Original Meaning

PAUL IS A good pastor; thus, he cannot wait until the end of his “sermon” to make some applications. While he still has one more argument (4:21–31) to go through until he has presented his complete case, he nonetheless jumps into the significance of his arguments thus far. He has argued from the Old Testament (3:6–14), the nature of covenants (3:15–25), and from sonship (3:26–4:7). Our section, the application, belongs to the argument from sonship but goes well beyond it to become an application of his entire argument.

This section can be neatly divided into two (uneven) sections: (1) The Problem (vv. 8–11) and (2) The Plea (vv. 12–20). The Plea is rather random and emotional. In it Paul appeals to his own example and to his own role in their reversion to Judaism (vv. 12–16); then he explains what is actually going on at Galatia (vv. 17–18) before appealing once more in a more emotional tone (vv. 19–20).

The Problem (vv. 8–11)

ELSEWHERE PAUL DESCRIBES the past of his Gentile converts in less than positive terms (cf. Rom. 1:18–23; 1 Cor. 12:2; Eph. 2:11–13; 1 Thess. 4:5). Here he does the same: “Formerly,1 when you did not know God, you were slaves to those who by nature are not gods.” Put differently, there were two religious dimensions of their religious past: (1) they did not know the God of Israel, the true God of the world,2 and (2) the gods they did know were “by nature … not gods” (cf. 1 Cor. 8:4–6). These expressions confirm that the Galatian converts were formerly Gentiles.

Paul goes on to state that now that they are converted, they have a good beginning. He corrects his own language in his description of their conversion: “But now that you know God—or rather are known by God….” This correction is designed, not to teach that they did not know God, but to put the emphasis where Paul usually puts it: on God’s sovereign grace as the initiating force in conversion. He insists that people do not seek God (cf. Rom. 3:11: “no one who searches for God”); rather, God seeks people. Humans are so caught in their sin and so in love with their sin that they do not seek holiness and love in and of themselves (cf. 1 Cor. 8:3; 13:12; 1 John 4:19: “We love because he first loved us” [cf. v. 10]).

That good beginning has now become a bad situation; that is the Galatians’ problem. In spite of having received the knowledge of God, they have reverted back to their former ways. Paul wants to know, “How is it that you are turning back?” What he says here may be the most radical statement he makes anywhere about the law. The Galatians had had a typical pagan past (ignorant about the true God and worshiping non-gods). They had converted wonderfully as a result of Paul’s preaching (3:1), but now they were “turning back to those weak and miserable principles” (cf. 1:6; 3:3).3 Here Paul describes their “new-but-bad situation” with the term principles, the same term he used in 4:3 for the Jewish past under the law. Furthermore, in verse 10 he mentions what is by almost every reckoning Jewish observances4 of holy days and seasons (cf. Rom. 14:5–12; Col. 2:16–17). What is revolutionary here is that Paul considers “moving into Judaism” as nothing other than a reversion to “paganism,” to “non-gods” (cf. Gal. 1:6). He asks, “Do you wish to be enslaved by them all over again?” Their move from idolatry to Christianity and now to Judaism is for Paul no different than a venture back into “idolatry” or “paganism.”

R. N. Longenecker says it well:

Beyond question, Paul’s lumping of Judaism and paganism together in this manner is radical in the extreme. No Judaizer would ever have accepted such a characterization of Torah observance; nor would those in Galatia who acceded to their message…. For Paul, however, whatever leads one away from sole reliance on Christ, whether based on good intentions or depraved desires, is sub-Christian and therefore to be condemned.5

F. F. Bruce adds that this viewpoint is given “not as an exaggeration in the heat of argument but as the deliberate expression of a carefully thought out position.”6 Incidentally, Paul’s willingness to lump together both unconverted Jew and Gentile under the “elemental principles” encourages our application of the text of Galatians, which so often addresses the Jewish Christian problem, to all groups today. Every human being, Paul would say, is captive to the “element principles” in some way and is only set free by Jesus Christ.

This bad situation leads to Paul’s fear: “that somehow I have wasted my efforts on you.” Paul had worked hard on the Galatians’ behalf and for the universalism of the gospel. He risked rejection and censure in a private meeting (2:1–10), and he publicly rebuked Peter (2:11–14). He risked his life in missionary work (cf. 4:12–16) and experienced a great deal of criticism from the Judaizers. Any pastor knows the heartache and fear that come when a parishioner wavers, stumbles, and even falls away. That is all Paul is saying here, and he will say similar things to other churches and try to rectify the problems (1 Cor. 4:16–17; 1 Thess. 3:5). His fear and frustration now give way to a plea.

The Plea (vv. 12–20)

AS ALREADY MENTIONED, Paul’s appeal here is random and emotional. He calls the Galatians to follow his own example (v. 12a) and states his own personal role in their reversion (v. 12b). He goes on to remind them of the way they responded to him initially (vv. 13–16). Then he explains the situation at Galatia so they will know what is really happening (vv. 17–18). Finally, he makes an emotional appeal or wish that finishes off his argument (vv. 19–20).

Paul’s example (v. 12a) Later, Paul will remind both the Corinthians and the Thessalonians of his own example (1 Cor. 2:1–5; 11:1; 1 Thess. 1:2–10) as a foundation on which he can construct his appeals. Those appeals began with the technique he uses here with the Galatians: “Become like me, for I became like you.” Most likely Paul means something like this: “Become like me by freeing yourself from the law of Moses, just as I abandoned the law of Moses as God’s dominant revelation for his people” (cf. Gal. 2:15–21). The second clause, “for I became like you,” would then mean: I became like you Gentiles when I abandoned the law, accepted that I too was a sinner, and then turned to Jesus Christ (again, 2:15–21; see also 1 Cor. 9:19–23).7

Another interpretation sees here a theory of communication: “Become like me, for I became like you” is the appeal of a pastor who has fully sympathized and identified himself with his congregation. Again, evidence for this is 1 Corinthians 9:19–23. However, in this view the emphasis is given to motivation rather than theological grounding.8 Even if I would agree that a secret to communication is identification and sympathy, I find this view of the verse to be more modern and less in tune with the essential problem Paul is facing: the Judaizers persuading the Galatians to live under the law.

Paul’s role in their defection (v. 12b) “You have done me no wrong.” What does Paul mean here? Is it nothing but a trusting comment, as between friends: “Friends agree not to hurt one another and you have not hurt me”?9 I think not. Rather, Paul is stating that, in moving over to the Judaizers and abandoning the truth of the gospel as Paul preached it, they were not hurting Paul.10 While the Judaizers might appeal to personal arguments, like “Don’t leave or you will injure us,” Paul knows that leaving his gospel is not leaving him; on the contrary, it is leaving God (1:6; 4:12a). This requires a good (to use our term) “self-image” and a solid confidence that not many have but the apostle did: he knew that he was a servant of God, not the center of God’s work, and he knew that rejecting him was more importantly rejecting God (cf. Matt. 10:40–42).

Paul’s reminder of their initial response (vv. 13–16) In spite of the fact that their departure is not taken personally by Paul, he reminds them of how they had previously responded to him, in the hope that they will repeat it, abandon the Judaizers, and once again align themselves with the universalism of the gospel.

When Paul originally preached the gospel to them, he did so “because of an illness” (v. 13), which was a “trial” to them (v. 14). What was this illness? There have been many guesses but no consensus. Some of the guesses are that he had malaria, epilepsy, or an eye disease. The evidence is incomplete, and we do not know even that it was the same as the “splinter” of 2 Corinthians 12:7. What we do know is that it was “because” of this illness that Paul ended up in Galatia. It is possible that he needed help that could only be found there (i.e., some kind of doctor) or that the conditions there were favorable for his recuperation. The illness was obvious and certainly the kind that could be offensive to an audience (hence, a “trial to you”).

More importantly, the illness did not bother the Galatians (vv. 14–16); they looked beyond it and saw in Paul’s preaching the truth of God because his message was attended by the power of the Holy Spirit (cf. 1 Cor. 2:4–5; 4:20; 1 Thess. 2:6). In fact, they received him as if he were an angel (Gal. 1:8);11 even more, they received him as if he were Jesus Christ himself. This idea of being received as if one were Jesus Christ may well be connected to the theme of apostleship (see notes on 1:1). Apostles were personal representatives, and receiving such a person was tantamount to receiving the sender (cf. Matt. 10:40–42).

Paul says they were so receptive that they would have given their eyes to him, had they been able to (v. 15). It is this verse that has led so many to think Paul’s “illness” was an eye disease; this is possible but hardly certain. H. D. Betz, in fact, shows that the theme of friendship in antiquity often associates such things as giving one’s eyes as a demonstration of the depth of one’s commitment to a friend.12

Reminding the Galatians of their former commitment (and friendship) to him makes the present situation unbearable for Paul: “What has happened?” (v. 15), and “Have I now become your enemy by telling you the truth?” (v. 16). This whole situation, Paul thinks, needs clarification for them, so Paul proceeds to that.

Paul’s explanation of the situation (vv. 17–18) Paul contends that the Judaizing Christians (i.e., “those people”) “are zealous to win you over.” They want to “alienate you [from us],13 so that you may be zealous for them.” This term zeal is highly important for understanding the Galatian context. When used negatively, this term describes an emotion of “jealousy” and “intensity” that seeks to remedy a situation, frequently with violence. We are aware that there was a “party of Zealots” during the Great War (A.D. 66–73), whose sole ambition, through use of violence, was to defeat Rome and establish Jerusalem as the place that worshiped one God.14

Were the Judaizers violent Zealots? I am of the view that, though the term “zealous for you” can mean nothing more than “working hard to proselytize you,”15 the term here describes the intensity of their action as well as the general national character of that action. In other words, while these Judaizers were not themselves using warlike violence to make full converts, they were part of a larger movement that was intensely nationalistic which, under better conditions, might erupt into violence. Physical force may have been used in Galatia (cf. notes on 2:14 and 6:12). This, I believe, is the natural inference from “compel you to be circumcised” in 6:12, where we will see that the real “zealots” are still back in Jerusalem and those “zealots” are putting pressure on the Judaizers to compel synagogue associates to conform to the whole law. What is clearer is that their orientation is highly nationalistic, and so Paul uses the term “zealous for you.” We must remember that the central feature of their zeal was Israel and the law—and especially the law of circumcision. Circumcision was the act that separated the Jew from the Gentile. In essence, therefore, their “zeal” was nationalism.16

This helps define the meaning of “alienate” here: “to alienate you [from us]” means “to enter you, through circumcision, into Israel,” “to allow your passage from one group into another.” The Judaizers’ goal, of course, was that the Galatians might be “zealous” for them: devoted so much to the law that they would carry on their agenda of separating God’s people from the Gentile world by constructing the barriers that Jesus Christ had broken down. Their action, however, was “for no good” (v. 17): that is, it would not lead to acceptance with God as Paul has outlined from the beginning of the letter.

Paul now pauses to interject a note about “zeal”: it is good to be zealous if one is zealous for God, as some of the saints of Israel had been (cf. Gen. 34; Num. 25:10–13; 2002019, 2002050, 2002058; 2 Macc. 4:2). It is “for no good,” however, if one’s zeal is nationalistic and contrary to the promises of Abraham. And their zeal ought to be expressed for God “always” and not just when Paul was with them. We can only guess that their conversion must have led to an outpouring of commitment to everything Paul had taught them. Paul now senses that this “zeal for the gospel” has flagged and needs to be rekindled.

Paul’s wish (vv. 19–20) Paul now expresses a wish to be with them so he can rectify things. We see here the heart of a pastor (much like the pastoral section 2 Cor. 2:14–7:4). His goal was clear: “until Christ is formed in you” (v. 19; cf. 2:20; 2 Cor. 3:18). He wanted the Galatian converts to grow in the Spirit until the image of Christ was formed—actually “transformed”—in them (cf. Rom. 12:1–2; 13:14; Eph. 4:23–24; Col. 1:24–2:5; 3:10). This would be a life of the Spirit, not the law; it would be centered in Christ, not Moses; it would be the universalism of the Abrahamic promise, not the nationalism of the Judaizing view of the Mosaic law.

Paul’s description of the Galatians’ situation leads him to think of his pastoral role to be one like giving birth to children. While he implies new birth here, he also implies that the opponents had caused what, in effect, might be considered an abortion. Paul must now “again” (v. 19) go through the process of leading them to the faith they once embraced.17 He wants them to grow into Christ.

But for them to grow, Paul senses that he would have to be there and “change my tone”—from this stern warning and harsh language to the gentleness of a love that would persuade them over to his side and “alienate them” from the Judaizers. Paul’s letter, he implies, is a weak communication in comparison to his mighty presence.

Bridging Contexts

PAUL’S EMOTIONAL APPEAL is no different than many emotional appeals that pastors, teachers, parents, and friends make today. Because it is so like what happens today, it is not hard to make applications of the general nature of this passage. What we see operating here is a pastor, and we can learn lessons from Paul as pastor. In fact, the text points us in that direction when Paul says, “Become like me, for I became like you.” Putting this Pauline statement together with others about “imitating him” (cf. 1 Cor. 4:16; 11:1; Phil. 3:17; 4:9; 1 Thess. 1:6; 2 Thess. 3:7, 9) makes pastoring a natural application. So we can learn lessons about pastoring, or caring for others, from the example of Paul.

Although at one level this particular command to the Galatians to become like him is simply a statement of Paul for them to follow him, and maybe only in a particular manner, when we examine it in the context of his own teachings of a similar nature, we find a pattern. Paul thought he was a good example of how to follow Christ and, though he surely thought following Christ was the ultimate aim, he encouraged young Christians to learn to live as Christians by following him. Thus, particular statements can become general patterns when we trace them through other passages in Paul’s letters.

When we approach a passage, however, what do we do to find the transferable lessons? Several techniques are recommended. (1) Some direct statements have straightforward applications. “Become like me” is not hard to understand: Just as Paul lived apart from the law, so must we. (2) Sometimes the situation behind the statement or idea may be similar to ours. In our passage, we may find a situation of Paul’s (failing converts) to be similar to ours (failing converts), and so we learn to respond to the situation in a way similar to Paul’s. The same applies to Paul’s illness; how can we apply this? I see his illness as an “impediment to communication” that God simply walked over in his desire to get to the hearts of the Galatians. We can apply this by finding similar “obstacles to communication.” (3) We may need at times to examine one passage in light of others of the same kind to get a fuller picture of the idea so application might be made. We have suggested this for the notion of imitating Paul. (4) We may learn that some things Paul did are not for us. Whether it is his authority or his social and historical context, sometimes his world is so different that we cannot make an imitation of him possible. (5) Sometimes the motivations of Paul can be discerned; assuming that an apostle is worthy of imitating, we can infer from his motivations that our motivations should be similar.

As mentioned above, this is an emotional appeal. But we need to observe that this is not the only kind of appeal Paul could make. He could be also very reasoned, even complex and esoteric, in his argumentation (cf. 3:6–4:7; 4:21–31). Peter knew there were hard things in Paul to comprehend (2 Peter 3:15–16). So while Paul is emotional in this passage, emotional appeal was not his only tactic. He knew when to be intellectual and when to be emotional, just as he knew when to be a Jew and when to be Gentile (1 Cor. 9:19–23).

Contemporary Significance

PAUL’S EMOTIONAL RESPONSE here is, without doubt, a critique of the “dry as dust” approach some advocate for teaching and preaching. Inasmuch as the gospel of Christ stirs our emotions, we should try to stir the emotions of those who hear it. Inasmuch as the message of sin pricks our consciences, so we should seek to convict others of sin. Inasmuch as the love of God is soothing and ennobling, so we should flood our people with a sense of their dignity because God loves them. The emotions attached to, and inherent in, a text ought to be there, and we ought to bring them out. Otherwise, we do not read the Bible aright. We dare not pretend that the Bible is a book for academics, designed only for intellectual stimulation and debate. The Bible is a book of reality, and part of reality is emotion.

The main issue in this “Contemporary Significance” section is on imitating Paul. I would first of all recommend that readers of Paul set out the passages in which he talked about following him and see just what he wanted them to follow. These passages include Galatians 4:8–20; 1 Corinthians 4:16; 11:1; Philippians 3:17; 4:9; 1 Thessalonians 1:6; 2 Thessalonians 3:7, 9. Read these and make a list of the things Paul asked others to imitate in his practices.

A question needs to be asked while doing this exercise: Is there difference between an apostle and a pastor in spiritually nurturing others? Surely there is. Do these differences negate or tone down any of the observations about imitating Paul? There is one so important that I want to record it here: that an apostle has a kind of authority that neither pastors nor parents nor “disciplers” dare to think they have. I believe that we will need to be careful in “imitating Paul,” and one sure way of guaranteeing that we are being careful is to recognize right up front that we are not as authoritative as he was.

Second, I would like to apply this principle of “following Paul,” or “learning from his example,” to Galatians 4:8–20. What can we learn about pastoring, or caring for the spiritual welfare of others, from Paul’s own example? Here are four considerations.

(1) His goal and ours: to form Christ in others (v. 19). Paul’s goal was not to have people say he was a great evangelist; not to have the approval of others; not to have the sanction of Jerusalem. His goal in working with people was to have Christ formed in them. In verse 12b we find that Paul was not “personally hurt” when the Galatians succumbed to the Judaizers, and in verse 16 he shows that he was willing to be an “enemy” if he had to be in telling them the truth. These two statements can only come from someone who sets out in ministry only to please God and not be bothered by human rejection. What does Paul want in others? As I outlined above, this would be a “Spirit-led life” and a “Christ-centered existence.” What is our goal?

We are, no doubt, as seduced as Paul was to gain the approval of others. We may begin with no desire but to serve God, but we find, after a few good experiences, that the approval of others is gratifying. The approval of others, I believe, can be cancerous. Before long we look forward to it and find, after even longer, that we are partially motivated by it. How do we see this? When we are disappointed when people do not approve of us.

Let me give an example of a Sunday school teacher. This teacher labors hard for her adult students and works hard so that the students will learn and grow. Unconsciously for awhile, she labors solely to serve God and exercise her gifts. After some of the sessions she observes that some of her students are growing and giving her the satisfaction of knowing that she has been instrumental in their growth. She continues. After a few months (or years) she observes that the affirmations are not as frequent nor as intense. Later she begins to take note of a general lack of affirmation. At this point she begins to sense a “lack of appreciation” and so begins to be a little rougher with her class. The story will go on and her feelings will escalate into bitterness and even possibly quitting, unless she realizes that she has gotten trapped into thinking that the goal of her teaching was to please others. She can recover quickly, I believe, once she realizes that her goal is to urge that people “live in the Spirit” and “make Christ the center of their lives.” People’s responses almost never measure whether we are serving God properly. To change the focus of this application, let me suggest that pastors for a while not stand at the back of “their church” after preaching, in order to see if they are getting dependent on congratulations.

At the same time, let me pause to remind us that our ministries are designed to help others. And I am not wrong, I think, in saying that it is both normal and acceptable to find a certain enjoyment in finding out that we have been helpful to others. The issue is simple: what is our motivation? Do we serve to be approved by others or do we seek God’s approval?

(2) His ground and ours: an identical personal experience (v. 12). Paul could call the Galatians to become like him because he had become like them. That is, he had learned to live apart from the law; he wanted them to do this as well. Here is a fundamental principle in ministry. We will never be as effective with people as we should be until we have experienced what we are advocating. It is also the case that what we have experienced is frequently what we like to talk about. Nonetheless, we will often find ourselves “in trouble” if what we are talking about is not something we have actually lived through. As it makes little sense for someone who has never mothered or fathered to stand on a pedestal and talk about childrearing, so it makes little sense for someone to talk about “living apart from the law” who has been living a life of legalism. This ground of experience for teaching and influencing is found in all disciplines of life. It forms the basis for a cherished idea throughout our churches: namely, we want experienced people ministering to us.

Can you imagine the looks on the faces of a nominating committee at a local church when they interview a young person for an opening who has never attended church regularly, never taught a Sunday school class, never led anyone to Christ, never been married and so never raised children, never been on a church committee, never led a song or prayed publicly, and also never preached a sermon in a church? When that young person says that attending seminary is qualification enough, a church board is more than justified in urging that person to “go out and get some experience.”

(3) His intensity and ours: the pain of childbirth (v. 19). I don’t know what it is like to give birth, but I have been there for the birth of both our children. (The birth of our son, Lukas, was painful enough for me that a nurse had to attend to me to keep me from fainting!) What I know is that it is laborious (no pun intended!) and painful. A child sees the world only as the result of a great deal of effort.

Paul’s pastoral experience led him to see “nurturing others in spiritual things” as similar to giving birth. He knew it was laborious and painful; he knew it took a lot of worrying and trusting in God; he knew it took a lot of attention to details and concern for people. In short, pastoring is much like mothering. While some church traditions call pastors “fathers,” and rightly so, it is surprising that more do not call them “mothers”! Giving birth and mothering are both very intense work. Reading Galatians from cover to cover in one sitting may wear a person out when we recognize how intense Paul was in this letter. His letter is only a sketch of what he could be like (so he tells us in v. 20)! Here he talks not only about his theology, but also about his feelings for them, about his hopes for them, about his disappointments over them, and about his frustrations. For another example of Paul’s pastoral intensity, read Colossians 1:24–2:5.

Those who work with the spiritual lives of others know what Paul is talking about. It means laborious prayer for them—praying here to avert one sin and praying there to stave off another problem. It means intellectual discussions that seek to answer questions that young Christians seem always to have.

(4) His situation and perhaps ours: a repulsive illness (vv. 13–14). Whatever Paul’s illness was, it was apparently repulsive. Paul writes “even though my illness was a trial to you”; this can only mean that they saw in his illness something difficult to live with. This created tension between Paul and the Galatians and made communication difficult. Nonetheless, God’s Spirit overcame the problem, and the Galatians were converted and taught the truth of the gospel.

We can apply this by finding an analogy: whatever impedes communication due to a shortfall on the part of the leader can be overcome through the Spirit. In my life I have seen God use all kinds of people: from preachers with speech impediments to athletes with physical handicaps to disciplers with problems in communicating. While we would not want to sanction “communication handicaps” as the surest way for God to use a person, we should also remind ourselves that God can use, and has used, some mighty weak vessels in communicating the gospel.

The problem then stares us in the face: we like tall, thin, handsome (male) pastors who have articulate speech and deep voices; we like them clean-shaven and well-dressed. In addition, we like it if they are compassionate and gentle and stimulating from the pulpit. Our exaltation of this “type” works itself down into our consciences, and individuals feel the call if they “fit the description,” while others feel decidedly unwelcome if they do not. Our perceptions of whom God uses can thus become a disgusting typification of cultural values rather than perceptions rooted in biblical values and traditions.

I once heard a pastor preach and wondered, on watching him the first few minutes, how he could ever have “made it” as a pastor. Here was a tall, gangly man whose body had some mysterious and spasmodic jerking, while he seemed to stammer and stutter not infrequently as he sought to deliver the sermon. After “getting used” to this odd type of preaching I become thunderstruck at the eloquence of his message and the profundity of his experience of God’s grace. Later I learned that he was, in fact, a mighty pastor with a powerful ministry in a large parish. What had been a “trial” to me became an invisible barrier to the grace of God.