Wednesday of the Fifth Week of Lent

The spy genre spoof, Get Smart, once depicted an international track and field competition. Our players wore “Free World” on their jerseys; the other players wore “Slave World.”

I think of that parody when I hear Jesus telling his opponents, “The truth will set you free” and they retort, “We have never been slaves to anyone!”

“Freedom” is one of those flags that everyone salutes, and everyone can salute, because the word means nothing. Men and women of all nations fight and kill and die in the cause of “freedom” without any clear conception of why they’re fighting. Both sides of every war, battle, quarrel or debate claim freedom for its cause.

When Jesus uses the word we should ask what he means by it. If it’s the freedom to own as much as possible and to buy whatever we can afford – including recreational drugs, firearms and abortion – some of us will decline the offer. That freedom is bondage in disguise; it is below our dignity and certainly not worthy of Jesus' sacrifice.

Jesus’ freedom begins with remaining in his word. It’s a place where he lives. When the first two disciples set out after him, they asked, “Where do you live?” and he answered, “Come and see.”

The Jews in John’s gospel and Pontius Pilate ask repeatedly, “Where do you live?” or “Where do you come from?”

His disciples sometimes ask, “Where are you going?”

Where is that freedom in which Jesus abides? We want to go there but we don’t know the way until Jesus tells Thomas, “I am the way!”

So we set out to follow him with those first disciples.

Along the road we cannot help but notice we’re heading toward Jerusalem – and Calvary.

And crucifixion.

And -- freedom?

His freedom isn’t like shop till you drop.

In today’s gospel he says, “A son always remains free.” Even on the cross Jesus is the freest, happiest man alive. When he said, “It is finished!” he expressed a perfect and profound satisfaction in his lifestyle.

Jesus challenges every facile notion we have of freedom.

Someone in a noisy restaurant asked why I wore a small cross on my lapel and what it means to me. But I soon understood that he was more interested in argument than enlightenment. His God would have to obey his notions of rationality. So I invited him instead: “Come and see.”