Gospel Backbone: The Antioch Staredown Text: Galatians 2:11-21
Introduction: A Tale of Two Dinners
The Christian faith is not a set of abstract doctrines for quiet contemplation in the faculty lounge. It is a robust, public, and often confrontational truth that shapes everything, starting with who you are willing to eat with. In our passage today, we are invited to a ringside seat at one of the most significant confrontations in the history of the church. This is not a petty squabble between two oversized egos. This is a theological staredown over the very heart of the gospel. The apostle Peter, the rock, the leader of the twelve, buckles under peer pressure, and the apostle Paul, the latecomer, the former persecutor, calls him out on it, publicly. To his face.
We live in an age that prizes niceness above truth. We are told that unity means uniformity of opinion, and if there is no uniformity, then we must at least maintain a uniform silence. To publicly correct a brother, especially a famous one, is considered the height of arrogance. But the apostle Paul understood something we have forgotten: theological error that compromises the gospel is not a private matter. It is gangrene. It spreads, it corrupts, and if it is not cut out, it will kill the body. Peter's lunchtime hypocrisy was not a small slip-up; it was a denial of the gospel in shoe leather. He was, in effect, rebuilding the very wall of separation that Christ had demolished on the cross.
This event in Antioch was not a sidebar to the gospel; it was the proving ground of the gospel. Everything was at stake. Is salvation by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone? Or is it faith-plus-something? Is our standing before God based entirely on the finished work of Jesus, or does it also depend on our ethnicity, our dietary habits, or our adherence to certain ceremonial laws? Peter, by separating himself from the Gentile believers, was voting for faith-plus. He was preaching a different gospel with his actions, and it was a gospel that could not save. Paul's response was not driven by personal animosity but by a holy zeal for the "truth of the gospel." We must recover this kind of backbone today. We must learn to distinguish between minor disagreements where we can show charity, and fundamental corruptions of the gospel where we must show steel.
This passage is therefore intensely practical. It teaches us about the nature of justification, the danger of hypocrisy, the necessity of public confrontation, and the glorious reality of our union with Christ. Let us pay close attention, because the same pressures that caused Peter to stumble are alive and well in the church today.
The Text
But when Cephas came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned. For prior to the coming of certain men from James, he used to eat with the Gentiles, but when they came, he began to shrink back and separate himself, fearing the party of the circumcision. And the rest of the Jews joined him in hypocrisy, with the result that even Barnabas was carried away by their hypocrisy. But when I saw that they were not straightforward about the truth of the gospel, I said to Cephas before everyone, “If you, being a Jew, live like the Gentiles and not like the Jews, how is it that you compel the Gentiles to live like Jews?
“We are Jews by nature and not sinners from among the Gentiles; nevertheless knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the Law but through faith in Jesus Christ, even we have believed in Christ Jesus, so that we may be justified by faith in Christ and not by the works of the Law; since by the works of the Law no flesh will be justified. But if, while seeking to be justified in Christ, we ourselves have also been found sinners, is Christ then a minister of sin? May it never be! For if I rebuild what I have once destroyed, I prove myself to be a transgressor. For through the Law I died to the Law, so that I might live to God. I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. And the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me. I do not set aside the grace of God, for if righteousness comes through the Law, then Christ died needlessly.”
(Galatians 2:11-21 LSB)
The Confrontation (vv. 11-14)
We begin with the public rebuke.
"But when Cephas came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned." (Galatians 2:11)
Paul wastes no time. He names the man, Cephas, which is Peter's Aramaic name. He names the place, Antioch, a thriving hub of Jew-Gentile Christianity. And he names the action: "I opposed him to his face." This was not a letter-writing campaign or a series of passive-aggressive sub-tweets. This was direct, eyeball-to-eyeball confrontation. Why? "Because he stood condemned." This doesn't mean Peter had lost his salvation, but rather that his actions were self-condemning. His behavior was objectively wrong and inconsistent with the gospel he himself preached. His conduct was its own conviction.
The issue was table fellowship. "For prior to the coming of certain men from James, he used to eat with the Gentiles..." (v. 12). Eating together in the ancient world was a profound statement of acceptance and unity. Peter, remembering his vision in Acts 10, was living out the reality that in Christ, the dietary laws that separated Jew and Gentile were obsolete. He was eating bacon, or whatever the Gentile equivalent was, and enjoying full fellowship. But then, a delegation arrives, "certain men from James." These were Judaizers, men who insisted that Gentile believers must adopt Jewish customs, particularly circumcision, to be truly part of God's people. They were the "party of the circumcision."
And what does Peter do? He "began to shrink back and separate himself, fearing" them. The great apostle, who had walked on water and preached at Pentecost, was undone by fear of man. He starts a new seating arrangement in the church cafeteria. He effectively puts up a sign that says, "Jews here, Gentiles over there." This was a catastrophic failure. His actions screamed that Gentile believers were second-class citizens, that they were still ceremonially unclean, and that faith in Jesus was not quite enough to make them fully acceptable. He was rebuilding the dividing wall that Christ's flesh had torn down (Ephesians 2:14).
Hypocrisy is contagious. "And the rest of the Jews joined him in hypocrisy, with the result that even Barnabas was carried away by their hypocrisy" (v. 13). When a leader compromises, he takes others down with him. Even Barnabas, the "son of encouragement," a good man, gets swept up in the cowardly charade. This shows us the immense power of social pressure within the church. It is a terrifying thing.
Paul saw this not as a failure of etiquette, but as a betrayal of the gospel. "But when I saw that they were not straightforward about the truth of the gospel, I said to Cephas before everyone..." (v. 14). Their feet were not walking a straight path in line with the gospel. The gospel declares that all who are in Christ are one. Their behavior declared that bloodlines and rituals still mattered. So Paul rebukes him publicly, because the sin was public and its implications were church-wide. "If you, being a Jew, live like the Gentiles and not like the Jews, how is it that you compel the Gentiles to live like Jews?" This is a brilliant, logical trap. Paul is saying, "Peter, you yourself know that the Jewish ceremonial laws are no longer binding. You live like a Gentile in your freedom. So why are your actions now forcing Gentiles to adopt the very laws you have set aside in order to have fellowship with you?" It was indefensible.
The Doctrine of Justification (vv. 15-18)
Paul's public rebuke now transitions into the glorious doctrine that Peter's actions had compromised. This is the heart of the matter.
"We are Jews by nature and not sinners from among the Gentiles; nevertheless knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the Law but through faith in Jesus Christ, even we have believed in Christ Jesus, so that we may be justified by faith in Christ and not by the works of the Law; since by the works of the Law no flesh will be justified." (Galatians 2:15-16 LSB)
Paul starts by acknowledging their shared heritage. "We are Jews by nature." By all the standards of the old covenant, they had every advantage. But, he says, "nevertheless." That is a massive turn. Despite all our Jewish privilege, we knew it was not enough. We knew that a man is not "justified" by the works of the Law. Justified is a legal term. It means to be declared righteous in the courtroom of God. Paul says that this declaration of "not guilty" does not come from our law-keeping, our obedience, our works. Why? "Since by the works of the Law no flesh will be justified." It is an impossibility. The law is good, but we are not. The law demands perfection, and we deliver rebellion. Therefore, the law can only condemn us.
So where does this righteous status come from? It comes "through faith in Jesus Christ." Faith is the instrument, the empty hand that receives the gift. It is not our faith that saves us, but Christ who saves us, through faith. Paul says "even we", we apostles, we Jews, "have believed in Christ Jesus" for this very reason: "so that we may be justified by faith in Christ." If anyone could have been justified by the law, it would have been devout Jews like them. But they abandoned that project entirely and cast themselves wholly upon Christ. Justification is not a process; it is a verdict. It is God declaring us righteous, not because of what we have done, but because He has imputed the perfect righteousness of His Son to our account.
Paul then addresses a potential objection. "But if, while seeking to be justified in Christ, we ourselves have also been found sinners, is Christ then a minister of sin? May it never be!" (v. 17). The Judaizers would argue that if you set aside the law, you are promoting sin. Paul's response is emphatic: "May it never be!" Christ does not lead us into sin. In fact, the real transgressor is the one who goes back to the law for righteousness. "For if I rebuild what I have once destroyed, I prove myself to be a transgressor" (v. 18). The thing destroyed was the system of justification by law-keeping. By separating from the Gentiles, Peter was rebuilding that wall. He was making himself a transgressor by returning to a system that Christ had fulfilled and abolished.
The Liberated Life (vv. 19-21)
The conclusion of Paul's argument is one of the most profound statements in all of Scripture about the nature of the Christian life. He explains how freedom from the law does not lead to lawlessness, but to a new kind of life altogether.
"For through the Law I died to the Law, so that I might live to God." (Galatians 2:19 LSB)
This is a stunning paradox. How can you die to the law through the law? The law performs its perfect work on you by condemning you. It sentences you to death. When you stand before the law, it says, "You have failed. The penalty is death." The gospel says, "Agreed." And in Christ, that death sentence has been carried out. The law has done its worst to you in the person of your substitute, Jesus Christ. Because you have died in Christ, the law no longer has any claims on you. Its jurisdiction has ended. You are dead to it. And the purpose of this death is life: "so that I might live to God." You are not set free from the law to live for yourself, but to live for God in a new way, not out of slavish fear, but out of grateful love.
"I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. And the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me." (Galatians 2:20 LSB)
Here is the secret. The old "I," the self that tried to justify itself by works, the self that was in bondage to sin, was nailed to the cross with Jesus. That man is dead and buried. So who is this person walking around in Paul's sandals? "It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me." This is the great mystery of union with Christ. Our new identity is Christ Himself, living His life in and through us by His Spirit. The Christian life is not imitation, but impartation. It is not us trying to be like Jesus, but Jesus being Himself in us.
This does not mean we become mindless robots. Paul says, "the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith." We still live in this body, in this world, with all its pressures and decisions. But the operating principle has changed. We no longer live by sight, or by feelings, or by the law, but by faith. And what is this faith in? It is faith "in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me." The entire Christian life is fueled by this personal, objective, historical reality. The cosmic Son of God loved me, Doug Wilson, and gave Himself for me. This is the anchor. This is the engine. This is the foundation for everything.
Paul concludes with a final, devastating blow to the Judaizing error.
"I do not set aside the grace of God, for if righteousness comes through the Law, then Christ died needlessly." (Galatians 2:21 LSB)
To go back to the law, to add any work as a condition for our justification, is to "set aside the grace of God." It is to nullify it, to treat it as nothing. If you can achieve a right standing with God through your own efforts, even in part, then the cross was a tragic and unnecessary waste. If your rule-keeping can get you one inch toward heaven, then Christ's death was a pointless tragedy. But if righteousness comes only through the crucified and risen Christ, then His death was the most necessary and glorious event in the history of the world. There are only two options: your righteousness or Christ's righteousness. There is no third way. Peter's lunchtime cowardice was an attempt to build a third way, and Paul demolished it with the truth of the gospel.
Conclusion: Live Crucified
What does this mean for us? It means everything. The pressure to compromise the gospel is just as strong today as it was in Antioch. The Judaizers are still with us. They may not be demanding circumcision, but they are demanding other things. They tell you that you are justified by faith in Jesus, plus your political affiliation. Plus your commitment to social justice. Plus your organic diet. Plus your quiet time performance. Plus your rejection of cultural taboos. They want to create new dividing walls in the church, new classes of Christians based on works of the law.
We must have the courage of Paul to see this for what it is: a betrayal of the gospel. We must be willing to confront it, even when it means confronting a respected leader. Our unity is not found in avoiding hard conversations, but in our shared standing at the foot of the cross.
And personally, you must live this out. You must reckon yourself to be what God says you are: crucified with Christ. The old you, the one who was always trying to measure up, the one who was terrified of what others think, the one who was enslaved to sin, is dead. Christ now lives in you. Your life is now to be lived by faith in the Son of God who loved you and gave Himself for you. That is your identity. That is your freedom. That is your righteousness. Do not set aside this grace. Do not insult the cross by trying to add your filthy works to its perfect achievement. Stand on this truth, eat with anyone who stands on it with you, and give all the glory to God.