This is the sermon preached on October 27, 2024 by the Rev. Candasu Vernon Cubbage
You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.
Do we really want to be free? That depends on what you think it means to be free.
When Jesus had this conversation with some of his followers, they said:“We are proud to be descendants of Abraham. We are the chosen people, and we have never been slaves to anyone! What do you mean we will be made free? We are already free!”
Hmmm... they had never been slaves? They obviously didn’t know their own history—or maybe they had forgotten when they were slaves in Egypt.
Had they forgotten how much they were oppressed by the Egyptians—how the Egyptians made their lives bitter with harsh labor in brick and mortar, and with all kinds of work in the fields?
Had they forgotten Moses demanding that Pharaoh “Let my people go”? How could they have forgotten this when they celebrate Passover every year and thank God for bringing them out of the land of Egypt?
But Jesus didn’t repeat their history of slavery to them. Instead, he answered:“I tell you what, everyone who commits sin is a slave to that sin. A slave does not have a permanent place in the house, but a son always has a place there. So if the Son makes you free, you will indeed be free.”
Once again, we are living in a time when people often do not know their own history.
Many of us—and the people around us—do not know who our ancestors were, what our ancestors did, or what they believed.
In fact, some of us do not really understand what it actually means to be a follower of Jesus Christ.
Jesus says to those who believe in him:“If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.”
We often think freedom is about who has authority over us—about who can tell us what we must do, what we must think, and what we must be. But Jesus said that being free is actually about becoming a disciple and abiding in his word.
To abide means to know who Jesus is, what Jesus said, and what Jesus did. When we abide in the word of Jesus, we are doing our best not only to know what Jesus said and did, but also to live as Jesus lived.
When we make the effort to live like Jesus, following his teachings and actions, then we will know the truth. And it is the truth that will make us free—regardless of who has power over us, or thinks they have power over us.
We are free to be who we really are.
We are free to connect with others.
We are free to take action.
We are free to make mistakes—and we will make mistakes.
We are free to mend our actions and our relationships.
We are free to renew.
We are free to restore.
We are free to revive.
We are free to reform.
This is what the Reformation is about. We are free to make changes that improve our lives, improve the lives of others, improve relationships, improve the church, and improve the world.
We usually think of the Reformation as beginning on October 31, 1517, in Wittenberg, Germany, when Martin Luther, a teacher and monk, published his Ninety-Five Theses.
But the truth is that reformation has been happening since the world began.
When God formed the world, he looked at it and said, “It is good.” But once people got involved, it didn’t take long for things to come between them and God. That is what sin is—allowing something to come between us and God.
Once sin had separated us from our relationship with God, our relationships with others also needed to be restored, revived, and reformed to be closer to what God intended when he created the earth and all that is in it.
In the Presbyterian Church, we believe in reformation. We believe that we—the church and the world—are “reformed and always being reformed according to the Word of God.”
We believe that reformation—the reforming, renewing, reviving, and restoring of ourselves and our relationships—has been happening and will continue to happen in agreement with the Word of God: the truth that sets us free.
Part of the truth is that God created this world, and although God declared that it was good, not everything in the world is good now. There are many bad things in the world, and we encounter them, in one form or another, every day.
It is easy to be consumed by the fear, anxiety, pain, and hatred around us. It is easy to feel hopeless and want to give up.
But life goes on—even in the face of uncertainty, destruction, and death. And we go on living in good times, bad times, and in-between times. We go on living by renewing, restoring, and reforming.
About a year ago, I asked for prayers for a young woman named Vanessa, whom I’ve known for almost twenty years. She had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer. The doctors said she had about two months to live.
It was devastating for her, her husband, their three small children, her family, and her friends. But in the midst of this devastation, she decided to live every day she had left to the fullest extent possible.
Here we are, a year later, and she is still living. She still has cancer, and it is still considered terminal. Some days she feels sick and weak. But some days she dances, paints, bakes cookies, and snuggles with her children.
One day she will die. In the meantime, she is determined to live every day set free by the truth of the Word of God. Each day, she learns more about who she is as a beloved child of God.
I want to share something Vanessa wrote in her blog, The Dance, about the life, love, and growth that surround her—and us—in the midst of the death, turmoil, and destruction we face in this world.
These are Vanessa’s words:
There was life before being a cancer patient, and there is life now.I know many of the thousands of people [who were in the path of the recent hurricanes] will, from this point forward, categorize things as “before Helene” and “after Helene.”Tragedy does this. Previously unimaginable experiences alter us—forever.In this way, I relate. In this way, I connect, feeling the collective grief of being human, with so much that is out of our control and that brings pain.And... I dare to let grief be a portal into deeper authenticity. Deeper aliveness. I look at the photos and videos shared with me by friends and posted on social media, and I let my heart shatter—even as I feel adrenaline pulsing through me, belief in transformation rising from my spirit.This belief is more like a knowing—a knowing given to me from a force outside of me, yet closer than my very skin.A knowing that I open to receive—and, in so doing, position myself to see the power we possess as humans to undergo incredible metamorphosis.I will emphasize that I do not hold a theology that suggests there is a God so desperate to be glorified that he inflicts things like cancer or natural disasters on us in order to make something beautiful out of the horror. But I do believe everything in my life has been culminating toward where I find myself now: in this almost unbelievable position of witnessing the power—the freedom available to us—when we give ourselves to this dance between joy and suffering, life and death.The human experience is rarely either/or but almost always both/and.So, with that in mind, I acknowledge that while I’m not in the upheaval caused by Helene, I know what it’s like to be disoriented by crisis.We are allowed to be both heartbroken by monumental loss and to trust the importance of hope.Not in a toxically positive way, but with a commitment to see—really see. To risk hope, with rainbows representing hope. To believe in transformation, with butterflies representing rebirth. Here’s to peeling back the veil and growing our capacity to receive the ways Spirit invites us to know life—aliveness—in the here and now. And to accept that this aliveness so often comes through death, decay, and devastation.(P.S. We can both hate that this is true and find power in it.)
Here end the words of my friend Vanessa.
I’ll close by adding:
Here’s to remembering the truth—the truth that makes us free to renew, restore, revive, and always be reformed by the Word of God.
Amen.
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