“It is for liberty that Christ has set us free,” Galatians

The cover of Newsweek for the week of Easter sported the photo of an Iraqi civilian planting a kiss on the cheek of a G.I. with the word freedom printed in bold letters across the top of the page. Yes, freedom is something that is very important to us. We place the highest premium upon it. In recent weeks a hundred or so families on this side of the Atlantic received the remains of their dead children who ostensibly lost their lives in defense of freedom.
Our love affair with freedom would almost have us believe that we are, in fact, in possession of it, that we are its creators, that we gave birth to freedom, that we define its contours, that we give freedom its meaning, that it is our child both to protect and to cause to prosper.

With freedom occupying such a central place in our consciousness and its defense consuming more than 80% of our resources, why do you suppose it is, that so many feel so trapped in their lives, so devoid of hope and meaning, and that so much of our energy is directed toward escaping our experience? If our freedom were as real as we protest, if our freedom were as deep as we imagine, would we feel so bound, so empty and so eager to flee?

People feel trapped in toxic relationships, in their failing bodies, in dead-end jobs, in meaningless lives, in spiraling debt, and in moribund economic, political, social and even religious systems that play and feed upon doubt and fear.

The dream that we tout, predicated on the freedom that we prize, has nightmare dimensions for more and more people: as the gap between the very wealthy and the most poor widens, as a true middle class shrinks, as joblessness and homelessness rise, as health care becomes more a privilege than a right, as the mentally ill are further stripped of already bare-bone resources, as veterans’ benefits are cut, as quality education becomes increasingly inaccessible, as the prison population reaches record highs, as the treadmill speeds up and we fall always further behind.

And so it is easy to understand and empathize with our perceived need to escape. And it is easy to marvel at the ingenuity and the creativity of the myriad escape routes and mechanisms that we contrive for ourselves.

We shop till we drop and accessorize with a vengeance. We drug, drink, eat and sex ourselves into an oblivious stupor. We zone out for hours on end before the television, channel-surfing from one vacuous image to the next. We bully our way through relationships to avoid the threats associated with genuine intimacy and true mutuality. We trust in exercise and health foods and hope that body parts harvested from clones will make sickness and death a thing of the past. Even if they bring some temporary relief, none of the escape strategies succeeds in the long run.

Freedom is not our creation. The story of freedom began long before the modern age. It began with the call of Abraham and was crystallized in the Passover, Exodus and covenant events of the Israel of God. Israel’s Passover formed the template for the flowering of human freedom through the passover, death and resurrection of the Lord Jesus. Easter, my brothers and sisters, is the realization and celebration of that human freedom which is most real and of which we stand in most desperate need.

When we embrace freedom we too narrowly settle for that freedom that is merely about our civil liberties and personal freedoms. While civil liberties and individual personal freedoms are certainly of value, God’s story of freedom and God’s call to liberty are of an entirely different order and magnitude. For God would set us free, really free, from all the biggies: from doubt, fear, sin and death and make us free for truth, faith, holiness and life eternal.

Yes, God wills to free us from crippling doubt. To free us from any doubt that he truly loves us. Yes, God wills to free us from disabling fear. Too many people live too much of their lives anxious, frightened and even terrified. In the resurrection of Jesus, God says, do not be afraid, you have nothing to fear, you are in your living and in your dying in my hands. Yes, God wills to free us from deadly sin. We don’t have to sin. There is no such thing as a necessary evil. Yes, God will free us from eternal death. Death has no power over those who believe in Jesus. Death has no victory. Of course we grieve our losses, but we do not grieve as those who have no hope.

Christ has died to set us free with a freedom that the world is simply impotent to give and a freedom that the world does not understand. A freedom that can never be taken away. A freedom that needs no defense. A freedom that allows a living of life to the full and in abundance.

If you are in any way feeling trapped and empty and needing to escape, the stone has been rolled away. You too are free to go where he leads the way. Forsake the dream become nightmare and choose to live instead in the imagination of God. Love with abandon, forgive 70 times seven times, return good for evil and at every turn abandon the way of violence.

Editor’s Note: This article is excerpted from the Easter Homily given this year by the Rev. Frank J. Alagna.

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Letter to the Editor

To the Editor:
Thank you for acknowledging in your request for letters that there are many different views among us on the campaign in Iraq — although it would be hard to tell from the outside. For a community with a long history of spiritual and intellectual independence and rigor, far too many of our members and leaders have let their personal animosities toward President Bush spill over into an illogical and vitriolic anti-war position. To quote Fouad Ajami in the April 14 U.S. News & World Report, “a willful delusion about the war fails to demean its rightness.”

No rational person can be pro-war. And might does not make right. But using might when one has to does not make right any less right. Can anyone deny the cheering crowds in liberated Baghdad? Can anyone dismiss the food and medical supplies rushed into Iraq even as the last pockets of fanatical Baath Party irregulars were firing on their own suffering people? Peace is always preferable, and it is lamentable that the U.S. has never had much of a gift for diplomacy. But in the words of Theodore Roosevelt, “Given a choice between peace and righteousness, I chose righteousness.”

Let us pray for guidance at home, that the leaders and members of the worldwide Anglican Communion can again engage in meaningful discussion about issues, and not indulge in hasty and unfounded condemnations.

Gregory D. L. Morris
Congregation of St. Saviour, Manhattan