Within the vast history of the first church I served were stories about it being a stop on the Underground Railroad. As runaway slaves made their desperate flight to northern New England and Canada, some were hidden in the home of Rev. Habijah Weld, the church's pastor. Even today, there is evidence in that old house of the tunnels that were dug just in case bounty hunters got wind of the fact that slaves were hidden there.

They say those slaves used to sit in the balcony at the old First Congregational Church. The sanctuary pews - with their white doors and horsehair-stuffed cushions - were purchased and owned by the members. The free seats were in the balcony. Nothing more than crude benches, really. They ran along either side of the sanctuary and joined in the back where the old tracker-action pipe organ - pumped by the young people - poured out its music every Sunday.

I like to imagine what the hymn-singing was like. The voices of freedom-seeking slaves struggling with the northern European marching hymns of white New Englanders. And - just maybe - the voices of caucasian New Englanders trying in vain to catch hold of the soulful melody of a spiritual:

Shoes. The very first thing taken away from Africans when captured by the slave traders. Shoes. Almost never provided by those who bought the slaves. Shoes. Taken away because you can't run very far without shoes.

Shoes have a lot to do with being free.

Why, even in the story of the exodus - the greatest freedom story of all time - you read about shoes.

In our Scripture reading today, the Hebrews are about to be set free from the bondage of Egypt. Pharaoh is going to get what he deserves for all the pain and indignity he's inflicted upon God's people. The angel of Death is in the land. The firstborn of every human and every animal will be struck down. But the Hebrews will be passed over - protected by the sacrifice of a lamb whose blood is painted on the doorposts of their homes. Inside, they eat the Passover meal - the roasted lamb, the unleavened bread, the bitter herbs. As they eat, they are fully dressed. Ready to leave for the Promised Land.

Oh yes, God tells the Hebrew people to eat the Passover meal with their coats on, with their shirts tucked in, with their staff in their hand…and did you notice it?

You see freedom has a lot to do with shoes!

Now what strikes me about this instruction from God - for the people to put their shoes on - is how it contrasts with the beginning of the exodus story. Do you remember? Moses is keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro. One day, up on the hillside, he encounters a mysterious burning bush. And a voice calls from the burning bush, "Moses! Moses!"

And Moses draws near to investigate. But the voice speaks again. "Don't come any closer for the ground upon which you are standing is holy ground. First, take off your shoes!"

Shoes. They are on either side of the greatest freedom story ever told. And the simple message I want to share with you this morning is this: if you want to find true freedom in life, if you want to discover the freeing power of God in your life, you've got to learn when to take your shoes OFF, and when to put your shoes ON!

Many years ago, a friend of mine was killed in an airplane crash. He was a bright young man whose wedding I had performed. We got to know each other pretty well, not only because of the wedding, but because he was finishing up work on an advanced rating at the same time I was working on a private pilot's license. We used to run into each other quite often at the airport.

One day, I listened in on a conversation Gary was having with his commercial instructor. The teacher was encouraging him to develop some flexibility in his approach to flying. Gary was a guy who wanted to do everything by the numbers - always fly the landing approach at the same speed, the same power setting, the same amount of flaps, the same everything. But his instructor was insistent that every approach was different. You had to make adjustments for all the variable elements - the wind, the weight of the aircraft, the airport altitude, and so on.

But this was hard for Gary. Like many of us, he was the sort of person who depended upon rules. There needed to be a clearly prescribed way to do things.

And that's probably what got him killed that night flying out of Denver. The National Transportation Safety Board concluded that he failed to maintain altitude, resulting in contact with the ground. Those of you who fly know that, in mountainous regions, there are lots of problems with changeable things like wind shear and density altitude. You need to be able to make adjustments.

Now, it seems to me that many people approach their lives as Christians in this dangerous way. They want to reduce it to a rigid set of rules and principles that universally apply to all situations in all times and places. In a sense, they want to know whether they should put their shoes on. Or whether they should take their shoes off.

But did you notice how the God of the exodus responds to Moses as he seeks guidance for freedom from the bondage of Egypt? Why, in one holy moment, God says, "Take your shoes off!" And in the next equally-as-holy moment, God says, "Put your shoes on!"

And unless Moses is able to discern when to do one and when to do the other, he and the Hebrews will never break free of Egypt.

I once knew a woman who was inhumanly battered and bruised by her husband. He would beat the daylights out of her, and she'd run away. But a few days later, she'd always go home. Why?

Because she believed it was the Christian way. She believed the clear, shoes-on position was St. Paul's injunction for "wives to submit to their husbands". Like many of us, this poor woman desperately wanted some specific instruction upon which she could relate to her husband. She thought she found it in a proof-text verse here and a proof-text verse there from Scripture. And all it got her was more abuse. Frankly, I think Jesus would have told her to take those shoes off. I think Jesus would have told her to call the cops. And I think Jesus would have told her to get as far away from that man as she could. What do you think? Shoes on? Or shoes off?

Unless you can discern when to do one and when to do the other, you can't really gain the power you need to build truly healthy relationships with people. And the same is true with God.

At last February's Stetson Pastor's School, Walter Brueggemann began one of his lectures by booming the question, "How many Presbyterians does it take to change a lightbulb?" Then he answered the question saying, "Change the lightbulb? Why, my grandfather DONATED that lightbulb!"

Oh, the world is full of jokes about the silly rules-of-thumb we church people try to create and take so seriously! Rules about why my particular denomination is better than your particular denomination. Rules about who can come to the Communion table and who cannot. Rules about the kinds of hymns we feel are appropriate to sing - after all, church just isn't church unless we sing the great old hymns! Rules about whether its okay to clap in church or not to clap, to say "Amen!" or not say "Amen!", to get up and dance or to just sit there like a turnip. And church people have big fights over these things, as though there is a worship rulebook like the rules of golf that tell you when you can take a free drop, and when you can't. And seldom do we realize that God's answer is spread out all across the Bible - why, in true worship, sometimes you should sing, and sometimes you should shout. Sometimes you should dance, and sometimes you should fall flat on your face at the altar. Sometimes you should pray out loud, and sometimes you should keep your prayer to yourself. Sometimes you should make a joyful noise with drums and instruments of rhythm, and sometimes you should make quiet melody with the gentle strains of a harp. Sometimes you should express yourself, and sometimes you should be silent and simply listen.

Sometimes you put your shoes on for God. Sometimes, you take them off. And discerning when to do one and when to do the other is the secret to finding freedom and power in Christ!

You see, faith is not about reducing the complexities of life to a series of simple rules-of-thumb and commandments like the Pharisees tried to do. Rather, faith is about recognizing how complex life is, and learning instead to listen to God as he tries to lead you into his future.

As this Fall season begins, I wonder if there are some places in your life where you need to put the shoe on the other foot, so to speak. Perhaps you've spent the last forty years of your life working for the corporation, working hard to be the provider. And maybe - just maybe - the time has come when God is whispering to you to let go for awhile - to relax and be renewed - to take some time to tend to your own needs - to rebuild your relationship with your spouse - to strengthen your relationship with God. Perhaps you have a relationship with someone who's hurt you and you've been living in the bondage of resentment and bitterness. Maybe God is inviting you to cut that person a little slack and forgive them. Perhaps you've found great depth and meaning in prayer and Bible study, and have found a new personal relationship with Christ. Maybe its time to put that relationship to work by taking up a hammer and working with Habitat for Humanity, or volunteering some time at the Good Samaritan Center. Perhaps you've never studied the Bible and explored your spirituality. Maybe its time to get started. Perhaps you've been a life-long Congregationalist - like me. Do you know how many Congregationalists it takes to change a lightbulb?

Well, maybe its time to change. To learn about the beauty of Methodism and Catholicism and Lutheranism and all the other Christian "isms" that are represented here in our community.

You see, like the spiritual says, "ALL God's children got shoes!"

But you only discover freedom in Christ when you learn when to put them on, and when to take them off. When you find a relationship with God that is better than rules. A living friendship with the God of the exodus.