In Galatians 5:1, we find that…

“It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery" (Galatians 5:1).

You’ve heard this verse a hundred times—in sermons, small groups, or scrolling through social media. You can quote it, nod along, and believe it’s true: Freedom is a gift, not a goal. So why does it still feel just out of reach—always waiting on the 'next step'?

If that sounds familiar, you’re not alone—and it might be time to rethink how we learn to live in the freedom Jesus gave.

There’s a long-standing debate, both in academia and the Church, about the value of speeches in how humans learn. Wherever you land, one thing is clear: public speaking is everywhere because it’s the easiest and most efficient way to share information. 

If the goal is to understand an idea or find inspiration, a speech can be effective. But if the goal is to move beyond thinking about an idea to actually living it out, speeches—even great ones—miss the mark.

​​This is where modern Christianity hits a roadblock. We see preaching throughout the Scriptures and assume that learning comes through hearing sermons. What we’ve missed is that sermons and preaching are not the same thing.

Egocentric myopia often blinds us to this distinction. When we’re used to something, we think it’s the only way—clinging to the familiar for a sense of security. But if we only view things through the lens of our own experience, we stunt our growth and limit our imagination.

To truly move forward, we need to look back and realize what’s familiar to us is just one tiny part of a much bigger story.

If the goal is to move beyond thinking about an idea to actually living it out, speeches—even great ones—miss the mark.

For instance, sermons, as we know them today, are a relatively new invention. The modern church service, centered on a one-way monologue from a stage, emerged from the revivalist movements of the 18th and 19th centuries. These movements laid the foundation for today’s familiar format. By the 1900s, sermons had become a polished craft and a “teaching pastor” became a full-time gig.

In contrast, preaching, as seen in Scripture, is a relational act of sharing the good news of who Jesus is for us all. As an example, Jesus only delivers a couple of sermons, but they consist of Him sitting on a rock like a Rabbi, bringing a few short talks to a small crowd. However, the Gospels show Him preaching constantly through open-ended conversations as He walked alongside people as a friend.  

This distinction matters because many of us have been conditioned to believe that preaching belongs to pastors and happens in church services. But in truth, preaching is something every follower of Jesus is invited into. Why? Because… 

Jesus understood how humans learn.

Every diet plan comes with a list of rules promising transformation if you stick to them. The steps are clear. Yet, most people don’t stick with it just because they read the guidelines.

The truth is, information doesn’t create a transformative experience. If it did, everyone would be fit just by knowing what to do and making a checklist. 

Recognizing this, we must grasp the difference between ideas and action. Ideas provide clarity, but action brings it to understanding. Without action, even the best-informed hope for freedom remains just a dream. 

This is where phenomenology comes into play as the study of human experience and consciousness. Focusing on how we perceive and interpret the world around us, it examines the structures of experience—how things appear to us, how we make sense of them, and how they shape our understanding of reality.

For example, phenomenology doesn’t just look at a chair as a physical object but asks how we experience the chair—its comfort, purpose, or meaning in our lives. In faith contexts, phenomenology can help us understand how people experience God, freedom, or community, emphasizing the lived reality over abstract ideas.

In short, phenomenology reminds us why we need to embrace experience over information.

Without action, even the best-informed hope for freedom remains just a dream.

Studies in cognitive science show that for verbal information to truly become part of what we know, it has to be repeated thousands of times. This process, called encoding, moves information from short-term awareness into long-term understanding, but it’s far from simple. Speeches, no matter how compelling, cannot provide the ongoing engagement needed for this deeper level of retention, which is why most messages are quickly forgotten.

Perhaps the best example of this is how AA (Alcoholics Anonymous) sees learning. Knowing that alcoholism is a lifelong disease, AA seeks to help members live sober through ongoing experiences, not talks. Likewise, followers of Jesus, knowing the sin of self-reliance is a disease we cannot think our way out of, must move beyond talks if the goal is to see people live in freedom. It’s a shift that starts with two conclusions: 

1. Words Alone Won’t Work 

Hearing ideas is only the start. Having the right knowledge is powerful, but only when it’s believed by faith. ​​Without experience, understanding remains limited to what you think instead of impacting what you believe. 

2. Experience Matters Most 

Information can’t do the heavy lifting. It’s having the time to go learn what we know in the everyday moments of life that turns knowledge into faith. Transformation of the mind happens when faith is practiced, shared, and felt in real relationships and real situations.

Please don’t mishear me. I am not saying go “Preach the gospel at all times. Use words if necessary.” The gospel of Jesus is news that’s not preached apart from words. What I am saying is: spontaneous dialogue is the best form of preaching if living in freedom is your goal. 

This approach combines open-ended conversation with impromptu teaching, engaging people where they are and adapting to the moment. Unlike a scripted speech, it’s more like a coaching session than a pre-recorded message. Think of improv comedians: they prepare but stay flexible. This dynamic, conversational style is how Jesus primarily taught, making each interaction unique and impactful for all parties involved. 

Jesus invited us all to go learn.

Speaking to His followers, Jesus said: “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to observe everything I have commanded you” (Matt 28:19-20).

The word “go” literally means “as you are going through life.” “Disciple” refers to the moments you help people Jesus for who He already is for them. To “baptize” is straightforward—whether it’s in a pool, the beach, or a bathtub. And “teaching them to observe everything I have commanded”? That simply means pointing out what is good.

In a world where many are exhausted by “doing more” for Jesus, this might seem like another task aimed at getting people back to an idea of church. But when we view it through the lens of His words on the cross—“It is finished”—we see it as an invitation to step into the freedom He’s already given, learning to live free alongside others, right where we are (John 19:30).

“Disciple” refers to the moments you help people see Jesus for who He already is for them.

This invitation from Jesus ties directly to Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 5:18-19: “God gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation.”

In Paul’s words, we exist for the “world” that hasn’t yet awakened to their reconciled reality. So our “ministry is to help others see—and keep seeing—what is already done. This is the difference between faith and religion—a message entrusted to “us” as people who are the Church, not to organizations or buildings labeled as churches.

Like Jesus, we are free to trade the insulating madness of an institution for the life of friendship and conversation. It’s in these everyday moments—where people are free to be who they really are—that we all learn not to be something more, but to trust in who Jesus already is for us. 

The only question is: Will we cling to what’s familiar for a false sense of security, or will we look back, recognize how we truly learn, and embrace a better way?