May 25th, 2026
by Todd Kaunitz
by Todd Kaunitz
Have you ever noticed how a vehicle with poor alignment will naturally pull you off the road? You might start on the pavement, but before long, you're drifting toward the ditch. The same principle applies to our spiritual lives. When our hearts aren't properly aligned with the gospel, we inevitably drift toward dangerous territory—and the consequences can be devastating.
The Two Ditches
Paul's letter to the Galatians addresses a church that started well but began to veer off course. These believers had embraced the gospel—salvation by faith alone, through grace alone, in Christ alone. Their lives had been transformed. They were set free. But then something happened. False teachers infiltrated their community, suggesting that faith in Jesus wasn't quite enough. They needed Jesus plus something else—in this case, adherence to Jewish law and customs.
This presents us with a crucial truth: the Christian life is lived on a narrow road with ditches on both sides. On one side lies the ditch of religion—the trap of legalism, performance-based spirituality, and rule-keeping. On the other side sits the ditch of rebellion—the pull toward worldly pleasures, uncontrolled appetites, and the lie that we can find life apart from Christ.
Both ditches are forms of slavery. Both rob us of the freedom Christ died to give us.
The Story of Two Sons
Paul uses an Old Testament story to illustrate this tension. Abraham, the father of the Jewish nation, received a promise from God: he would have a son who would lead to a great nation, and through that nation, all peoples would be blessed. But Abraham and his wife Sarah grew impatient. Rather than waiting for God's promise, they took matters into their own hands.
Sarah suggested that Abraham sleep with her servant Hagar to produce an heir. It seemed like a practical solution, but it was a catastrophic decision—one whose consequences we're still witnessing today in Middle Eastern conflicts.
Eventually, Sarah did conceive miraculously and gave birth to Isaac, the child of promise. But by then, there were two sons: Ishmael, born through human effort and the works of the flesh, and Isaac, born through divine promise and the work of the Spirit.
Paul draws a parallel: believers are children of the promise, like Isaac. We're born of the Spirit, not of the flesh. We receive what God has promised through faith, not through our own striving. The Judaizers, trying to add human requirements to the gospel, were operating like descendants of Ishmael—attempting to accomplish through fleshly effort what can only be received through spiritual promise.
The Heart of the Gospel
This brings us to the central verse of Galatians: "For freedom Christ has set you free."
Read that again. Jesus didn't die and resurrect to put you back in bondage—whether to religious rules or worldly appetites. He came to set you free. This is the entire purpose of His mission.
So what does freedom require of us? Two things:
Stand firm. Don't drift from the gospel. Don't move to the right or the left. Hold fast to the finished work of Christ and the ongoing work of the Holy Spirit in your life.
Don't submit again to a yoke of slavery. That word "again" is crucial. Before Christ, many of us lived in slavery—whether to sin, idolatry, addiction, or legalistic religion. Christ freed us from those yokes. The tragedy is when we exchange one form of slavery for another.
The Danger of "Jesus Plus"
Paul makes a startling statement: if you're trying to be justified by the law, you're severed from Christ and have fallen away from grace. This doesn't mean you lose your salvation—adoption into God's family is permanent. Rather, it means you're not operating in grace anymore. You've shifted from trusting Christ's work to trusting your own.
The gospel is an all-or-nothing proposition. It's either all Christ's work or all our work. There's no middle ground. When we add anything to Jesus—whether religious performance, moral achievement, or cultural identity—we nullify grace.
Here's the liberating truth: if you're in Christ, when God looks at you, He doesn't see your best days or your worst days. He sees the perfect righteousness of Jesus. That should make you exhale with relief.
But here's the equally important truth: the same righteousness that has been credited to your account (justification) is now being worked out in your daily life (sanctification). Through the Spirit, by faith, you're learning to live in alignment with who you already are in Christ.
Who or What Is Hindering You?
Paul asks the Galatian believers a penetrating question: "You were running well. Who hindered you from obeying the truth?"
They had started strong. Something—or someone—got them off track.
The same question applies to us. What's hindering you? Which ditch are you drifting toward?
For some, it's the ditch of religion. You've forgotten what Christ has done. You measure your spirituality by external rules—things you do or don't do. You compare yourself to others. When you fail, you're crushed by shame, convinced God couldn't possibly love you after what you've done. You're trying to earn what's already been freely given.
For others, it's the ditch of rebellion. Old appetites keep calling your name. There are strongholds in your life—areas where you know you've been set free, yet you keep going back. Bitterness. Lust. Anger. Materialism. You know these things can't satisfy, but you keep believing the lie that they might.
Here's what you need to know: any persuasion that pulls you toward either ditch is not from the Lord. The Holy Spirit doesn't navigate you toward shame-based religion or toward sin-soaked rebellion. He guides you toward surrender to Jesus and keeps you on the path of freedom.
The Offense of the Cross
One reason we drift is that we want to remove the offense of the gospel. The cross is inherently offensive to a godless culture. It declares that Christ alone is the way to God—not one option among many, but the exclusive path. It calls sin what it is and demands repentance. In a world that celebrates moral relativism, this message doesn't win popularity contests.
But we cannot—we must not—water down the gospel to make it more palatable. The most loving thing we can do is tell people the truth: Jesus is the only hope for the world.
Running Your Race
Imagine a relay team that's winning the race. As the runner rounds the corner to pass the baton, he looks up and sees another team with similar colors. Instead of focusing on his own lane, he drifts toward what looks familiar and hands the baton to the wrong person. Disqualified. All because of a drift.
Are you running well? Or have you drifted out of your lane?
The Christian life is a race, and we're called to stay in our lane—the lane of gospel freedom. Not the lane of religious performance. Not the lane of worldly rebellion. The lane where we trust Christ's finished work and walk in step with the Spirit.
For freedom Christ has set you free. Stand firm. Don't drift. Experience the freedom that's already yours.
The Two Ditches
Paul's letter to the Galatians addresses a church that started well but began to veer off course. These believers had embraced the gospel—salvation by faith alone, through grace alone, in Christ alone. Their lives had been transformed. They were set free. But then something happened. False teachers infiltrated their community, suggesting that faith in Jesus wasn't quite enough. They needed Jesus plus something else—in this case, adherence to Jewish law and customs.
This presents us with a crucial truth: the Christian life is lived on a narrow road with ditches on both sides. On one side lies the ditch of religion—the trap of legalism, performance-based spirituality, and rule-keeping. On the other side sits the ditch of rebellion—the pull toward worldly pleasures, uncontrolled appetites, and the lie that we can find life apart from Christ.
Both ditches are forms of slavery. Both rob us of the freedom Christ died to give us.
The Story of Two Sons
Paul uses an Old Testament story to illustrate this tension. Abraham, the father of the Jewish nation, received a promise from God: he would have a son who would lead to a great nation, and through that nation, all peoples would be blessed. But Abraham and his wife Sarah grew impatient. Rather than waiting for God's promise, they took matters into their own hands.
Sarah suggested that Abraham sleep with her servant Hagar to produce an heir. It seemed like a practical solution, but it was a catastrophic decision—one whose consequences we're still witnessing today in Middle Eastern conflicts.
Eventually, Sarah did conceive miraculously and gave birth to Isaac, the child of promise. But by then, there were two sons: Ishmael, born through human effort and the works of the flesh, and Isaac, born through divine promise and the work of the Spirit.
Paul draws a parallel: believers are children of the promise, like Isaac. We're born of the Spirit, not of the flesh. We receive what God has promised through faith, not through our own striving. The Judaizers, trying to add human requirements to the gospel, were operating like descendants of Ishmael—attempting to accomplish through fleshly effort what can only be received through spiritual promise.
The Heart of the Gospel
This brings us to the central verse of Galatians: "For freedom Christ has set you free."
Read that again. Jesus didn't die and resurrect to put you back in bondage—whether to religious rules or worldly appetites. He came to set you free. This is the entire purpose of His mission.
So what does freedom require of us? Two things:
Stand firm. Don't drift from the gospel. Don't move to the right or the left. Hold fast to the finished work of Christ and the ongoing work of the Holy Spirit in your life.
Don't submit again to a yoke of slavery. That word "again" is crucial. Before Christ, many of us lived in slavery—whether to sin, idolatry, addiction, or legalistic religion. Christ freed us from those yokes. The tragedy is when we exchange one form of slavery for another.
The Danger of "Jesus Plus"
Paul makes a startling statement: if you're trying to be justified by the law, you're severed from Christ and have fallen away from grace. This doesn't mean you lose your salvation—adoption into God's family is permanent. Rather, it means you're not operating in grace anymore. You've shifted from trusting Christ's work to trusting your own.
The gospel is an all-or-nothing proposition. It's either all Christ's work or all our work. There's no middle ground. When we add anything to Jesus—whether religious performance, moral achievement, or cultural identity—we nullify grace.
Here's the liberating truth: if you're in Christ, when God looks at you, He doesn't see your best days or your worst days. He sees the perfect righteousness of Jesus. That should make you exhale with relief.
But here's the equally important truth: the same righteousness that has been credited to your account (justification) is now being worked out in your daily life (sanctification). Through the Spirit, by faith, you're learning to live in alignment with who you already are in Christ.
Who or What Is Hindering You?
Paul asks the Galatian believers a penetrating question: "You were running well. Who hindered you from obeying the truth?"
They had started strong. Something—or someone—got them off track.
The same question applies to us. What's hindering you? Which ditch are you drifting toward?
For some, it's the ditch of religion. You've forgotten what Christ has done. You measure your spirituality by external rules—things you do or don't do. You compare yourself to others. When you fail, you're crushed by shame, convinced God couldn't possibly love you after what you've done. You're trying to earn what's already been freely given.
For others, it's the ditch of rebellion. Old appetites keep calling your name. There are strongholds in your life—areas where you know you've been set free, yet you keep going back. Bitterness. Lust. Anger. Materialism. You know these things can't satisfy, but you keep believing the lie that they might.
Here's what you need to know: any persuasion that pulls you toward either ditch is not from the Lord. The Holy Spirit doesn't navigate you toward shame-based religion or toward sin-soaked rebellion. He guides you toward surrender to Jesus and keeps you on the path of freedom.
The Offense of the Cross
One reason we drift is that we want to remove the offense of the gospel. The cross is inherently offensive to a godless culture. It declares that Christ alone is the way to God—not one option among many, but the exclusive path. It calls sin what it is and demands repentance. In a world that celebrates moral relativism, this message doesn't win popularity contests.
But we cannot—we must not—water down the gospel to make it more palatable. The most loving thing we can do is tell people the truth: Jesus is the only hope for the world.
Running Your Race
Imagine a relay team that's winning the race. As the runner rounds the corner to pass the baton, he looks up and sees another team with similar colors. Instead of focusing on his own lane, he drifts toward what looks familiar and hands the baton to the wrong person. Disqualified. All because of a drift.
Are you running well? Or have you drifted out of your lane?
The Christian life is a race, and we're called to stay in our lane—the lane of gospel freedom. Not the lane of religious performance. Not the lane of worldly rebellion. The lane where we trust Christ's finished work and walk in step with the Spirit.
For freedom Christ has set you free. Stand firm. Don't drift. Experience the freedom that's already yours.
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