Independence Day

At one point in the movie Sophie’s Choice, Meryl Streep’s character says, “The truth? I don’t even know what is the truth anymore.” In the gospel assigned for Reformation Sunday, Jesus says, “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” What is the truth? Do we even know what it is anymore?

The truth of Jesus is what, earlier in John, the Pharisees and the eager stone-hurlers and their target, the woman caught screwing a fella she wasn’t married to, experienced first-hand.

The woman, of course, knew the bitter truth. Whatever concupiscence (where I come from in South Dakota we call it horniness) or brokenness got her into that situation, it was clear that her future held only death. There was no getting around it. It was her fault, her own fault, her own most grievous fault.

Jesus needed to bring no light to the woman’s guilt. The truth was clear. But what about the religious professionals and the morally upright preparing for her literal downfall? Jesus trained his judgment on them: “If there’s anyone of you who can step forward when the roll of sinless people is called, then I’ll put the stone in that person’s hand.”

Those folks couldn’t stand the light of this truth, but the adulterous woman remained there with Jesus. She not only knew the truth. She’d lived it and was about to die to it. Our Lord turned to her and gave her the freedom of his mercy: “Neither do I condemn you. Go your way and sin no more.”

Freedom without its opposite, bondage, has no meaning. The gospel of Jesus Christ always and only appears where the law and sin have done the enslaving deed. In John 8, Jesus’ followers said, “We ain’t never been slaves! We’re upright and free descendents of Abraham!” But the truth of the matter was standing in front of them.

The truth (and the way and the life) is Jesus himself. He who knew no sin and became sin, is a bright light shining on our shadowed unwillingness to accord him our trust. “Who was it that crucified thee? It was I, Lord. It was I.” For we are in bondage to sin, enslaved to ourselves, captivated by our endless possibilities. Jesus’ very being judges us as wanting.

Yet he offers more. His resurrection and the little resurrections of healings, castings out of demons and granting forgiveness are all of a piece: God’s own will to work your rescue in this one person’s flesh-and-bone life and death. Those unwilling to recognize and confess the truth of bondage will see and yet not see the resurrection, will hear and yet not hear the gospel. And they will not know the freedom promised here.

The truth? I know what is the truth evermore. You and I and the whole blamed bunch of humanity is dead in sin. All that’s left of your vaunted life is your final role as the target of stoning or whatever else lays you in your grave.

The truth? We confess with Luther as we approach Reformation Day, “I cannot, by my own understanding or effort, believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to him.” Yet the Holy Spirit calls, gathers, enlightens and sanctifies you, so that in your death you might see, know and live the dawning of something new.

When you trust that it comes in him, your freedom is caught up in Jesus. It’s a paradox: The more you are captivated and bound to him, the more free you become. The more free you become, the more bound up in and captivated by your neighbor you will be.

Reformation Day should have some meaning for more than a ragged bunch of Lutherans. It’s really Independence Day for sinners everywhere. You included.

(For a great image of Jesus with the adulterous woman go to http://www.heqiarts.com/gallery/gallery3/pages/7-WomanCaughtInAdultery.html.)