Chapter 12
There is a common idea among Christians that Christ's death on the cross only cleans us. Now that we have a clean slate, the thinking goes, it's up to us to make sure we keep it clean. If we don't keep it pretty much spotless, then we'll miss out on salvation. This misunderstanding of the cross issues a one-way ticket to law-based thinking. And all law-based thinking sets up criteria for what is acceptable and what is not. That in turn leads to a system of grading sins, with the peculiar idea that I can do "little sins" which don't stain much, but I must be careful not to do "big sins" which might jeopardise my salvation.
For example, a minister of religion told a friend of mine that because his father had got divorced, his father had committed a "mortal sin," which meant he could no longer expect salvation. He was going to hell. In that way of thinking, there would be no forgiveness. But ask that same minister whether it would be OK to cheat a little bit on his tax forms, just a tiny bit, and he may prevaricate and say that it probably wasn't OK, but it wasn't a "mortal sin." I have witnessed this sort of explanation. It is classic law-based thinking.
The joy of Paul's message is that it gets rid of all that. A Christian is someone who is part of God's kingdom, part of God's family. They have a tremendous security that is not based on them doing stuff. It is a gift that keeps giving. It keeps giving even after they've died. It is an eternal gift.
Then what about bad behaviour? What about evil behaviour? Can Christians get away with it? Looking at Paul's message, it might seem so. Those with law-based thinking can get infuriated by this message, thinking it's a superficial free pass.
But to reject Paul's message — or this interpretation of it — as a free pass demonstrates a lack of understanding of the message.
A Christian, living in this world and living with their own sin, is also crucifying their "fleshly desires" and keeping in step with the Spirit. That's how they should live. They should be walking on the road with the Spirit. They should be trying to crucify all sins, both small and large — from adultery to calling one's brother "you fool," to cheating on their tax forms. That is, they should not be "winking" at any sin. They should aim to be perfect, as our heavenly Father is perfect.
But anyone who has been in a church longer than five minutes will discover that no one there is perfect. Despite being on the road, any individual will be able to tell you that Christians still do bad things. As is often truly said, "a church is full of sinners."
These are true words — a church is not perfect. It is indeed full of sinners. But those sinners should be sinners who are crucifying the flesh and trying to walk by the Spirit. They should be "on the road," so to speak.
So when they are not doing that, there is a problem. Bad behaviour in a church needs addressing.
Paul knows this.
Brothers, if someone is caught in a trespass, you who are spiritual should restore him with a spirit of gentleness. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. (Galatians 6:1)
Yes — if someone is caught in a sin, we are to address it by restoring that person gently.
We are not very good at doing that, in Australia at least. We have a reputation for being direct, and though that is occasionally true, it has not been my experience. The modern English person seems far more direct to me. We seem to be a nation of passive-aggressive people. We may dream about confronting someone, but the thought of actually addressing their sin is appalling to us.
And when, after much avoiding, teeth-grinding and obfuscating, people do finally address an issue of sin, it can all come out at once. It is often not gentle.
Happily, Paul has given the Galatians — and us — some guidelines. First of all, what sin is he talking about? I believe he's referring to the acts of the flesh, which "are obvious": sexual immorality, impurity, debauchery, idolatry, sorcery, hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, rivalries, divisions, factions, envy, drunkenness, orgies and the like (the list Paul gave back in Chapter 11). These are obvious to everyone except, perhaps, the person caught by them.
He is not referring to the little irritations we may have with one another. They may be very real, everyday irritations, but dealing with those is more a matter of "bearing with one another" than of "restoring someone." Nor is he referring to those times when someone does not meet the standards we have set for ourselves — the "inner law" that many of us use as a gauge for someone's spiritual walk, such as church attendance, Bible reading or prayer. We can certainly encourage people in those essential disciplines of the Christian life, but we must not use them as a standard of salvation. I believe we are only to address the acts of the flesh, which are obvious.
Secondly, it is those who live by the Spirit who are to do the job. It is not open slather for everyone in the congregation to have a go and kick the person while they're down. It is for those who are in step with the Spirit.
This is where it gets a bit tricky, because who are those people?
They are the people who show the fruit of the Spirit — those who are full of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (the fruit Paul listed in Chapter 11). It's for those people to do the "restoring." This is not just a responsibility for the leader of the church. It's a responsibility for every member of the church who walks by the Spirit.
Thirdly, Paul gives us no instruction about how that person is to be restored — except to do it gently. One would assume it means talking to the individual, but it might not necessarily be that. The key is to address it, but to address it gently.
So there it is: people caught in obvious sin, to be restored by those who are obviously in step with the Spirit, and the restoring done gently.
Easy?
Not really.
In my experience, our immediate anxiety relates to how we are coming across, or to whether it is even right to proceed. But Paul cites another issue, one that does not immediately stand out to us. The issue is temptation. Commentators have mentioned the temptation to join in the very sin the individual is caught in (for example, "Impurity is not that bad. It's funny. Come and join me."). But there may be greater temptations than the sin itself for those who want to restore someone. They may feel tempted to be proud — to feel they know more than others, to feel like the puppet master, to become conceited.
Likewise, if the person being restored refuses to act and carries on in the obvious sin, there is a temptation to engage in factions, to try to force them to repent, or to punish them. There is a temptation to throw off the injunction to do things gently and to use a bit of stick.
But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. (Galatians 6:1)
What we are called to do instead is this:
Carry one another's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. (Galatians 6:2)
This means not only addressing people who are caught in sin, but also supporting one another, encouraging those in the church, thinking the best of people, wanting the best for people, and tolerating their sometimes irritating behaviour — while gently pulling them up if they are entrapped. In short, loving them. When we do that, we fulfil the law of Christ, which is a law like none other.
In Paul's day, most people who became followers of Jesus were slaves, though there were also a few high-born people. It is not hard to imagine the slaves finding some of the habits of the high-born lordly, patronising or effete. Likewise, the high-born may have found some of the behaviour of slaves gauche, vulgar and common. This is where carrying each other's burdens kicks in. It's where loving people starts to operate. It is where we all need to keep in step with the Spirit.
It is at this very cultural point that many followers of Jesus come unstuck. They feel they should take charge of the situation. They think that restoring people means simply telling them where they're wrong and telling them what to do. In trying to fulfil the law of Christ, one can easily slip into thinking one knows better.
If anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself. (Galatians 6:3)
This is the supreme temptation: to think you are something when you are not. And it does not only apply to the doers in the church — those who are up front, or the main organisers, or the Bible study leaders. It applies equally to those who sit quietly, not saying a word. Those quiet individuals can also think they are something when they are not, as they inwardly click their tongues in disapproval or wear a silent, patronising smile at how wrong and misguided everyone else is.
Nothing kills congregations more than people thinking they are something when they are not — be they a minister, an elder, or a congregational member who insists that if only everyone listened to what they said (that is, did what they said, that is, obeyed them), there would finally be peace and harmony and everything would be better.
This is where it really gets delicate. Paul calls the Galatians to "restore someone caught in sin." That takes judgement — being willing to say, "This behaviour of this individual is sin in a way that needs action." But at the same time, he calls the Galatians to bear with one another — that is, to not take action, and to not fall for the temptation of pride.
How can we navigate such turbulent waters?
Paul tells us to test our own actions.
Each one should test his own work. (Galatians 6:4)
We've all got our do-it-yourself home test kit. This is a very convenient but sobering test, because it tests our actions, not against anyone else, but against God. Most other test kits gauge us against others. Where do I sit on the exam? What was the average? What was the top score, and what was the lowest? That's fine for an exam, and entirely appropriate there. But to apply that method to our own actions and behaviour is wrong. Testing yourself against others will always — always — give a false reading. Either you are worse than the other person, which can lead to despair, discord, envy or rage; or you are better than them, which can lead to false confidence, arrogance and selfish pride.
We test our own actions, comparing them against God, the benchmark of everything right and just — God, who knows our hearts and our secret sins and motivations, the God who also knows our weaknesses.
Then he will have reason to boast in himself alone, and not in someone else. (Galatians 6:4)
The pride Paul is talking about here is, of course, the right kind of pride: the pride a craftsman can have, or a chef in an exquisite meal that was enjoyed. It is the pride of a street kid who is actually learning to live in a palace.
and not in someone else. (Galatians 6:4)
We are all different people. We have all been given different personalities, and we have different circumstances and phases of life. As such, even though we are all fallen and equally vulnerable to many sins, there are some temptations specific to the individual. Take, for example, the temptation to sexual impurity: though it is lifelong, it is particularly intense for the young. The temptation to put financial security above everything else is strong in middle age, but not so much for the young. And the temptation to make absolutely everything about yourself is particularly strong for the elderly.
The temptations of different stages of life aside, we all have our own personal temptations too. One person may find that "fits of rage" come very easily to them. They may find they get what they want if they let their temper go, and so they may be tempted to use it as an effective weapon. Others are not built that way, but naturally gravitate to forming factions to achieve what they think is best. Others find comfort in envy; it can become a great friend to them as they fantasise about their future victories. Still others see envy as a sign of weakness and are not tempted by it at all.
So in some ways we are all the same, in that we all have temptations; but the temptations themselves vary. This makes comparing ourselves to others ridiculous. Someone taking pride that they don't get drunk is nonsensical when they hate the taste of alcohol.
Each of us has a load to bear that is different from the next person's.
For each one should carry his own load. (Galatians 6:5)
But we should not go too far with this. It is possible to carry the load too far. What I mean is that, in carrying the load, we are not meant to internalise everything. The true church is not a community of silence where all our thoughts go unspoken — though some would prefer it that way.
Nevertheless, the one who receives instruction in the word must share in all good things with his instructor. (Galatians 6:6)
We human beings have an incredible capacity for self-deception. It is astonishing that we can use Paul's message in an evil way — to justify our behaviour and conclude that there is no need to crucify the flesh or to keep in step with the Spirit. This is the sentiment that thinks, "Because of what Jesus has done, I can now relax to the point that I don't need to crucify anything in my life, and I don't need to think about keeping in step with the Spirit. I think the Holy Spirit should keep in step with me — because He loves me, right? Why should God demand of me things I don't want to change, now that I'm saved? That's stupid. That's legalistic. That's not the gospel."
This is very close to Paul's message, but it is not Paul's message. When a robot looks very much like a human being but is not one, it can look horrible — like a monster. So too with this idea. It is similar to Paul's message, very close to it, but it is not it. It is a monstrous aberration. As such, it is tremendously ugly.
But it is worse than that. What this idea really is, is an attempt to trap God in His own words. It is almost as though they expect that, at the final Day of Judgment, an individual can pull out their salvation card and say to God, "Ha! You said it! You said it! I've got salvation, and You have to accept me. I have faith. I'm saved."
Do not be deceived. (Galatians 6:7)
Don't kid yourself. Don't succumb to this temptation.
God is not to be mocked. (Galatians 6:7)
Remember that Paul is not addressing unbelievers, some of whom take great delight in mocking God. He is addressing followers of Jesus — people who have accepted and believed Paul's message, who know the gospel. Christians themselves must realise that God cannot be mocked. You cannot out-logic God. You cannot trap God in His own words. There is no theologian clever enough to run verbal circles around God. No one gets off on a legal technicality. You cannot continue to live a life of obvious sin and somehow think you are immune to God's judgement because of Paul's message.
This is an obvious warning, but it is also a great encouragement to us.
When people tried to trap Jesus in His own words, it never ended well for them. Yet the crowd were delighted. They loved it. Why was that? One reason was that the people were oppressed by these word-smiths. People can be bewildered and flummoxed by words. Words can be used to enslave people in guilt, in despair, in fear and in unbelief. The last of these is especially true in our modern day. But our God cuts through all that. God's words bring freedom and life. And when you witness someone spectacularly failing in an attempt to out-trick God's word — that is truly delightful. That is thrilling. That is brilliant, in every sense of the word. No wonder the crowd was spellbound by Jesus' teaching.
Any Christian who tries to "out-word God," or indeed to mock God, in order to justify their own sinful behaviour is in for a shock. Take, for example, those who may chuckle to themselves about their fits of rage or impurity. They may laugh when people point out how distressing it is, perhaps thinking that others shouldn't be so precious. But they are mocking God when they try to justify themselves. And Paul is unequivocal:
Whatever a man sows, he will reap in return. (Galatians 6:7)
Sobering words for us all.
Whoever continues to engage in the acts of the flesh risks terrible consequences. This stands to reason. The idea of someone actively planting things reminds me of a fable told by Paul White. It was about a monkey who loved vultures. He was fascinated by them, and in order to keep them around his tree, he occasionally fed them meat. But he knew the others would not approve of his fascination, so while he fed the birds meat, he made a big song and dance of showing all the others in the jungle how much he hated the creatures. He fed them, then shooed them away, shouting abuse. More vultures came. He fed them more. Even more came. He fed them even more. As the days went on, he gave up the pretence of shooing them away. Eventually there was a huge flock of vultures surrounding him, and the monkey had run out of meat to feed them. He was alone, with a huge flock of vultures around him, and only then did he realise the danger. He had deceived himself. But it was too late. His screams could not be heard as the whole flock fed on monkey flesh.
The key to this fable is the feeding of the vultures — the gentle encouraging of sin. Look again at the list of the acts of the flesh in Chapter 11. We need to ask ourselves: are we encouraging impurity? Are we feeding dissension, or letting factions grow? Are we feeding our hatred? Or, as Paul puts it, are we sowing to please the flesh?
The one who sows to please his flesh, from the flesh will reap destruction. (Galatians 6:8)
This is another fine example of how we human beings need basic truths bludgeoned into us. When someone plants apple seeds, they don't expect rhubarb to pop up. When they plant a blackberry bush, they don't expect watermelons. Yet many human beings think they can plant, say, selfishness, and then wonder why they're not reaping blessings and salvation. What Paul is talking about is simple cause and effect.
And if we keep sowing, we will reap the consequences.
But is Paul suggesting the stakes are salvation itself? It may seem so. Though I think he is saying something more like this: you cannot use the glorious gospel of salvation — which is a free gift and assures salvation — as a licence to please your own flesh. Those who please their own flesh will reap what they sow: destruction.
This sort of language makes the "once saved, always saved" types nervous. But he is not saying, now, after everything he has said in this letter, that one actually needs to do stuff to earn one's salvation. Nor is he saying that if a Christian engages in bad behaviour they're not a real Christian. (If that were the case, we'd all be in trouble.) Rather, he is saying that, now that one has salvation, this is how one should live: you should crucify the flesh and walk in step with the Spirit. And you should be aware that those who think they have been set free to satisfy their "desires of the flesh" and do whatever they please are badly mistaken. They have not understood or embraced the message.
Go back to the metaphor of the individual who has been saved from the street and brought in to live in the king's mansion. This young person may have no idea how to live in such a house. It may take a long time to learn what's expected of them. There are many things they may not understand or realise. But imagine if they broke all the windows, smashed up the chairs, threw food on the ground and generally behaved badly — and kept doing it, refusing to listen. "Sowing to please their flesh." They would eventually reap the consequences.
But the corollary is also true.
but the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life. (Galatians 6:8)
It may be a tough road. It may be a road that is painful. It may be a road full of what some would call "failure." It might at times be difficult in the extreme. But it is joyful and thrilling, and every follower of Jesus has a tremendous helper, without whom we would never survive — the Holy Spirit, who encourages us with the knowledge that we will reap eternal life.
But it needs to be said: this is not without effort. This is not without trying.
Let us not grow weary in well-doing. (Galatians 6:9)
What is extraordinary about this injunction is the mere fact that it is given. There is a temptation to become weary. Who would have thought it? One can become tired of doing good? Really? How? Doesn't the Spirit help us skip down the primrose path of godliness without a care in the world?
Jokes aside, many in the Christian life are permanently weary. How can one not become weary in doing good? It's not possible.
It's not possible because it doesn't come naturally to us. Keeping in step with the Spirit requires some effort. Thanks to our sinful nature, it takes effort to be good. It takes no effort not to be good. We constantly gravitate to the acts of the flesh. We may crucify our sinful nature in one area, but in another area it rises up like an unstoppable zombie. At times it seems it would be easier just to let go for a while.
So there are a few things to say about weariness in the Christian life.
Firstly, law-based salvation will always make us weary. Working for salvation is an exhausting, zero-sum game. It guarantees weariness in doing good. As such, some weary Christians need to rediscover Paul's message.
Secondly, overbooking one's calendar, burning the candle at both ends, and not getting enough sleep are common errors for followers of Jesus who, in their zeal to serve their Master, forget that they have a body which requires looking after and has necessary limitations.
But Paul is not referring to this. He is not referring to people who overwork themselves. He is referring to something different. For a start, he is talking to Christian people, and the very injunction implies a choice. The choice is one of attitude.
In this case, we can choose to become weary.
The temptation is to feel that doing good is a burden, a trial, a difficulty that is too hard to bear, too much to shoulder. That it's kind of irrelevant, now that we're saved and have got our theology worked out. That nothing productive comes from it. That it's just tiring and annoying. That we shouldn't have to suffer fools. That the church service is just tiring and boring — that we just need to get through it and get out of there.
This happens when people start to succumb to bewitchment — the bewitchment that makes it feel that it's all too much, even to be good.
How do we change such an attitude? How do we deal with this temptation to weary cynicism? The antidote of "Christ crucified," which is so effective in the shopping mall of ideas, may not be as effective for individuals with this type of temptation. This is not a temptation about "what is the gospel?" but more a temptation about "how do I live it out?"
Paul encourages the Galatians with the promise of a harvest.
for in due time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. (Galatians 6:9)
Anyone who is tempted to feel weary in doing good should take another look. On a road that may feel long and arduous, there's something around the bend. The Apostle talks about a harvest. He doesn't specify what that harvest is, except that it is something great, something good, something abundant — something that's approaching and worth going for.
I enjoy bushwalking, and I am amazed at the change in my psyche when I realise there is a reward up ahead, be it a rest, a view, or a destination. It is incredible how, when I felt I couldn't take another step, my attitude changed immediately on being told there was some extraordinary wildlife down the track. I forget all my weariness. It turns out I wasn't as tired as I thought. I forget my sore feet — they're irrelevant. I pick up my pace. There's a reward just around the bend.
This is the antidote for those who are tempted to feel weary: you'll reap a harvest. It's going to be great. It's going to be wonderful. You will be delighted. Lift up your heads and keep doing good — with joy.
And, just for those who aim for the stars: the Apostle is not telling the Galatians that they should all be potential contenders for the Nobel Peace Prize. Many folk tend to think of "doing good" as something major — what some might call "making a difference."
It may include that, but it also includes all the little acts that might tempt us to become weary: acts like forgiving our brother or sister or spouse seventy times seven over. It's those little acts that can change our attitude and wear us down. But don't give up! There's a harvest a-coming. Just think what's round the bend.
And this "doing good" applies to all people, not just to believers. One of the things that confuses many believers is that the Christian faith is not a cult. It is not a club with initiation rites, where the initiated are given special privileges among their own, expected to work among their own kind and not engage with others. I've met many Christians who have yearned for exactly that. It's the idea that once you're "part of us," you should stick together, help one another, and obey the leader — to the exclusion of those outside.
This is not what Paul is talking about. God, who sends the rain on the just and the unjust alike, cannot be mocked. We are to treat all people in the same loving way. The message is open to all. Anyone can receive its benefits.
But nor is it a cult in the opposite sense, where the believers are already "in" and can now be ignored — where it's just a recruitment drive, and only those outside but interested in joining take full priority, while the people on the inside can be set aside as already saved.
Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to the family of faith. (Galatians 6:10)
So, just as in a family, we are expected to do good to one another — but this extends beyond the family, to all people.