David Bahn – Reflections

When I was in college there was a growing interest in the work of the Holy Spirit among many Christians. The Charismatic Movement was gaining strength and attention, and not without some controversy. Some thought the idea of speaking in tongues was a gift every Christian should pray for and receive. Others said the more spectacular gifts of the Holy Spirit were no longer being given. It led to some church splits and some very strained family and friend relationships.

Thankfully that controversy seems to have settled down a bit. There are some who each make those mutually-exclusive claims. But they are decidedly on the margins of the conversations these days. Sadly, that may be so because so few people seem to care about good theology. Too many folks have an “If it seems good to me, it must be right” mentality. We don’t have to fight about these things. But we should care about them.

As Paul speaks about the Holy Spirit here, he reminds the Galatians and us that the gift(s) of the Spirit are gifts of grace (“charismata” in Greek, from which we get the word charismatic). They are to be prized. And in the earliest days of the church the outward manifestations of the Holy Spirit’s presence were evidence of God’s favor. They were the means by which Paul was able to make the case for the inclusion of the new Gentile believers into the nascent Christian Church.

But now, another rung on the ladder is being required. This is the issue there. Must the Galatians (and other Gentile believers) observe Old Testament Laws and rituals to be fully included in the family of God? Paul makes the strongest case possible: No. And here he reminds them of the means by which they gained entrance into the church: hearing in faith. Listening to the Good News and being brought to faith. That was it.

While we don’t seem to worry about Old Testament Law or charismatic gifts of the Spirit today, we should remember the attendant lesson of God’s grace and the means by which we assure ourselves that we are legitimately part of the family of God. It’s the same thing: we hear God’s word and believe it. Even this is a gift of the Holy Spirit. This is why we read the Bible and pray, and talk with other believers, and sing God’s praises. These bolster our faith.

We need not worry about issues like circumcision or other Old Testament rituals. Nor do we need to rely on outward manifestations of the Spirit to prove to ourselves that we are true believers. Simply hear God’s word. Believe what he says. Rejoice in his salvation. This the the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Sunday’s Gospel reading from Luke 3 recorded John the Baptizer’s greeting to the people who were coming out to be baptized by him: “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” (Luke 3:7). Jesus says to his disciples(!), “If you being evil know how to give good gifts to your children…” (Matthew 7:11). Here Paul calls the Galatians foolish. What’s up with this?

John the Baptizer was a wild prophet. He dressed funny. He ate locusts and wild honey. He did not pull punches – even when it meant confronting the king who would take his life. So in a sense it’s not too surprising that he would be so harsh in his greeting to the people who came to be baptized by him.  Jesus is the embodiment of grace and truth. He claimed to be the way, the truth, and the life. Although his assessment of the disciples was harsh – calling them evil – it was true. We’re all sinful by nature, we fallen creatures.

So I suppose Paul is in good company as he expresses dismay at the Galatians’ abandonment of the truth of the gospel. But I wonder, is he being too harsh? After all, they’re new believers. The Christian faith was very new to them. Perhaps they thought it was only a more full expression of the faith that they were embracing. By going along with the Old Testament Laws about food and drink, not to mention circumcision, maybe they thought they were rounding out their faith.

But the whole point of the gospel is that we’re put right with God through faith in Jesus, and by God’s grace. No ritual, religious observance, sacrifice, or need to go up to the Temple avails before God. But not only are these unnecessary, they undercut the gospel message. They cloud our view of God’s grace and truth. There is much at stake here.

A gentleman in a church I served once claimed that the only truly acceptable form of worship what that which came from the Lutheran hymnal, and that any other form of worship was sinful. Wrong. Evil. Try as I might, I could not convince him otherwise. I could not help him to see that we have freedom in our religion for many different expressions of worship to God. Oh, foolish man! Who has bewitched you? Sadly he was convinced that he was defending true Lutheran teaching – Formula of Concord Article X notwithstanding.

I’m not sure I like being called evil – by Jesus or anyone else for that matter. But I’d rather be corrected and taught humility than be allowed to abandon God’s grace in an ill-advised attempt to impress the king of the universe any day. Truly, “Wounds from a friend can be trusted” (Proverbs 27:6).

I recall how my campus pastor, Robert Lange, spoke about this verse. It was very meaningful to him. Inspired by his enthusiasm I have memorized it. I love the idea that Paul gives witness to his ongoing life of faith. The fact that he has been crucified but is still alive is intriguing. And perhaps the key to understanding the phrase: “I’ve been crucified with Christ.”

Something has died in order to be united with Christ. Something has been killed. Something no longer defines us. In Paul’s case, it was certainly his determined effort to stamp out every vestige of adherence to Jesus’ teachings. He saw Jesus as a deceiver, false prophet, and usurper of God’s true identity and glory. He had believed that whatever it took to rid the world of his followers was not only proper, but properly called for. He had been doing everything he could to persecute Jesus’ followers.

Then he learned that he was persecuting Jesus himself when he encountered him on the road to Damascus. He soon realized that Jesus was (is) God’s Son. He learned that Jesus had risen from the dead. He discovered that God’s gift of salvation through faith in Jesus was the greatest treasure of all. He came to believe that Jesus died for his sins. His old self was nailed to the cross along with all his sins and Jesus himself. He (the old nature) was crucified with Christ.

Now he lives. He is more fully alive than ever before. His new life of faith took him to places he would never have gone before. The persecution he himself experienced was like that which he had previously sought to inflict on others. Now it was being inflicted upon him. But it did not turn him away. He had faith in Jesus. He believed. He trusted. He set his heart on Jesus’ promises. He embraced the goodness of God in the fullest sense.

For lifelong Christians the difference is often not so obvious. I cannot remember a time when I didn’t believe in Jesus. But I did take a sad and sinful detour during my college years. All the while I was outwardly identifying as being a Christian. But so much of what I was living for was abhorrent to God. I am still tempted to look away from God and his ways. Sins especially of thought, but sometimes word and deed seek to entangle me.

That’s why I am thankful to be crucified with Christ – to have those parts of me that go against God’s ways nailed there and die. That’s why my life of faith is so precious. I believe that Jesus died for my sins. I believe his promises are true. I believe God is good. I believe it is better to live in ways that honor God. By his power and with his help, I live faithfully and resist temptation. But I never outgrow the need for the cross, Jesus’ forgiveness, and God’s mercy. I believe Jesus gave himself for me, and I am deeply grateful: now and forever.

I believe that’s what it means to be crucified with Christ and yet to live.

Several decades ago my aunt died very unexpectedly. She was much loved and it was a shock for the family and their many friends. I remember visiting with my uncle and sharing the Easter sermon I was going to preach as a lay reader that coming Sunday. It was well-intentioned on my part. But I may have failed to acknowledge the pain and loss he was experiencing at the time. Truly, her eternal hope was being realized, and she was with Jesus. But he had a lot of life to live then and there.

I remember how my mom spoke of missing my dad so severely. She lost him too soon; he was only 64 at the time of his death. And she lived for nearly 30 years after he died. She never doubted her eternal destiny. But life in the meantime was full of challenges, blessings, opportunities, and pain.

How do you live today in light of our eternal hope? What does it mean to acknowledge that we have been saved and yet we’re not in heaven just yet?

This is what Paul is speaking of here when he writes, “For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God.” He is acknowledging that daily life is not a matter of ritualistic religion, but of daily faith working itself out in love. We’re commanded to love God above all things, and love our neighbor as ourselves. That’s not a matter of focusing on proper religious rituals, but of living in daily repentance and faith according to our calling. 

I think of John the Baptizer who was asked by crowds, tax collectors, and soldiers what they should do if they were living unto God. His answer: share with those in need, treat people honestly and fairly, and don’t use your power to intimidate or take advantage of others.

Living unto God is more than a two hour Sunday morning stint. It’s everyday life in humility, hope, kindness, mercy, and love. It’s a reflection of the way Jesus lived. And it is a life free from condemnation because he lived it perfectly and has secured our eternal salvation.

It’s all about Jesus. At times it’s sin and grace. Occasionally it’s repentance and faith. But it’s never “You are an Overcomer!” Or how to become a millionaire by giving generous offerings. Nor even “Why should you support Israel in their war against Hamas.”

But sometimes I almost feel guilty – like I’m a one-trick pony. But it is true: I’m pretty much a one-trick pony when it comes to preaching. In fact my son, decades ago offered me what he thought was a helpful insight into my preaching. “Dad,” he said, “whenever you preach, no matter the text or the topic, you always end up talking about Jesus.” I had to explain to him that was intentional. That is the center of our theology, the ground of our hope, and the basis for our life here and now.

But when I read Paul’s letter to the Galatians I almost wonder about his penchant for talking about justification by grace through faith. He is going to great lengths to set this foundation for his ongoing message to them. There is more to come. But none of it will make any sense apart from understanding that we are all justified by God’s grace through faith. Jew. Gentile. Slave. Free. Male. Female. Young. Old. We are all justified by something outside of us. I should say someone other than we ourselves.

Some say this article of faith is outdated and irrelevant to modern men and women. But I say we’re all wanting to be justified in any way other than by grace through faith. I want to make sure you understand my decision to buy that new lens is a good a just decision. You want to be certain your choice of car is appropriate. We all want to make our votes count and show just cause for how we voted.

It even flows to our prayers. We want to be sure our prayers are reasonable and good. We want to ask things in just the right way. We want to know we’re not being selfish when we pray.

These are good things, but what if we could act, vote, buy, and pray with the best of motives possible and leave it to God to sort out what is good and not. And what if we took his answers as they are without question because we actually believe God is good and trustworthy, gracious and loving?

What if we could live with a deep sense of peace knowing that we’re right with God because of his decision not our own? We are right with God by his grace and goodness, not our sincerity or intent to do good.

Paul died to the law so that he could be alive to God. I want to join him there and celebrate now and throughout eternity his goodness, grace, faithfulness, justice, glory, and love. I hope you will join me there at the foot of the cross.

Now you be good.

I’d rather be right than good.

Behave yourself!

You don’t want me to have any fun.

How sad that we trivialize moral behavior by talking about being good in these terms. As Lutheran Christians we trend away from a simplistic understanding of good and evil. We recognize that evil is not merely a matter of being naughty. And we believe, as Jesus said, “Only God is good.”

So I’m a bit intrigued by Paul’s differentiation between himself, Peter, and Barnabas as Jews, and “not Gentile sinners.”  “Sinners” in this context reflects a traditional Jewish way of distinguishing Gentiles, but Paul redefines and universalizes the term. He is not name-calling, for we all need God’s grace. Truth is, we’re all sinners.

But there is also a delightful irony here. When Paul says, “We ourselves are Jews by birth and not Gentile sinners,” he is employing irony. The Jews, despite their privileged position under the covenant, also fall short and need the same justification through Christ as the Gentiles do. His ultimate point is that no one—Jew or Gentile—is justified by works of the law but only through faith in Christ.

No amount of law-keeping or good-being will avail before God. We’ll never find our place in the kingdom of God by any means other than faith in Christ.

I’ve been giving faith some thought lately. Mine wavers from bright hot to cold dark. Sometimes I’m strong in my beliefs and have few questions or doubts. Other times, the tiniest doubt can upend my confidence. But faith itself is not the point. The point is what is our faith in? In what or whom do we believe? It’s not a matter of having strong faith. It’s a matter of having a strong savior. It’s not our strength that connects us to God’s promises, but God’s faithfulness that gives us strength.

Paul will, in other places, make it clear that we are all sinners in need of God’s forgiveness and grace. He will also make it clear that God is the author of our faith; it’s his gift to us by the Holy Spirit. If we ask how good we must be to please God, to be saved, or to qualify for his love, the goal is far too high. If we ask how good, faithful, gracious and loving God is, we will also never fathom the height, depth, breadth, and length of those qualities.

We must ever keep that in mind.

The nearest I’ve experienced someone spying out my freedom is when I had a respectful conversation with a brother pastor about worship style. Several years ago I was serving a church that already had a contemporary style worship service. By today’s standards it was quite tame – for lack of a better word. My brother pastor in the same circuit was very committed to a traditional liturgical worship style. He and I met for lunch one day to talk it over. I quoted both Galatians 5 (“for freedom Christ has set us free”), and the Formula of Concord, article X (FCX) on church ceremonies. FCX says we will not condemn one church or another because it has fewer or more ceremonies than we do.

I asked him to allow me the freedom to worship in that contemporary style. He asked me to use the freedom I had to worship with the traditional Lutheran liturgy. We agreed to disagree. He later left The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod. I went on to serve St. John Lutheran Church in Cypress, Texas.

During my tenure there we added a contemporary worship service, which we called NewSong. Whenever the issue of worship styles came up, I would say, “We don’t say, ‘Oh, you never know what crazy things those NewSong people are going to do.’ Nor do we say, ‘Those Majestic Grace people are so rigid…’” We acknowledged the validity of both styles, though there were some who would find it nearly impossible to cross over to the other style. There are some pretty strong preferences in regard to this issue.

The issue Paul faced in Galatia, however, was far more significant than that of worship style. It was fellowship requirements. These events happened either before the Jerusalem Council (cf. Acts 15) or possibly during that time. In either case, the issue would be solved at that council, and the requirement of the Gentile believers for fellowship in the early church was simply that they, “abstain from what has been sacrificed to idols, and from blood, and from what has been strangled, and from sexual immorality. If you keep yourselves from these, you will do well. Farewell” (Acts 15:29).

Fifteen hundred years ago Pope Leo and Johann Eck were proffering a brand of the Christian faith that said you had to buy your way into heaven. You could purchase indulgences for a loved on who was in Purgatory, or pay to have your sins forgiven. All this was touted as a means by which people expressed their thanks for absolution, or showed their love for a departed parent or grandparent.

A man by the name of Martin Luther began to stand up against such pollution of the gospel. He insisted that our salvation was a gift of God’s grace, received by faith alone, on account of Christ alone, as testified to by Scripture alone – all to the glory of God alone. Luther asserted a freedom from the tyranny of the Pope, and church traditions that had no basis in Scripture.

There may be those who wish to throttle our freedom. And sometimes it can become messy when we encounter different practices and preferences. But I stand on Augsburg Confession Article VII, which says in part, “And to the true unity of the Church it is enough to agree concerning the doctrine of the Gospel and the administration of the Sacraments. Nor is it necessary that human traditions, that is, rites or ceremonies instituted by men, should be everywhere alike.” And I stand on Galatians 5:1, “It was for freedom that Christ has set us free.” Let no one spy out that freedom!