Introduction: The Heart of the Matter
My dear brothers and sisters in the Lord, I greet you this morning in the matchless name of Jesus Christ.
If you were to take a single pen and a single piece of paper, and you were asked to summarize the entire Christian experience in one sentence, you would be hard-pressed to find a more profound, more comprehensive, and more revolutionary statement than the one we have before us today in Galatians chapter 2, verse 20.
In this one verse, the Apostle Paul, under the divine inspiration of the Holy Spirit, unpacks the very core of our salvation. He gives us the secret to the Christian life. It is not a life of trying harder, but a life of dying deeper. It is not a life of self-improvement, but a life of divine replacement. It is, in its essence, a Great Exchange.
So many of us, even as believers, are weary. We are tired of the struggle. We fight the same sins, we wrestle with the same doubts, and we carry the same burdens day after day. We try to be better husbands, better wives, better parents, better Christians. We make resolutions, we promise God we will do better this time, only to find ourselves failing again.
Why? Because we have misunderstood the fundamental principle of the Christian life. We are trying to live for God in our own strength. But Paul tells us this morning that the Christian life is not you living for God. It is God living through you. Let us break down this glorious truth together, as we look at this powerful verse.
I. The Foundational Fact: A Death Has Occurred
The very first clause of our text is shocking. It is violent. It is absolute. Paul declares, "I am crucified with Christ..."
Notice the grammar. He does not say, "I will be crucified," as if it is some future hope. He does not say, "I should be crucified," as if it is a moral obligation he is trying to meet. He states it as a past, completed, and settled fact: "I am crucified." The tense of the verb in the original language signifies a past action with continuing, present results.
When Jesus went to the cross 2,000 years ago, He did not go alone. By faith, every person who would ever believe in Him was, in a spiritual sense, on that cross with Him. When He died, we died.
What died?
The "Old Man" died. The person you were before Christ—enslaved to sin, bound by your passions, living for your own glory—that person was judged and executed on Calvary's cross. Romans 6:6 says, "Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin."
Your Debt to the Law died. The Law of God, holy and just and good, demands perfection. You and I could never meet its demands. It stood over us as our accuser, rightly condemning us. But Colossians 2:14 tells us that Christ took that "handwriting of ordinances that was against us... and took it out of the way, nailing it to his cross." Your legal debt was paid in full.
This is not a feeling; it is a fact. You may not feel crucified. You may feel very much alive in your old ways sometimes. But we do not live by our feelings; we live by the facts of God's Word. You must reckon it to be true. You must plant the flag of your faith on this truth: The old me, the one who was in rebellion against God, has been legally and spiritually put to death in the person of Jesus Christ. The case is closed. The sentence has been carried out.
II. The Present Reality: A New Life Has Begun
Now, if the verse ended there, it would be a gospel of death. But look at the glorious paradox that follows: "...nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me..."
Out of the ashes of death comes the miracle of resurrection life. "Nevertheless I live!" The crucifixion of the old self does not lead to annihilation; it leads to a glorious new animation. But who is the source of this new life? Paul makes it breathtakingly clear: "yet not I."
The life you now possess as a child of God is not your old life, patched up, cleaned up, and polished for God. It is not a life of reformation. It is a life of replacement. The ego, the self-driven will, the prideful "I" has been dethroned. And a new King has taken residence in your heart—the Lord Jesus Christ Himself.
Imagine a glove. A glove can be made of the finest leather, stitched with the greatest care, but on its own, lying on a table, it can do nothing. It cannot grip, it cannot wave, it cannot work. But when a living hand slips inside that glove, the glove suddenly comes to life. It moves with the power of the hand. It does the will of the hand. The glove is not the source of the life; it is merely the vessel.
You, my friend, are the glove. On your own, you can do nothing of eternal value. But the moment you were saved, the living hand of Jesus Christ, by His Holy Spirit, came to dwell within you. So now, when you show kindness, it is "not you, but Christ." When you resist temptation, it is "not you, but Christ." When you speak a word of truth and grace, it is "not you, but Christ living in you." He is the source. He is the power. He is your very life.
III. The Daily Practice: A Life Lived by Faith
This brings us to the practical application. How does this crucified, Christ-indwelt life actually work on a day when the traffic is heavy, the bills are due, and the children are screaming? Paul tells us precisely: "...and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me."
Notice two things here.
First, the sphere of this life: "The life which I now live in the flesh."
This is not some mystical, out-of-body experience reserved for a monastery. This is for right here, right now. It is for the marketplace, the kitchen, the office, the classroom. It is a life lived in a physical body, in a broken world, with all of its pressures and pains. God is not calling you to escape the world, but to live the life of Christ in the world.
Second, the secret to this life: "I live by the faith of the Son of God."
How do we do it? Not by trying, but by trusting. Faith is the hand that receives what grace provides. Every moment of every day, we are faced with a choice. Will I operate in my own strength, my own wisdom, my own resources? Or will I consciously depend on, trust in, and yield to the Christ who lives within me?
When you are tempted to anger, you say, "Lord Jesus, you are my patience. Live Your patience through me."
When you are faced with a task that is too great for you, you say, "Lord Jesus, you are my strength. Live Your strength through me."
When you are called to forgive someone who has deeply wounded you, you cry out, "Lord Jesus, you are my grace and forgiveness. Love this person through me."
This is the life of faith. It is a moment-by-moment dependence upon the Indwelling One.
And what fuels this faith? What keeps us trusting when everything around us tells us to give up? Paul gives us the ultimate motivation in the final, beautiful clause: "...who loved me, and gave himself for me."
My friends, the Gospel is not just a grand, cosmic plan. It is intensely personal. The Son of God did not die for a faceless humanity. He died for individuals. He died for you. He loves you. He gave Himself for you.
When you realize that the Creator of the universe loved you so personally, so passionately, that He would go to a cross for you, it changes everything. That love is the foundation upon which your faith rests. You can trust Him to live His life through you because He has already proven the depths of His love for you.
Conclusion: The Invitation to the Exchange
We stand today at a crossroads. We can continue to live a life of struggle, of self-effort, of frustration, trying to improve the "old man" that God has already condemned to death.
Or, we can embrace the Great Exchange.
We can, by faith, accept the foundational fact: I have been crucified with Christ. My old life is over.
We can, by faith, rejoice in the present reality: Nevertheless I live, yet not I, but Christ lives in me. He is my new identity.
And we can, by faith, step into the daily practice: Living this moment, in this body, by simple trust in the Son of God who loves me.
Perhaps there is someone here today who has never made this exchange. You have been trying to live your own life, and you know it is empty. The invitation today is to surrender. To bring your sinful, broken, weary self to the foot of the cross and exchange it for the perfect, powerful, resurrection life of Jesus Christ.
For those of us who are believers, the call is to remember. To stop trying and start trusting. To cease striving and start abiding. To get "self" out of the way and let the Lord Jesus have His rightful place on the throne of our lives.
The secret to the Christian life is not a what, but a Who. His name is Jesus. And He desires not just to be your Savior, but to be your very life. Let us stop living and let Him live through us.
