Galatians 4:12-20

The Agony of a Spiritual Father Text: Galatians 4:12-20

Introduction: When Truth Becomes the Enemy

In the Christian life, and particularly in the life of a local church, there are few things more painful than a relationship that begins in great warmth and affection, only to curdle into suspicion and hostility. This is a common sorrow, and one that every faithful pastor will eventually taste. The Apostle Paul, in our text today, is in the throes of this very agony. He is writing to a people he dearly loves, a people who once received him as though he were Christ Jesus Himself. They would have given him their own eyes. But now, something has gone terribly wrong. The Judaizers, those peddlers of a grace-plus-works gospel, have slithered into the Galatian churches and have begun to systematically dismantle Paul's work. And their primary tactic, as is always the case with such men, was to poison the relationship between the people and their spiritual father.

They could not refute Paul’s gospel, so they attacked Paul’s character. They whispered that he was a second-rate apostle, that his gospel was a watered-down, Gentile-friendly version of the real thing, and that his motives were suspect. And the Galatians, tragically, were beginning to listen. This is why Paul's tone in this section shifts so dramatically. He moves from dense theological argument to a raw, emotional, deeply personal appeal. He is not just a theologian defending a doctrine; he is a father pleading for his children. He is in anguish, not because his ego is bruised, but because his children are being kidnapped into slavery, and they are starting to think the kidnappers are their friends.

This passage is a master class in pastoral ministry. It shows us the heart of a true shepherd. It is a heart that is willing to be vulnerable, to appeal to past affection, to rebuke sharply, and to express profound perplexity and pain, all for the sake of the flock. And it forces us to ask a very pointed question: what happens when the man who tells you the truth becomes your enemy? What does that say about the truth? And what does it say about you?


The Text

I beg of you, brothers, become as I am, for I also have become as you are. You have done me no wrong. But you know that it was because of a bodily illness that I proclaimed the gospel to you the first time; and that which was a trial to you in my bodily condition you did not despise or loathe, but you received me as an angel of God, as Christ Jesus Himself. Where then is that sense of blessing you had? For I testify to you that, if possible, you would have plucked out your eyes and given them to me. So have I become your enemy by telling you the truth? They zealously seek you, not commendably, but they wish to shut you out so that you will zealously seek them. But it is good always to be zealously sought in a commendable manner, and not only when I am present with you. My children, with whom I am again in labor until Christ is formed in you, but I could wish to be present with you now and to change my tone, because I am perplexed about you.
(Galatians 4:12-20 LSB)

A Mutual Identification (v. 12)

Paul begins his personal appeal with a plea for identification and a surprising absolution.

"I beg of you, brothers, become as I am, for I also have become as you are. You have done me no wrong." (Galatians 4:12)

The first part of this verse is a beautiful summary of gospel-centered ministry. "Become as I am," Paul says. What does he mean? He means, "Be free from the law as I am free from the law. Embrace the liberty in Christ that I now enjoy." Paul, the former Hebrew of Hebrews, the Pharisee, the zealous persecutor, had died to all of that. He had counted it all as rubbish for the sake of Christ (Phil. 3:8). He is asking them to join him in that freedom.

But notice the basis for his appeal: "for I also have become as you are." When Paul, a Jew, came to the Gentiles in Galatia, he did not demand that they become Jews. He met them where they were. He lived like a Gentile, not being under the ceremonial law, in order to win them (1 Cor. 9:21). He laid aside his Jewish distinctives to identify with them completely for the sake of the gospel. He is now asking them to return the favor. "I set aside my heritage to win you to Christ; do not now take up a counterfeit version of that heritage and lose Christ." This is the principle of gospel condescension. We meet people where they are, not to leave them there, but to bring them to Christ.

Then he says something remarkable: "You have done me no wrong." At first glance, this seems untrue. They are on the verge of abandoning his gospel, they are questioning his apostleship, they are treating him like an enemy. But Paul is a wise pastor. He knows that a direct, frontal assault at this point might only harden their hearts. So he grants them a provisional pardon. He is saying, "The initial wrong was not done by you, but to you. You are the victims of these Judaizing sharks. My quarrel is not primarily with you, but with them." He is creating space for them to repent without losing face. He is separating the sin from the sinner, the deception from the deceived. He is building a bridge for them to come back across.


Remembering a Glorious Reception (v. 13-15)

Paul then takes them back in time, reminding them of how their relationship began.

"But you know that it was because of a bodily illness that I proclaimed the gospel to you the first time; and that which was a trial to you in my bodily condition you did not despise or loathe, but you received me as an angel of God, as Christ Jesus Himself. Where then is that sense of blessing you had? For I testify to you that, if possible, you would have plucked out your eyes and given them to me." (Galatians 4:13-15)

We are not told what Paul's "bodily illness" was. Some have speculated it was a recurring malarial fever, epilepsy, or a debilitating eye disease, which might make sense of the "plucked out your eyes" comment. But whatever it was, it was repulsive. The word for "loathe" can be translated "to spit out." In the ancient world, a physical ailment was often seen as a sign of divine disfavor. A messenger from the gods was supposed to be impressive, not pathetic. So Paul shows up, physically weak, perhaps unsightly, certainly not the picture of apostolic power. His condition was a "trial" to them. It tested their ability to see past the humble vessel to the glorious treasure within.

And they passed the test with flying colors. They did not despise him. They didn't treat him with contempt. Instead, they received him as an "angel of God," as a messenger from heaven. More than that, they received him "as Christ Jesus Himself." This is a direct echo of the Lord's own words: "The one who receives you receives Me" (Matt. 10:40). They understood that the authority of the message was not dependent on the charisma of the messenger. They received the gospel with joy.

Their initial response was so full of love and gratitude that Paul says they would have performed a gruesome act of self-sacrifice for him. "You would have plucked out your eyes and given them to me." This is a graphic, proverbial way of saying their love for him knew no bounds. They were filled with a "sense of blessing," a deep joy and contentment that comes from resting in the finished work of Christ alone.

Paul's question hangs in the air, heavy with sorrow: "Where then is that sense of blessing you had?" What happened to the joy? Legalism is a joy-killer. The moment you add your works, your performance, your obedience to the Sabbath or circumcision to the gospel of grace, the joy evaporates. It is replaced by the gnawing anxiety of performance. You are back on the treadmill, trying to earn what can only be received as a gift. Paul is saying, "Just look at the fruit. When you believed my gospel, you were full of joy and love. Now that you are listening to these other men, you are full of suspicion, anxiety, and your love for me has grown cold. Can't you see that the fruit of their ministry is rotten?"


The Truth-Teller as Enemy (v. 16-18)

This leads to the heart of the problem. The relationship has been inverted.

"So have I become your enemy by telling you the truth?" (Galatians 4:16)

This is one of the most penetrating questions in all of Scripture. It reveals the mechanics of apostasy. When a man's heart begins to drift from the truth, his affections will follow. He will begin to resent the very man he once loved for preaching that truth. The truth, which was once a source of blessing, now feels like an attack. The preacher, who was once a messenger of God, now seems like an enemy. This is a spiritual fever. When you have the flu, good food tastes bad. When you have a spiritual sickness, the good food of the gospel tastes like poison, and the preacher serving it becomes your adversary.

Paul then exposes the motives of his rivals. They are not motivated by love for the Galatians, but by a desire for their own glory.

"They zealously seek you, not commendably, but they wish to shut you out so that you will zealously seek them. But it is good always to be zealously sought in a commendable manner, and not only when I am present with you." (Galatians 4:17-18)

The Judaizers are "zealously seeking" the Galatians. They are courting them, flattering them, paying them a great deal of attention. But their zeal is "not commendable." It is the zeal of a cult leader, not a shepherd. Their goal is "to shut you out." To shut them out from what? From Paul, from the true gospel, and ultimately from Christ. They want to isolate the Galatians, to create a dependency on them. They want to cut them off from their true spiritual father so that the Galatians will then "zealously seek them." It is a classic move of spiritual abusers: isolate, indoctrinate, and create dependency. They are not building up the church; they are building their own little faction.

Paul is not against zeal. He says it is good to be zealously sought, but it must be "in a commendable manner." True gospel zeal seeks to connect people to Christ, not to the minister. False zeal seeks to bind people to a personality or a system. Paul's zeal for the Galatians was for their good, whether he was physically with them or not. The Judaizers' zeal was self-serving and manipulative.


The Pains of Spiritual Childbirth (v. 19-20)

Paul concludes this section with a raw, startling metaphor for his pastoral love and a confession of his deep frustration.

"My children, with whom I am again in labor until Christ is formed in you, but I could wish to be present with you now and to change my tone, because I am perplexed about you." (Galatians 4:19-20)

He calls them "My children," a term of deep affection. And then he says he is "again in labor" for them. This is an astonishing image. Paul, the apostle, pictures himself as a mother in the agony of childbirth. The first time he was in labor was when he first preached the gospel to them, and they were born again. It was a painful, arduous process. Now, because of the Judaizers, he has to go through it all over again. They are in a state of arrested development, or worse, they are regressing spiritually. The whole process of their conversion has to be repeated.

And what is the goal of this labor? "Until Christ is formed in you." This is the goal of all true Christian ministry. It is not about behavior modification or getting people to adhere to a set of rules. It is about the very character and likeness of Jesus Christ being fully formed in the believer. It is about the gospel taking root so deeply that it transforms a person from the inside out. The Judaizers were concerned with forming the flesh, with the external mark of circumcision. Paul was concerned with forming Christ in the soul.

His final words in this section are a cry from the heart. He wishes he could be there in person. A letter is a blunt instrument. Face to face, he could "change his tone." He could read their expressions, respond to their questions, and modulate his voice with the right mixture of sternness and tenderness. As it is, he is stuck. He is "perplexed." The word means to be at a complete loss, to not know which way to turn. This is not the perplexity of doctrinal confusion. Paul is not confused about the gospel. He is perplexed about them. He cannot understand how a people who started so well, who experienced such joy and freedom, could be so easily duped by this flimsy, joyless, enslaving counterfeit. It is the bewilderment of a loving father watching his child make a disastrously foolish choice.


Conclusion: The Truth Test

This passage puts a stethoscope to the heart of our relationship with God and with those He has sent to preach His Word to us. It provides us with a crucial diagnostic test. When you hear the unvarnished truth of the gospel, a gospel of radical grace that demands you contribute nothing to your salvation but the sin that made it necessary, what is your reaction?

Does it fill you with that "sense of blessing?" Does it produce in you a deep, settled joy and a profound love for the Christ who did it all, and for the messenger who brought you the good news? Or does it make you uncomfortable? Does the preacher of that grace begin to feel like an enemy? Do you find yourself drawn to teachers who will give you a little something to do, a little checklist to follow, a little bit of religious ceremony to make you feel like you are contributing to the project?

If you find yourself bristling at the truth, if the preacher of grace has become your enemy, the problem is not with the truth or the preacher. The problem is that you are sick. You have been listening to the whispers of the Judaizers. You are being courted by those who want to shut you out from the glorious liberty of the children of God. They want to put you back in slavery, and they will flatter you all the way to the auction block.

The only cure is to allow the apostle to do his work. To allow him to travail in birth for you again. The goal is to have Christ formed in you. This is not a matter of trying harder. It is a matter of returning to the simple, glorious truth that set you free in the first place. It is about looking away from your performance and looking to Christ's performance. It is about remembering that initial joy, and asking where it went. And it went where it always goes when legalism enters the room. It fled. The only way to get it back is to repent of the legalism, to turn your back on the slave traders, and to run back into the arms of your true Father, who welcomes you not because of your circumcision, but because of Christ's cross.