Let Freedom Ring (part deux)

For those of you who don't know, I'm taking a thought-provoking, discussion-catalyzing, nearly mind-boggling course called "Spiritual But Not Religious: American Spirituality Past and Present." 

So far, we've talked about Oprah, Kanye West, Jim Carrey... Macklemore and Mumford & Sons... the Olympics... Transcendentalism, individualism, Christian Science, New Thought...

On this blog, I'll be writing some of my thoughts and reactions to the class content.
Below is part of an essay I wrote for the class in response to the question, "when you think of spirituality, what do you think of?"

Liberty Bell

 

When I think of spirituality, I think of freedom. I was once a slave. A slave to sin, the evil desires of my heart, the worldly ambitions and greed that can entangle the mind so easily. When I was young, I wanted to be a princess or an actress; in other words, I wanted to be rich and famous. When I was young, jealousy of others sparked a vengeful fire. She had better (i.e. Abercrombie-branded) clothes, he lived in a huge mansion, they were popular. Even as a teenager, I felt trapped; I would always work so hard at school, staying up late to finish that AP Literature essay on Wuthering Heights, or cramming Calculus problems during lunch. No matter how much effort I put in, sometimes I did not get the result I wanted. Grades consumed me. A money-making career was my sole pursuit. I was once a slave to worldly desires. I was once a slave to my self-deprecation and selfishness. As William James writes in The Varieties of Religious Experience, the thoughts of mankind tend to dwell on “his deserts, his helplessness, his incompleteness” (James 1902). I know I have thought of these things many times.

However, life radically changed when Jesus pulled me out from the depths of the darkest pockets of my soul and freed me. When I think of spirituality, I think of freedom. Freedom from death. Freedom from my very self. Freedom to live not for myself, but for Jesus. Freedom to look at fellow mankind, recognize our shared humanity, and love. The day before I returned to Brown from winter break, I was baptized. In baptism, going down into the water symbolizes how Jesus died for me because of my sins. I recognize that I was once a slave to sin… but then I rise up from the water, symbolizing how Christ rose up from the dead and conquered death for us so that we may have new life in Him. In the Book of Romans, the apostle Paul writes, “We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.” My baptism did not save me; it is just a proclamation of my faith.  In fact, nothing I do can save me.  No matter how good I try to be, I will always fall short… It is by God’s grace that Jesus Christ rescued me and freed me. Spirituality is freedom.