Spiritual Freedom
Fourth Sunday After Pentecost/Independence Day
July 1, 2007
Rev. Samuel Schaal

Galatians 5:1, 13-25
Luke 9:51-62

I recently found an article on “wealth addiction,” where the author of a book on the subject suggests that we use various things—products, alcohol, drugs, money, power—to remedy a feeling of being incomplete. The author said the issue is that we are trying to fill our existential emptiness with stuff; that people feel “not full” and try to fill the hole with junk.

Yesterday’s newspaper carried a perfect example of this. On yesterday’s front page of the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel was a story about the new iPhone. The iPhone went on the market on Friday. It’s is a new phone from Apple Computer that’s part phone, part iPod, and part internet browser. It has 16 distinct applications and all that fits in your pocket.

Here’s the interesting thing: the story about the iPhone was written, not by a news reporter, not by a business reporter, but by the religion editor. It was headlined “iBelief,” and questioned if the iPhone and all the other iGadgets from Apple constituted a religion (which one said could be called “Appleism”). The headline was snappy and above the fold: “The faithful are flocking to the altar of the iPhone. Has the Apple phenomenon become a religion?” The lead story tongue-in-cheek mirrored the elevated language of Genesis: “In the beginning, there was Apple I,” referring back to the original Apple personal computer.

In today’s paper there was another front-page story about the iPhone by another reporter. And this time this reporter compared the iPhone experience to going on a date, so he was comparing the iPhone to a girlfriend. So two stories in two days projects both divine and human qualities upon this little technological gadget.

I don’t know if the iPhone constitutes a new religion, but at least the media treatment of it suggests that society is projecting values of faith and religion onto a consumable product. This is yet another sign that we Americans have a thing for things. New technology is a great thing, and I look forward to the advance of technology, and, indeed, the iPhone sounds really neat. What most interests me here, though, is that the mania surrounding it suggests that we might overindulge in trinkets to fill a deep inner need; that we impute religious values to that which is not inherently religious; that we impute ultimate values to that which is not of ultimacy. That at some level, as the old hymn says, we are “rich in things but poor in soul.”

Sometimes, in our free society we attach ourselves to the wrong things, or at least we put the wrong value on things. Sometimes, perhaps, we use our freedom in ways that is not really that liberating.

We are blessed to live in a nation that has given us enormous freedom. And this freedom has produced great wealth, the benefits of living in a land of rich natural resources and in a culture that promotes a free society and a free market. All this has encouraged a strong work ethic, good levels of productivity and a wide distribution of marketable goods. This is all a good thing. Even those of us here with modest lifestyles are among the richest people on the globe, compared to global averages.

We are a blessed people materially. But sometimes amid our material prosperity we remain hungry in spirit. Sometimes we don’t claim our true freedom in God.

The stirring words of Paul in this morning’s New Testament lesson from Galatians is a classic of Christian freedom—often called “the charter of Christian liberty” because of its theme of liberty. Galatians was a favorite text of Martin Luther, as Luther was trying to move the church from a legalism that was suffocating it, in ways similar to how Paul was trying to move the church in Galatia from a legalism to a spirit-led freedom.

Typical of Paul’s letters, these are not mere theological treatises on various subjects meant to inspire the reader to greater faith. They are real letters written to real churches facing real problems. The problems over at the church in Galatia was that some Jewish Christian missionaries had encouraged the people to maintain the Jewish law and that as God’s covenant people, they should be circumcised. They were still stuck in the old law and so were, in Paul’s opinion, shut off from the work of the Spirit in the New Covenant of Jesus Christ.

Today’s lesson culminates his argument that started earlier that it is not necessary to follow the law, but that in the Spirit, followers of Jesus are free to follow God’s law.

We are, Paul says, “called to freedom.” But he quickly defines the kind of freedom God calls us to and it is not one of self-indulgence. Then he says that we should use our freedom to become slaves to one another. This image of slavery startles us, perhaps, but Paul understands that humans are free in some senses and enslaved in others, and the question is to whom or what we are free or enslaved. Then he quotes the great commandment of loving your neighbor as yourself. So Paul’s great preaching about freedom begins in, surprisingly, relationship. We are free only, he suggests, in relationship.

Then Paul compares and contrasts life in the flesh and life in the Spirit. By flesh, Paul is not speaking only of sexual sin, but flesh refers to a way of thinking or behaving that is confined to the human sphere, that operates without the guidance of the Spirit, that is grounded in a mere concern for selfish matters.

The lists of virtues are, for Paul, grounded not in mere human accomplishment, but come through the work of the Spirit. So freedom, then, is not merely a human virtue,, but true freedom is a gift of the Holy Spirit, a natural outcome of the Christian life, for those who have been freed from the power of sin.

In the Gospel lesson we get the same sense of freedom found in relationship to God. Jesus has begun the long journey toward Jerusalem. His face is set in that direction, meaning that he is intent on doing what must be done. This opening story in the longer travel narrative shows Jesus expressing some of the hard sayings. One person is willing to follow Jesus, but first wants to bury his dead father. Then another is willing to go on “The Way” but first wants to say goodbye to family. In both cases Jesus responds tersely that the Kingdom of God trumps both these merely human concerns. This is not an easy passage, as certainly dealing with family issues should be primary, we would think. Jesus is telling them that they must not let even reasonable responsibilities deter them from discipleship. The cost of discipleship is great.

I don’t read this story literally to say that we shouldn’t tend to family. This is a metaphor, perhaps, pointing to what is ultimately of value to us—that as Christians our ultimate concern is God and the Kingdom of God.

Both of these texts speak of a freedom that is not mere liberty from relationship or connection, but a freedom found in fellowship, a freedom found in relationship, a freedom found in community with God.

When Paul speaks of freedom, this is a different kind of freedom from our notions of national or political freedom. They are not the same thing, though they are related.

In the American experience, we find that it was with our own ancestors, the Puritans, that we begin to see the democratic element of religion expressed. But they did not call it that nor were they concerned with societal or political freedom. In seeking to purify the church and in separating from the Church of England by declaring the local church as the church complete, the Puritans rather unintentionally planted the seed that would later manifest as American democracy.

But they were not concerned with freedom primarily: they were trying to find God, to know God, and it is a curious and fortunate thing that out of that experience came democracy in the succeeding generations.

The free society has given us many benefits. We are incredibly blessed. But even this kind of freedom, as important as it is, cannot fill the depths of our existential need. Even and especially in a culture where we are largely left to follow the paths of our own choosing, do we need a God we can count on, do we need a community we can participate in, do we need a people to call our own.

Pascal, the 17th century scientist and philosopher, suggested that we had a “God-shaped void” in our hearts that could only be filled by God. Paul recognizes that it is easy to fall into the ways of the world and encourages his churches to stay on the path of the Spirit. Jesus dares to suggest that even family ties are not enough: we need to proclaim the Kingdom of God.

Over the last 50 years of our National Association—I say this having just returned from our Annual Meeting so denominational issues are on my mind—we have tended to emphasize freedom over fellowship. We have emphasized the independence of our congregations over the national and even global fellowship that we enjoy. Out of this has come some good things, including a healthy sense of Christian liberty, but out of this has come some not-so-good things as we’ve seen our wider fellowship falter and struggle. As we move into our next half-century we are beginning, I hope, to see that wider cooperation will result in a stronger association of churches. And on our various local levels, including in our church here, I hope that we’re beginning to emphasize church as a community, not merely an aggregation of free minds. And in that community that Christ calls us to, we each can be ourselves and understand the Christian story in our own ways, and struggle with that story to make it ours, but that we do this in fellowship, in community, in the ecclesia (the “gathering out of the called ones,” or church) that Christ calls us to be.

So on this independence day, let us also declare not our independence, but our dependence, or perhaps interdependence is a better word, on each other and on God.

Today we go to the Lord’s Table and we remember that it is a family meal. In the way that we take communion of course, we express it in both individual and corporate terms, but overall it is when we gather at the table with Christ and declare ourselves his community. It is here in relationship – at the table as well as elsewhere in our fellowship – where we might know true spiritual freedom. As our last hymn testified, “Make me a captive Lord, then I shall be free.”

As we approach our nation’s Day of Independence, let us remember our true independence is found within the dependence we have on God.

Amen.