← Contents Galatians 2:1–10

Galatians 2:1–10

FOURTEEN YEARS LATER I went up again to Jerusalem, this time with Barnabas. I took Titus along also. 2I went in response to a revelation and set before them the gospel that I preach among the Gentiles. But I did this privately to those who seemed to be leaders, for fear that I was running or had run my race in vain. 3Yet not even Titus, who was with me, was compelled to be circumcised, even though he was a Greek. 4[This matter arose] because some false brothers had infiltrated our ranks to spy on the freedom we have in Christ Jesus and to make us slaves. 5We did not give in to them for a moment, so that the truth of the gospel might remain with you.

6As for those who seemed to be important—whatever they were makes no difference to me; God does not judge by external appearance—those men added nothing to my message. 7On the contrary, they saw that I had been entrusted with the task of preaching the gospel to the Gentiles, just as Peter had been to the Jews. 8For God, who was at work in the ministry of Peter as an apostle to the Jews, was also at work in my ministry as an apostle to the Gentiles. 9James, Peter and John, those reputed to be pillars, gave me and Barnabas the right hand of fellowship when they recognized the grace given to me. They agreed that we should go to the Gentiles, and they to the Jews. 10All they asked was that we should continue to remember the poor, the very thing I was eager to do.

Original Meaning

IN ORDER TO demonstrate that his gospel was a direct revelation from Jesus Christ, Paul has tried to show that his gospel was not dependent on human teaching (1:13–17) or on the Judean churches (1:18–24). The next link in his argument (2:1–10) is his demonstration that his gospel was independent even of the Jerusalem pillars. He proceeds in 2:11–21 to clinch the argument for independence by showing that he did not get his gospel from Peter, the arch-apostle.

In Paul’s autobiography the next important link with Jerusalem came “fourteen years later” (2:1).1 This visit produced a major interchange between a more Jewish-nationalistic gospel and a more Jewish-and-Gentile-universalistic gospel. Paul spearheaded the latter and (apparently) the pillar apostles the former. The sides came, according to Paul, to a consensus: that Paul was called to preach what he preached and was called to do so to the Gentiles, and that Peter was called to preach what he preached and was called to do so to the Jews. However, by all appearances “what” each preached was the same; the differences came over “to whom.”

The first unit in our section is concerned with Paul’s presentation of his message (vv. 1–3). Fourteen years after his conversion Paul made a second trip to the holy city;2 he took two of his friends with him: Barnabas and Titus. Barnabas, originally named Joseph, was a Levite who grew up in Cyprus. As a result of his ministries the apostles named him “Son of Encouragement,”3 i.e., Barnabas (Acts 4:36). We later learn that he was the “cousin” of John Mark (Col. 4:10). His obedience (Acts 4:36–37), reconciling manner, and encouraging temperament (9:26–30), along with his dependence on the Holy Spirit, earned him a prominent ministry alongside Paul (cf. 11:22–26). If the order of names says something, it seems likely that Barnabas held the early lead in his ministry with Paul, but that leadership was eventually surrendered to Paul’s apostolic gifts (cf. 13:1–15:41; but see also 14:14; 15:12, 25). Paul had two known disagreements with Barnabas: (1) over Peter at Antioch (Gal. 2:11–21) and (2) over John Mark at the beginning of his second missionary journey (Acts 15:39–40). It is more than likely that their breach was healed since later Paul ranks Barnabas as an equal minister (1 Cor. 9:6). Barnabas accompanied Paul to Jerusalem in Galatians 2:1 because he was a significant and respected person with the Jerusalem churches. His track record of healing discord and arbitrating between factions made him a suitable companion.

The second travel companion of Paul was Titus. While we may be unsure why Titus accompanied Paul and Barnabas, his distinctive trait (and the reason he is mentioned at all) is that he was a Gentile. It is possible that Paul brought Titus, likely one of his early converts (cf. Titus 1:4) and a continual friend (2 Cor. 2:13), as a “test case,” in which case Titus would have had unmistakable and unimpeachable Christian character while at the same time being a Gentile.4 This would force the Jewish believers of Jerusalem to admit that God was as much at work among, and through, Gentiles as Jews. Furthermore, that he was clearly chosen of God would force the situation of his not being circumcised to arise. Paul’s argument could not be clearer: if God had chosen and was using this uncircumcised Gentile, then certainly circumcision was not required to join the people of God.5 Two verses later we learn that even though Titus was Greek, he was not “compelled”6 to be circumcised. The import of Titus then is obvious: on Paul’s second visit to Jerusalem the leaders had every opportunity to press the issue of circumcision if such were required for membership in the people of God. But they did not. Paul’s argument has a decisive factor: since the “pillars” of Jerusalem did not demand Titus’s circumcision, it can be assumed that they did not think circumcision was necessary for salvation. It can also be assumed that they did not think joining Judaism was necessary; Gentiles could simply turn to Jesus for their salvation by trusting in him.

Paul’s argument against the Judaizers from this incident has a further proof: when he was in Jerusalem he met “privately” with the leaders (probably the pillars of vv. 6, 9) and “set before them the gospel” that he preached to the Gentiles. This gospel was surely the salvation of people through the work of Christ by simply trusting in God’s grace in Christ. His gospel did not demand adopting the Jewish way of life and did not include submission to the law. Paul even states that he did this humbly: “for fear that I was running or had run my race in vain” (v. 3). This was a grand concession on Paul’s part. However confident he was in the revelation that he thought was from Jesus Christ, he was still willing to submit his revelation to the evaluation of the leaders of Jerusalem. I believe Paul was being honest here and not playing rhetorical games. Furthermore, this gave Paul an even deeper argument (essentially the argument of vv. 1–10): his gospel was both independent of, and confirmed by, Jerusalem. This gave the Judaizers and the Galatians no way out.7

The second unit is concerned with the opposition to Paul’s message (vv. 4–5). “This matter [i.e., the matter pertaining to circumcision] arose” because some of the Judaizers, whom Paul here calls “false brothers,” were seeking to infiltrate the ranks of those who were free in order to spread their Moses-based gospel. Their intent was “to make us slaves.” This must be understood as living under the law of Moses alongside the grace in Christ and without the freedom of the Spirit (3:10–14, 23–25), with grace and freedom thus being effectively eliminated. It is adolescence in comparison to liberating sonship and maturity, as Paul describes it at 3:26–4:7. Paul argues that the experience he and the Galatians were presently having with the Judaizers was identical to the one he had either in Jerusalem during his second visit to the city or in Antioch at an earlier date.8 A gospel combining Jesus with Moses was being imposed on those who had converted to a simple faith in Jesus Christ. In light of Paul’s comments in 1:6–9, we should not be surprised that Paul calls them “false brothers.” This is the heresy Paul confronts: a “gospel” that minimizes the work of Christ and undermines the ministry of the Spirit.

Paul’s response to the infiltrators is the theme of the entire letter: “We did not give in to them for a moment, so that the truth of the gospel might remain with you” (v. 5). At 5:1 he chooses different words: “Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.” After encountering Christ, and in contrast to the liberation found in the Spirit of Christ, Paul describes life under the law (apart from Christ) as a life of slavery.

Paul’s intent was “so that the truth of the gospel might remain with you.” His motivation was not personal and individualistic, though he undoubtedly benefited personally from the gospel of Christ. He was not seeking to preserve some maverick status or some rebel reputation. Rather, he knew the implication of imposing the law on the new converts and he wanted to distance his gospel from Moses. He wanted to be sure that these new converts enjoyed the joy (and thrill) of the fullness of times (4:4). Paul himself could live in both worlds, sometimes assuming the law and other times not. But he knew that any drift on his part toward a gospel linked inevitably with the law would mean death to the new churches. It would mean nationalization. It would mean joining Judaism as any other convert to Judaism had done. It would not mean life in Christ. And so Paul continues the narrative with the important evidence for his case.

The third unit is concerned with the unity expressed by the Jerusalem pillars and Paul over Paul’s message (vv. 6–10). Paul’s contacts with Jerusalem may have been few and his interchanges brief. But, one thing is clear: the leaders of Jerusalem endorsed his gospel. Here we get to the nub of a problem: if Paul was so intent in chapter 1 to argue for the independence of his gospel, why is he so intent here on showing that his gospel was endorsed? Does this not undermine his earlier argument? Does this not make him vulnerable once again to the charge that his gospel, after all, did come from Jerusalem?

I think not. Rather, what we are seeing here is Paul’s willingness to use both sides of an argument for his own case. In chapter 1 Paul argued that the source of his gospel was independent of Jerusalem. He got his gospel directly from Jesus Christ. Therefore, the Judaizers could not argue that he had to submit everything to Jerusalem. In chapter 2, however, he argues that while his gospel was independent in source, it was also endorsed by the Jerusalem pillars. That endorsement, for Paul, was not necessary, but as long as it worked out that way, he decides to use that endorsement as part of his case against the Judaizers.

As we seek to unravel the meaning of verses 6–10, it is important for us to figure out who the primary leaders were. Paul describes the leaders, and he is probably not referring to more than one group, as “those who seemed to be important” (v. 6), “those reputed to be pillars” (v. 9), and “James, Peter and John” (v. 9). It is most likely that this group is the same as the group in verse 2 (“those who seemed to be leaders”).9 Paul’s gospel was now facing a crucial test: how did those whom everyone respected as authoritative in Jerusalem respond to it?

First, they “added nothing to my message” (v. 6). The “added nothing” clearly means they did not think Paul’s message was an abbreviated one, one designed to make the gospel more attractive to Gentiles. They did not think that Moses needed to be studied and obeyed in order to be a “full member” of the church, and they did not think such things as boundary markers needed to be imposed (like circumcision and food laws). They must then have thought that the message of Paul was the message of Peter and the other leaders, for his message had been accepted as Christ’s message. Later in this chapter Paul describes an event during which he may well have used the logic of the agreement described here: if you earlier agreed with my message (vv. 6–9), you must now also agree (so do not demand table laws; vv. 11–21). To be sure, the leaders at Jerusalem probably had some hesitations about some of the ways the message was applying out in the Diaspora. Some of the major leaders no doubt would have preferred a more Jewish-looking community. However much they had some (social) hesitations, they were confident enough in the power of the gospel and the Holy Spirit to permit Paul’s gospel to work itself out as it made an impact in the Gentile world.

Second, they officially recognized Paul’s special calling (vv. 8–10). What these pillars perceived was that God had separate callings for Paul and Peter. They did not contend that each had a separate gospel but that each had a separate target for ministry: Paul with the uncomfortable, potentially disturbing, ministry of opening the rest of the world to the message of Christ and Peter with the more comfortable, home-missions ministry with all its social problems. Crucial in this decision was the conviction that “God … was also at work in my [Paul’s] ministry” (v. 8).

To make it official, “James,10 Peter and John … gave me and Barnabas the right hand of fellowship when they recognized the grace given to me” (v. 9). This is more than a Western “handshake.” The “right hand of fellowship” was an official agreement between Paul (and his companions) and the Jerusalem pillars (James, Peter, and John).11 They verbally, theologically, and now publicly agreed with Paul’s message (it was pure and truthful) and his sphere of ministry (the Gentile world). They publicly announced that they thought God had called Paul to this very task. It could be profitably compared today to an ordination committee’s endorsement of a candidate after lengthy questioning and discussion. Astute committees (then and now) can quickly get to the heart of the issues to determine whether a given candidate is orthodox or not. The endorsement by the “pillars” was genuine, and Paul was introduced as one who preached the gospel of Jesus Christ faithfully and accurately.

Third, “the pillars” simply encouraged Paul to remember his roots by working strenuously for the relief of the poor (v. 10). In giving Paul their endorsement, they also encouraged him to keep the communication lines with Jerusalem open by spending energies on behalf of the poor saints in Jerusalem. This additional item is the only thing they asked of Paul. Just as Paul had remembered the poor already,12 so he would spend a great portion of his ministry collecting gifts from the Diaspora for the mother church in Jerusalem (cf. 1 Cor. 16:1–4; 2 Cor. 8–9; Rom. 15:27–29; Acts 20:16, 22; 24:17). The causes of poverty in Judea were probably numerous and mixed: overburden at the hands of increasing widows (cf. Acts 6:1–7), the early community’s experiment with a community of goods (perhaps bringing with it some excesses), bad harvests, and persecutions that entailed financial stress. In any case, there was poverty, and Paul saw it as part of his ministry to help bring relief. To be sure, part of Paul’s motivations were compassion, but we may also suggest that his drive is partly to be explained by his desire to demonstrate to Judea that his gospel and his churches were one with the gospel and churches of Judea. In other words, his apostolic calling was tied into his collection for the poor.

To summarize: Paul’s second visit to Jerusalem resulted in an authoritative endorsement of both his message and his calling to the Gentiles. What at first sight appears to be largely arcane to us, on more careful inspection generates several applications for our world today.

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A Note on the Relationship of Acts to Galatians and Paul’s Visits to Jerusalem. The issue of the relationship of Galatians 2:1–10 to Acts 15 is of significance for (1) reconstructing earliest Christian history, (2) interpreting both Galatians 2 and Acts 15 (with respect to having finer details for our interpretations), and (3) assessing the historical reliability of each of the books. While by no means a necessary conclusion, many of those who have adopted a direct parallel between Acts 15 and Galatians 2 also contend that the book of Acts is not always reliable in its presentation of history.13 In other words, even if the conclusions we draw are not directly relevant for applying the Bible, they become fundamentally significant for the authority of the Bible and for reconstructing earliest Christian history. The issue then is worthy of serious reflection by readers of the Bible.

According to a widely adopted hypothesis, assumed in this commentary, there are five recorded visits of Paul to Jerusalem after his conversion. A table presents this clearly.14 I suggest that readers go through each of the references carefully and then fill in even more details from the passages until a full appreciation of the evidence is achieved.

Point of Departure

Date

Acts References

Parallels

Purposes

Damascus

35

9:22–30

Gal. 1:18–24

Interview Peter

Antioch of Syria

46

11:30; 12:25

Gal 2:1–3, 6–10

Relief for poor, Gentile issues

Antioch of Syria

49

14:26–15:29

Gentile conversion

Corinth

52

18:1, 18, 22

Attend Passover, Relief for poor

Greece

57

20:2–3; 21:17ff.; Rom 15:25–31

Deliver relief

That Galatians 2:1–10 corresponds, not to Acts 15, but to Acts 11:30; 12:25 deserves some explanation. We can chart the characters involved, the events, and the purpose of each visit to facilitate comparison. Again, I recommend that Bible students read through each passage to gain a fuller understanding of the issues and solutions.

Gal 2:1–10

Acts 9:26–30

Acts 11:30; 12:25

Acts 15

CHARACTERS

Paul

Paul

Paul

Paul

Barnabas

Barnabas

Barnabas

Barnabas

Judaizers

Judaizers

Pillars

?

?

Pillars-Elders

Titus

EVENTS

Revelation

(Revelation?)15

Sent [by revelation?]16

Circumcision

Circumcision

Opposition

Opposition

Relief for poor

Barnabas persuades

Relief for poor

Paul confirmed

Return to Antioch

Paul off to Tarsus

Return to Antioch

Council’s decision

PURPOSE

Explain message

Fellowship

Relief for poor

Circumcision issue

Relief for poor

While there are clearly resemblances between Acts 15 and Galatians 2:1–10, there are some noticeable differences between this two passages. (1) Acts 15 is a public gathering, whereas Galatians 2 is private in nature and Acts 11:30; 12:25 mentions nothing public. (2) The chronology of Galatians 2:1 fits more with Acts 11:30; 12:25 than with Acts 15 in that Galatians 2:1 mentions “fourteen years later”; Acts 15 would seem to be sixteen or seventeen years after Paul’s conversion. (3) The omission of the council’s decision (Acts 15:22–29) is surely significant for understanding Galatians. It is far more likely that Paul does not mention it because it had not yet taken place than to suppose that Paul deliberately suppressed what would have been a major supporting argument! (4) If Galatians 2 corresponds to Acts 15, Paul would have had to have deliberately omitted a visit to Jerusalem—not only making his argument false, but putting his entire apologetic with the Judaizers at stake. It is far easier to believe that Paul mentioned every conceivable visit to Jerusalem than to think he deliberately omitted one. (5) The issue is the same in Galatians 2 and Acts 11:30; 12:25 (the relief for the poor) while the focus of Acts 15 is a theological debate on the manner of including Gentiles in the church. Finally, as for omissions in Acts 11:30; 12:25 of items mentioned in Galatians 2:1–10, we need simply to note that the Acts narrative at this point is extremely brief while Galatians 2 is considerably more complete; this makes omissions in Acts more than likely. So, even if the coincidences between Acts 15 and Galatians 2 are distinctive (and have led some scholars to opt for two descriptions of the same event), it is our considered judgment that Galatians 2 most likely corresponds to the visit mentioned by Luke in Acts 11:30 and 12:25. It was the second visit of Paul to Jerusalem and its purpose was the relief of the poor saints in Jerusalem.17

Bridging Contexts

REPETITION IS CRITICAL for communication, and Paul’s point here is the same as in chapter 1. When it comes to applications, therefore, we need not repeat our comments on the significance of Paul’s independence for our lives today. The reader may consult our “Bridging Contexts” and “Contemporary Significance” sections on 1:1–9 and 1:10–12. Once again, the key issue for application in this passage is the truthfulness of Paul’s gospel: justification is by faith in Christ, through the grace of God, for all—regardless of social standing, race, or economic status. Further direct applications are not hard to find here either, because some statements in texts lend themselves to simple and helpful applications. It is not difficult to apply Paul’s statement, “All that they asked was that we should continue to remember the poor …” (2:10)—regardless of whether Paul had primarily the Christian poor or the poor in general in mind. But there are other avenues for application here, and I shall suggest two.

A natural form of application presents itself here: even though the characters and precise events are different from ours (rarely do Christians today have problems with some group that seeks to impose circumcision!), what we do see is a typical sociological and theological crisis working itself out exclusively in religious dress. A group of Judaizing “Christians” were intent on sneaking in to spy out all the latest trends of the Pauline churches to find out if they were living according to the law of Moses. Their goal, of course, was to get these Gentile converts “fully converted” to a Judaistic and nationalistic perception of the gospel.

On our part, we can find simple (and sometimes disturbing) analogies to this sort of pattern in the Christian church today. Thus, it is wise for the teacher of this passage to analyze his or her church to see if there are social crises behind theological agendas and debates. An important issue, but one often surrounded by social and psychological reactions, is the final judgment. On the one hand, we have a crisis of truth in our world, and there is a consistent form of universalism or pluralism implicit in much of our culture. The concept of a final judgment over truth and over how one has lived in light of it seems impossible; thus, this doctrine is either toned down or denied. Furthermore, there are those who have had their best friends, their parents, and their children die without ever surrendering to Christ and who, because of these tragedies, refuse to accept the concept of a final judgment at face value.

Another issue concerns the Rapture (which we pretend to know much more about than we really can know). I have heard people over and over say that others can go through the Rapture but not them (because they are “pre-tribbers”). Behind this little statement, often said in jest, may be a lurking fear of persecution—which hardly justifies a theological viewpoint. What I am saying is this: sometimes our own theological agendas are shaped as much by personal and social factors as they are by a concern for the truth. The keen Christian is alert to the social world shaping the positions in vogue at any given time.

On the other hand, it is wise not to press the social element too hard, as if all debates were simply social stress. Otherwise, before long, we have done nothing but explain everything religious in social terms; religion becomes nothing but a projection, an ideology, or a myth that helps humans to cope with distressing realities. There was, of course, a social problem behind the Judaizers. But I do not want to suggest for a moment that there was no religious problem involved. Some, unfortunately, have argued in this way for the issues discussed in Galatians.18 But to explain earliest Jerusalem Christianity as an economical experiment in which the poor revolted against the wealthy and did so in religious categories simply won’t do.

Furthermore, to explain the Judaizers as the religious establishment and the churches of Paul as nothing but sectaries who find theology to legitimate their own existence will not do either. What we need is balance, and that balance is found when the reader notices social factors that are working in and through religious factors. The balanced interpreter learns quickly that, in reality, theology and social factors cannot be separated: all theology expresses itself socially and social factors influence our theology.19

We also need to remember that analogies between the social crises behind Galatians and the social crises behind our theological problems eventually break down. What we need to do is find similarities at the central core and then find theological variations that have some social motivations. We also need to be careful in applying this text not to think that the difference was simply social. Social it was, but the social imposition by the Judaizers had so transformed the gospel itself that it was heresy. We are not seeking then simply social variations. We want to find social variations that are corrupting the gospel.

In the same vein, we can learn from the conflict in this situation and understand how it was that the early Christians were able to avoid a major rift within Christianity. What was at stake in this earliest of Christian debates was “denominationalism”—that is, the splitting of the church into two (socially and theologically based) segments, Jewish nationalistic and universalistic Christianity. How was this factionalism avoided? (1) The foundational churches in Jerusalem were not ignored or defaced by settling the matter out in the Diaspora. It was wise of the leaders of the churches in Antioch to send leaders to Jerusalem to get their perspective and wisdom on the issues. (2) Paul presented what he preached before the leaders to inform them and to gain their evaluation. Here we find the important principle of all conflicts: acquire the evidence before making judgments. (3) The evaluation of the Jerusalem pillars was based on the gospel of Christ, not on their own social conventions. (4) The leaders were able to agree because they recognized the work of God in each of the respective callings of Peter and Paul. (5) The leaders simply urged Paul (partly no doubt for social and political reasons) to remember the poor in Jerusalem as part of his ministry. In summary, therefore: recognize conflicts, acquire all the evidence, discern the matter theologically and socially, and come to a solution.

Does this procedure end all conflicts? Did it end the conflict in the early church? Certainly not. Read Acts 15 for the second chapter in the debate. But disagreements go a long way toward resolution if both sides live according to its wisdom. Unity in Christ and around the gospel, when recognized and lived out, can erase a lot of church conflicts.

I add, as a caution, that the procedure followed here is not a “cure-all” for all conflicts in our churches. We can learn from this conflict and its resolution, but that is all. To have a completely biblical view of “conflict management,” about which the Bible speaks mainly in indirect ways, we would need to analyze every conflict situation in the Bible and discern its resolution in its historical context. Far too frequently, in our hurry to apply the Bible, we take the principles we learn from one passage and then turn those principles into rigid rules that do not always work the way we want. It is better to retain a certain humility about our principles and applications. Some conflicts are better handled with direct confrontation (cf. 2:11–14) than with “private meetings” (2:1–5); others are best handled by public councils (Acts 15).

Contemporary Significance

ONE COULD EASILY find matters that are as much social as they are theological. Of course, whether the issue is primarily social or theological will depend on the case and, most likely, will be perceived by one group more theologically than the other (depending on which person or side you ask!). When we try to find an analogy between the Judaizers at Antioch and some imposing group in our world, we could easily discuss such analogies at length.

We take here one example: one’s choice of Christian music. I have heard over and over in the last ten years all kinds of discussions about “contemporary worship” styles. Is the “Willow Creek” model, the “high church” model, the Southern Baptist model, or the traditional evangelical model to be preferred? Voices have been raised for each, and the discussions that follow are interesting. I heard one esteemed gentleman recently say that he did not like “contemporary worship” because, in consuming all the time in church services with that sort of music, he was afraid his children would not learn the “old hymns.” I have heard some of the youth in our church (my daughter and son included) say they think “old hymns” are boring and slow and sound like funeral dirges. I have heard some Christians say that “Christian rock” is a contradiction in terms; yet I have heard others say that they became Christians because they became attracted to Christ through Christian rock music. I have heard others contend that Gregorian chants are the purest form of Christian music. Personally, I like the folk guitar and singing of Franciscan John Michael Talbot.

Is this debate simply theological and biblical? Certainly not. The issue here is partly social and partly theological. It is probably not to the point of what we see in the Galatian Judaizers. I do hope, however, that we can make applications in such a way that we see improvement before disaster takes place. I hope we do not have to let things get to the point of heresy before we see them as problems. What we find in the worship style and music issue of today is that at times one group imposes its desire on another group, in the name of theology, and the result is social and theological: social division and theological justification.

Socially speaking, we all love the familiar and we have learned to love it because that was what we were taught. If we have grown up on the “old hymns” (as I did), we probably have learned to love them. We have learned their tunes, tones, and words. We have been shaped theologically (and not always correctly) by their teachings. We learned to express our faith through singing these songs, and we learned to do so heartily. And it is also true, especially for our youth today and for those who have become Christians in the last decade or so, that many have not been reared on the “old hymns.” They do not know the old classics by heart, but they do know the songs in contemporary worship handbooks and the lyrics of songs on the many Christian music stations. They know Amy Grant and Michael W. Smith (my daughter’s favorites), not Isaac Watts, Fanny Crosby, and Charles Wesley (my generation’s favorites). Therefore, it is important for all of us to recognize that this fight over worship styles is partly sociological. At times I have peered around in our local church during the singing of what I think is a great old hymn, only to be disappointed with many who do not know the words, do not know the tune, do not like the tune, or do not like the song at all. What was deeply moving to me was a bore to them. How can this be? In part, I believe, it is social.

On the other hand, the issue is also partly theological. True enough, not all hymns are theologically sound. However, I would maintain that the vast majority of traditional Christian hymns20 are. And I am the first to say that much of contemporary singing is rooted in experience (“How happy I am”) rather than praise to God (“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty”).

It is when a major shift takes place, as we are seeing today, and when that shift moves away from praise and adoration, that we find social stresses in churches. This is not to say that all hymns are praiseworthy and that contemporary worship should thus be greatly reduced. Perhaps it is because I have a home with two kids who like contemporary (even Christian!) music that I have come to appreciate that music as well. What we need is discernment of this debate in contemporary Christianity. What we need to see is that some of the arguments for each are good: old hymns are, on average, more theologically penetrating than contemporary songs, while contemporary music is more musically satisfying to most of the people today. Contemporary music tends to focus too much on experiences, while old hymns tend to have tunes that are out of touch emotionally with many people today. I should note too that some of the arguments are not worthy of serious consideration: old hymns are useless because I cannot understand the words; old hymns have inferior music; contemporary songs are leading our youth astray; and contemporary musicians are unconverted rockers.

Like the Judaizers at Galatia, we may have in our churches, on this music debate, people who are trying to impose what they like (for both sociological and theological reasons) on others. We need to see how the churches at Galatia worked out such a problem to help us explore how to gain peace in this matter today. My suggestion is that the lesson at Galatia can be useful today: as they recognized separate callings but one gospel, we need to recognize that there are different kinds of praiseworthy music for different dimensions of our churches, but that there is one gospel that must be the heart of our singing and one God to whom we sing. We sing to God, through Christ, and in the Spirit—regardless of what and how we sing. Music that fosters those dimensions deserves respect.

What we need then is a social toleration of different styles (we can even call it “callings”), while we remain steadfast in our commitment to music that is theologically sound. I am suggesting that we need to see analogies in our churches to the situation at Galatia. Clearly, there was a situation there in which social differences (Jews versus Gentiles) were becoming theological agendas. And the theological agenda had become heretical in its attempt to impose one set of social conventions on another group of people. This kind of “analogy discernment” in our churches today, which I have tried to work out for one issue, can be a fruitful form of applying the Bible.

Fundamental to Christian unity is the recognition of different callings and movements in the church of Christ. The “penguin impulse” (better known as “peer pressure”) is too observable in various segments of the church. What is the “penguin impulse”? Inasmuch as all penguins look and act alike, so also many Christians expect all Christians to be alike—from the clothes they wear to the translations they carry, from the schools they attend to the stores they patronize, from the political views they embrace to the kinds of cars they buy. But this can only go on for so long; eventually we find differences.

While we may poke fun at teenagers who think they are thinking for themselves but all dress similarly, we find the same features in adults and in adult Christian experience. My travels have impressed me with one observation: in whatever local church you find yourself, the majority of people in that church offer public prayers in highly similar language. Whether it is the ending or the beginning, the “our heavenly Father” or the “in Jesus’ name” patterns emerge in local churches. Too often this is social conformity and not personal piety, and we can attribute it to the penguin impulse. This, however, is not true Christian unity. I once prayed with a young man who had not yet been influenced by the prayers of others; he ended his prayer with “I’m done, God. Thanks.” My son once asked me what “Amen” meant; I told him it meant “So be it” or “I agree.” The next night he wanted to pray before supper, and he ended his tidy, little grace with “So be it.” It sounded strange (and it was funny), but it meant nothing more than our more socially familiar “Amen” (which is an Aramaic word anyway). What we need is genuine Christian unity.

The most profound experience I ever had in this regard, one that drew me out of a cloistered perception of the evangelical-fundamentalist movement, was a summer of missionary work and evangelism in Austria, in the summers of 1973 and 1975. There I encountered genuine Christians who were: (1) not from my denomination, which was Baptist at that time; (2) unable to read the King James Version of the Bible; (3) happy to use guitars and drums in church services; (4) charismatic; (5) non-American and even anti-American; (6) unconcerned about issues that I thought were important, like drinking, dress codes, and hair length; and (7) profoundly godly and spiritual. My world was partly shattered because I came to realize that what I thought was Christian was no more (if even that!) than a reflection of inter-tribal debates that were occurring in the United States. The consequence of these two summers changed my perceptions of the entire church. I recognized through this that God works in different ways with different people in different parts of the world. Not only was my world enlarged, but my perception of God increased and my realization of the church was magnified in quantum leaps. I no longer thought all Christians had to be alike; I learned from this that God is much larger than my perceptions of him and his ways. This realization was the liberating work of the Spirit of God. When we experience such “largeness” in God’s work, we are liberated from our social conventions. We become “biblical universalists,” and we experience what Paul wanted: freedom (see 5:1–12).

We do not need to travel to Europe to gain this perception, though it was there I realized it. We need simply to open our eyes and our ears. We need to see how varied the church is and hear how vibrantly different it is in different parts of the world. It is not unwise for Christians to visit other churches in their local communities to find out what God is doing in various churches. True enough, sometimes we may be disappointed with what we see, but frequently we will be encouraged by finding the faith of others expressed in slightly (but just as valid) different ways.

Those who minister to inner-city blacks will emphasize different themes than those who serve the wealthy in well-to-do suburbs. In the summer of 1990 our family began our weeklong vacation on a Sunday morning. I was scheduled to preach at an inner-city church that morning, so we decided to depart from there. The experience captivated us and generated several hours of conversation in our traveling later that day. There we found an old church building with a fresh re-arrangement of society. The church was racially mixed, unlike our current suburban church; the church’s music was lively and loud, sometimes unlike our suburban church; the dress of the people was considerably less conspicuous than our suburban church; and the issues of concern on the bulletin board (which I make a habit of reading) were completely different than those on our suburban church’s bulletin board. But they were people like those of the suburban church, people who wanted to know God, to follow Jesus, and to make an impact on their neighborhood. The Bible was the same, though its applications were different. The message was the same, but its calling was different. We were enthralled with our morning of worshiping with that inner-city church. We also grew from it. The work of God is much broader than our suburban, well-to-do, mostly white churches.

Along this same line we need to learn that different callings are not mutually exclusive. Local InterVarsity Fellowships and Navigator Bible studies are not in competition with local churches for people. What each is called to do needs to be acknowledged, accepted, built upon, and mixed together. Local churches should not see themselves in competition with each other and proselytize members away from other churches. Nor should we be competing with other churches for evangelizing the unchurched. If what another church is doing is biblical, we in our church need to support and pray for that church in its ministry. Attendance boards are largely irrelevant; impact on our community, personal godliness, and praise to God are all that really matter. When one church takes up a ministry (e.g., public political issues), another church might take up another ministry (e.g., evangelizing an unreached area). In my view, God is not pleased to see one four-way stop neatly dotted with four churches when each of those four churches have almost identical statements of faith and largely the same “clientele.” Worse yet is when one of those four churches spends too much of its time criticizing the other three. Different callings in the world are not mutually exclusive.

Paul’s quick response to the Judaizers needs to be seen in perspective. He was not simply justifying himself. He knew the future implications of a present heresy. He knew that if he did not get this matter clarified, it would jeopardize the “truth of the gospel” for the Gentiles (v. 5). And we need also to see that present deviations from the truth of the gospel produce tomorrow’s heretics and heresies. This is why we need to be constantly guarding our confessions of faith and the content of our teaching in classes and pulpits. Strange ideas, no matter how innocent at first, can generate years of dry ministries. Because this is a frequently observed factor in the history of the church, it is fundamentally important for churches to have theological quality control of its teaching ministries. Sad to say, this is all too often surrendered to denominational boards (who are usually too distant to understand what is going on) or to seminary professors (who are also too distant). Local churches need to have a theologically astute leadership in order to protect themselves from devious ideas.21 We need to listen and to learn; we need to grow and to change; but the essentials of the gospel are constant, and in these there is no change and no growth. To these we are to commit ourselves with unreserved trust and faithfulness.