The Uncomfortable Truth: Understanding the Deeds of the Flesh

Sometimes it's uncomfortable to read certain passages of Scripture. We'd rather skip past them, pretend they don't exist, or assume they're only relevant to "those people out there." But the Bible doesn't give us that luxury. It confronts us with the raw reality of human nature—not to condemn us, but to point us toward the transformative power of grace.
The Obvious Nature of Sin
The Apostle Paul uses a striking word when describing the works of the flesh in Galatians 5:19-21. He says they are "evident"—a translation of the Greek word phaneras, which literally means "shining." Think about that for a moment. Sin isn't hidden in some dark corner where only God can see it. It's blazing like a spotlight, obvious to everyone.
Humanity's wickedness is on full display throughout history. As one person paraphrasing G.K. Chesterton noted, the doctrine of original sin is "the only philosophy empirically validated by 3,500 years of human history." We see it everywhere—in broken relationships, violent conflicts, systemic injustices, and personal failures. Yet despite its obviousness, we've become experts at dismissing it.
"Everyone's doing it."
"This is just the way people are."
"When in Rome, do as the Romans."
These phrases reveal something troubling: our ability to normalize evil. The very dismissal of sin is itself diagnostic of our moral corruption. We've trained ourselves to look away from what should horrify us.
The Catalog of Corruption
Paul doesn't leave his readers guessing about what these deeds of the flesh look like. He provides a detailed list, beginning with sexual immorality—the Greek word porneia, from which we get "pornography." This comprehensive term encompasses adultery, fornication, homosexual acts, bestiality, incest, and all forms of sexual sin outside God's design of covenant marriage between one man and one woman.
Archaeological evidence from ancient Roman cities like Pompeii reveals that sexual perversion is nothing new. The frescoes painted on brothel walls demonstrate that pornography has existed for millennia. Humanity hasn't matured past these behaviors; if anything, we've found new technologies to pursue them with greater efficiency.
But Paul doesn't stop with sexual sin. He moves to idolatry—anything we hold more precious than God. In our modern context, idols aren't always carved statues. They're careers, relationships, comfort, security, entertainment, or even good things like family that we've elevated to ultimate status.
What do you value most? What consumes your thoughts, your time, your resources? The honest answer to these questions reveals your functional god.
The Church Isn't Immune
Here's where the message becomes particularly uncomfortable: Paul wrote this list to churches, not to the pagan world outside. He addresses believers struggling with enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, and divisions.
How many churches have split over petty disagreements? How many Christian communities are marked by cliques, territorial thinking, and the toxic "us versus them" mentality? These behaviors don't appear in a vacuum. They emerge from corrupted belief systems lurking beneath the surface.
When a church experiences ongoing conflict, it's ultimately a gospel issue. People may hear the good news preached every Sunday and mentally agree with it, but agreement isn't the same as belief. True belief in the gospel—that Christ descended from perfection to cover our imperfections, bearing our sins and offering us His righteousness—transforms how we treat one another.
If we genuinely believe that Jesus forgave our massive debt of sin, how can we harbor bitterness toward a brother or sister? If we truly grasp that we've been shown infinite mercy, how can we withhold forgiveness from others?
The Modern Idol of Medicine
Paul's list includes "sorcery," translated from the Greek pharmakeia—the root of our word "pharmaceutical." While this primarily referred to pagan practices involving drugs and magic arts in idol worship, the term's semantic range includes the administering of drugs.
This isn't an anti-medicine or anti-doctor message. After all, Luke the beloved physician wrote two books of Scripture. However, it raises an important question: How do we approach healing and health?
When illness strikes, what's our first response? Do we immediately reach for medication, or do we first pray and ask God what He might be teaching us? Do we treat modern medicine as a gift to be used wisely, or as a replacement for trust in God?
The issue isn't whether we use doctors or medication—it's whether Christ remains first in our decision-making. Our bodies are living sacrifices offered to God. What we do with them and put in them expresses our true religion, whether we're Christians or atheists.
Some believers have refused certain medications after prayerful consideration, trusting God's leading. Others have accepted medical intervention with gratitude. The key is bringing these decisions before the Lord, seeking His wisdom rather than defaulting to what the culture prescribes.
The Warning We Cannot Ignore
Paul concludes his list with sobering words: "I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God."
This isn't a comprehensive checklist for determining salvation. It's a description of what marks an unbeliever's life—a pattern of pursuing these sins without repentance. The warning is designed to cultivate confession and repentance among God's people.
For those who discover they're walking in these patterns, today can be the day of change. Christ doesn't merely invite us to better behavior; He commands repentance and offers transformation from the inside out. His nail-scarred hands extend forgiveness that no written code could ever provide.
Choose Whom You Will Serve
The ancient challenge remains relevant: Choose this day whom you will serve. Will it be sin and self, or the Savior?
Christianity doesn't offer a stale, cold religion of rule-keeping. It offers relationship with the living God, in whom there are "pleasures forevermore" at His right hand (Psalm 16:11). The transformation He brings shifts not just our behaviors but our very desires, teaching us to find delight in what truly satisfies.
The uncomfortable truth about the deeds of the flesh isn't meant to leave us in despair. It's meant to drive us to the only One who can save us from ourselves—Jesus Christ, who bore our sins, conquered death, and offers us new life.
That's a truth worth embracing, no matter how uncomfortable the journey to get there.