Galatians 5:21

This verse is the tail end of a longer list in Galatians 5 that Paul — a former religious scholar who became one of the most important writers of early Christianity — calls the 'works of the flesh.' He is contrasting two ways of living: one driven by unguided human impulses, and one shaped by God's Spirit. The list includes both obvious vices like drunkenness and quieter ones like envy. The warning that those who 'live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God' is serious — but the crucial phrase is 'live like this,' which refers to a settled, ongoing pattern of life rather than a struggle or a stumble that someone is fighting against.

God, I don't want to read this list and immediately think of someone else. Show me the places in my own life where I've stopped calling things what they are. I don't want to be comfortable with what you're not comfortable with. Give me honesty, and then give me your grace for what I find. Amen.

Warnings in Scripture are easy to handle in two unhelpful ways: ignore them because they're uncomfortable, or pick them up and aim them at someone else. But Paul wrote this to people already inside the church — people who already called themselves followers of Jesus. And the list is broader and stranger than we usually admit. Yes, it includes sexual immorality and drunkenness. But envy is on it too. The mundane rot of jealousy sits right next to the flashy sins. Paul seems equally alarmed by both, which suggests God is paying attention to more of your interior life than just the dramatic stuff. The phrase 'those who live like this' is the hinge everything swings on. Paul isn't describing a bad week, a sin you're ashamed of, or something you're fighting against every day. He's describing a settled orientation — a life where certain things have become so routine they go unremarked and unchallenged. The honest, uncomfortable question this raises isn't about the person sitting next to you. It's about you: is there anything on this list that's become so normal in your own life that you've quietly stopped calling it what it is? Not to generate guilt — but because naming something honestly is almost always the first step toward freedom.