Have you ever been in the car with someone as they’re

having a conversation? You feel a little left out, and you

can’t help but try to fill in what’s being said on the other

side of the phone.

Well, this is the situation that we are in as we read

Paul’s letters in the New Testament. We’re listening

closely, trying to fill in the conversation and situation

from the other side, because what he’s saying to that

church long ago matters deeply to us today. He’s

talking about freedom. How are we to live in freedom?

This is a lesson that we never stop learning. There

are always new Pharaohs, new rulers, eager for our

obedience in exchange for meager portions of what

they or we think that we need. There’s always new

influencers, eager to fill the minds of others with

thoughts of themselves—their ideas, their opinions of

who we are or should be.

But the truth is that we are made for freedom. This truth

is deep in our bones, and over time, it begins to burn

with passion when our freedom is not honored. This is

the truth about which Nina Simone sang in the anthem

“I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free.” It’s the

truth to which Dr. Martin Luther King referred when he

said that “truth crushed to the earth will rise again.” Our

urge to be free is so strong that “nothing on earth can

stop (us) from feeling (that we were) born for liberty,”

a hard won slice of wisdom from factory worker and

Christian mystic, Simone Weil.

The struggle for freedom in the Bible goes back almost

to the very beginning, and it does not conclude until

the very end. Our freedom faces twin threats: external

and internal threats, each of which seeks to undermine

our true source of freedom, which is God.

And so, let’s take a closer look at these barriers to

freedom, and then at the path and picture which Paul

gives us of what freedom looks like in action. But

before we do that, we need to ask: what is freedom?

It’s a hard thing to define. I think if we put ten of us in

a row, we would get ten different definitions of what

freedom is. Actually, we’re Presbyterians, so if you put

ten people in a row, you would have fifteen definitions

of what freedom is.

Freedom is often thought of as freedom “from.”

Freedom from some oppressive weight or force.

Freedom from debt, from depression, from isolation,

from illness. Freedom from a difficult situation at home,

at work. Freedom from the rat race. Freedom from the

constant competition of having to keep up with the

Joneses or coming up on top.

But here’s the problem with narrowing our definition to

simply from. The vacuum left by the absence of these

things is filled by new ones. The wisdom of Jesus’

parable in Luke’s Gospel is just this: when one evil spirit

leaves a person, the empty space is filled with seven

others, making the situation far worse than before.

We can’t simply pursue freedom from. Again and again,

throughout Scripture, God shows us that freedom is

primarily freedom for. Freedom is an opportunity for

something. But what exactly is it an opportunity for?

Well, this is where the internal threat to freedom comes

in. Freed from external constraints, what will we do?

“Whatever we want” is one possible option. Paul warns

us of the consequence of using freedom’s opportunity

for self-indulgence. And he’s not just being a strict

schoolmaster. He’s simply pointing out the natural

consequences of everyone looking out for number one,

doing whatever we want. In our life together, when we

each seek our own self-interest, whatever satisfaction

we may find is short-lived at best. In the wake of selfindulgence is social chaos. People, as Paul says, end up

“biting and devouring each other” to get what they want.

On the Fourth of July this past week, my son Luke was

interested in watching something together that related

to the American Revolution. And so, we dove a little

bit into John Adams’ story. In dreaming of our nation’s

future, John Adams understood that freedom is not

simply freedom from external constraints. In a letter

to his wife, Abigail, he reflects that, “Passions are the

same in all men, under all forms of simple government,

and when unchecked, produce the same effects of

fraud, violence, and cruelty. When clear prospects

are opened before vanity, pride, avarice, or ambition,

for their easy gratification, it is hard for the most

considerate philosophers and the most conscientious

moralists to resist the temptation.”

Adams saw what Paul before him saw: the way to true

freedom is not found by throwing off all constraints and

pursuing whatever we want. That is simply exchanging

an external constraint for an internal one—namely,

the “god of our bellies.” When we live lives of selfindulgence, short-lived satisfaction is quickly eclipsed

by an insatiable need for more. The things we pursue

end up enslaving us. We need more and more. What

we own ends up owning us. What you pursue becomes

the god that you serve, requiring more and more of you

until there’s nothing left. At the end of the day, what

have we actually gained? Jesus asks us, “What good is

it to gain the world, and forfeit (your) soul?” (Mark 8:36)

Now the tricky thing here is that we desire good things.

We want good things. It’s why we’re drawn to them—

because they’re good! But, as St. Augustine points out,

they’re harmful not because they are bad, but because

they are good things loved in the wrong order or in

the wrong way. They are, as he says, disordered loves.

Food, companionship, respect, self-worth. These are

good things, but loved in the wrong order and at all

costs in the wrong way, their pursuit can hurt not only

us but everyone around us. Disordered loves wreak

havoc on individuals and communities.

Freedom must be about more than simply being free of

all external and internal constraints to pursue whatever

we want. And that’s because we were created, and are

created, in the image of God. Whatever freedom we

have, therefore, is in the image and likeness of God’s

freedom. And we learn in the Bible that God is not

simply free from but primarily free for.

Free for creating beautiful things out of nothing. Free

for loving God’s creation, even when it turns against

Him. In Jesus Christ, we see God’s freedom to not wait

for His love to be reciprocated or earned. No, in Christ

we see God’s freedom to love even those who hate

Him, to love us even as we are crucifying him. In Jesus

we see God’s freedom to disregard the social taboos

of the most religious in order to show God’s favor for

people cast out of religious circles. Freedom is for, in a

word, love.

God’s freedom is lived out and expressed relationally,

in relation to us. God shows us who God is and what

freedom looks like through uncoerced acts of free and

steadfast love showered upon us, again and again and

again and again. God’s love is free. It’s not dependent

on us living up to this or that standard. God loves us,

not out of obligation, not to reward us for our good

religion or best behavior, not because we have done

this or accomplished that. God is free of all of that.

“While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” When

we are at our best, God loves us. When we are at our

worst, God loves us. God’s freedom is expressed in

God’s unbound and eternal love.

Paul is saying that we are free in precisely this same

way. Yet, too often we remain tied up and imprisoned

by internal and external barriers to freedom. But

whether we are pressed in from the outside or are our

own worst enemies, the way out is love. Freedom is the

opportunity to love. To misuse freedom’s opportunity

for self-indulgence or our own ends—rather than to

love—is to be a prisoner who chooses to remain in his

cell, even though the door is open.

So, what happens when we make the decision to walk

through that door? Fruit grows. Fruit grows in the way

that Paul describes them. Relational fruit. Fruit like love,

joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness,

gentleness, self-control. This is what freedom in Christ

looks like in action. The presence of these fruit is a sure

sign that we are living by the Spirit, abiding in Christ,

engaged in his way of life, branches whose life is drawn

from the vine. The absence of these fruit should give us

pause; they should move us to ask seriously whether

we have gone off course, whether we are no longer

sailing by the winds of the Holy Spirit.

“Second Presbyterian Church is a welcoming

community of faith where Jesus Christ transforms lives.”

That is our mission statement. It is what we aspire to

be and to become. We are here to be transformed by

Jesus Christ, so that we might bear spiritual fruit for the

good of everyone around us. Like branches of a healthy

fruit tree, we need to be well nourished by streams

of living water, so that we may be free to bear the

relational fruit of the Spirit.

These are fruit that no money can buy. No one can

achieve or produce them on their own. They are God’s

fruit, which grow as we love our neighbors, even as we

love ourself, with patience, with kindness. When we

rein in self-indulgence and replace it with self-control,

when we exchange irritability with patience and

gratitude for the gift of the person in front of us, when

we live like this, God’s fruit grows in us.

Now, this kind of fruit takes time to grow. It doesn’t

grow over night. As pastor Eugene Peterson remarked,

“If I want a potato for dinner tonight, it will do me no

good to plant it this morning.” Like all good fruit, the

fruit of the Spirit requires careful tending over time, day

by day, until by God’s grace it is fully grown.

Our freedom, like God’s freedom, is expressed in taking

every opportunity we have, every day, to love each

other as God has loved us. It is that kind of freedom

that we were created for, and which bears fruit that

lasts. Amen.