Juneteenth and My BSF Sister

Juneteenth is a national holiday now, and that’s pretty cool. Because I was travelling, I didn’t have occasion to be involved in any celebrations, but I can see myself wanting to do that in future years.

Particularly after a remark I heard while eating breakfast in the hotel on Monday. The local news station was talking about the local celebration the day before and included an excerpt from an interview with the woman in charge of the event. She gave a brief description of the origin of the holiday: it marks the day in 1865 that U.S. troops arrived in Galveston, Texas, and informed the slaves there about the passing of the Emancipation Proclamation, which freed them from slavery. But the remark that grabbed me was that the slaves had actually already been free for two years – it’s just that nobody had told them they were free.

They were free already. But they didn’t know it.

Can you imagine that moment? Finding out that you’ve been walking around carrying figurative chains that have no power over you anymore. It’s over. You are free! The best gift ever. The disbelief and then the relief and then the joy – it had to be overwhelming. 

Picturing that scenario in my mind made me think of a woman in my Bible study last year who broke my heart almost every week. She was going through a lot of difficulties, personally and in her family. But what really hurt my heart was the way she talked about her church. She said she would come home from services every Sunday feeling guilty. Afraid that she wasn’t doing enough. Afraid that she was out of God’s will in some way. Afraid that somewhere, somehow, she was getting it wrong and she had to fix it and get it right. You could hear it in her voice, see it in her demeanor, the fear in her spirit and the weight on her soul. The familiarity of it broke my heart. I so wanted to say to her . . .

Oh, my dear sister, hear me:

You are free.

Those chains you feel aren’t really there. The burden you’re carrying isn’t yours anymore. You met Jesus, remember? He paid the price for your freedom. It’s over. You’re free.

You’re going to fall once in a while . . . and you’re still free.

You’re going to choose wrong paths occasionally . . . and you’re still free.

You’re going to misunderstand scripture sometimes . . . and you’re still free.

That condemning voice you’re hearing – from the pulpit, or from your memories, or from your heart – it’s lying to you. And it’s not Jesus. Remember Jesus’ voice? Remember his words? Who the Son sets free is free indeed . . .

You want to do the right thing. He knows that. Do what you know to do; when you know better, do better. Love God and love his children. This isn’t a test you’re failing; it’s a gift you’re opening, a love you’re embracing. Remember that he loved you enough to die for you when you were at your worst. And you cannot make him love you less.

Stand tall. Embrace the life he’s given you; it’s a gift he’s aching for you to open. Walk like a free woman, sister – because that’s who you are.