Retiring teacher, coach urges Colony grads to ‘find their 68’
By Jeremiah Bartz Frontiersman.com A football coach using a hockey reference as the centerpiece for his keynote address may
Last month, on the Fourth of July, I found myself sitting on a blanket under the stars, gazing heavenward as fireworks exploded across the sky in bursts of red, white, and blue. There’s something about that picturesque, patriotic holiday—with its bonfires and lake days, star-shaped decor and tri-colored outfits, paradegoers waving flags and children waving sparklers—that makes it easy to feel grateful for freedom. Even in a tumultuous world, that ideal stays close to our hearts—a vision of the people, communities, and nation we hope to become.
But after the smoke cleared and the sparklers burned out, I found myself reflecting on a different kind of liberty––one we don’t celebrate with parades or barbecues. The kind that doesn’t come from governments or armies, but rather from the King of Kings: Jesus Christ. Even though I live in a country built on liberty, I’ve known what it feels like to be held captive—by fear, by expectations, by the weight of past mistakes. But there’s a kind of freedom no government or law can offer. A deeper kind. A better kind. The kind only Christ can give.
All of us, in one way or another, have felt the weight of chains—whether it’s sin, shame, fear, anger, stress, or even death itself. As imperfect mortals in a fallen world, we face trials and temptations that can bury us, burden us, and make us feel trapped by circumstances beyond our control. But we don’t have to resign ourselves to staying stuck forever. Through Jesus Christ, we can be freed from whatever binds our souls.
At the beginning of His mortal ministry, the Savior declared His purpose by quoting Isaiah: “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me... he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound” (Isaiah 61:1). As the foreordained Redeemer, Christ’s mission was always to offer freedom—to break spiritual chains and teach us how to “abide in the liberty wherewith we have been made free” (Doctrine and Covenants 88:86).
His Atonement is the source of that freedom. The prophet Lehi taught: “The Messiah cometh in the fulness of times that he may redeem the children of men from the fall. And because that they are redeemed from the fall they have become free forever, knowing good from evil; to act for themselves and not to be acted upon” (2 Nephi 2:26). Christ’s sacrifice in the garden and on the cross gives us power to act for ourselves—to change, to heal, and to move forward unburdened. When we turn to Him, we turn toward liberty.
That freedom, however, doesn’t just fall into our laps. It’s a gift we choose to receive by living His gospel—by having faith in Him, repenting, obeying God’s commandments, making and keeping sacred covenants, doing good, and enduring in discipleship. As the apostle James E. Faust taught: “Freedom and liberty are precious gifts that come to us when we are obedient to the laws of God and the whisperings of the Spirit.”
That being said, this liberty doesn’t come passively—it requires a choice. Christ warned, “No man can serve two masters” (Matthew 6:24). In an address to BYU students, Elder Paul V. Johnson explained: “When we obey Satan, we give him power. When we obey God, He gives us power...real power, the power to become like the Savior.”
I’ve felt both sides of that pull. Like everyone else, I’m an imperfect person who makes mistakes. I find myself facing the same temptations time and time again. There’ve been many days where I’ve felt overwhelmed by anxiety and uncertainty, weighed down by fear that I don’t measure up. I get caught up in expectations—both spoken and unspoken—and let the past dictate my self-worth. It’s in those moments that I feel most stuck, most alone. But I’ve found that as I kneel in sincere prayer and turn my heart back towards the Savior, as I take Christ’s invitation to “abide in Me” (John 15:4), I feel a shift. My circumstances don’t change, but my spirit does. Although I still face the same trials and temptations, I feel light. I feel at peace. I feel free.
That’s the kind of liberty Jesus offers—not just on holidays, but every day. We celebrate our country’s liberty because of what it represents. Likewise, we celebrate Christ’s liberty because of who it helps us become. As the Book of Mormon reminds us, we are “free to choose liberty and eternal life, through the great Mediator of all men, or to choose captivity and death, according to the captivity and power of the devil” (2 Nephi 2:27).
So we must “stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free” (Galatians 5:1). We can find true freedom—not from prison walls or oppressive tyrants, but from sin, shame, and despair—through the mercy of Jesus Christ. His grace breaks chains, lifts burdens, and transforms lives. As I reflect on that night under the stars, I’m still grateful for the liberties we enjoy in this country. But even more, I’m grateful for the quiet, enduring freedom Christ offers—freedom that lasts long after the fireworks fade.That’s the freedom I’m holding onto—the kind worth celebrating every day of the year.
Avery Palenske is shocked at how fast summer has flown by! She loves driving with the windows down while blaring a summer playlist. She hates sunburns and when the AC freezes up during heat waves. She thinks it’s funny that Utahns created another July holiday in Pioneer Day, but hey, she’s not complaining about the extra day off! Above all else, she’s grateful for the chance to reflect on the many blessings in her life as she worships each week in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.