I am wearing a flannel shirt and a ball cap with the name of the upstate NY town Ellenville embroidered across the front, coming home to a rectory in the Northwest Territories, reading my son a German children’s book, whilst eating a Jewish delicacy. And the thought that crosses my mind is: I am so thankful that my sons will grow up having Jesus.
We get so caught up in our identity, so caught up in who we are and what we represent, how we dress, what we eat, the importance of our culture and societal standing that we forget that we are sons and daughters of the King.
Growing up in the United States, I had many friends who found their entire identity in that, in their Americanness. I, having grown up cross-culturally and interreligiously, grew up never knowing where I belonged and to whom my allegiance was to be.
Both of our sons are born in Canada, both are Canadian citizens, but they are also US and German. They have family that is Jewish, they have family who is Christian, and they have family who I would go as far as to say are hostile to religion. But they do not have to rely on any of these external factors to be grounded, and to have peace and to know themselves, because their identity first and foremost will be found in a relationship with Jesus Christ.
And that is the key: in a world so divided along racial, political, and cultural lines, we have to remember first and foremost we are one body in Christ. Our identity and worth is found in the cross and not in the world. I saw someone post something on Instagram recently saying, “I don’t care if you have a flag or a political sign in your yard, as long as the cross is bigger
In a world that constantly pushes us to define ourselves by our nationality, our politics, our culture, or our achievements, we must hold fast to our primary identity as followers of Christ.
