“Free Indeed”
Original sermon given on Reformation Sunday, October 27, 2024, written and delivered by Pastor Jeff Leininger at First Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church.
Watch the sermon live.
“Free Indeed”
John 8.31-36
John 8.31-26
In the name of the Living God who has set us free, indeed.
“Freedom”. We like the word in this country, don’t we? We prize it above almost anything else as Americans, which is why, during any election season you’ll hear “freedom” used as slogan by nearly every politician. After all who can be against, “freedom”, right? The real question: “What are you really free from and what does freedom really mean?”
The word occurs four times in eight verses in this dialogue recorded between Jesus and some of his Jewish followers. The truth will eleutherosei you, Jesus says (set you free). They respond “How can you say we will be made eleutheroi(made free)?” The Lord claims that if the son eleutherosay’s you (frees you), you will be eleutheroi (free indeed). Eleutheroi. Hmmm… Who knew that Lutherans were mentioned in the Bible!?
The word certainly sounds like “Lutheran” and that’s not exactly a coincidence. The German Reformer Martin Luther — we remember and thank God for today for his rediscovery of the gospel and his reform of the church. Being born on St. Martin’s Day, he was named “Martin”, but his surname was the German “Luder”, which wasn’t really the best last name. It could mean anything from a carcass used for bait, to a hussy, that is a sexually promiscuous woman. I’m told that in modern German it can mean something like our “babe”. (So, I guess if you say Luther’s your “babe”, you’re kind of right.)
But like other scholars in the Renaissance era, “Luder” latinized, or “graecized” his last name. They did this both to sound sophisticated and educated, but also to establish a new identity which the new learning brought them. Martin “Luder” chose the Greek word for freedom, eleutheros: Martinus Eleutherius. He drew it from this very passage, because the freedom he found in Jesus changed his whole identity. It made him truly free.
The truth he rediscovered for the church is that the righteousness of God is not something we achieve but is something that we receive. Because of Christ’s work on the cross and his perfect life given to us as a covering over us; because Christ took our place, paid our debt, died our death, fulfilled the law on our behalf; because of this received through faith, we have true freedom (eleutheros).
True freedom was indeed the topic of the day, as Jesus and his fellow Jews have a theological discussion in Jerusalem, which St. John records for us. Our Lord makes the boldest of claims: abiding in him — his word, his teachings — brings truth and freedom. Indeed, it brings freedom like nothing else can.
Their reaction certainly seems historically puzzling to us, at first glance. “We are children of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone.” (John 8.33) Really? Never? Had they forgotten so quickly their own history? I mean, it’s actually hard to name a major power in the ancient world who they hadn’t served: Egypt, Assyria, Babylon, Greece, Syria, and, of course, their current overlords, the Romans.[1] Indeed, so common was this in their history that the Roman poet Cicero labelled them “a nation born to servitude.”[2]
They were certainly aware of this—they weren’t ignorant of their own history or current political situation. When they claim, “We’ve never been slaves to anyone,” they’re making a point about their own identity. They were Abraham’s offspring, they were God’s chosen, they were the keepers of the law in every minutia, they were the ones preserving the Torah. It was this which they consider true freedom, and their true identity, regardless of their history.
And it is this that Jesus confronts in them… and in us. Regardless of our religious or ethnic or ideological claims, “Whoever sins is a slave to sin.” Jesus reminds them, and us, of a deeper problem, a more serious slavery, stronger set of shackles which binds us all. Beyond history, ethnicity, politics, education, lineage, we all, by nature, are slaves to sin—and its irrational power. To deny this is either to not live an examined life, or to lie to oneself. “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.” (1 John 1.8) — so we confess together on our knees to begin worship.
It is a universal truth of all of humanity — this slavery to sin: the way we disregard God’s word or make merely an outward show of it. Or claim to love God but show so little charity to those around us, especially those we disagree with. Or the ways we claim sonship before God because of who we are and what we have done or accomplished. Or the ways we seek to justify ourselves before God, like the rich young ruler from the gospel a couple of weeks ago. Remember what he said, “All these laws I have kept since my youth.” Or the ways we turn God into, like a boss, or supervisor, or H.R. director, or teacher, or professor—thinking we can please him by just ticking off a list of good things we’ve done, and then he has to give us the raise or the grade we deserve. Or the ways we turn God into a giant, holy vending machine in the sky — if I just say the right prayers or go through the motions of the “right rites” — the dead rituals of religion — as if this will fool him or please him or placate him. All this is “slavery,” Jesus says. Slavery to sin and slavery to self.
Only the son can truly set you free. First because only this son, Jesus, truly confronts us, truly reveals the depths of our depravity and the heights of our hypocrisy. Only Jesus, facing Jesus and standing before his holiness and truth truly reveals who you really are. His word convicts us and lays bare our every thought, word, and deed which falls short of God’s glory. Indeed, isn’t it true that the closer we drawn near to this Truth, the more sin we discover in ourselves? The brightest light reveals the hidden imperfections.
This Jesus, the true son, sets us free first by revealing the full severity of our slavery to sin. And no pretention of progeny or piety, no amount of religious knowledge, no good things we do for our neighbor can ever achieve the real freedom we need.
But Jesus can. Jesus did. Jesus does. He alone. His word alone. His grace alone received by faith alone in him. That is, trusting in the son — who he is and what he has done — this, and only this, can make anyone truly free.
This son left his father’s home above, came all the way down into his fallen creation, was rejected and hated by our rebellious humanity, yet in return he responded with love. The son became a slave for us. The freed-one went to prison. The living-one chose death. The one who held all the universe in his hands, held nails for us on a rough wooden cross.
He gives his life in exchange for ours. Every sin we’ve ever committed, every evil heinous thought, every covetous longing — Jesus wore this all as his clothing on that Friday when the sky turned black.
And in exchange he gives us his perfect life as a gift, freely, through faith in his blood. By trusting in his work, we have all he has to give: righteousness, life, and freedom before God.
And it’s a freedom like none other in our world. Why? Because when you have this freedom in Jesus — eternal life and reconciliation before God — when you have this, it can never be taken from you. In life or in death. Every other freedom you will lose someday. Every other person will disappoint you, somehow. Every other earthly endeavor will fall short in some way. Every good deed done will have some tinge of failure in it.
But not the freedom given by the son. It’s the only freedom which comes from outside of us — ourselves and our world — and the only one that can’t be taken from us.
This then must become our new identity, our new name to be worn forever. Eleutheron. Free indeed.
Come soon Lord Jesus. Amen.
[1] Carson, The Gospel of John, 349
[2] Weinrich, John, vol. II, 138