Galatians 4
Galatians 4 — Commentary and Meaning
The short answer
At the heart of Galatians 4 sits one of Paul's most tender images: adoption. He writes that God sent his Son "to redeem those who were under the law" so that we might receive "the adoption as children" (Galatians 4:5). And the proof of that adoption is not a certificate or a feeling of moral improvement. It is a cry. God sends "the Spirit of his Son" into our hearts, crying, "Abba, Father!" (Galatians 4:6).
That little Aramaic word, Abba, is doing a lot of work. It is the word Jesus himself used when he prayed to God (Mark 14:36). When Paul says the Spirit prompts that same cry in us, he is saying something startling: the prayer life of Jesus has been planted inside ordinary believers. We do not address God from a distance, hoping to be noticed. We speak to him the way the Son does—as Father.
The passage also looks backward. Paul frames the whole movement as a kind of new Exodus: people who were once enslaved are redeemed and brought into the family, stepping into the vocation Israel carried in the Old Testament as God's children. That is why Paul can say, "you are no longer a bondservant, but a son" (Galatians 4:7)—and if a son, then an heir.
Notice what this means for how change happens. Adoption is not a demand that we imitate Jesus by sheer effort. It is a gift that works from the inside out. The Spirit dwelling in us reshapes how we pray and, over time, who we are. The cry of "Abba" is both the first sign of the new identity and the ongoing engine of it: we become like the Son because the Spirit of the Son now lives in us.
What scholars say
Wright answers why the 'Abba' cry in Galatians 4:5–6 matters so much: it is the Aramaic word Jesus himself used in prayer, it echoes the Exodus story, and it marks the Spirit joining with our own spirit in the identity of adoption. McGrath then draws the devotional conclusion—we are not merely ordered to become like Jesus, but enabled to, as the Spirit of the Son shapes our prayer and our wills.
“In particular, the Christian discovers a new identity, picking up Israel’s vocation in the Old Testament: adoption. When the holy spirit comes to dwell in a person’s heart, the first sign is that they recognize God as father; this, I think, is part of what Paul meant in 5.5 when he spoke of a love for God being poured out in our hearts by the holy spirit. The cry ‘Abba, father’ uses the old Aramaic word which Jesus himself had used for God (Mark 14.36). Paul refers to the same cry in Galatians 4.5–6, where again there are powerful echoes of the Exodus story. This time he interprets what is going on in terms of the coming together of the holy spirit with our own spirit.”
“As Lewis rightly saw, we are not merely told to become more like Jesus of Nazareth, as if the Christian faith were a set of orders barked at us by some distant and uncaring general; we are enabled to become so, by a God who enriches and graces our lives, redirects our wills and inspires us to do good. ‘God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” ’ (Galatians 4.6), thus enabling us to pray and shaping us in the likeness of Jesus.”
What it means for you
Many of us pray as if we were applying for a position we might not get—careful, formal, unsure of our standing. Galatians 4 says the position is already ours. You come to God as a child comes to a parent, because the Spirit within you is already crying "Abba, Father."
That changes how growth works, too. Becoming more like Jesus is not a solitary self-improvement project. It is cooperation with a presence: the Spirit enabling what mere effort could never produce. When prayer feels dry, or obedience feels heavy, the invitation is not to try harder at a distance but to lean into the family relationship that is already established.
Galatians 4 in context
Galatians 4 continues Paul's argument against teachers who insisted Gentile believers must keep the Jewish law to belong to God's people. In chapter 3, Paul argued that God's promise to Abraham came by faith, before the law. Chapter 4 presses the point with a family metaphor: an heir who is still a minor lives like a slave, but when the appointed time comes, full sonship arrives. Verses 4–7 are the hinge—God sends the Son, then the Spirit of the Son, making believers children and heirs. The rest of the chapter contrasts slavery and freedom through the story of Hagar and Sarah.