Bible Commentaries
Galatians 6

Verse 2

MUTUAL HELP

‘Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.’

Galatians 6:2

There are two great forces for uplifting human life, when it is low in quality and low in material prosperity, which are more powerful and more necessary than any other of the processes of civilisation. One is mutual help, and the other Christian conviction and practice.

I. Mutual help.—Nowhere are examples of ‘mutual help’ so numerous and striking and beautiful as are to be found in the lowest abysses of poverty. Ah! yes, we who live where want and suffering most abound can bear witness to the truth of this. Our people are not thrifty, but they are generous; they are self-forgetful, but they are mindful of one another when real trouble comes. They fail in many things, but they excel all classes of the community in this thing. Here is the strength of the poor: they do assist each other; they do share with each other; they do stand by each other in ways which are often sublime in their meaning and heroic in their measure. But this strength of the poor has its accompanying weakness, and that weakness is this: ‘the mutual aid’ which characterises the poor above every other class is not organised. It is chaotic. It works on no definite lines. It is not continuous. It is not disciplined and made to work for designed and continuously practical ends. And the result is that this magnificent force of ‘mutual aid’ among the poor, which, if properly organised, would of itself work out the social salvation of the poor, is largely unutilised and lost. The remarkable development of trades unions, of friendly societies, of benefit societies, of loan clubs, which have sprung into existence of late years, is a sufficient indication of what the poorer classes can accomplish if they will but turn their minds seriously and perseveringly to this great and urgently required work. It is a work which the whole nation is waiting to see done. It is work which can only be done by the poorer working classes themselves. It is a work which must be done before better housing conditions, more adequate means of living, improved social habits, and increased happiness can come to those who now suffer most from these evils. ‘Mutual help,’ which is ‘self-help’ multiplied, is the law of progress for all men, specially men who are low down the scale of material prosperity.

II. History nowhere tells us of a nation which has reached greatness and goodness without the uplifting force of religion.—And so we come to our second condition for the social plus the spiritual salvation of the suffering masses, viz. Christian conviction and Christian practice. There was a time when secular Socialists cried, ‘Down with religion’! we will have none of it.’ But that cry was not re-echoed by the general body of the poor. Their instinct was too strongly on the side of religion. They felt that, however much religious people and religious teachers had failed to come up to their own professed ideals, religion was still necessary for human life. And so secular Socialism is changing its tone about religion. But this service which religion can do for the suffering poor is one for which there need be no waiting for outside action. The poor can obtain it for themselves. They can help themselves in this matter just as truly and effectively as they can in the matter of ‘mutual aid.’ Indeed, if they do not make religion a personal matter, if they do not seek out Jesus Christ for themselves and have direct and daily communication with Him, neither religion nor churches nor Christian workers will bring them the saving they need, and which their pitiable conditions cry for. That famous utterance of Jesus Christ, ‘Except a man be born again, he cannot see the Kingdom of God,’ is a principle which applies to all human life, but specially to crushed and afflicted human life. A poor man needs the new birth, which comes from the Holy Spirit of God, more than any man. He needs it, not because he is a greater sinner than a man who is not poor, but because he needs more courage, more hope, more patience, more high thought and feeling, more contentment, more strength to endure his hard lot, than men who are socially better off than himself. But the poor man needs this ‘new birth,’ of which our Lord spoke, not merely that he may endure his lot, but also that he may improve his lot. In the early days of the Church the first Christians were mostly of the slave class. How did they become free and prosperous and powerful? The change was entirely due to the religion of Christ. It found them as slaves; it raised them to freedom, and to civil rights, and to prosperity. And the same result can be obtained in our crowded and poverty-stricken English cities, if only the poorer members of our communities will but recognise and lay hold of the spiritual and social salvation which is waiting for them in the Gospel of Christ. There lies their hope. There waits certain deliverance from their own human weakness and the crushing power of misfortune. Let the sufferers from cruelties of our modern civilisation turn their despairing souls to Him Who was the Carpenter of Nazareth, but who is now the Lord of Glory. Let them follow as He leads; let them do as He commands, and He will so transform them from weakness into might, from deadly despair into beautiful hope, from earth-meanness into God-like dignity, that life, instead of being, as it is now to the vast majority of them, a heavy burden, shall become a glorious privilege, and a blessed and blessing thing.

Rev. Canon Henry Lewis.

Verse 7

AN INEXORABLE LAW

‘Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.’

Galatians 6:7

Every habit formed is seed sown. Our thoughts, our words, our deeds are all seed which, in the world to come, we shall reap, in sorrow or in joy.

After all, is it not simply just? And for this reason, that a man sows what he likes, as he likes. As it is with the seed sown in the fields, so it is with our lives, a fixed law! Yet men ignore it: seem to hope that after all it may not be true. As well might a farmer sow barley and hope that after all there may spring up oats!

I. Putting aside the reaping that will be in the next world, do we not find the words abundantly fulfilled even in this?—We are, we enjoy, we suffer in the present, as we have done, or as we have left undone, in the past.

( a) You see a man in the evening of life, full of riches and honour. You knew him long ago a struggling youth, yet even then noted for application to business, sober, self-denying, honest. The seeds of industry have produced a harvest of peace and plenty.

( b) You see another born to better things thrown on the parish. You don’t wonder when you know that drink was his master. The seeds of intemperance are bearing the bitter fruit of ruin and disgrace.

( c) A third case, perhaps, puzzles you for a time. You see a man struggling hard to keep his head above water, and yet going steadily down. His health is broken. And you say, ‘It seems hard, doesn’t it?’ ‘Ah,’ some one replies, ‘he is wonderfully changed, wonderfully sobered. But I can remember the time when he was “ sowing his wild oats”—he sowed at the same time the seeds of the disease which is killing him now.’

II. The inexorable law.—A man lives a life of the most reckless waste—waste of time, waste of health, waste of opportunities. He ‘sows to the flesh’ in the indulgence of every passion. When he has done ‘sowing his wild oats’ he ‘settles down.’ But—before he is middle-aged he is old! His health is gone, he is broken down. Then he cries out bitterly, and says that ‘it is hard, so hard, that the sins of his youth should be remembered against him!’ Remembered! Why, it is only the working out of a natural law. If you forget that you put seed into a field, your forgetfulness will not prevent it springing up. Remembered! Nay! the wild oats sown so recklessly do but yield the harvest of pain, and feebleness, and sorrow, and regret. Sowing and reaping! You cannot separate the two. Young men, must you sow your wild oats? Do they tell you that it is ‘only natural.’ Very well; but ‘whatsoever a man soweth,’ remember ‘ that shall he also reap!’

—Rev. J. B. C. Murphy.

Verse 9

THE CURE FOR WEARINESS

‘Let us not be weary in well-doing.’

Galatians 6:9

There may be some here whose hearts are heavy on account of failure, who can remember that in former years they have made good resolutions and laid down some special rule of self-discipline. They now feel that they achieved no lasting result, and they are sorely tempted to say that there is no use in trying again, for it only ends in disappointment and failure.

I. St. Paul gives us the keynote of hope and perseverance.—‘Let us not be weary in well-doing, for in due season we shall reap if we faint not.’ He reminds us of the need of energy and courage and hope, and tells us of the certainty of final victory if only we go steadily on, trusting less in self and more in the grace of God.

II. If there be sometimes depression and disappointment in the spiritual life, it is the lot still more of those who live without God in the world.—The question is, What sort of weariness will you have? The fatigue of work well done, which has its reward in rest, or that weariness which comes from the pursuit of vanity? Surely it is well to be weary if it brings us to rest beneath the cross, if it makes us listen to the voice of love. But there is a kind of weariness which is hard to bear, a weariness in which we can claim the sympathy of our Lord, when our efforts for others seem to fail, when the harder we try the less we seem to succeed. If there be a mother here who has often poured out her heart to God in prayer for a wandering child, if there be a wife who has striven hard to win her husband to God, or a man who has prayed for his friend, you must not give it up, you must not suppose that your prayers are lost. Behind that cloud of silence and uncertainty there is the boundless love of God waiting to bless you for your efforts and to give you the answer for which you long, or it may be something better still.

III. Another more personal form of weariness and disappointment is when we find that the evil within us is still strong, that the old temptations have still a power to allure, that we have still the root of an old besetting sin. We must not expect that an evil habit which has perhaps been growing for years can be shaken off at once by one impulsive effort or by the strength of one resolution. Remember the expression used in the New Testament to describe the process by which we gain self-mastery; it is a very strong and significant one: we are to crucify the flesh. Now crucifixion was a slow, lingering, painful death. And the figure seems to tell us that our battle with sin must be a long one, and will not soon be over. But, thank God, the final issue is certain if only we are faithful and true.

—Archdeacon R. Stewart.

Illustration

‘There is no such thing as failure in the works of God. God permits our works to seem to fail, to try our patience, to prove our faith, to encourage us to prayer, to make us more earnest in His work, lest if He were to grant us too large a measure of success, we should, as in the days of our temporal prosperity, forget the God Who gives us our wealth, and attribute it to the efforts of our own hands—accept the gift, but forget the Giver. No; then let no failures, real or apparent—real, I think, there cannot be; apparent, there ever will be—let no failures ever enter into our minds; let us simply do God’s work in God’s name, with prayer for God’s blessing, and be assured of this, that in good time we shall reap if we faint not.’

Verse 14

CRUCIFIXION OF SELF

‘By whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world.’

Galatians 6:14

The reason which St. Paul gives here for his glorying in the Cross of Christ seems strange at first sight.

I. But the dying of the Lord Jesus upon the Cross suggests some very striking points of resemblance to ‘the crucifying of the body of sin.’—All true followers of Christ must undergo that death to sin which is like the crucifixion of the body. Such as suffered upon a cross, died by degrees; death for them was a slow and lingering process.

II. Was it ever anything but painful to mortify a sinful lust?—And there are many such lusts which must be put to death. ‘Our old man’ must be stretched as it were upon his cross. Alas, it is to be feared that as the nails are being driven in and the flesh begins to quiver, too many draw back; they come down, so to speak, from their cross. Others, again, become impatient because the ‘death of the body of sin’ is so long in being accomplished, that is, the death of the old self. They have mortified it again and again, only to find it reviving anew. Let us not despair. As crucifixion was a slow death for the body, so is the crucifixion of the flesh, with its affections and lusts, for the soul. ‘The body of sin,’ the old self, must be kept fast to its cross, until its life shall have ebbed away.

III. There is this further analogy between the death of the Cross and the crucifixion of our sinful selves.—Death, for one who was crucified, set in at the extremities and travelled slowly to the vital parts, and when it reached the heart the struggle was over. This thought suggests some points for reflection as we think of the death of the body of sin. When a soul is truly converted to God, it is the open and more gross forms of sin which are first mortified. These may be likened to the hands and feet of the body of sin. But there are sins more subtle by far and harder to kill, sins woven as it were into the fibre and tissues of our nature, sins like pride and selfishness. When may it be said that such sins as these die outright within us? In most of us they will only become extinct when we cease to breathe.

IV. The Apostle alludes to a particular kind of death for the Christian when he speaks of being ‘crucified to the world.’—It means the putting to death of that affection which is known as ‘the love of the praise of men.’

—Rev. F. K. Aglionby.

Illustration

‘Macarius, a saintly Father of the early Church, was giving a lecture to young men in his monastery on the Epistle to the Galatians, when one of them asked, “What does it mean to be dead to the world?” The saint said to him, “Take thy staff and go out into the burial ground and smite thrice upon the grave of our brother who was buried yesterday, and say, ‘A hypocrite thou livedst, a hypocrite thou diedst, and thou hast now thy portion with the hypocrites.’ ” When he had done as he was told, he was asked, “What did our brother say to thee?” “Nothing,” was the reply. “Go again to the grave and say, ‘A saint thou livedst, a saint thou diedst, and with the saints thou dost rest.’ ” When he returned the second time he was again asked, “What did our brother say?” “Nothing.” Then he was told, “When thou art as regardless of the world, as indifferent to its praise, as deaf to its censures, as our departed brother was to thy words, then thou mayst be said to have died to the world.” ’

Verse 17

SHOWING THE MARKS

‘The marks of the Lord Jesus.’

Galatians 6:17

In the literal sense these were marks of bodily suffering, and St. Paul gloried in them. ‘I bear,’ ‘I wear’ these ‘marks’ as badges—a slave branded with the Master’s mark. Some may now ‘bear the marks’ literally, sick, worn, saddened, constitution undermined, vital powers exhausted, worn out in Master’s service. But there is something better, higher, more blessed than this. The spiritual marks—the Christ-like face, aspect, and body. What are the spiritual marks of the Lord Jesus?

I. Prayer.—The root and ground of all—likeness to Christ, must be won upon our knees. Oh! to be like Jesus in prayer.

II. Meekness.—A grace despised by the world, honoured of heaven. He was ‘as a sheep before her shearers is dumb.’ How soon we are offended and lose our temper at provocations. Where are the ‘marks’?

III. Love.—Jesus is love because He is God. His love was patient, pitying, tender, forgiving, generous. All giving, no receiving. It was disappointed love to those who rejected Him and would not receive Him, but still loved on.

IV. Self-sacrifice.—‘He gave Himself.’ His life and death was one long self-sacrifice. Dare we lay our lives down by His and compare them together? Let us ask ourselves, ‘Where, in all I look upon, are the “marks of the Lord Jesus”?’

Bishop Walsham How.

Illustration

‘However dim might be the firelight of their turf cabins, the Apostle was determined they should be able to read at any rate the postscript of the Epistle. It should not be the fault of his handwriting if they did not. His amanuensis had written so far in small, cursive hand, but at the eleventh verse of this sixth chapter St. Paul takes up the reed pen and begins, “Ye see with what large letters I have written unto you with mine own hand”—as much as to say, whatever else of the letter escapes your eyes, at least you shall see what I think of the insincerity of these Judaising Christians. At least they shall hear that I at any rate have my mind made up on the question in dispute between us, and am careless of what all the world may say against me. “Henceforth let none trouble me, for I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus.” What a triumph there is about these words, and how the echo of that brave saying from the first chapter of this same Epistle, “For if I yet pleased men I should not be the servant of Christ,” sounds in this final declaration of the Apostle’s truest liberty! “Henceforth let no man trouble me,” for I bear in my body the marks of the Master Whose I am, Whom I serve, the brand of the Lord Jesus.’