A reflection on freedom, boundaries, and safety ropes, exploring how truth and belonging to Christ free us from the control of sin.
By Muchangke
By Muchangke
All our lives, we pursue freedom.
When we are young, we want to escape our parents' control. After we start working, we want to escape the constraints of our bosses. Once we have some money, we begin pursuing what people call "financial freedom." After years of busyness, we long for "time freedom." And in modern society, people increasingly emphasize freedom of thought, freedom of expression, and bodily autonomy.
We often imagine that if one day no one can tell us what to do---if we can go wherever we want, buy whatever we want, and do whatever we want---then surely that must be freedom.
But something that happened recently caused me to think again:
What exactly is the "freedom" we are pursuing so desperately?
In the early hours of August 7, 2026, in Asunción, the capital of Paraguay, a man fell to his death from the 30th floor of the luxury residential complex Jade Park.
He was later identified as Harry Chun Tak Yeh (叶俊德), a well-known investor in the cryptocurrency world and founder of Quantum Fintech Group.
According to public reports, he was born in Hong Kong, moved to Canada as a child, and entered the cryptocurrency industry at an early stage. He had stated that he, his company, and his partners managed funds and assets totaling more than US$2 billion.
Yet this man, who had once stood near the top of the pyramid of wealth, ultimately left this world in a shocking way.
When police arrived, they found that he had not been wearing clothes when he fell. The door to the apartment on the 30th floor was open, and the room was in disarray. Even more puzzling, media reports said that he had displayed some unusual behavior during the final period of his life.
What exactly happened?
At the time of this writing, we do not know.
Local police investigated several possibilities, including accident, suicide, and homicide. A forensic examination later confirmed that the immediate cause of death was multiple traumatic injuries caused by the fall from a great height. But why he fell cannot responsibly be determined from online rumors.
So I do not want to speculate about the cause of his death, nor do I want to turn someone's death into something to be consumed.
What truly causes me to reflect is another question behind this story:
When a person possesses enormous wealth, enjoys a degree of choice that most people can hardly imagine, and even enters a world built around ideals such as "decentralization" and freedom from traditional financial institutions, does that necessarily make him more free?
That is the question worth considering.
People today love to talk about freedom.
But we rarely stop to ask seriously:
What does freedom actually mean?
For many people, the subconscious definition is very simple:
Freedom means no one can tell me what to do.
So financial freedom means I can buy whatever I want.
Time freedom means I can wake up whenever I want.
Freedom of expression means I can say whatever I want.
Bodily freedom means my body is entirely mine to define.
Freedom in life means, "This is my life. No one gets to tell me how I should live."
At first, these statements can sound powerful.
But think about them more carefully. Is that really freedom?
If freedom simply means "I can do whatever I want," then someone who drives drunk could say, "This is my freedom."
A person addicted to drugs could say, "This is my body."
Someone who gambles away the family's entire savings could say, "This is my money."
A husband who abandons his wife and children could say, "This is my life."
The problem is this:
When your so-called freedom begins to harm yourself, harm others, destroy responsibility, and violate truth, it is no longer freedom. It has become indulgence.
Scripture speaks very clearly about this:
"For, brethren, ye have been called unto liberty; only use not liberty for an occasion to the flesh."
--- Galatians 5:13 (KJV)
This is extremely important.
The Bible is not opposed to freedom.
Quite the opposite: the Christian faith places tremendous value on freedom.
But Scripture teaches us that freedom and indulgence are not the same thing.
We often assume:
The fewer the restrictions, the greater the freedom.
But reality does not work that way.
When is a fish most free?
In the water.
Imagine saying to a fish, "Water is restricting you. I am going to rescue you from the water so that you can be completely free!"
Then you place it on dry land.
Is the fish free?
No. It is dying.
Water may appear to limit the fish, but it is also the environment in which the fish can live.
Likewise, why can a train travel at high speed?
Because it is confined to the tracks.
If one day the train announces:
"I want freedom! I do not want these tracks!"
and then leaves the rails, what it gains is not freedom but disaster.
Human life is similar.
We often assume that if we remove every restriction, people will become increasingly free.
Not necessarily.
Some limits are not prison chains. They are guardrails at the edge of a cliff.
A truly free nation is never a nation in which everyone can simply do whatever they want.
On the contrary, a free society can preserve freedom precisely because it has laws.
You are free to drive, but you must obey traffic laws.
You may own property, but you may not steal someone else's property.
You may express your views, but that does not give you the right to commit violence, defraud others, or threaten them.
You possess freedom, but you must also accept the responsibilities that freedom brings.
Therefore:
Freedom without boundaries will eventually devour freedom itself.
The story of Harry Yeh makes me think of a powerful image:
A rope.
Throughout our lives, we keep cutting ropes.
As children, we want to cut the rope of parental authority.
When we are young, we want to cut the rope of school.
After entering the workforce, we want to cut the rope of our boss.
After making money, we want to cut the rope of financial pressure.
And when we gain more power, we may want to cut the ropes of institutions, rules, and other people's opinions.
We dream of the day when there will be no rope attached to us at all.
But anyone who has climbed a mountain knows that there is one kind of rope you must never cut.
The safety rope.
Most of the time, it can feel annoying.
It presses against you. It limits your range of movement. It keeps you from doing exactly whatever you please.
But when your foot slips and you fall from the cliff, you suddenly realize:
The rope that once restricted you is the very rope that saves your life.
Life is the same.
Not every limitation is a chain.
Some relationships are safety ropes.
Some responsibilities are safety ropes.
Some friends are safety ropes.
Some spiritual companions are safety ropes.
The correction and accountability of the church can sometimes be a safety rope.
Even people who make you uncomfortable because they are willing to tell you the truth may be safety ropes God has placed in your life.
The most dangerous condition in life is not necessarily, "Someone can tell me what to do."
Sometimes it is precisely this:
No one can tell me what to do anymore.
No one dares to ask where your money came from.
No one dares to ask where you have been.
No one dares to challenge your decisions.
No one dares to point out your mistakes.
No one knows your secrets.
And even when warning signs begin appearing in your life, there is no one close enough to say:
"You cannot keep going like this. Let me walk with you."
That is not mature freedom.
It may be a very deep form of loneliness.
This is also why the phrase "financial freedom" deserves another look.
I am not against making money.
Money itself is not sinful, nor is wealth itself sinful. Scripture tells us of people such as Abraham and Job who possessed great wealth.
Money can solve many problems.
It can improve our living conditions, support our families, provide education, help people in need, and become a tool for blessing others.
But money carries a danger:
It can easily create the illusion that I no longer need anyone.
Once I have money, I do not need to ask anyone for help.
Once I have money, I can leave whenever I want.
Once I have money, I can solve my own problems.
Once I have money, I can buy more and more choices.
Gradually, "I have the ability to choose" becomes "I do not need anyone."
But those are two completely different statements.
A person's bank account can grow larger while his world grows smaller.
More and more people may know who he is, while fewer and fewer truly know him.
He may have more and more people he can contact, yet fewer and fewer people with whom he can speak honestly from the heart.
In the end, he may possess almost everything, yet have no one to whom he can truly entrust himself.
That is not freedom.
It is a beautifully furnished island.
The Bible gives us a completely different definition of freedom.
Jesus said:
"And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free."
--- John 8:32 (KJV)
He also said:
"If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed."
--- John 8:36 (KJV)
Notice the order.
The Bible does not say:
Free yourself from all truth, and then you will be free.
It says:
Know the truth, and then you will be free.
This is one of the great differences between many modern ideas of freedom and the Christian faith.
Modern people often say:
"Do not tell me what truth is. I define myself."
But Scripture tells us:
Human beings do not create truth; truth defines us. We do not decide what truth is; rather, we come to know ourselves within the truth.
That may sound restrictive, but in reality it is liberating.
Because without truth, freedom eventually collapses into a single statement:
"I like it."
But human desires change. Emotions change. Circumstances change. Our bodies grow old. Markets collapse. Wealth disappears.
If what I like today determines who I am, then when my desires change tomorrow, who am I?
A stable life cannot be built upon constantly changing desires. It must be built upon a truth greater than ourselves.
Someone may ask:
If believing in Jesus gives us freedom, does that mean we can now do whatever we want?
Quite the opposite.
Christ sets us free not so that we can become more capable of sinning, but so that we can finally become free from sin's control.
I used to lose my temper and say, "I cannot control it."
I used to be greedy and say, "Everyone is like this."
I used to be consumed by a certain desire and say, "This is what I need."
I used to hate someone and say, "I simply cannot forgive."
I could be bound by money while believing that making more money was freedom.
Bound by lust while believing that satisfying desire was freedom.
Bound by the opinions of others while believing that applause was freedom.
But Scripture tells us:
That is precisely what it means not to be free.
"Whosoever committeth sin is the servant of sin."
--- John 8:34 (KJV)
So the freedom Christ gives is not:
At last, I can do whatever I want.
It is:
At last, I do not have to obey whatever has been controlling me.
I do not have to be controlled by money.
I do not have to be controlled by lust.
I do not have to be controlled by anger.
I do not have to be controlled by other people's opinions.
I do not have to be controlled by the wounds of my past.
I no longer even have to be controlled by the fear of death.
That is freedom.
A free person does not simply possess more and more "I can."
More importantly, a free person possesses more and more:
"I don't have to."
I can make money, but I do not have to love money.
I can afford to buy something, but I can choose not to buy it.
I may have the right to lose my temper, but I can choose gentleness.
I may have an opportunity for revenge, but I can choose forgiveness.
I may have the ability to leave, but for the sake of love I can choose to stay.
I may have the right to insist on my own way, but I can also choose to deny myself for the sake of others.
I may face temptation, but I can say, "No."
This is what genuine maturity looks like.
Paul wrote:
"All things are lawful unto me, but all things are not expedient: all things are lawful for me, but I will not be brought under the power of any."
--- 1 Corinthians 6:12 (KJV)
The more I think about it, the more I believe this may be one of the deepest explanations of freedom:
Freedom does not mean that I can do everything. It means that nothing is allowed to become my master.
In the end, can a human being truly belong to nothing at all?
It is difficult.
If you do not belong to God, you may belong to money.
If you are not guided by truth, you may be guided by desire.
If you refuse the healthy constraints of right relationships, you may become controlled by loneliness.
If you do not fear God, you may increasingly fear the opinions of people.
We imagine that we are escaping masters, when often we are simply exchanging one master for another.
And this is where the gospel is so beautiful:
Jesus does not release us from one prison and then throw us into the wilderness, saying:
"Now figure everything out by yourself."
He releases us from the power of sin and brings us home to the Father.
So Christian freedom is not the freedom of an isolated island.
It is the freedom of sons and daughters.
I know where I came from.
I know to whom I belong.
I know what is good and what is evil.
I know where I can return when I fall.
And I know that even when the whole world changes, there is still a God who never changes.
Therefore, true freedom is not:
"No one in this world can ever reach me again."
True freedom is:
"Wherever I go, I know to whom I belong. No matter how far I fall, I know who can catch me."
We do not know why Harry Yeh fell from the 30th floor, and we should not draw conclusions on behalf of the police or his family.
But the sudden death of a man around forty years old who had once managed enormous assets is still deeply sobering.
It reminds us:
How much money a person has and whether that person has peace are two different questions.
How many choices a person has and whether that person is truly free are also two different questions.
So if you are working hard to pursue freedom, I would say:
Pursue it.
Work diligently. Live seriously. Manage your wealth. Learn independence. Take responsibility.
But---
do not cut every rope.
Cut the chains that bind you,
but keep the safety ropes that can save you.
Keep your family.
Keep your true friends.
Keep a spiritual companion who is willing to tell you the truth.
Keep the church.
Keep responsibility.
Keep truth.
And above all:
Do not sever your relationship with God.
Because one day, when wealth cannot catch you, status cannot catch you, and even your friends do not know how to catch you, you may discover that what we truly need has never been a world in which "no one can tell me what to do."
What we truly need is this:
A God greater than ourselves who can be the final foundation of our lives.
Jesus said:
"If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed."
--- John 8:36 (KJV)
That is freedom.
Not doing whatever we want whenever we want.
But, within the truth, finally becoming the people God created us to be.
Not living without boundaries,
but running freely within the boundaries of truth.
Not living without ropes,
but knowing which rope is a chain and which rope is a safety line.
Not reaching the point where we no longer need anyone,
but knowing to whom we belong and knowing who will catch us when we fall.
True freedom is not breaking away from everything.
True freedom is no longer being a slave to sin, a slave to desire, a slave to money, or a slave to self---but becoming truly free in Christ.
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