Archives For freedom

“To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood” (Revelation 1:5).

Be real: how can someone show you the most love?  Romance?  Probably not.  Give you want you want?  Again, the wise person will beg to differ.  Make a big deal about you?  Tempting, but no.  The answer is found in the next part of this verse.  He loves us by freeing us.  Freeing us is the way that he shows his love for us.  But this generates another question: what kind of freedom does he give us?  Does he let us do whatever we want?  Is that the kind of freedom he gives?  Or does he give us more rights? Or leave us alone to live our own lives?  Again, the answer to this question is found in the next part of the verse.  He has freed us from our sins.  True freedom is not found in more rights or downtime, but in being unchained from your sins.  To be truly free is no longer to have sin as your master.  Sin’s power over you is broken.  It no longer rules you and restrains you and ridicules you.  But, this generates yet another question: How are we given this kind of freedom?  The answer is found in the next part of the verse: by his blood.  We are freed by blood.  Just as our own blood gives us the freedom of life, so does the blood of Another give us freedom of life.  Jesus’ blood gives us his life.  It also gives us access to places we would have never been able to enter.  It’s our all-access pass, giving us the right to enter into Heaven, into the very same room as God.  We are turned into kings and priests, as the verse goes on to say, by his blood, for it “made us a kingdom, priests to his God and Father.”

So let me ask you, when have you felt the most loved?  Probably the moment you felt the most unlovable, when you deserved it the least.  During these moments, God loves you and has freed you from your sins by his blood.  Unlovable-ness is his stomping ground; that’s when and where he shows up.  Notice that “loves” is the present, ongoing tense, and “freed” is the past, completed tense.  It’s like finding a spring in the mountainside that has been formed thousands of years ago, but is still gushing with fresh water in the present for us to enjoy.

© Samuel Kee, 2012

ImageYou were captured by the King of Sin.  He held you in his POW camp, where you served as a slave.  You obeyed every command he gave and you had no rights of your own.  The King of Sin stripped you of your dignity and beat the hope out of you.  He was ruthless.

One day, another king learned of your slavery.  He was called the King of Heaven.  He knew what it would cost to free you from the King of Sin.  It seemed almost too much to bear, but the King of Heaven made up his mind.  He went home to his wife and son.  He played games with his son for hours, took him for ice cream, and read him a story before bed.  In bed, the man held his son in his arms for hours—until daybreak.

At daybreak, he took his son to the King of Sin.  The bloodthirsty king smiled with wretched delight.  He seized the boy and dragged him into the camp.  When the boy looked to his dad for help, his dad turned his face away.  The boy felt so alone, as he was led into the camp.  The King of Sin unlocked your chains and let you go.  You walked out, right past the boy, who was walking in, bravely.  The King of Sin took your chains and locked them around the boy.  The King of Heaven opened his arms wide and welcomed you home.  The King of Sin reached for some nails.  The King of Heaven reached for a ring.  A moment later, you heard a loud scream from inside the camp, as the King of Heaven plunged a ring around your finger.

The King of Heaven looks with delight at you; you look with delight at him.  You know what it cost to free you; and you weren’t about to disappoint him.  You walk home with him, hand-in-hand.  As you go, you pass another king, a most dreadful one, like the King of Sin.  He motions to you.  You look at his hand and see that he is holding another chain, beckoning for you to put it on.  You shudder with horror and grip the King of Heaven’s hand even tighter.  You say to him, “I will never leave you.”  He says back to you, “I will never let go of you.”  For once, you believe it.

That wasn’t the only chain offered to you.  Every day of your life, a new king held out his chain to you.  And every day of your life, you have to choose to stay close to your king.  Not only because of what it cost him to free you, but also because of the love he gives you.  All other kings rule by chains, but only yours rules with a ring.

© Samuel Kee, 2012

Love Slave

samuel kee —  February 2, 2012 — Leave a comment

If you accept God's grace, you do a dangerous thing.

I would rather serve you than be loved by you.  Here’s what I mean: service is cheap, but love is costly.  Service is controllable, but love is controlling.  I can go home after a day of service, but I can never be free from love.  It follows me, haunts me, and enslaves me.

Don’t believe me?  Then imagine two different scenarios.  In the first, I am your boss and you are my employee.  You work for me and I pay you.  If you work well, then I reward you accordingly.  If you need some time off, then I give you some time off.  When you’re at work, you work.  When you leave work, you leave work.  You can rest and not think about me.  In just 8 or 9 hours, you can fulfill all of your duties to me and I will be satisfied, and so will you.

Now imagine a second scenario.  You contract some horrible disease and the only way to be cured is through a certain type of human blood.  As it turns out, my son has just the right kind of blood that you need; and for you to have the right amount, his life must be terminated.  I look at you in love, and then decide to give the life of my son for you, so that you can live.  Though my son dies, you live.  How do you feel about our relationship, after such a costly display of love?

You have to live for the rest of your life, day by day, knowing how much I have loved you.  When you wake up, it’s because of me.  When you eat a meal, it’s because of me.  When you go to work, it’s because of me.  When you go on vacation, it’s because of me.  Everything you do is shrouded by the act of love that I performed on your behalf.  Without me and my love for you, you’d be nothing.

Service is fair; love enslaves.  Love demands everything.  True love shown to another enslaves the “victim.”  You no longer belong to yourself, but to the one whose love has freed you and given you new life.

God does not want our service, that is why he gave you his.  You cannot simply work for God as an employee, for he wants far more than 8 or 9 hours.  He wants everything.  That’s why he saves you by grace, through a gift of love, the death of his Son.  God put to death his Son beneath the legal record of charges written against you.  Jesus took your punishment; and now God wants to take you by his grace.

If you accept God’s grace, you do a dangerous thing.  It’s not cheap, by any means.  Not only did it cost God the life of his Son, but also it will cost you your freedom.  You’ll become a love slave, just like the apostle Paul, who identified himself like this:

Paul, a slave of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle (Romans 1:1).

Becoming a Christian sets you free from sin and its eternal consequences, but it does not set you free from God.  I think too often Christians think that being saved by grace means being saved from God.  That’s not it at all.  You are actually saved for God.

And for the rest of your life, you’ll live with the knowledge that the Creator of the cosmos has given everything in order to be with you and love you.

Of course, that’s not a bad thing; it’s a love thing.

© Samuel Kee, 2012

Allow yourself to be His beloved.

We have a choice of whether or not to let negativity reign in our lives.  This is not because we did something to stop it, but because God has done something to stop it.  God went to the cross, where he absorbed all the evil we have to offer.  He stopped it on the cross.  It goes no further.

Unless, of course, we allow it.

“Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal bodies, to make you obey its passions” (Romans 6:12).

Yes, yes, we know we’re weak and frail, being “mortal” as the writer Paul says.  But even our mortality, our weakness, has been made stronger than sin.  Even our mortality doesn’t have to obey the passions of sin, for the cross breaks its power.  So it is up to us: are we going to allow evil to reign in our lives?  It doesn’t have to, you know.  Unless, of course, you want it to.

We have a choice to make today.  Either we allow our self to be ruled by death and all his friends, or we allow ourselves to be God’s.  The next verse says,

“Present yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life” (Romans 6:13).

Give yourself to wickedness or give yourself to God.  The power is yours to choose.

Nothing is standing in your way.  God has made a way and the path is clear.  You’re going to have to allow yourself to be free.  As you writhe in the emotional pain of your life–the deep and real pain–there is an exit in view.  You must allow yourself to see it, to go for it, to be released.  You must allow yourself to be God’s, to be loved, to be his beloved.  You must allow yourself to be empowered, healed, beautified, and ravished with unconditional love.  You must allow yourself to refuse to hear the lies, to halt the feelings of rejection, to step off of the platform of inferiority.  You must allow God to pull you out of the pit, clean you up, and turn you into his precious bride, his courageous man.

There is nothing in heaven or on earth stopping you.

© Samuel Kee, 2012

Notice of Charges

samuel kee —  October 3, 2011 — Leave a comment

I’m trying to keep the videos as short as possible, which means that I don’t always get to say all that I want to say.  If I had more time, I would speak more personally about how each of us is trying to get a clean conscience.  It’s a never ending battle, as we try to escape from the guilt we feel, from the stuff we’ve done wrong.  This struggle to be free from guilt disguises itself in other ways in our life, too, in all of the ways we try to make ourselves “feel alive.”  We long for life and freedom, thinking that these come from the latest pleasure rather than from our Lord’s passion.  Anyhow, I hope you get a deeper sense for the true freedom that Jesus has given you because of the cross.

Tragedy at Masada

samuel kee —  September 5, 2011 — Leave a comment

At some point in our lives, we long to be delivered from Masada.

This past week I left this update on my Facebook page: There is no life apart from God.  Today I have a story to illustrate what I was thinking.  Have you heard of the ancient story of Masada?  Masada was a fortress in ancient Israel, during the time of the Romans.  I believe that it was built by Herod the Great, to serve as a safe place for him to flea.  Later, around 70 a.d., about 1,000 Jews fled to Masada to hide from the Romans.  Even though some of the Jews tried to revolt against the Romans, those that fled realized that they did not stand a chance.

So they managed to procure the palace of Masada, which was an ideal place for them to hide out, for years, if needed.  There was plenty of water and food storage, plenty of things to do at the palace, and, most important, it was virtually impenetrable.  It was built on a cliff and there were just two paths leading up to it; these paths were very steep and precarious, however, and crawling with snakes.

After a while, the Romans learned of the new colony of Jews living in Masada.  The Jews at Masada loved their new freedom from Roman rule; though the Romans were not so fond of the idea.  So 20,000 soldiers were sent to take back the 1,000 Jews living at Masada.

It was just as hard as they thought it would be.  After some unsuccessful attempts, the Romans had to re-group and re-plan.  Even with 20,000 soldiers, they still could not manage to scale the cliffs and break into the mighty fortress.  After some thinking, they went to work on building a long dirt road up the cliff to the palace.  It was a grueling process to build such a massive dirt highway; but, it was the only way to reach the rebels.

The dirt road to Masada took the Romans seven months to complete.  Seven months.  Can you imagine what it must have been like for those living in the fortress, having to look out your window every day for seven months and see the enemy slowly and relentlessly approaching?

Nonetheless, when the Romans finally made it up to the fortress, instead of being attacked by the Jews, who had seven months to plan, they were met by nothing but silence.  Nobody stirred in Masada—there was no war cry, no weapons, no counter attack, and no army.  The Romans entered the palace only to find 1,000 bodies.  All but a few of the Jews killed themselves, according to the Jewish historian Josephus.  Men, women, and children.  All were dead.

Their “leader,” Eleazar Ben Yair, had riled them up with a stirring and no doubt cultic speech, telling them that they’d be better off dead than have to be ruled byRome.  So they chose death rather than submission.

Ironically, because they loved their freedom so much, they chose the pathway of the least amount of freedom, death.  And I can’t even begin to describe the horrible ways in which they died on that plateau in Masada.

“There’s no life apart from God.”  Many of us equate God with the Romans and our freedom with Masada.  We don’t want to submit to God, to follow his rule in our lives.  We prefer the liberty we have in the palace on the rock.  We hate the thought of having to submit to God’s ways.

Ironically, not to choose God means to embrace Masada.  There is no life apart from God.  If he doesn’t rule us, then we have no hope of life, because God is life.  Here’s where my analogy breaks down, of course, for God is not like the Romans.  God does not have a cruel or unfair reign, like the Romans did.

His kingdom brings life to all of its citizens.  To run from his rule means to exit the kingdom of life.  God’s rule keeps you on the narrow pathway to life, the road to true freedom, and the portal into happiness.  By submitting to God, you are training your soul in the ways of life.  All of the other things we submit to actually lead to death; intuitively and/or experientially, we get that.

Some of us are in bondage to so many so-called freedom givers.  The more material possessions we have, for example, the more they “have” us.  The more sexual freedom we have, the more it keeps us in its chains.  The more power we have, the more it corrupts us.  There’s just no way out of the fortress.

Scripture contains the heart cry of someone like us who is dying for a Liberator.  “So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand.  For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members.  Wretched man that I am!  Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:21-24).

At some point in our lives, we long to be delivered fromMasada.

Our Liberator comes not to destroy us, but to give us life.  His dirt road was a crude Roman cross, where he himself was the bridge between heaven and hell.  He laid himself down so that we could walk free.

© Samuel Kee, 2011

Freedom

samuel kee —  June 15, 2011 — Leave a comment

There are no more debts to be paid.

Every criminal who was executed by crucifixion in Ancient Rome had a “notice of charges” posted on the cross above the head.  The notice of charges was handwritten by those overseeing the execution, giving a public report of why the criminal was being put to death.  It told you why the person was being executed and what debt he owed.  His execution was the method for paying the outstanding debt written above his head; the notice of charges was “paid in full” upon the last breath of the criminal.

Put like that, each person who has ever lived has a notice of charges, a handwritten statement of wrongs he or she has committed, hanging above his or her head.  Our notice of charges is our “Admit One” ticket to destruction.  It’s the debt we owe and eventually we’ll have to pay for it.

This means that now we’re as good as dead: the charges have been written out already, whether we realize it or not.  We each owe a debt to God, which must be paid in order to uphold goodness and justice.  My notice of charges includes all of the wrongs I have committed in the past and all the wrongs I will commit in the future.  It’s a long and painful record of wrongs, proof of my rebellion against God my King.  God is not dead; I am dead to God.

Now I can understand what is meant in Colossians 2:13-15:

13You were dead because of your sins and because your sinful nature was not yet cut away. Then God made you alive with Christ, for he forgave all our sins. 14He canceled the record of the charges against us and took it away by nailing it to the cross. 15In this way, he disarmedthe spiritual rulers and authorities. He shamed them publicly by his victory over them on the cross.

I was dead, but then God made me alive.  Notice first that only God can make us alive.  No matter how hard we try to “feel alive” by the things we do or consume, we will fail.  Only God can make us alive.  He does it by forgiving our sins, which have kept a stranglehold on our existence, squeezing the life right out of us.

He forgave our sins by cancelling the record of the charges against us!  In other words, he took away our notice of charges and gave it to someone else to pay for it.  On whose cross did it go?  God took away our notice of charges “by nailing it to the cross” of his Son Jesus.  My notice of charges was given to Jesus and he died beneath it, for it.

Jesus paid the debt that I owed.  He died for my crimes so that I could go free.  My debt is forever cancelled.  Forever.  Forever.

I owe nothing more; my debt is paid in full by Jesus.  I know this to be true because of the resurrection.  The resurrection is the reward of a sufficient sacrifice.  When God looked at his Son Jesus on the cross, it’s as if God asked himself, “Has all the debt of all the sinners of all time, been paid in full?  If so, then death can no longer hold Jesus in the grave.”  Death can only keep its grip so long as there’s debt still to be paid.  But if every last cent of every sinner’s debt has been paid, then death no longer has any power to keep Jesus in the grave.

That being the case, since Jesus had exhausted the power of death by exacting every debt, God said to his Son, “Rise!”  There are no more debts to pay; they are paid in full.  The resurrection is proof of our freedom just as the cross is proof of our forgiveness.

There is nothing left for us to do, but give our lives to Jesus and accept the payment that he has made for us.  The only debt that we owe is love for God and to experience lifelong love from God.

© Samuel Kee, 2011

What is the purpose of the law?

Nothing was as important as one’s interpretation of the law, so believed the religious leaders of Jesus’ day.  They had their interpretation of the law, relying mainly on tradition.  Tradition explicated the law best, so they thought.

Then Jesus arrived with his own illumination of the law, one that flew in the face of their beloved tradition.  Jesus never wanted to do away with the law, but to clarify it and, even more so, to complete it (Matthew 5:17).  His is the best explication of the law, not theirs.  Their teaching led to slavery, bondage, and ruin; but his led to freedom and life.

It’s crucial to understand what Jesus meant when he said, “do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.” (Matthew 5:17).  As I said, Jesus came to clarify and to complete.

The word “fulfill” means something like: to bring to its goal, keeping its purpose in mind.  It’s most helpful to use the analogy of a carriage and a car.  A carriage is a “vehicle” used long ago, having four wheels and usually pulled by horses.  If I were to ask, “What is the fulfillment of a carriage?” you could not answer my question without keeping the purpose of the carriage in mind.  The purpose of the carriage is to transport people (or goods) from one place to another.

Thus the fulfillment of the carriage is the car, for the purpose of the carriage and the car is the same: to transport people (or goods) from one place to another.  Even though the car is radically different than the horse-drawn carriage, it is its proper fulfillment.  The car brings the carriage to its goal, keeping its purpose in mind.

Jesus did not come to abolish the law, but to fulfill it.  Catching on?

The religious leaders’ explication of the law was not the car, but more of the carriage.  In fact, they just swapped out the horses and inserted humans.  By piling on extra laws via the accepted tradition, they forced people into the harness and expected human righteousness to pull the load of the law.  The human yoke became hard, not easy, and heavy, not light.

But humans, no matter how spiritually strong, cannot pull the load of the law.  This was not the proper fulfillment of the law.

So Jesus comes zooming up in his 425 hp Corvette and declares, “This is the fulfillment of the law!”  Jesus replaces the horses and humans with an engine.  He does not destroy the law, or the carriage, but he fulfills it.  The car is the proper fulfillment of the carriage.

Jesus’ illumination of the law makes us want to stand up and cheer; for he releases humans from the harness of the law.  Even better, he gives them cars, which are auto-mobiles.  These are carriages that drive themselves, because they are powered by an engine.  And the best news of all is that Jesus is the engine; his righteousness is the power that pulls the law.  That’s all the horsepower we’ll ever need.

Humans cannot pull the law by the power of their own righteousness: no matter how hard I try and no matter how well I behave, I will fall short.  The law only keeps me enslaved like and animal in a harness.  When Jesus fulfills the law, he gives us a car that is powered by the gospel, which is the righteousness of Christ given to us.

Jesus is the power that pulls the law for us.  Jesus did not come to destroy the law, but to bring it to its goal, all the while maintaining its purpose.  Again, what is the purpose of the carriage and car?  To transport us from one place to another.  What is the purpose of the law?  To transport us from one place to another: god-forsakenness to God-with-us.  Namely, the purpose of the law and the purpose of Jesus is the same, to get sinners back into a relationship with a holy God.

The religious leaders thought that humans could make that journey, but Jesus knew better: only he could.  That is why he came to fulfill the law with his own power, extended on our behalf, that we might be restored to our Heavenly Father.

No human can pull the weight of the law on his or her own.  It is utterly foolish for us to place that expectation on anyone.  Yet Christians are notorious for “putting the cart before the horse” so to speak.  We condemn non-Christians first, for their behavior, as if somehow they should have the ability that no one else has ever had: to pull the law.  We judge them for their cursing, sexuality, beliefs, and raw behavior.  We criticize their morals and get angry at their actions.

But if we truly believe what Jesus said in Matthew 5:17, we should realize that nobody can pull the law apart from Jesus.  Nobody can do what the law says without an Engine.  This means that rather than judging or getting angry, we need to introduce them to the Car, first.  We need to tell them about Jesus and how he fulfills the desires of our hearts and satisfies the demands of the law.  Once they come to know Jesus, he will come into their lives with his Corvette and begin to pull the law for them, just like he does with us.

Jesus is the engine that pulls us from slavery to freedom, from being lonely to having a Lord.  Jesus brings us back to God by pulling the law with his own righteousness.  Our job is to get into the car and let him drive us where we could never have gone on our own.

© Samuel Kee, 2011

God Transplant

samuel kee —  February 19, 2011 — 1 Comment

Every broken-hearted person can find hope within her life.

Sometimes I like to use my relationship with God as a means to some other end.  I think that my status as a child of God entitles me to something else.  My relationship with God is like a magical ticket that gives me access into new possibilities.  “Now that I am a child of God,” I reason, “I can get on to better things.”  We sincerely believe that God will give us a new experience of life, when actually we will probably be called to stay right where we’re at.

“Were you a slave when called?”[1]  The writer Paul begins a radical counter-claim.  He references a permanent and pathetic state of existence: slavery.  Surely when a slave becomes a child of God, he or she can expect God to rescue him or her out of this dismal situation?  Do not be concerned about it.[2]  Not even a slave can use God as a means to another end.  Christianity is not a means to another end, but an end in itself.  The power of Christianity is not in its ability to grant wishes, but to fulfill purposes, whatever condition you are facing, even slavery.  Paul says next:

Even if you can gain your freedom, make use of your present condition now more than ever.[3]  “Now more than ever” means that a person who is a Christian has an ability that he did not have before.  “Now” he has the ability not to escape his condition, but to redefine it.  We don’t find God outside of our slavery, but inside of it, in other words.  For whoever was called in the Lord as a slave is a freed person belonging to the Lord.[4]

God wants you to stay just how you are, even if you’re a slave.  In an unhappy marriage?[5]  Stay.  In a dead-end job?  Stay.  In poverty?  Stay.  In wealth?  Stay.  In sickness?  Stay.  In health?  Stay.  Single?  Stay.  Unhappy?  Stay.  Lonely?  Stay.  Stay just how you are.  Don’t pray that your Christianity would drive you away from your condition; rather, pray that your condition would drive you closer to your Christianity.

Paul says that even a slave can find his freedom within his condition.  There is an ocean of God waiting for you, not outside of your problem, but within it.  This radical idea changes everything, for if even a slave can experience the relentless freedom of a king, then every broken-hearted person can find hope within her life. 

You were bought with a price; do not become slaves of human masters.[6]  God paid for us with the price of his Son’s life.  And into the condition of slavery, God sends the broiling gift of life.  That which he bought us with becomes the source of our freedom, no matter our chains.  Thus, the cross enters into every existence like a scalpel, cutting away our chains.  No longer is the slave bound to a human master, the cross has cut him free.  No longer is the widow a slave to her loneliness, the cross has cut her free.  No longer is anyone bound to their condition, for the cross has set us free.  Human masters do not have the last word in our lives, even as they “rule” over us; this is the curious surgery of Christ. 

In whatever condition you were called, brothers and sisters, there remain with God.[7]  How does this surgery work?  It enacts a God-transplant.  God moves into the Christian’s condition, instead of causing a Christian to move out of his condition.  While in my condition, no matter how much I dread it, God moves breathlessly near.  Now I have an oasis within my desert, life within the sand, peace within the storm.  Now I can stay in my condition, because God is by my side and he will keep me going. 

The word “remain” means something like “live” in the original Greek language, from which this text was translated.  “There live with God,” in other words.  Before we knew Christ, we might have said, “I will surly die in this condition!”  But now, we will find our very life in that same condition.  Now I will live, because God is with me.

God is not a means to an end, but God is the end.  


[1] All italicized sentences are from 1 Corinthians 7:21-24; the first is verse 21.

[2] Also verse 21.

[3] 21.

[4] 22.

[5] Of course, I’m not referring to abusive situations or to situations where even Jesus would recommend divorce. 

[6] 23.

[7] 24.

© 2011 by Samuel Kee