Category: Faith

These observations were first published at The Glorious Table, where I write monthly: https://theglorioustable.com/2021/02/devotional-proving-who-i-am/

If I am incapacitated in some way, let’s say hit by a bus, and unable to speak, the emergency personnel would only have to open my wallet to know who I was and where I belonged. They would also know what I declare to be my height, weight, hair, and eye color. They would know that I am an organ donor. All of this vital information is found on a small plastic rectangle, artfully encoded with snazzy security features, that I carry everywhere.

I have to renew my drivers license this year and our state is upgrading to the REAL ID system. Instead of simply sliding my license across the desk and taking an eye test, I have to make an appointment and arrive with documentation. Not just one or two pieces. Oh no. A stack of documentation including, but not limited to, the following: birth certificate, passport, marriage certificate, social security card, tax forms that include both my address and my social security number. None of the above will also prove that I live at my current address so I must have not one, but two documents that list my current address, which can include utility bills or property tax statements, but only if they are the most recent bills or tax statements.

Can you sense my frustration? I admit, it is palpable. I have put off this chore for as long as possible, my birthday is in less than a week.

All of this work, all of this paperwork that I have to bring along to prove that I am who my about-to-expire drivers license has said that I am for the past 30 years. When I sat with my frustration, talked to it, found out why it was there, I realized that my frustration was based on the feeling of not being known. When I walk into the Department of Transportation office at my appointed time, I have to bring a stack of documents just to prove that I belong. To me. At my address.

Now I love my address, I have lived in this house for twenty-six of my forty-four years, but does the stack of paperwork prove that I live here or is it that I know where the extra key is hidden? Is it enough to know which toilet handle requires a jiggle? Can I explain which window I used to break into my own house when the hidden key was irretrievably lost instead of simply holding my property tax statement? The act of proving who I am and where I live requires a lot of paperwork.

What do I have to do to prove that I am a Jesus follower?

Do we have documents to prove that we are who we say we are? A secret handshake? One might think that perhaps we all wear cross necklaces or have fish bumper stickers on our cars. Is there a minimum number of Bible verses we have to have memorized? Which Lord’s prayer do we have to recite?

I can imagine the disciples sitting with Jesus and Peter asking him (of course it was Peter!), “Jesus, how will everyone else know that we are your disciples? How will they know that we who have been with you this whole time are special? Can we have team cloaks?” Before you discard that statement, keep in mind that the disciples had also argued about who would sit where when Jesus came to the throne of Israel. Like us, these first century followers were eager to share and prove their identity in Christ.

Jesus knows his time is short and he speaks plainly to those gathered around him. “I give you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, so you also must love each other. This is how everyone will know that you are my disciples, when you love each other.” (John 13:34-35, CEB)

Not team cloaks, not matching rings, not gold stars on a Sunday School chart. Not how much you give, how often you attend, how much you can recite.

Your love. Just your love. Only your love.

And not just loving people we like.

I almost think I’d rather lug a stack of documents to the Department of Transportation office.

Almost.

I need that stack of documents so that no one else can impersonate me. I need Christ’s love so that I can impersonate him. Because on my own I don’t love. On my own I am selfish and prideful, I am not loving.

A friend recently sent me a t-shirt that says “Empowered Women Empower Women”. I would like to expand that statement: “Forgiven People Forgive People”, “Loved People Love People”, “Graced People Give Grace”. The world knows who we are, whose we are, because of how we love others. And we love them because Jesus first loved us.

Thanks be to God, he loved us first.