Who Are You?

Last summer, I shared a message with the men living at the homeless shelter that I entitled “Who are You?”  The title was borrowed from a favorite classic rock song of mine performed by The Who and written by lead guitarist Pete Townshend.  I began by playing “Who Are You” on my phone and asking if anyone was familiar with the song.  As most of the men in the audience were of a certain age, it was no surprise that many of them enthusiastically raised their hand and some even shared a few fond memories from the “good old days” when the song was first released. I then issue a challenge to the men to be asking themselves the question, “Who are you?” as I shared the message with them.

While preparing for the message, I discovered the inspiration for the song came following an incident where Pete Townshend was forced to confront that he and The Who were slowly becoming irrelevant as the punk rock movement had exploded onto the music scene.  The incident eventually led Townshend to question his own identity and consider who he was after performing as lead guitarist for the The Who for more than a decade.

Little did I know at the time that I would be asking myself that very same question several months later when I made the difficult decision to leave the ministry and return to the business world.  I have been wrestling with that question ever since, and even more so in recent weeks with the outbreak of the COVID-19 pandemic. The forced isolation that has been imposed on so many of us has provided me with the perfect opportunity to slow down and spend some time in deep reflection on this question.

Most of my life has been a never-ending quest to answer the question, “Who Are You?” From an early age, I learned that society defines me, judges me, and values me based on what I do, and how well I do it. After all, what is the first question we are asked when we meet someone for the first time?  In one form or another, the question is always, “What do you do?” Therefore, it only seemed logical that I would seek to find my identity in what I do, and how well I perform whatever it is that I do.

This bred a very competitive spirit within me that began to surface in my middle school years. Through this lens, I subtly viewed everyone as a potential competitor for the identity that I sought to establish; therefore, I pushed myself to achieve and excel in whatever field of endeavor that I chose.  For this I believed was the path to achieving meaning and purpose in my life and receiving the love and affirmation that I so desperately sought from my friends and peers.

After graduating from high school, I experienced my first serious identity crisis.  I had spent the previous eight years dedicating myself to exceling in sports and establishing myself as one of the top athletes in my school. This brought me the attention and acceptance that I so longed for.  But, by the time I reached my junior year of high school my body was already beginning to break down and my identity as an athlete slowly began slipping away.  Following graduation, my self-esteem was dealt a severe blow that lasted for several years as I struggled to find my place in the world and a new identity that would bring me the same level of love and respect that being a student-athlete had.

That search for a new identity ended about six years later when my boss and mentor, Warren Miller, asked me if I had ever considered getting into sales. My immediate response was an emphatic NO!  However, I quickly reversed course after considering the possibility of working in the warehouse for another six years.  So, I decided to put aside my reservations and give it a try.  After some early struggles and periods of severe self-doubt, I gradually began to experience some level of success.  Along with that success came more money and more opportunity. But more importantly, it brought with it the recognition, and acceptance that I had been yearning for since leaving high school.  After years of struggling, my identity crisis had finally come to an end, or so I thought.

By 2004, the fast-paced world of sales was beginning to catch up with me.  The long hours and never-ending pressure to perform were starting to take their toll on my physical and emotional health.  Little did I know at the time that I was already headed toward another identity crisis that would soon unfold in a very dramatic and unexpected way. At the invitation of a concerned friend early that year, I decided to attend a church service as I sensed I was heading down a dangerous path.  In the weeks and months that followed, I began to discover what I thought was my true identity.  And within three years, I became convinced that God had called me to the ministry.  So, I enrolled myself in Bible college and spent the next several years studying and preparing myself to live out the new identity that God had called me to.

My faith and hard work were seemingly rewarded in 2016 when I was offered a position at the York Rescue Mission.  Convinced that I had at long last discovered the identity I was destined for, I poured myself into my work like never before. Because I was now doing God’s work, I could justify working myself to exhaustion and sacrificing my health and time with my family. After all, isn’t that what is expected when you enter the ministry?  And more importantly, isn’t that what God expects of me?  Without even realizing it, I had simply put off my old identity and put on a new identity that had a far stronger hold over me unlike any of the others that came before it.  While I found great joy and reward in working with the homeless community, the attention and respect that came with my new identity was like nothing that I had ever experienced before. It was intoxicating and frightening all at the same time.

Which is why I struggled mightily to let go of this identity when it became obvious that my time at the Mission had come to an end. After finally attaining the identity I had so longed for all my life, why would God be calling me to leave after only three years. In my determination to hold onto this identity, I developed all sorts of rationalizations why I couldn’t leave the ministry. In the process, I deluded myself into thinking that God needed me, and the ministry would have difficulty surviving without me.  When in truth, what was really behind my reluctance to let go was my fear of being diminished and perceived as less valuable among my friends and peers in the community. After months of wrestling with this decision, it finally became evident that I needed to move on and in the process, rediscover who I truly was.

The road has not been easy and there have been a few dark days along the way.  But after grappling with this question for the past several months, I have discovered that all the identities I have assumed over the years have a shelf life.  Even the identities that have not been associated with my career, such as being a coach or a mentor, gradually fade over time.  They all provided some level of temporary fulfillment and enjoyment for a brief period of time. But inevitably, they all had an expiration date, and the hunger for meaning and purpose remains until the next one is found.

Through this period of transition, it is now clear that God was issuing me an invitation.  My instinct was to avoid his invitation and continue the search for something that could fill that void.  But God would provide no easy way of escape this time.  Once and for all, I had to settle the question he was inviting me to answer – “Am I enough?”

In the early days of my salvation, he was enough.  I rejoiced in being found by him and simply being in his presence.  But as time went on, the exhilaration of my newfound faith began to wane, and I gradually retreated to my old patterns of thinking. Throughout college and following graduation, I became consumed with the work of serving the Lord, rather than the Lord himself.

The opportunity with York Rescue Mission became the perfect vehicle for indulging my obsession.  There was no end to the good work that needed to be done on behalf of others.  The opportunities were endless and unrelenting day after day.  Before I knew it, I was putting in 70-hour weeks serving the Lord.  The work was exhausting and left little time to just be with God and hear his still small voice.  But the respect and admiration that came with my position seemed to be an acceptable trade off.  It appeared I finally had succeeded at attaining the identity I long desired for myself. And best of all, I had earned God’s favor at the same time. Surely, I reasoned, he must be well pleased with me, right?

In the weeks leading up to my resignation, I knew in my heart that I had lost my way, and that God was calling me back home.  Since then, I have spent a great deal of time trying to find my way back. Along the way there have been many detours which have prolonged the journey.  But I am confident that I’m on the right path and will arrive home soon where I will be welcomed back into the outstretched arms of the Father.

And when I do, I can be assured there will be no vestige of bitterness or rejection in his heart.  There will be no trace of anger in his voice or disappointment in me for having left home. There will be no effort needed on my part to win back his trust or regain his favor. And above all, there will be no demands of restitution for having left him in order to reclaim his love.

For in Christ, I have been given an identity that can never fade or be diminished, despite my many shortcomings and failures.  By sending his only Son Jesus into the world to purchase my redemption and restore my rights as his son, God demonstrated the inestimable value that I have to him.  Not because of any good works that I have done in his name.  But solely on the basis that he created me and has loved me with an everlasting love from before the creation of the world.  Contrary to all the identities I have assumed in the past, this one has been secured by Christ for eternity without any effort on my part to merit or preserve it.  In Christ, God has once and for all freed me from the bondage of proving to myself that I am good enough and worthy enough of the world’s love and acceptance.

Following my return home and rediscovering the simple joy of being God’s beloved, the allurement of leaving my home will once again begin to stir within me.  I am under no illusion that arriving home will once and for all satisfy my ceaseless striving for relevance and significance.  I’m fully aware that at some point in the very near future I will again be confronted with the question, “Am I enough?”  And when that time comes, I pray this experience will have taught me to stay at home in the loving embrace of the Father and resist the urge to venture out in another vain attempt to answer the question, “Who Are You?”