The Risk of Freedom
“He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives . . . to set free those who are downtrodden” Luke 4:18 quoting Isaiah 61:2
Release . . Set Free – The imagery of forgiveness rises to priority position in the mission of Jesus. “Release” and “set free” are both instances of aphesis, our word for forgiveness. Forgiveness means freedom. Jesus comes not simply to resolve the legal issue of guilt before the Holy Judge of all Mankind. He comes to break the bonds of anything that hold us back from fellowship with the Father. Jesus lifts all the chains off the soul.
O, how marvelous! How wonderful! To be free, really free. But here’s the problem. I see the prison door ajar. I see the chains fall to the ground. Does that mean I can get up and walk away, at liberty to live without bonds? No. Now, at last, I am free to choose my slavery. I can sit with Paul in the dungeon, able to leave but choosing to stay.
Forgiveness risks the abuse of freedom for the sake of obedience.
Voluntary obedience is so important to the divine-human relationship that it is worth dying for. God does not demand my allegiance. He invites it. Jesus would have died on the cross even if not one single human being ever chose to accept the invitation because the essence of relationship with the Father is voluntary response. The Bible tells us what we can expect when we abuse this invitation, but it never forces us to respond. Forced response is compliance, not love. When I forgive as God forgives, I must risk as God risked. I act in order to demonstrate my invitation to relationship. I cannot forgive without the risk of rejection because forgiveness cannot demand. “Love does not take into account a wrong suffered”, says Paul. This is the vocabulary of forgiveness. This is risk: that you will trample on my grace, reject my invitation to relationship, refuse my offer of peace.
Your freedom is the paradoxical expression of my bondage for when I forgive, I take your guilt upon me and count it as nothing against you. Love does not keep score, says God. And who are we to say otherwise. How many times have we said to someone we claimed to love, “You did this” or “You were wrong” or “You made me do this”? How many times have we kept track of the personal affronts, the indiscretions, the unsympathetic acts? A record of wrongs. Yet God says that love does not count a wrong suffered. Love is forgiving before the wrong occurs. And if God forgives us, how can we allow our love to be tainted by pluses and minuses? Emotional bank accounts are not found in the institution of love.
