By: Leo Percer, Ph.D. | January 25, 2026
When you hear the word indulgence, what comes to mind? For many of us, indulgence conjures up images of small pleasures enjoyed in moments of freedom: a strong cup of coffee, rich dark chocolate, meaningful conversation, or time lost in a good book. These are not inherently bad things. In fact, indulgence usually presupposes freedom—freedom of time, freedom of choice, freedom from constraint. Yet Scripture presses us to ask a deeper question: What kind of indulgence does our freedom produce?
This question sits at the heart of Paul’s argument in Galatians 5:13–16. Writing to a mixed audience of Gentile and Jewish believers in Galatia, Paul addresses a fundamental apologetic concern: What does Christian freedom look like in practice? Is the gospel merely liberation from rules, or does it free us for something more profound?
Called to Freedom
Paul begins with a striking claim: “You were called to freedom, brothers and sisters” (Gal. 5:13). The language of calling (kaleō) and freedom (eleutheria) signals vocation.[1] Freedom is not accidental; it is a calling placed upon every Christian life. Earlier in Galatians, Paul reminds his readers that Christ “freed us for freedom” (5:1). Liberation is both the gift and the goal of salvation. As Jesus himself declares, “If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:36).
From an apologetic perspective, this matters greatly. Christianity is often caricatured as a system of moral constraints that suffocate human flourishing. Paul counters this directly: Christian faith does not imprison the self, rather it liberates it. Nonetheless, liberty is never morally neutral. Freedom often moves toward some form of indulgence—some pattern of desire put into action.
Paul insists that freedom opens two divergent paths. One leads to indulgence of the flesh, while the other to indulgence of the Spirit. Both are made possible by freedom, but only one fulfills freedom’s purpose.
Fleshly Indulgence: Freedom Misused
Paul warns that freedom can become an “opportunity for the flesh” (Gal. 5:13a). The term he uses evokes a military image—a base of operations or beachhead. Freedom, when misdirected, becomes the staging ground for destructive habits and attitudes. The “flesh” here is not merely bodily desire, but the sinful orientation of the self that resists God (Rom. 7:18–23; 8:6–8).[2] At its core, the flesh is profoundly selfish.
To indulge the flesh is, paradoxically, to return to slavery. Paul describes this as submitting again to a “yoke of slavery” (Gal. 5:1). The irony is sharp—the person who mistakes license for liberty ends up bound. Confusing carnal freedom with Christian liberty is a deeper delusion than mistaking chains for jewelry.[3]
Paul also exposes the social consequences of fleshly indulgence. “If you bite and devour one another,” he warns, “watch out that you are not consumed by one another” (Gal. 5:15). The imagery is animalistic and brutal. Fleshly living often manifests not in obvious scandal, but in subtle relational violence—gossip, resentment, and suspicion. This becomes clear when a person attempts to build himself up by tearing others down.
Todd Wilson helpfully identifies common ways the flesh establishes a foothold: harboring grudges, refusing to overlook minor offenses, assuming the worst about others, speaking negatively in private, indulging corrosive conversations, and delaying the resolution of personal grievances.[4] Each of these behaviors appears respectable, even justified, yet together they form a pattern of self-protection and self-exaltation. Paul’s warning is sobering: such indulgence ultimately destroys the very community it claims to protect.
For apologetics, this is crucial. Critics of Christianity often point to hypocrisy, division, and lovelessness among believers. Paul concedes the charge—not as a failure of the gospel, but as a misuse of freedom. The problem is not Christianity taken seriously, but Christianity distorted into self-serving license.
Spiritual Indulgence: Freedom Fulfilled
Paul offers a radical alternative: “Through love, serve one another” (Gal. 5:13b). Here freedom finds its true expression. As C. K. Barrett famously noted, “The opposite of flesh is love”—a love that turns outward, expending itself for the good of the neighbor.[5]
This is what Paul means by “walking in the Spirit” (Gal. 5:16). To walk in the Spirit is to allow God’s Spirit to guide daily behavior, shaping desires and actions in accordance with God’s character. The promise is striking—those who walk in the Spirit will not “carry out” or complete the desires of the flesh. Spiritual indulgence displaces fleshly indulgence by reorienting desire itself.
Paul’s language here is intentionally paradoxical. Christians are free—and therefore called to slavery. “Serve” (douleuō) literally means to be a slave.[6] In other words, Christians are not masters with many servants, but each believer becomes the servant of many. This is not coercion but love-driven service.
Timothy George rightly observes that freedom and slavery are not opposites in Paul’s theology but mutually defining realities.[7] We must ask: Free for what? Slave to whom? Christian freedom is realized precisely in loving service. Luther’s famous summary remains apt: “A Christian is free and independent in every respect… and a dutiful servant in every respect, owing a duty to everyone.”[8]
Paul insists that this love fulfills the law (Gal. 5:14; Rom. 13:8–10). Not because love replaces devotion to God, but because love proves it. Self-giving service becomes the apologetic demonstration that the gospel truly transforms lives.
Living the Apologetic of Love
Paul leaves us with a choice. Freedom is ours; indulgence is inevitable. The only question is which desires we will complete. Will we indulge the flesh, or will we walk by the Spirit?
For those committed to Christian apologetics, this passage offers a powerful challenge. Arguments may defend the faith intellectually, but love defends it existentially. The most compelling case for Christianity is a community that refuses fleshly indulgence and instead indulges the Spirit through humble, sacrificial love. That may mean resisting the urge to “set someone straight” and instead praying intentionally for them. It may mean seeking a concrete way to serve a neighbor without recognition or return. Such acts are not incidental to the gospel; they are its visible fruit.
In the end, the question remains: What’s your indulgence? Paul invites us to discover that the deepest satisfaction of our freedom is not found in self-expression, but in Spirit-shaped love that reflects the freedom of Christ himself.
About the Author
Leo Percer grew up in Millington, Tennessee, northeast of Memphis, when he first received his call to teaching ministry. He has been involved in numerous ministerial activities, including serving as an elder at Forest Community Church in Forest, Virginia. Dr. Leo Percer graduated with a Ph.D. from Baylor University, an M.A. from Western Kentucky University, an M.Div. from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, and a B.A. from Union University.
After graduating with his Ph.D., Dr. Percer has taught at Baylor University, McLennan Community College, and Liberty University, where he served as the Director of the Ph.D. in Theology and Apologetics program for years. His area of expertise is in Second Temple Judaism, the Epistles of Paul, and apocalyptic literature. Dr. Percer is an active member of the Evangelical Theological Society, the Society of Biblical Literature, and is on the board of directors at Ratio Christi. Dr. Percer resides in Lynchburg, VA, with his wonderful wife, Lisa, and two children. He loves reading, collecting comic books, and is a coffee connoisseur.
Notes
[1] William Arndt, Frederick W. Danker, et al., A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature, (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000), 316, 502.
[2] Timothy George, Galatians, vol. 30, The New American Commentary (Nashville: Broadman & Holman Publishers, 1994), 377.
[3] Timothy George, Galatians, vol. 30, The New American Commentary (Nashville: Broadman & Holman Publishers, 1994), 377.
[4] Todd Wilson, Galatians: Gospel-Rooted Living, Preaching the Word (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2013), 189.
[5] C. K. Barrett, Freedom and Obligation: A Study of the Epistle to the Galatians, (Westminster John Knox Press, 1985), 72–73.
[6] William Arndt, Frederick W. Danker, et al., A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature, (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000), 259.
[7] Timothy George, Galatians, vol. 30, The New American Commentary (Nashville: Broadman & Holman Publishers, 1994), 378.
[8] As cited by Timothy George, Galatians, vol. 30, The New American Commentary (Nashville: Broadman & Holman Publishers, 1994), 378.
I think the fleshly indulgence problem should be blamed solely upon God. God has apparently approved of his own brand of guaranteed successful coercive telepathy (Ezra 1:1, Isaiah 13:15-17). Since he approves of it, whether it violates human freewill is moot. God's approval of the method is all that matters.
So God has available to him, a method that he approves of, which gives him perfect certainty that a sinner will do exactly what God wants him to do. God's complaining about sinners not doing what he wants, is then analogous to the parent who complains about their children reacting to starvation by being loud and boisterous, when the parent's kitchen was filled with food, and all the parent had to do was feed the kids.
And if the parent said "the secret things belong to the parent, you kids are not allowed to invoke the secret counsels of the parent as an excuse, you have misbehaved when we told you to be good, and our revealed will is sufficient to establish your culpability", we'd know that the parent was less like an honest realist, and more like a trifling lawyer.