Sent with A Message

Galatians 1:1–5 ESV

1 Paul, an apostle—not from men nor through man, but through Jesus Christ and God the Father, who raised him from the dead— 2 and all the brothers who are with me, To the churches of Galatia: 3 Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, 4 who gave himself for our sins to deliver us from the present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father, 5 to whom be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

Introduction

When someone knocks on your door, the first thing you want to know is: Who sent you?

When someone knocks on your door, the first thing you want to know is: Who sent you? If it's a delivery driver with a package you ordered, you open the door. If it's someone you don't recognize with no credentials, you're a little more cautious. The messenger matters because it tells you whether you can trust the message.

If it's a delivery driver holding a package with your name on it, you open the door. If it's someone claiming to be from the utility company but they don't have a badge, an ID, or a uniform—you're a little more cautious. You might say, "Hold on, let me call the office and verify." Because you've learned that not everybody who shows up at your door has your best interest in mind. Some people come to deliver. Some people come to deceive.

The messenger matters because it tells you whether you can trust the message.

Paul is about to deliver some hard words to the Galatian churches. They've been drifting from the gospel, adding requirements that God never added. But before Paul corrects them, he has to establish something: I didn't make this up. I wasn't sent by a committee. I wasn't credentialed by a denomination. Jesus Christ Himself called me, and the message I carry is the same one that raised Him from the dead.

Paul is writing to the churches in Galatia because some unauthorized messengers have shown up at their door. These false teachers came with a different gospel—one that said faith in Jesus wasn't enough. You also need circumcision. You also need to keep the Jewish law. You need Jesus plus your performance.

And Paul is about to spend six chapters dismantling that lie. But before he does, he has to establish something foundational: I didn't make this up. I wasn't sent by a committee. I wasn't credentialed by a denomination. Jesus Christ Himself called me on the Damascus road, and the message I carry is the message that surrounds Jesus, the Cross, and His resurrection.

In just five verses, Paul gives us the gospel in miniature—who Jesus is, what He did, why He did it, and where it's all heading. This is the foundation for everything that follows in Galatians. So let's look at this text together under three headings: The Messenger's Authority, The Message's Content, and The Mission's Purpose.

In just five verses, Paul gives us the gospel in miniature—who Jesus is, what He did, why He did it, and where it's all heading. This is the foundation for everything that follows.

So let's look at this text together first beginning with the Messenger’s Authority.

I. The Messenger's Authority (vv. 1-2)

Galatians 1:1–2 ESV

1 Paul, an apostle—not from men nor through man, but through Jesus Christ and God the Father, who raised him from the dead— 2 and all the brothers who are with me, To the churches of Galatia:

Paul opens with his credentials: "Paul, an apostle—not from men nor through man, but through Jesus Christ and God the Father, who raised him from the dead."

Paul opens with his credentials: "Paul, an apostle—not from men nor through man, but through Jesus Christ and God the Father."

Now, this might sound like Paul is being arrogant—leading with his title, making sure everybody knows who he is. But understand: Paul's authority was under attack. The false teachers in Galatia were saying, "Who is this Paul anyway? He wasn't one of the original twelve. He never walked with Jesus in Galilee. Why should we listen to him?"

So Paul has to establish his credentials—not for his ego, but for their protection. Because if they reject Paul's authority, they'll reject Paul's gospel. And if they reject Paul's gospel, they'll be left with a counterfeit that can't save anybody.

Illustration: Imagine you're in the hospital, and a man walks in wearing scrubs. He says, "I'm here to perform your surgery." Before he puts you under, you'd want to know: Where did you train? Are you board certified? Do you have privileges at this hospital? You're not being difficult—you're being wise. Because if this man doesn't have real credentials, you don't want him cutting on you.

That word "apostle"—in the Greek, apostolos (ἀπόστολος)—means "sent one." But it's more than just being sent on an errand. An apostolos carried the full authority of the one who sent him. When an apostle spoke, it was as if the sender himself was speaking. Think of it like a presidential envoy. When the ambassador speaks to a foreign government, they're not sharing their personal opinions—they're representing the one who sent them.

The same principle applies to spiritual teaching. Before you let someone operate on your soul, you better know who sent them.

That word "apostle"—in the Greek, apostolos (ἀπόστολος)—means "sent one." But it's more than just being sent on an errand. An apostolos carried the full authority of the one who sent him. When an apostle spoke, it was as if the sender himself was speaking.

Now look at Paul's double negative: "not from men nor through man." In Greek, he uses two different prepositions to make his point airtight. The first, apo (ἀπό), means "from"—as in the source or origin. The second, dia (διά), means "through"—as in the channel or instrument.

Now look at Paul's double negative: "not from men nor through man." In Greek, he uses two different prepositions to make his point airtight. The first, apo (ἀπό), means "from"—as in the source or origin. The second, dia (διά), means "through"—as in the channel or instrument. Paul is saying: The source of my apostleship isn't human, and the channel of my apostleship isn't human either. No council appointed me. No bishop ordained me. No seminary credentialed me. Jesus Christ called me directly on the Damascus road, and God the Father—the same one who raised Jesus from the dead—confirmed it.

Paul is saying: The source of my apostleship isn't human, and the channel of my apostleship isn't human either. No council appointed me. No bishop ordained me. No seminary credentialed me. Jesus Christ called me directly on the Damascus road, and God the Father—the same one who raised Jesus from the dead—confirmed it.

We live in a world that's constantly questioning authority.

People want to know: Who gave you the right to say that? Who are you? Who do you think you are? And honestly, in some ways that skepticism is healthy. We've seen too many leaders abuse their authority. We've seen pastors fall. We've seen institutions cover up scandals. So when someone claims to speak for God, people are right to ask: "Where did you get that from?"

And when it comes to the gospel, the answer has to be: God did. The message we preach isn't something the church invented. It isn't a human philosophy dressed up in religious language. It comes from the same God who raised Jesus from the dead.

Why does this matter for us today? Because we live in a world that's constantly questioning authority. People want to know: Who gave you the right to say that? And when it comes to the gospel, the answer has to be: God did. The message we preach isn't something the church invented. It isn't a human philosophy dressed up in religious language. It comes from the same God who raised Jesus from the dead. That's why Paul mentions the resurrection right here in verse 1—because the resurrection is God's stamp of approval on everything Jesus said and did.

That's why Paul mentions the resurrection right here in verse 1. Think about it: What's the ultimate credential? What proves that someone really has God's backing? The resurrection. When God raised Jesus from the dead, He put His stamp of approval on everything Jesus said and did. And when the risen Christ appeared to Paul on that road, He put His stamp of approval on Paul's ministry.

The resurrection is God's receipt. It's heaven's verification. It's the proof that this message is legitimate.

So let me ask you this morning: What is your life built on?

If it's built on human wisdom—the latest self-help book, the newest philosophy, whatever's trending on social media—that foundation is going to shift. Human ideas come and go. What's popular today is outdated tomorrow.

Church, if the gospel came from human beings, we could edit it, update it, or discard it when it becomes inconvenient. But because it comes from God, we receive it, we believe it, and we obey it—even when it challenges us.

But if your life is built on the gospel that comes from God—the same gospel that raised Jesus from the dead—you're standing on something that cannot be shaken. Heaven and earth will pass away, but this Word will never pass away.

Church, if the gospel came from human beings, we could edit it, update it, or discard it when it becomes inconvenient. But because it comes from God, we receive it, we believe it, and we obey it—even when it challenges us.

TRANSITION: So the messenger has divine authority. Paul isn't freelancing—he's been sent by the risen Christ Himself. But authority alone isn't enough. A messenger can have all the credentials in the world, but if the message is empty, what good is it? So Paul moves from who sent him to what he's been sent to say. Let’s look at the. . .

II. The Message's Content (vv. 3-4)

Galatians 1:3–4 ESV

3 Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, 4 who gave himself for our sins to deliver us from the present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father,

Look at verses 3 and 4: "Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins to deliver us from the present evil age."

Now Paul delivers his greeting: "Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins to deliver us from the present evil age."

"Grace and peace"—charis kai eirene (χάρις καὶ εἰρήνη). Now, this might sound like a throwaway greeting, like when we say "Hey, how you doing?" and don't really expect an answer. But this is loaded language.

"Grace"—charis—is a Greek word. "Peace"—eirene, which translates the Hebrew shalom—is a Jewish concept. Paul is bridging two worlds. He's saying to Jews and Gentiles alike: What God offers in Christ is for everyone. This isn't just for one tribe, one culture, one background. The grace and peace of God crosses every boundary.

"Grace and peace"—charis kai eirene (χάρις καὶ εἰρήνη). This wasn't just a throwaway greeting like "Hey, how you doing?" Grace is the Greek word; peace—shalom—is the Hebrew concept. Paul is bridging two worlds, Jew and Gentile, and saying: What God offers in Christ is for everyone.

Can I pause right here?

Maybe you grew up thinking the gospel wasn't really for people like you. Maybe you came from a background where church folk looked down on your family. Maybe you've been told—directly or indirectly—that you need to clean yourself up before God will accept you.

Grace and peace. It's for you. Right where you are. Just as you are. Not after you get yourself together—right now.

But notice the order. It's always grace first, then peace. You'll never find Paul saying "peace and grace." It's always grace, then peace. Why? Because you can't have peace with God until you've received grace from God.

But notice the order. It's always grace first, then peace. You can't have peace with God until you've received grace from God. Peace isn't something you achieve through effort or earn through performance. Peace is the result of grace. When God extends His unmerited favor to you through Christ, the war is over. The hostility is removed. You're no longer an enemy—you're a child.

Think about it like this. Imagine you owe a massive debt—more than you could ever repay. Every month the creditor calls, and every month you dodge the call because you can't pay. You can't sleep at night. You're anxious all the time. You see an unknown number and your heart rate goes up. There's no peace because there's unresolved debt.

But then imagine someone pays that debt for you. Completely. The balance is zero. Now when that creditor's number pops up, you can answer with a smile. "Yes? How can I help you?" Because the debt is gone. That's grace producing peace.

Peace isn't something you achieve through effort or earn through performance. Peace is the result of grace. When God extends His unmerited favor to you through Christ, the war is over. The hostility is removed. You're no longer an enemy—you're His child.

Now Paul unpacks the gospel in a single verse—verse 4. Look at it closely: "who gave himself for our sins to deliver us from the present evil age." Let me break this down into three parts.

Then Paul unpacks the gospel in a single verse—verse 4. Look at it closely: "who gave himself for our sins to deliver us from the present evil age."

First, Christ gave Himself.

Notice: He gave Himself. Nobody took His life. He wasn't a victim. He wasn't overpowered by the Romans or outsmarted by the Pharisees. Jesus said in John 10:18, "No one takes my life from me, but I lay it down of my own accord."

John 10:18 ESV

18 No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again. This charge I have received from my Father.”

You know what this reminds me of? I think about parents who sacrifice for their children. A mother working two jobs so her kids can have opportunities she never had. A father going without so his children can go to college. Nobody forced them. They gave themselves willingly because of love.

Three things here:

But even that falls short. Because Jesus didn't just give His time or His money or His comfort. He gave Himself. His body broken. His blood poured out. His life surrendered. This is love in action—not sentimental, not abstract, but sacrificial.

Second, He gave Himself for our sins.

Not for our good works. Not for our potential. Not for our good intentions. For our sins.

The gospel doesn't start with how great you are—it starts with how lost you were. We had a sin problem that we couldn't fix. A debt we couldn't pay. A death we couldn't escape. And Jesus stepped in and gave Himself in our place.

First, Christ gave Himself. The Greek is tou dontos heauton (τοῦ δόντος ἑαυτὸν)—"the one having given himself." Nobody took His life. He wasn't a victim of circumstances. He laid it down voluntarily. This is love in action—not sentimental, not abstract, but sacrificial. He gave Himself.

I know this isn't popular preaching. Our culture wants to hear about your best life now, your purpose, your destiny, your potential. And I'm not against any of that. But the gospel starts somewhere else. It starts with the bad news before it gets to the good news.

You don't appreciate a rescue until you realize you were drowning.

Some of us are trying to clean up our act so God will accept us. But we’ve got it backwards. God accepts us through Christ so He can clean up our act. Christ didn't die for the righteous—He died for sinners. And if you're a sinner, that's good news. It means this sacrifice was for you.

Third, He did it to deliver us.

Second, He gave Himself for our sins. Not for our good works. Not for our potential. For our sins. The gospel doesn't start with how great you are—it starts with how lost you were. We had a sin problem that we couldn't solve, a debt we couldn't pay, a death we couldn't escape. And Jesus stepped in and gave Himself in our place.

That word "deliver"—exelētai (ἐξέληται)—means to rescue, to pluck out, to snatch from danger. It's the same word you'd use for pulling someone out of a burning building or snatching a child from oncoming traffic. It's urgent. It's physical. It's life-or-death.

And look at what we're delivered from: "the present evil age." Not just future hell—though that's included. But the present evil age. This world system, with its values, its priorities, its rebellion against God, had us locked in. We were trapped in patterns of sin, cycles of dysfunction, systems of oppression—both spiritual and social. And Jesus broke in and pulled us out.

Let me paint a picture. Some of you know what it's like to grow up in an environment where certain paths seemed inevitable. The neighborhood you were in, the family patterns you saw, the limited options that seemed available. People told you, "This is just how it is. This is who you are. This is where you'll always be."

But then somebody intervened. Maybe it was a teacher who saw potential. Maybe it was a mentor who opened a door. Maybe it was someone who literally pulled you out of a situation and gave you a different future.

Third, He did it to deliver us. That word "deliver"—exelētai (ἐξέληται)—means to rescue, to pluck out, to snatch from danger. It's the same word you'd use for pulling someone out of a burning building. We weren't just in trouble; we were trapped in "the present evil age." This world system—with its values, its priorities, its rebellion against God—had us locked in. And Jesus broke in and pulled us out.

That's a shadow of what Christ has done spiritually. He reached into the domain of darkness and snatched you out. He broke the power of the present evil age over your life and transferred you to a new kingdom.

Here's my concern, church. Some of us have been delivered, but we're still living like we're trapped.

We received Christ, but we're still operating by the world's playbook. Still chasing the world's approval. Still measuring ourselves by the world's standards. Still anxious about the world's concerns. Still letting the world tell us what success looks like, what beauty looks like, what security looks like.

But the gospel says you've been delivered. You've been snatched out. You don't belong to this age anymore. So stop letting it dictate your peace. Stop letting it define your worth. Stop letting it determine your direction.

Can I tell you something? Some of us are still living like we're trapped. We received Christ, but we're still operating by the world's playbook—chasing the world's approval, measuring ourselves by the world's standards, anxious about the world's concerns. But the gospel says you've been delivered. You've been snatched out. You don't belong to this age anymore. So stop letting it dictate your peace.

You're not a prisoner anymore. Why are you still sitting in the cell?

TRANSITION: Why did God send this messenger? Why did Christ give Himself? What's the ultimate purpose? Paul tells us in verse 5, and it's the key to everything. I’ts what I like to call. . .

III. The Mission's Purpose (v. 5)

Galatians 1:5 ESV

5 to whom be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

Verse 4 ends and verse 5 begins: "according to the will of our God and Father, to whom be the glory forever and ever. Amen."

Two massive truths here.

Paul closes this section with a doxology: "according to the will of our God and Father, to whom be the glory forever and ever. Amen."

First: Your salvation was planned. "According to the will of our God and Father."

Everything we just read—Christ's giving of Himself, His sacrifice for sins, our deliverance from this evil age—it all happened according to the Father's will. This wasn't Plan B. This wasn't a reaction to human failure. This wasn't God scrambling to fix something that went wrong.

Before the foundation of the world, the Father planned your rescue. The cross wasn't an accident; it was an appointment. Your salvation was on God's calendar before time began.

Everything we just read—Christ's giving of Himself, His sacrifice for sins, our deliverance from this evil age—it all happened "according to the will of our God and Father." This wasn't Plan B. This wasn't a reaction to human failure. Before the foundation of the world, the Father planned your rescue. The cross wasn't an accident; it was an appointment.

Think about how differently we feel when something is planned versus when it's an afterthought. If someone gives you a birthday gift that they clearly grabbed at the gas station on the way over—a random air freshener still in the plastic—you appreciate the thought, but it doesn't mean that much. But if someone gives you a gift and you find out they've been planning it for months, saving for it, looking for just the right one—that changes everything.

Your salvation isn't a gas station gift. God has been planning it from eternity. You were chosen in Christ before the foundation of the world. He set His love on you before you ever existed. This wasn't last-minute—this was eternal.

When you're having one of those days where you feel like a mistake, where you wonder if you matter, where you question whether anyone sees you—remember this: Before time began, God had you in mind. You're not an accident. You're not an afterthought. You're part of an eternal plan.

Second: Your salvation has a purpose. "To whom be the glory forever and ever."

Where does it all lead? What's the ultimate goal of your deliverance? Not your comfort—His glory. Not your happiness—His praise. Not your platform—His fame.

Now, this doesn't mean God doesn't care about you. He cares deeply. The cross proves how much He cares. But He cares about you in the context of something bigger than you—His eternal glory being displayed through redeemed people.

And where does it all lead? "To whom be the glory forever and ever." The ultimate purpose of your salvation isn't your comfort—it's His glory. The ultimate purpose of your deliverance isn't your happiness—it's His praise. This doesn't mean God doesn't care about you. He cares deeply. But He cares about you in the context of something bigger than you—His eternal glory being displayed through redeemed people.

Let me try to illustrate this. Imagine you were drowning, and someone jumped in and saved your life. Now you have a choice. You could spend the rest of your life talking about how great it is to be alive, how good it feels to breathe, how nice it is to be dry—all focused on your experience. Or you could spend your life telling everyone about the one who saved you, making sure his name is known, his courage is celebrated, his sacrifice is remembered.

Both responses acknowledge the rescue. But only one gives glory where glory is due.

Too much of modern Christianity is focused on the rescued and not the Rescuer. We talk endlessly about our blessings, our breakthroughs, our victories—and there's nothing wrong with gratitude. But if it ends with us, we've missed the point. The purpose of your salvation is His glory.

Here's where this connects to the problem in Galatia—and to problems we still have today.

When we add requirements to the gospel, we're stealing glory from God and giving it to ourselves. When we think our performance is what makes us acceptable, we're saying Christ's sacrifice wasn't enough. We're saying, "Yes, Jesus did a lot, but let me add the finishing touches."

That's what the false teachers in Galatia were doing. "Faith is great, but you also need circumcision. Grace is wonderful, but you also need law-keeping." And every addition to the gospel is a subtraction from God's glory.

This is where the Galatians got off track—and where we get off track too. When we add requirements to the gospel, we're stealing glory from God and giving it to ourselves. When we think our performance is what makes us acceptable, we're saying Christ's sacrifice wasn't enough. But Paul wants us to know: It was enough. It is enough. And everything—your salvation, your sanctification, your eternal destiny—is meant to display the glory of the One who rescued you.

We do the same thing today. We say, "Christ saved me, but I've maintained my salvation through my faithfulness." Or, "Grace got me in, but my works will keep me in." Or even subtly, "I'm acceptable to God because I go to church, pay my tithes, and live right."

But Paul wants us to know: It was enough. It is enough. Christ's self-giving was completely sufficient. And when we add to it, we're not helping—we're hindering. We're not honoring God—we're robbing Him of glory.

So let me ask you: What have you been adding to the gospel?

What do you secretly believe is required for God to really accept you? What performance standard have you set that makes you feel worthy of His love?

Lay it down. Not because obedience doesn't matter—it does. But obedience is the fruit of salvation, not the root. It's the evidence of grace, not the condition for it. When you rest completely in what Christ has done, you actually become more obedient, not less. Because you're not working for acceptance anymore—you're working from acceptance.

We are not saved because we are good. We are good because we are saved

Conclusion

As we launch this journey through Galatians, Paul wants us to get the foundation right. The gospel isn't a human invention—it comes from God through Christ. The gospel isn't a self-help program—it's a rescue mission for sinners. And the gospel isn't about our glory—it's about His.

As we launch this journey through Galatians, Paul wants us to get the foundation right.

Grace Baptist, for eighty years this church has stood on this gospel. Not because it was popular, but because it's true. Not because it was easy, but because it's powerful. The same message that transformed Paul on the Damascus road, the same message that planted churches across Galatia, the same message that has sustained this congregation through eight decades—that message is still true today.

The gospel isn't a human invention—it comes from God through Christ. That's the messenger's authority. The gospel isn't a self-help program—it's a rescue mission for sinners. That's the message's content. And the gospel isn't about our glory—it's about His. That's the mission's purpose.

Grace Baptist, for eighty years this church has stood on this gospel. Not because it was popular, but because it's true. Not because it was easy, but because it's powerful. The same message that transformed Paul on the Damascus road, the same message that planted churches across Galatia, the same message that has sustained this congregation through eight decades—that message is still true today.

So receive it. Rest in it. And give glory to the God who sent His Son to rescue you from this present evil age. Amen.

So receive it. Rest in it. And give glory to the God who planned your rescue, sent His Son to accomplish it, and will get the praise for it forever and ever.