March 12, 2007

Galatians 4:1-20

“Don’t Lick the Toilet” - Reflections on Hope and Freedom in the Fourth Chapter of Galatians

By Lori Brandt Hale, Ph.D.

“Don’t lick the toilet!” I uttered – no, proclaimed – this very command in my own house. Now, as many of you know, I have pets. But I did not say this to the cat or one of the dogs; not even the new, my-friend-found-a-stray-I-agreed-to- foster-for-a-few-days-that-was-two-months-ago-now-she-has-a –name-and – seems-to-be-a-permanent-addition-to-the-family dog. Not even that one. No, the exact utterance, ah – proclamation, was this: “Micah, don’t lick the toilet!!” I was speaking to my three year old who was pretending to be a dog, but actually licking the toilet. This prohibition, against licking toilets, has now become a law in our house. It is strictly prohibited.

There are other laws, strictly enforced, in our house: no running with scissors; no sticking metal objects in electrical outlets; no ‘belly budging.’ You know, belly budging, when my two boys, six years and seventy pounds apart, run full speed toward each other and bump bellies ala sumo wrestler-style. Prohibited. Strictly.

My children are young. They need parameters; they need rules; they need guardians. The time will come – probably sooner than I think -- when they will no longer need to dwell in this law.

Paul’s central theme, especially in the opening chapters, in his letter to the church at Galatia is abundantly clear: the death of Christ redeems his people (all people, Jews and Gentiles alike) from bondage: bondage to sin and bondage to the law.

In this first half of chapter four, our reading for today, Paul’s frustration with the Galatians failure to grasp the understanding of this redemption, this freedom; his frustration with the eagerness with which the Galatians accept the teachings of false teachers, who are, in Paul’s words, “perverting the Gospel of Christ” (1:7) is palpable. He is perplexed and wonders if his work in Galatia has been wasted.

Chapter three ends with Paul’s well-known proclamation of unity: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male or female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” (3:28) But the key (for unpacking the text from chapter four in front of us today) is the next verse, the last verse, of chapter three. Paul continues, “And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to the promise.” (3:29) He is writing polemically here. The covenantal promises made to Abraham are extended to all (Jew and Greek, slave and free) in the death and resurrection of Christ. No other observations, with regard to Jewish ritual, feast days or Sabbath days, or circumcision are required.

Here, in this context, we find the beginning of chapter four where he writes, “My point is this: heirs, as long as they are minors, are no better than slaves, though they are the owners of all the property; but they remain under guardians and trustees until the day set by the father.” The law functioned as this guardian, enslaving, to be sure, but necessary, says Paul, (who wants three year olds licking toilets?) and temporary.

Paul explains the passing away of the primacy of the law; his explanation is a reiteration of the overarching theme of the entire epistle, of the death of Christ as redemptive for all. This shift from law to gospel, as it were, happened “[w]hen the fullness of time had come...” In other words, in that kairotic moment, in that moment of fulfilled time, i.e. at the right time, “God sent his Son, born of a woman [Paul emphasizes Christ’s humanity in this descriptive clause], born under the law [Paul reminds the Galatians that Jesus was a Jew, afterall – he knows about it; he knows what the law can and cannot do]… So, “God sent 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 children.”

There is grim news here: the law is bondage. And those who remain under the law remain enslaved to it and, in so doing, make futile the death of Christ. Paul saw this reality as the pervasive one in Galatia, and it tormented him. His rhetoric is strong. “How can you want to be enslaved again?” he asks. I thought we were friends, he implores. Don’t you trust me anymore?

But there is hopeful news, too. Good news. Let’s say, great news! Through Christ’s redemptive act we are adopted as children of God; no longer slave (bound always by the observance and restrictions of Jewish cultural law) but child and, in Paul’s words, “if a child then also an heir, through God.” The promise of redemption, and the freedom that comes with participation in the new creation stands before us. In Paul’s estimation, we are simultaneously heir(s) to the promises of the old and new covenants. And while heirs, like slaves, have been bound for some time to the necessary restraints of the law, freedom from those restraints lies within reach.

But what does all this mean for us? Now? Today? Can Paul’s message to the Galatians be more broadly construed? (or, is this the big ‘so what?’ moment?) Are we enslaved? Bound? What enslaves us? And binds us? Who serves as false teachers?

Random voices from the congregation read:

I am enslaved by perfectionism.

I am enslaved by my attempts to conform to cultural expectations about my body type.

I try to make everyone happy.

I procrastinate.

I hide my sexual orientation from my family.

I am enslaved by an unhealthy relationship.

I drink too much.

I am afraid of trying new things and meeting new people.

I am afraid of meeting people who look different than I do.

I gamble too much.

I’ve been abused and never told anyone.

Movies and television bombard me with images of sexuality but not sexual intimacy. [Pause]

I am a child of God.

I am free.

I am healthy.

God sends the Spirit of his Son into my heart and I cry, “Abba, Father.”

I have come to know God.

I have been known by God.

I am forgiven.

I am created in the image of God.

My sexuality is a gift from God.

God sent his son, born of a woman, and under the law, to redeem me.

I am free to serve the other, the neighbor.

The fullness of time has come.

In verse 19, Paul uses the powerful imagery of the pain of childbirth. “My little children,” he writes, “I am again in the pain of childbirth until Christ is formed in you.” In this one image, Paul captures both his anguish and his hope for this community. Anyone who has given birth, anyone who has witnessed a birth, anyone who has traversed the tumultuous terrain of the process of adoption, anyone who has yearned for a child, knows this simultaneous pain and promise. I have joked about my toilet-licking, belly-budging children, but in all earnestness, I have labored with my husband over the task of setting down the rules, the laws, in our house, knowing that they are necessary, but temporary. My hope for my children is that one day, when the time is right, they will no longer be bound by those laws, but will be free. But it will not be a freedom to, a license, to illicit behavior and ill-conceived stunts. Rather, it will be the freedom that comes as a costly gift of grace; it will be a freedom for. With good judgment and in good faith, they will be free for taking responsible action in the world; with full embrace of their full humanity, they will be free for presenting Christ to others, for seeing Christ in others, for serving and loving the neighbor even as they serve and love themselves. This is Paul’s hope for the Galatians. This is my hope for my children. And this is my hope for you.

Amen.