The Lens of the Wounded

There is a difference between being free and living in reaction to what once bound us.

Sometimes we have been encumbered for so long by rules, regulations, expectations, traditions, and the failures of people that when we finally experience freedom, we want nothing to do with anything that resembles the place from which we came.

That response is understandable.

But is it always freedom?

Scripture tells us, “Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage.” (Galatians 5:1)

Christ does not call us into bondage. But neither does He call us into bitterness.

There is such a thing as religious bondage. Jesus confronted religious leaders who elevated human tradition above the commandments of God. “Full well ye reject the commandment of God, that ye may keep your own tradition.” (Mark 7:9)

Rules can become masters. Ritual can become empty. Leadership can become controlling. Tradition can be elevated until people are serving a system rather than serving God.

But religion itself is not evil.

James wrote, “Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this…” (James 1:27)

The problem comes when the form replaces the substance and the institution becomes more important than the One it was intended to serve.

But there is another danger on the opposite side.

We can become so disgusted with the misuse of something that we begin despising the thing itself.

Sometimes we think we are walking in freedom when we are actually living in reaction.

A believer can worship God in a living room. The early church gathered in homes. “Likewise greet the church that is in their house.” (Romans 16:5)

But a living room is not inherently freer than a church building. Wherever people gather consistently, some form of order will eventually exist.

Order is not the enemy of the Spirit.

“Let all things be done decently and in order.” (1 Corinthians 14:40)

Neither spontaneity nor structure is automatically evidence of spiritual freedom. The question is what governs it.

And this principle reaches beyond the church.

Marriage was established by God. “Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.” (Genesis 2:24)

Yet marriage can be terribly misused. People can manipulate, dominate, betray, and wound one another within something God intended for covenant, companionship, faithfulness, and love.

But man’s corruption of marriage does not make marriage corrupt. In the same way, man’s corruption of church order does not make the gathering of the church corrupt.

Perhaps one of the enemy’s most effective strategies is not simply to corrupt what God establishes, but to make us despise what God established because of the corruption we experienced within it.

If we are not careful, we can begin confusing the abuse with the design.

We leave legalism and become suspicious of accountability.

We leave empty ritual and become suspicious of order.

We leave controlling leadership and become suspicious of spiritual authority.

We experience a destructive marriage and become suspicious of covenant.

We escape bondage and begin calling anything that resembles what hurt us bondage too.

That is why we must examine ourselves.

Can I recognize goodness in something that has wounded me?

Can another believer worship differently from me without stirring anger in me?

Am I constantly defining my present freedom by what I escaped?

Can I distinguish conviction from contempt?

Has my freedom made me more loving, peaceful, patient, gentle, and merciful—or simply more angry at what I left behind?

“Looking diligently lest any man fail of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you…” (Hebrews 12:15)

Bitterness is called a root because much of it remains underneath the surface. Sometimes it even disguises itself as righteous indignation.

There is righteous anger. There are things we should confront. Jesus rebuked hypocrisy and exposed religious corruption.

But righteous indignation and unresolved bitterness are not the same thing.

One of the hardest questions we can ask ourselves is this:

If God showed me that some of what I have called righteous indignation is actually unresolved anger, would I surrender it?

Freedom does not require us to defend corrupt systems. Neither does freedom require us to despise institutions God established.

True freedom allows us to separate God’s design from man’s distortion of it.

The enemy does not always have to destroy what God established. Sometimes he only has to convince us that the structure is the enemy of the virtue it was intended to preserve.

Then we begin wanting fellowship without enduring commitment, spirituality without accountability, love without covenant, and community without order.

That is not the liberty Christ purchased for us.

“For, brethren, ye have been called unto liberty; only use not liberty for an occasion to the flesh, but by love serve one another.” (Galatians 5:13)

We do not have to return to bondage to honor what God established.

We also do not have to remain angry at bondage to prove that we are free from it.

Sometimes the greatest evidence of freedom is that we no longer need to fight everything that reminds us of the cage.

We can simply walk free.