Sermon: Pentecost 3 - Galatians 5.2-15, June 14, 2026
Scripture: Galatians 5.16-22
Preacher: Ryan Slifka
Sermon: Pentecost 3
“It is for freedom,” the Apostle Paul says at the beginning of chapter five. “It is for freedom that that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.”
This week we’re continuing our sermon series on Paul’s letter to the churches of Galatia. Of course something that keeps coming up over and over is circumcision, or word of the month. And another that keeps coming up is this idea freedom. Gerry’s sermon last week was all about it. “It is for freedom Christ has set us free.”
For Paul, the Galatians submitting to circumcision is a form, not of freedom, but of slavery. Here Paul even says if you start with circumcision, you’ve got to go the whole way and keep the law of Moses.
You go that way, he says. See how far you go before you’re exhausted, fearful. Waiting to judge your neighbours, awaiting your neighbors’ judgment. If you go that way, Jesus is of no use to you! Why? Because in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God has not only dealt with your past with forgiveness on the cross, he’s set a whole future ahead of you with the resurrection. That’s what we’re waiting for with the gift of the Spirit. It’s on the way. It’s ours. You go with the law, Jesus is useless. Because Jesus is grace. Jesus has either done all this, or he hasn’t, and circumcision—that implies Jesus is not sufficient, and you’ve gotta do something to make Jesus sufficient.
And who told you this was a good idea anyway? It wasn’t God. And it wasn’t me—I’ve never taught that. Who’s the little sprinkle of yeast among you that’s ruined the dough? I wish when they were being circumcised they’d just gone all the way on them and taken it all off! (This is what Paul’s saying here by the way—not me).
Don’t get me wrong—I trust that God will lead you back on the right path. But if that’s what you think makes you part of the people of God, if that’s what you think justifies you, puts you right with God, then go for it. But don’t come crawling back to me when you find the law wrapped around you like so many heavy chains. Remember that it’s for freedom, Christ has set us free. The law’s your ticket right back into slavery.
Freedom is at the heart of Paul’s message. And to submit to the rigours of the Law in any way would be a total capitulation. For freedom Christ has set us free.
Now, what does Paul mean exactly when he says freedom? It’s something all of us can agree on. Freedom’s a good thing. But what does Paul mean by that word—freedom?
Generally, we as North Americans hear that word freedom, and think the ability to live our lives without outside interference. To do whatever we want without the state or fellow citizens interceding. As long as we don’t hurt other people—at least directly. Or infringe on their right to do and be and act as they want.
Of course, there what we might consider left-wing and right-wing versions of this. The left-wing or progressive version tends to see freedom as personal. Who we have sex with, substances we consume. Bodily autonomy, and self-expression, without interference.
And the right-wing, or conservative version, is more or less the flip side. Freedom is often economic. The ability to make money, spend money, and keep money, without interference.
I’m very aware that this binary doesn’t exactly describe things, but it’s a generalization to illustrate a point. And the point is that regardless of our ideology, regardless of what part of our lives it applies to, freedom for us means the freedom to do what we want. To do what we want, when we want. Without outside interference.
Now, the question is—is this what Paul means by “freedom?” The answer is yes. And the answer is no.
The answer is “yes” in the sense that the good news of Jesus Christ is that there’s no cruel taskmaster looking your shoulder, waiting to see if you’ve slipped up. You don’t have to perfectly perform to be worthy of life and love. These are a given from God. This lines up with our modern view of freedom in the sense that freedom means freedom from crushing legalism. There is no “do this or else.” The answer is yes on account of this thing called grace we are free from such oppressive things. In this way it fits with our modern view of freedom.
But the answer is also no. It’s also no.
How so? It’s right there in the Word. “For you were called to freedom,” says Paul. “You were called to freedom brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence.” Don’t use your freedom for self-indulgence.
Or another translation: “do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh.” Or another: “don’t let this freedom be an opportunity to indulge your selfish impulses.” One commentator points out that the original Greek means something like “don’t allow your freedom to be turned into a military base for operators of the flesh.” Like, don’t let your freedom be twisted into use by the powers of this world. So the kind of freedom Paul’s talking about excludes selfishness.
Why?
One of my favourite outlaw country singers Billy Joe Shaver says it better than I ever could in his song appropriately titled “low-down freedom.”
It’s a song about a ramblin’ man that goes from woman to woman, job to job, never settling:
“Low down freedom, you done cost me
Everything I'll ever lose
You're as empty as my pockets
And you're colder than the water
That keeps soaking through my boots.”
Selfishness does this to us. It turns us in on ourselves. It’s a form of freedom, yes. But an empty form of freedom. Paul says it’s not the kind of freedom he’s talking about, but another form of slavery. We may think it’s freedom, but it’s the opposite.
It’s likely that Paul’s actually been accused of promoting this kind of freedom, so he feels like he’s gotta set the record straight. Having freedom may be freedom from oppressive powers, he says, but it is also very clearly not the freedom to do whatever we want.
In that way, no, what Paul means by freedom doesn’t fit our modern definition of freedom.
So what then, is Paul’s idea of freedom, if it isn’t just doing what we wanna do? Let’s listen again:
“Do not use your freedom,” Paul says. “Do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another.”
Through love become slaves of one another.
Christian freedom here has something to do with love. The freedom, the ability to love. Which does sound like a bit of a useless cliché, doesn’t it? Like, who could disagree with love, it’s a good thing. But what does it even mean?
What he means is in the second half of that sentence. The become slaves of one another part. Which, at first sounds less like freedom, and more like something out of Orwell’s 1984. SLAVERY IS FREEDOM.
But that’s not what he’s saying. True freedom is the ability to love like a slave. The freedom to love like a servant. That’s the opposite of selfishness, isn’t it?
And Paul’s not making it up—it’s directly from the Old Testament book of Leviticus: “the whole law,” he says. “The whole is summed up in a single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself.” Which, of course, Jesus takes up as the second half of the greatest commandment: Love God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength. And love your neighbour as yourself. And it’s the love that the Lord himself embodied. “The Son of Man,” Jesus says. “The Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, and give his life as the ransom for many.” In his life and ministry. This is the commandment that Jesus fulfilled, lived out perfectly. In his death and resurrection.
Our inability to love our neighbours is actually the true slavery. But Christian freedom is being given the ability to love our neighbours as ourselves. It’s being given the freedom to sacrifice ourselves for the sake of others—especially in the household of faith. It’s not the freedom to do what we want, but being given the strength, to do the will of our Father in heaven. And that will is to love. Even our enemies. Even our enemies.
True freedom is being freed from selfishness and self-centredness, being given the freedom to love and serve our neighbours selflessly. To love as Jesus loved. That’s what Christian freedom is.
To love absolutely selflessly. To love as Jesus loved. That’s what true Christian freedom is.
There is one problem, of course. That you and I aren’t Jesus. No doubt Paul here sounds like just another version of the overburdened, impossible Law that Paul demolishes throughout the letter. Like, have you ever tried to love the way Jesus says? At least something like circumcision is one and done! But loving like Jesus loves… that sounds impossible.
It is impossible. But that’s the point. It’s exactly why we’re here. Because we know it’s impossible. We’re here because we know ourselves. You know yourself. We know that we’re not good people getting better, or people who with a simple pep talk or inspiration could become more loving. No.
No, we’re here because precisely because we know we’re not. We’re here because we know that we aren’t free. We’re here because we long for the kind of freedom Paul talks about. We long to love in the unselfish way Paul talks about. But have fallen spectacularly short. We are here because we need help. We can’t love like this on our own.
And the good news of the gospel, dear friends, is that we aren’t on our own. Paul says that nothing for us matters but “faith working in love.” And here’s the thing: the love he’s talking about isn’t our ability to love. It isn’t an exhortation to love harder. Like you ever forced yourself to love someone? The love we’re working with is a love greater than our own. It’s the love that hung the stars in the sky. It’s the love that took all our sins on the cross. It’s the love that raised Jesus from the dead.
And it’s a love, says Paul in his letter to the Romans, this love “has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.”
Think about it. A love that has been poured into our hearts. The love we’re talking about isn’t our own love. But it’s the love of God. Not a love we can earn or generate, but one given to us. The gift of God herself given to us. A love that makes the impossible possible.
Maybe you can’t help but drop the ball as a spouse. Maybe you can’t help but judge and resent your spouse. Maybe you’re an abject failure as a parent, or maybe your kid has screwed up so badly as to be unlovable, and you just can’t bring yourself to take another call. Maybe you can’t bring yourself to give anything but a scowl to the homeless, or you can’t find a grain of strength to give of yourself to your family, your community or otherwise. Or maybe you’ve been hurt so badly and deeply that you can’t possibly forgive.
Maybe you can’t. But the good news is that God can.
Because if God could do the impossible by raising Jesus from the dead to eternal life, then it means that then there’s hope for you and for me in all our un-lovingness. If God can raise Jesus from the dead, God can take your heart of stone, and by the power of the Holy Spirit, give you a heart of flesh. If God can raise Jesus from the dead, it means that all those chains that bind us can be broken, will be broken. Not by your own strength, but by the power of the living God.
This is why we’re here dear friends. For freedom. Not the freedom to follow our hearts down the road into empty eternal darkness. But the freedom to know the very heart of God. But the freedom for which Christ has set us free. The freedom to love.
Try to do this on your own, and of course, it’ll never be done. But believe this, dear friends, believe this and before you know it, God will start doing it in you.
In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.