This morning we’re going to talk about freedom. It was my sermon topic long before the latest news cycle, in which we’ve learned of renewed violence in Israel and Palestine among people who seek freedom each by their own definition. This conflict has lasted so long, with so many tragic and complicated chapters. And we continue to pray for innocent people who find themselves in the path of war, and for people in power on both sides that they would be motivated to find a path to peace.
We’ve all heard the saying that “freedom isn’t free.” You may think of it as a cliché, or associate it with bumper stickers that you like or that you don’t, but there’s truth to it, and the idea is worth talking about. I wonder what images or contexts come to mind when I say freedom isn’t free. Perhaps you imagine Mel Gibson as William Wallace on the rack at the end of Braveheart; it’s a movie for us, but was a violent and tragic story in its own time, of people willing to pay the ultimate price for the love of freedom. In our own time, not only does the Holy Land come to mind, but Ukraine and Russia or China and Taiwan, internal struggles in Sudan, or Afghanistan, all places where people long for political freedom. Perhaps you think about our own country and our not-always functional government; it is so hard—and always has been—to keep our checks and balances in place against the impulses for greed, and the slow movement of democracy, the corrupting influences that come with power, and we remember the masses who go on feeling powerless. You may think about the heroes of the past who gave so much to secure freedom for slaves, be it fighting in the Civil War or operating the underground railroad. You may think of slaves who spent their lives working for freedom; you may think of people working still today to provide a real chance at freedom for all who live in this land.
This is indeed a complicated subject, and one I always weigh into cautiously—aware that I enjoy so many freedoms that others do not, and that there is much I do not understand, especially about the countless people for whom slavery is a modern, physical and economic reality. And yet, we must try to talk about freedom in church, because it is one of the fundamental ideas for which God created us. Slavery in all its forms is contrary to God’s will. And God’s freedom is so much more than anything I have mentioned so far, while also being connected to all of it. Freedom, as God understands it, transcends all of the circumstances of time and place; it is about the possibility that one day we might finally break the chains that bind us in this human life. Paradoxically, we only gain true freedom by placing our lives under the authority of God, and following God’s will. And as philosophical or theoretical as that may sound, it is real and immediate as well. For the quest for that true freedom is what animates those in Hong Kong or Mariupol, in Washington DC or Gettysburg, in camps near the US Border Wall or boats in the Mediterranean. It is also among all of us, across every national, political, or historical divide, as we struggle with slavery to greed, debt, alcohol, shame, rage, and the list goes on, for one of the unifying truths of human life, is that we are all longing for some kind of freedom.
Last week we began this sermon series called Roots to Rise in which we are looking at four fundamental narratives in the Bible; stories that talk of God’s will for us as we navigate life in the world. Last week we began with the Creation of human beings and talked of the choice between a tree of life and another tree whose ways lead to death; we talked of the daily struggle to choose a life that tilts us more toward life—toward purpose, meaning, generosity, joy. This week we take the next step, into the Bible’s most important story about freedom.
We are in the Book of Exodus, where we begin in chapter 1 with a verse biblical scholars understand to be pivotal. In Exodus 1:8, we read that “a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph.” This verse ties the stories that just concluded the Book of Genesis with what is to come. Let’s look back for a moment: As a reminder, Joseph was the youngest son of Jacob, one of the patriarchs of ancient Israel. His own brothers sell him into slavery just before the beginning of a great famine that will span 7 years. But Joseph, by the will of God, works his way to the very highest place of power in the land of Egypt—how? By mastering the economic forces that will enslave his own people, and eventually his own family. During 7 fat years of strong production, Joseph works with Pharaoh, the king, to store up all of the grain he can for a famine that is coming. And when the days of famine arrive, Joseph and Pharaoh begin to sell that grain back to the starving peoples around them; they sell it in exchange first for their money and then their property and finally their freedom—the people become slaves in Egypt. And then one day a new king—a new Pharaoh—arises over Egypt, one who did not know Joseph, Joseph and his family too become slaves. The Israelites have lost their freedom.
The next story, the story of the book of Exodus, is the journey back to freedom. It is a story meant to make anyone who hear it reflect on our own lives, and the ways in which we too struggle for freedom.
The story begins with Moses, a child of the enslaved Hebrew people. His mother heartbreakingly gives him up for a sort of adoption; he will survive infancy by being raised in the palace of the Pharaoh as an Egyptian. As an adult, he discovers his real identity as a Hebrew, murders an abusive slavemaster, and flees Egypt fearing for his life. In the second half of this morning’s reading, in Exodus chapter 3, we find Moses in the wilderness where he discovers God in a bush that is burning, but not consumed by the flames, and God tells him: I am the God of your ancestors. “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey…” It is an invitation to freedom.
But the journey to freedom will not be easy—freedom will not be free. Most obviously there is the Pharaoh, the oppressor who prefers to keep this source of free labor in place.
But in addition to the opposition of the Pharaoh, there is the opposition of the Hebrews themselves, and this is the layer of the story that is perhaps more spiritually interesting. As Brian McLaren writes, “It turns out that it is easier to get people out of slavery than it is to get slavery out of people.” (McLaren, We Make the Road by Walking, 44) The Hebrews have their own misgivings about the promise of freedom, because they have been slaves for so long, and they know no other way of life. So when Moses first returns from the wilderness, they are suspicious of this stranger who claims to speak on behalf of their God, who promises a land of milk and honey and that the power of God will eclipse the power of Pharaoh. As the plagues begin to be delivered, the Hebrews take notice of Moses and his God, and they begin to believe that another way of life can be possible. And on the night remembered as Passover they flee from Egypt with Moses, cross the sea, and begin a new season of life with God.
But that is not the end of the story. The land of milk and honey is still far away, and the people will wander in the wilderness for 40 years; one generation will pass away and a new one will be born. God will deliver 10 Commandments to offer the people a new way of life together; God will provide water from a rock in the desert, and manna and quails from heaven to keep them from starving and to teach them patience and trust. And in return, the people will plead with Moses to take them back to Egypt, where life was hell, but at least it was the devil they knew. God will forgive them for their idolatry as they craft more predictable gods out of gold; God will forgive them for their lack of vision for the Promised Land. For 40 years, God will pull them kicking and screaming to freedom.
It is a story of so many things that speak to the human condition, and God’s desire for us to make choices that lead to life and not death. What are the freedoms to which you are drawn, and what are the earthly realities that keep you enslaved? Exodus is a story of slavery to greed and the lust for power, of addiction and the difficulty escaping destructive ways of life. It is a story of the choices we make for good and the choices that keep us in patterns that we know are destructive; and it’s a story that reminds us how hard it is to find freedom, and to keep it. It is a daily and lifelong journey to choose the life of freedom that God wants for us, and to escape the many things in life that threaten to enslave us. We are slaves to substances and retail therapy, choices we make for momentary comfort but that ultimately make us miserable. We are enslaved to the pull of greed and power to accumulate more; like Pharaoh, we fool ourselves into thinking that if we store up enough and have more than our neighbors, we can buy real freedom—even though freedom is not for sale. We find ourselves slaves to anger and resentment toward others, guilt and shame over realities of our past, and the pride through which we try to fix all our own problems. And God is with us, throughout all of life, just as God was in the wilderness with the Israelites for 40 years, pulling us kicking and screaming toward freedom, toward a promise of greater peace through a life of trust in God.
This is one of the great narratives, perhaps the greatest, that animates the history of the Jewish people, and therefore shapes the life of Jesus, who also was Jewish. The Jews celebrate the Passover feast to remember who they are and where they came from, and it is that meal that Jesus and his disciples are sharing when they gather around the Table which we know as the one that remembers the Last Supper. This is their story, and Jesus’ story, and our story. And as we continue together on the journey we are on this fall, I pray that you will ask how life may have you in bondage, that you will receive the grace of knowing that you are in the company of the greatest saints of the Bible, and will see ways God invites us all to choose freedom. Amen.