Proper 8C
We are taught, in the gospel
according to Janis Joplin, that “Freedom is just another word, for nothing left
to lose.” A lesson, which is also
taught, admittedly with less pith, in the words of the Apostle Paul in his
letter to the Galatians. “For freedom,”
he says, “Christ has set us free… For
you were called to freedom, brothers
and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for
self-indulgence, but through love
become slaves to one another.”
Freedom is an interesting
concept, and one that will be very much in the public view this week as our
country celebrates Independence Day – a day when we celebrate freedom,
itself. Does freedom really mean we have
nothing left to lose? Does freedom call
us to be slaves to one another?
When I was a child, like most of
us probably, I idealized the idea of growing up to mean that I could be free do
whatever I wanted. And there’s a degree
to which that’s true. If I want to buy
sugary cereals instead of Grape Nuts or Wheat Chex, I’m perfectly within my
rights to do so. And I’ll admit that I
avail myself of that freedom more often than not. If I want to stay up late, no one is going to
tell me I can’t. I am free to do so.
But, of course, a more mature
understanding of freedom recognizes that it’s really all a bit more complicated
than just that.
One of the more impactful images
that I retained from seminary came to me in a class that was required of all
students about the nature of and interplay between privilege and oppression,
and the role that our Christian faith plays in those systems. I’m sure the
class had a more impressive sounding name, but for those of us who were
students, it was known simply as “Oppression 101”. Our wise professor, now of sainted memory,
near the beginning of the course, talked about the relationship between
oppressed people and those who participate in systems of oppression. We tend to imagine these things from the
perspective of the ones who are oppressed: African Americans denied access to
lunch counters or schools; gay and lesbian people denied access to the
protections of marriage; refugee children imprisoned and separated from their
parents.
While the experiences and realities
of oppressed people are hugely important, and while they help us to summon
dormant compassion, our professor encouraged us to see oppression from a
different angle. If you imagine
oppression, he taught, as a powerful person or group standing on the neck of a
weak person or group – recognize that they’re both trapped. They’re both denied freedom. It may be true – and often is – that only one
person in this equation has the freedom to make the change necessary to end the
oppression, but so long as the situation continues, both people are held in
place. Both people suffer the indignity
of a lack of freedom. The stepped-upon,
for obvious reasons; but the one holding the other is also stuck. So long as he is wedded to holding his power
– so long as that power is more important than anything or anyone else, he,
too, is stuck.
I think that’s the kind of
freedom that the Apostle Paul, and the latter prophet Janis were talking
about. True freedom is not just having
the weight removed from your own neck, but freeing yourself to remove the
weight from someone else, too. It’s
giving yourself over to freedom from all that held you back before – freedom to
grow into your best self, without limitations.
Freedom to let go of whatever had been holding you back, even those
things or feelings most deeply ingrained in us.
As Jesus talked about what it
meant to follow him, his answers often seemed paradoxical. People responded to the freedom he professed
in this new way of knowing and serving God by saying that they wanted a part of
it, too – that they wanted to follow him to realize the fruits of all he
claimed. But he warned them that freedom
might look differently than they’d imagined.
It’s not just about sugary cereals and staying up as late as you want. Freedom is also about responsibility.
Each Sunday, as you come into
church, you can sit there and wait for a sense of God’s presence to come to
you. It might even happen from time to
time. You can go through the motions and
come forward for a piece of bread and sip of wine, and then go home and reset
your life to “normal” for another week.
But that’s not the freedom that
Christ is calling you to. That’s not the
freedom that is available to you. It’s
not freedom at all, but consumption. The
real freedom in worship is to engage with all that we’ve been given – to engage
with the words, and prayers, (and songs), and people. To incorporate them into our lives and our
thinking, to make them come alive, as they’re longing to do. The real freedom of this faith is not about
taking what’s yours as long as you want it, but about choosing to give yourself
over to this faith. Choosing to stop
giving yourself over to other things that stand in the way, and instead, to
take the tools of the faith and freeing yourself to let them work in you and
use you. Choosing to let the tools of
the faith stay with you after you leave on Sunday morning, and choosing to let them
inform and guide your life every day.
No one is standing over you
demanding that of you. And I’m completely
convinced that if your only interaction with faith in Jesus Christ is about
coming to church on Sunday and getting your little piece of the pie, then God
will still love you more than you can imagine.
You don’t have that to lose.
The freedom that Christ has in
store for you is never about loss – one way or another. It’s only about gaining your best self. It’s only ever about love. Amen.
Comments