Have you ever tried to have a bedtime debate with a toddler? They are exhausted, barely functioning, completely irrational…and somehow absolutely convinced that going to bed is some form of oppression. “When I grow up, I’m going to stay up as late as I want!” And while we’re at it, I’m going to eat all my Halloween candy in one night, never brush my teeth, and nobody is going to tell me what to do.

At some level, that was probably most of us. Somewhere really early, we picked up this idea that freedom means: I get to do what I want, when I want, and nobody gets to tell me no. Then we grew up. Now nobody makes us go to bed. We can eat what we want, spend what we want, watch what we want, and stay up scrolling as long as we want.

So…how’s all that freedom going for us?

Maybe getting to do whatever you want isn’t quite the same thing as actually being free. We love freedom. We sing about it. We celebrate it. We fight for it. We build entire identities around it. And most of us would probably say, Of course I’m free. But in John 8:31–59, Jesus challenges that assumption. The hardest person to set free may be the person who is absolutely convinced they already are.

Sin Sells Freedom, but Produces Prisoners

Jesus tells the people listening to Him, “Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” Their immediate response is essentially, Free? We aren’t slaves.

There is incredible irony in their answer. They are celebrating the Feast of Tabernacles, remembering how God delivered Israel from Egypt, while standing on land controlled by Rome. They are celebrating a feast that remembers deliverance while denying they ever needed deliverance.

But Jesus goes deeper than their history. “Everyone who sins is a slave to sin.” You can live in a free country and still be enslaved. You can have nobody telling you what to do and still be mastered by something you cannot seem to stop doing.

That is the deception of sin. Sin never introduces itself as slavery. It presents itself as freedom. It tells us, You deserve this. This will make you happy. This will make the pain go away. You can stop whenever you want. At first, it can feel like freedom. I get to choose. I get to decide. I get to follow what I desire. But what starts as a choice can end as chains.

Sin sells freedom, but produces prisoners.

Then Jesus shifts from slavery to family: “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.” A slave is always trying to prove his value. A son has a place in the family. A slave performs for acceptance; a son lives from acceptance.

Real freedom is not simply, “Nobody gets to tell me what to do.” Real freedom begins with knowing who I belong to.

Belonging Shapes Desire

Desire itself is not the enemy. God made us to desire love, belonging, significance, pleasure, security, rest, to be known, and to be wanted. But knowing we are sons and daughters changes the place those desires hold in our lives. Sonship does not kill desire. It puts desire back in its proper place.

Throughout this conversation, the people keep pointing to the family they claim. “Abraham is our father.” “God is our Father.” Jesus keeps pointing to the family resemblance. Then He says, “You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father’s desires.”

Jesus places two things right next to each other: who you belong to and what you desire. Belonging shapes desire.

Over time, what a family loves begins shaping what its children love. Spiritually, Jesus is saying something similar. If God is really our Father, then His heart should increasingly begin shaping ours. What He loves, we learn to love. What He calls good, we begin to see as good. What leads to His Kingdom flourishing, we begin to desire.

That is why freedom cannot simply mean getting permission to pursue whatever I happen to want. What if some of our desires are actually the very things we need to be freed from?

Some desires promise intimacy, satisfaction, or relief but leave us more empty, more dependent, and less free. That is the danger of desire. It can make surrender feel like loss and slavery feel like freedom.

Sometimes God says no to a desire not because He is trying to keep joy from us, but because He refuses to let us settle for something that can never carry the weight of our soul. We say freedom is worth fighting for, until the fight is against our own desires.

If I cannot tell a desire no, if I continually obey it, maybe I am not as free as I think I am.

If the Son Sets You Free

Eventually they ask Jesus, “Who do you think you are?” That is really the question underneath this entire conversation. Who are You to tell me I’m not free? Who are You to tell me something I want is not good for me? Who are You to tell me my desires cannot always be trusted?

Jesus answers with one of the most staggering statements in John’s Gospel: “Before Abraham was born, I AM.”

Not I was. I AM.

Jesus takes the name God revealed to Moses and applies it to Himself. He is claiming to be God. That claim would eventually get Him killed. He would be crucified and buried. And if the story ended there, you could dismiss Him.

But the story does not end there.

The One who said, “Before Abraham was born, I AM,” walked out of His grave. Jesus claimed to be God, and through His resurrection demonstrated His authority over the one thing none of us can conquer: death itself.

And that changes how we hear everything He says about freedom. Maybe the One who created pleasure knows the difference between what delights us and what destroys us. Maybe His boundaries are not keeping us from freedom. Maybe they are keeping us free.

God is not some distant ruler trying to restrict your life. He is a good Father inviting you to live like a son or daughter. Good fathers set boundaries because they can sometimes see farther down the road than their children can. Sometimes “no” is not restriction. It is rescue.

So here is a simple test of freedom: Is there anything in my life I can’t seem to say no to?

What do I keep going back to even though I know it is hurting me? What am I afraid to give up? What do I keep saying, “I could stop whenever I want,” but somehow I never do? Because if you cannot give it up, you do not own it. It owns you.

But underneath that question is another one: Do I trust the Father enough to believe His “no” is good? Can I live from the identity of a son or daughter and say, “My Father loves me. My Father knows me. My Father can see what I cannot see. And if He says this leads to life, I can trust Him.”

And whatever came to mind, do not hear Jesus saying, “Try harder. Get yourself together. Break your own chains and then maybe you can come home.” That is not the gospel.

Listen again to what Jesus says: “If the Son sets you free…”

The Son sets you free.

That is the good news.

You do not earn your way out of slavery. You do not clean yourself up enough to earn a place in the family. Sin makes slaves. Jesus makes sons and daughters.

If you have placed your faith in Jesus, you are not an orphan grabbing for scraps. You are a son. A daughter. Named. Known. Loved.

Free indeed.

Message recap adapted from the September 20, 2026, message by Minister Alex Ehly.

Message Notes

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