In order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.
Romans 8:4
When you read the letters of Paul in the Bible, you can feel Paul’s personality. These letters were written to real people and communities in the early Christian movement, and Paul at times writes rather candidly and sarcastically.
Given the long history of translations and institutional appropriations of Paul’s epistles, you have to read carefully and know what to look for to see these glimmers of his personal tics. It’s right there in the text though — Paul is a man writing in a real historical context, full of emotion.
One of Paul’s most aggressive statements in terms of emotional insult and humanness is Galatians 5:12-15. Paul is writing to the Galatians, a group of Gentile Christians in what is now central Turkey, and he is deeply upset because a new subset of Christian thought has taken hold there that insists on rigid adherence to the Mosaic Law—a belief system that accepted Christ but also demanded full commitment to Hebrew law, including circumcision and other legal requirements. Paul is livid.
At an emotional high point, he says: Ὄφελον καὶ ἀποκόψονται οἱ ἀναστατοῦντες ὑμᾶς (Galatians 5:12). The sanitized English versions in most Bibles read, “I wish those who unsettle you would emasculate themselves.” But it literally comes across more sardonically:“I wish those pushing circumcision on you would just go all the way and castrate themselves.”
I don’t bring up this passage to highlight crude humor in the Bible, but to ask: Why was Paul so upset that he launched this insult? And what does that reveal about his beliefs and his faith in Christ?
It’s critical to note that Paul isn’t categorically against circumcision, nor is that what he is upset about here. His anger is directed at the larger issue of new Christian communities becoming obsessed with law and structure instead of having faith that Christ has saved us, and we live under a new covenant.
Understanding this context makes some of Paul’s more poetic statements, in particular Romans 8:3-5, much more vibrant and meaningful.
For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do: by sending his Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and to deal with sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, so that the just requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.
For Paul, Adam and Eve’s rebellion enslaved humanity to sin and death. While God gave the Law—His Word in the Old Testament—it was impossible for humans to fulfill it perfectly. Even Moses, the great lawgiver, was barred from entering the Promised Land for a single act of disobedience (Numbers 20:12), showing that no one could meet God’s perfect standard.
God then offered the sacrifice of His Son, the Christ, whose miraculous birth, death, and resurrection accomplished the impossible. The Word was made flesh, and through this ultimate sacrifice, humanity was not saved simply through laws, but through the grace of God and the new Adam, Christ.
For me, this has always represented a deep and complex tension regarding the meaning of life. Where does salvation lie? In a divine law — or in a faith that transcends all reason? This is the urgent imperative of Paul’s letter to the Galatians and to us today. Do we believe that God has incarnated His Son to save us? Do we believe that impossible miracles have occurred on Earth?
