Live free or die

I read an article in the Idaho Statesman noting that Cuba may be angling to get rid of its ration books–the little booklets passed out by the government allocating equal shares of rice, beans, and other staples to all of its citizens. What was more shocking was reading that there are Cuban citizens upset by even the thought of doing away with this paternalistic remnant of Castro’s communist Revolution.

They’ve apparently revolutionized New Hampshire’s famously defiant state motto of “Live free or die.” In Cuba, it’s simply “Be dependent” – or what, get shot? I guess there really is no other option. But it goes to show how the old fashioned notion of personal liberty is traded in for perceived security by enslaved people.

In Cuba, the eradication of liberty was as central to their Revolution as the establishment of it was to ours. The newspaper article quoted one resident who was born and raised during the Revolution. “I have no idea what would be available to buy on the free market,” Silvia Alvarez says. Her uncertainty produces neither hope nor excitement about the possibility that eliminating ration books could lead to more choices being available. Instead, it produces fear. That’s what enslavement does to the soul.

She goes on, “It seems to me … we ought to keep it at least for awhile longer.” I wonder if that was the sentiment felt by the Jewish Christians in the first century who had to change their mindset from one where everything was spelled out and spoon fed to them in the Law, to one where the perfect Law of liberty ruled supreme. If we could just hold onto the law a little longer, maybe we’ll feel more comfortable with this whole “Christian liberty” concept.

There is perceived safety in the nanny state. Likewise, there is perceived safety in legalism. Under law, we don’t need to think too hard about things–it’s all spelled out fairly clearly how we are supposed to behave.

While the Pharisees spent their spare time intellectualizing the law and perforating it with all the available loopholes, the common man had a very safe existence: Listen to the rabbi each Sabbath tell you what you ought to be doing. Do it. Not unlike Silvia Alvarez 2000 years later in Cuba, except the state stands in the place of the rabbi. While liberty, by its very nature, produces variety as a results of the free choices we make every day, there is security, familiarity, and uniformity in being told what to do. We don’t want to risk making the wrong decision, so we revert to the same decisions we’ve always been comfortable with.

The struggle between liberty and security is not a new one; Ben Franklin was simply a wise man to put it into words when he wrote that “He who sacrifices freedom for security deserves neither.” Of course, none of us deserve the freedom we have in Christ. Nevertheless, his point is worth remembering, that freedom and security stand in opposition to one another. They are not partners–they never have been.

It’s tempting for Christians who have been freed from the Law to look back longingly at the familiar confines of legalism, like Lot’s wife, but we can’t be drawn in by the apparent security it offers. It’s a false security. It’s a little scary to give up the ration book of the nanny state, and the resulting dependency it creates, I know. But remember: God wants to stock our spiritual shelves with so much more than what is allowed under the Law.

Galatians 5:13-15 – You, my brothers, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the sinful nature; rather, serve one another in love. The entire law is summed up in a single command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”