The Fruits of Freedom
Galatians 5:1, 13-25
The TV show Mad Men, which wrapped up 10 years ago, tells the story of the workers at Sterling Cooper, a fictional boutique Madison Avenue ad agency in the 1960s. While much of the drama concerns the personal lives of the characters lived outside the office, as a former advertising creative myself, many of my favorite scenes involve the work that takes place within the office.
In one memorable scene from one of the earliest episodes, the creative team is pitching their client, a lipstick manufacturer, on a new ad campaign. The old campaign highlighted the vast assortment of colors offered—every shade of pink and red under the sun. The agency creates a new campaign that focuses instead on the power of a woman's choosing the one color that is uniquely hers. Whereas the old campaign was about presenting a woman with an array of choices, the new campaign is about the power of a woman’s choice. It’s a subtle but significant difference.
At first, the company’s owner is unimpressed. “I only see one lipstick in your drawing,” he objects. “Women want colors. Lots and lots of colors.” After a fraught moment, in which the agency’s creative director calls an abrupt end to the meeting (“You’re a nonbeliever. Why should we waste time on kabuki?”), the CEO is eventually persuaded to the merits of the new campaign. After all, advertising is the art of persuasion.
The creative team at Sterling Cooper has hit on a key insight that is as true today as it was in 1960—having many options from which to choose is not necessarily what people want. Having too many choices can be overwhelming. I’m glad that Sandy does the shopping for us because if I walked down the toothpaste aisle of the supermarket, I don’t know that I could come to a decision on which brand, let alone which type of toothpaste to buy.
Do I want a toothpaste that focuses on whitening, gum health, sensitivity relief, cavity protection, tartar protection, or enamel protection? Do I prefer gel or paste? What about a toothpaste that comes with a mouthwash chaser? What flavor do I want? Fresh Mint, Radiant Mint, Smooth Peppermint, Clean Mint, Whitening Cool Mint, Advanced Arctic Fresh, or Cinnamon (ugh!)? The supermarket menu of options for toothpaste is longer than the wine list of a three-star Michelin restaurant. I just want to brush my teeth! I shouldn’t need a flowchart!
It’s not just me. Last week the monthly news magazine The Atlantic published an article titled “Americans Are Tired of Choice.” In it, the author asks, “How did freedom become synonymous with having lots of options?” I think that question hits on an undeniable truth: In a consumer-driven society such as ours, freedom has come to mean having lots of options to choose from. Just one toothpaste? Tyranny! Four hundred toothpastes? Freedom!
However, the freedom that Paul writes about in today’s reading from Galatians is of a wholly different order. “For freedom Christ has set us free,” the passage begins. What is this freedom of which Paul speaks? It does, indeed, involve the freedom to choose, but not in a consumerist sense. We’re not choosing a wireless plan or a dandruff shampoo. Rather, the freedom Paul speaks of is the freedom to choose love.
Love. That is the end goal of the freedom that is ours in Christ. Freed from judgment under the law by the grace of Christ, we are free for love, free for joy, peace, and patience, free for kindness and generosity, free for faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
This is our first time reading from Galatians, so having a bit of background should help our understanding of why Paul writes so urgently and passionately about freedom in Christ. The first thing to note is that this letter is not addressed to one church but to multiple churches in Galatia. The ancient Roman province of Galatia corresponds to modern-day Central Turkey. The churches Paul writes to are churches that he founded on one of his missionary journeys.
The Galatians were Gentiles, i.e. nonJews. Unlike the twelve disciples, they were not Jews who came to believe that Jesus was the Messiah. Before committing themselves to Christ, they had been pagans, meaning they didn’t follow the law of Moses, they weren’t circumcised, and they ate pork.
Somewhere along the line, however, after being introduced to the gospel through Paul, the Galatians came under the influence of a group of Jewish Christians. These Jewish Christians insisted that if the Galatians wanted to follow Christ, they also needed to follow the law of Moses. In effect, they said, “We know that Paul shared with you the gospel. He was right about most of it, but he got a few things wrong that we’ll correct for you.
“For starters, you all need to get circumcised. Second, no more pork chops or shrimp cocktail. The law forbids us from eating anything unclean, and the Lord has declared those to be unclean.”
When Paul hears that the Galatians have superimposed the law on to the gospel, he is dismayed and fires off this highly charged letter to remind them what he taught them—that they are not under the law but under grace, a grace that frees them from the judgment of the law. “Stand firm,” he tells them, “and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery” (5:1). Understand what Paul is saying here; he is equating the law with slavery. This coming from a former Pharisee, an expert in the law!
To complete the analogy, the gospel, then, would be freedom—freedom through the grace of Jesus Christ. While the law judges, grace justifies. While the law condemns, grace forgives. While the law tells us what we must do or not do, grace proclaims what Christ has done for us. On the cross Jesus does for us what we, under the law, could not do for ourselves. He makes us right with God. The law reveals that we are sinners, but grace declares that we are sinners who have been forgiven, loved, and set free.
I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating: we have a hard time accepting just how simple the gospel really is. I suspect that’s because we like to be in control. And the law promises to give us control. “Follow these rules,” the law says, “and you will be alright.”
The gospel, however, is about grace—something over which we have no control. We don’t earn grace. We don’t choose grace. We don’t climb our way up the ladder to grace. By definition, grace is something that we do not and cannot earn. Rather, grace is given to us. Grace is Jesus Christ saying to us, “Come to me all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28).
But the law has a fatal flaw…us…our sin.
None of this is to say that the law is bad. The law is good. The law was given to the Israelites to show them the way to God. The law showed them that God values mercy for the poor, justice for the oppressed, and loving relationships between neighbors. But the law has a fatal flaw…us…our sin. The law shows us that we’ve gone astray, that we’ve made a mess of things out in the world and in our lives and relationships, but the law can’t do anything about it. The law diagnoses the problem but offers no solution, no remedy, no cure. The law is like a doctor who tells you that you have a fatal disease but doesn’t offer any treatment options. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do. That will be a $45 copay, please.”
. It’s not the freedom that’s symbolized in the Fourth of July, which is coming in just a few days. Our freedom is not a declaration of independence. Quite the contrary. Our freedom is more of a declaration of dependence. “For you were called to freedom,” Paul writes. “Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become enslaved to one another.”
That’s quite a remarkable turn of phrase: “through love become enslaved to one another.” What Paul is really saying here is that we are not truly free, i.e., free in Christ, unless we fully understand how dependent we are upon one another. We’re not truly free unless we see our neighbor’s good as our own good, our neighbor’s welfare as our own welfare, our neighbor’s suffering as our own suffering. “For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’”
Can you imagine what the world would look like if we actually lived like we believed that? As a nation, we wouldn’t be arresting immigrants with no criminal records who’ve lived and worked in this country for years. We wouldn’t have withdrawn virtually all foreign aid to the world’s poor, depriving the hungry of food, the sick of medicine, and those susceptible to illness of vaccines. We wouldn’t have deepening income inequality, such that the wealthiest 1% have seen their incomes soar while the poorest are at risk of losing what little they have.
It is possible. We can live in a different way, a way not governed by our fears and our selfish desires, or what Paul refers to as the works of the flesh. “Live by the Spirit,” Paul says. Live in the freedom that comes from the Holy Spirit. Life in the Holy Spirit means freedom from the judgment of the law, freedom from feeling that you’ll never be enough or do enough, freedom from the fear that God, or society, or your neighbor or somebody somewhere is keeping score and you are not going to measure up.
Life in the Spirit is freedom from all of that and more. Not only does the Spirit grant us freedom from, the Spirit also frees us for. The Spirit frees us for a new way of being in the world. A way of being that is led by and fed by the Holy Spirit. A way of being that, because we are rooted in Jesus Christ, bears the fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Because when we are freed from the judgment of the law and freed from our fears, we are then free to live and love as God intends.