Commentary on Galatians 4.1–5.1

… the time appointed by the father. "So we too, when we were children, were enslaved under the elements of the world." By "children" here he means not age but understanding, showing that God wished to grant these things from the beginning, but since we were still in a rather childish state, he left us under the elements of the world, that is, new moons and sabbaths; for these days come to us from the course of the moon and the sun. If, then, they now bring you under the law, they do nothing else than lead you back again from full age, even as time has gone forward. Do you see how great a thing the observance of days is? It puts the lord, the master of the house, the one who rules all, in the rank of a servant. "But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons." He sets down here two causes and achievements of the incarnation: release from evils and the supply of good things, which no one could achieve but he alone. What were these? To be freed from the curse of the law, and to be brought to adoption. "To redeem those under the law," he says, "and that we might receive the adoption." He said well "receive," showing that it was owed. For God had promised it from of old, as he himself showed by many proofs that promises about these things had been made to Abraham. "And how is it clear that we have become sons?" he asks. He gave one way: that we have put on Christ, who is the Son; he gives a second too: that we have received the Spirit of adoption. "And because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, Abba, Father. So you are … an heir of God through Christ." For we could not have called him Father, unless we had first been made sons. If, then, grace made us free instead of slaves, mature instead of children, heirs and sons instead of strangers, how is it not absurd and the height of ingratitude to leave it and turn back? "Formerly, when you did not know God, you were enslaved to beings that by nature are not gods; but now that you have come to know God, or rather to be known by God, how can you turn back again to the weak and beggarly elements, to which you wish to be enslaved all over again?" Here, addressing those who believed from the Gentiles, he says that this too, the keeping of the observance of days, is idolatry, and that it brings greater punishment now. That is why he called the elements "beings that by nature are not gods," wishing to establish this very point and to throw them into greater anxiety. What he means is something like this: "Then you were in darkness, living in error and dragging along the ground; but now, when you have come to know God, or rather been known by him, how will you not draw upon yourselves a greater and more grievous punishment, if after so much care you fall sick of the same disease again? For it was not by your own labor that you found God; you were living in error, and he drew you to himself." He calls the elements weak and beggarly because they have no power toward the good things set before us. "You observe days and months and seasons and years." From this it is clear that those men preached to them not only circumcision but also the feasts and the new moons. "… for you." Do you see the apostle's tender heart? They were shaken, and he trembles and fears. That is why he says, very earnestly, "… for you," as if he said, "Do not make my sweat of labor empty." By saying "I fear" and adding "lest," he both threw them into anxiety and brought them to good hopes. For he did not say, "I have labored in vain," but "lest somehow." "This shipwreck has not yet happened," he says, "but I see the storm still in labor with it. That is why I fear; yet I have not despaired; for you have it in your power to set everything right and return to your former calm." Then, as if stretching out a hand to men caught in a storm, he brings himself forward, saying, "Become as I am, for I also have become as you are." This is said to those from the Jews. That is why he brings himself forward, persuading them by this too to depart from the old things. "Even if you had no one else as an example, it would be enough to look at me alone to make this change and take courage easily. Look closely, then: for I too once felt these things, and burned exceedingly for the law; yet afterward I was not afraid to leave the law or to change from that way of life. And you know this clearly, with what great excess I clung to Judaism, and with what greater vehemence I left it afterward." And he did well to put this later. For most people, even if they find countless arguments, and just ones, are drawn rather by one of their own kind, and when they see him doing the same things, they cling to them the more. "Brothers, I beg you, you have done me no wrong." See how he again addresses them by the name of honor; this was also a reminder of grace. For since he had touched them sharply, and compared matters from every side, and shown that they were acting unlawfully, and struck them from many directions, he relaxes again … For just as constant rebuking hardens, so constant soothing makes men slack. That is why it is good to use moderation everywhere. See, then, how he defends himself to them for what he has said, showing that he said what he said not simply from hostility but from care. For since he had made a deeper incision, he now pours in this consolation like oil. And showing that what was said was not from hatred or enmity, he reminds them of the love they had shown toward him, and sets down his defense with praises. [2] That is why he says: "I beg you, you have done me no wrong. You know that it was because of a weakness of the flesh that I preached the gospel to you; and you did not despise my trial in my flesh." "It is not yet a great thing not to have done wrong; though not even an ordinary man would have wished to harm someone who had done him no wrong, and to grieve him idly and in vain. But you not only did me no wrong, but showed great and ineffable goodwill; and it is not possible that one who has enjoyed such attention should say these things from ill will. So I do not say them from hostility; it remains that it is from affection and care." "I beg you, you have done me no wrong. You know that it was because of a weakness of the flesh that I preached the gospel to you." Nothing is gentler than that holy soul, nothing sweeter or more affectionate. So neither were the former words from irrational anger or passion of soul, but from great care. "And why do I say, you did me no wrong? Rather you showed great and genuine zeal for us. For you know," he says, "that it was because of a weakness of the flesh that I preached the gospel to you, and you did not despise or spit at my trial in my flesh." What is it that he means? "I endured … while preaching to you, and not even so did you despise me." For this is the meaning of "you did not despise or spit at my trial in my flesh." Do you see spiritual understanding? For under the guise of a defense he again shames them, showing how much he suffered for them. "Yet none of this offended you," he says, "nor did you spit at me because of the sufferings and the persecutions"; for it is these he calls weakness and trial. "But you received me as an angel of God." How, then, is it not absurd to receive one who is persecuted and driven out as an angel of God, but not to receive him when he exhorts you to what is right? "What, then, has become of your blessedness? For I bear you witness that, if possible, you would have plucked out your eyes and given them to me. Have I then become your enemy by telling you the truth?" He seeks to learn the cause of the change. "Who has deceived you," he says, "and persuaded you to be otherwise disposed toward us? Are you not the ones who cherished and served me and held me dearer than your eyes? What, then, has happened? Where does the enmity come from, where the suspicion? Because I told you the truth? For this you ought to have honored and served me the more; but now I have become your enemy by telling you the truth. For I know no other cause," he says, "than that I told you the truth." And see with what humility he defends himself. For he shows that it is impossible for these things to be said from ill will, not from what he had shown toward them, but from what they had shown toward him. For he did not speak thus: "And how is it possible that one who was scourged, driven out, who suffered countless things for you, should now be plotting against you?" but he draws his reasoning from what they could take pride in, saying: "How is it possible that one who was honored by you, who was received as an angel, should repay you with the opposite?" "They make much of you, but not rightly; they want to shut you out, so that you may make much of them." For there is a good zeal, when one is zealous so as to imitate virtue; and there is an evil zeal, aimed at casting out of virtue the one who achieves it; which is what these men are now attempting, wishing to cast you out of the perfect knowledge and to lead you into a mutilated and spurious one, for no other reason than that they themselves may sit in the rank of teachers, and that you, who are now higher than they, may be put in the rank of disciples. He showed this by saying, "so that you may make much of them." "But I want the opposite," he says, "that you should be better than they and become an example for those more perfect; which indeed was the case when I was with you." That is why he goes on to say: "It is good to be made much of in a good thing always, and not only when I am present with you." Here he hints that this is a blessed thing: for disciples to have the right mind not only when the teacher is present but also when he is absent; but since they had not yet reached this perfection, he does everything to bring them up to it. "My little children, for whom I am again in labor until Christ is formed in you." See him troubled, see him disturbed. "My brothers, I beg you"; "My little children, for whom I am again in labor until Christ is formed in you." Did you see a father's heart? Did you see dejection worthy of an apostle? Did you see what a wailing he uttered, much sharper than that of women in childbirth? "You have corrupted the image," he says; "you have lost the kinship; you have changed the form; you need another regeneration and refashioning." Yet even so he does not say it in this way, but otherwise; for he spares them and does not wish to strike them, nor to lay wounds upon wounds. But as wise physicians do not heal all at once those who have fallen into a long illness, but little by little, so too this blessed man. For these pangs are sharper than those of the body, inasmuch as the affection is greater, and the sin was no ordinary one. [3] For, as I always say and will not stop saying, even a small transgression has wiped out the whole likeness and spoiled the form. "I wish I could be present with you now and change my tone." See his impatience, his ardor, his inability to contain such things. Such is love: it is not content with words, but seeks presence too. "So as to change my voice," he says, that is, to change it into lament, to shed tears, and to turn everything into mourning. For through a letter it was not possible to show tears or wailing; that is why he burns with longing to be present. "For I am perplexed about you." "For I do not know," he says, "what to say, I do not know what to think. How is it that you, who ascended to the very summit of heaven, both through the dangers you endured for the faith and through the signs you displayed through faith, have now all at once been carried down to such cheapness as to hang on circumcision?" That is why at the beginning he said, "I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting"; and here, "I am perplexed about you"; as if he said, "What shall I say? What shall I speak? What shall I think? I am at a loss; therefore I must wail," which is what the prophets too do in their perplexities. This too is no small kind of healing, not only to counsel but also to lament. He said this too when speaking to the Milesians: "For three years I did not cease to admonish you with tears." And he says the same here too, saying, "to change my voice." For in the perplexities and helplessness that come upon us contrary to hope, we are overcome and are carried at last to tears. Since, then, he had rebuked and shamed and healed again, he then lamented; and lamentation belongs not only to rebuke but also to gentleness. For it neither roughens like rebuke nor slackens like soothing, but is a mixed remedy, and has great strength for exhortation. Since, then, he had lamented and softened their minds and drawn them more strongly, he enters the contest again, setting forth a greater main point, showing that the law itself does not wish to be kept. Earlier he brought in the example from Abraham; now he brings in the law itself exhorting them not to keep it but to withdraw from it, which was stronger. "So if you wish to obey the law," he says, "depart from it; for this is what it wishes." But he does not say it so, but otherwise: "Tell me," he says, "you who wish to be under the law, do you not hear the law?" He said well, "you who wish"; for the matter came not from the sequence of events but from their untimely contentiousness. By "law" here he means the book of creation, as he often does, naming the whole Old Testament so. "For it is written that Abraham had two sons, one …" Again he goes up to Abraham, not repeating himself, but since the patriarch's glory was great among the Jews, he shows that the types took their beginning from there, and that present things were sketched out beforehand in him. And having first shown that they are sons of Abraham, since the patriarch's sons were not of the same dignity, but one was from the slave woman and the other from the free woman, he shows next that they are not only sons, but sons in the way the free and well-born son was. So great is the power of faith. "But the son of the slave woman was born according to the flesh, the son of the free woman through promise." What is "according to the flesh"? Since he had said that faith joins us to Abraham, and it seemed incredible to his hearers that he should call those who were not born of him his sons, he shows that this paradox happened from the beginning. For Isaac, who was born not according to the sequence of nature, nor according to the law of marriage, nor according to the power of the flesh, was both a son and a genuine one, sprung from dead bodies and from that womb. For it was not the flesh that brought about the conception, nor the seed the birth (for the womb was dead, both through age and through barrenness), but the word of God fashioned him. Not so with the slave woman's son; he was born by the bonds of nature and the custom of marriage. Yet the one not born according to the flesh was more honored than the one born according to the flesh. "Do not be troubled, then, that you were not born according to the flesh; for this above all makes you his kin, that you were not born according to the flesh. For this 'according to the flesh' makes people not more honorable but less; the birth not according to the flesh is more wonderful and more spiritual." This is clear from those born of old. For Ishmael was born according to the flesh, but he was a slave; and not only this, but he was also cast out of his father's house. But Isaac, born according to promise, being a son and free, was lord of all. "These things are said allegorically." He called the type an allegory, using the word loosely. What he means is this: this history not only shows what appears, but also proclaims some other things; that is why it is called an allegory. What did it proclaim? Nothing else than all the present things. "For these are the two covenants," he says, "one from Mount Sinai, bearing children for slavery, which is Hagar." "These": who? The mothers of those children, Sarah and Hagar. What are "two covenants"? Two laws. But since the names in the history were those of women, he kept to the title of their gender, and shows great consistency even from the names. How from the names? "For Hagar is Mount Sinai in Arabia," he says. The slave woman was called Hagar, and Mount Sinai is so called in the local language there.

So all who are born of the Old Covenant must be slaves. For that mountain where the Old Covenant was given, having the same name as the slave woman, takes in Jerusalem too; for this is the meaning of "it corresponds to the present Jerusalem," that is, it borders on it and touches it. "For she is in slavery with her children." What follows from this? That not only was she a slave and bore slaves, but this too, the covenant, of which the slave woman is a type. For Jerusalem lies near the mountain that bears the same name as the slave woman, and on this mountain the covenant was given. Where, then, is the type of Sarah? "But the Jerusalem above is free." So those born of her are not slaves. Of the Jerusalem below the type was Hagar, as is clear from the mountain so called; of the one above, the church. Yet he is not content with the types, but adds Isaiah too as a witness to what he has said. For having said, "The Jerusalem above is our mother," and having called the church so, he brings forward the prophet casting the same vote as he: "Rejoice, O barren one who does not bear; break forth and cry aloud, you who are not in labor; for the children of the desolate one are more than those of her who has a husband." Who, then, is the barren one, and who the one formerly desolate? Is it not clear that it is the church from the Gentiles, which had been deprived of the knowledge of God? And who is she who has the husband? Is it not clear that it is the synagogue? Yet the barren one surpassed her in the number of her children. For the one holds a single nation, but the children of the church have filled Greece and the barbarian lands, the earth and the sea, the whole inhabited world. Do you see how Sarah by deeds and the prophet by words sketched out beforehand the things to come for us? And consider: Isaiah called her barren and showed that she became the mother of many children. This happened in type with Sarah too; for she also, though barren, became the mother of a multitude of descendants. But even this does not suffice Paul; he also looks into how the barren woman became a mother, so as to bring the type into line with the reality from this point too. That is why he goes on to say: "Now we, brothers, like Isaac, are children of promise." For the church was not only barren like Sarah, nor did she only become the mother of many like her, but she also bore in the same way as Sarah. For just as it was not nature that made Sarah a mother but the promise of God (for he who said, "At this season I will come, and Sarah shall have a son," entered her womb and formed the child), so too in our regeneration nature has no part, but the words of God spoken by the priest, which the faithful know, these, in the pool of waters as in a womb, form and regenerate the one who is baptized. If, then, we are children of the barren one, we are also free. "And what sort of freedom is this," someone might say, "when the Jews arrest and scourge those who have believed, and those who seem to be free are persecuted?" For this was happening then, as the believers were being persecuted. "Let not this trouble you either," he says; "for this too was anticipated in the type. For Isaac, though free, was persecuted by the slave Ishmael." That is why he goes on to say: "But just as at that time the one born according to the flesh persecuted the one born according to the Spirit, so it is now also. But what does the Scripture say? Cast out the slave woman and her son; for the son of the slave woman shall not inherit with the son of the free woman." What then? Is the whole consolation this, that the free are shown to be persecuted by the slaves? "No," he says, "I do not stop there; hear what follows, and then you will receive comfort enough not to lose heart under persecution." What, then, follows? "Cast out the son of the slave woman; for he shall not inherit with the son of the free woman." Do you see the wages of a temporary tyranny and of untimely arrogance? The boy falls from his father's inheritance and becomes an exile and a wanderer with his mother. But see, I pray, the wisdom of what is said. He did not say only, "Since he persecuted, he was therefore cast out," but "so that he may not inherit." For God did not exact this from him as the penalty for a temporary persecution (that would have been small and nothing in comparison), but he did not allow him to become a sharer in what had been prepared for the son, showing that even apart from the persecution this had been marked out from of old, taking its beginning not from the persecution but from the purpose of God. And he did not say, "the son of Abraham shall not inherit," but "the son of the slave woman," naming him from the meaner side of his descent. But Sarah was barren; and so is the church from the Gentiles. Do you see the type kept throughout? For just as she did not bear in all the years before, and became a mother in extreme old age, so too the church bears when the fullness of time has come. This too the prophets proclaimed beforehand, saying, "Rejoice, O barren one who does not bear; break forth and cry aloud, you who are not in labor; for the children of the desolate one are more than those of her who has a husband," calling the church so. For she had not known God; yet, when she came to know him, she surpassed the synagogue with its many children. "So, brothers, we are not children of the slave woman but of the free woman." He moves and turns all these things over, wishing to show that what had happened was not recent, but had been sketched out from of old and many ages before. How, then, is it not absurd that those who were marked out so many ages before and have obtained freedom should willingly bring themselves under the yoke of slavery? Then he sets down another reason too that persuades them to abide by the doctrines: "For freedom," he says, "Christ has set us free." "Did you set yourselves free, that you now run back to your former masters? It is he who redeemed you; another gave the price for you." Do you see by how many arguments he leads them away from the Jewish error? First, by showing that it is the height of folly for those who have become free instead of slaves to desire to be slaves instead of free; second, that they will be shown to be ungrateful and thankless toward their benefactor, … ; third, that this is not even possible, for the law no longer holds the mastery, since another has once bought us all from it. "Stand firm, then …

… by saying this he showed their tossing. "And do not submit again to a yoke of slavery." By the name of yoke he shows them the heaviness of the thing; by saying "again," he shows their great insensibility. "If you had been without experience of that burden, you would not deserve such charges; but you who learned by experience how heavy the yoke is, and then put yourselves under it again, what pardon could you justly obtain?" "Look, I, Paul, say to you that if you receive circumcision, Christ will be of no benefit to you." See how great the threat is. With reason, then, did he anathematize even angels. How will Christ be of no benefit to them? He himself did not argue this but declared it, as if the trustworthiness of his person sufficed from now on instead of any proof (that is why he said beforehand, "Look, I, Paul, say to you," which was the mark of one confident in what he says); but we will add what we can of our own. How will Christ be of no benefit to the one who is circumcised? The one who is circumcised is circumcised because he fears the law; the one who fears it distrusts the power of grace; and the one who distrusts it gains nothing from what he distrusts. Again, in another way: the one who is circumcised makes the law sovereign; and thinking it sovereign, and transgressing it in the greater part while keeping it in the lesser, he puts himself under the curse; and having thrust away the freedom that comes from faith, how can he be saved? For if one may say something paradoxical, this man believes neither in Christ nor in the law, but stands in the middle, wishing to gain from both sides; and therefore he will reap nothing from either. Then, having said, "will be of no benefit," he sets out the proof obscurely and in few words, saying: "I testify again to every man who receives circumcision that he is a debtor to keep the whole law." "So that you may not think these things are said out of enmity," he says, "I say this not to you only but to every man who receives circumcision, that he is a debtor to fulfill the whole law; for the ordinances of the law hang together. And just as one who has had himself registered as a slave instead of free no longer does what he wishes but is held by all the laws of slavery, so too with the law: when you take on some small part of the law and put yourself under the yoke, you have drawn upon yourself its whole mastery." So it is with an inheritance from outside the family too: one who has touched nothing is free of all the obligations attached to the estate of the deceased; but if he lays his hand on some small part, even if he does not take the whole, he has made himself liable for everything through the part. This happens with the law too, not only in the way I have said but in another; for the ordinances of the law hang together. For example: circumcision has sacrifice yoked with it, and the observance of days; sacrifice in turn requires the keeping of both a day and a place; and the place brings with it countless kinds of purification. For it is not lawful for the unclean to sacrifice, nor to enter the holy sanctuary, nor to do anything else of the kind. So the law draws many things after it even through one commandment. If, then, you are circumcised, but not on the eighth day; or on the eighth day, but there is no sacrifice; or there is sacrifice, but not in the appointed place; or in the appointed place, but not with the prescribed offerings; or with the prescribed offerings, but you are not clean; or you are clean, but not purified by the proper ordinances: all those things are lost. That is why he says, "he is a debtor to fulfill the whole law." "If the law is sovereign, fulfill not a part but the whole; but if it is not sovereign, not even a part." "You are severed from Christ, you who are justified by the law; you have fallen away from grace." Since he had established his point, he now declares the danger too, at the very edge of the precipice. For when one who runs to the law cannot be saved by it, and has fallen away from grace, what remains but inexorable punishment, since the one is powerless and the other will not admit him?