Paul is defending the heart of the Gospel not as a set of doctrines, but as a living, breathing reality: Christ alive and in us. Today’s Galatians passage confronts us with two intertwined themes: personal transformation and communal inclusion. Paul’s letter is addressed to churches in southern Galatia, such as Antioch, Iconium, Lystra, and Derbe, all in modern-day central Turkey.
The topic? How can we disagree with one another without falling apart? Paul helped establish all these churches during his missionary journeys. In this passage, Paul moves from his own story of change to a public clash with Peter.
At the center of it all is the liberating power of grace, and Paul begins his story with a raw confession:
“You have heard of my former life and how I violently persecuted the church of God and tried to destroy it.”
Paul isn’t hiding who he used to be. He names it. He was deeply religious. His zeal became violent. His tradition gave him certainty while robbing others of life.
Then something happened. Grace interrupted not because he deserved it, nor because he figured things out. But because, as Paul says, “God...was pleased to reveal his Son to me.”
This is the beautiful mystery and miracle of grace. God doesn’t wait until we’re right. God meets us where we are and calls us into freedom.
This same grace is still active today and calls those stuck in systems of oppression, rigid ideologies, or self-hatred into a new life. No one is beyond transformation; neither Paul nor you, nor I.
In Chapter 2, there comes a dramatic confrontation. Paul challenges Peter for withdrawing from Gentile Christians when certain Jewish Christians arrive. Peter knew better. He had already experienced the Spirit falling on Gentiles in Acts 10. He ate with them. But when the religious pressure mounted, he pulled back.
Paul saw what was at stake:
“They were not acting in line with the truth of the gospel.”
What is that truth? That in Christ there is no longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, male and female. The boundaries we use to divide do not define who belongs. Paul speaks up, not out of anger, but rather out of love. Because the Gospel isn’t just about personal salvation. It’s about communal justice. If some are excluded, the Gospel is distorted.
Paul makes the point when he humorously teases with his slightly sarcastic statement, " We ourselves are Jews by birth and not gentile sinners," Obviously, being Jews does not separate them from sin, nor should gentiles be categorically defined as being sinners. Another passage where the biblical humor is sometimes hard to see.
In a world still plagued by boundaries, the church simply cannot remain silent. We are called to speak the truth in love, especially when the table of grace is being fenced off. Then we have Paul’s stunning theological reflection:
“I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me.”
What replaces it? Christ in us. Christ living through us. This is grace not just as pardon, but as presence
Not a transaction, but a transformation.
And Paul goes further:
“If righteousness could be gained through the law, Christ died for nothing.”
This is beyond poetry. This is a spiritual revolution. Paul is saying the old gatekeeper self has died. If people can be justified by behavior, rules, or purity, then the radical love shown on the cross is meaningless. Yet we know this is not meaningless. The cross reveals the heart of God, which contains a love that enters our violence and redeems it. This love tears down every barrier and sets us free to love more fully
We live in a time when religion is often used to exclude, control, and harm. The Gospel calls us into a better way. A way where grace transforms even our hardest hearts. A way where truth calls out hypocrisy. A way where the cross is not a tool of shame, but a symbol of solidarity and liberation.
So let us be like Paul: Rooted in grace. Bold in justice. Centered in Christ.
Let us say with our lives:
“It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me.”
No comments:
Post a Comment