the fourth of july

The Witness of Freedom

BY LORENZO ALBACETE

The recent celebration of the fourth of July demonstrated again how much freedom of liberty remains the highest value prized by Americans. Asked to define what freedom means, however, Americans define it diversely. Can we ever agree on what exactly freedom implies, or is it bound to be a fluid idea to be redefined again and again by different generations and people?
As with all other ideas that touch so closely upon our convictions about what it means to be human, the point of departure for an adequate reflection on it should be personal experience. Anything else would mean to surrender to the opinions of others what in fact defines us as human persons.
Freedom, therefore, is what I experience when I feel free. (How’s that for depth?) Perhaps the first experience of freedom we think about is freedom of choice, that is, not to be bound by any constraints. However, we all have to admit that having no constraints doesn’t always make us feel free. I may still feel terribly lonely, and wonder whether I should not perhaps give up some of my freedom in order to become involved with a friend or companion. But why should I see this as giving up some of my freedom? Why not conclude that what I feel when I feel fully free cannot be narrowed to the experience of freedom of choice without constraint? At the very least, then, I can say that freedom of choice is a kind of limited freedom, an imperfect freedom, less than what I desire when I want to experience myself as totally free.
There is another problem with defining freedom entirely in terms of freedom of choice. St Augustine recognized this problem when he said that we always want to choose the immediate delectatio victrix, that which attracts us most, the “winning delight,” so to speak. But this means that I am not really free to choose, that my freedom is entirely a function of the immediate attraction of a course of action, which could deceive me as to what will really make me happy and thus prevent me from choosing something else. There is an experience of freedom, though, that seems to be always adequate. I feel free when my needs are satisfied. Satisfied means “made full” or “satiated.” Made full means totally perfect, that is, all my needs are fulfilled in all their dimensions and manifestations. Freedom, therefore, is the capacity for perfection.
But we know very well that nothing ever satisfies us in such a way that we’ll never desire more, or something else. This will be so, no matter how long we live. Our hearts desire a fulfillment that this life cannot provide. That is what we mean when we talk about the “infinite” or the “eternal.” Eternal doesn’t mean time that doesn’t end. It designates something that is simply not time as we know it. Infinity doesn’t mean what it means in mathematics. It means something of an entirely different quality than what is available now, something absolutely, perfectly fulfilling, filling up my entire capacity for it, and thus making me feel fully free. Freedom, therefore, is my capacity for the infinite, for the eternal.
As a result, my freedom is enhanced by those particular choices that truly move me closer to the infinite, and it is diminished by those choices that move me away from it.
The problem, of course, is that the path that leads me to infinity does not always appear as the most attractive. The most attractive, in this case, will not correspond to what my heart really desires. So we need to turn to our deepest convictions, tested by reason, and born by our experience of the events that awakened in us the desire for infinity and a passion for our ultimate destiny. We need to turn to those concrete realities that we recognize as embodying the “memory” of the event that disclosed our infinite destiny. For us, of course, this is the “memory” sustained in the sacramental life of the Church, the memory of Christ who is the revelation of our destiny, celebrated in the sacred liturgy, and expressed in the doctrine of the faith. This is how the experience of the Church becomes the custodian of our freedom, the authentic home of the freedom by which this country has wished to be judged, and to which we will offer the service of our witness.