The Bible can be complicated; it is 66 books but one story; it is part poetry, part narrative; part history; part prophecy. And in many cases it takes understanding metaphor to understand the text. After all, without metaphor, Jesus’s “I am” statements would be nonsensical. Without metaphor, what would we make of the Psalms and Proverbs?
Along those same lines is paradox, which Paul employs when explaining our relationship to Christ. A paradox is a statement that is seemingly contradictory or opposed to common sense and yet is true. And paradox lies at the heart of the Christian faith. We worship a Master who is a servant and who says weakness is a power. Furthermore, the gospel is only good if it has both good and bad.
1 Corinthians 7:22 puts it this way: “For the one who was a slave when called to faith in the Lord is the Lord’s freed person; similarly, the one who was free when called is Christ’s slave.”
Paradoxically, then, by enslaving ourselves to Christ, we become free.
Make no mistake, though: As it says in 1 Corinthians 6:19-20, we were bought at a price. But not with dirty man-made money; rather, with the blood of Christ.
John Murray, the late theologian, said this: “When the Master is the omnipotent Lord of the universe, slavery is a consummate privilege and a passionate delight.” So for the Christian, “slave” is a paradoxically honorific title because our master is the kind who cleans his apostles’ feet and then lays down his life for them. He is the kind who tells us if we are tired and burdened, that he will give us rest for our souls.
That said, the idea of being a slave to anything is difficult for some of us. And I’d imagine some of you are thinking, I’m no one’s slave. I do what I want. While I understand that sentiment, I’d offer you this:
That’s exactly what they said to Jesus.
In John 8:33, it says, “They (the Jews) answered him, ‘We are Abraham’s descendants and have never been slaves of anyone. How can you say that we shall be set free?’” The irony of a people whose history is rooted in bondage and slavery claiming they have never been enslaved should not be missed there. And you could argue that’s how we look when we say we aren’t a slave to anything or anyone.
But listen to Jesus’ answer: “Very truly I tell you, everyone who sins is a slave to sin. Now a slave has no permanent place in the family, but a son belongs to it forever. So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.”
The translation is this: We are all in chains.
Some chains are darker than others, and some hold a tighter grip than others. For example, pornography is not a hobby that can be managed. Because once your brain has seen an image, it’s wired to want a new one. And a new one, and a new one. Along those same lines, greed is not a leisure activity. Whatever you buy, no matter how awesome it is, will need replacing.
Denying your enslavement to those things--and the host of other things our culture gladly lures us in with--is simply trading one set of terrible chains for another.
Jesus, meanwhile, presents this amazing opportunity: You can trade those terrible chains for glorious ones. Chains that are not connected to darkness, to emptiness. No, these glorious chains are connected to the Servant-Master who is unchanging, unfading, and all-powerful.
Our master is a gracious God. Our master is the paradoxical Servant-King.
If you have made it this far, reader, be encouraged: You are “no longer a slave, but God’s child; and since you are his child, God has made you also an heir” (Galatians 4:7).