Barclay's Flesh and Spirit

Today, I would like to give a brief review of biblical scholar William Barclay's small book Flesh and Spirit: An Examination of Galatians 5:19-23 (Abingdon Press, 1962) (127 pp.). Barclay was a professor of divinity and biblical criticism at the University of Glasgow and a clergyman in the Church of Scotland (Presbyterian). Many of you have probably seen his many other books at your local bookstore.

The text that he examines is the famous passage where Paul contrasts the "works of the flesh" with the "fruit of the Spirit":

Now the works of the flesh are plain: immorality, impurity, licentiousness, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, anger, selfishness, dissension, party spirit, envy, drunkennness, carousing, and the like. . . . But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such there is no law.

Gal. 5:19, 22 (RSV).

Prof. Barclay begins the book by making clear that "flesh" is not limited to body as such, but rather refers, in this particular context, to life apart from Jesus Christ and his Spirit. Barclay then proceeds to take the Greek word behind each of the works of the flesh and the fruits of the Spirit listed by St. Paul. Barclay looks at how the word was used in pagan Greek literature, how it was used in the Greek translation of the Old Testament used by St. Paul (the Septuagint or "LXX"), and how the word is used in the New Testament as a whole. The professor writes with the clarity that is the British style at its best--no dense Germanic theological writing here.

Barclay presents anyone who takes the New Testament seriously an example of how to dig deeper for the meaning that the biblical writer is communicating. I certainly cannot summarize his entire research on each of Paul's terms, but I can pick two of the terms that struck me as significant in our current circumstances in the United States.

Out of the listed "works of the flesh," I would like to focus on one: "licentiousness" which translates in the RSV the Greek word aselgia. Barclay refers to another famous British scholar, Lightfoot, who viewed "the essence of aselgia" as the reaching of that "stage of sinning" where sin "makes no attempt whatever to hide or cloak its sin; it is sin lost to shame" (p. 31). Barclay goes on: "It [aselgia] has respect neither for the persons nor the rights of anyone else. It is violent, insolent, abusive, audacious. Any thought and any sympathy for the feelings of others has ceased to exist" (p. 32). Finally, he concludes that the "terrible thing about aselgia is that it is the act of a character which has lost that which ought to be its greatest defence--its self-respect, and its sense of shame" (p. 33).

Why did this particular "work of the flesh" strike home with me? Just think of last year's Superbowl with Janet Jackson. Just think of the numerous performances by that inappropriately named and aging strumpet "Madonna" that have poisoned the imaginations of countless people. And remember that these and others engage in their licentiousness with audacity, defiance, and in a celebratory and even manic mood.

The aselgia of our culture's entertainers reflects the aselgia permeating the mentalities of many ordinary people. "Shacking up" is now an open and typical arrangement welcome without comment at family gatherings, as if the couple were married. Many openly affirm hedonism as their creed and rationalize its bold expression with aplomb. There is a manic--Christians would say Satanic-- force impelling many to breach every barrier, convention, and taboo as a sign of progress. That is licentiousness.

But now to better ground. The fruit of the Spirit that seems, at least to me, the very opposite of this manic licentiousness is self-control or egkrateia. Barclay writes that "when the word [egkrateia] enters the moral and the ethical sphere it describes that strength of soul by which a man takes a hold of himself, takes a grip of himself, is in full control and possession of himself, so that he can restrain himself from every evil desire" (p. 123). Remember egkrateia is not a work that we produce--the works we produce on our own apart from the Spirit are the works of the flesh. Rather, egkrateia is a fruit received through the Spirit's power. Tempation is still there, for even the "man who is egkrates has strong desires which seek to lure and force him from the way of reason, but he has them under control" (p. 127). Barclay gives an astounding assessment about self-control: "Egkrateia is nothing other than chastity, and chastity was the one completely new virtue which the Christian ethic brought into this world" (p. 127; emphasis added). Now, you know why so many passionately hate the very mention of Christianity, for Christianity defies the manic forces that drive so many in our society.

But self-control is not to be taken in isolation. Self-control is but one fruit of the Spirit and makes possible the flowering of the other fruits of the Spirit by keeping us sane and in touch with reality. Read Barclay's small book to see the complete picture of the kind of life that self-control makes possible in the Spirit.