"The Exodus from Egypt occurs in every human being, in every era, in every year, and in every day." — Reb Nachman of Breslov
This weekend marks the beginning of the Jewish “Festival of Freedom,” or Passover. For 7 days, Jews around the world will celebrate their freedom from enslavement in Egypt with food, storytelling and family. While these are difficult days for many Jews, this holiday is especially meaningful because it is focused on the joy — and the responsibility — of freedom.
Freedom is a big word these days. Whether we are talking about freedom of speech, freedom from fear of arrest or detainment, freedom of choice, freedom from oppression or war, freedom from tyranny, or the freedom that comes from economic prosperity, everyone seems to be demanding freedom…and the joy that comes with it.
But what is often missing in the discussion of freedom is the responsibility that goes hand in hand with joy. In the story of Exodus, Moses is often quoted as saying simply, “Let my people go!” But most people forget the second part of God’s demand, Va’yaavduni “so that they may serve me.” The root of the word, avad, is the same as avodah, the biblical concept for both work and worship, or what Rabbi Deena Cowans calls, “Holy Labor:” the work of freedom.
That’s why when the Israelites are finally across the Red Sea, the first thing that happens is the giving of the commandments at Sinai, the building of the Tabernacle, and the execution of the Covenant between the Israelites and God. In other words, God says: “OK, now you’re free, but here’s your work. This is how you serve me.”
At first, the unruly band of freed slaves balk at being obligated to anyone or anything: after all, they’re free!! While Moses is talking to God, they build a golden calf and have a big party. But God makes his point in a dramatic show of thunder and lightning: “You want freedom? Here are your responsibilities: No more idols, no more behaving badly toward one another, and you have to rest on the Sabbath.” (and these were just the first 10!). This was a harsh wake-up call for a people who had finally tasted the sweet joy of liberation and just wanted to run wild, like a bunch of teenagers on the last day of school before summer.
“What, you mean I have to get a job for the summer if I want pocket money???? And there’s a curfew?????”
Yep. Sorry, but that was the deal. No free rides.
I have a theory: the reason God kept the Israelites in the desert for 40 years when they could have easily crossed into the Promised Land in a few days is because they had to learn how to be free. They had to get past the immediate gratification and joy of being released from slavery and learn that remaining free took work. That took time (a generation or two, which is how long it takes to forget being slaves), and God kept them wandering until they grew up (literally and figuratively) and were ready for the work and the responsibility that comes with freedom. They didn’t get the keys to the Promised Land until they were mature enough to handle it.
We’re still working on it.
Much of our current idea of freedom is, like the newly freed slaves, rather adolescent: self-centered, no rules, no guidelines, no costs. I can say what I want, do what I want, take what I want without consequences or consideration for the effect of my “freedom” on others.
Is it “freedom” to post hateful comments on social media that are hurtful to others? Is it “freedom” to call for the eradication of a group of people or their country? Is it “freedom” to destroy other people’s property in protest? To arrest people in the middle of the night and deport them for your own “safety?” I could go on, but I think you get the idea.
As the Israelites learned, that kind of “liberation” is hollow. Sooner or later, it has the opposite effect. In some cases, if your liberation comes at the cost of others’ freedom, you might actually end up being deprived of any freedom at all! Remember what happened when you stayed out past curfew as a teenager?
That’s why the freedom spoken of in the Passover story is a communal freedom and a communal responsibility: it isn’t just about my freedom to say, be, or do what I want free from anyone’s control, but the freedom to work towards creating a better world for all. That’s what the 10 Commandments are all about. The true joy of freedom is found not just in being free from oppression or tyranny, but through consideration of others and working together to create freedom for all.
This is the ultimate theme of Passover: our freedom is tied to everyone and everything else. They aren’t separate, so we have a responsibility to others. The Mishnah says, and it is repeated at the Passover seder (ritual dinner), that each year, each person is obligated to see themselves as if they personally were freed from Egypt to serve God and the community. In other words, we each have a personal responsibility to work for the freedom of all. As the Passover Haggadah teaches (borrowed famously by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.), “No one is free until we are all free” or “If one person is oppressed, I am not free.” Where does my freedom begin and another’s end?
Yes, it’s great to be free and to demand freedom for ourselves, however our true joy comes not just from our own liberation, but our Holy Labor, working to create freedom for all. (And, by the way, this isn’t just a Passover idea: the Buddhist Bodhisattva vow is the same thing!).
Anything else isn’t freedom at all.
It’s just another form of tyranny.
“Freedom is nothing but a chance to be better.” — Albert Camus