This sermon was preached at Second Presbyterian Church on April 22, 2018
Read Acts 16:16-34
I grew up in the 1970s when Free to Be You and Me
— the book, the movie, the song — was released.
For those of you not raised (or raising children) at that time,
Free to Be You and Me was a children’s entertainment project
involving actors like Alan Alda, Carol Channing, Michael Jackson, Jack Cassidy, Diana Ross.
The opening scene of the ABC special starts with two infants,
puppets, arguing over which one is a boy and which one is a girl.
The boy baby points out that the girl is bald
and wants to be a firefighter when she grows up,
and so she clearly is a boy.
He is similarly convinced that he is a ‘she,’
because he has dainty baby feet and wants to be cocktail waitress.
The point of the program was to highlight gender biases
and advocate for an acceptance of one’s natural identity,
free of any heavy-handed cultural expectations.
The seventies were a time of societal change.
The Civil Rights Act had passed,
women were beginning to shatter the proverbial glass ceiling
(that invisible but solid barrier to top management and leadership).
This was a time when any personal attributes
that might keep someone from successfully pursuing their dreams
were starting to loosen their grip,
or at least that is what we wanted to believe.
In many ways, our current American climate
is demonstrating the cracks in those ambitions —
the many ways gender, race, and other characteristics
still put parameters on our lives.
Black Lives Matter, the Me-Too Movement,
teens leading rallies to demand gun control laws —
all these things are loudly exposing the ways in which our culture,
like most, limits the freedom of various populations in our country.
It’s nice to think that we’re a melting pot,
that the American dream is available to anyone willing to work for it.
But in reality, some people have a leg up on such pursuits
and others have obstacle after obstacle in their way.
This, of course, is nothing new.
Look at the scripture from Acts that we just read.
Here we have a slave girl being financially exploited
by her owners because of her fortune-telling ability.
We have a couple of men,
presumably white men or the equivalent thereof in our time and culture,
Roman citizens, being attacked for also being Jews
and thus not as pure-bred as the citizens of Philippi would like.
We even have a jailer,
a man trusted with keys to the local prison,
who nonetheless is locked up himself by expectations so heavy
that suicide seems preferable to having to admit he was unable
to uphold his professional responsibilities.
Is anyone, then or now, really free to be
all of who they are, in all their fullness?
It certainly doesn’t appear so.
And yet, that is only the view seen without looking through the lens
of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Towards the end of this wild combination of biblical stories
relaying themes of slavery, exploitation, accusation, anger, and natural disasters,
the jailer asks a very familiar question,
even though I often think it sounds strange to our ears —
what do I need to do to be saved?
Certainly, as Christians, we’ve heard this question many times before,
but what really does that mean?
Saved from what?
We know the answer,
the ‘Who it is’ that does the saving.
Hopefully, Jesus is a big part of why we gather here week after week.
But what is it he saves us from, and how does he do it?
Some of you may be scratching your head right now, thinking,
“Wait a minute, one of the pastors here at Second doesn’t know what it means to be saved?
Oh, dear God, save us now!”
But, I’m pretty certain there are at least a few souls here
who are quietly saying, “Amen, sister!
Thanks for asking the question I’ve been too afraid to ask my whole life.”
Anyone in those shoes would probably consider themselves a good solid Christian,
and yet might find themselves a little uncomfortable
if someone sidled up next to them
and asked if they’d been saved by Jesus Christ.
Obviously, you know the answer,
but if the person looks at you with that look
that demands a little explanation,
a little proof,
you’d likely prefer run for the hills
than get into a deep theological conversation.
Can I have an amen?
“What do I have to do to be saved?” asked the jailer.
In this particular story, the question doesn’t come across quite so obtuse.
The man is about to take his life,
so obviously he needs some saving.
In our vernacular, he might be asking,
“What do I need to do to survive this mess that I’m in?”
Now, that is a clear question,
and the answer seems not only clear and easy,
but very sensible as well.
“You aren’t going to save yourself from this mess.
Only Jesus can help you on this one.
Put your trust in him, and maybe you stand a chance.
An earthquake shook the foundations of your workplace,
allowing all your direct reports the opportunity to escape,
and you are paid the big bucks to secure the place.
Yes, you are in over your head on this one,
so you might want to pray to the One who can help you most —
you know, the guy who turns water into wine and raises dead people,
the one who inspired Paul and Silas to sing hymns in the dark jail at midnight
as if in a drunken serenade.
Yes, that man could probably help you,
and he’s the only one who really can.”
What do you need saving from?
What mess are you in?
Maybe one of your own making,
maybe one you cannot see how you could have possibly avoided.
Is it a health scare?
Relationship woes?
Work insecurity?
Maybe it’s not necessarily a mess,
but merely a scary unknown.
Are you graduating from high school and headed out into the world
in a new way for the first time?
Hopefully our high school seniors find this occasion largely exciting and even freeing,
but the shadow side likely exists also,
as it does for all of us,
no matter what big transition we might be facing.
It’s probably not advantageous to dwell on those worries,
but refusing to acknowledge them might invite them
to make long, dark shadows indeed.
If you’ve ever taken a stress inventory,
getting married or having a baby is right alongside
getting divorced or suffering the death of a loved one
on the stress scales.
Change — even if you consider it good change
and an invitation to experience more freedom,
a virtue almost everyone would stand hand-to-hand to support —
change and freedom create stress,
just like the harder stuff of life.
Reflecting back on Free to Be You and Me,
there’s plenty that we can do as individuals and a community.
We are called as co-creators with God on this journey called life.
Commencement addresses at graduations are notorious
for encouraging action, strengthening resolve, and
demonstrating that staying the course when the going gets tough is well worth it.
I ran across an ad the other day that said
“a diamond is a piece of coal that stuck to the job.”
In spite of such helpful, uplifting inspiration,
at the end of the day or the season,
when your world is shaking apart,
unraveling at the seams,
there is one saving force above all,
and his name is Jesus.
He isn’t some abstract, distant, etherial God —
the white-haired grandfather figure in the sky —
well, maybe he is — but even if he is,
he’s also a flesh and blood human being (or he was one),
a man who walked this life journey,
his personal one being no piece of cake,
just like yours and mine.
And, He took all this on by choice,
agreeing to limit his divinity within the confines of our human dimension.
He cried, he laughed, he loved.
Sometimes he was the life of the party;
at other times he put hermits to shame.
He gets you, inside and out.
And in those moments when you doubt, say the prayer,
“Help me overcome my unbelief,”
and then listen for the still small voice of his Holy Spirit,
the gift he left you,
so that you would never feel alone.
Yes, Jesus saves.
Believing in him will set you free.
Thanks be to God.
For a little inspiration, watch and listen to Pharrell Williams’ Freedom video. Then play it again and DANCE!!!!