Memories infiltrate my mind when I least expect them. Recently, I was transported back to the wooden pews of the small, traditional Baptist church I attended with my family for a time. The walls seemed to echo with the rich harmonies of the Baptist hymnal—a familiar comfort. But I was always excited when we traded those thick hymnals for the slim, well-loved chorus booklets. Those collections promised melodies that were brighter, livelier, and, let’s face it, just more fun to sing… and I loved to sing!
I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: 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. (KJV)
Galatians 2:20
One chorus, in particular, lingers in my memory: Galatians 2:20 set to a sweet melody. Even now, the song lives rent-free in my mind, each word and note woven so tightly together that I can’t recite the Scripture without humming the tune. Isn’t it clever how setting Bible verses to music transforms memorization into play—almost like tricking your brain into learning without trying? The songwriter’s job gets a little easier, and suddenly the whole congregation finds themselves memorizing Scripture without even realizing it.
I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (NIV)
For years, that song replayed in the background of my mind. Yet strangely, after all that time, the true message of that passage sat quietly, waiting for me to finally hear it. And only recently did its meaning start to shine through…
Indeed, I have been crucified with Christ. My ego is no longer central. It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. The life you see me living is not “mine,” but it is lived by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I am not going to go back on that. (MSG)
New Life NOW
I have always understood that Christ died for me, for my sins, so that I can go to heaven when I die. I accepted Jesus as my Savior when I was very young, so that was never in question. The realization came much later when I finally began to ponder what it meant to have Jesus as the Savior of my soul AND Lord of my Life – right here, right now.
“I am crucified with Christ” – that means that I am on the cross with Him. My natural inclinations, my feelings, my hopes, dreams, and desires, are gone.
“Nevertheless, I live” – The word nevertheless (used in the KJV) indicates the statement that follows contrasts with or qualifies what has just been said. I am crucified with Christ… however, I am still living… how does that work?
“Yet not I, but Christ, liveth in me.” So, He exchanged His life for mine. I’m not really living any longer – Christ is living in and through me.
The life I have now, is not my own. It belongs to my Savior and my Lord who gave His life so that I may have new life.
Living It
It’s one thing to recognize these truths in my mind, but another to let them filter down into the rhythms of everyday life. I’m discovering more and more that following Jesus as Lord means surrendering not just the “big” things, but the small, daily decisions—my time, my responses, and even my moments of frustration or impatience.
The catalyst that brought Galatians 2:20 back to my mind so forcefully is Jeremy Camp’s song, “No Survivors.” It’s a powerful song—far removed from the Baptist hymnal or the little chorus book—but it confronts the truth head-on. What died on that cross with Christ? My ego, my pride, my tight hold on my own life. I need to open my hand, release my grip, and surrender it all.
No Survivors
I’m at war with my humanity
Trying to reclaim my sanity
Nothing in my veins but vanity
It’s the same old, same oldYou told me it’s Your battle, God, so I need You to fight
‘Cause if I’m gonna live then there’s some things that need to dieSomebody give my past my sympathies
Tell the old me I’m not missing me
He can call, but I’m not listening
To the same old, same oldMy ego, my pride
My grip on my life
Throw it all into the fire
And leave no survivors
SurvivorsYou’re pushing back the dark to get me closer to the light
Somebody tell my enemies there’s nowhere left to hide
You told me it’s Your battle, God, so I need You to fight
‘Cause if I’m gonna live, then there’s some things that need to dieJeremy Camp
Every choice I make is an opportunity to walk out this exchanged life. Whether it’s responding kindly when I’m wronged, giving generously, or simply choosing gratitude over complaint, it all comes back to this new reality: I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.
I won’t pretend it comes easily or naturally. There are days I need reminders—and mercifully, He is patient with me. But little by little, I’m learning to let go and lean in, trusting that the One who gave His life for me will continue to lead me in this new life, every step of the way.
