The Gift of Freedom and the Family it Unites

Originally published with wildfaithco.com.

Fourth of July growing up in Texas was sticky. My cousins and I would start the day gathering our bikes, strollers, wagons—anything with wheels—and draping them in red, white, and blue to create a circle-driveway parade at my grandfather’s house. By 10 am,  it was over 100 degrees, so we’d plunge our sticky selves into the pool and fill our bellies with watermelon and those special processed snacks that you could always count on from Pappaw, even though they were strictly banned at home. On a good year, we would sneak out to the front porch at nightfall to light illegal sparklers, hiding them behind our backs and whistling our innocence at the hint of a passing car. 

Of course we never got caught. Police weren’t patrolling our nice little white neighborhood looking for errant, sparkler-wielding children. So once the sugar and general holiday adrenaline finally wore off, we retreated to our homes, snuggled into beds, and dreamed of explosions in the sky. 

At ten years old, I was proud to be an American where at least I know I’m free.

But just as our childhood films and books warned us, the peril of growing up means eyes open to a fuller picture of the world. Less sparkler, more solidarity with the decision against those processed snacks. By college, much of the American sheen of my youth was pockmarked with questions and new information about the price of freedom, its perils, and who does or does not really enjoy its promise.

But glory be to God that in the midst of exposing the barriers to freedom that exist in America, He is revealing to me that perfect form of freedom found in scripture. 

In Paul’s letter to the Galatians, he describes us as enslaved to sin. The more I grow in my understanding of the dark blight of slavery in the Western world, the richer and more sinister this imagery becomes. You see, sin never actually looks like shackles. We think we are choosing to live as we please, but the Bible exposes sin for the cruel master it is.

This is why Jesus is so precious to us as Christians. He is the engineer on the railroad to freedom. He shows us a better way. He guides us to that which is truly life.

Living in America is a gift. Compared to many in history and many around the world today, we do experience a great deal of freedom. When we taste and see the goodness of freedom—and especially when it escapes our grasp—God invites us to take his hand. Our yearning for perfect freedom is satisfied with HIm. And it is a more glorious freedom than anything we are afforded in America today.

But just like our American freedom, Christ-given freedom comes with an opportunity. What choices should we make now that we are free? 

Paul answers us here:

“For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ But if you bite and devour one another, watch out that you are not consumed by one another” (Galatians 5:13-15).

America is often described as one big melting pot, where cultures mix and mingle, disintegrating from what they were, fusing into one less discernible whole. 

But the Bible offers a different image for unity—the family. While we do become more alike as we become more like Christ, it’s the uniqueness of each family member that enhances the whole. The differing thoughts, experiences, and background of our brothers and sisters looks more like a tapestry woven together than a sludgy stew.

Seeing ourselves as a family reminds us of what really knits us in harmony. We are not ingredients to assimilate, but individuals meant to serve one another in love. 

Paul’s warning in this passage is critical for us today. There is a good and healthy way to disagree, to engage in respectful dialogue with the goal of iron sharpening iron. But the imagery he offers to the Galatians is rabid. He cautions us that the opposite of unity is to “bite and devour” and there doesn’t seem to be a middle road of “you do you.”  If we aren’t actively loving and serving one another, if we are hardening ourselves to the pain of a sister, we will create divisions in our heart. And those divisions tear at our very personhood.

The freedom we experience from sin is glorious indeed. Would you let it compel you to that greater picture of family unity that Jesus offers? We who have tasted freedom can show others the way. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness find a whole new meaning in the Way, the Truth, and the Life. 

Fourth of July this year in California was transcendent. It began as one of the least “free” celebrations in memory, with beaches closed, gatherings forbidden, and firework shows canceled due to the threat of spreading COVID-19. Alone in our home, my family and I wore orange, pink...whatever was clean that morning. We ate forgettable food and kept busy with forgettable activities. As a consolation, we promised the children that they could delay bedtime and sit on the porch with hot chocolate. Errant fireworks had been exploding for weeks, so maybe they’d see one or two.

Dusk fell and the lights began. But it soon became clear that Los Angeles had more up her sleeve than a stray sparkler. Before we knew it, we were surrounded by a 360 degree cacophony of glittery delight. You could barely take a breath between explosions, our necks tiring as we whipped them this way and that to take in the wonder all around us. 

In the middle of my marveling, I felt a deep sense of connection and appreciation for my fellow Angeleno. This moment was a gift from my neighbors, a perfect metaphor for how God takes people of all tribes and tongues and knits us into something remarkable. On their own, each household maybe had a dozen or so different fireworks, but put them together in sweet succession, and we created a symphony of light.