I was recently reading a story by
Dr. David Jeremiah of his friend, Dr. John Hovey, a surgeon, who developed
Parkinson’s disease. As he slowly lost control of his hands, he began to see
how this impacted his work as a surgeon. He realized that he would eventually
lose his ability to do what he did best, operate; but more than that, he
realized he would lose the affirmation of those he treated. He began to ask the
important question, “Is my identity as a doctor more important than my identity
as His disciple?”
This story hit a chord in my heart as I recalled the impact of making the decision to leave the mission field some
12 years ago for largely medical reasons. I had dreamed of being a missionary
since I was 11 years old. I had trained and prepared academically for 7 years,
and threw everything I had into that one goal. During my training years, I
remember watching a video of the remarkable story of how Marilyn Laszlo and her
partner brought a remote tribe in Papua New Guinea to salvation through the ministry
of Bible Translation. I remember aspiring to be like her. Gradually through the
years other successful missionaries also became role models. I held to an ideal
model of what success as a missionary would look like.
Then my actual ministry in West
Africa began to unfold. It didn’t look exactly like I expected, but there were
some great achievements and victories nonetheless. After 19 years, however, when
we made the decision to leave the field, the project uncompleted, the people
group still lost, I felt a deep sense of discord, failure, confusion, and even
at times despair. I felt my entire identity was in question. My husband shared
some of the same sentiment. Thankfully, we had the opportunity to debrief with
a counselor who gave us wise and life-giving advise. It all had to do with
identity. As I read the resources given to me, and reflected on what was
happening during our time of transition, I gradually began to ask myself the
question, not unlike that of Dr. John Hovey: In what did I wrap-up my identity?
Had my identity as a missionary become more important than my identity in
Christ? Had I measured my success by comparing myself and my ministry to
others?
Parker Palmer, in his book “Let Your
Life Speak” points out that trying to live someone else’s life will invariably
fail, and may even do great damage. When we force ourselves into a mold that
was not meant for us, we violate the true self God intended us to be, sometimes
at great cost. He says that there is a great gulf between the way our egos want
to be identified, with their protective masks and fictitious scenarios, and our
true selves. He shares a quote from Rabbi Zusya who said as an old man, “In the coming world, they will not ask me: ‘Why were you not Moses?’ They
will ask me: ‘Why were you not Zusya?’”
As young people, we are surrounded by voices and
expectations that try to fit us into slots and which we inadvertently use to
define our identity. Brent Curtis and John Eldredge in “The Sacred Romance” point
out that we have learned from parents and peers, at school, at work, and even
from our spiritual mentors that something else is wanted from us other than our
heart. We feel accomplished and complete when we have degrees or titles behind
our name. We are trained to conform to a norm, and often, driven by fear,
betray our true selves to gain the approval of others. We often find ourselves
doing the right thing for the wrong reasons. We too easily can hide ourselves
in Christian service. Satan whispers to us that performance is more important.
We do things, even noble things, that may look good to us for a while, but
eventually we distort ourselves and our relationship with the Father. Frederick
Buechner in “Telling Secrets” says that we try to make ourselves into something
that we hope the world will like better than the original self, and in the process
of living out that story, the “original, shimmering self gets buried so deep
that most of us hardly end up living out of it at all.”
Another thing I have learned is that our Christian
culture too often labels our missionary service or our vocation in any other
field as our “calling”, and when this is ripped away from us, we are left
feeling like a failure and an insecure identity. An honest appraisal of
Scripture, however, will demonstrate that our true “calling” is to salvation in
Christ, to holiness, to righteousness, and with that does comes sharing the
gospel wherever we are. When our sense of “calling” is defined in this way, no
change in career, no change in health status, trauma, culture stress, thwarted
plans, unfulfilled dreams, disillusionment, loss, military coup, pandemic, or
any other change in circumstances will shake us from fulfilling our true
calling, nor shake our identity. Our “calling” and identity must not be tied to
a particular place, mission field, career, title, role, or even people group,
but rather to Christ alone and to faithfulness to Him, whatever that may look
like for each one of us.
I now see and understand that my true calling, first and
foremost, is to simply love others wherever I am, and be a faithful follower through whatever life throws my
way. But also, in my intimate relationship with the Father, my quest should be to discover the unique
person He has made me to be, and find joy in the unique journey He is taking me
on. As Parker Palmer suggest, our deepest calling is to grow into our authentic self-hood, whether or not it conforms
to some image of who we ought to be by others' standards. Finding our authentic self will require an
intimacy with the Christ, rooting our identity in Him and in whose we are
rather than who we are. This and this alone will give us a sense of fulfillment,
joy, and a secure sense of identity, and will put us on the right path of authentic
service in the world, wherever we end up.
2 Corinthians 5:17 "This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!" (NLT)
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