Galatians 5-6: Christian Freedom and Liberation from the Law #30daysofPaul

"For freedom Christ has set us free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to the yoke of slavery."

So Paul begins chapter 5, kicking off two chapters that are some of the most powerful examples of liberation theology in Scripture. My Harper Collins NRSV Study Bible labels this section "The Nature of Christian Freedom," a very apt classification.

Paul has argued through the first four chapters of Galatians against the need for a return to obedience to the law in light of our justification by our faith. His argument comes to a magnificent head here in chapter 5. In short, Paul tells his readers that by accepting the need for circumcision, and thus the need to be subject to the Law, they are rejecting the freedom God has granted them through their faith. In verse 6, Paul tells them (emphasis mine), "For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything; the only thing that counts is faith working through love."

Because of our faith in the example of Jesus, we are liberated from the shackles that have held us all back from our relationship with God. That liberation releases us from the need to live in a state of fear, dictated by an unyielding code of right and wrong, and allows us to live in the freedom of knowing we are loved unconditionally. That knowledge of our freedom should propel us on to a life of love. It should fill us so full of unconditional love that we have no choice but to live a life that spreads that overflowing love far and wide.

Paul also reminds the Galatians here that this isn't an unrestrained freedom to do whatever we want. In verses 13 and 14 he says,

"For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself."

What an paradoxical example of the love we experience by communing with God. Through overwhelming Christian freedom, we in turn become slaves; our freedom gives us the right to unconditionally serve our fellow man. Some translations and scholars have seen the need to soften the language of slavery here, replacing it with "servant" or some other variation. But I think the word "slave" is so important here, to show the intensity of the life of service we are reborn into.

Paul then moves into parallel lists, first of the things that a life lived in obedience to law puts the focus on: "fornication, impurity, licteniousness, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealously, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy, drunkenness, carousing." The second list is what he calls "the fruit of the Spirit," the things that should shine forth in us if we are truly living in faith: "Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control."

Paul juxtaposes these lists to show what a life lived under the law looks like, and what a life lived in faith looks like. Under the law, the focus of life becomes the first list, and the never ending (and ultimately unsuccessful) attempt to avoid them. In essence, it is a life lived in chains, a life in which we are imprisoned by sin and the fear of violating the law.

In contrast, a life of faith is a life free to live in all those wonderful values Paul lists secondly. It is a truly liberated life, and a life in which we can't not serve and love all we come in contact with.

What a journey Galatians has been. Starting with such evident anger, Paul builds to a crescendo that is beautiful, and so very powerful. And it is all centered around one, coherent message: through Christ, we are now set free from the shackles of the law. Our lives of faith negate any need for the law, and a return to it indicates a lack of faith and a backsliding of our relationship with God.

Remember this theme as we continue into Paul's letters. It is foundational, and should be the lens we read him through from here. We are moving chronologically with Paul, and that gives us the benefit of watching Paul grow; it lets us wipe ourselves clean of the theology we have been taught our whole lives, and instead join Paul in redeveloping a theology of coherence and simplicity.

Tomorrow: 1 Corinthians 1-2

For a PDF of the 30 Days of Paul reading plan, click here.

For more info on 30 Days of Paul, click here for my intro, or here for Cassandra Farrin's explanation.

Click Here for Cassandra Farrin's take on today's reading.

Galatians 3-4: Love or Obedience? #30daysofPaul

When we left Paul in chapter 2, we had just been treated to an exceptional history lesson followed by a powerful statement of Paul's essential theology of justification. Chapters 3 and 4 really expound upon Paul's chief message in this letter: the juxtaposition of law and faith.

Remember how this letter started, with Paul launching right into an angry diatribe in 1:6? Well, he does the same thing in chapter 3; Verse 1 reads "You foolish Galatians!"

Paul is still angry.

There are two specific themes pervading these chapters (and Galatians over all) that I want to focus on. First, this conflict between obedience to the law and faith is a juxtaposition that is still highly relevant to how modern Christianity is practiced and lived. Second, despite his anger, Paul spreads a message of universality and inclusiveness, epitomized by the beautiful words of 3:28.

Paul's chief argument to the Galatians is that our faith through Jesus is all that is necessary to justify our relationship with God, and that right action is a natural, irresistible outcome of that faith. This theory of justification has taken the place of obedience to the law, the idea that our relationship with God is first and foremost predicated on our ability to follow the rules and rack up more good points than bad.

Paul eloquently uses several Old Testament examples to ground this in Jewish tradition, to make this argument congruent with an ancient faith tradition his readers are committed to. Only by making justification by faith look as old as the Jewish nation itself will he be able to convince the Jewish Christians in Galatia that what they are doing is consistent with tradition.

We see this same argument so often in Christianity today. Traditional, conservative Christianity asserts that only through obedience to God's Word (defined as inerrant Scripture) and the laws therein can one have a relationship with God, and consequently be admitted into God's eternal presence. The most important thing a Christian can do, in this view of Christianity, is follow the rules, and only through that  will God grant salvation. Faith plays a role in that it propels one on to obedience of the Law. This model recycles that theory of agency I spoke of Paul rejecting earlier in Galatians: first we act, then God acts.

The other view of agency, God acting and then us acting, is making a comeback, however. Progressive Christianity has led a comeback in recent years of the Social Gospel, of the Christian's duty to work for social justice. This work isn't a burden, but is instead an irresistible call that our faith in the example of Jesus compels us onto. Faith has liberated us from the shackles of the Law, God's grace being the key that opened that lock, and thus we are filled with the call to liberate our fellow man from the things that bind them.

This service-oriented, love filled example is such a compelling model of life, one that can appeal to all humans. And Paul writes in a way that emphasizes this universal appeal. Paul was an ardent universalist. As we saw in his explanation of his own personal history, Paul had given himself the special duty to spread the Gospel message to all people, both Jew and Gentile. Paul is inherently inclusive; he sees no reason to exclude anyone from the good news he is spreading across the Mediterranean Sea. This worldview is expressed so beautifully in chapter 3:

"There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male or female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus."

The church needs to take these words seriously again. Nothing matters but each person's humanity, nothing but the divine spark and imago dei we all carry within us. The law becomes insignificant in light of that.

Paul's desire to free all from the shackles of the Law stems from his desire to welcome all into fellowship as followers of Jesus, up to and including the tradition he had spent the majority of his life upholding. In Paul's view, nothing should stand between us and God.

I believe these two ideas - radical inclusiveness and a relationship built on faith and shown through service- are key to rebuilding a crumbling modern church. Just as Paul grounded his arguments in Jewish tradition to bring along those otherwise resistant while framing it in a new way that appealed to those outside the tradition, so we can ground the values of inclusiveness and love in a two thousand year old tradition while bringing these radical ideas back to the forefront to appeal to a generation who has only seen a Christianity embodied by unthinking obedience and Divine Anger.

We are only four days in, and I'm appreciating Paul more and more. Far from the unappealing, small minded theology I expected, I'm seeing an apostle who was undoubtedly inclusive and progressive in his Christology and theology. Yes, he is angry here, and he can be a braggart and driven by personal grievances from time to time, but it's becoming easy to see why he has played such a central role in the Christian faith. It's time we reclaimed Paul as the radical, exciting thinker he was.

Galatians 1-2: Diving Into the Deep End #30daysofPaul

1 Thessalonians was a good place to start a study of Paul's authentic letters, and not just because chronologically it is first. Paul is so warm and joyful in writing to the church at Thessaloniki; his happiness over their growth comes so easily through the words he wrote. The infectiousness it makes you want to read more Paul. It is also a good place to start with Paul theologically; he touches on several of his biggest preoccupations, but in a simple way, and lets you get comfortable with the way he talks about things.

Galatians is the polar opposite of 1 Thessalonians. Paul is angry, defensive, jealous, argumentative and accusatory, all in just the first two chapters. He dives right into the meat of his theological worldview, of his take on the gospel. Despite the tone, Galatians is extremely engaging and extraordinarily interesting, especially in how well it explains the early personal politics in the church, between such giants as Paul, Peter, John and James.

I split these two chapters into three main parts:

1. The backstory of Paul
2. Early church politics
3. Paul's gospel

Overall, Paul is writing to a church in Galatia (central Anatolia, in modern day Turkey) that he planted, a church of Gentiles who have become convinced by unnamed persons that they must adhere to Judaic law if they want to be considered followers of Christ. This is in direct contradiction to what Paul has premised his entire public ministry on, and boy is he angry. Let's hit each of these emphases one-by-one.

The Backstory of Paul

Galatians begins in a way that no other letter of Paul does. After a short formulaic introduction, Paul launches right into a condemnation of the Galatians in verse 6, exclaiming, "I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you in the grace of Christ..." No prayer of thanksgiving, no praise for good deeds done, not even so much as a "we are thinking fondly of you" or anything.

Like I said, Paul is ANGRY.

After twice calling those who teach them anything divergent from what he taught "Accursed," Paul launches into his own story. In doing so, he gives in to what I think is one of his biggest faults: his tendency to become overly defensive when his authority is challenged.

This defensiveness is understandable on one level. Paul is asserting his leadership in a church where all the other major figures-Peter, James, John-were men who lived and worked with Jesus during his time on earth. Paul did not, instead spending his time as a Pharisee hellbent on wiping out all followers of Christ. So in telling his own story, Paul emphasizes the personal experience of Christ he received at the instigation of God. This framing is so important to Paul in asserting his authority to lead and teach them;  it must be understood by those he is writing to that: 1) he did have a personal relationship of sorts with Jesus, equal to that of Peter and company, and 2) this personal experience wasn't of his own initiation, but instead was the work of God, thus adding the imprimatur of the Divine to Paul's commission.

The idea of a personal faith, characterized by personal experiences of the Divine and personal relationships with God, is central to the kind of church Paul envisions: one centered on the individual, and that individual's ability to experience Jesus without a priestly intermediary. This was an absolutely revolutionary idea, and something the institutional church willingly ignored for centuries after Paul, in order to consolidate it's own power and importance.

Early Church Politics

From his own story, Paul moves into the story of his own relation to other church fathers, and how that has shaped the direction of the early church and it's theology. Paul says after three years (presumably from his conversion experience), he went to Jerusalem and met with Peter and James for fifteen days. My Interpreters Bible commentary speculates this time was spent learning the details of Jesus' life, ministry and death, something not yet written down at this early date, and thus something Paul wouldn't have been intimately knowledgeable about. Paul then says he spent fourteen years in Syria and Cilicia (southern Turkey) before a return to Jerusalem.

This meeting has much more meaning. Paul goes to a meeting with the leaders of the Judaic Christians to relay a "revelation" he claims to have had. Over the ensuing decade-and-a-half from his first Jerusalem trip, Paul has developed the idea of a Universal Church, one with no barriers of Jew or Gentile. He has felt called to carry the gospel beyond the Jewish diaspora to the other peoples of the Eastern Mediterranean, and he wants the official blessing of Peter and his company to do so. Despite the best efforts of those he terms "spies," Paul manages to get assent from Peter, James and John to be the apostle to the Gentiles, while they will focus on the Jews. Paul and his associate and close friend Barnabas get "the right hand of fellowship" from these friends of Jesus, with the only condition that they "remember the poor," presumably through tithes to the Jerusalem church, something Paul claims himself "eager" to do.

But then things go downhill. Paul says he next saw Peter at Antioch, the capital of Syria and the home of many Jews. Paul is angry with Peter for going back on the agreement to bring Gentiles in, because now Peter has been influenced by James' conservative faction that the fact that Paul is not requiring ritual Jewish purity of Gentile converts makes those Gentiles "unclean" and thus unacceptable for Christian fellowship. Paul views this move by Peter not as the fault of Peter, but instead his own necessary acquiescence to the politics of the Jerusalem church, but he is nevertheless ruthless in his treatment of Peter. The betrayal is personal for Paul, both because of the handshake agreement the two sides had, and because it had even caused Paul's close friend Barnabas to abandon him for the Judaic crowd. Paul calls Peter out in front of the Antiochan church for his hypocrisy, setting off the on-going theological struggle that has invaded the Galatian church by the time of Paul's writing.

Paul's Gospel

The last section is just six verses, but man, it packs quite the theological punch. Coming off that explanation of how the church got to this place of disunity, Paul launches into a succinct, powerful explanation of the gospel as he sees it. Paul begins by stating that persons are "justified not by the works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ." What he means here is, we don't receive justification from God due to our adherence to Jewish law, but through the faith we have in Jesus.

Previously, man needed the law to receive justification; by adherence to the law, we could strive to receive the redeeming action of God by living true to God's instructions. But Paul sees this as limiting God; laws require only obedience, but God desires more than just obedience; God desires our love. God desires obedience to God's self not because of obligation, but because we are compelled to obedience through love expressed by our faith in Jesus. Through faith, we have no choice but to act in obedience, not because it is demanded, but because in having faith, we become one with Christ, driven by the same concern and love of others he lived with. We become compelled to work for constant liberation of our brothers and sisters, and this fulfill the purposes of the law, without being beholden to it or driven by it.

In this formulation, agency has been shifted; previously we acted in obedience, and then God bestowed justification; now, God bestows justification because of our faith, and then we are compelled on to action. The Interpreters Bible puts it this way:

"(Paul) never allows us to forget that to be crucified with Christ is to share the motives, the purposes, and the way of life that led Jesus to the Cross; to take up vicariously the burden of the sins of others, forgiving and loving instead of condemning them; to make oneself the slave of every man; to create unity and harmony by reconciling man to God and man to his fellow men; to pray without ceasing "Thy will be done"; to consign one's life to God, walking by faith where one cannot see; and finally to leave this earth with the prayer "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit." "

This is powerful and consequential stuff, stuff that makes up much of Christian theology as we know it, but was very much in doubt at the time of Paul. He answers critics who might view this theory of Christian action as self-serving by explaining that Christ inhabits us upon our justification, and we can act in no way but in a way consistent with the life of Christ. He ending challenge, "if justification comes through the law, then Christ died for nothing," is a powerful shot across the bow of Peter (Jesus' Rock) and James (Jesus' brother.) It's a hard point to argue, and probably why the theology of Paul was eventually so ascendant over the Jerusalem church. By making the statement, Paul was asserting his view of the purpose of Jesus' life, a purpose centered not on calling people to obey the law, but centered instead of love of others and concern for the liberation and welfare of one another, above and beyond what the law requires.

These two chapters are heavy. There is a lot going on here, a lot to wrap your mind around, and all of it so important as we move forward with Paul. Understanding the background material Paul presents here, and grasping his powerful explanation of justification by faith, is essential to understanding the rest of the Pauline canon. Take the time to read slowly and deeply, and then get ready to get even deeper in the weeds.

Tomorrow: Galatians 3-4

For a PDF of the 30 Days of Paul reading plan, click here.

For more info on 30 Days of Paul, click here for my intro, or here for Cassandra Farrin's explanation.

Click Here for Cassandra Farrin's take on today's reading.

Sermon on The Fullness of Time

I had the opportunity to preach at my home church, College Hill United Methodist in Wichita, this last Sunday. The following is the text of my sermon. The scripture reading for the day was Galatians 4:4-7.


Let me preface today's message with a request. Now, I know as a progressive, rational Christian, I can get tied down in the details of Biblical accounts like that of the Nativity. My brain knows that Jesus wasn't born in December, he probably wasn't visited by shepherds and Magi, it's doubtful his birth was any less ordinary than any other, and that the idea of a Virgin Birth wasn't earth shattering, but is in fact a common tool used by ancient writers to set a part a person regarded a special or supernatural. But sometimes, all that can get in way of a good story, of the meaning and truth conveyed in a tale like that of the Nativity. So I ask you this morning, be aware that I am thinking about the story of the birth of Christ as written in the Gospels, manger and Magi and star and all, to carry the message I want to pass along today, and I ask you to also immerse yourself in the truth and beauty of the Nativity Story.


We have just come through Advent, through the long four week lead-in to the birth of Christ. Advent is a time of waiting, of thinking, of pondering. It is a time pregnant with hope.


For Mary and Joseph, it was a hope-filled time of anticipating the arrival of a child heralded by angels. A child conceived beyond reason, sent for a purpose they could barely understand. Joseph had been told to name him Emmanuel, “God with us.” They knew this baby meant a change in everything they had ever experienced, that he would usher in a new life for them. Mary references this in her great song, when she says “From now on, everyone will consider me highly favored.” All in all, it was a pregnancy full of hope, excitement, expectations beyond what could be imagined, the promise of a life that would change human history like nothing before and after.


And yet, it was still a pregnancy. For all the fanfare and angels and songs, Mary was still charged with carrying a baby for ten months at a very young age. And at the end of those long, nauseous, sleep-deprived, pickle-and-ice cream-filled months, Mary would go through intense labor, without the modern convenience of epidurals and pain relievers, not to mention air conditioners and ice cold water. All the prophecy in the world could never quench the nervousness that Mary surely felt. Undoubtedly, in her very own village, she had seen multiple pregnancies and births, and very likely several unsuccessful ones. It had to be scary.


Ari and I have been through two pregnancies over the last three years, as well as two births with no medication, no epidurals, and no artificial induction. Granted, we had ac and cold drinks, not too mention steak dinners waiting for us on the other side. But nevertheless, for as wonderful as the experiences were, they were also scary. Especially the second time, after the massive hemorrhaging we experienced with Julian, knowing it could happen again. And it did, and it was quite scary. But we had the best medical care any one could ask for. We were well taken care of, and saw the wonderful benefits of 21^st century science and medicine. I can't imagine going through all of that without the safety net of well trained midwifes and doctors, and state of the art hospitals and birth centers.


All of this is to say, Mary had to feel fear and apprehension. Giving birth to a child was no sure thing in first century Palestine. And then showing up in Bethlehem, finding no where to stay, and facing the prospect of giving birth in a stable. A stinky, unsanitary, animal-filled stable. Terrifying is probably to mild a word to attach to the teenage Mary and her husband. And we haven’t even mentioned the shame her and Joseph must have felt. At the time of the pregnancy, they were not married. To have conceived a child before marriage was something that would have brought mountains of shame not just on them, but on their families. With that would come anger, and perhaps even exclusion from their families and home.


And yet, clearly, the birth went well. A happy, healthy, beautiful little boy was born. And to welcome him into the world were shepherds there to worship God, and Magi from the east, bearing priceless treasures. Out in the fields, a host of angels sang the new baby into the world with their heavenly voices, and high above, a shining star marked the birth of this remarkable child. An awe-inducing scene, a fitting majestic entrance for the one who is destined to change the world in unknown ways.


But again, reality surely intruded. The next day dawned for an exhausted Mary, sore and weak and cold and hungry. Joseph was tired, worried about his wife, anxious that this child, whom so many were counting on, show all the signs of health. And, for all the pictures we see of a haloed, smiling, reassuring little baby Jesus, the fact is, he was a newborn baby. Which means he probably didn't allow mom and dad much sleep that night, or for several night after. He cried. He had spit up. He had dirty and wet diapers. And those weren't nice, snug Huggies from the local Dillon’s.


In the face of all these ordinary baby events and habits, surely Mary and Joseph felt a little let down. They had this child built up to mythical proportions before he was born, and yet, he was still a baby, and life for this small, poor, rural family was undoubtedly HARD. The disappointment they had to feel at the normalness of their life’s in those first months and years had to be almost devastating at times.


Advent and Christmas can make us feel the same way. We spend four weeks anticipating, building up to this most important of Christian holidays. We celebrate joy and peace and hope and love. We are encouraged to pray and meditate and practice new spiritual disciplines. Here at CHUM, we contemplate the coming of Christ and the hope of a justice filled world that he showed us was possible. We think about how we can roll forward into a new year, emboldened by the holiest time of year to live our lives with Christ in pursuit of the Kingdom he described to us. Hope is truly the best word to describe the feelings we experience during Advent.


And yet here we are. Three days since Christmas. And its still the same old world we find on the other side of the holiday. It's still a world filled with injustice. And it still will be going forward. In 2015, we will see more Eric Garners and Mike Browns, more shutdowns and budget cuts, more Ebola and ISIS, more “religious liberty” fights and roll backs of the gains made over the last fifty years in civil rights and voting rights and equal rights.


What was all that hope about? We go through Advent every year. We dream of new world, ushered in by the birth of a baby, sent to make justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an every-flowing stream. And yet it doesn't seem like things are getting significantly better.


Disappointment is a good word. We can commiserate with Mary and Joseph a bit.


We see the same theme in the Old Testament Scripture from today's lectionary. Isaiah 61:10 through 62:3 was written as the Israelites were returning to Jerusalem from exile in Babylon. It was without a doubt a hopeful a time, to see the kingdom and Temple restored. And yet, arriving back in the Holy City, they find the remnants of destruction: scattered, weed-covered old building stones, and empty Temple mount, very few people. It must have been a sad sight, one made all the more overwhelming by all the work needed to be done to restore their home.


And yet the author of Isaiah finds words of reassurance and hope to give them strength. From the ruins of Jerusalem, he finds the words they Israelites need. “As the earth brings forth its shoots,” he says, “and as a garden causes what is sown in it to spring up, so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all nations....You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of you God.”


Amidst the ruins and destruction, Isaiah sees hope still alive. He sees the potential, and finds the words Israel needed to restore itself, to plant itself once again as God's people, doing justice, loving kindness and walking humbly. Most of all, he senses the presence of God in Jerusalem. Despite the terrible things Israel has been through, he knows God is still at work among them, that God has not once abandoned them.


Mary and Joseph needed this same kind of reassurance. And they found it in Jerusalem as well, on the seventh day of Jesus' life, when they brought him to the Temple to present him to the Lord as first born child. In the temple, the priest Simeon attended to them, and took Jesus from them, and said “This child is destined.” And the Gospels also describes a prophet named Anna who began praising God and to tell everyone who was looking for the redemption of Jerusalem about the child Jesus.


Imagine the reassurance of hope Mary and Joseph must have felt upon hearing this from the religious leaders of the Temple! To be told again of the great things awaiting this child must have renewed for them the feeling that they were in the presence of God, that God was now dwelling with them, not just in the Temple, but right in their very arms, in the form of this beautiful baby.


And so we look for reassurance as well. We look to have our hope restored, to see God present in our world amidst the injustice and suffering and cynicism. We long for the Kingdom described to us by the man this child grew up to be. And we can find it in the verse from Galatians we just heard. When I first read this verse in preparation for this Sermon, that first line really jumped out at me. “But when the fullness of time had come, God sent his son.”

That's our hope. That's our reassurance. In the fullness of God's time, when God choose, the Son was sent to us. Jesus showed us the kingdom, he lived the example of a life immersed in the presence of God, a life embodying justice and mercy and love.

Paul goes on, writing to the Galatians, “So that we might receive adoption as children...So you are no longer a slave but a child.” To unpack this a little back, I look back at the verses leading up the selected reading. Paul writes about how children who are heirs are yet given about as much privilege and freedom slaves were given, which is to say, not a whole lot. He then says, “in the same way, when we were minors, were enslaved by this world' system.” So when he tells us we are no longer slaves but instead are children, Paul is saying our status has changed in light of Christ's time on earth. We are no longer the wards of God, entitled to much but asked of little. Instead, we take up the responsibility of heirs. We are given the task of, not just hoping and waiting, but instead of inheriting our birth right, of being the hope we dream of during Advent. It's our duty, as children of God, to work with every ounce of our passion and talent and will to bring about the Kingdom here on earth.

When we look around post-Advent, when we feel that let down from the high of Christmas, from the ecstatic feeling we get amidst the singing of hymns and lighting of candles and the hope the birth of a child brings, we can remember that we are all named Emmanuel, “God with us.” We all are stamped with the enduring and everlasting image of God, and with that stamp comes great responsibility, to show the world that the fullness of time is NOW, that we are the hope of the Christ child in the world.

Amen.