Galatians 3:28-29 – The Unifying Gospel
Audio will be available here.
It is amazing the Gospel hopes that come out of New York City.
This past Monday, Lady Gaga (the NYC native pop singer-songwriter) released the video to her recent single “Born This Way.” The video begins with an extended narration, spoken over a somewhat bizarre birth scene.
It begins, “This is the Manifesto of Mother Monster.” (Mother Monster is Lady Gaga’s name for herself. Her fans are her “Little Monsters.”) The manifesto continues by telling of a birth, not finite but infinite, something “eternal.” And this “infinite” and “eternal” birth “began the beginning of the new race. A race within the race of humanity. A race which bears no prejudice, no judgment, but boundless freedom.”
Now, much more could be said about Lady Gaga and her song, “Born This Way.” But what is interesting is that what she (and her fans) are longing for and working for is a new way to be human, a new race. She realizes that humanity needs to be “born again.” And, this “regeneration” must come from something “eternal” and “infinite.”
Thirty years ago in 1971, New York City resident John Lennon released his album “Imagine,” the title track of which encourages the listener:
Imagine no possessions / I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger / A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people / Sharing all the world
Lennon is longing for and looking for a world where man lives, no longer in opposition and hatred, but as one big family, sharing all the world, living life in peace.
You may say he’s a dreamer, but he’s not the only one. In fact, that dream has been at the center of New York City for over a century. The Big Apple is, as a city, a small picture of what America is supposed to be—a melting pot of people from all walks of life, from all ethnicities, living together.
In her waters stands a great statue, the title of which is “Liberty Enlightens the World.” The robed, female figure represents Libertas, the Roman goddess of freedom. With glory as a halo around her head, she stands and proclaims good news to the world. In her right hand, she bears a torch offering herself as a light to the nations. In her left arm is the tablet of her law, inscribed with the date she declared her freedom. Inscribed in her base is her gospel-call:
"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
In other words, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
And to prove her promise, at her feet lies a broken chain, conquered, limp and useless, like the body of a serpent whose head has been crushed.
There is a reason that millions of immigrants from across the globe passed through her shadow at Ellis Island. They came seeking what she promised—a place where oppression was ended, where freedom was given. They came to a place where they could be transferred from the dominion of their old country into citizenship in a land of promise, where they could have a new life, a new start, a new birth.