EXOD126 The Jewish tradition is also mindful of the variability of human freedom and considers the factors which increase or diminish it. Thus, the more wrong decisions one makes in freedom, the less free we become to choose the good. “At first the evil inclination in man is like a cobweb but afterwards like strong thick ropes.” (Sukkah 52b) When Pharaoh is commanded to free the Israelites he alternates between consent and refusal. Bowing to the threat of divine sanction he acquiesces. Once the threat is removed, he reneges on his pledge. Pharaoh’s “hardening of the heart” is subsequently imputed to divine intervention: “And the Lord said unto Moses ‘Go into unto Pharaoh for I have hardened his heart and the heart of his servants that I might show these my signs in the midst of them.’” (Exodus 10:1) The rabbis ask: If man is free to choose between good and evil, why was Pharaoh denied the freedom to make the right choice? Rabbi Simeon ben Lakish answered: “When God warns a man once, twice, or even three times and still he does not repent, then God closes His heart....” Exodus Rabbah 13:3). Man's freedom, itself a God-given gift, expands or contracts with his exercise thereof. The more consistently one embraces a pattern of conduct, good or evil, the more difficult it becomes to alter the pattern. Here is in part is the significance of the rabbinic dictum: “If God created the evil inclination, he also created the Torah with which to temper it.” [Kiddushin 30b - AJL]. If Torah functions in a man's life as a structured system of acts and restraints, his power to pursue the good has already has found sturdy anchorage. In the rabbinic play on the words charut and chaerut one may find another enduring insight which the tradition contributes to a discussion of human freedom. The Hebrew slaves experienced their greatest birth of freedom not at the Red Sea, but at Sinai. Their freedom chaerut was bound up with their acceptance of the covenant and the engraved (charut) tablets of law. At that hour, they ceased being servants of men and became servants of God (See Avot 6:2). Freedom may not be simply defined as a rejection of authority. It is the exchange of one kind of loyalty for another; in religious terms, a rejection of idolatry for commitment to God. The man who exercises freedom must choose between conflicting claims. His freedom to choose one or the other depends on his assessment of their relative value. How free is a man to stand out in a torrential downpour to purchase an advanced ticket for a theatrical performance? The answer depends measurably on how high “love for the theater” ranks in his order of passionate loyalties or values. An infant's freedom to restrain his aggression is linked to the value he attaches to maternal love. The traditional Jew’s freedom (his power) to observe the demands of the covenant -- even under duress-- is related to the value he places upon doing the will of God. “‘Of them that love me and keep my commandments’ [Exodus 20:6] refers to those who dwell in the land of Israel and risk their lives for the sake of the commandments.” (Mekilta Bahodesh, Vol. II, Lauterbach edition p. 237). Rabbi Eliezer ben Azariah envisages Jews who are tempted to eat pork or who will wish to violate the laws of sexual purity, but who conclude: “What can I do in as much as my Father in heaven has decreed that I do otherwise” (Sifra 93b). Man's freedom (power) to serve God is contingent upon the place such divine service occupies in his hierarchy of concerns. We are partly free to choose our values and those values in turn help define the parameters and substance of our freedom.