Don’t Rebuild What Jesus Tore Down

In Galatians, Paul confronts the temptation to add rules and identity markers to faith. This message explores how we often rebuild religious walls Jesus has already torn down.

It seems like human nature to try and fill up whatever space we're given. We add, we cram, we complicate. And we often do the same thing with our faith. We’ve been given a simple and beautiful gift in Jesus, freedom in Christ, but we keep adding to it.

We stack on extra rules. We lean on external identity markers. We grow afraid that grace alone might not be enough, so we tack on more. We start to rely on things that were never meant to carry the weight of our righteousness.

Today we’re in the book of Galatians, where Paul addresses this very issue. The believers there were doing what we still often do: Building walls Jesus already tore down.

The region of Galatia in Asia Minor was diverse, with a significant Jewish population. Under Roman rule, Jews had what was called the "Jewish exception." While everyone else was required to worship Caesar as a god, Jews were exempt from this. They were allowed to worship Yahweh alone.

For new Gentile believers, this arrangement could be tempting. Adopting Jewish customs might offer safety from pressure and persecution. Beyond that, Judaism came with clear boundaries, customs, and identity markers—a ready-made checklist for belonging.

Seeing Jewish Christians continuing in these traditions, some Gentile believers began to wonder: Am I missing something? Am I less “Christian” because I’m not doing all of that?

Into this confusion and pressure, Paul writes.

In Galatians 2, Paul recalls meeting with church leaders Peter, James, and John in Jerusalem—bringing along Titus, a Gentile believer from Crete. No one required Titus to become Jewish. No circumcision. No Sabbath rules. No dietary restrictions. All they asked was that he remember the poor.

So Paul poses the question to the Galatians: If the apostles didn’t require this of Titus, why are you requiring it of yourselves?

Adding rules doesn’t just confuse individuals—it reshapes the whole community into something less free.

Paul then tells another story. Peter had been preaching the good news of Jesus across the world. In Antioch, he was ate with Gentiles, fully embracing the freedom that the gospel brings. Jews and Gentiles dining together would have been shocking at the time. It broke every cultural and religious boundary.

But then, some Jewish missionaries from Jerusalem showed up. Peter got nervous. He started pulling back from the Gentiles, no longer eating with them. That simple act sent a powerful message: Full belonging requires becoming like us.

Paul called Peter out. He said it wasn’t just awkward or impolite – it went against the very freedom that Jesus brought. Peter was rebuilding the old system of rules and barriers that Jesus had already torn down.

And Paul tells the Galatians, You’re doing the same thing.

It’s tempting to believe grace is not enough. We think if we just look the part, if we adopt the right external markers, we’ll belong. These markers become comforting for insiders, knowing who’s in or out. But just having the right religious language, custom, or appearance doesn’t make us more righteous.

And worse, when we rely on those identity markers, they can act like walls. They send a message: You don’t fully belong until you become like us. That’s how we end up rebuilding what Jesus has already broken down. That’s how communities unintentionally slip back into performance-based belonging—how grace becomes buried under layers of expectation.

There’s this card game called King Mao. The whole point is to get rid of your cards, but you’re not allowed to talk about the rules. And every time you break an unknown rule, you get more cards.

It’s a game where the insiders keep winning, and the newcomers don’t even know how to play. It’s frustrating and unfair.

Unfortunately, churches can sometimes feel like that. We create systems and unspoken expectations – like a game where the rules are never explained, but the insiders seem to know them all. Newcomers break invisible rules and feel the sting of exclusion. We don’t always mean to but the message gets through: You have to become like us to be part of this.

This is not the way of Jesus.

It’s uncomfortable to be around people who are different from us. Different values. Different backgrounds. Different ways of doing life. But since Jesus invites everyone to turn toward him, then we have to examine the ways we resist that.

Jesus constantly reached out to outsiders. He didn’t build walls. He tore them down. Jesus made a habit of crossing boundaries—welcoming those others ignored, dining with those deemed “unclean,” extending the kingdom’s invitation to the excluded.

The gospel is not about sorting people into “in” or “out” based on performance, appearance, or background. The good news of Jesus is this: Everyone is invited.

The good news is for everyone. And those who follow Jesus must be willing to name—and dismantle—whatever gets in the way of that welcome.

There is no need to add to what Jesus has already accomplished. Grace does not need our embellishment. We don’t need to dress it up or build it out. Grace is enough.

When we allow rules, customs, or cultural preferences become prerequisites for belonging, we rebuild walls Jesus died to destroy. And when we do that, we’re not only hurting ourselves, we’re hurting our communities.

Let’s resist the urge to complicate grace. Instead, let’s live in the freedom of the gospel, where the only identity that matters is being found in Christ.