From the Pulpit: What does it mean to be free?

We have now reached the ninth week of “shutdown” in Massachusetts, and still there is an air of unreality to our situation. It is not like experiencing the trauma of flood, earthquake, or the outbreak of wildfires; nor is it like being under bombardment or assault by an enemy nation. In those cases, you can physically see, feel, or hear the danger, and maybe, if you’re lucky, flee with your loved ones to a safer area.

With this pandemic, you can neither see nor hear impending danger, and even if you could, there is nowhere to run to – one tries to stay safe by staying at home, avoiding crowds, and wearing a mask when one has to go out for groceries or other necessary items. For those of us who can telecommute, and have a safe and amiable home life, things are not so bad. But for individuals who were already living at the mercy of an abusive partner, parent or other relation before the shutdown started, things could hardly be worse. (Help is still available, though: one way you can find help, should you fall into this category, or know someone who needs help, is via the site https://janedoe.org/find_help/.)

I’m not sure if it is a coincidence or not, but I have noticed that a preponderance of the films and television series that I have been watching since the shutdown started have to do with the issues of captivity, danger, and the heroism that is necessary to help both oneself and others get to a situation of freedom and independence. Just after Passover (a holiday which evokes these issues) my family and I watched “Harriet,” the 2019 film about Harriet Tubman, the real-life “black Moses” who, after escaping from slavery herself, made 19 return trips to the South, helping over 300 enslaved people escape, never losing a single soul in the process.

More recently, I just finished streaming three seasons of “The Handmaid’s Tale,” inspired by Margaret Atwood’s 1985 novel of the same title. In this fictional story, set in the dystopian nation, “Gilead,” that has arisen out of civil war in the United States, the increasingly rare number of fertile women that still exist in the population have been seized and forced into sexual-procreative slavery, serving a small class of powerful, privileged couples who are unable to have children. After childbirth, the handmaid is transferred to another couple, separated from the child she has borne; additionally, many children who were born before the uprising have been taken away from their birth parents and given to this class of ruling elites. The main character, June, at first wants to escape to Canada to save her own life (and sanity) – but later comes to the decision that it is not enough for her to escape. She will not leave Gilead unless she can secure freedom for her daughter (born before “Gilead” arose); and not without attempting to save as many other children of other handmaids as she can, so that they will not have to grow up in this stiflingly oppressive regime.

Like Harriet Tubman, June follows the wisdom of her heart that tells her that true freedom is not simply about being able to go wherever you want, or having no one telling you what you can and cannot do. Instead, it is about finding the courage to do the right thing (even if at great risk), and about liberating and empowering others.

So for the past nine weeks I have been asking myself what it means to be “free.” Should one be “free” to go wherever one wants, to carry a gun in public places where people might be accidentally (or otherwise) shot, to not wear a mask, or not practice “social-distancing”? Or does “freedom” mean something else?

I am sad to say that there is very little written about individual freedom in the Hebrew Bible. (Most verses that speak of freedom or liberation are about the freedom of the nation of Israel from foreign domination, or, as in the case of the Passover story, of the Israelite people’s liberation from the harsh servitude to Pharaoh.) There is a comment in an early Rabbinic text (Pirkei Avot 6:2) that suggests that the Ten Commandments were not engraved in stone in order to restrict us, but rather that the word “engraved” (charut) should be read as cheirut –“freedom,” suggesting that it is in being connected to God’s word that we can be truly free. I also recall a reported teaching from a Jewish teacher who lived in the early part of the first century of the Common Era: “Know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

Now I am not a Christian, but even as a Jew something in this teaching resonates with me, for I believe that freedom is something that cannot be secured once and for all, but must be pursued every day. I believe that we become responsible, “free” adults when we do our best to seek out the truth about what is going on in our world. This means devoting ourselves to understanding our proper relationship both to other human beings, and to the planet. I believe that when we give ourselves over to the service of loving and liberating others, we liberate ourselves as well.

I know that it seems strange to talk about “freedom” at a time when we are enduring so many restrictions in order to prevent the spread of this deadly virus. But when we begin to see freedom as the acceptance of responsibility for the happiness and empowerment of all people, and not just for ourselves, when we begin to work together toward these goals, then we will stand at the forefront of liberation. God willing, that day will not be just a matter of “getting back to normal,” but the dawn of a new understanding of how we should all live with one another upon this earth.

Shoshana Brown serves as cantor and spiritual leader at Temple Beth El of Fall River.