Freedom in Christ
Delivered on Thursday 27 January 2005 in University College Oxford
Genesis 28:10-22 and Philemon
Much, this week, has been made of 'Freedom'. Thursday marked the 60th anniversary of the Liberation of Auschwitz. And today sees the first democratic elections to take place in Iraq since the so-called liberation from a rule of tyranny. Freedom is a well-liked concept; one that sells newspapers and captures hearts.
Freedom is also a central theme in the Biblical narrative. Indeed the framework of the entire Old Testament is based on one story - that of the Exodus. The people of the Old Testament understood the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob as the God who brought them out of slavery into a land flowing with milk and honey. If we were to ask them who God is, the answer would come back: he is the one who brought us out of captivity. The characters of the New Testament wouldn't describe Jesus in this way but if we were to ask them the same question they might well reply in the words of the early creed: God is he who raised Jesus Christ from the dead. God brings liberation even from the captivity of death itself. You don't have to be a biblical scholar or a theologian to see that the centrality of the concept freedom within the scriptures.
And while this is a general truth, our two readings this evening give support to what I'm saying in a more particular way. They help to put flesh on what at the moment is little more than a skeletal concept. The first lesson was the wonderful story of Jacob's dream - we might normally think of Joseph as the dreamer of the Old Testament - but in fact Jacob's dream is the very first dream narrative of the scriptures. It is, of course, a well known story. Jacob while on a journey is surprised by the speed of nightfall; in fact, so fast has dark fallen that he has to spend the night outdoors. He makes himself as comfortable as possible, lying down to sleep with a stone behind his head for protection. In the course of the night he has a dream: he sees a stairway connecting heaven and earth, and he sees heavenly beings going up and down these stairs. And then, God appears to him. God speaks to Jacob and promises to bless him: to bless him with land, with countless offspring, with his continued presence. This much we heard in the reading, but what we didn't hear was why Jacob was on this journey.
This was no ordinary journey to purchase some livestock for the family herd, or to spy out new pastures; Jacob was running away. He was running away from his angry brother Esau. For just previously he had tricked Esau out of what was rightfully his: their Father's blessing of the oldest son. You'll remember how he covered his hands with the skins of kids, and put on Esau's clothes, and went in to his blind father and tricked him into giving him the blessing in place of his brother. Of course when Esau found out he flew into a rage: 'I will kill my brother Jacob'. But their mother Rebekah sought out Jacob and persuaded him to go away for a while until his brother's anger subsided. And so, in fear of his life, he ran away. But while he had successfully run away from Esau he ran into God. His first reaction to his dream was also one of fear, fear - no doubt - at having been found in the depths of his sin, but slowly but surely he became convinced of the enormity of the promises that God had made to him. And not only to him, but God's graciousness and love had, through him, been poured out to all people, for God had promised that 'all the families of the earth shall be blessed in you and in your offspring'. And as Jacob reflected on these promises he responded in faith and built an altar to the Lord. He would continue for some years on his self-imposed journey into exile but when he would eventually return he would be welcomed with open arms by his brother Esau. His is a story of liberation: A journey from fear to peace.
The second reading concerns another runaway, this time Onesimus, a runaway slave. Exactly how Onesimus came across Paul, who was under house arrest at the time, is not clear, but perhaps a mutual friend made the introduction in the expectation that Paul could do something to ease the young slave's predicament. What Paul did was to write a letter to Philemon, the slave's master. But what was Paul asking Philemon to do? The answer to this question is surprisingly complicated and the biblical scholars provide us with a range of options. Perhaps the most likely of these is the interpretation that suggests that while Onesimus has been away from Philemon's household he has become a Christian. Because now, Paul is faced with two estranged Christians and he knows that the gospel they have embraced is a gospel of reconciliation; a gospel which must be able to bring together slave and free, Jew and Greek, male and female. He understands that both of these men are paralysed in their current situation. Something needs to happen so that they can be freed: Onesimus to seek forgiveness, Philemon to grant it; Onesimus to abandon fear, Philemon to put away pride. The catalyst Paul points to is Christian fellowship, Christian interchange. And so Paul sets about the task of making a subtle case. In the early part of the letter he identifies himself with Philemon from whom he claims he has received much joy and encouragement. Then he goes on to identify with Onesimus, who he describes as 'my own heart'. Through this mutual identification Paul commands Philemon to welcome Onesimus, not as a slave but as a beloved brother. It is quite simple. Paul points to the faith that both men been grasped by. He explains that that faith binds them to a fellowship of love in Jesus Christ, and precisely because of that fellowship they can have the hope of resolving their situation - of experiencing the spirit of God as liberator.
These apparently disparate readings are linked in at least this respect: they both, in different ways, pick up on the central Biblical concept of freedom. And yet, while I've explained something of how I see freedom working within these narratives, I still need to say something further about freedom itself. What do I mean by freedom? Contemporary accounts of freedom speak of the absence of limits and constraints. To be truly free, according to many modern accounts, is to have what you want, and to do what you want, and to say what you want. But such a description of freedom is not a Christian description. Such accounts begin and end with the individual and seek personal satisfaction at the expense of the other, perhaps not purposively but due to sheer neglect and carelessness. So what, according to the Christian account, is freedom? To answer this question, let us briefly revisit our texts. In the first story Jacob has been freed from fear which consumed him and compelled him out of his home country to make his way in a strange land. Note, he was not empowered to simply return to his brother as though nothing at happened. What was restored to him - or maybe given to him for the first time - was an understanding of himself as part of community. He had previously seen life as an opportunity for bettering himself; now he could see, like never before, that life was lived not for oneself but in relation to others.
Paul is singing from that same hymn-sheet. Both Onesimus and Philemon have radically opposed views of how their problem might be solved. Both seek to gain advantage or recompense from the other; both seek to exercise power over the other. But Paul explains that this road will lead nowhere, they should, instead, walk towards an understanding of each other as being part of the same project, of existing not to gain advantage but to relate to each other.
The terrors of Auschwitz or any other tyrannical power begins when freedom is seen as the possibility of exercising ultimate power over another. It is sown in selfishness and reaped in oppression. Real freedom - that as taught by our Lord - is, however, the ability to recognize that interdependence of all beings which is only fully enjoyed in Paradise.
To learn that lesson is to grow in holiness and wisdom.
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