How Slavery Frees Us

It was beautiful and creepy at the same time. We walked the pristine grounds for three hours, watching swans sail on the pond, wandering down row upon row of Camellias in their final bloom, strolling around manicured lawns and rose gardens surrounding the original Middleton Plantation house.Under the oaks facing the river, a string quartet warmed up for a wedding.

Such a serene setting. Such an unlikely place for injustice and brutality.

We knew if the land could speak, it must have some chilling tales to tell. The swamps thick with cypress trees, the clumps of cane, the river and the rice fields, the ancient oaks laced with Spanish moss … what were they witness to? What injustices happened here?

Whose blood cries out from this ground?

    I found myself disinterested in how the white people lived. No fascination about how often they held tea parties, where their silks came from, or what kind of music they enjoyed.All I wanted to know –  and yet I didn’t want to know – is how the Africans lived.

What did a day look like for the slaves in this place? Were they able to hold on to some traditions? Were their families kept intact, or were their children sold? Was the plantation owner kind, or cruel?

In the little chapel behind the main house, a placard informed us that slave owners liked it when their slaves got religion. It made them less likely to rebel.

Part of me felt relieved that likely some of these slaves found eternal hope in Christ. The other part of me burned with anger to think white slave owners used the gospel to further their power-mongering.

    Days after we came home, we watched “12 Years a Slave.” More anger. A sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I can’t find the words.What gets me is that so many whites, even if they weren’t personally cruel, were unwilling to take an honest look at a system which benefited them at the expense of others.

Would I have been any different?

Human beings are capable of great cruelty and selfishness.

Oddly enough, it takes slavery to free us from the insolent demands of our wayward hearts.

Only when Jesus becomes the Master and Overseer of our souls do we find relief from the tyranny of self. Only in submission to his will can we cease striving for control. Only under his lordship do we find refuge from the sin that so easily besets us.

Some of the Africans who endured a lifetime of slavery were free on the inside, bound for eternal reward. Many a slave owner was a captive bound for eternal torment.

Jesus, Master, spare us from ourselves, so we can honor you and treat others justly.