Sermon

[Galatians 2:15-21] How the Gospel Demolishes the Self and Rebuilds a Life

How the Gospel Demolishes the Self and Rebuilds a Life

Galatians 2:15–21 — English translation of the Chinese sermon manuscript

Introduction

A few days ago I visited a number of different cities in China, and my impression was that China’s building programme is now more or less finished.

It is basically high-rise towers everywhere, and you rarely see a run-down house any more with a “demolition order” pasted on the outside wall.

In fact, every one of us has a “high-rise tower of the self” under construction.

Some people use career achievements as the foundation, some use moral character as the walls, some use religious devotion as the roof, and some use other people’s approval as the exterior decoration.

We never stop building, decorating, renovating and reinforcing, all in an attempt to prove to the world around us (and to ourselves): “I am a person of worth.”

But in today’s passage the apostle Paul announces the most subversive “demolition order” in human history.

He says: that tower must be completely torn down.

Not renovated, not reinforced, but pulled up by the roots.

That is what it means to be “crucified with Christ”.

And then what?

Not to rebuild a “better self”, but to let Christ become our new life.

This is the message of Galatians 2:15–21.

This is why I often say to you: the gospel is not “self-improvement”, but “the death and resurrection of the self”.

Modern secular culture tells us, “Do everything you can to become your true self”; moralism tells us, “You must become a better version of yourself”; but the gospel says, “You must die to yourself, and then Christ lives in you.”

So you can see that the gospel is not some kind of psychological self-actualisation.

The gospel speaks of a cosmic reversal of identity: you are no longer you.

Galatians 2:20 is the most concentrated statement in the whole Bible about “Christian identity”.

Today we are going to demolish together the lie of “justification by works of the law”, and rebuild the foundation of “justification by faith in Christ”.

The apostle Paul wrote Galatians because at that time the churches in Galatia were being unsettled by the “Judaizers”.

Those Jewish Christians said, “Believing in Jesus is not enough; you must also be circumcised and keep the law of Moses in order to be saved.”

Earlier, in Galatians 2:11–14, Paul tells us that at Antioch he opposed Peter (Cephas) to his face.

For before certain Jews arrived, Peter had been eating together with the Gentiles; but once those Jews came, Peter drew back and deliberately separated himself from the Gentiles.

And that action implied: unless the Gentiles keep the law, they are not worthy of fellowship with the Jews.

And the passage we are looking at today, Galatians 2:15–21, is the very heart of Paul’s theological argument with Peter (and with all the Galatians).

Paul says: if justification comes only by keeping the law, then Christ died for nothing.

This is not some “minor disagreement” about law and grace; this is a matter of life and death for the gospel itself.

We will look at today’s passage under three headings:

I. The only foundation of justification: faith in Christ, not works of the law (Gal 2:15–16)

II. Demolition and rebuilding: the law leads to death, and death leads to life (Gal 2:17–19)

III. The central declaration: no longer I, but Christ (Gal 2:20–21)

I. The Only Foundation of Justification (Gal 2:15–16)

In verse 15 Paul is in fact speaking with a note of irony: “We who are Jews by birth and not sinful Gentiles.”

In Jewish eyes, “Gentiles” were “sinners” by birth, because they had no law and they worshipped idols.

The Jews, on the other hand, regarded themselves as “the righteous”, because they had the law, they were circumcised, and they were descendants of Abraham.

Paul says, “Very well — even granting that we Jews are not ‘sinful Gentiles’, we still need to be justified.”

And if even the supposedly “superior” Jews cannot be saved by their own works, how much less the Gentiles?

Then in verse 16 Paul says, “a person is not justified by the works of the law, but by faith in Jesus Christ”.

The word “justified” here is a courtroom term; it means “to be declared righteous, to be pronounced not guilty, to be given a legal standing”.

“Justification” is not “God making me into a good person”.

“Justification” is “God declaring that my case is closed, the charge against me has been dropped, and my standing has been changed”.

And “the works of the law” mentioned in this verse does not mean “doing good deeds”; it refers to the whole Mosaic legal system: circumcision, the food laws, the Sabbath, the sacrifices, and so on.

The “Judaizers” said, “You must keep all of this in order to be saved.”

Paul says, “No, no — none of that can do it.”

Why can it not?

Because the purpose of the law is to reveal sin (Rom 3:20), not to remove sin.

The law is like a mirror: it shows up your filth and mine, but it cannot wash away your filth and mine.

So Paul goes on to say, “even we have put our faith in Christ Jesus, so that we may be justified by faith in Christ”.

Notice Paul’s logic here: even we “privileged Jews” must believe in Christ in order to be justified.

That means there are no exceptions, no shortcuts, and no such thing as “long-service benefits for old Christians”.

There was a brother who served for many years in a church back in China — teaching Sunday School, leading a small group, and even taking part in a building project.

In his heart he had a hidden “sense of security”; he felt, “I have done so much; God must surely accept me.”

But Galatians 2:16 shone its light on him, and God let him see this: even if you have done all these “church things”, if you treat them as the foundation of your “justification”, then you are seeking to be “justified by works of the law”.

Your heart will constantly feel uneasy and anxious — not because you have not done enough, but because you have laid your foundation on “sand”.

And so the Holy Spirit reminded him, and led him to say to himself every morning: “I am not justified by my service; I am justified by faith in Christ.

I serve out of thankfulness, not in order to earn grace or other people’s approval.”

Paul then quotes Romans 3:20 to underline the point: “by the works of the law no one will be justified”.

Paul is in fact saying, with absolute finality: zero exceptions.

If you think, “I keep it better than most people do”, that is still not enough.

Because the real standard is flawless perfection.

James 2:10 puts it very plainly: “For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it.”

There was a sister in a church in Taiwan who had grown up from childhood in what we Chinese call the “good child” culture: good marks, filial, never causing trouble.

After she came to faith, she still tried to face God by “performing well”.

Every time she lost her temper, or looked at something she should not have looked at, she felt that “God must be disappointed with me”; and every time she prayed, she was full of guilt.

Later, God used these words in Galatians to remind her: your “justification” never depends on how you perform today, because you could never perform perfectly.

Christ has already completed the work of “justification” for you, once for all.

Losing your temper will not make you “lose your salvation”, but it will damage your intimacy with God; so what you need is repentance, in order to restore the relationship — not in order to earn all over again your standing as a child of God.

Later, when this sister truly grasped this, she was set free.

So then, the only foundation of our justification is faith in Christ, and not works of the law.

II. Demolition and Rebuilding (Gal 2:17–19)

Then in verse 17 Paul says, “If, while we seek to be justified in Christ, we ourselves are still sinners, does that mean that Christ promotes sin?”

This is in fact Paul answering a possible accusation.

Someone might say, “Since you say that people do not need to keep the law, are you not encouraging people to sin?

‘Since justification is free, I may as well sin as I please.’” Paul answers, “Absolutely not!”

Immediately after that, in verse 18, Paul says, “If I rebuild what I once tore down, I prove that I am a lawbreaker.”

What is it that Paul has “torn down” here?

It is the whole system of justification by law.

And if he were to rebuild that system — if, for example, he were to tell the Galatians, “You still need to keep the law” — then Paul himself would be sinning.

Why?

Because it would nullify the grace of Christ.

That is to say: if you have believed in Christ, and then go back to being justified by the law, you are in effect saying, “The death of Christ was not enough; I still have to add a little of my own effort.”

And that is an insult to the cross.

And verse 19, which follows, is almost a condensed version of Romans chapter 7: “For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live for God.”

The role the law plays is that of the “executioner”: it declares that I deserve to die, and I accept that verdict, and so I “die to the law”.

Once a person is dead, the law no longer has any authority to rule over him — just as with a husband and wife, if the husband dies, the marriage law no longer binds the wife.

But the goal of the law is not “death” in itself; it is “living for God”.

The law put me to death in order to release me from the burden of the law, so that I might truly begin to live for God.

This is in fact a theology of “double death”: on the one hand, Christ died in my place and bore the curse of the law; and on the other hand, I died together with Christ, and so the law’s jurisdiction over me has come to an end.

And the result is this: I no longer build my sense of self-worth by “keeping the law” — I have been set free.

So you can see: the law leads to death, and death leads to Christ.

There was an employee in a company who, even after he came to faith, still lived in the mode of “pleasing the boss”.

He would often work overtime late into the night just to get a word of praise.

His sense of worth depended entirely on his boss’s assessment of him.

And Galatians 2:19 let him see this: he was meant to be dead to “human approval”.

God had already accepted him; he no longer needed his boss’s praise in order to be sure of himself.

He could finish work at the normal time and go home to be with his children — and that is not “laziness”, it is “freedom”.

Of course, he still had to work hard, but the motive behind it became “doing it for the Lord”, and not the boss’s compliments.

Through these verses Paul is saying to us today: you and I have already “died to the law”.

That is to say, other people’s expectations and other people’s approval can no longer condemn you and me.

You and I are alive to God.

And that means: if God has accepted us in Christ, that is enough.

So we can begin “not to care” about certain things, and that “not caring” can often help us to pay far more attention to the will of God than to people’s reactions to us.

“Dying to the law and living to God” — this really is a process of demolition and rebuilding.

Demolition: the law leads to death.

Rebuilding: death leads to life.

III. No Longer I, but Christ (Gal 2:20–21)

Verse 20 may well be one of the greatest personal declarations in the whole New Testament, and it is always worth our meditating on it deeply.

“I have been crucified with Christ.”

This does not mean “I crucify my own sin”; it means that we have been united with Christ.

When Christ died on the cross, God placed “me” in Christ: my old self, my self-centredness, my attempts to be justified by the law — every bit of it was nailed to the cross and put to death.

There are several words here that need particular emphasis.

The verb “crucified with” is in the perfect tense in the original, which shows that this has already happened and remains permanently in force.

That means: your “old self” and mine is not in the process of dying — it has already died; it was executed on the cross.

It especially needs to be stressed that the “old self” here refers to our old identity in Adam and to a person under the dominion of sin; it does not mean that our sinful nature has completely disappeared.

As Christians we still live with the remnants of the old self, the flesh; but what we now have to do is to live out the accomplished fact that “I have been crucified with Christ”.

This is in fact far from easy.

That is why even the apostle Paul said that there were “two laws at war” within him, and that he was wretched.

This is why we all need to put our sin to death continually by the Holy Spirit, and not in our own strength.

And that means, for example, that every morning we need to pray, “Lord, today I have no strength, but you are my strength; please live out in me a day that pleases you.”

Next, Paul makes an astonishing declaration: “it is no longer I who live”.

Paul is not saying here, “I have been wiped out”, “I no longer exist”, or “I no longer have a personality”.

What he is saying is this: that “I” which is self-centred and tries to be justified by its own effort no longer holds the sovereignty.

That is to say, my “self” has been replaced: the new centre is Christ, the new power is Christ, the new identity is Christ.

In other words, the foundation of my new identity is no longer “I”, but “Christ”.

Our modern secular culture today says, “Discover yourself, be yourself.”

But the gospel says, “Only by losing yourself will you find your true self” (Matt 16:25).

Why?

Because the “self” is the most well-hidden idol of all.

And what this verse is actually saying is that you and I are not being “erased”; rather, in Christ, you and I become our true “selves” for the very first time (a new creation).

No longer that you and that me who were anxious about our own performance, bound by the idols within, and twisted out of shape by self-justification.

Then Paul declares a mystery of the Christian life: “but Christ lives in me”.

This is not saying that “we imitate Christ”; nor is it merely saying that “we follow the example of Christ”; rather, Christ himself lives out his life through us.

This is something we cannot do in our own strength; he is the one who does it.

Paul then goes on to emphasise, “The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God”.

After we become Christians, we still live each day in this material world; we still have bodies, and all kinds of everyday social responsibilities and family responsibilities.

Christianity is not telling us to leave home and become monks, or to go off to a Daoist temple to practise self-cultivation.

We do not turn into “spiritual ghosts”; at one level we are still living in ordinary life; we are still “living in the body”.

But the way we live has changed: from “keeping the law in my own strength” in the past, to living “by faith, drawing on the life of Christ” — living “by faith in the Son of God”.

And then the last part of verse 20: “who loved me and gave himself for me”.

This is the engine of the whole verse.

Why does Christ live in me?

It is because he loved me and gave himself up for me.

Notice those words “for me”; they show us that the love of Christ is personal, and that it is concrete.

Christ does not simply “love the human race” in the abstract.

He died for you, for me, for particular people like us.

These few precious verses we have before us today have helped who knows how many Christians.

There was once a brother who fell into a very deep self-loathing.

He felt that he “could not do anything well”: his career was ordinary, his temper was bad, his prayers were not fervent, he was not pressing on.

He constantly blamed himself: “I am not worthy to be a Christian.”

And then one Sunday, at a church gathering, God spoke to him directly through a sermon on this verse, Galatians 2:20: “You have already been crucified with Christ!

That question of yours — ‘am I worthy or not’ — has already been put to death.

The one living now is no longer that ‘not doing well’ you, but Christ living in you.

You do not need to measure yourself by your performance at all any more.

And why does Christ live in you?

Because he loves you and gave himself for you.

It is not that you are worthy; it is that he loves you.”

Through the light of God’s word, that brother was afterwards able to say to himself every time he accused himself: “Yes, I am not good enough.

But Christ lives in me.

The me of today is the me that Jesus lives out in me.”

I would say that this is not a “cheap grace” that evades responsibility; rather, it lets a person begin to change for real, out of the security of being accepted.

Coming to our last verse for today, verse 21, which is the final conclusion: “…if righteousness could be gained through the law, Christ died for nothing!”

Paul says: if I could be justified by the law, then in a roundabout way I would be saying, “Christ, your death was superfluous.

I am enough on my own.”

But the cross proves one thing: you and I are simply not enough on our own.

If it could be done through the law, God would not have needed to hand over his own Son for us.

The cross is “the sinless one dying in the place of the sinful”, and this is the heaviest price in human history.

It is in fact a declaration that your sin and mine, the sin of the human race, requires a price as heavy as this.

So any attempt to add works to salvation makes Christ’s death worth nothing.

And this is where the exclusiveness of the gospel lies.

Either all of Christ, or all of you.

There is no “half and half”.

That is to say, if you and I add even the smallest bit of “my own effort”, you and I are in effect denying the whole of “the grace of God”.

I once had a classmate at theological college who said in his testimony that he used to think he was very good at theology, but inwardly he was often proud; he said he always felt, “I understand more than other Christians do; I am more spiritual than they are.”

But he said that this last verse of Galatians chapter 2 broke him: if you use “theological knowledge” to build a so-called spiritual standing, then you are “setting aside the grace of God”; what you are really saying is, “The death of Christ is not enough; my theological achievements have to be added to it.”

Afterwards this classmate of mine came back once again to the gospel itself, and God let him see this: his justification was not because he was a theological student, but because Christ died for him.

He and every other Christian stand on completely equal ground; they are all sinners saved by grace.

So the central declaration of today’s passage is this: no longer I, but Christ.

Conclusion

Now I want to ask us all to use Galatians 2:15–21 to examine our life of faith.

Let us think together about a few gospel questions:

1. What is your “justification” built on? If your answer is “I believe in Christ + I read the Bible and pray + I serve + I don’t commit any big sins”, then you are still living “by works of the law”. That is, the foundation of your faith may well be: Christ + something else. Please do not forget: the gospel is Christ alone.

2. How do you usually react when you fail? If after failing you often feel “abandoned by God”, that shows that your justification is still built on your performance. But what the gospel tells us is this: “I have failed, but I am still a child of God. The righteousness of Christ has not changed. I repent out of love, and not out of fear.”

3. How do you tend to look at other people? If you think, “He is not as spiritual as I am”, then you are still measuring people by the law. The gospel will let you see that you and he are exactly the same: both of you can rely on nothing but the righteousness of Christ. You should no longer look down on others, but reach out a hand of grace to people, to accept them and to build them up.

4. Has your “old self” been put to death? Are you still anxious about your “self-image”? Are you still defining yourself by achievements, relationships, or appearance? If your “self” is still very much alive, very sensitive, and still needs protecting, then my counsel to you is this: you need to come back once more to the foot of the cross and say to that “old self”, “You are dead.”

5. Is Christ living in you? Is your life a matter of “being a Christian by my own effort”, or of “letting Christ live his life out”? The first is exhausting; only the second brings true rest. The first depends on your own willpower; the second depends on faith.

Going from “I” to “Christ” is a journey, not a one-off moment.

That means that every single day you and I have to make a choice, and we have to keep asking ourselves some questions:

When we wake up in the morning: “Who am I living by today? By my own effort? Or by the Son of God?”

When we meet a challenge: “Am I the one carrying it, or is Christ carrying it in me?”

When we succeed: “Is it that I am impressive, or is it the grace of Christ?”

When we fail: “Am I finished, or is Christ still alive?”

Today, you and I may still be living inside our “high-rise tower of the self”.

We keep patching it up and painting it, trying to make “the self” look good enough.

But at the cross God has already told us very clearly: “This tower must be demolished.”

It is not you and I who are demolished, but that “you and I” who seek to be justified by self.

And then Christ comes — not to live in the “house we have decorated”, but to become our life himself.

Self-actualisation versus the death of the self.

You can picture a drowning man grabbing hold of his own hair and trying to pull himself up out of the water; that is what every religion is like.

But the gospel is this: a pair of nail-scarred hands reaching down from above and pulling you and me out of the water.

You and I do not need to hang on to our own hair; you and I only need to let go, and take hold of him.

Paul’s challenge in today’s passage is this: “I do not set aside the grace of God.”

Brothers and sisters, are you going to set it aside today?

Are you going to set it aside by saying, “I’m doing pretty well”, “I’ve done enough”, “I’m better than other people”?

Or will you say: “Lord, I confess that I have been building my own righteousness all along, through my morality, my service, my religious performance.

Today I want to lay every bit of it down; I want to confess that in me there is nothing good; I receive your cross, and this alone is my righteousness.

That ‘old self’ has been crucified with Christ.

And the life I now live is no longer I, but Christ living in me.

He loved me and gave himself for me.

Amen.”

Brothers and sisters, this is the freedom of the gospel, and this is the whole of the Christian life.

Three Questions for Reflection / Discussion

1. Is the security of your faith Christ alone, or Christ plus your own performance?

2. When you are weak, do you fall into self-accusation, or do you rest in grace?

3. In daily life, are you “gritting your teeth and carrying it all yourself”, or letting “Christ live in you”?