Identity- A New Year Resolution
Somehow, deep down in all of us, there is this profound understanding of ourselves that defines who we are. We have come to understand this as our identity. Interestingly, we discover our identity from outside of ourselves, at least initially. Here is what I mean. Growing up my identity was in sports. I was a good athlete. I knew it. Others knew it. If I wasn’t playing sports, I was watching sports. Get into a random conversation with someone in public and inevitably you are discovering if the person is a University of Michigan fan or Michigan State fan. Oftentimes, you don’t need to ask someone who they root for because they normally wear their identity on their clothes.
The reality is, we can be known by many things. Right now people know me as a husband, father, missionary, pastor, son, friend, lover of coffee, etc. Each of these are accurate. There is nothing wrong with that. But are they my identity?
Recently, I was reading two separate articles that triggered the thoughts that are making up this post. One was the headline of an article written in The Athletic, the subscription-based sports coverage wing of The New York Times. Which, no, I do not pay for, but thankfully, I was given a free article to read. The other came from the opening line of an article published in The Detroit News.
“‘I can’t believe it came to this’: His Lions fandom is his identity. He almost lost it.”
“He was desperate, pissed off. His body had betrayed him, ended his football career, stole his identity.”
What if I told you I resonate with these statements? What if I told you there was a time in my life when the same could have been said about me? My Lions and Sparty fandom was my identity. How do I know? My life choices were centered around them. Here is a true story:
I quit my job in Michigan, moved to Kentucky, and enrolled in Asbury Theological Seminary to pursue a calling to full-time ministry. One of the very first days there a certain female caught my attention. Her name was, and still is, Rebecca. She just has a different last name now. I’lll let you assume why that is. Except, at the time, she was that girl across the courtyard during orientation week who I was very much attracted to. As is my nature, I did not take the opportunity to speak to her that day in the courtyard. But boy did I want to. Thankfully, the opportunity presented itself only a few days later. I was sitting in my living room watching, you guessed it, Michigan State football, when a group of students entered my apartment with one of my roommates. Rebecca was with this group. I was invited to join this group as they went to town for something. I had the opportunity of a lifetime to meet the girl in the courtyard, and I turned it down, because, well, Michigan State. Eight years and three kids later and I would say I still came out on top. But my decision in the moment was telling, even if I was the only one in the room who knew why.
Earlier I said that we discover our identity from outside of ourselves, at least initially. I will speak for myself here, but I have a hunch that others will resonate in their own ways. Early in my life I allowed things from outside of me, especially what others thought of me, or maybe better put, my own perception of what others thought of me, to determine my identity. It wasn’t until after high school, university, and even seminary that God began to touch on this. It came through a process of elimination. I made an internal decision to follow Jesus no matter what that meant. Yet, Jesus knew I had an identity problem. Therefore, he ripped them from my life. He did it softly, and He gave me the option to agree to this ripping away. He never forced it on me. At times it felt like I was a little child reluctantly letting my mom or dad rip the bandaid off my owie. But it was necessary. I stopped watching sports. I stopped playing sports. I kind of quit sports altogether. I even made a decision to avoid checking scores, reading or watching highlights from the game the night before, or checking the latest news in the sports world. This went on for almost a year. It was hard. My identity was the owie and the bandaid was coming off. Healing was on the way. Fast forward a few years. We do not own a TV, so I never watch games at home. However, I do if I am at someone’s house and they have it on the big screen. I am often checking the latest scores and I read plenty of articles about what decision the Tigers are making this off-season. Every Monday when I wake up, unless the Lions played in the Thursday or Monday night game, I watch their highlights. It is just different now. Why?
MY IDENTITY IS IN JESUS.
I AM A CHILD OF GOD.
I HAVE BEEN BOUGHT BY THE BLOOD OF THE LAMB.
I AM A FOLLOWER OF JESUS.
This is my true identity. People will still know me as someone who loves a good cup of coffee, enjoys watching a game from time to time, or whatever else they observe about the way I live. But no longer is my identity coming from things that are outside of me. My identity is found from within. When God made Adam, He did so in his image and in His likeness. Every human being that has ever been conceived, whether they make it out of the womb or not, was and is formed in this same image. We call it the Imago Dei, or Image of God.
This is our identity as beloved creatures of a beautiful Creator. Unfortunately, not everyone discovers this in their lifetime. This brings a lot of grief and sadness not only to my heart, but the heart of the Father.
2025 is right around the corner. You may be thinking through New Years resolutions to take on. Let me throw another one on the pile. Make it your goal in 2025 to discover your true identity, if you haven’t yet done so. Even if you know it theologically, make sure you feel it and live from it experientially. Right now it may be rooted in things outside of you. But you have an identity within. It may be dormant right now, but it wants to come alive. The Holy Spirit wants to breathe into you the breath of life. The only questions is, will you let Him?
Are you willing?
