Don't Fence Me In!
Sermon
Sermons On The Second Readings
For Sundays In Advent, Christmas, And Epiphany
Goodspeed translates our text: "I may do anything I please but not everything I do is good for me. I may do anything I please but I am not going to let anything master me." So Saint Paul is saying, "I am free and yet I am not free; I rejoice in my freedom, and yet I recognize that there are limits to my freedom." With these inspired insights we come face to face with one of the most critical issues in our world -- and in your life and mine. How do we interpret and how do we exercise our freedom? This is an issue that concerns every sincere Christian. More than that, it is, in some of its aspects, an issue that confronts every American.
For a few moments let's consider the problems that exist at the very heart of our freedom -- or freedoms. How absolute are they?
It doesn't take long for us to discover that our political freedoms are much easier to shout about than they are to define or maintain. Take freedom of speech, for example. Is it absolute -- with no strings attached whatsoever? No! If it were, there would be no laws governing libel and slander. If it is not absolute, where does the government draw the line? Or, take the issue of freedom as it appears in connection with our personal living. An increasing number of Americans have espoused the notion that no one has the right to put any restraints on their liberties. "Don't fence me in" is their catchword. "It's my life, isn't it; if it feels good, I'll do it." Some time ago, a teacher, writing in one of our education magazines, spoke of the rejection of discipline, the vandalism and general disorderliness of the students in her large suburban high school. She quoted one of the seniors as saying, "This is a public school; I can do what I please in it." You say, "What that boy needs is a good whipping." Perhaps so, but don't be too sure about it. Long before he adopted such an idea, he needed the help and guidance of some older folks who knew the meaning of life. Instead of getting such help, he probably came under the influence of the sort of persons who write some of our modern novels and plays. The advice offered by one of these writers is: "Let a man give rein to his impulses as they come." It is that kind of heresy that has helped produce the moral anarchy we see about us so frequently. Dr. Paul Scherer somewhere remarked that one of the definitions of freedom in his dictionary was, "The state of being without physical -- or moral -- control." Scherer continued: "If that is what freedom is, we ought to get down on our knees right now and pray God fervently for someone to come along and take it away!" Precisely! We don't get far in this business of personal living before we discover that our liberties must have some controls set about them or life -- both for ourselves and others -- goes to pieces.
That's enough about problems, let's search out some inspired solutions. I believe we find them in our text for this morning. Listen as Saint Paul speaks: "I may do anything I please, but not everything I do is good for me." The New Revised Standard Version has this last clause read: "But not all things are beneficial." This puts us on the track of thought that I want to suggest. The Greek word translated "beneficial" means "fitting, profitable, appropriate, helpful." This points us to the first solution to the problem of our freedom, the Christian understanding of how our faith controls -- and enriches -- our freedom. When we arrive at decisions, we travel a route that makes us consider the result of that action not only on ourselves but also on others who journey with us. Few of us ever discover how very much our personal influence impacts the lives of those among whom we spend our moments.
A young missionary returned from India very disappointed. His work, he felt, had accomplished so little in the five years he had labored there. He began to assess his life and the future that lay before him. In the midst of this he received a letter from India which said: "When you left us, it seemed as though the flags were lowered, and the music stopped." It goes without saying that the young missionary, E. Stanley Jones, returned to India and provided thirty years of fruitful service to Christ and the people of that needy nation. We cannot measure influence. We can weigh sugar but we cannot measure sweetness. We can register heat, but the beam of light that creates it can fall upon the most delicate scale and not move it at all. So with our influence, it cannot be measured, but its impact on others could change a life, and, in some extraordinary cases, may change the world!
A certain Miss Murphy taught third grade in a parochial school in Massachusetts. She had taught her class the Psalm 23 and asked them to recite it for her. As the little voices chorused out the words, she detected a false sound. She heard the children one by one to find out what and where the trouble was. She found it when little Jack, concluded the Psalm by saying, "Surely good Miss Murphy will follow me all the days of my life." The correct rendering is, of course, "goodness and mercy shall follow me." But was he wrong? Perhaps Good Miss Murphy did follow Jack (John F. Kennedy) all the days of his life! "I may do anything I please, but not everything is helpful to others." The awesome power of influence!
Saint Paul moves on to share his second solution to his problem of freedom: "I may do anything I please, but I am not going to let anything master me." The principle involved is simply this: the Christian recognizes that his freedom must be restricted for the sake of his own personal well being. When Paul writes, "I am not going to let anything master me," he is reminding each of us that too much freedom -- or freedom wrongly exercised -- is a boomerang. It turns on the indulgent person and enslaves him. Freedom without limits leads to the loss of freedom. In Upton Sinclair's words: "The oldest form of slavery is self-indulgence."
A soldier, having returned from Vietnam, asked to speak with his pastor. During the visit there were guilt feelings that needed to be talked out and laid at the feet of the forgiving Christ. There were patterns of conduct, formed during the war, that only God could reshape into a worthy design for living. At one point in the conversation the young man described the immoral indulgences which he and other servicemen practiced when they came to certain cities where they found easy access to loose women. It was with no air of bravado or "macho-ism" but rather with a sense of shame and disgust that the young man confessed: "We took what we wanted until we didn't want what we took." Free? Oh, yes, they were frightfully free. Free to make a joke out of the moral law! But it was not long until that moral law turned on them and mastered them with self-loathing, frustration, and guilt. How eternally right was Jesus: "Verily, Verily, I tell you, everyone who continues to commit sin becomes the slave of sin" (John 8:34).
So the Spirit of God is saying to each of us, through the pen of Saint Paul: be aware of the limits to your freedom. Be self-regarding enough to watch your own spiritual health. No license that will ultimately enslave you is worthy of the name freedom. Be certain of this; it is true.
My final word can be spoken briefly. Freedom! Yes, freedom within Christ-honoring limits! We've looked at the problem of freedom. We've considered Christ-like principles that limit our freedom. In closing, let's ponder the price of our freedom. Here it is in verses 19 and 20 of our chapter: "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, which you have from God, and that you are not your own? For you were bought with a price; therefore glorify God in your body."
There are two prices, as a matter of fact. One has been paid and need never be paid again: "You were bought with a price." Jesus Christ, by his self-giving for us and by bearing the cost of our redemption from sin at Calvary's cross, has won the right to possess us for himself and his kingdom forever. The cross has put a mark upon every one of us. That mark declares: "You belong to God." You may not admit it. You may resist the thought. But you cannot alter the fact: you belong to God!
You perhaps remember the story of the twice-owned boat? A lad fashioned a crude sailboat out of scraps of lumber his dad had left on his worktable. Attaching fishline to his boat, he took it to a nearby lake and, holding the line, pushed the boat from the shore. It sailed beautifully, but somehow the line was severed and the boat sailed out on the lake beyond the boy's sight. He was heartbroken. Some days later he discovered his little boat in the window of a local pawnshop. Entering he learned that he would have to pay a certain price to regain the cherished boat. He raised the money, purchased the boat, and held it close to his heart as he walked home. Adoringly he patted the boat and said: "Little boat, I love you. I love you because you have been mine twice. First, because I made you, and second, because I bought you."
In a similar manner God speaks to each of us saying, "I love you because you are mine twice. First because I made you and second because I bought you at the price of my own life, surrendered at the cross. You belong to me!" Yes, dear friend, we do.
The other price is the one we must pay. It can be seen negatively in the words, "You are not your own," and positively in the words, "Therefore glorify God in your body." It is the price of self-surrender. It is the price of recognizing that freedom is not an end in itself, but a means to an end. And the end is the human soul voluntarily yielding itself to the control of the infinitely loving Savior. It is the price of handing over our independence in order to find our true liberty in dependence upon the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Something like this must have been in George Matheson's mind when he wrote:
Make me a captive, Lord.
And then I shall be free;
Force me to render up my sword
And I shall conqueror be.
I sink in life's alarms
When by myself I stand;
Imprison me with thine arms,
And strong shall be my hand.
My will is not my own
Till thou has made it thine;
If it would reach a monarch's throne
It must its crown resign:
It only stands unbent
Amid the clashing strife,
When on thy bosom it has leant
And found in thee its life.
Permit me to alter our theme for today with a quiet prayer: "Lord, please fence me in with your love, for then I will be truly free!" This is the freedom that frees! Amen.
For a few moments let's consider the problems that exist at the very heart of our freedom -- or freedoms. How absolute are they?
It doesn't take long for us to discover that our political freedoms are much easier to shout about than they are to define or maintain. Take freedom of speech, for example. Is it absolute -- with no strings attached whatsoever? No! If it were, there would be no laws governing libel and slander. If it is not absolute, where does the government draw the line? Or, take the issue of freedom as it appears in connection with our personal living. An increasing number of Americans have espoused the notion that no one has the right to put any restraints on their liberties. "Don't fence me in" is their catchword. "It's my life, isn't it; if it feels good, I'll do it." Some time ago, a teacher, writing in one of our education magazines, spoke of the rejection of discipline, the vandalism and general disorderliness of the students in her large suburban high school. She quoted one of the seniors as saying, "This is a public school; I can do what I please in it." You say, "What that boy needs is a good whipping." Perhaps so, but don't be too sure about it. Long before he adopted such an idea, he needed the help and guidance of some older folks who knew the meaning of life. Instead of getting such help, he probably came under the influence of the sort of persons who write some of our modern novels and plays. The advice offered by one of these writers is: "Let a man give rein to his impulses as they come." It is that kind of heresy that has helped produce the moral anarchy we see about us so frequently. Dr. Paul Scherer somewhere remarked that one of the definitions of freedom in his dictionary was, "The state of being without physical -- or moral -- control." Scherer continued: "If that is what freedom is, we ought to get down on our knees right now and pray God fervently for someone to come along and take it away!" Precisely! We don't get far in this business of personal living before we discover that our liberties must have some controls set about them or life -- both for ourselves and others -- goes to pieces.
That's enough about problems, let's search out some inspired solutions. I believe we find them in our text for this morning. Listen as Saint Paul speaks: "I may do anything I please, but not everything I do is good for me." The New Revised Standard Version has this last clause read: "But not all things are beneficial." This puts us on the track of thought that I want to suggest. The Greek word translated "beneficial" means "fitting, profitable, appropriate, helpful." This points us to the first solution to the problem of our freedom, the Christian understanding of how our faith controls -- and enriches -- our freedom. When we arrive at decisions, we travel a route that makes us consider the result of that action not only on ourselves but also on others who journey with us. Few of us ever discover how very much our personal influence impacts the lives of those among whom we spend our moments.
A young missionary returned from India very disappointed. His work, he felt, had accomplished so little in the five years he had labored there. He began to assess his life and the future that lay before him. In the midst of this he received a letter from India which said: "When you left us, it seemed as though the flags were lowered, and the music stopped." It goes without saying that the young missionary, E. Stanley Jones, returned to India and provided thirty years of fruitful service to Christ and the people of that needy nation. We cannot measure influence. We can weigh sugar but we cannot measure sweetness. We can register heat, but the beam of light that creates it can fall upon the most delicate scale and not move it at all. So with our influence, it cannot be measured, but its impact on others could change a life, and, in some extraordinary cases, may change the world!
A certain Miss Murphy taught third grade in a parochial school in Massachusetts. She had taught her class the Psalm 23 and asked them to recite it for her. As the little voices chorused out the words, she detected a false sound. She heard the children one by one to find out what and where the trouble was. She found it when little Jack, concluded the Psalm by saying, "Surely good Miss Murphy will follow me all the days of my life." The correct rendering is, of course, "goodness and mercy shall follow me." But was he wrong? Perhaps Good Miss Murphy did follow Jack (John F. Kennedy) all the days of his life! "I may do anything I please, but not everything is helpful to others." The awesome power of influence!
Saint Paul moves on to share his second solution to his problem of freedom: "I may do anything I please, but I am not going to let anything master me." The principle involved is simply this: the Christian recognizes that his freedom must be restricted for the sake of his own personal well being. When Paul writes, "I am not going to let anything master me," he is reminding each of us that too much freedom -- or freedom wrongly exercised -- is a boomerang. It turns on the indulgent person and enslaves him. Freedom without limits leads to the loss of freedom. In Upton Sinclair's words: "The oldest form of slavery is self-indulgence."
A soldier, having returned from Vietnam, asked to speak with his pastor. During the visit there were guilt feelings that needed to be talked out and laid at the feet of the forgiving Christ. There were patterns of conduct, formed during the war, that only God could reshape into a worthy design for living. At one point in the conversation the young man described the immoral indulgences which he and other servicemen practiced when they came to certain cities where they found easy access to loose women. It was with no air of bravado or "macho-ism" but rather with a sense of shame and disgust that the young man confessed: "We took what we wanted until we didn't want what we took." Free? Oh, yes, they were frightfully free. Free to make a joke out of the moral law! But it was not long until that moral law turned on them and mastered them with self-loathing, frustration, and guilt. How eternally right was Jesus: "Verily, Verily, I tell you, everyone who continues to commit sin becomes the slave of sin" (John 8:34).
So the Spirit of God is saying to each of us, through the pen of Saint Paul: be aware of the limits to your freedom. Be self-regarding enough to watch your own spiritual health. No license that will ultimately enslave you is worthy of the name freedom. Be certain of this; it is true.
My final word can be spoken briefly. Freedom! Yes, freedom within Christ-honoring limits! We've looked at the problem of freedom. We've considered Christ-like principles that limit our freedom. In closing, let's ponder the price of our freedom. Here it is in verses 19 and 20 of our chapter: "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, which you have from God, and that you are not your own? For you were bought with a price; therefore glorify God in your body."
There are two prices, as a matter of fact. One has been paid and need never be paid again: "You were bought with a price." Jesus Christ, by his self-giving for us and by bearing the cost of our redemption from sin at Calvary's cross, has won the right to possess us for himself and his kingdom forever. The cross has put a mark upon every one of us. That mark declares: "You belong to God." You may not admit it. You may resist the thought. But you cannot alter the fact: you belong to God!
You perhaps remember the story of the twice-owned boat? A lad fashioned a crude sailboat out of scraps of lumber his dad had left on his worktable. Attaching fishline to his boat, he took it to a nearby lake and, holding the line, pushed the boat from the shore. It sailed beautifully, but somehow the line was severed and the boat sailed out on the lake beyond the boy's sight. He was heartbroken. Some days later he discovered his little boat in the window of a local pawnshop. Entering he learned that he would have to pay a certain price to regain the cherished boat. He raised the money, purchased the boat, and held it close to his heart as he walked home. Adoringly he patted the boat and said: "Little boat, I love you. I love you because you have been mine twice. First, because I made you, and second, because I bought you."
In a similar manner God speaks to each of us saying, "I love you because you are mine twice. First because I made you and second because I bought you at the price of my own life, surrendered at the cross. You belong to me!" Yes, dear friend, we do.
The other price is the one we must pay. It can be seen negatively in the words, "You are not your own," and positively in the words, "Therefore glorify God in your body." It is the price of self-surrender. It is the price of recognizing that freedom is not an end in itself, but a means to an end. And the end is the human soul voluntarily yielding itself to the control of the infinitely loving Savior. It is the price of handing over our independence in order to find our true liberty in dependence upon the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Something like this must have been in George Matheson's mind when he wrote:
Make me a captive, Lord.
And then I shall be free;
Force me to render up my sword
And I shall conqueror be.
I sink in life's alarms
When by myself I stand;
Imprison me with thine arms,
And strong shall be my hand.
My will is not my own
Till thou has made it thine;
If it would reach a monarch's throne
It must its crown resign:
It only stands unbent
Amid the clashing strife,
When on thy bosom it has leant
And found in thee its life.
Permit me to alter our theme for today with a quiet prayer: "Lord, please fence me in with your love, for then I will be truly free!" This is the freedom that frees! Amen.
