13For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. 14For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

I was a junior in high school at the time, living in the suburbs of Philadelphia, and for the first time in that city ice hockey was all the rage. Until that time, ice hockey had been owned by the original six founding teams of the National Hockey League, the Red Wings and the Black Hawks and the Rangers and the Maple Leafs and, above all, the Montreal Canadians and the Boston Bruins. The Flyers were an expansion team, added to the NHL in 1967, and until that magical season, no one paid them much attention. But then onto the national scene broke the “Broad Street Bullies”, a team whose trademark was less elegant skating and more raw-boned power, less finesse with the blade and more drop-the-gloves brawling. Dave Schultz, the original “enforcer”, would proceed to rack up unprecedented TKOs and penalty minutes; Bob Kelly could barely skate, but sure could throw a check; Bobbie Clark, the Flyer’s hometown hero, was lauded at home as “scrappy” – fans from other cities tended to say “dirty;” the saying became truth that “Only Jesus Saves more than Bernie Parent”. The Flyers marched through the playoffs and then went up against the Bruins in the Stanley Cup final, facing the daunting task of taking on perhaps the best player ever to take the ice – Bobbie Orr – and then won the series 4-2.

There was going to be a huge victory parade, the likes of which Philadelphia had never seen. I begged and pleaded with my parents to let me go – you know the arguments, the same ones you used on your parents as a kid, the same ones your kids used on you – “everyone else is getting to go”, and “you never give me any freedom”, and “If you let me go I promise to never ask for anything else again.” You know the drill. At any rate, my parents reluctantly gave me permission, and I was free to go with my classmates who also cut school to go a parade along with 1,000,000 or so other orange-clad fanatics.

This was one of my first tastes of freedom, and as such profoundly influenced my understanding of freedom for years to come. My Philadelphia freedom was freedom “from” – freedom from parental oversight and control, freedom from rules, freedom from that which would hold me back.

Today we as a nation celebrate Independence Day, and much of the day’s celebrations are similarly wrapped up in collective memory of how we as a group of colonies won our freedom from domination by a tyrannical English king and parliament, how we gained our liberty from taxation without representation, how we achieved freedom from foreign control of our economy, our politics, and our domestic policies. For many, our celebrations of Independence Day start and end with freedom from, just as my teenage Philadelphia freedom started and ended with freedom from as well.

It is this concept of independence as freedom from that seems to lie at the heart of the latest movement of note on our national political landscape, the Tea Party movement, and which seems to provide much of the impetus for the anger and even rage that is one of the movement’s hallmarks, that is evident at many of its rallies and meetings, and which finds outlet at town-hall-style forums. While the Tea Party movement, as a movement, is not a political party with a defined set of policies, its central themes seem to revolve around this idea of independence as freedom from – that we ought to be free from government involvement in health care (except when it comes to Medicare, which it ought to leave alone); that we ought to be free from unbalanced budgets (but also free from taxation to balance it); that individuals ought to be free to take care of themselves (but leave Social Security alone). Despite the inherent contradictions within this philosophy, at bottom there is an appeal to individual opinion, individual autonomy, individual choice. It is all about freedom from.

But the original Philadelphia freedom – the freedom that was proclaimed to the world on July 4, 1776 – was much more than simply freedom from. Freedom from was only half the story, and if freedom from was all that there was, then surely that cracked Liberty Bell would have been an appropriate symbol for this political experiment. For the signers of that radical Declaration, freedom was about much more than just getting George the Third off their backs and his hands out of their pocketbooks. Freedom was also freedom for – freedom for the purpose of establishing a framework for society that promoted life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, that worked to establish mutual security, that aimed to build up the general welfare. And in furtherance of that common goal, they pledged to each other their lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor.

If freedom is very much on our minds today, it was also very much on the mind of Paul the Apostle. Paul, you will remember, was a Jew, and as a Jew he carried in his heart that fundamental, foundational account of his people that was all about freedom . Once, the Jews had been no people; once, they were slaves in bondage to Pharaoh down in Egypt; once, they had no hope and no future. But God had heard their cries of distress, and with a powerful and purposeful arm had brought them up out of slavery to freedom and new life in the Promised Land. But that was not the end of the story – for God covenanted with the people to be their God, and they for their part covenanted to be God’s people and keep God’s commandments. Freed from Pharaoh, they freely decided to bind themselves to the God who had liberated them.

Paul understood that the death and resurrection of Jesus was all about freedom, freedom not just for the Jews, but for the Greeks, that is, the rest of the world, as well. Jesus Christ had won our freedom from the deadliest of foes, from the power of sin and death, and transferred us to a new domain, to a new sphere of power where the Spirit prevails and where Christ is Lord. We have been brought up out of bondage in Egypt to Pharaoh, to recall the foundational story of the Jews, and brought to a new and promised land.

And yet, while we have been freed, we have been freed to become slaves once again. Rock troubadour Bob Dylan had a hit some time ago in which he sang “You gotta serve somebody.” The truth is, we all choose whom we serve – God, or mammon; the one who brings us up out of bondage to new life, or idols such as wealth, popularity, security, sensual pleasures, or the Caesars who promise the world in return for unquestioning obedience. We have freedom from, yes, but with that comes freedom’s necessary counterpart, freedom for. We have been freed, Paul tells us, not for self-enjoyment, not for license to do whatever we will, not for moral anarchy, but for a purpose – we have been freed from the power of sin to become slaves to one another. Why? Because, as Paul quotes Jesus and his greatest commandment, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

Which brings us back to where we started, to those Flyers and to that Philadelphia Freedom. For we recall the meaning of that name William Penn bestowed upon that fledgling city to be built on the banks of the Delaware River – Philadelphia, or “The City of Brotherly Love.” True Philadelphia Freedom is not simply freedom from external authority, freedom to do what one will, freedom to pursue our own self-gratification and personal agendas – true Philadelphia freedom, the freedom bestowed upon us by the One who told us we ought to love one another – true Philadelphia freedom is all about working together for the common welfare, even to the extent of mutually pledging our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.

Remember the true meaning of Philadelphia Freedom, and this Independence Day will be a blessed day indeed.