NOTES for Gal 5:22-23

Here there are very difficult words that require a very careful approach: they crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. These words are generally seen as a basis for every kind of asceticism. This theme itself appears very often in the Apostle Paul. There are many other words related to these: "But far be it from me to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world" (Gal 6:14). I have heard it said that these words mean: I have died to the world and the world to me. But if the apostle had wanted to say that, he would have said exactly that, whereas he said something different.

Here is what Fr. Georgy Chistyakov says: "The point is that the Bible has no orientation toward fighting the passions. The New Testament, through the mouths of the holy apostles, calls us not to fight anger, rage, malice, and so on, but to 'put off,' that is, to take off like old clothing, or to 'strip off' all these vices from ourselves. These two words are used many times in Scripture when it speaks of passions and vices, but nowhere here is there talk of fighting the passions. One must think that everything concerning the struggle with the passions that rule over us and nest inside us entered Christian literature from Stoic and, more generally, ancient philosophy at a later time.

The holy apostles see the Christian's path not as a road of fighting the passions, but precisely as the throwing off of old clothing, as growing out of that clothing... But if we begin to take sin apart bone by bone and subject it to analysis, then we are inevitably seized or sucked in by the very process of struggle, we turn into fighters, and at that point our Christianity simply comes to an end. From the depths of our consciousness we transfer the struggle into the outside world and begin to fight everyone who, as it appears to us, thinks the wrong way, does the wrong thing, and so on."

Let us feel the important circumstance that our Lord Jesus did not derive pleasure from His suffering, the pleasure that we at times derive from our own asceticism. After all, there is such a mental disorder as masochism - that is where Freud had grounds to accuse us. And this is, in fact, essential.

In today’s apostolic reading, the apostle Paul reveals to us a striking interpretation of sacred history. He says that the promise to Abraham had in view the coming of Christ, while the law, which appeared four hundred and thirty years later, was a special form of help for unruly humanity so that we would not perish without support before meeting Christ. The law in itself, an impersonal norm, does not enable us to meet Christ; it is needed so that “on the way” to this meeting we do not turn aside. In the same way, a photograph of the woman one loves is useful during separation, helping one not to forget the features of her face, but it is not the photograph that brings about the meeting with her.

The division between spirit and flesh is a theme that occupied the minds of many ancient philosophers, but the apostle Paul speaks of an entirely new understanding of this question. What Christ offers does not fit within the framework of even the most coherent philosophical system. The spirit and human nature are directed in opposite directions, and reconciling them is practically impossible. This can be seen clearly in the absolutely incompatible fruits they bear. This is the law to which everything must be subject. Acting according to the flesh, a person must inevitably begin committing murders, adulteries, idol worship...

Only by living in the Holy Spirit is a person able to break this circle. If we are "led by the Spirit," then little by little He transforms us so that no laws have power over us any longer. For together with Christ we "crucify" our flesh "with its passions and desires," and we begin to live in the fullness of our whole being in such a way that our deeds can be called "fruits of the spirit."

The list of the “works of the flesh” is striking. The Apostle Paul lists without distinction sins that we call grave—adultery and murder—and so-called “everyday” sins—enmity, quarrels, and disagreements. And yet, it would seem, how can we imagine our life without any quarrels or disagreements at all? Perhaps we can imagine it, and perhaps we would even like the picture... but putting it into practice... We would so much like to say that if we have not killed anyone, then everything is more or less all right with us, while small shortcomings... everyone has them. And yet the Apostle Paul speaks clearly: “Those who practice such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.” So should we despair and give up? Is there no chance? Paul tells us that what matters most is what leads us. If we are led by the Spirit, we pass beyond the confines of the law of the flesh. The fruits of the Holy Spirit’s presence in our lives are the direct opposite of enmity and disagreement: love, joy, and patience. This is not about cultivating patience in ourselves. It is precisely about the Spirit acting in the heart, when patience and love are born from within. Virtue cannot be artificial.

Continuing the theme of the Torah, Paul writes to the Galatian Christians that refusing circumcision does not mean refusing the Torah at all. He reminds them of a well-known rabbinic saying, which the Savior Himself quoted more than once: love your neighbor as yourself, and you may consider that you have fulfilled the Torah (v. 14). Freedom in our world, not yet transformed, is only a potential; it can be used for good or for evil. In the Kingdom, however, freedom is not only a possibility but its realization, the embodiment of love that every relationship in the Kingdom becomes, if it truly belongs to the Kingdom. It is no accident that the apostle speaks of love as the only right use of freedom and, for Christians, the only possible use of freedom (v. 13). He calls the Galatian Christians to the simplest and at the same time most difficult thing: to life in the Kingdom, to walking by the Spirit (vv. 16-17).

The apostle reminds the Galatian church of the same thing he had said more than once to other churches: in love is the whole fullness of the Torah. Love is the very foundation of the Kingdom, the substance that permeates everything there, including all the relationships that bind its inhabitants to God and to one another. The Torah ceases to be a fence protecting from sin; its protective function is no longer needed in the Kingdom. Instead another function appears, one almost unused in our world, which has not yet been fully transformed: it becomes the form that allows the love permeating the Kingdom to take shape and quality. Paul does not list the works of the spirit and the works of the flesh in such detail by accident, setting them against each other (vv. 19-28). He wants to remind his readers that the system of relationships among people forms a definite environment, and that environment can be formed either according to the laws of our world, not yet transformed, or according to the laws of the Kingdom. He calls the Galatian Christians to make the formation of an environment living by the laws of the Kingdom their chief task. This, and not playing religious games, is truly spiritual work, work worthy of the inhabitants of the Kingdom.