everything they need. It is the Father’s intent to call us to freedom through his Son so that we might become “partakers of the divine nature” (2 Pet. 1:3–4) or, to use Paul’s terminology, so that we might “walk by the Spirit”:
But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep you from doing the things you want to do. But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law. (Gal. 5:16–18)
As Paul elaborates on the Galatians’ newfound freedom in Christ, he paints a captivating picture of life in the Spirit as one of struggle, conflict, and war. In juxtaposing “the desires of the flesh” with “the desires of the Spirit,” he explains the opposing influences that relentlessly push and pull on the soul. Whenever the term “flesh” is employed, it is a reference to the sinful and fallen nature that is ubiquitous with humanity; that part of us that is consumed with self. Conversely, the mention of the Spirit in this section points us to the Spirit of God who takes up residence inside each of God’s children. These desires are diametrically “opposed to each other” (Gal. 5:17). Your corrupt, fallen, and sinful nature does not want you to “walk by the Spirit” or to follow God’s lead and, instead, sees freedom as an opportunity to satisfy itself and ensure that you are always first. But when such an opportunity is given to “the flesh,” it can only lead to ruin (Gal. 5:19–21).
The apostle’s list of vices is referred to elsewhere as “the unfruitful works of darkness” (Eph. 5:11), each of which, to be sure, embodies the grossest forms of self-interest and self-absorption. These “works of the flesh” are the result of a heart “turned in on itself,” which is what the Protestant Reformers described by the phrase “incurvatus in se.” The filthy deeds of the flesh are nothing but the byproducts of our sinful nature, making Paul’s admonishment to resist this nature by keeping in step with the Spirit all the more essential. Indeed, rather than conceding ground to the flesh, those who have been liberated by Christ are called to “walk by the Spirit” (Gal. 5:18, 25). In so doing, sinners who have been justified freely by grace will be made to bear the “fruit of the Spirit” (Gal. 5:22–23).
It is critical that we discern what Paul is saying since it is far too easy to understand lists such as this one as if they are nothing more than “checklists.” Consequently, Paul’s tabulation of these spiritual fruits is not so that the church might know the things to avoid and the things to rehearse. Rather, the fruit of the Spirit is best understood not as a religious prescription of what to do but as a divine description of what God’s Spirit does in us. They’re his fruit, not ours. The Judaizers (and their legalistic offspring) relish in these lists because they see in them an inventory of ways to better themselves and make themselves right with God. But, of course, that is an impossible endeavor — not to mention, that completely misses Paul’s point. We don’t bear the fruit of the Spirit so that we can be justified, we bear fruit because we are justified. The fruit is a byproduct of our freedom; it is a concomitant result of abiding on the True Vine (John 15:1–5). Those who belong to Christ — who’ve been “baptized into Christ” (Gal. 3:27) — will bear fruit and, therefore, they will demonstrate to whom they belong.
Accordingly, Paul gives us a blindingly honest perspective of what it means to be a Christian. While we are justified freely because of Christ, the residue of sin remains. “With respect to the flesh, we are sinners,” Martin Luther attests, “but regarding the Spirit, we are righteous” (461). Until Jesus returns, we who are redeemed live in the tension of simul iustus et peccator, that is, “simultaneously justified and sinner.” This explains why Paul has to remind the Galatians not to “gratify the desires of [their] flesh.” Although they have been made right with God because of Jesus, they are not perfect. They are still burdened by the flesh, which never ceases to rage against the Spirit. Therefore, the life of freedom to which sinners are called is encapsulated by who you are listening to and whose lead you’re following. The Holy Spirit of God is he who lives inside of you, who leads you, and who “guides you into all truth” (John 16:13). The more you listen to the Spirit, “live by the Spirit,” and “keep in step with the Spirit” (Gal. 5:25), the more you will be “conformed to the image” of the Son (Rom. 8:29).
It is only in, with, and by the Holy Spirit that we ever experience true freedom, for he is the one who ministers to us the great accomplishments of the cross. This remains the Spirit’s one magnificent objective. He is sent from heaven for the specific purpose of bearing witness to Christ alone (John 15:26). Consequently, we are made to lovingly and freely serve our neighbor precisely because God’s Spirit won’t let us forget how God’s Son did the same for us. As we draw closer to him by faith, he draws closer to us, enrapturing our hearts and minds with the finished work of Jesus on our behalf. We love others because he first loved us, and by loving others we bear his fruit.
Works cited:
Charles Dickens, Christmas Books and Hard Times (London: Chapman & Hall, 1891).
R. C. H. Lenski, The Interpretation of St. Paul’s Epistles to the Galatians, to the Ephesians, and to the Philippians (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg, 1961).
Martin Luther, Commentary on Saint Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians (1535): Lecture Notes Transcribed by Students & Presented in Today’s English, translated by Haroldo Camacho (Irvine, CA: 1517 Publishing, 2018).
John R. W. Stott, The Message of Galatians: Only One Way, The Bible Speaks Today Series (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1986).