It was the Christmas gift for which she had been waiting for months. The wrapping paper and bow had barely been torn off the gift and the brand new bicycle revealed, than she wheeled it outside for a test ride. This was a new venture for the child, because, young as she was, she had never before ridden a bicycle.
Her enthusiasm could scarcely be restrained. All she really wanted to do was pedal as fast as she could, hunch over the handlebars, and fly into the wind, free as a bird. And yet, she knew this was not possible; at least not yet.
After wheeling the bicycle outside the house, the elated child watched as her parents put the training wheels on the bicycle. With this accomplished, she could now try out the pride and joy of this Christmas.
Her parents watched as she gently but eagerly climbed up onto the bicycle seat, placed her feet on the pedals, hands on the handlebars, and awkwardly began to inch forward. Thankfully, with the support of the extra wheels, the child was unlikely to fall down, but her parents still watched nervously. They would cry, “Don’t get too close to the street!” And in spite of their mild anxiety in watching this new adventure play out, they couldn’t help but rejoice with the contagious happiness of their child.
As the months went by, their daughter became more and more comfortable with maneuvering her new toy. And before too long, it was time for the training wheels to come off and for the real test to happen. Once again, the parents ventured outside with their enthusiastic child and watched as she mounted the bicycle and began to pedal. The first attempt was what they feared. A few wobbly movements forward, and the bicycle came crashing to the ground.
But skinned knee and all, the determined child climbed onto the bicycle again and again, each time, making a bit more progress towards stability. And soon, it was as if she had always been riding without support.
As the months went by, her parents became more relaxed. They realized, at heart, no matter how much anxiety they might have, that they couldn’t strangle the freedom of their daughter forever. They were, of course, torn between seeking the safety of their child and allowing her to be happy, basking in the freedom of doing things on her own.
And so, baby step after baby step, their daughter moved towards independence. First, she could ride down the full length of their neighborhood street, supervised by her parents. Then, they mustered the courage to allow her to ride up and down the street unattended. These expeditions were followed by journeys to school with other companions, and then a bit farther afield to the houses of friends.
The parents soon realized that, while their worry and anxiety might never cease, their daughter was growing up, and they could not hold on to her forever. Their love for her was not rooted in control or smothering protection but in giving her the gift of freedom, the freedom to be a child living and playing in the world.
This freedom undoubtedly comes with risks. There is no freedom that does not carry with it the possibility of danger, whether to self or to others. There is no true freedom that is characterized by total self-isolation. And yet one who is not really free is somehow deprived of a fundamental part of being human.
The slave is not granted the dignity of making choices. This is why to be enslaved or utterly subject to another is to be relegated to a status that is inhuman. This is why it is evil. And the one who cannot grant freedom to another human being is one who is lacking in love. Because true love accepts the risks and the dangers of real freedom.
It is profoundly sad that people of faith often do not fully understand the gift of freedom they have been given. Some fear God, but as nothing more than one who grants access to heaven or eternal punishment in hell. God is simply a remote guardian who doles out rules and boundaries that do little more than restrain freedom. God is seen as so jealous for control that perpetual anger and wrath are necessary responses to such ontological insecurity.
In the minds of others, with God, anything goes, lest his heart of love be betrayed and he interfere in the private lives of any of his subjects. In this view, God condones all manner of behavior because any judgment or censure would be offensive to the truly free individual.
But St. Paul suggests a radically different understanding of God. And I wonder, is God so often rejected because many people cannot possibly imagine that they would be deserving of God’s glorious gift of freedom?
As Paul tells us, God’s reign and lordship are not exercised to enslave us but to free us and to place us in relationship with himself as his own children. Such a God, whose very nature is free, can do nothing other than love us by setting us free.
Here is a God who is not afraid to enter the depths of the human condition and risk the sorrow that comes with rejection by his own children. Here is a God who does not function as the grand puppeteer and give us the illusion of freedom while yet grasping control of the strings of our lives.
Here is a God who enters fleshly existence as a child knowing full well that it will end in suffering and death. And, in spite of all this, this God does not avoid us or stay distanced from us but instead adopts us as children and commands us to call him Father.
It would not be real love if there were no risk involved. It would not be real love if there were no relationship involved. It would not be real love if fear prevented any intimacy.
But we have been so conditioned to misunderstand freedom. We live, supposedly, in a nation based on the core principles of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” but it’s hard to ignore the abuses foisted upon those words. Freedom has come to mean, in many cases, the lack of any boundaries, the ability to do anything without official interference, or complete libertinism without regard for the other. As such, we remain connected to no one. For others, the risk of allowing any freedom is too great a threat to control that the safer bet is to allow no freedom at all.
But our God commands that we call him Abba, Father. God is all too aware of the risk involved. God has seen his beloved children leap the boundaries of relationship, and yet time and again he has waited patiently and lovingly with outstretched arms because love is greater than control. God has, through the years, given us structure: laws and prophets to show us the way so that we are not wandering aimlessly. This God has entered into relationship with us, even to the very pangs of death, because to be remotely and safely ensconced on high would make him less than who he really is.
Even though we have been empowered to call God Father, it can still be difficult to comprehend the incredible degree of trust that God has placed in us. God has imbued us with freedom because God believes that we can use that freedom for the good of the world. God may have given us the bounds, but God will not force us to stay within them. God knows that if we are truly alive and free, we will be happy. And that is what God desires.
But when such happiness is misunderstood, a lesser happiness is chosen, wherein we appear to be free but are once again enslaved by our own obsessions, fantasies, and self-preoccupations. The risk, at times, seems too great to accept true freedom, because we might, from time to time, get hurt.
But God knows all this. God knows that we will constantly skin our knees and scrape our elbows if we are willing to take the risk of love. God understands that we will wander outside the bounds as we take advantage of our freedom. And although it pains the heart of God to see us get hurt, God lets us go. God knows that for us to be free and fully in relationship with him, he must let us pedal into the wind, even if we fall down a few times.
And there will be moments, when we need to bring the training wheels out again. When our boundaries have been obliterated and we forget from whom and whence we came, a little structure can bring us back to our roots.
This Christmas, as we celebrate the gift of Christ to us, we simultaneously rejoice in the gift of freedom. It is unlikely that many of us feel free at this time, either quarantined or staying safe in our homes, but God has allowed us to run fully into the wind, even if we occasionally get hurt through our own poor choices.
And God has sent his Spirit into our hearts, so that when we fall and are down, when we are feeling helpless and constrained, and when we do not know where we are headed, that same Spirit is praying in our hearts and urging us to turn our bicycle back around. And there waiting for us with open arms is God, who tells us to call him Father.
Sermon by Father Kyle Babin
The First Sunday after Christmas
December 27, 2020