Afraid to be free …

One of the most daunting challenges of surrendering our lives to Jesus Christ so we can be set free from the bondage of sin and ruin of death is living out the responsibility that comes with freedom.

To the ears of an American, that sounds odd. It was for freedom that this country was founded, it was for freedom that we fought and killed one another in a bloody civil war, it was for freedom that the men and women of our armed forces have fought and died around the world, and it is freedom that is the greatest idea our nation offers to the world.

But when it comes to our spiritual life, we can be ever so quick to become entangled once again to sin that enslaves us.

For a freedom-loving people, you would think we would find the possibility of again being caught up in anything that would rob us of our freedom to be something dark, ominous, and wholly unwelcome. The Jewish people knew that loathsome feeling of a deeper impending slavery, as Scott Roberts writes about …

Despair.com has a poster which reads, “Despair: It always gets darkest just before it fades to pitch black.” Too many people live without hope, going from one dark event to another. I wonder if that is how the Jews felt in the time just before Jesus’ birth?

They had been a privileged people, one of the only groups allowed to self-rule, to self-tax and to be free from military service in the Roman Empire. Julius Caesar had granted these rights because Judaism was older than Rome itself. But then came Octavius who instituted a census, which was to occur every 14 years, and it did for the next two centuries. So what’s the big deal about a census? Ancient empires took censuses in order to tax or to conscript.

This simple event was a signal to the Jewish people that their favored status was in the process of being revoked and that they, like everyone else, were nothing more than a conquered, subjugated people. Simply having Romans in the land would have seemed pretty dark, but having them prepare to tax and conscript would have felt like pitch black. It would be a return to slavery, a proverbial return to Egypt.

While to American sensibilities it would seem to be the heart’s desire to seek freedom and, once gained, to pay any price to keep it, that often isn’t the real personal experience of many. That’s because when we are free we have all the responsibilities of being free. We have become so habitualized to spiritual slavery that the freedoms that come with our salvation scare many, often to the point of flirting with those things that enslave. Graham Johnston compares our fear of being free to the story from a popular movie …

In the film The Shawshank Redemption, Ellis “Red” Redding has spent his prime wasting away in prison because of a reckless act of violence he committed as a teenager. After 40 years of incarceration, Red finally receives his release to enjoy the freedom for which he’s longed.

However, he can’t free himself from the habit of asking for permission each time he wishes to use the men’s room. He’s become “institutionalized.” This newfound life scares him, because he’s grown accustomed to the structure behind bars. Imprisonment had become safe for Red. He didn’t have to exercise his own decision-making. Someone else did the thinking for him, and now, on the outside, he faces a prospect more daunting and terrifying than incarceration: freedom.

Red confesses that he contemplates various ways to break his parole and return to the security of his prison cell. He sums up his dilemma in one line: “It is a terrible thing to live in fear.”

Fear of freedom can creep into our thoughts and emotions, as Dorothy Sayer writes in Dorothy L. Sayer: A Rage for Life:

The divine “scheme of things,” as Christianity understands it, is at once extremely elastic and extremely rigid. It is elastic, in that it includes a large measure of liberty for the creature; it is rigid in that it includes the proviso that, however created beings choose to behave, they must accept responsibility of their own actions and endure the consequences.

Such freedom, laden with responsibility, frightens many. Knowing that, the Apostle Paul issued this caution to the Galatian Christians:

“So Christ has truly set us free. Now make sure that you stay free, and don’t get tied up again in slavery to the law,” Galatians 5:1.

Van Morris uses a story from a different movie to contrast our fear of freedom with the overwhelming freedom we have in Christ …

[The movie] Moneyball begins with Oakland Athletics general manager Billy Beane (played by Brad Pitt) upset by his team’s loss to the New York Yankees in the 2001 postseason. With the impending departure of star players, Beane attempts to devise a strategy for assembling a competitive team for 2002 but struggles to overcome Oakland’s limited player payroll. During a visit to the Cleveland Indians, Beane meets Peter Brand (played by Jonah Hill), a young Yale economics graduate with radical ideas about how to assess players’ value. Sensing opportunity, Beane hires Brand as the Athletics’ assistant general manager.

Ultimately during the 2002 season, the Athletics win an unprecedented 20 consecutive games, setting the American League record. Despite all their success, the A’s lose in the first round of the postseason.

As Beane sits alone in the clubhouse, Brand attempts to convince him that he “won pretty big.” Seeing that he is unconvinced, Brand invites Beane to the video room. Brand has cued up a segment of tape for Beane to watch — a clip about a player named Jeremy Brown, a catcher from their minor league baseball team, the Visalia Oaks.

Brand narrates as the clip plays:

The Visalia Oaks and our 240-pound catcher Jeremy Brown, who as you know, is scared to run to second base, this was in a game six weeks ago. This guy [the pitcher] is going to start him off with a fast ball. Jeremy’s gonna take it to deep center. Here’s what’s really interesting, because Jeremy is gonna do what he never does—he’s gonna go for it; he’s gonna round first and he’s gonna go for it. Okay!

In the video, Jeremy rounds first and appears to be headed for second, only to stop and crawl back to the security of first base. He clings to first base like a frightened child clings to a teddy bear.

“This is all Jeremy’s nightmares coming to life,” says Brand.

“Ah, they’re laughing at him,” says Beane.

Brand says, “Jeremy’s about to find out why; Jeremy’s about to realize that the ball went 60 feet over the fence. He hit a home run, and he didn’t even realize it.”

Beane stares at the screen as Jeremy finally discovers that the ball went out of the park and then jubilantly rounds the bases for home.

Beane smiles and asks, “How can you not be romantic about baseball?”

“It was a metaphor,” Brand responds.

“I know it was a metaphor,” replies Beane.

And of course Jeremy Brown’s behavior is also a metaphor for the Christian life. Christ has already hit the home run that brings us home. His righteousness has been credited to our account, and we are now at peace with God. We don’t have to live in fear, carefully crawling back to and then clinging to first base. Instead, we can jubilantly run the race as we head confidently toward home.

Scripture echoes Morris’ encouraging exhortation with a similar one of its own:

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us,” Hebrews 12:1.

Fear of freedom is an insistence on hugging first base. Taking on the responsibilities that come with freedom is choosing to steadfastly run the race God has set before us. Which have you chosen?

Scotty