Like a lot of supposed soccer fans, I have been watching the World Cup quite a bit in the last few weeks. I will be clear, it is a fantastic sporting event which will magically move me to watch a plethora of futball (for those who live outside the US, or American social structure). This Cup (if I am using the proper slang) has been different and a bit special. It is the first World Cup ever to be held in Africa and this is in South Africa, nonetheless.
As per usual, ESPN has not missed a beat to talk about things other than sports, so they have talked quite a bit about the very recent Apartheid and the freedom attained over imperialistic slavery by this very generation.
It reminds me a bit of Birmingham, where I have lived in exile from California for the last four years. I have met and studied with a woman who was best friends with one of the little girls who died in the 16th Street Bombings back in the tumultuous 60's right here in this city.
We see the struggle for freedom and we all identify in some respects with these historical examples. But why? Allow me to answer by way of illustration.
Just yesterday I was waiting on a table and trying my best to keep a clear head on my shoulders. It was late in my shift and I had been generally undertipped, which is the norm for Hallmark holidays, like Fathers' Day, but I was determined to do my job as well as I could- it was not these folks' fault I wanted to go home, afterall.
Things were going well enough when something happened that has happened many times before. It bothered me for a second yesterday but only for a second. There I was, walking to and fro around the table, verbally confirming the well-prepared food and outward happiness of the table. All was well, so I stood a few feet to the side and waited.
Not two minutes after I left the table, I was startled by a shout.
"SIR" (I hate being called sir, formality I guess, but how could she know that?)
I went back to the table to attend to the meaningless detail she felt compelled to cry out over and I took care of her need. It also made me think a bit. We really do not feel free, do we?
Why would free people feel compelled to make demands upon other free people? Of course, I am not talking about the job itself. I do not mind fetching an extra side of dressing or filling up water. I do mind being shouted at and spoken down to. It just wears on you, I suppose.
If we really believed we were free, we would value others as more important than ourselves. We could properly see our brothers and sisters in the light of who they are. They were made to be free in Jesus Christ, whether they are a waiter, a mechanic, a professor, a housewife. We were all made to be free in the One free God who has revealed himself in Jesus Christ.
This is not just freedom from sin (Though it is), nor is it just freedom from wrath (though it is). This is freedom to properly see every person as loved and infinitely valued by God.
Can you imagine how the world would change if we believed we were free?
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That's a great post. So true... If we really know that we're free, then we'll be free to love others as free people--or as people who are to be loved and pointed to the Great Liberator.
ReplyDeleteThanks dude. Has to be a freedom from ourselves just as much as it is from "sin", right?
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