There was a time when “paying it forward” was trending. There was even a movie about it. People were blessing others after being blessed. I first experienced it in a fast-food drive-thru. Pulling up to the window expected to pay for my order, the cashier handed me a receipt instead. “The guy in front of you already paid,” he said, smiling. No money exchanged. No contribution required. Just proof that the cost had already been covered.
In Paul’s opening to Galatians, he describes grace and peace as being accomplished by Jesus. He paid it all. There was no need for payment, and no contribution was required. The Lord offers us a receipt, not a bill.
“…who gave himself for our sins to deliver us from the present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father, to whom be the glory forever and ever. Amen.”
Galatians 1:4-5
When writing to the believers in Galatia, Paul urges them to receive the gift, since the cost has been paid in full. Returning payment is denying the gift. Here, Paul describes the cost, counsel, and crown of freedom.
The Cost of Freedom
In the previous verse, Paul wishes “grace” and “peace” to the Galatians. Grace—the sum of all blessings provided by God—is the source of freedom. Peace—the enjoyment of those blessings by the believer—is the experience of freedom. Both come to us through the “Lord Jesus Christ,” who is the “who” in this passage. And while freedom is freely given to us, Paul is careful to remind us that it came at a very real cost to Him.
Jesus “gave himself” (Gal. 1:4). We can’t miss the weight of those two words. It is possible to rejoice in the gift of salvation without ever lingering on the price by which it was purchased. But when we fail to do so, we rob ourselves of the moving realization that Jesus did not merely die as a victim of circumstance, but willingly placed Himself into the hands of His enemies for our sake.
Jesus Himself said, “I lay down my life that I may take it up again” and that “no one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord” (Jn. 10:17-18). At the cross, Matthew records that Jesus “yielded up his spirit,” emphasizing surrender, not compulsion (Matt. 27:50). His death was not a tragic interruption of His mission—it was the fulfillment of it. The cross was the voluntary payment consistent with His entire life. “For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mk. 10:45).
Paul then tells us why Christ gave Himself. It was “for our sins” (Gal. 1:4). The language is unmistakably transactional. A debt existed, and it had to be paid. We, who deserved death, received the life that Jesus lived. Jesus, who deserved life, received the death that we deserved. This is substitution. And it is precisely what the Galatians were in danger of forgetting as they drifted toward legalism.
To return to law-keeping as a means of acceptance before God is to treat Christ’s payment as insufficient—as though the receipt were incomplete and something remained due. But Scripture insists otherwise. “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21). Jesus willingly gave Himself to pay the full debt of our sins. Legalism does not honor that sacrifice. It denies it by attempting to add human effort to a finished work.
Yet Paul presses even further. Christ’s self-giving was not only a payment—it was a rescue. He gave Himself “to deliver us from the present evil age” (Gal. 1:4). The verb Paul uses is the language of extraction, of being pulled out from danger. It is not assistance for moral improvement, but deliverance from bondage. It echoes the great Exodus, when God rescued His people from the grip of an evil ruler. As Moses later testified, the Lord “delivered” His people from Pharaoh’s hand (Ex. 18:4).
The “present evil age” is a reference to a dominating order marked by rebellion, corruption, and spiritual slavery. And while its influence remains, its authority has been broken. Since the resurrection of Christ, this age is giving way to the age to come. Believers no longer belong to the old order—we have been rescued from it. We have had a transfer of allegiance. Freedom in Christ means we are no longer bound to live under the rule of sin, fear, or self-justification.
Later, Peter will write, “Jesus bore our sins in his body on the cross so that we might die to sin and live to righteousness; for by his wounds you were healed” (1 Pet. 2:24). The cost of freedom was nothing less than the self-giving of the Son of God. And because that cost has been paid in full, we are free—not only from guilt, but from the grip of the present evil age itself.
The question, then, is not whether freedom is costly—it is whether we will live as though the payment truly stands. Will we rest in the receipt Christ has given, or will we keep reaching for our wallets, trying to repay what has already been settled? True freedom begins when we stop paying and start trusting—and when we learn to live as those who have already been rescued.
The Counsel of Freedom
Having shown us the cost of freedom, Paul now draws our attention to its design. Christ gave Himself for our sins and rescued us from the present evil age, but none of this happened by accident. Rather, it happened “according to the will of our God and Father” (Gal. 1:4). Freedom is both accomplished and purposed. Behind the work of the Son stands the will of the Father, and behind both stands the unified counsel of the Triune God.
This phrase guards us from imagining the cross as a divine reaction to human failure. The Father was not reluctant, and the Son was not coerced. The gospel is not a story of competing wills within God, but of perfect agreement. Jesus Himself makes this clear when He says:
“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” (Jn. 10:18).
John 10:18
The Son acts freely, yet never independently. His authority to give His life is exercised in obedience to the Father’s will.
Legalism treats grace like a partial payment and obedience like the remainder due, but Christ paid in full.
The gospel of John reinforces this unity when it tells us that “God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son” (Jn. 3:16). In Galatians, Paul says the Son “gave himself” (Gal. 1:4). Both the Father and the Son gave. The Father gives by sending. The Son gives by offering Himself. Redemption flows from the eternal counsel of God
This is why Paul emphasizes the will of “our God and Father” (Gal. 1:4). The freedom Christ secured is the outworking of divine intention. The Father designed redemption. The Son accomplished redemption. And as the rest of Galatians will show, the Spirit applies redemption—bringing freedom into the hearts and lives of believers. Salvation, from start to finish, is the coordinated work of the Triune God.
Understanding this protects freedom from distortion. If salvation originated in human effort, it would need to be maintained by human effort. But because freedom arises from divine counsel, it rests on divine faithfulness. Legalism assumes that what God begins by grace must be completed by works. Paul insists otherwise. What was planned by the Father and accomplished by the Son cannot be improved by human additions.
To live in freedom, then, is to rest confidently within the will God. The same counsel that sent the Son to the cross now governs the believer’s life. Freedom is anchored in the eternal purpose of God. And because it was designed by the Father, exercised by the Son, and applied by the Spirit, it is as secure as God Himself.
The Crown of Freedom
Paul concludes his opening summary of the gospel with a doxology: “to whom be the glory forever and ever” (Gal. 1:5). It is the necessary conclusion of everything he has just said. Freedom has a final aim—the glory of God.
Notice the logic. Christ gave Himself for our sins. He rescued us from the present evil age. He did so according to the will of our God and Father. And the only fitting response is worship. For Paul, theology is doxological. When the gospel is rightly understood, praise is inevitable.
In other words, our freedom does not terminate on us. It does not exist so that we may become the center of our own lives. Quite the opposite. True freedom liberates us from self-absorption and restores us to our original purpose—to live for God’s glory. Sin enslaves by curving the heart inward. Redemption frees by reorienting the heart upward.
Paul’s doxology also reminds us that glory belongs to God alone. The Galatians were being tempted to share glory between Christ and human effort—to credit grace for beginning salvation but law-keeping for completing it. Paul will have none of that. If freedom is accomplished by Christ and designed by God, then glory cannot be divided. It must be given entirely to Him. Any attempt to reclaim credit for ourselves is not spiritual maturity—it is a return to bondage.
The phrase “forever and ever” presses this even further. God’s glory is eternal. Which means true freedom is the position to rightly live for God’s glory in its fullest expression. We are most free when we are most rightly ordered. This is the Jesus’ atoning work accomplished.
Maybe, this is where the gospel most confronts us personally. Returning to works is an attempt to reclaim the spotlight. It diverts the glory to us. It lays claim to freedom without surrendering the crown. But Paul reminds us that freedom is crowned only when God is praised. The same gospel that rescues us also dethones us—and that is good news.
Freedom, then, is not the right to rule ourselves. It is the joy of belonging to a better King. Christ paid the cost. The Father designed the plan. And now, redeemed sinners gladly return the crown out of awe for His majesty.
Closing
No one is compelled to try and pay for what we have already received a receipt. No one insists at the window to flip the bill that was already covered. We accept it gladly. And, we should do so with grace of God.
Legalism treats grace like a partial payment and obedience like the remainder due. But freedom has already been paid in full by Christ, planned by the Father, and sealed for God’s eternal glory. The only faithful response is to live a life of worship.
So when your heart reaches for your wallet—when you feel the urge to earn, prove, or add—remember the receipt. The cost is covered. The plan is settled. The glory belongs to God.
