Unshakable and Undiluted
Galatians 1:1–12 — A Verse-by-Verse Reflection
Opening Prayer:
Lord God,
We come before You with hearts open to Your truth and minds ready to be renewed. As we open Your Word and reflect on Paul’s letter to the Galatians, help us to see with clarity the beauty and sufficiency of the gospel.
Guard us from the temptation to add our efforts where only grace belongs. Speak through these ancient words with fresh power, that we might discern truth from error and remain faithful to Christ alone.
Give us the humility to be taught, the courage to be corrected, and the joy that comes from knowing we are saved—not by what we do, but by what Jesus has done.
In His powerful name we pray,
Amen
When the Truth Is on Trial
The gospel is not just good advice—it is the good news that God has acted decisively in Jesus Christ to rescue a broken world. Yet from the very beginning of the Church, this message has been vulnerable to distortion. In his letter to the Galatians, Paul writes not with gentle instruction but with urgent alarm. Churches he had planted with joy were now turning away from the gospel of grace, embracing a counterfeit that added human effort to divine mercy.
This issue came to a head at the Jerusalem Council, recorded in Acts 15:1-35. There, early Church leaders—Paul, Barnabas, Peter, and James—gathered to address whether Gentile believers must follow the Mosaic Law, particularly circumcision, to be saved. Some Jewish Christians (often called Judaizers) insisted that faith in Jesus wasn’t enough without full adherence to the law of Moses. But Peter boldly declared, “We believe it is through the grace of our Lord Jesus that we are saved, just as they are” (Acts 15:11). The council ultimately affirmed the heart of Paul’s message: salvation is by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone—not by human works.
It’s important to understand that Christianity is deeply rooted in Judaism, but it is not merely a “flavor” or branch of it. Rather, it is the fulfillment of God’s promises to Israel. Jesus did not abolish the Law and the Prophets; He fulfilled them (Matthew 5:17-18). The New Covenant, foretold in Jeremiah 31, finds its full realization in Christ: “This is the covenant I will make with the people of Israel after that time,” declares the Lord. “I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people” (Jeremiah 31:33, NIV). Unlike the old covenant, which was engraved on tablets of stone and mediated through rituals and law, the new covenant is inscribed on the heart and sealed by the Holy Spirit.
In Christ, we are brought into a living, transformative relationship with God—one grounded not in ceremonial observance but in grace, forgiveness, and the indwelling presence of the Spirit (2 Corinthians 3:3–6). While Judaism looks forward in hope to the coming of the Messiah, Christianity proclaims that the Messiah has come—and His name is Jesus. The gospel is not a break from God’s covenantal story, but its climax and fulfillment, revealing the heart of God for both Israel and the nations.
This was the mission entrusted to Paul, whose ministry reshaped the spiritual map of the ancient world. From Jerusalem to Rome, from Antioch to Athens, Paul carried the gospel across continents with relentless passion and divine calling. His missionary journeys took him through modern-day Turkey, Greece, Syria, and Italy, proclaiming Christ in Jewish synagogues and Gentile marketplaces. Despite beatings, imprisonment, and hardship, Paul remained unwavering in his calling: to preach Christ and Him crucified. His letters, written under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, continue to guide and nourish the Church around the world to this day.
Verse-by-Verse Study
Galatians 1:1
“Paul, an apostle—sent not from men nor by a man, but by Jesus Christ and God the Father, who raised him from the dead—”
Paul begins his letter not with pleasantries but with a bold declaration of authority: “Paul, an apostle—sent not from men nor by a man, but by Jesus Christ and God the Father, who raised him from the dead.” This opening line sets the tone for the entire letter. Paul is under attack—not just personally, but doctrinally. His opponents, particularly the Judaizers, were questioning both his authority and the gospel he preached. In response, Paul wastes no time asserting that his apostleship is not human in origin. He had not been commissioned by any church council or ordained by human hands. Instead, his calling came directly from Jesus Christ, the risen Lord, and from God the Father Himself. This is crucial: Paul roots his authority in the resurrection—a divine endorsement that no human institution could replicate.
As John Stott points out, if Paul’s apostleship is in question, so is that of Peter, John, and the other apostles—for all were called by the same risen Christ. Paul does not claim superiority but equality in calling and authority. William Barclay adds that Paul is directly confronting the accusation that he was merely a secondhand apostle, one who received his message from others. Far from it—Paul’s commission came on the Damascus road (Acts 9:1-15), as described in Acts 9:15, where the Lord declared, “He is a chosen instrument of mine.” In one sentence, Paul reclaims both his mission and message as heaven-sent, and by doing so, he lays the foundation for defending the gospel of grace that follows in the verses ahead.
Alan Cole, in his Tyndale New Testament Commentary, underscores that Paul’s use of the term apostolos conveys more than a general messenger—it refers to a divinely appointed representative with Christ’s authority. Cole writes that Paul’s apostleship “was not derived from any human ordination, appointment, or succession,” but was based entirely on his personal commission from the risen Christ. This divine calling put Paul on equal footing with the original Twelve. Cole notes that Paul’s emphasis on not being sent “from men nor by a man” directly counters the Judaizers’ claim that he lacked legitimate authority. By declaring his commission came from the risen Lord, Paul validates not only his authority but also the authenticity of his gospel, which he is about to defend with zeal and precision.
Over the centuries, the term “apostle” has been understood in various ways across theological traditions. In historic Protestant and evangelical thought, the office of apostle—as seen in the Twelve and Paul—is considered unique, unrepeatable, and foundational (Ephesians 2:20), limited to those who had seen the risen Christ and were directly commissioned by Him. In contrast, Roman Catholic theology sees apostolic succession continuing through the bishops, with the pope regarded as the successor of Peter. Radical reformers in the 16th century, and later some Pentecostal and charismatic movements, have revived the use of “apostle” for contemporary church leaders who plant churches or receive special visions from God—though not necessarily claiming the same authority as the original apostles. Modern liberal theology, on the other hand, often reinterprets “apostle” symbolically, emphasizing Paul’s pioneering spirit and ethical teachings over divine commissioning. Yet in Galatians 1:1, Paul stakes everything—not on his moral insight or leadership ability—but on the fact that his apostleship is grounded in the authority of the risen Christ, not man. His claim challenges every human-centered view of spiritual leadership and reasserts that true gospel authority comes only from God.
Galatians 1:2
“and all the brothers and sisters with me, To the churches in Galatia:”
Though Paul writes with apostolic authority, he does not write alone. By including “all the brothers and sisters with me,” Paul reminds the Galatians that his gospel is not a private or isolated opinion—it is affirmed by the wider Christian community. This unity adds weight to his message. The letter is addressed not to one congregation, but to “the churches in Galatia,” a region in what is now central Turkey. These were the same cities Paul and Barnabas visited during their first missionary journey—Iconium, Lystra, Derbe (Acts 13–14). The fact that multiple congregations were being swayed by false teaching signals the seriousness of the crisis.
The Galatian churches had been birthed through hardship and suffering (Acts 14:19–22), yet now they were in danger of abandoning the very gospel that had saved them. Alexander Maclaren notes that Paul’s choice of words reveals “a spiritual epidemic, not a local infection.” The plural “churches” may also reflect how widespread and influential the Judaizers had become. J.B. Phillips translates the phrase with a modern clarity: “To the churches of Galatia, from all the Christians here with me.” Paul’s inclusion of fellow believers reinforces that the gospel is not a solo endeavor; it is communal, rooted in shared experience, and affirmed by the Spirit across the global church.
Galatians 1:3–5
“Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins to rescue us from the present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.”
Paul’s greeting is no mere formality. “Grace and peace” form the heartbeat of the gospel—grace being God’s unearned favor and peace being the result of reconciliation through Christ. Paul roots these blessings in the cross: Christ “gave himself for our sins.” This is the center of Christian hope. Unlike worldly philosophies that offer advice or self-help, the gospel begins with divine intervention. We are not called to save ourselves but to trust the One who rescues. The phrase “this present evil age” underscores that salvation is not just personal but cosmic—it delivers us from a world system opposed to God.
Eugene Peterson paraphrases this section powerfully in The Message: “We’re rescued from this evil world order by our Master, Jesus Christ. All according to the plan of our God and Father.” The rescue is not accidental—it is deliberate, planned “according to the will of our God and Father.” Matthew Henry comments, “The great design of the gospel is to deliver us from this present world—not from living in it, but from being enslaved by it.” Michael Card reminds us that “the gospel is more than forgiveness—it is rescue.” Paul ends with a doxology: “to whom be glory forever.” The only proper response to the gospel is worship.
Galatians 1:6
“I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you to live in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel—”
This is one of the rare letters where Paul skips thanksgiving and goes straight into shock. “I am astonished…” reflects not only Paul’s disappointment but his pastoral alarm. These believers, who had once received the gospel of grace, were now “deserting” it—and more critically, deserting God himself. The Greek word used here (metatithesthe) is a military term for a traitor or defector. Paul isn’t simply hurt; he’s calling out spiritual treason. The gospel isn’t just a set of doctrines—it’s the call of God into a life of grace. Turning from it is turning from Him.
William Barclay writes, “Paul was staggered not just that they turned away, but that they did it so quickly.” Their abandonment of grace for legalism was not a slow slide but a rapid departure. Tim Keller points out that “to lose the gospel you don’t have to deny it outright; you just have to add to it.” In their case, the addition of Jewish legalism—circumcision, dietary laws, rituals—subtracted the sufficiency of Christ. Paul makes it clear: any gospel that adds to grace ends up undermining it entirely.
Paul’s shock in Galatians 1:6 is rooted in a clear understanding of what the gospel is—and what it is not. In Acts 20:24, Paul defines his life’s mission this way: “to testify to the gospel of the grace of God.” The gospel, then, is not a moral improvement plan, a religious system, or a political ideology—it is the good news of God’s grace freely given through Jesus Christ. It declares that sinners are forgiven, justified, and made new—not because of who they are or what they’ve done, but because of who Christ is and what He has done. E. Stanley Jones once said, “Grace is love that stoops.” The Galatians were being tempted to trade this divine gift for a human-centered system of works, but Paul knows that any “gospel” which shifts the focus from Christ’s finished work to our performance is no gospel at all. To distort grace is to desert the God who calls us by it.
Galatians 1:7
“which is really no gospel at all. Evidently some people are throwing you into confusion and are trying to pervert the gospel of Christ.”
Paul continues his argument: the so-called “different gospel” is not good news at all—it’s an anti-gospel. The Galatians had not merely shifted emphasis within the Christian faith; they had embraced a counterfeit that corrupted its core. “Some people,” likely the Judaizers, were spreading confusion and distorting the truth. These were Jewish Christians who insisted that Gentile believers must obey the Mosaic Law—especially circumcision and dietary rules—to be fully accepted by God. By promoting a gospel of Jesus plus the law, they effectively denied the sufficiency of Christ’s saving work. The word Paul uses for “pervert” (metastrepho) means to reverse or distort something until it becomes its opposite. In trying to blend law and grace, these teachers had rejected both and were leading others away from the freedom of the gospel.
N.T. Wright notes, “The gospel is not an idea to be reinterpreted in every age. It is an announcement of what God has done.” And that announcement—Christ’s death and resurrection—is not to be tinkered with. Donald Coggan calls false gospels “spiritual vandalism,” distorting God’s mercy and enslaving people once again. In a world that prizes tolerance, Paul’s words may sound harsh, but he knows the stakes are high: souls are at risk. As Thomas à Kempis warned, “Truth cannot contradict itself. If you are not following Christ’s words, you are not in the way of salvation.” True salvation does not begin with external conformity to rules but with an inner transformation wrought by grace through faith. It is Christ dwelling within us—renewing the heart, reshaping the will, and reordering our desires—that marks the beginning of authentic salvation and a life of obedience.
This is why the Reformers, especially Martin Luther and John Calvin, insisted that salvation is by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone. Luther declared, “We are saved by faith alone, but the faith that saves is never alone.” This wasn’t a new idea—it was a rediscovery of the apostolic gospel Paul preached. To add human effort, religious rituals, or moral performance as requirements for salvation is to distort grace and deny the sufficiency of Christ’s atoning work. Galatians 1:7 affirms what Ephesians 2:8–9 proclaims: “It is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works.” When Paul says the Galatians were embracing “no gospel at all,” he means that any so-called gospel that does not begin and end with grace is not just inadequate—it’s dangerous. It cannot save, because it removes Christ from the center and puts self in His place.
Galatians 1:8–9
“But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach a gospel other than the one we preached to you, let them be under God’s curse! As we have already said, so now I say again: If anybody is preaching to you a gospel other than what you accepted, let them be under God’s curse!”
Here, Paul escalates his warning with striking seriousness. The issue at hand is not a minor doctrinal disagreement or an innocent misunderstanding—it is a matter of life and death. Anyone, including Paul himself or even a glorious angel from heaven, who preaches a gospel different from the one originally received is to be under God’s curse. Paul repeats this declaration for emphasis, underlining the non-negotiable nature of the true gospel. This isn’t about theological nuance—it’s about the very heart of salvation.
The Greek word for “curse” is anathema (ἀνάθεμα), a powerful and weighty term. In the biblical context, it refers to something or someone set apart for destruction—removed from God’s blessing and placed under His judgment. For example, in Joshua 6:17, the city of Jericho is placed under a divine ban, marked for destruction. Paul’s use of this word indicates that to corrupt the gospel is to put oneself in direct conflict with God. It echoes the warning in Deuteronomy 13:1–5, where even miracle-working prophets are condemned if they lead people away from the true God. Likewise, in Revelation 22:18–19, we are warned against adding to or subtracting from God’s revelation, lest we forfeit our place in the book of life. Paul is crystal clear: the gospel of grace is not open for revision—not by man, not by angels, not even by apostles.
Eugene Peterson, in The Message, paraphrases Paul’s tone: “Let him be cursed!”—a stark reminder of the spiritual danger of false teaching. This is not the voice of anger but of pastoral urgency. Charles Spurgeon put it well: “If I preach anything but Christ crucified, may the last tongue I use be one of fire.” J.B. Phillips echoes this conviction: “Don’t listen—even if the message appears heavenly.” As 2 Corinthians 11:14 warns, Satan himself can disguise as an angel of light. False gospels often come wrapped in charisma and sincerity, but as W.E. Sangster wisely observed, “It is possible to be sincere—and sincerely wrong.” Paul’s warning remains deeply relevant: any message that undermines the sufficiency of Christ is not gospel, but deception.
Galatians 1:10
“Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.”
Paul turns inward here, anticipating a common criticism: that he was tailoring the gospel to win favor with Gentiles by minimizing Jewish law. But Paul rejects this outright. If he were trying to please people, he would never have become a Christian, let alone an apostle. The cross is offensive (Gal. 5:11), and gospel ministry inevitably involves confrontation. Paul makes it clear: there is no compatibility between seeking human applause and serving Christ.
Tim Keller reflects, “A people-pleaser can never be a gospel-preacher.” In an age of branding, platforms, and digital affirmation, Paul’s words remain vital. Gospel ministry may win hearts, but it will often provoke hostility. Thomas à Kempis wisely wrote, “Do not be concerned with who is for you or against you, but make it your aim that God may be with you in everything you do.” The Galatians needed to hear that truth was more important than comfort, and Paul was willing to lose their favor to preserve their souls.
Galatians 1:11–12
“I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that the gospel I preached is not of human origin. I did not receive it from any man, nor was I taught it; rather, I received it by revelation from Jesus Christ.”
Paul now provides the ultimate defense of his message: its supernatural origin. He wasn’t passing along hearsay or human wisdom. The gospel came to him directly from Jesus Himself—most likely referring to both his conversion on the Damascus road (Acts 9:3–6) and the subsequent revelations he received (Gal. 1:16; 2 Cor. 12:1–4). This sets the Christian gospel apart from every man-made religion or philosophical system. It’s not speculation about God; it’s God’s self-disclosure through Christ.
John Stott emphasizes, “Paul’s gospel was not invented, inherited, or imagined—it was revealed.” Eugene Peterson paraphrases it simply: “I didn’t receive it through traditions or professors. I got it straight from God.” And Barclay reminds us: “If we accept that Paul’s gospel came from Christ Himself, we must then receive it with the same authority as Christ’s own words.” For the Galatians—and for us—the question is not whether the gospel is appealing, but whether it is true.
Conclusion: The Unchanging Gospel in a Shifting World
Paul’s message to the Galatians remains just as urgent and relevant today as it was nearly two thousand years ago: there is only one true gospel—the gospel of grace through faith in Jesus Christ. It does not evolve to fit cultural trends, nor does it require human improvement or embellishment. To add anything to it—whether rules, rituals, or human merit—is to subtract its saving power. In an age of endless opinions, spiritual fads, and persuasive personalities, Paul’s voice cuts through the noise: the gospel is not validated by the outward impressiveness of the messenger, but by its divine origin and unchanging truth. As Alan Cole notes, “The outward person of the messenger does not validate the message, but rather the nature of the message validates the messenger.” Paul didn’t build his authority on personal charisma or institutional endorsement, but on the revelation of Jesus Christ Himself. That same message still carries the full weight of heaven.
As we reflect on Galatians 1, we are left with searching questions: Are we still holding fast to the grace of Christ? Are we standing firm, like Paul, even when the truth is unpopular or misunderstood? The stakes are not academic—they are eternal. The gospel is not merely a doctrine to admire but a truth to live and proclaim. Jesus declared in John 10:10, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I have come that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” False gospels, like the one the Judaizers preached, steal that abundance by placing conditions on God’s unconditional gift. They diminish Christ’s finished work and rob believers of assurance and joy. In contrast, the gospel Paul preached—the gospel of grace—is the very means by which we are made alive, set free, and filled with the fullness of Christ (Colossians 2:8–10). To turn from this to legalism is not simply to miss a theological detail—it is to forfeit the very life Jesus came to give.
May we, like Paul, live not for the approval of others but for the glory of Christ. And may we never trade the breathtaking beauty of grace for a gospel that is no gospel at all. As Thomas à Kempis reminds us, “Hold fast to the truth as it is in Jesus, for truth saves—not eloquence.”
Closing Prayer:
Gracious Father,
Thank You for the gift of Your gospel—unearned, unchanging, and unstoppable. As we go from this time of study, may Your Spirit keep our hearts anchored in grace and our eyes fixed on Jesus.
You have promised us life—life in all its fullness—not through striving, but through trusting. Help us to receive the abundant life You offer in Christ, a life not rooted in performance but in the freedom of Your love.
Strengthen us to recognize and resist the false gospels that demand what You have already finished at the cross. Help us not to seek the approval of people, but to live for the audience of One.
May we walk as those who have been rescued, not conformed to this world, but transformed by the renewing of our minds. Let Your truth take deep root in us, and bear fruit in lives marked by faith, love, and grace.
In the name of Jesus Christ, our Savior and Shepherd,
Amen.
Questions for Reflection
1. In what ways are you tempted to add to the gospel—through rules, performance, or cultural approval?
It’s easy to slip into a mindset that says, “God will accept me more if I pray longer, serve harder, or live cleaner.” While spiritual disciplines are vital, they are never the basis of our salvation—they are the fruit, not the root. Sometimes we unconsciously add cultural expectations too, like success, respectability, or even political alignment. When we begin to measure ourselves or others by anything other than the finished work of Christ, we’ve added to the gospel. As Paul says in Galatians 2:21, “If righteousness could be gained through the law, Christ died for nothing!”
2. How can you guard your heart from false gospels that seem attractive but diminish the cross?
False gospels often come dressed in truth. They promise control, identity, or spiritual achievement—but they rob the cross of its central power. To guard your heart, you must stay rooted in Scripture and grounded in the gospel of grace. Surround yourself with a community that keeps Christ at the center and gently corrects when you drift. Regularly preach the gospel to yourself: “I am accepted, not because I perform, but because Christ performed perfectly for me.” As E. Stanley Jones said, “Grace is love that seeks you out when you have nothing to give in return.” Let that be your anchor.
3. Are you seeking the approval of people or God in your spiritual life?
If we’re honest, many of us live with one eye on God and the other on the crowd. We long to be seen, liked, and affirmed. But Paul’s question in Galatians 1:10 is piercing: “If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.” True freedom comes when we seek only God’s “Well done.” That doesn’t mean we become abrasive or uncaring, but it does mean we stop performing for others and start resting in Christ. As Thomas à Kempis wrote, “Do not be concerned with who is for you or against you, but make it your aim that God may be with you in everything you do.”
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