Galatians: Freedom in Christ
In a world that loves to add rules and works, we should run to the freedom that comes through faith, mercy, and grace in Jesus Christ.
The older I get, the blurrier things become, faith included.
No, I’m not deconstructing.
No, I’m not fudging the lines and becoming progressive.
No, I’m not saying what God has said is true has come into doubt.
The Bible has not changed, regardless of what the culture tries to insist.
But in my younger years, I wielded the Bible like a sword to chop people to bits, drawing lines in the sand that had no business being drawn. Passion and the over-confidence that comes when you’re pretty sure you know it all—a strength and weakness of youth—had me fighting battles I didn’t need to fight at all, or I was on the wrong side of.
Do you ever feel confused or overwhelmed at the amount of Christian fighting?
I do.
A lot.
It’s gotten bad enough that I often feel I’ll never be a good enough Christian, based on all of this disagreement as to what proper Christian living and theology looks like, to the point of isolating myself from believers. Sooner or later, I’ll say something, and it’ll spark unnecessary disagreement.
I’ve often referenced the idea of the three types of convictions, something a college professor taught in Systematic Theology class. It has proven to be one of those rare tools that have helped me keep some sanity in the world of fighting Christians, in that, when I can’t wrap my head around the nonsense, I can at least categorize where that nonsense fits.
But read the fine print under the Biblical conviction section on the left.
That’s where it gets really ugly, because there are believers who have latched onto a particular understanding of theology that they are absolutely willing to fight about, split, separate, and avoid each other over. Two true believers who can’t agree on what the Bible says seem impossible if they are filled with the same Holy Spirit, doesn’t it?
And yet we have endless denominations, versions of denominations, church splits, and so it goes, fighting over theology, involving true followers of Christ headed to the same place for eternity. I’m not saying the fights are never worthwhile, but the cumulative effect of everything can be confusion and doubt. (It is one reason I’m very grateful that the Bible doesn’t hold back on showing the reality of church infighting, disagreement, and temper outbursts because I need to know I’m not alone.)
The confidence of my younger years, in which I was sure I was correctly figuring out all the things of faith, has been replaced by someone who actually feels the tension of what it means to work out my salvation in fear and trembling.
Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose. — Philippians 2:12 (NIV)
The enemy has not missed the opportunity, though.
It often feels as if the biggest challenges—and I do not mean iron sharpening iron—of my faith come not from the devil or the world, but from other believers.
There are the obvious sources, such as the pastor I once worked for, who destroyed my trust in pastoral leadership, or the Christian men who were the most difficult bosses or landlords to deal with. These kinds of moments are destructive, but obvious. It’s the subtle ways that grind down gently and slowly and introduce confusion; good people who hurt you slowly and with best intentions are confusing.
“I’m just not a good enough Christian to hang around them,” I told a friend recently. It’s something I’ve said often, and it’s a strange, sad statement I know shouldn’t leave my lips.
Have you ever met sincere believers who have some theological quirk, preference, or insistence that made you aware you weren’t up to their standards?
Bible translations.1 Worship music styles and sources. Articles, videos, or books by someone on someone’s discernment blacklist, or someone who is associated with someone on a blacklist. Theological disagreements that aren’t about core Christian beliefs.
I thought I’d come across it all, but no.
Recently, in yet another attempt to find a church, I found myself in a group of people who only say YHWH, not God or Lord, even when they are reading out of the New Testament. In one hour, I heard YHWH more times than in my entire life, and I felt wildly uncomfortable. I’ve been around people who will only say Yeshua, not Jesus, and gently correct or rephrase what you’ve said using that Hebrew name. I’ve seen people argue over which of the Trinity—Father, Son, or Holy Spirit—you should pray to.
Am I reading the wrong Bible? Am I damned or at risk because I was spiritually encouraged by a teacher, book, or singer on a list somewhere? Have I been praying to God the wrong way my whole life? Is the way I read and study the Bible incorrect? What are the rules, and how can I keep track of all of them, and whose rules, and how do I know which ones are right?
It’s a question of how I can be good enough for people, but that’s the wrong question entirely. The exercise of extending grace to Christians I don’t agree with is a difficult one to practice in a world where we easily announce our lines in the sand and then cover them with scripture to suggest that if the lines create conflict, that’s what itching ears would say.
The polarization of our culture isn’t just political; it’s now a way of daily life. We’re all loaded for bear and ready to argue and defend our individual castles against any invader. Valid, if it’s valid. Destructive, if it’s not. Well-defended castles are very similar to prisons.
Which is why, in recent years, Galatians is my favorite book of the Bible. In my teens and college years, it was Ecclesiastes; life was dramatic for me then. Now, it is Galatians.
The Scriptures are truly our foundation, and when confusion is coming not only from the world, but from the church, all I can do is go back to that. Having simple faith is incredibly complicated and scary in this world where we’re all card-carrying members of some kind of creed. All I can do is trust that God knows my heart, knows me, and will help me understand what I’m reading; I can step out in faith even if Holy Joe next to me scolds and says I’m doing it wrong.
And that’s why I love Galatians.
This is a world and a church with so many people and ideas. So many Christians have a personal theology that might not be unbiblical, but reflects cultural or personal convictions they confuse with Biblical convictions. Some are so confident in what they think they know, even though we are told we are looking through cloudy glass and can’t know all mysteries. Some insist on their conviction so much that it’s equated with required, a kind of works or rules-based system in which true followers of Jesus are defined by these characteristics.
I can’t be good enough, by someone else’s standards and understanding, to be the Christian they think I should be, and Galatians is where I run to when I feel like I’m failing for not checking someone else’s boxes.
It’s a reminder that Jesus wasn’t good enough; he was perfect, and he finished it all on the cross so I could rest in Him. Faith in Christ is the main box to be checked; the rest of the work is done by and through him. It’s where I go if I need to be reminded that Jesus’ yoke is not a heavy burden, and that there is freedom in Christ.
So we’re going to focus on Galatians for a while.
Tiff Shuttlesworth does a pretty good rundown on Bible translations that is reasonable without veering into extremes, in my opinion. However, you may not agree with him; take that up with God and listen honestly to the Holy Spirit’s direction.