Commentary on Galatians
Galatians, chapter 6
Galatians 6
“Brothers and sisters, even if someone is overtaken in any trespass.”
They were indulging their private feelings under cover of rebuking others, and while claiming to act against faults that had been committed, they were serving their own ambition. That is why he says, “Brothers and sisters, if someone is overtaken.” He did not say, “if someone commits,” but, “if he is overtaken”; that is, if he is carried away.
“You who are spiritual, restore such a one.”
He does not say “punish” or “judge,” but “set right.” Nor does he stop there. To show that they ought to be very gentle toward those who had lost their footing, he adds, “in a spirit of gentleness.”
He does not say, “in gentleness,” but, “in a spirit of gentleness,” showing by this that such conduct is pleasing to the Spirit, and that to be able to correct others mildly is a spiritual gift. Then, so that the one who has to correct the other would not be unduly lifted up by it, he puts him under the same fear, saying, “Looking to yourself, so that you too are not tempted.”
Rich people give contributions to the needy so that, if they themselves should ever fall into poverty, they may receive the same generosity; and we ought to do the same. That is why he gives this compelling reason, in these words: “looking to yourself, so that you too are not tempted.” He pleads for the offender, first, by saying, “if you are overtaken”; next, by using a word that suggests great weakness; and lastly, by the words, “so that you too are not tempted.” In this way he lays the blame on the malice of the devil rather than on the slackness of the soul.
Verse 2: “Bear one another’s burdens.”
Since it is impossible for a human being to be without failings, he urges them not to examine the offenses of others severely, but even to bear with their failings, so that their own may in turn be borne by others. In the building of a house, not all the stones hold the same position: one is fitted for a corner but not for the foundations, another for the foundations but not for the corner. So it is in the body of the church too. The same holds in the frame of our own flesh. Yet one member bears with another, and we do not require everything from each; what each contributes to the whole makes up both the body and the building.
Verse 2: “And so fulfill the law of Christ.”
He does not say “fulfill,” but “complete”; that is, make it up, all of you together, by the things in which you bear with one another. For example, this man is quick-tempered, and you are sluggish. So bear with his hot temper, so that he in turn may bear with your sluggishness. In this way he will not go wrong, because you support him, and you will not stumble where your own defects lie, because your brother is patient with you. So you, reaching out a hand to one another when you are about to fall, fulfill the law together, each making up what his neighbor lacks by his own endurance.
But if you do not do this, and each of you investigates his neighbor’s faults, nothing will ever be done by you as it ought to be. In the body, if someone demanded the same function from every member, the body could never hold together; in the same way there must be great strife among brothers and sisters if we require everything from everyone.
Verse 3: “For if anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself.”
Here again he strikes at their arrogance. The one who thinks himself something is nothing, and by that very attitude he gives proof of his worthlessness from the start.
Verse 4: “But let each one test his own work.”
Here he shows that we ought to examine our lives closely, and not lightly either, but weighing our actions carefully. For example, if you have done a good deed, consider whether it was not done out of empty glory, or under compulsion, or from ill will, or with hypocrisy, or from some other human motive. Gold looks bright before it goes into the furnace; but once it is put in the fire it is tested thoroughly, and all that is false is separated from what is genuine. In the same way our works, if examined closely, will be shown plainly for what they are, and we will see that we have left ourselves open to a great deal of blame.
Verse 4: “And then he will have reason to boast in regard to himself alone, and not in regard to his neighbor.”
He says this not as laying down a rule, but by way of concession. His meaning is this: “Boasting is senseless. But if you must boast, do not boast against your neighbor, as the Pharisee did.” For the person trained this way will soon give up boasting altogether. That is why he concedes a part, so that he may gradually root out the whole. Whoever is used to boasting with reference to himself alone, and not against others, will soon correct this failing too. For the one who does not consider himself better than others (this is the meaning of “not in regard to his neighbor”), but is puffed up by examining himself by himself, will afterward stop being so.
And so that you may be sure this is what he wants to establish, notice how he checks him with fear. Above he said, “let each one test his own work,” and here he adds, Verse 5: “For each one will bear his own burden.”
He seems to be giving a reason against boasting over another. But at the same time he corrects the boaster, so that he will no longer think highly of himself, by bringing his own errors to his mind and pressing on his conscience the idea of a burden, and of being heavily loaded.
Verse 6: “But let the one who is taught the word share with the one who teaches, in all good things.”
Here he goes on to speak about teachers: that their disciples ought to look after them with great care. Now why did Christ command it so? For this law, “that those who preach the good news should live by the good news” (First Corinthians 9, verse 14), is laid down in the New Testament; and in the Old as well (Numbers 31, verse 47, and Numbers 35, verses 1 to 8), many revenues came to the Levites from the people. Why, I ask, did he ordain it so? Was it not to lay a foundation in advance for humility and love?
The dignity of a teacher often puffs up the one who holds it. So, to curb his spirit, he has laid on him the necessity of needing help from his disciples. And to the disciples in turn he has given the means of growing in kindness, training them, through the kindness required of them toward their teacher, to be gentle toward others too. In this way no small affection grows up on both sides. If the reason were not the one I have given, why would he who fed the dull-minded Jews with manna have reduced the apostles to the necessity of asking for help? Is it not plain that he was aiming at the great benefits of humility and love, and that those being taught should not be ashamed of teachers who looked contemptible? To ask for help looks like a disgrace. But it stopped being one when their teachers pressed their claim with all boldness, so that their disciples gained no small benefit from it, being taught by it to despise all appearances.
That is why he says, “But let the one who is taught the word share with the one who teaches, in all good things”; that is, let him show him every generosity. This is what he means by the words, “in all good things.” “Let the disciple keep nothing back for himself, but hold everything in common with him.” For what he receives is better than what he gives, as much better as heavenly things are than earthly ones. He says this in another place: “If we sowed spiritual things among you, is it a great thing if we reap your material things?” (First Corinthians 9, verse 11). That is why he calls the practice a “sharing,” showing that an exchange takes place. By this, too, love is greatly fostered and made firm.
If the teacher asks only for what is enough to live on, he does not lower his own dignity by receiving it. For this is praiseworthy: to devote oneself to the word so earnestly as to need the help of others, to live in every kind of poverty, and to give no thought to any means of living. But if he goes beyond the proper measure, he damages his dignity, not by receiving, but by receiving too much. Then, so that a teacher’s fault would not make the disciple slacker in this matter, and lead him often to pass his teacher by because of his conduct, even when he was poor, he goes on to say, Verse 9: “And let us not grow weary in doing good.”
And here he points out the difference between ambition of this kind and ambition in the affairs of this life, by saying, “Do not be deceived; God is not mocked. For whatever a person sows, that is what he will also reap. For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption; but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life.”
It is as with seeds: someone who sows beans cannot reap grain, for what is sown and what is reaped must be of one kind. So it is with actions. The one who plants loose living, drunkenness or unruly craving in the flesh will reap the fruits of these things. And what are these fruits? Punishment, retribution, shame, mockery, destruction. For the end of lavish tables and rich dishes is nothing but destruction: they perish themselves, and they destroy the body too.
But the fruit of the Spirit is not like these; it is the opposite of them in every way. Just consider. Have you sown almsgiving? The treasures of heaven and eternal glory await you. Have you sown self-control? Honor and reward, the applause of angels, and a crown from the Judge await you.
Verses 9 and 10: “And let us not grow weary in doing good; for in due season we will reap, if we do not lose heart. So then, as we have opportunity, let us work what is good toward all people, and especially toward those who are of the household of faith.”
So that no one would suppose that their teachers were to be cared for and supported while others could be neglected, he makes his teaching general and opens the door of this zeal for almsgiving to everyone. In fact he carries it so far as to command us to show mercy to Jews and Greeks alike: in proper order, indeed, but still to show mercy. And what is this order? It consists in giving greater care to the faithful. His aim here is the same as in his other letters. He speaks not merely of showing mercy, but of doing it with zeal and perseverance, for the words “sowing” and “not losing heart” imply this.
Then, having demanded a great work, he puts its reward close at hand and speaks of a new and wonderful harvest. Among farmers, not only the sower but the reaper too endures much labor, having to struggle with drought and dust and hard toil. But here there is nothing of that, as he shows by the words, “for in due season we will reap, if we do not lose heart.” By this he spurs them on and draws them forward; and he urges and presses them on by another motive too, saying, “So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good.” As it is not always in our power to sow, so neither is it always in our power to show mercy. For once we have been taken away from here, even if we want it a thousand times, we will not be able to do anything more.
The ten virgins bear witness to this argument of ours (Matthew 25, verse 1 and following). Though they wanted it a thousand times over, they were shut out from the bridegroom, because they brought no generous almsgiving with them. So does the rich man who neglected Lazarus (Luke 16, verse 19). Lacking this help, though he wept and pleaded again and again, he won no compassion from the patriarch or from anyone else, but remained without any forgiveness, tormented in unending fire.
That is why he says, “as we have opportunity, let us work what is good toward all people,” and by this he especially sets them free from the narrow-mindedness of the Jews. For all their goodwill was confined to their own race; but the way of life that grace gives invites land and sea alike to its table of almsgiving, only it shows greater care for its own household.
Verses 11 and 12: “See with what large letters I have written to you with my own hand. As many as want to make a good showing in the flesh, they compel you to be circumcised.”
See what grief grips his blessed soul! People weighed down by some sorrow, who have lost one of their own family or suffered an unexpected disaster, rest neither night nor day, because grief lays siege to their soul. So too the blessed Paul, after a short moral teaching, returns again to the subject that troubled his mind most, saying, “See with what large letters I have written to you with my own hand.” By this he shows that he had written the whole letter himself, which was a proof of great sincerity. In his other letters he only dictated, and someone else did the writing, as is plain from the letter to the Romans; at its close it says, “I, Tertius, who wrote this letter, greet you” (Romans 16, verse 22). But here he wrote the whole thing himself.
And he did this out of necessity, not simply out of affection, but to remove a damaging suspicion. He was being charged with things he had no part in, and was reported to preach circumcision while pretending not to preach it. So he was compelled to write the letter with his own hand, laying up a written testimony in advance. By the words “what large” he seems to me to mean, not the size of the letters, but their clumsy shape, as if he had said: “Although I am not skilled at writing, I have been compelled to write with my own hand, to stop the mouths of these slanderers.”
Verses 12 and 13: “As many as want to make a good showing in the flesh, they compel you to be circumcised, only so that they will not be persecuted for the cross of Christ. For not even those who receive circumcision keep the law themselves; but they want to have you circumcised so that they may boast in your flesh.”
Here he shows that they underwent this not willingly but under compulsion, and he gives them a way to retreat, almost speaking in their defense, and urging them to leave their teachers as quickly as they can. What does “to make a good showing in the flesh” mean? It means to be well thought of by people. Those teachers were being abused by the Jews for abandoning the customs of their fathers; and so, he says, “they want to harm you, so that this will not be charged against them, and so that they may clear themselves by means of your flesh.”
His aim here is to show that they did not act this way out of reverence for God. It is as if he said: “This course is not grounded in godliness. All this is done out of human ambition. So that the unbelievers may be pleased by the mutilation of the faithful, they choose to offend God in order to please people.” For this is the meaning of “to make a good showing in the flesh.”
Then, to prove that they are inexcusable for another reason too, he shows again that they had imposed this not only to please others, but for their own empty glory. That is why he adds, “so that they may boast in your flesh,” as though they had disciples and were teachers. And what is the proof of this? “For not even they themselves,” he says, “keep the law.” Even if they did keep it, they would deserve serious blame; but as it is, their very purpose is corrupt.
The Boast of the Cross
Verse 14: “But far be it from me to boast, except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
This sign is indeed thought contemptible, but only in the world’s reckoning and among men; in heaven and among the faithful it is the highest glory. Poverty too is thought contemptible, but it is our boast. To be held cheap by the public is something they laugh at, but we are lifted up by it. So too the cross is our boast. He does not say, “I do not boast,” or, “I will not boast,” but, “Far be it from me that I should,” as though he abhorred it as absurd and called on God’s help to succeed in it.
And what is the boast of the cross? That Christ for my sake took on the form of a slave, and bore his sufferings for me: the slave, the enemy, the one without feeling. Yes, he loved me so much that he gave himself up to a curse for me. What can compare with this? If servants who merely receive praise from their masters, who share the same nature with them, are lifted up by it, how can we not boast, when the Master, who is truly God, is not ashamed of the cross that was endured for us?
So let us not be ashamed of his tender love, which is beyond words. He was not ashamed of being crucified for your sake; and will you be ashamed to confess his boundless care for you? It is as if a prisoner, who had not been ashamed of his king before, should become ashamed of him for this very reason: that the king had come to the prison and loosed the chains himself. That would be the height of madness, for this very fact would be the greatest ground for boasting.
Verse 14: “Through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.”
What he calls the world here is not the heavens or the earth, but the affairs of life: the praise of people, trains of attendants, glory, wealth, and everything that has a show of splendor. To me these things are dead. That is the kind of person a Christian ought to be, and this is the language he should always use. Nor was he content with the first putting to death; he added another, saying, “and I to the world.” So he implies a double putting to death, and says: “They are dead to me, and I to them. They cannot captivate and overcome me, for they are dead once for all; nor can I desire them, for I too am dead to them.” Nothing can be more blessed than this putting to death, for it is the foundation of the blessed life.
Verses 15 and 16: “For neither is circumcision anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation. And as many as will walk by this rule, peace be on them, and mercy, and on the Israel of God.”
See the power of the cross, and to what a height it has raised him! Not only has it put to death for him all the affairs of this world; it has set him far above the old covenant. What can compare with this power? The cross has persuaded him, the man who was willing to be killed and to kill others for the sake of circumcision, to put it on a level with uncircumcision, and to seek things strange and wonderful and above the heavens.
This way of life of ours he calls “a new creation,” both because of what is past and because of what is to come. Because of what is past: our soul, which had grown old with the oldness of sin, has been renewed all at once by baptism, as if it had been created again. That is why we need a new and heavenly way of life. And because of what is to come: the heavens and the earth and the whole creation will, together with our bodies, be changed into a state that cannot decay.
So, he says, “do not talk to me about circumcision, which now counts for nothing (for how could it even be seen, when everything has undergone such a change?), but seek the new things of grace.” For those who pursue these things will enjoy peace and friendship, and may rightly be called by the name of “Israel.” But those who hold the opposite views, even though they are descended from Israel and bear his name, have fallen away from all these things, both the relationship and the name itself. The ones who can be true Israelites are those who keep this rule, who give up the old ways and follow after grace.
Verse 17: “From now on let no one trouble me.”
He does not say this as though he were worn out or beaten. This is the man who chose to do and suffer everything for his disciples’ sake; the man who said, “Be ready in season and out of season” (Second Timothy 4, verse 2); the man who said, “If perhaps God may give them repentance leading to the knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape the snare of the devil” (Second Timothy 2, verses 25 and 26). How would he now grow slack and fall back? Why, then, does he say it? To rouse their sluggish minds, to strike deeper fear into them, to confirm the laws he himself had laid down, and to put a stop to their constant wavering.
Verse 17: “For I bear branded on my body the marks of Jesus.”
He does not say, “I have,” but, “I bear,” like a man who takes pride in trophies and royal standards. Although, when you think it over, it might seem a disgrace, this man glories in his wounds; and like the standard-bearers of an army, he exults in carrying these wounds about. And why does he say this?
“More clearly by these wounds than by any argument, than by any words, do I defend myself,” he says. “For these wounds speak with a voice louder than a trumpet against my opponents, and against those who say that I play the hypocrite in my teaching and say what will please people. No one who saw a soldier coming back from the battle soaked in blood and covered with a thousand wounds would dare to accuse him of cowardice and treachery, since he carries on his body the proofs of his courage. And that is how you ought to judge me,” he says. “And if anyone wants to hear my defense and learn what I think, let him look at my wounds. They give a stronger proof than these words and letters.”
At the beginning of his letter he showed his sincerity by the suddenness of his conversion; at its close he proves it by the dangers that came with his conversion. So that no one could object that he had indeed changed his course with honest intentions, but had not kept to the same purpose, he brings forward his trials, his dangers and his floggings as witnesses that he had kept to it. Then, having fully defended himself on every point, and having proved that he had said nothing out of anger or ill will, but had kept his affection for them unimpaired, he establishes this same point once more by ending what he had to say with a prayer full of a thousand blessings, in these words:
Verse 18: “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit, brothers and sisters. Amen.”
With this last word he has set a seal on everything that came before it. He does not say simply, “with you,” as he does elsewhere, but, “with your spirit.” In this way he draws them away from the things of the flesh, shows the kindness of God throughout, and reminds them of the grace they had received, by which he was able to call them back from all their errors in turning to Jewish ways. For receiving the Spirit did not come from the poverty of the law, but from the righteousness that comes by faith; and keeping the Spirit once received did not come from circumcision, but from grace.
That is why he ended his exhortation with a prayer, reminding them of grace and of the Spirit, and at the same time calling them brothers and sisters, and asking God that they might go on enjoying these blessings. So he gave them a twofold security. For prayer and teaching both aimed at the same thing, and together they became a double wall for them. Teaching, by reminding them of the benefits they enjoyed, kept them all the more firmly in the doctrine of the church; and prayer, calling down grace and urging them to endure steadfastly, did not let the Spirit leave them. And while he remained in them, all the error of the doctrines they had held was shaken off like dust.