People of faith have been telling stories of freedom for a very long time. The stories of the liberation of the people of Israel from slavery in Egypt have existed in written form for thousands of years. The oldest surviving manuscripts date back to around 250 BCE, and it is commonly believed that written versions of the story existed before these were preserved. The majority of contemporary scholars date the composition of the first books of the Hebrew scriptures to around the 5th century BCE.

The events that they report are much older than the written stories. The slavery of the people of Israel might align with the reign of Pharaoh Rameses II, around 1250 BCE. It could be even more ancient. The books of Kings in the bible report that Solomon began building the Temple 480 years after the Exodus, so that the Exodus could have occurred as early as 1446 BCE.

However you count the years, the stories are ancient. We have been telling them for thousands of years. Somewhere along the way, although we don’t know precisely when, a tradition developed of telling the stories in the first person. Instead of talking about those people long ago, many people recall the events as being about us. “When we were slaves in Egypt,” begins one of the contemporary liturgies. We treat the ancient stories with deep respect in part because they are so relevant to the lives we live today. We believe that the stories have much to teach us about how to live in the present generation. We teach our children and grandchildren not just to preserve the ancient texts, but also to provide them with resources that they might live lives of freedom.

Freedom, however, is a complex concept. Our ancient stories teach us that our people have not always gotten things right when it comes to freedom. Our stories report that Abram and Sarai left the lands of their ancestors in search of freedom and a future. Along the way, their lives became entangled in a lie to Pharaoh about the nature of their relationship. Later their lives are made complex by a son born to a slave. Eventually, another son is born to them. His story becomes complex when his twin sons struggle over inheritance. One of them has children with four different women in search of love and legacy. Those children sell one of their siblings into slavery, but he works his way into the favor of his captors and a position of power. Driven by famine to the land where he lived, his brothers and their children eventually became enslaved. Moses, who was born into the extended family but raised as a child of the powerful ruling family, leads the people from slavery to freedom. Still, they don’t recognize the freedom and long for a return to Egypt. They wander in the wilderness for a generation and experiment with idol worship in part because they don’t know how to live as free people.

The stories are complex. The summary above doesn’t begin to explore all the nuances and twists of the plot. Throughout all these ancient stories, a theme of slavery and freedom prevails. The people long for freedom, but wrestle with how to live as free people.

Those stories have much to teach us about freedom. It is a word and a concept that is routinely misused and misunderstood in our country today. There are a lot of people who believe that their freedom is increased through the oppression of others. Historian Timothy Snyder, author of the bestseller On Tyranny, writes that the concept of freedom has been distorted to make us all less free. He makes a distinction between “freedom from” and “freedom to.” Negative freedom, the kind of freedom that is about being against things, is a trap. It is reflected in the popular sentiment that individual freedom is freedom from government, freedom from regulation, and freedom from laws. The result is the deconstruction of government that we are witnessing under the current administration. Dismantling government does not result in freedom. When the government becomes dysfunctional, it can’t provide for the basic needs of the people.

Removing restrictions on air and water pollution results in less freedom for future generations, who are forced to live with the consequences of pollution. Removing vaccine mandates results in more illness and less freedom.

The current administration uses the word “freedom,” but detains people based on the color of their skin or the language they speak. It sends innocent people to a foreign gulag based on tattoos they have. It sends military troops into cities against the wishes of local leaders. It removes experienced, dedicated, and competent public servants and eliminates essential services, including food assistance and healthcare. It says, “you don’t need government,” but uses government to oppress people. It claims efficiency, but produces record deficits.

To those familiar with the ancient stories of our people, these are familiar stories. The prophets warned about empire. They explained how the treatment of orphans, widows, and immigrants was inextricably linked to the well-being of the wider community. They warned of the corruption of kings and the dangers of freedom “from.”

The ancient texts not only warn about “freedom from,” but teach about positive freedom: “freedom to.” Real freedom comes from choosing faithfulness to one God. It values community and understands that the freedom of one is connected to the freedom of all. You can’t become free on your own. Freedom requires cooperation. Freedom comes from understanding that you belong to a multi-generational community. Freedom does not come from the accumulation of wealth or power. It comes from faithfulness and sacrifice. People become free not by defining what they reject, but by discovering with whom and to whom they can be faithful. Freedom is found in promises kept.

However, as the stories of our people clearly illustrate, the lessons of freedom have to be learned over and over again. We easily stray from the path that leads to freedom. We frequently make choices that lead to tyranny. We still need the old texts because even after thousands of years, we have not yet learned the lessons they teach.