CHRISTINE GORDON | CONTRIBUTOR

Some good friends of mine host a BBQ to celebrate the 4th of July every year, only they have it on the 3rd. Why? They know families gather on the 4th to eat hot dogs, watch fireworks, and do other American celebratory things, and they think the great freedoms we enjoy are worthy of more than one night of festivities. Hence, another party. They love the United States. So do I. I’ll never forget standing in Tiananmen Square in Beijing one summer with a group of Chinese English students. As we slowly walked across the square, I asked them what it was like to stand where such a tragic event had taken place. “What event?” they asked me. These, the brightest and best of their generation, did not enjoy access to their own history as I did in my country. Suddenly the limits of their freedom were frighteningly clear. I closed my mouth and changed the subject, afraid for their safety if anyone heard me explaining the massacre that had taken place.

As Americans, we’ve come to expect many types of freedom. We expect to worship without fear of government involvement or regulation, to speak our minds, and fill our Substacks as we wish. Flags fly in our schools and from our porches to remind us of our privileges: freedom of religion, speech, press, assembly, and petition.

But American freedom is not the same as biblical freedom.

Set Free in Christ

Paul wrote to the Galatian church that they might know and enjoy salvation through Christ’s work, not their own. He needed them to understand that no Jewish custom, holiday, or rule-keeping could increase God’s love for them or save them from their sins. They were free from trying to reach a standard to be saved. But after spending 117 verses convincing these saints of their freedom in Christ, Paul continues in 5:13, “For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another.”

Freedom wasn’t given to these saints so they might serve themselves. Their newly found freedom in the gospel wasn’t a license for selfishness, but a call to service. Another way to translate the end of verse 13 could read like this: “Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love be a slave to one another.” Yes, you’ve been set free from the slavery of sin, from striving to be a good Jew or a good anything. Only Christ’s goodness is enough, and it’s been given to you. But for what purpose? Verse 14 answers this question, “For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

When we were slaves to sin, we could only serve ourselves, only fixate on our wants and wishes. It wasn’t possible for us to give ourselves completely to God or His people when our hearts were turned inward. When He saved us, Christ set us free to love Him and others. What a freedom! Now, by the power of the Spirit, we can truly serve. He empowers us to take our eyes off ourselves and investigate the needs of our brothers and sisters, neighbors and friends. As believers, we are slaves of Christ and slaves to one another. This is the only appropriate use of our freedom, the only purpose weighty enough for such a fabulous ability. To serve one another is to follow in the footsteps of Jesus, to love Him as He loved us, to be like our Master.

Freed to Love Our Neighbor

So, what does this Biblical freedom mean for us when we enjoy so many other freedoms in our country?

Imagine Paul writing to “the church in the United States.” Maybe he would write something like this: “Do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh. But through love be slaves to one another. Love your neighbors as yourself.” Who are the neighbors of the church in the United States? Who should the American church serve with their manifold documented freedoms? Consider Jesus’s words as He describes the end of the age when He comes in glory and separates His children, the sheep, from those belonging to Satan, the goats, “‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’” The least of these live in America. The least of these are the faces where we meet Jesus in need and have the opportunity to serve him. They are immigrants, refugees, and orphans. Foster kids and those without health insurance. They are the disabled without an advocate, the unborn without a voice, the elderly without a companion, the sex trafficked without a way out.

Whatever freedoms we’ve been given are not for us, but for our neighbors. How will we use them? For whom? We’ve been given unbelievable freedoms as Americans, for which we should thank God and those who fought for them. But our greatest freedom will always be that which Christ bought: the freedom to lay our rights aside as He did and take on the pains and problems of others. This is our great privilege as those who are free.

Photo by Christian Bowen on Unsplash