What is your name?

"What is your name?"

Jesus asks this to a demon possessed man in the book of Mark. Lately, I have been pondering the questions that Jesus asks in the gospels. Why does he ask them? What is he getting at? And how would I respond?

In bible times names meant something, stood for something. They weren't randomly chosen names that sounded cool to the parents giving the name. In part, they defined a person or something about them.

So why does Jesus ask this? He already knows the man's name. he man responds that his name is Legion, because he is possessed by so many demons. But that's not his birth-given name, that's not who he really is. But now that defines him. It's who he's become and what gives him his identity. He's completely controlled by demons, so that is how he sees himself and how others view him as well.

I considered this question, wondering how I would respond. What is my name? How do I see and define myself? We all seem to have some sort of facade, some "name" the defines how we see ourselves. When I meet people on the streets of Hollywood, I will be looking a male in the face (though he's probably dressed in women's clothing) and hear him tell me his name is "Peaches" or "Crystal". Clearly, that's not his real name. But it's the identity he's taken upon himself, how he wants clients and other prostitutes to see and understand him. He feels more like a woman than a man, and so he's created an identity to align with that. Or I meet drug dealers or homeless men going by "Red" or "Shadow Warrior" or some other creative street name. Again, they weren't given these names, but it's how they want to be seen now and an identity they've either created or taken on during their time on the streets.

In Paul's letters to the early church he generally identifies himself in the beginning, not just as Paul but with a description like, "a servant of the Lord Jesus Christ" or "chosen to be an Apostle"...or for John it was "the disciple whom Jesus loved."

'So', I thought, 'if I were asked that question, what would my response be?' Is my initial, instinctive answer, "daughter of God" or "servant of Christ" or "a child that is loved by God"? Honestly, no. I think my first response, especially if wanting to define myself to someone, would be, a daughter and sister, a marketing professional, a health and fitness enthusiast, someone in leadership in ministry, an employee for my brother's company, a Christian, a friend. These things define who I am, what I do, what's important to me, they give me value - regardless of whether or not they should. I see myself in light of these roles, and want others to recognize those as well. As I considered my identity and "name", even though I knew the correct, Sunday school answer would be "child of God" or something along those lines, I was troubled by the honest answer. Yes, my identity in Christ is huge for me, it's shapes me and the way I live. But is that the only thing that gives me my worth and defines me? Why isn't my first and most important answer, "servant of Christ", "woman that God loves" my 100% honest, initial answer? Is that enough for me, or am I seeking so much significance and validity in my other roles that I feel the need to tack those on to my identity as God's child? Why isn't it enough for me to say that I belong to God without claiming my importance in the gifts and roles he's blessed me with. Am I more wrapped up in those things that I see myself through the lens of what I do, rather than who Christ says I am?Am I serving those areas of my life more than I'm serving Christ?

I don't really have all of the answers to those questions at this point. But I know they're worth asking and dwelling on until I find more answers. Because I want to be so sold out and obsessed with Christ and his kingdom-building that my natural response is, "I'm a servant of Christ. I'm Holly, which means, 'Holy One'." I'm holy because God has made me holy through his son. I'm a saint and a bearer of His name and good news, and that's all that matters."

Where these questions lead, and how to get to the point of finding my entire identity in who God says I am...I don't really know yet. But it's something worth thinking about, day after day, until I figure it out..or get as close as I can to figuring it out.

Moving Thoughts

"...Here was an admitted addict and user openly proclaiming Christ in his community and asking how he could serve us. What do you do when a good tree bears bad fruit, or a bad tree bears good fruit? Look harder. What's your definition of a Christian? Is it broad enough to encompass the drug dealers, primps, prostitutes, and broken people of the world? Jesus said that he came to heal the sick. Drug addicts are messed up just the same as liars are messed up, just the same as all humans are messed up. We all need Jesus. We all struggle with personal ways in which sin plays itself out in our lives. What's worse? To not do dope or to not love your brother? Why do we kick drug users out of the church while quietly ignoring those who aren't dealing with other, equally destructive sins? Why do we reject the loving, self-sacrificing, giving, encouraging, Jesus-pursuing drug addict but recruit the clean, self-interested, gossiping, loveless churchgoer?Which one do you suppose Jesus would rather share a burrito with under a bridge?"-Mike Yankoski, Under the Overpass

I’ve been reading this book lately, Under the Overpass, written by Mike Yankoski, who chose to be homeless for 5 months to put his faith to the test and see how it would survive outside of the comfortable life he was used to. Between that and my own experiences doing ministry in Hollywood, my thinking has been greatly challenged. And it has led me to great discouragement with the American church. Which includes myself – I have grown more frustrated with my own Christianity. When I try to look at my life, and those around me, from the perspective of a homeless person, or an outcast in society who has nothing, it troubles me. In his book, Yankoski recalls a moment when a family stops by the restaurant he and his friend are sitting outside of to look at the menu. They mention something about generosity and the Holy Spirit….and then walk away, completely ignoring the two homeless men sitting on the street. How often have I done the same? Pretend that if people aren’t there, they won’t notice me, won’t hear what I say or observe my hypocrisy. And then I read a part like the one quoted above, and recall times I have seen it myself – those we ignore or condemn for their lifestyles, being more gracious and generous than we who call ourselves Christians are. How often have I harmed the name of Christ by ignoring the needs of those around me, or by looking down on someone different from me, as if I’m any better?

Most of us are so used to our comfortable lives that it seems preposterous not to have a car, or a cell phone…we have to diet because we have too much to eat….and we all live the same kind of comfortable lives and seem to get lost in our Christian bubbles. We spend our time with our Christian families, friends, in church, and even lost in our own biblical studies. And none of that is bad…fellowship and discipleship is critical. But when do we step out of that comfort zone and actually live out our faith amongst those who have never heard? Or those who have bad perceptions of Christians, and then try to change that?

I recently found myself almost angry at the cute, inspiriational decorations in a family member’s home, which we probably all have some of…and at the way we can basically ignore waiters and store clerks and homeless people…and then pour out our hearts and generosity to other Christians. We are great at loving each other and encouraging one another. But why don’t we do it with strangers? With those living in darkness and hopelessness? How real is our faith?

And I’m just as frustrated with myself as with others. I go to Hollywood every week and know the store owners, those who frequent the streets, and I go out of my way to make contact, build relationships, and talk about Jesus with everyone I meet, even when they think we’re crazy. And yet during the week I go to the gym, the store, and other places on a regular basis, and am so wrapped up in my own life and introversion and schedule that I say as little as possible and go on my way. I smile and treat people kindly and think that will lead them to Christ. So why the disconnect?

My main reason for posting this rant is that an idea struck me recently, which shouldn’t be so revolutionary…it should just be a normal way of living. But I am moving to a new city. About 20 minutes away, so it’s not far or much different, but it’s a new city. And with this fresh start, I thought, “I need to live missionally. I want to be intentional about relationships here. To get to know the store owners and workers and receptionists and neighbors that I see on a regular basis. And to be as bold as I am in Hollywood. I shouldn’t have to go somewhere else to live out my faith, I should do it the same everywhere I go.” And for some accountability and my own reminder, I’m writing about it publicly. In a few months, I want to walk into my local Trader Joe’s or Target and greet the employees by name and know some of their story. I want to buy food for the hungry and share my life with anyone who might be living on the street. I want to give my time to those who have no friends, and share the gospel with those living without hope. I want my life to look different to my own community…so that as a Christian I’m not just another religious person, but someone that reflects Christ and makes the lost think differently of Him…and want to come to Him.

“I do this because my faith tells me to. The bible clearly says, if you see someone hungry, feed them; if you see someone naked, clothe them. Those words weren’t written for us to make books and sermons about. They’re written so people don’t go hungry or naked. And they require action from all followers of Christ, not just the rescue missions. Anyway, that’s how I see it. So I’m trying to live my life that way and be pleasing to Jesus.” (excerpt from Under the Overpass, spoken by a guy who takes pizza to the homeless in San Francisco on a regular basis)