Freedom limited by compassion for others

Compassion suggests that we limit our freedom in ways that will help others on their journey toward wholeness. “But take care that this liberty of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak.”


Freedom limited by compassion for others

The news is filled with events and discussion around freedom of speech, freedom of conscience and freedom of religion. The killing of journalists and cartoonists in Paris at the Charlie Hebdo office was directly in response to their exercise of freedom of speech – printing satirical cartoons about a wide variety of issues and figures, including the Prophet Mohamed. Those who carried out the murders said they were offended, and were defending their own religious views.

In Utah this week the Mormon church held a press conference about their new policy stand – supporting proposed legislation in that state preventing discrimination against people based on race, gender or sexual orientation, including in hiring, housing and other public practices. Along with this, they state a strong preference for policies that also protect the rights of religious people to speak and practice their religious views without retaliation. Depending on which coverage you read, or where you stand on the issues, you see

We in this constitutional democratic republic are accustomed to wrestling between freedom and and its limits based on responsibility to the freedom of others. You may have the right to carry a concealed hand gun, but there are limits to that freedom – you cannot carry it on a public school campus. You may have freedom of speech, but there are limits – you can’t falsly yell “FIRE!” in a crowded movie theatre.

These ideas are so well engrained in us that we sometimes get confused when we think about, discuss and practice our faith. We sometimes forget that Jesus came to establish his Kingdom, which is not a democracy. We pray His prayer, asking that God’s kingdom would come on earth as it is in heaven – essentially pledging ourselves to living and working for that fulfillment. So what of our freedom in Christ within this kingdom that is coming, and is already here?

I’ve written recently about our freedom in Christ vis-a-vis the Law. Free from and Free for. Here I want us to think about the limits on our freedom based on our compassion for others. Take a look at the text again in 1 Corinthians 8:9 But take care that this liberty of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak.

The gist is this: If exercising my freedom would cause someone else to stumble, then I should limit my freedom to protect them. Each party has responsibility. But if the other person is prevented from exercising restraint because of their own brokenness, then my love (God’s love working through me) would dictate that I should not act in a way that harms that person or causes her to harm herself.

Paul uses an example that is anachronistic for most of us – food sacrificed to idols. There are still places where you can find this, but they are rarer than in Paul’s time. And Paul was writing to people who likely would have practiced this form of food dedication in their daily lives.

We may not be likely to encounter this difficulty. So how will we experience this?

They’ll never take our freedom

They may take our lives…
        … but they’ll never take OUR FREEDOM!!!

This is one of my favorite scenes from any movie. I’m inspired by several things in it:

  1. We choose how to live, ultimately. We choose whether to live a rich and full life, however long it may be, or to live small, petty lives in fear and want.
  2. People, situations and forces will work against our efforts to live free.
  3. Skirts, braided hair with ribbon, and makeup are cool, and no one ever made them look more tough and masculine.
  4. Most importantly, people cannot “take our freedom” because real freedom is internal. This is what Viktor E. Frankl discovered in the concentration camps during WWII, about which he wrote in Man’s Search for Meaning. Its also the sentiment behind Maya Angelou’s poemCaged Bird.

I’m inclined toward pacifism actually, though I acknowledge the necessity of war to defend those who cannot defend themselves. Even so, if we take the movie as not only historical fiction but also as a metaphor for our spiritual lives, then we can perhaps see how  if we do not fiercely live our freedom, then we have lost it already.

“Those who seek their lives will lose them, while those who lose their lives for my sake will find them.” (Matthew 10:39) Maybe there’s a connection there. Maybe.

Caged Bird

Purchase works by Maya Angelou here.

A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.


Maya Angelou, “Caged Bird” from Shaker, Why Don’t You Sing? Copyright © 1983 by Maya Angelou. Source: The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou (Random House Inc., 1994) Track Back to Poetry Foundation

Where does identity lead you?

Our identity in Christ supersedes all others.
No allegiance is more important.
This is the basis for our unity in Christ.


In the Gospel of Mark, 1:14-20, we witness Jesus calling four fishermen (at least one of whom was also a disciple of John the Baptist) to become disciples of his. He does this by rooting the call in their identity – “You are fishermen. I will make you fishers of men.”

Our identity in Christ derives from and is rooted in our identity before Christ, with a continuity that bridges the gap., as Paul says, “4 For while we are still in this tent, we groan under our burden, because we wish not to be unclothed but to be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.” (2 Cor 5:4). Our transformation is becoming more fully ourselves.

As Paul was writing his early letter to the Corinthians, it was early in his ministry and he believed that Christ would return very soon. This led him to urge people to not try to move from one station in life to another “for the time is short.” (1 Cor 7) Slaves and masters, husbands and wives, whatever your situation, seek to make the most of it. That’s a hard pill to swallow today, because we are so interested in liberation from oppression – as well we should be. If we thought that the world we know were going to end within months, we might set different priorities, as Paul obviously did.

Paul says there is no longer Jew or Gentile, Male or Female, Slave or Free (Gal 3:28; Col 3:11). He’s not, of course, speaking literally. Christ does not eliminate these distinctions. He enfolds, encapsulates, eclipses. He takes down “the dividing wall, the hostility” that was rooted in these distinctives. God obviously loves endless variety and complexity, even within the church. Every snowflake and every face and every personality are similarly unique and wondrous. But no longer does our individualism or our group identity become cause or justification for our separation from others, our oppression and rejection of others.

Again, it is important to recall that Paul believed his world was coming to an end shortly: “…in light of the impending crisis…. and the appointed time has grown short…” (1 Cor 7:26, 29) This both energizes and tempers his thoughts on identity. Had he known that we’d still be here 2000 years later waiting for the second coming of Christ, might he have addressed the inequity in relationships, particularly between husbands and wives, masters and servants, differently? We can’t know. We do know that he urged Philemon to treat Onesimus as a brother rather than as a slave (Philemon 1:16-17). This may hint at what Paul thought ought to happen more broadly. “Brother in Christ” trumps the identities of “master” and “slave.”

What might this understanding do to our political landscape? Imagine if our politicians who consider themselves followers of Jesus were to join hands as sisters and brothers, owning the truth that their identity in Him trumps any political affiliation, ideology or “ism”?

What if in our social interactions and community conversations we looked first at people as sisters and brothers? Granted, many around us are not professing disciples of Jesus. We are called to love them just as much. For the moment though, let’s just consider those who are. When we look at those across town who are in need, and we realize that many of them are our brothers and sisters in Christ, how does that change our feeling, thinking, and acting?

What relationships do we intentionally cultivate with those who look and live differently from us? Those in whose neighborhoods we would not immediately feel at home? Might Christ be calling us to more than a passive and tacit acknowledgement of our filial love? Might God want a proactive and energetic engagement? What would that look like? Where would we even start?

If we actually took our identity in Christ seriously, how would we disagree differently? How would I listen more and worry less about convincing you of my point of view? Paul is so serious about this that he chastises the Corinthians for suing and taking a fellow Christian to court. Better, Paul says, to let yourself be cheated than to violate your relationship in Christ (1 Cor 6.1 ff). Can we bring forward the fullness of our unique identity AND affirm our unity in Christ?


**  A reflection for “Our Attachment to Identity” From 1 Corinthians 7:29-31   &   Mark 1:14-20 First preached Sunday 1/25/15 @ http://www.StPaulUCCDallas.org

Are you my mother?

There is no question that identity matters. I believe that one of the reasons this particular question is so important is that it points to identity. Yes, we want to be loved, even to be “mothered” (nurtured, swaddled, held, nursed, comforted, encouraged, taught, protected…) These and many other essentials are held in the idea of motherhood. The “first cause” if you will of motherhood is to bring us into the world.

When the baby bird asks, “Are you my mother?” she is asking, “Do I come from you? Do I belong to and with you? Does my identity derive (at least in part) from you?” I have not personally had the ‘adopted child searching for his mother’ conversation with anyone, so I can’t speak first hand. My hunch is, though, that in this risky and difficult venture people are seeking identity as much as anything else. Some say they want to know why – “Why did you give me up? Why did you leave me?” I get that, I think, though I can’t imagine how it actually feels. Perhaps this is also a question of identity, at least partly. “Who am I, and who are you, therefore who are we, that you would do this thing? If you would do that, what does this say about me?” I don’t know, but I wonder if these aren’t some subconscious questions being asked. My mom died when I was 27 and my sister was 32. At the memorial service, as people walked out and greeted us, my mother-in-law (I adore both my in-laws) walked up and gave me a hug. Sobbing, I asked her, “Will you be my mommy now?” I felt like I was 5 years old. I felt like the baby bird. Who will do all those mothering things for me? I needed to know. It was also a question of identity – “Can I belong to you? Will you claim me in this way?” The answer was a tender and quiet and confident “Yes, of course.” What of all those around us who lack a relationship of this kind? Where are the mothers who will step forward and fill the gap? Who will respond to the cry of children and adults who lack a mother’s nurture, love and care? And who will carry this banner? Who will hold this vision of hope and community so that others might be inspired and moved to action?


**  A reflection for “Our Attachment to Identity” From 1 Corinthians 7:29-31   &   Mark 1:14-20 First preached Sunday 1/25/15 @ http://www.StPaulUCCDallas.org