The Freedom of Responsibility
“The more boundaries you set, the more freedom you have.”
That’s a quote from Nadia Boulanger, the renowned composition teacher. She was coaching Quincy Jones, telling him to explore and define different music styles and then create within them. In recounting this, Q said, “I didn’t want to hear that, man. But she’s right.”
Boundaries create security. Good parents recognize that a disciplined child is a happy child; an indulged child, insecure. Robert Frost said it poetically of his neighbor, “Good fences make good neighbors.”
Truly great thinkers build bridges between fields of study—economics, sociology, theology, philosophy, etc.—by recognizing and valuing each field’s contributions without compromise. Compromise muddies, integration makes a concert.
To paraphrase Boulanger: You can do more with a jazz big band than you can do with a jazz trio because there are more boundaries, i.e., instruments, to build bridges between.
The human will is a boundary. Just outside one edge of this boundary is milquetoast—the lack of will. Just outside the other edge is rape—the violation of will. Viktor Frankl talked about the space in between stimulus and response, a moment every person possesses no matter the circumstance, an opportunity defined by freedom: the ability to choose your response—your response-ability. The power of that moment is rooted in will: the power and privilege to seize responsibility and make a decision.
Frankl was a survivor of the Holocaust and came to his conviction while naked, awaiting death; his life work destroyed, and his family presumed dead. Even in that grim setting, he saw the impenetrable boundary of his will, his ability to respond, and his responsibility to do so. “The one thing you can’t take away from me,” Frankl said, “is the way I choose to respond to what you do to me. The last of one’s freedoms is to choose one’s attitude in any given circumstance.”
A happier example: I asked Dianne to marry me a few years back. Had I not recognized her independence, I would not have asked; I would have taken, or forced her, and been guilty of abuse, kidnap, and rape. But, she agreed. Now we are two, independent people—individuals—living together in a constant experiment of integration called marriage. We fight sometimes, when we are trying to reconcile our boundaries. But the longer we live together, the more we recognize and define our boundaries, individuality, and unique contributions to life and the richer and freer our lives together are.
I have boundaries. Dianne has boundaries. You have boundaries. All are anchored in respect and managed by responsibility.
Further, God has boundaries. Although He understands and tolerates affronts to His boundaries—largely due to His self-confidence—God does have boundaries He values, and like any other healthy relationship, He invites us to explore His boundaries and enjoy freedom.
God refuses to exploit His omnipotence and run slipshod over the boundary of your volitional freedom. Thus, His limitation on miracles, i.e., the undoing of your poor choices, or protecting you from the effects of a fallen world, or being affected by other’s poor choices. At a fundamental level, God respects your freedom of choice. He endows you with the privilege of responsibility to decide whether you will go it alone apart from Him or in concert with Him throughout life and into eternity.
If God disregarded or diminished your freedom of choice, then your compliance would actually be gained by abuse and manipulation—the rape of your will. True relationship would be invalidated, tainted, suspect; a delusion seated in power, not willful reciprocity.
God values the freedom of your response far too much to diminish your volition with His power. If God’s highest motivation was power, He would infringe upon your will to gain what He wants. But if God’s primary aspiration is relational, then the highest good for all concerned is that He offers you an invitation to connect that is anchored in mutual respect.
As I noted in my last book, Rigorous Grace, there are approximately 1500 imperative statements in the New Testament. An imperative statement is an important statement of intent. So, the Great Commission, “Go therefore into all the world…,” is an imperative statement. “Set your mind on things above…,” is an imperative statement. “Consider yourself dead to sin, but alive to God,” is an imperative statement.
As far as the author (or speaker) is concerned, an imperative statement is a force of grammar saying, “For your wellbeing, and for the benefit of all that is of value and merit, it is of utmost importance that you choose and act. Failing to act creates peril to your wellbeing.”
But here’s the rub with imperative statements: Grammatically, an imperative statement is classed among the speculative moods even though it is stated with the utmost force. What the author or speaker intends is clear and imperative, but whether you act or not is uncertain and remains to be seen.
It is true that the riches of God are yours through Jesus Christ. But it is also true that with this reality of faith there is the necessity to engage and implement your belief with action. Since the dawn of grace there has been the perversion of legalism, i.e., the attempt to improve upon or to supplement the completed work of Jesus with action that will improve your standing with God. Unless the finished work of Christ is a myth, it’s not possible to improve upon what is finished and complete.
Yet faith put into practice is essential, imperative to the Gospel. If this were not the case, there wouldn’t be 1500 imperatives to action in the New Testament. But faith-in-action is not an imperative to improve upon your acceptance with God. Rather, implementing your faith is imperative so that your faith is powerful beyond belief and Christ is demonstrated to be relevant to all aspects of life.
The Holy Spirit will empower you, guide you, and coach your understanding of what it means to be a child of God. Jesus will live His life through you. Because of Him, your relationship with God is secure.
Still, Scripture states, “Work out your salvation” (Phil. 2:12). This imperative is not saying that you must work to establish your salvation. It is telling you that it is to your advantage and wellbeing that you understand how your salvation works. Figure it out. Study your faith. Implement. Analyze. Critique. Learn from your mistakes. Endeavor to trust. Not to improve what can’t be improved upon, but to comprehend how magnificent your receipt of the Gospel is and what its implications are for each day.
Grasping in depth the grace of God is imperative to your wellbeing. Choosing to engage with God is the power of your ability to respond.
The question is: Will you engage your faith or will you disengage?