With my own eyes, I have seen your salvation.[1]
Simeon held the newborn baby and saw salvation. Inspired, he glorified the Author of peace and light. Then, on behalf of all who’d been holding their breath in anticipation, Anna caroled rescue. Freedom was the song they were singing.
Freedom was the song Paul was singing a few years later when he penned these words, “But she will be saved through childbearing.”[2] She has been, is saved. The Child was born. He’s the One Simeon held and Anna proclaimed. For women and men, childless and full, the song of freedom rings.
Two thousand years later and freedom is the song my students and colleagues need to hear. It’s the one we should be singing for them and for us.
It tells the story of Birth, of an enemy—and a curse—crushed. Into the dust. Never to rise again. It tells the story of freedom.
Birth breathes freedom into our relationships.
No more blame game, misplaced loyalties, or unfulfilled desires. No more using up, putting down, or throwing away. No more lording over or swallowing up.
Instead, harmony is restored. One with the Child as He is with His Father, we’re free to become one with each other. Communion. Fellowship. Partnership.
Birth breathes freedom into our work.
We’re dressed in jars of clay,[3] but we’re not empty pots. We’re freely blessed. Rather than squandering our freedom on self, we spend it on behalf of our students and colleagues. We’re freely blessed to be a blessing.
Then, no matter how backbreaking the work, the enemy is crushed, and we are not. We can shrug off the struggles knowing we’ll “shout hurrahs at the harvest.”[4]
Birth breathes freedom into our righteousness.
The Law has been fulfilled, all the i’s dotted and t’s crossed. We’re free to follow its underlying principles without fear of missing a dot or line added on someone’s interpretative whim. Instead, we embrace holiness that comes from soul and Spirit. We revel in righteousness that far exceeds “religious.”[5]
We are free, and so we sing the song of freedom to our students, colleagues, and friends.
It’s not a song that burdens but one that calls them out of their prison cells into lightness and Light. Out of the lies of self and pride into the truth of forgiveness. Out of fear into liberating mercy.
The tune is not one that wearies but one that leads them on a merry escape from the rat race. Although strenuous, the run goes from breathless to breathtaking with eyes fixed on the Prize.
The lyrics do not hold them back but propel them forward. The words tell how old identities–ones they’ve brought on themselves or society has forced them into–are shed like an ugly snakeskin. How a new identity releases them from human limitations and expectations. How with their blessings they are free to bless.
No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found,
Far as the curse is found,
Far as, far as the curse is found.[6]
[1] Luke 2:30, New Century Version.
[2] 1 Timothy 2:15, New International Version.
[3]2 Corinthians 4:7-18.
[4] Psalm 126:4-6, The Message.
[5]Matthew 5:17-20.
[6]from “Joy to the World” by Isaac Watts.
Photo Credit: Christ Against Pornography via Compfight cc
This piece is beautifully written, Melissa! Your message gets at the heart of the real message that we should be sharing with those around us. Thanks for allowing the Spirit to speak through you!
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Thank you, Cheryl. May it sing freedom to and through readers.
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