The True Meaning of Freedom in Christ

Freedom is a sacred word in our culture almost untouchable in its assumed goodness. From political platforms to personal mantras, “freedom” is often understood as the right to do whatever we want, whenever we want, however we want. The fewer the restraints, the freer the soul. Or so we’re told.

But this version of freedom personal autonomy unbound has left many exhausted, anxious, and disillusioned. The promises of self-expression and self-definition have turned into pressure to perform, hustle, and curate our lives to perfection. And for many, it’s breaking them.

Enter the strange, liberating paradox of the gospel: real freedom comes through limits. That’s what Jesus meant when He said, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:31–32). Freedom, in Christ’s eyes, isn’t found in escaping boundaries it’s found in surrendering to the right ones.

A Freedom That Requires Boundaries

The apostle Paul put it plainly: “You are not your own, for you were bought with a price” (1 Corinthians 6:19–20). In other words, Christian freedom is not the freedom to belong only to ourselves, but the freedom to belong to Christ.

This may sound like a contradiction in modern ears. How can belonging to someone else be liberating? Isn’t that just spiritual servitude?

It depends on who we belong to.

Throughout history, the language of “you are not your own” has sadly been misused by those in power to manipulate and control. But the difference, as Christian author Alan Noble points out, is in the nature of the One we belong to. “God is the only being for whom his good and our good are never in conflict,” he says. That means surrendering to Him doesn’t erase our identity it fulfills it.

God’s commands are not burdens but blessings. They’re not arbitrary restrictions but loving guidance. In a world of false freedoms that leave us empty, God’s design offers a way that leads to life.

The Lie of Limitless Living

Noble saw this distortion of freedom vividly one day at the DMV, where a man angrily refused to fill out a form, proclaiming, “This is America. I can do what I want.” It was a small moment but telling. We’ve come to believe freedom means being free from any demand.

Yet historically, freedom wasn’t defined this way. For early Christians and for classical thinkers before them freedom meant the ability to pursue what is good, true, and beautiful. It wasn’t about breaking free from all bonds, but about forming character, cultivating virtue, and ordering one’s life around the highest aim.

Unrestrained freedom, in contrast, leads not to liberation but to bondage enslaving us to our own desires, ambitions, and cravings. We become imprisoned by what we think will set us free.

The gospel flips the script. In Christ, we are no longer slaves to sin but slaves to righteousness (Romans 6:18). And that kind of slavery is the most freeing thing in the world.

A Gospel for the Weary

This redefinition of freedom speaks directly into one of the greatest crises of our time: our mental and emotional exhaustion. Noble, a professor, has seen the toll on his students firsthand. They’re capable, driven, and digitally connected yet deeply anxious and weary.

Our society promises limitless choice and autonomy, but it delivers stress and alienation. We’re told to be our own brand, our own boss, our own savior. And it’s crushing us.

True freedom offers a different way.

It starts by acknowledging what we were never meant to carry. You don’t have to define your worth. You don’t have to build your identity from scratch. You don’t have to fix the world, or even fix yourself. You’re not your own and that’s good news.

You belong to a God who knows you, loves you, and holds you. You can lay down the weight.

Grace in the Form of Rest

What does this look like in practice?

It looks like grace grace for others, and grace for yourself. It looks like choosing rest over hustle, prayer over productivity, presence over performance.

“What if the church were known as a place where people rest?” Noble asks. That’s a radical idea in our age of burnout. But it’s also deeply biblical.

Sabbath wasn’t an optional suggestion; it was God’s gift to a weary people. Rest was woven into creation, not as a pause from purpose, but as part of it.

True rest is an act of resistance against the lies of worth-through-work, identity-through-independence, and freedom-through-self-rule. It is a reminder that God is God, and we are not. And in that realization, we are set free.

A Countercultural Calling

None of this means retreating from the world’s problems. Christian freedom is not apathy. It means showing up differently.

It means seeking justice without assuming you’re the savior.
It means loving others without using them.
It means working hard without letting work define you.
It means speaking truth without needing control.
It means surrendering your plans without surrendering your hope.

In a world where autonomy reigns, the Christian lives as one who belongs fully, freely, joyfully to another. And in doing so, she becomes truly herself.

Real Freedom Has a Name

The world says, “You are your own.”
Christ says, “You are mine.”

The world says, “Define yourself.”
Christ says, “I’ve called you by name.”

The world says, “You must carry it all.”
Christ says, “Come to me, and I will give you rest.”

Freedom in Christ is not the liberty to do whatever you want. It’s the liberty to become what you were created to be.

So rest in that truth. Live in that grace. Belong to Him.

And if this truth speaks to you, share it with someone or subscribe to our newsletter for more reminders of the kind of freedom that really sets you free.