There’s no such thing as absolute freedom. Bob
Dylan was right “You’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed/You’re gonna
have to serve somebody/Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord/But
you’re gonna have to serve somebody.” 
We’re always serving something or someone.  It might be pleasure or power or money. It
might be the agenda of our political party, or the glories of our alma mater or
the reputation of our family, club, group, or class.  It might be to the status quo, which we serve
by never speaking-up or standing-out or asking questions.  It might be our fragile egos, which we serve
by polishing our image, making an impression, and stage-managing our children
to act-out the scripts we never had the courage to play.
It could be devotion to the way of love for
God and neighbor. It could be a commitment to extending God’s justice and
peace, grace and mercy, God’s presence and joy to everyone.  It could be a resolve to live like Jesus.  Loving God and neighbor, working for God’s
will and way, and becoming like Jesus—these phrases describe a way  of
serving which results in our experiencing the  vibrant, abundant, and radiant lives God wants
us to have. 
In his novel The Second Coming, Walker Percy has Will Barrett contemplate a lazy
cat and reflect on his own life. “All at once he realized where he had gone
wrong; there was this cat sitting in the sun, one hundred percent cat, and as
for himself, Will had never been one hundred percent anything in his whole
A cat, which is one hundred percent cat, is
free.  A squirrel, scampering across the
ground and scurrying up and down trees, is free.  A soaring and singing bird is free.  When Michael Phelps or Ryan Lochte jumps in
the swimming pool, when Hope Solo takes to the soccer field, and  when Kobe Bryant drives to the basket, they
are in touch with the freedom which comes from  doing what they were made and have trained to
When Doc Watson let songs of loss and longing flow
from his heart through his guitar and voice, when John Coltrane’s gratitude
welled-up from his soul and moved like a river through his saxophone, and when
Bach pressed his hands and feet to the keys and pedals of the organ and set loose
a barrage of joyful praise, they gave us the sounds of freedom which they were
uniquely graced to hear. 
All of us, when we commit ourselves as completely
as we can to the will and way of God made known in the history of Israel and in
the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, catch sight, hear whispers and feel
stirrings of what it is like to be one hundred percent ourselves. The greatest
freedom comes from a full and glad yielding to God.