It’s a glorious thing to discover that you are free. Freedom tastes good, smells good, feels good. But after you find out you are free, then what? What do you do with your freedom? There are only two answers to that question: freedom either leads you to devotion; or it drives you to devour. Freedom is either a devotion to things that build, or it is a drive to things that devour. After you find out that you are free, then what?
It falls my lot, once again, to be the preacher on the Sunday when we at Montgomery Hills focus on Black History. Here I am, in all my whiteness, as the preacher for Black History Sunday. What are we to make of that?
I got excited for a moment when I first saw the Sunday bulletin. During this season, the bulletin is running vignettes of persons significant to Black History. Two weeks ago, the bulletin featured our member Willie King, and she was here. Last week, the bulletin lifted up Congressman Louis Stokes, and he was here. This week, the bulletin pictures preacher Gardner Taylor and singer Jessye Norman! Wow, if you’re here today, either of you, will you please step forward! No such luck, I suppose.
It does remind me, however, of a story about Gardner Taylor, for many years pastor of Concord Baptist Church in Brooklyn. It seems there was a young preacher who was just not getting any response from his congregation, no matter how hard he tried. He did his best every Sunday, but they sat in stony silence. No one responded; no one said anything. And so the young preacher, desperate to learn what he could do better, went to hear the prince of preachers, Gardner Taylor. Now Dr. Taylor had a habit of coming to the pulpit in a preaching robe, but leaving it open. He never used the zipper or the buttons, just let the robe fall open. Our aspiring young preacher was fascinated with that, and so went back to his own pulpit the next Sunday, put on his robe, and, when it came time to preach, rather ostentatiously unzipped it so that he could at least look like Gardner Taylor. He launched into his sermon, but again, there was no response. Not an amen, not a “preach on”, not a sound – except for one deacon, sitting on the front row, who could stand the flapping robe no longer. The deacon shouted, at a critical spot in the sermon, “It’s not the robe, preacher, it’s not the robe.”
Well, it’s not the robe. It’s not appearance. It’s not what the preacher is wearing or his age or his accent or his culture. It’s not what the preacher looks like. If on Black History Sunday, and you are stuck with a white Kentuckian instead of Gardner Taylor and a mischievous Georgia girl instead of Jessie Norman, deal with it! For it is appropriate. It IS appropriate! It is appropriate not only because the Scripture says that “God has made of one blood all nations.” It is appropriate not only because Paul in this same Galatian letter exclaims, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” It is also appropriate because in our world, where racism still abounds, some of us are identified with the problem. Some of us represent those who over the centuries have felt entitled and superior. Some of us, however polite, however cultured, still harbor deep in us seeds of racism. And that needs to be dealt with.
And so maybe it is eminently appropriate this morning that the preacher for Black History Sunday be a white southern male, some of whose ancestors were slave owners and whose deeper instincts may still involve attitudes never fully examined. Is it possible, my brothers and sisters of the Caucasian persuasion, that we could, if provoked, become a Michael Richards, spewing hateful language all over the scene? Is it possible that we too could find ourselves, like the senior senator from Delaware, staggering and stumbling over words that betray condescension and disrespect? Today is for all of us, black and white and mixed and whatever. Today is about using our freedom in love.
For the theme of today’s message is straightforward: that we who are free can either use our freedom to devote ourselves to things that build; or we can use it to devour and to destroy. Which will it be? Hear Paul again:
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 the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself’. If, however, you bite and devour one another, take care that you are not consumed by one another.
It’s a glorious thing, I say, to discover that you are free. Freedom tastes good, smells good, feels good. But after you find out you are free, then what? What do you do with your freedom? There are only two answers to that question: freedom either leads you to devotion; or it drives you to devour. Freedom is either a devotion to things that build, or it is a drive to things that devour. After you find out that you are free, then what?
I
Let us begin with a celebration of our freedom. Let us begin by giving thanks to Almighty God that we do live in a land and in a time that values freedom.
When I think back over Christian history, and recognize that in 17th Century England, it was illegal for more than five people to gather to pray without the supervision of the parish priest, I am thankful for a land in which I am free to worship as a Baptist, as I choose; or not to worship, if I should choose that.
When I think back over American history, I am grateful that we have come as far as we have in the pursuit of freedom. I remember, growing up in the border city of Louisville, Kentucky, riding streetcars in which black folks had to go sit or stand behind a certain line. I remember going to schools where there were no black children. Can you imagine now that my public high school had no black students and only one Catholic student! We were young white Protestant America, with a few Jews thrown in for local color! I remember, in my childhood, learning about the absurdities of racism. The K&I Bridge – that stands for Kentucky and Indiana – was a rickety old railroad bridge between New Albany and Louisville. I was told as a child that trains must stop on the bridge, if they were heading south, because there needed to be time for the white and black passengers to move into separate cars before the train could proceed! How ridiculous! But it was the law. I do not recall questioning it much as a child. Nor did it strike me as strange until much later that all the churches I knew about had distinctly one-color congregations. How blind I was, and how deprived we were, though it looked like privilege!
Can we not thank God now that most of that is gone? Can we not give thanks that segregation by law is long destroyed, and that separation by personal preference is far reduced? For freedom Christ has set us free! And I for one am grateful to have been pastor of a multi-racial church, and to have joined one that values the same thing. My wife and I would not have joined Montgomery Hills had everybody here looked like us.
Let us give thanks today that the work of Christ in setting us free has moved forward. We are free to worship as we prefer, free to live where we want, free to go to the schools that serve us best, free to marry as our hearts lead us – it astonishes me to think that only a generation ago in some states my daughter’s marriage would have been illegal and my grandchildren regarded as illegitimate!. We are a free people, and we should sing and shout about that.
Let’s say it again: it is a glorious thing to discover that you are free. Freedom tastes good, smells good, feels good. But after you find out you are free, then what? What do you do with your freedom? There are only two answers to that question: freedom either leads you to devotion; or it drives you to devour. Freedom is either a devotion to things that build, or it is a drive to things that devour. After you find out that you are free, then what?
II
So the apostle Paul now lifts up a dreadful warning for us:
You were called to freedom ... if, however, you bite and devour one another, take care that you are not consumed by one another.
It is a sad commentary on human nature that when we gain privilege, we forget that we are called to share that privilege with others. We get so wrapped up in what is ours, what we have, that we lose sight of our responsibility to share. And so it is with freedom. It is easy to be obsessed with how free we are and how many privileges we have and forget that many others do not share in those things. But when we do that, we pay a dreadful price. We dilute our own freedom when we do not devote ourselves to others’ freedom.
When Paul speaks in the same breath about self-indulgence and devouring one another, he knows what he is talking about. He knows that the more we become invested in protecting ourselves, the more we are in danger of losing what we have gained. But, conversely, the more we are devoted to giving away what we have, the more we have to give. Jesus said the same thing when He told us, “Whoever would save his life will lose it; but whosoever would lose his life for my sake and the Kingdom, will find it.”
The only way then for us to be free is to see to it that others have freedom too. Dr. King told us that none of us are free until all of us are free, and then went on to speak of what he called the “beloved community” as a place where freedom and justice are made available to all.
I am old enough to remember the poisonous atmosphere of segregated America, the suspicion and fear that penetrated both black and white populations. When I surrendered to the call to preach at the age of 20, I shared that decision with a black brother who operated the elevator in the building where I had a little government job. He was a preacher, too, and soon he invited me to come and preach at his church. Well, when my father heard where I was going to go, he insisted on coming along with me, just to make sure. That’s all he said ... make sure of what? Just to make sure. Fear and suspicion, in small doses, maybe, but it was there. And it will devour.
My brothers and sisters, you and I need to devote ourselves to those things that build freedom and fight fear. If we are free, we have a choice: either to work for extending freedom to others, or to allow fear and suspicion to devour us. What will it be?
I believe that we need to be concerned about freedom for the oppressed peoples of the world. Last week our pastor lifted up in prayer the people of Darfur. The wanton killings of in southern Sudan must be stopped, and Christians must be first among those who press for the world to act. We ought to be willing to sign petitions and give money and do whatever we can to alleviate so dire a situation. This nation sent troops to Iraq to overthrow a dictator; the fact that there isn’t any oil in Darfur should not make us any less diligent there!
I believe that we need to be working against the traffic in human beings that is going on all across the world. The State Department says that there is more slavery now than in the four hundred years of African enslavement. As many as 27 million people are in some form of slavery. Young girls forced into the sex trade in Thailand ... bonded laborers who are trapped into paying exorbitant loans that can never be paid off ... 15 to 20 thousand people smuggled into the United States each year to work in servitude, some of that in wealthy homes where they are kept as servants and nannies, for no pay. Our voices must be raised to stop this kind of thing.
And there is another dimension. Political freedom, social freedom, yes. But let us not omit this – as Christians you and I have the greatest gift of all to give: spiritual freedom. Something no government can or should do – something the United Nations will never embrace – something no secular leader can ever accomplish: when you and I share the good news of Jesus Christ, we are offering the gift of ultimate freedom, spiritual freedom. He who proclaimed, “If the Son make you free, you shall be free indeed” is the real source of freedom. It is He who calms our fears, it is He who destroys our prejudices, it is He who empowers us for justice. It is Christ who, above all things, frees us from that deepest of enslavement, sin, and liberates us from that last of enemies, death. And so we must, without equivocation, boldly devote ourselves to extending the Gospel to the entire community, all of it, black and white, rich and poor, young and old, all shades and descriptions.
For remember, freedom either leads you to devotion; or it drives you to devour. Freedom is either a devotion to things that build, or it is a drive to things that devour. We at this church are called to devote ourselves to building the beloved community right here on this corner, without apology; and if we do not do so, we will find ourselves falling into self-destructive oblivion.
III
For, you see, ultimately it is Christ who gives us freedom, and it is Christ who empowers us to share it. When you truly experience the liberating power of Christ, then facing a world of hatred and prejudice and slavery is not only possible, it is imperative. Dr. King did not willy-nilly choose to become the leader of the Montgomery Improvement Association; that role was thrust upon him by those who saw that he had experienced Christ and was empowered to lead by Christ. If you are challenged by my words this morning, and you want to be part of devotion to freedom and not of devouring, know that it must begin with your personal transformation through knowing Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord. There is no other way to be an effective spokesman for freedom than to be in Christ, strengthened by His power.
There is a very special event that is being observed this year during Black History Month. It is the 200th anniversary of the abolition of slavery in the British Isles. Britain’s conscience was aroused by the matchless oratory and the spiritual presence of a Christian member of parliament, William Wilberforce. Wilberforce was a magnificent witness and a skilled politician. But behind Wilberforce there was yet another witness, yet another power.
John Newton had gone to sea at the age of 11, and had spent many of his younger years at sea. When he was 20, he became deeply involved in the slave trade, going to Sierra Leone to pick up a load of Africans, but falling out of favor with his employers and finding himself on a merchant ship where he plied his time deriding Christians, inventing curses, and drinking himself into oblivion. When a great storm almost wrecked that ship, Newton’s companions began to think of him as a Jonah who was at fault for the whole mess. But, in the end, the ship was saved and Newton survived. At age 23, John Newton received a commission to operate a slave ship and returned several times to Africa to haul his desperate human cargo.
But John Newton had a friend, a fellow captain named Alexander Clunie. Clunie was a Christian who took the time to share his faith with Newton. Slowly but surely John Newton began not only to understand the Christian faith, but also to experience Jesus Christ personally, for himself. On the 10th of May in 1748 John Newton, aged 23, received Jesus Christ as Lord. He left the slave trade, went on to study for the ministry, was ordained in the Church of England, and was sent to the parish of Olney, where his preaching attracted wide attention.
But God was not yet finished with Newton. Newton had received his freedom, but he had not yet given away freedom. Soon Pastor Newton formed a friendship with William Wilberforce, and together they campaigned for and accomplished the abolition of the slave trade in Britain.
John Newton died at the age of 82 that same year, 1807, saying to his people in his last message, “My memory is nearly gone, but I remember two things, that I am a great sinner, and that Christ is a great savior.” On his gravestone they carved, “John Newton, once an infidel and libertine, a servant of slaves in Africa, was by the rich mercy of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, preserved, restored, pardoned, and appointed to preach the faith he had long labored to destroy.”
You know John Newton. You know him better as the author of the classic hymn, “Amazing Grace”. For who better than a man like him could know, “Through many dangers, toils and snares, I have already come; ‘tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home.”?
For if it is a glorious thing to discover that we are free ... if indeed freedom tastes good, smells good, feels good ... if we must do something with your freedom ... freedom may drive us to devour, or, if Christ be in your heart, freedom will lead you to heights of devotion and to great gifts for this world.
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 the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’
