I identify as…

What if you’re not who you think you are?

In our current cultural climate, “identity” is idolized. “I identify as ______.” Whatever is in that blank is supposed to be an unassailable, bedrock truth statement. Others aren’t allowed to question someone’s identity. No matter that the day before they “identified” as someone/thing else.

It’s all a bit comical. During the pandemic, I was tempted to tell people, “I identify as vaccinated.” I wasn’t literally vaccinated. I chose not to be based on all I was reading and seeing.

In spite of that being a very real, physical reality, I could have, according to the current philosophical craze, have identified as vaccinated. No one should have been allowed to argue with me or dispute that.

I should have been included with all the cool kids who were still having to wear masks in spite of being told they wouldn’t after they got vaccinated. Instead, I kept quiet about my vaccination status, and I didn’t broadcast that I wasn’t vaccinated.

I didn’t want to out-science someone. I’m just a pastor, after all. What do I know? Can I identify as a scientist?

Here’s a dose of reality

I’m not always who I think I am. I would love to think I’m charming, witty, insightful and always sensitive to others. Though I may want to identify as such, I’m certainly not always sensitive to others. 😉

You’re not all that you think you are either.

You’re also not all that you think you aren’t.

In the Old Testament, there’s an incredible moment where one person’s self-identity remarkably holds them back from greatness.

Here’s the background:

The Israelites did what was evil in the sight of the LORD. So the LORD handed them over to Midian seven years, and they oppressed Israel. Because of Midian, the Israelites made hiding places for themselves in the mountains, caves, and strongholds. Whenever the Israelites planted crops, the Midianites, Amalekites, and the people of the east came and attacked them. They encamped against them and destroyed the produce of the land, even as far as Gaza. They left nothing for Israel to eat, as well as no sheep, ox, or donkey.¹

Israel was in “a tight spot.”

Of course, that makes me think about the brilliance of O Brother Where Art Thou? George Clooney’s, “Damn, we’re in a tight spot,” is one of my favorite movie lines of all time.²

Back to Israel and the oppression of the Midianites… the biblical record zooms in on one particular Jew, doing what the rest of the Jews of the time were doing – cowering.

“Gideon was threshing wheat in the winepress in order to hide it from the Midianites.”³

A winepress was usually a sunken area in the ground, intended to capture the juices from crushed grapes that would then be used to create wine. It wasn’t where you threshed wheat, unless you didn’t want to be seen. That’s the point. Gideon was getting things done, but he was attempting to do so in a way that the Midianites would not see him (and thus steal his wheat).

What does Gideon think about himself and his life in that moment? He may be stewing over the need to be hidden. Maybe he’s resentful of God’s inactivity on behalf of Israel. Or maybe he’s not thinking at all – simply doing what needs to be done. He’s learned to live with oppression.

I can say with some measure of certainty that he most assuredly does notthink of himself like the angel does who suddenly appears and addresses him in the winepress:

The Lord is with you, valiant warrior.⁴

Valiant warrior?

It’s almost laughable. The ensuing conversation between the two reveals Gideon’s own disbelief and sheer doubt about the angel’s identification of him as a “valiant warrior.” In fact, Gideon has never done a thing to identify himself as a valiant warrior. To our knowledge, he’s never fought a battle or led troops.

And yet, this heavenly revelation assures Gideon that he has a different identity than what he thinks he does.

You see, it was God who saw the real Gideon. Underneath Gideon’s claimed identity, deeper down than his winepress cowering, God had created Gideon to be a deliverer for Israel. He was now calling him out and up. God would empower Gideon to be who never dreamed he could be.

Who gets to say who we are?

The current days are confusing, to be sure. Any moment, someone will “identify” as something or someone that they weren’t just the day before. We are all just supposed to accept that. Though it flies in the face of reason, biology, evidence, history, sociology and anthropology, someone’s identity claim is supposed to be “truth.”

What if only God gets to say who we are?

The Christian worldview teaches that we are creatures, literally. That means we were created. The Genesis account reveals design and relational intentionality behind man and woman and their creation by God.

Ultimately, whether you believe in a divine creation or a random, god-less evolving of matter into biological life, both perspectives require faith. Both are religions. I prefer – through reason and faith – to trust in the Bible’s account of creation.

If that’s true, then God is the one who gets to say who I am. Not me.

Sometimes what I believe about myself is simply not true. I can have negative thoughts about my abilities or capabilities. On bad days, I wonder about my competence. That’s a real struggle for most people, I think.

What matters most is not what I think about myself but what God thinks about me.

What we believe about ourselves can actually hinder us from greatness.Gideon did not know he was called and chosen to be a “mighty warrior.” If he’d stayed there in the winepress, he would have never discovered that his identity was based on who God made him to be – not how he felt about himself in that moment.

Lewis hit the nail on the head, and his insight reminds us to think of our identities less and to think of God’s more.

“What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.” (A.W. Tozer)

1. Judges 6:1-4[↩]
2. You can even get a poster of it here at Redbubble.

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3. Judges 6:11[↩]
4. Judges 6:12[↩]