In 1927 Justice Brandeis wrote that our founders believed that the final end of the state was to make all of us free to develop our faculties. “They believed liberty to be the secret of happiness and courage to be the secret of liberty.” We found few in our society who would challenge this assumption as we celebrated the Fourth of July. Indeed, as we watched the celebration on the grounds of the Capitol — A Capitol Fourth – waving our American flags (distributed by volunteers to those of us who forgot to bring our own ), we could not help being caught up in feelings of pride. This is what the founders wanted to bequeath to us. This is what so many Americans fought and died for.
One of my favorite authors, Albert Camus, provides a much needed commentary on post- modern life when he writes: “Can one be a saint if God does not exist? That is the only concrete problem I know of today.” In a time of war, it seems to me that this question looms large. What is the point? That, indeed, is a concrete problem for today. We may also ask, along with Camus, what does it mean to be a saint? That seems to me to be an equally important and related question.
Standing at the heart of all such questions is the idea of freedom. When we speak of freedom we all too often restrict its meaning to being able to do whatever we wish. What we do not consider are the consequences to others and to ourselves. True freedom never enslaves us. Paul writes in Romans of powerful forces at work within all of us. Who has not experienced with Paul the failure of the will? “I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.” (Rom. 7:18b-19) The Apostle Paul writes in Romans that we are slaves to whom we obey. He also writes that we know to whom we are enslaved. Paul identifies this dominating force as sin. Although our post-modern world vehemently rejects the very idea of sin, our conscience does not lie to us. Rather, it excuses or accuses us according to our actions. This is the common experience, whether we acknowledge it publicly or wrestle privately with our regrets and self-accusations “O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” Paul answers his own question with the rousing affirmation: “I thank God –through Jesus Christ our Lord!”
For Paul, the only truly free person is one who, recognizing the person and authority of Jesus Christ, has given himself to something greater than himself. In so doing, he chooses life. Paul’s letter to the Romans is nothing less than an affirmation of life. Amidst all of the conflicting demands of life and the conflicting calls for loyalty, one stands out. Paul unflinchingly chooses God. In so doing, he affirms for us that God has freed us to live, freed us to make mistakes, freed us to begin again and again, if necessary. There are, indeed, second chances, and third, and fourth, and fifth. That is the meaning of grace.
It does take courage to live. Justice Brandeis was correct, without courage there is no liberty. But without faith there is neither liberty nor the courage to sustain it. Cynicism is the influenza of our age. Who can resist the temptation to turn a jaded eye on all that we see? Only the person of faith. Albert Camus wrote in Actuelles, “In the midst of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.” For me, the invincible summer emerges through the eyes of faith. Courage is indeed the guarantor of liberty. But acts of courage are only possible in those whose eyes have beheld something greater than themselves. To be a person of courage is to live life to its fullest, to be willing to step out in faith, to be willing to make mistakes. A life thus lived is one of courage and liberty, and a life thus conceived is lived amidst an invincible summer. That is what is meant by a life of faith. That is what it means to be a saint. That is the gift of God, and for this, thanks be to God.
