Paul’s first highly paradoxical statement has left many commentators perplexed. What does through the law I died to the law mean? In Greek, Paul uses “†law” here without the definite article (“the”), which opens the way to various interpretations. Fortunately, the key to Paul’s paradoxical statement is found in its immediate context: I have been crucified with Christ. Paul has died to the law of Moses through the law because he was crucified with Christ. Christ actually died, and he died “through the law,” in the sense that his death came as a result of a legal condemnation (see John 19:7).5 At the same time, he died “to the law,” because the law has no more power over a dead person, especially if that person possesses a new life that is no longer earthly and is therefore completely removed from the jurisdiction of the law (Rom 7:1). This is precisely the case of the risen Christ, who “lives for God” (Rom 6:10). So Paul died to the law when he died and rose with Christ in baptism (Rom 6:3–8).6
Paul’s death to the law of Moses is shared only by other Jewish believers who, like Paul, were previously subject to the law of Moses (Rom 7:1–4). However, every Christian, Jew and †Gentile alike, has been united to Christ’s death on the cross through †faith and baptism (see Rom 6:3–5) in order to live for God in union with the risen Christ (see Rom 6:8–10). Later in the letter Paul will return to explain the role of the law of Moses in salvation history (Gal 3:15–4:7) and then to explain the Christian’s rule of life in place of the law (5:13–25).
“I have been crucified with Christ.” What a bold declaration! It demonstrates the strongest bond with Christ, a warm and personal identification with him (see also Phil 3:7–11). At the same time it expresses a dual conviction: (1) believers have in a real sense died and been raised with Christ in baptism (Rom 6:2–5, 11; Col 2:12), and (2) this event goes beyond the bounds of historical chronology and is an ever-present reality. Paul uses the verb in the perfect tense, which in Greek expresses the enduring result of a past action: I was crucified, and I still am. This corresponds to the concrete situation of believers. As we continue to †live on earth, Christ’s passion is being actualized in our lives, which in turn affects our participation in the life of the risen Christ. Paul refers to this dynamism in 2 Cor 4:11: “We who live are constantly being given up to death for the sake of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may be manifested in our mortal flesh.”
[2:20]
The believer’s participation in the life of the risen Jesus is already present: I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me. This statement completes the perspective. Paul, who says he has undergone death (v. 19), clarifies that now he lives, but he lives as risen from the dead. Having died to his own self, his own ego, he is made alive by Christ. The death to himself is simultaneous to his death to the †law and shows that his break with the law is not to be understood as opening the way to egoism and license. On the contrary, it is a matter of renouncing oneself to make room for the life of Christ, a life of generous love (Rom 7:4).
Paul’s affirmation that “Christ lives in me” introduces a claim that is completely new. Paul is saying that one person, Christ, lives in another, the believer, in such a real way that the life of the believer should be attributed to Christ rather than to the believer.
The statement that follows allows us to enter more deeply into this mystery, as Paul tries to define the believer’s situation more precisely. At first Paul says, “It is no longer I who live” (NRSV). Then he adjusts this statement, acknowledging that his (and our) mortal existence on earth is not ended: Insofar as I now live in the flesh. By “†flesh” Paul refers to the human condition with its limitations and weaknesses, a difficult existence that is exposed to temptation, suffering, and death. Paul has said, “Christ lives in me.” Now he clarifies this affirmation too, saying, I live by faith in the Son of God. We can understand now in what manner Christ takes possession of Paul’s life. It is not a question of a violent occupation and control of another person’s personality, which is what occurs in demon-possessed people. It is also not a question of a state of inspiration described by various authors, be they pagans like Plato or Jews like Philo of Alexandria, in which a person temporarily comes under the influence of a divine spirit. Paul speaks elsewhere of the mystical ecstasies he has experienced (see 2 Cor 12:1–4). What he says here, however, is not confined to privileged moments but entails his whole earthly life. By means of †faith, the life of Christ permeates Paul. Christ does not impose himself on Paul but makes his divine life available to Paul, inviting a response of faith. The absolute trustworthiness of the Son of God opens up for Paul the possibility of a life of faith, which is the life of Christ in him and his life in Christ, a marvelous reciprocal interiority. Jesus’ farewell discourse in the Gospel of John has much to say about this mutual indwelling.7 Faith does not present itself as a mere assent of the mind to certain truths, but as the surrender of one’s whole being to the person of Christ (see the sidebar, “What Does Paul Mean by ‘Faith’?,” p. 100).
The end of Paul’s sentence provides the foundation for everything. His faith and ours is founded on the trustworthiness of the Son of God, who has loved me and has given himself up for me (literally, “handed himself over for me”). There are two reasons that Christ is a secure foundation for faith: on the one hand, his infinite greatness and power as the Son of God; on the other, the extreme love he has shown toward us. Christ’s love for us was demonstrated in his passion; his divine sonship was fully manifested in his resurrection (see Rom 1:4).
Paul’s wording draws upon earlier teaching from the apostolic tradition. His affirmation is similar to the one in Gal 1:4, which combined two traditional ways of speaking about Jesus’ death: Christ’s death “for our sins” (1 Cor 15:3) and Jesus’ words about the Son of Man coming to “give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). Here, however, Paul introduces two important changes. Above all, Paul has personalized the affirmation. Instead of saying, “for our sins” or “for many,” he says, “for me.” This singular “me” was included in the plural “many,” so the statement contains no new information. Its expressive value, however, is quite different. Instead of a general statement of fact about the significance of Jesus’ death, we find a direct expression of a personal relationship that cannot be reduced to an abstraction. The result is a paradox: Who could have ever imagined that the Son of God could give himself up for me, a mere man and a sinner at that?
The paradox is reinforced by the second change in Paul’s choice of words. In this sentence Paul does not use the verb “give” (Greek didōmi) as in Gal 1:4 and Mark 10:45, but he uses “give up” (paradidōmi), which means to “hand over” or “deliver” a person to his or her enemies. There are numerous Old Testament passages in which God “delivers” his people to their enemies in order to punish them for their unfaithfulness (Judg 2:14; 6:1, 13; 13:1). Paul’s use of paradidōmi aptly characterizes the passion. Judas “handed over” Jesus to the Jews (Matt 26:15, 45); the Jews “handed him over to Pilate” (Matt 27:2); Pilate in the end “handed him over to be crucified” (Matt 27:26). The same verb is found in Isaiah’s great prophecy about the servant of the Lord: he was “handed over because of their sins” (Isa 53:12 †LXX). Despite these precedents, Paul’s wording is original since he makes the statement reflexive: rather than being given over, Christ gave himself over to his own enemies to be mocked, mistreated, and put to death. He did all this “for me,” Paul says. What unfathomable depths of generosity! What a mystery!
The key to the mystery lies in another affirmation that appears for the first time here in the writings of the New Testament: Christ’s breathtaking initiative is a manifestation of love. The synoptic Gospels do not make this motivation explicit as Paul does.8 The past tense of “who has loved me” raises the question, Why does Paul not use the present tense and say “the Son of God who loves me” (see Rev 1:5)? The reason is in the connection between “has loved” and “has given himself up.” Paul is referring to the concrete past event in which the Son of God f
ully manifested his love: his death on the cross.
There is one more element that is new in what Paul declares here. While 1 Cor 15:3 speaks of Christ dying for sins, and Matthew and Mark speak of the Son of Man giving his life as a ransom (Matt 20:28; Mark 10:45), here Paul attributes this initiative of love to the Son of God, a title that expresses the identity of Jesus in his profound and mysterious relationship with the Father.9 This is precisely the way Christ was revealed to Paul at his conversion on the road to Damascus (see Gal 1:16). This act of love of which the Apostle now speaks is even more impressive: “The Son of God . . . gave himself for me” (author’s translation). What disproportion there is in this exchange! What certainty we can have about its efficacy! What the Son of God has done is decisive for Paul’s life and for everyone who will accept this gift.
[2:21]
After this stupendous sentence (vv. 19–20), Paul adds a quick, sharp conclusion that brings us back to the controversy. In it he combines a spontaneous personal declaration—I do not nullify the grace of God—and a new argument—if justification comes through the law, then Christ died for nothing.
“The †grace of God” is the freely given favor of God offered to us in the mystery of Christ’s passion, which Paul has just spoken of. Through the redemptive love of his Son, God offers us the free gift of †justification. To seek justification in any other way constitutes disdain for this free gift, and therefore nullifies it. What unthinkable ingratitude! Paul rejects this idea absolutely.
Once again Paul speaks paradoxically: he denies that justification, the establishment of justice, comes through the †law. In the everyday world of human affairs, justice is established through law, but when it comes to our standing before God, law is of no help. We are sinners, and the law is incapable of making us just. The only solution is Christ’s death for our sins. Whoever, on the contrary, claims that the law is necessary for justifying us before God empties Christ’s death of its efficacy. The monstrous absurdity of this consequence demonstrates with glaring clarity how indefensible the position of the †Judaizers is.
Paul concludes here the first part of his letter. This section was primarily intended as a defense of his †gospel by means of autobiographical arguments. The Apostle, however, was not able to restrain himself from beginning his theological argument in these final verses, anticipating the second part of the letter, which is devoted to doctrine.
The principal affirmation of the first part of the letter (1:11–2:21) concerned a fundamental truth: the divine origin of the gospel Paul preached. The Apostle’s proclamation was transmitted to him not through human teaching but through a revelation he received of Jesus Christ the Son of God. To establish that point, Paul presented his vocation as a continuation of that of the prophets (1:15) and showed the independence of his apostolate from that of the Twelve (1:16–24). Then he told how his apostolate was officially recognized by the Church authorities in Jerusalem (2:1–10) and also how he boldly defended the practices of his gospel in the face of Cephas’s accommodation to the Judaizers (2:11–14). Finally, Paul laid out for the first time the content of his gospel, using the language of justification (2:15–21). The works required by the law of Moses are not able to render sinners righteous. The only solution is to accept by †faith God’s gift of justification founded on Christ’s death for sinners.
Reflection and Application (2:19–21)
Ignorance of the gospel. The Christians of Galatia are not the only ones to get confused about the content of the gospel. Peter Kreeft, a professor of philosophy at Boston College, writes about the ignorance of many Catholics about how we are saved.
The life of God comes into us by faith, through us by hope, and out of us by the works of love. . . . But many Catholics still have not learned this thoroughly Catholic and biblical doctrine. They think we’re saved by good intentions, or being nice, or sincere, or trying a little harder, or doing a sufficient number of good deeds.10
Dr. Kreeft has asked hundreds of his students this pointed question: “If you should die tonight and God asks you why he should let you into heaven, what would you answer?” His findings? “The vast majority of them simply don’t know the right answer to this, the most important of all questions, the very essence of Christianity. They usually don’t even mention Jesus!”11 Ralph Martin comments:
In our efforts toward evangelization, we must be clear on the content and substance of the gospel message, or else the means chosen and the results obtained will be quite ambiguous. While programs, plans and processes of evangelization are important, clarity of content is indispensable. What has been revealed to us about what it means to be a Christian? What is the truth that God wants us to communicate to others? In short, what is the gospel message?12
The basis of our justification.13 To justify sinners means not only to forgive their sins but also to make them truly righteous before God. The Apostle explains that the only way to obtain this justification is by faith in Jesus. Keeping the law is not enough to transform a sinner into a righteous person, because the law is unable to change a person’s deeply wounded interior life.
The law can command only from outside. However, the grace of Christ works in the intimate interior of a human being, bringing him or her to righteousness and holiness before God. For this reason the Apostle can say, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me; and the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (2:20 RSV).
The certainty of Christ’s love for me. No matter how often people say, “Jesus loves you,” or “Christ died for you,” it is not uncommon for a person to wonder deep down whether that statement is really true. It is easier to imagine that Christ loves humanity and died for the sins of the world than to believe that he died for me. Or a person may accept this truth in theory but find it hard to grasp its personal significance. St. Paul’s extraordinary testimony in 2:20 can help, if we invite the Holy Spirit to enlighten our hearts. Paul has come to realize that Jesus’ death on the cross was not just for humanity as a whole but rather was a voluntary offering of Christ’s life for him personally despite his grave sins (1 Cor 15:9; Gal 1:13; 1 Tim 1:15), and not only for him, but for every person who has ever lived. Because he is the infinite Son of God who knew us before we were born, he was able to offer himself for each one of us. When we are tempted to wonder whether Christ really loves us, the place to look is not inside ourselves to feelings that come and go, but rather beyond ourselves to the cross of Christ, the irrefutable proof of Jesus’ love for you and me. Christ’s words at the Last Supper, repeated in the Eucharist, are properly understood as addressed personally to each of us: “Take this, all of you, and eat of it, for this is my Body, which will be given up for you.” Our response is equally personal: “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.”
1. Other biblical texts use similar language (see 1 Macc 2:48; Matt 26:45; Eph 2:12); Paul explains the situation of the Gentiles at some length in Rom 1:18–32. Nevertheless, the traditional Jewish understanding was not a complete perspective, as Peter discovered (Acts 10:34–35) and as Paul teaches (Rom 2:14–16).
2. Acts 2:38; 5:31; 10:43; 13:38; see also Luke 24:47.
3. Paul’s change from a first-person plural in v. 17 to a first-person singular in v. 18 makes the logic harder to follow. Paul is referring to Peter and himself in v. 17 when he speaks of seeking justification in Christ. Then he uses “I” in a generic sense in v. 18, illustrating his point by his example.
Some interpreters do not think that Paul is continuing to refer to Peter’s behavior in these two verses. According to them, the first-person singular of v. 18 may indicate that in these two verses Paul has moved on from an account of the Antioch incident and is now speaking of Jewish Christians in general, including himself.
4. See Douglas J. Moo for a somewhat different view: “Jewish-Christians object that discarding the law means that they will be c
onsidered just like ‘Gentile sinners’ (see v. 15) and that Christ will therefore, in effect, be promoting sin. Paul strenuously rejects any such notion (v. 17b), arguing that it is only if the law is reestablished as a standard of right conduct (as Peter implicitly did at Antioch) that Jewish-Christians who no longer follow it could be truly considered sinners (v. 18). What Jewish-Christians need to do is imitate Paul, who, in order truly to live for God, has replaced his attachment to the law with an attachment to Christ (vv. 19–20)” (Galatians, BECNT [Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2013], Kindle loc. 4224).
5. Some suggest instead that Christ’s death was “through the law” in that it was a voluntary acceptance of the law’s just penalty for the sins of the human race.
6. Paul addresses this subject in a more understandable way in Rom 7:1–4.
7. John 14:15–21, 23; 15:1–11; 17:20–23, 26.
8. Christ’s motive for his death on the cross, his love, is explicitly spoken of later in the Johannine writings (see John 13:1; 15:13; 1 John 3:16; Rev 1:5).
9. Of course, the synoptic Gospels also acknowledge Jesus as the Son of God (e.g., Matt 27:54; Mark 1:1; Luke 1:35).
10. Peter Kreeft, “Luther, Faith, and Good Works,” National Catholic Register, November 10, 1991, 8.
11. Peter Kreeft, “Protestants Bring Personal Touch to the Life of Faith,” National Catholic Register, April 24, 1994, 1, 7.
12. This reflection is from “What Is Our Message?,” in John Paul II and the New Evangelization, ed. Ralph Martin and Peter S. Williamson (Cincinnati: St. Anthony Messenger, 2006), 18.
13. This reflection is taken from Cardinal Albert Vanhoye, Le letture bibliche delle Domeniche, Anno C (Rome: Apostolato della Preghiera, 2014), 216.
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