Independence Day sermon

I filled in yesterday at New Covenant Presbyterian Church, and this is what I said:

            Tomorrow is Independence Day. It’s not an explicitly Christian holiday; it’s a holiday we share with American citizens of all faiths or even no faith. Nevertheless it’s a pretty big deal, and it seems appropriate to consider this holiday as we gather for worship on this Lord’s Day.

            For that reason I chose this passage from Paul’s letter to the Galatians to preach on today. There’s two concepts in this morning’s scripture lesson—freedom and law—that we Americans celebrate this time every year. It’s not surprising to us that these concepts turn up not only in American history but in the Christian scriptures as well, but as we shall see, Paul has an interesting take on these words freedom and law that may help us see these virtues in a new light.

            We live in a free country. For Americans, we experience freedom primarily as freedom from external restraints, especially those that may be placed on us by the government. In the United States there’s no such thing as government censors ripping out pages from library books to “protect” us from dangerous ideas. If we don't like the President, or the governor, or the dog catcher we can tell our neighbor over the back fence or write a letter-to-the-editor and it won't come back to haunt us. If we own a business, sure we’re taxed and regulated, perhaps more than we’d like to be, but we don’t have to display a picture of some President-for-life in the front window lest the secret police call on us in the dark of night, questioning where our loyalties lie. We’re a free people.

            We also live in a land where the rule of law is taken seriously. Of course there is corruption, but we can say with some confidence that due process, not a bribe, turns the wheels of justice. If the President wants to win a second term in office, he or she has to win re-election in a free and fair process. He cannot surround the opposition party’s headquarters with tanks or jail his opponent on trumped up charges.

            Such examples seem strange and absurd to us, but even after the fall of the Berlin Wall, the successful struggle against Apartheid and this year’s Arab Spring, millions of people are forced to put up with such absurdities each and every day. At times we face great challenges in life, but at least we don’t have to deal with these types of challenges. Today and tomorrow it’s appropriate to thank God for that.

            But when we turn to the apostle Paul’s letter to the Galatians, we find additional guidance on the concepts of freedom and law, some of which contradicts what our society takes for granted. Let’s begin with freedom. We Americans often speak about freedom as if it’s an end unto itself—as if there is no greater good than making as much money as you can or sounding off whenever you wish, without fear of being fined or jailed for your opinions. But as Paul sees it, freedom is only a means to an end. “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.”

            For many Americans, the automobile is an iconic symbol of freedom. Imagine yourself in a convertible, flying down Route 66, the sun shining, the wind in your hair. Paul asks us free Americans, “Where are you going in that car? Is your destination the dead-end self-indulgence, or is it the land of neighborly love?”

            That’s the dangerous aspect of living in American society. It’s as if the Constitution, the Bill of Rights and the free enterprise system hand us the keys to a shiny new car without any guidance whatsoever on where to drive that car. “Spiritual GPS not included.” If we lack a moral compass or a spiritual map, we’re liable to end up in what Paul calls the ditch of the flesh: sexual immorality, the angry factionalism of an Us-Versus-Them mindset, over-eating, blacking out and other empty and frivolous pleasures.

            What Paul recommends instead is to hand those keys over to the Holy Spirit, and let the Spirit lead us and guide us so that we can make better use of the freedoms that we enjoy, so that we can get somewhere worth going. Only when the breath of the Spirit fills us will the words we choose be kind and gentle, seasoned with the salt of peace, and most importantly, only then will our words be truth spoken in love that can build up, not tear down our neighbors. In this land of opportunity, we can invent a new product or start a new business and make some money, but only when we are guided by the Spirit will we be able to open our hands and live generously and not miserly with the fruits of our labors.

            Now Paul didn’t know what a red convertible was, so he uses different metaphors about the point of being free. In fact he uses strong, even offensive language. “You were called to freedom… but become slaves to one another.” This way of stating it goes back to the great Old Testament saga of the Hebrew slaves’ Exodus from Egypt, in which the Lord said to Pharaoh, “Let me people go, so that they may serve me.” Old and New Testaments agree that true freedom is obedient service to God and neighbor.

            How can this be? How can any form of servitude be freedom? In George Orwell’s novel Nineteen Eighty-Four, the words WAR IS PEACE, FREEDOM IS SLAVERY, IGNORANCE IS STRENTH were carved on the walls of the Ministry of Truth. Isn’t Paul playing an insidious word game here? 

            I don’t think so. The commandment “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” like all commandments, sounds restricting, but is in fact liberating. The person who freely submits to the needs of his/her neighbor in the name of Jesus Christ is free from many oppressive tyrants.

            For instance, the peaceful, patient man or woman is not dominated by a desire to get even. He or she is not enslaved to angry feelings. The generous person is the truly rich person, for the ability to part with one’s money easily demonstrates that one is a master of, not a slave to money. We experience these freedoms paradoxically, in the mode of service, but they are freedoms nonetheless.

            It’s for this reason that Paul describes the Christian life more in terms of spiritual fruit than in terms of a nose-to-the-grindstone struggle to do the right thing. Led by the Spirit and not by the desires that emanate from a brooding mind or a hardened heart or other parts of the body, the Christian blossoms with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. These are goods that money can’t buy.

            In terms of the law, Paul says something astonishing: those who are led by the Spirit are not subject to the law. Not subject to the law? We American Christians take pride in the fact that we are law-abiding people. Paul’s language here sounds equally troubling.

            But think about it. The law forces people to do good by threatening them with punishment if they do evil. In other words, the law leads people to do the right thing for the wrong reason. The law can modify external behavior but not the inward disposition.

            The person who is under the law, therefore, does not commit adultery, not because he believes that his wife is entitled to the same steadfast love that God has shown him, but because he knows she’ll take him to the cleaners if he cheats. A person who lives by the law may honor her father and her mother, not as a way of honoring her Father in heaven, but to keep from getting cut out of the will. Perhaps he won’t murder his tyrannical boss, not because he sees even in this person vestiges of the image of God, but because he doesn’t want to go to jail. Perhaps she won’t embezzle money, not because she respects the people whose money she’s entrusted with, but because she doesn’t want to wind up on the front page of the newspaper.

            It’s better than anarchy, but what a sad and cramped way to live! And this minimal standard of morality is the best that a free society can do.

            But if we are led by the Spirit, we are not subject to the law. The Spirit leads us to love freely and unreservedly. When we love our neighbor as ourselves, we joyfully and automatically honor our parents, our marriage vows and our neighbor’s right to life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness, and not out of a grudging and calculating spirit.

            Or rather, it is the Spirit joyfully fulfilling the law in us. Remember again Paul’s description of Christian virtues as fruits of the Spirit. That leads us to consider this table, where the fruit of the field and of the vineyard are set before us, through which we can partake in the body and blood of the Lord.

            Jesus said, “I am the vine; you are the branches; abide in me and you will bear much fruit, for apart from me, you can do nothing.” We can think of God the Father as the ground, the source of all that is, and the Son, Jesus Christ, as the vine sprouting forth from the Father. The Spirit is that mysterious process of growth in which the nourishment that the vine draws from the ground is communicated to us and blossoms and bears fruit in our lives.

            Because of the land in which we live, we have opportunities that others do not—opportunities that we should give thanks for today. But because we belong to the one who invites us to eat and drink at this table, we and those of many lands, have opportunities to blossom in ways that no government, society or nation can confer. Let us give thanks for that as well.