Freedom

I attended a sunrise service this morning. Setting my alarm for 6 am after not setting it and not getting out of bed before 9 all week was difficult. The service was moving.

The pastor started the service by reading Genesis 1 - the creation story. When he finished, he did not go into any sermon or anything, but instead, he sat down. Thirteen other passages were going to be read, but volunteers from the church body would come forward to read. The second passage was Psalm 46. Then came Genesis 22, the sacrifice of Isaac. Then Psalm 33. Then someone began to read Exodus 14.

I have heard Exodus 14 before. I have read it. Groups have studied it. I am familiar with the story. Moses is an Israelite, but gets adopted into the royal family. He discovers his heritage, murders a slave master and flees. God meets him in the desert. God calls him to lead His people. Moses goes back. He performs miracles. The people leave. Pharaoh chases. The Red Sea gets parted. Pharaoh's army gets swallowed by the sea. The Israelites wander in the desert for 40 years.

I know the story.

But today, as these words were read:

"As Pharaoh approached, the Israelites looked up, and there were the Egyptians, marching after them. They were terrified and cried out to the LORD. They said to Moses, "Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die? What have you done to us by bringing us out of Egypt? Didn't we say to you in Egypt, 'Leave us alone; let us serve the Egyptians'? It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert!" "
- Exodus 14:10-12

I realized just what the Israelites were saying. They were yelling, demanding, complaining with Moses and with God. They were wishing for the past days, the days when they were slaves.

So I thought, "Wait...they want to be slaves?"

I was surprised. It was almost one of those Loony Toons, eyes out of your head, awooga awooga surprises. How had I missed this? How did this make any sense? I mean, for the first time in their lives, these people are free! Why would they ever want to be slaves again?

The conclusion I came to, that now seems to make sense, is that they were free, yes, but they were immediately faced with a reality of freedom in this world. They found that "In this world you will have trouble." (John 16:33). They found danger and uncertainty and fear and a God who could do amazing things but who still asked for faith.

I think that this story is my story. I think that God frees me, offers me these amazing and beautiful things saying, "Look, you're free! Now follow me!" but instead of looking around with joy and following immediately, I look around and see danger and uncertainty. I step right back into the bondage because it is familiar and known, and faith is oh so scary.

It is like the story of the POWs that I heard once. The heroic soldiers break-in, knock down the door, letting light stream into the room. They whisper, "Come on! You're free! We are here to rescue you!" but all the POWs do is huddle on the floor. They don't even look at the open door. They don't even look at the faces of their rescuers. They are too broken. They have lost all hope of anything other than their captivity.

So the soldiers try and pick them up. It doesn't work. There are too many. They plead. They urge. They shout. Nothing works.

Finally, one of them lays aside his gun, and gets down, and huddles with the POWs. He becomes one of them. Only then do the POWs realize that this is not some trick of the guards. The guards would never deign to become like prisoners.

I think that I don't know what to do with freedom. Even when it slaps me in the face. I am like the POW. I am so used to my captivity, that even with an open door, I do not have the ability to walk out of it.