Claimed 2020
Sermon Notes
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about everything that went into putting a man on the moon, specifically all the questions one has to ask to make that a reality. Really complex questions involving thermodynamics and gravitation and propulsion. Really important questions about equipment and procedure and budget. Really practical questions like, “What does an astronaut eat?” “How do you use an ink pen in zero-gravity?” and “How do you—how can I put this delicately—relieve yourself in space?” (a very important question, which, incidentally, they didn’t actually figure out before the first moon landing!). The Apollo 11 rocket that eventually did land on the moon was made up of over 2 million individual parts, and I imagine that every part represented hundreds, some thousands, of questions, all vitally important but not all equally important. You see, for every great undertaking, there is always one great question, one paramount question, that guides and shapes every other question. What do you suppose that question was for the Apollo Project? Exactly. “Where are we going?” If you put any other question before that question, you’re gonna end up in a world of hurt. You can’t know how much fuel you’re going to need unless you know where you’re going. You can’t calculate all of the complex physics involved in launch and landing, among millions of other details unless you know where you’re going. You won’t know what to pack unless you know where you’re going.
I want to suggest to you today that we, as a society, have been trained to ask the important questions of life in the wrong order. I was invited here today to talk to you about identity, specifically to answer the question, “What is identity?” But, I have a feeling that when I say that, I don’t need to define it for you. You have all been taught that knowing your identity is about answering the question, “Who am I?” And, to be certain, this is a fascinating, meaningful, powerful question. As a matter of fact, this question is, undoubtedly, one of the primary reasons that Vanguard University exists and the reason that you’re here today. Your story matters. You see, there is tremendous power in knowing who you are: where you come from, what you love, what you’re good at, and where you’re headed. Each of you comes here today from a different place, different family, different culture, and all of that goes into making you who you are. And, because each of you is different, each sees the world differently. Whether as a result of your upbringing, your personality, your talents, or your interests, each person here today sees something different when you look around this room. Seriously, take a look around the room for just a moment. What do you see? On the count of 3, shout it out. See! That perspective, that unique outlook on life, goes into making you who you are. And, each of you has different ambitions, different plans, a different reason for being here. Some of you are here to make new friends, to grow in a chosen profession, to figure out what you want to do with your life, because it’s just what you felt like you were supposed to do next, to get married. And, those dreams, those plans, those ambitions, they are significant components of who you are. What’s more, one of the most exciting things, for me, about this room today is the potential that exists when stories, identities, intersect and overlap one another in community. There is tremendous power in diversity, in shared uniqueness, and you will find that, if you truly participate in this community—that is, if you invest yourself fully, intentionally, authentically, and humbly into this community—it will shape your identity and, significantly, you will shape it.
So, the question, “Who am I?” is certainly an important question. But, I am absolutely convinced that it’s not the primary question. It can’t be because, if we’re really honest with ourselves, none of us has a clue how to answer that question. Think about it for a second. If I ask you that question—“Who are you?—what would you say? Would you give me your name, connecting yourself with a family, with a culture, with a history? Would you give a list of interests, achievements, or ambitions—“I’m an English major, I’m a soccer player, I’m a lion!”? All good, all true, but none of it is really who you are. But, if I kept on pressing—“But who are you?”—what would you say? You’d probably get frustrated and walk away. Because, no offense intended, but left to yourself, you don’t have a clue who you are. Don’t feel bad though; neither does anyone else. Just look at the world today, and you’ll see it’s true. Take a look at where ten or twelve generations of defining ourselves based on what we do has gotten us: work-a-holic, exhausted, obsessed with task, unable to participate in meaningful relationship, unaware of the world around us, uninterested in conversations about higher purpose. Look at the devastating effects of defining ourselves on the basis of what we have: consumerism, discontent, waste, excess, apathy, arrogance, envy. What about the more recent postmodern trend—popular in the last two or three generations—of defining ourselves by what we’re not, by challenging and deconstructing every practice, belief, and relationship? What’s the result? Disconnection, isolation, rampant individualism, loss of community, loss of purpose, loss of joy. We could go on and on for hours pointing out the endless ways that human beings try to answer the question, “Who am I?” and ultimately show each answer to be insufficient, and, on its own, meaningless. But, again, I’m convinced that the problem is not necessarily the answers but the question.
There’s a better question, the best question, that I learned from one of my heroes, a man named Paul. Paul was quite a guy, wealthy, well-traveled, well-educated, well-connected, just generally well-prepared for life. In a letter he would later write, a letter that we call Philippians, he tells us a little bit about his story, really gives us his résumé. Here’s what he said about himself:
If someone else thinks they have reasons to put confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; in regard to the law, a Pharisee; as for zeal, persecuting the church; as for righteousness based on the law, faultless. (Philippians 3:4-6)
Now, I know it’s a strange résumé from our perspective—guys, next time you apply for a job, I dare you to write, “Circumcised on the eighth day,” on your résumé; let me know how it goes—but all of that meant something to Paul. Essentially, in one sentence, Paul has given us his entire identity: family, culture, heritage, religion, occupation, belief, action, and ambition, the same way any of us would define ourselves. He was privileged, talented, educated, driven, disciplined. He was born the best of the best, and he went to great lengths to ensure that he would always be the best of the best. And, he was. If he were here today, we would stick his face on a billboard. We would line up to buy his books, we would give him his own TV show, people would flock from miles around to ask him how they should live their lives. A poster-child for human excellence. All because he clearly knew who he was. He knew what he was born into, he knew what he was passionate about, he knew what he was capable of, and he knew where he was headed. Any way you looked at it, from anyone’s perspective, this guy was a success. But, one day, on his way to live his life the way he knew how to live it, he just walked away from all of it, from his background, from his interests, from his plans, from his dreams, because he had an encounter that caused him to finally ask the right question and, in doing so, he figured out who he was:
As he neared Damascus on his journey, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice say to him, "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" "Who are you, Lord?" Saul asked." (Acts 9:3-5)
And, there it is. Did you hear it? Did you hear the question Paul asked? “Who are you, Lord?” This question changes everything. For the first time in his life, Saul asked the right question. And, when he received the answer—“I am Jesus”—everything changed.
See, “Who am I?” is a good question, an important question, but it is not the first question. We mistake it for the first question. We spend an awful lot of energy trying to answer this question, whether tacitly or actively. But, let me tell you what. You can never know who you are until you know who Jesus is because, the truth is, only He knows who you are. He made you. He knew you before you were born. He has been leading and guiding you throughout your life, protecting and sustaining you. He has brought you to this place, to this community, to this moment. He has plans for you, dreams for you, a glorious future for you. So, the only way, you’re ever going to know who you are is if you get and stay as close to Him as possible, and tomorrow get closer still. Learn to hear His voice singing out your name, your true name. Learn to receive His love, just as you are, not as you should be. Learn to follow right on His heels, watching every move, hanging on every word, like a child who wants to be just like Dad. Learn who He is; then, He will show you who you are.
You know, when it’s all said and done, I have to ask, does your story actually matter? The answer: potentially, but not necessarily. It’s entirely possible to live an insignificant, an ultimately meaningless story, and that always comes as a result of failing to ask the right question first. Just like a rocket engineer who plans every last detail of the mission without ever stopping to think about the destination. What’s going to happen? The rocket’s going to end up drifting through the infinite expanse of space without aim or purpose. But, if you ask the right question first, if you begin, not with “Who am I?” but with “Who are you, Lord?” you’ll find, in His eyes, the answers to both of these questions and, therein, a life, an identity, that is far more significant, more meaningful than you could ever ask for or imagine. In other words, if you see and know Him more and more every day, your story will matter beyond your wildest dreams!