Freedom for ...?

Dear one,
Once again we have been subjected to an indelible image: the throngs at Kabul’s Hamid Karzai International Airport; the throngs of those who clung to the jets seeking to depart.

Equally indelible, I think, is our American impulse regarding those who seek freedom. Irrespective our political views: how and why we came to have a presence in Afghanistan; and how and why we extricated ourselves from that land, typically we are sympathetic towards those who seek to escape tyranny. Whether or not our sympathy leads us to action, is another question; but that we understand the human desire to be free from the King Georges, the Stalins, the Idi Amins, the Kim Jong-uns of this world is deeply embedded in our national psyche. The cry “Freedom!” rings deeply within us.

However, that word “freedom” is incomplete without a simple preposition, which provides definition and direction. That is, is it “freedom from,” or “freedom for”? Given my “narrow window on main street,” it appeared to me that those who thronged the Afghan airport were much more focused upon “from” than upon “for”: “flight from” rather than “flight for.” Admittedly, given their circumstances, I too might have sought “flight from,” particularly if I knew that the Taliban would soon knock upon my door. In this regard our American forebears anticipated well: they not only wanted freedom from King George III, but freedom for self-rule, or as John Locke propounded: for “life, liberty, and property.”

Without question, our forebears were influenced by Locke—and certainly by that fundamental English tradition dating back to the Magna Carta of 1215—but I tend to believe that their thinking was also greatly influenced by the Christian tradition, which they imbibed from infancy. Surely they were influenced by Jesus’ words: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:39/ Leviticus 19:18), which, although His words do not negate Locke’s view, provide an altogether-different direction. Locke’s view can be reduced to that thought common among us: within parameters, “freedom” means I can do what I want: I’m free from constraints; whereas Jesus’ words center not upon “I” but upon “you,” that “other” I encounter as my “neighbor.” Thus Jesus’ words imply that my love is for my neighbor, a love which, paradoxically, means that, without constraints, I am free to give myself for the sake of my neighbor, even as Jesus did (John 10:10-11).

I wonder: are you and I free to love God and our neighbors as ourselves? If not, what shackles or handcuffs binds us?

Pondering,
Stan