I had a fight the other day.
It was a conflict of
opinion, a clash of personalities (if you will), and the other person was being "insensitive" (I felt) so I went
with a knee-jerk reaction and dished it right back out at them. In
their face! They should know better than to argue with me or expect me to act in a way more suited to who they want me to be. I'm a
deep-thinker and highly sensitive; I react strongly to being told I am
wrong.
IT'S JUST WHO I AM.
My personality type.
My zodiac sign.
My sixteen-point profile.
My "spiritual gift."
ME.
I
have been wrestling with this concept and the inherent issue for quite
some time, and I just recently got some new inspiration, so I am hoping
that by trying to organize things in this blog post, I may be able to
make sense of it for myself, and perhaps help others at the same time.
THE CONCEPT: Who We Are
Who
are you? How would you describe yourself to a total stranger? An online
acquaintance? A prospective employer? A prospective date? A friend? A
long-lost relative?
How would you describe yourself to God?
The
thing I have noticed in all these personality quizzes that are taking
social media by storm, the thing I observed in real life that brought on
this problem is that:
All the quizzes in existence have a limited number of results. And none of them will be completely, 100 percent ME.
As Rocket says... |
And we are okay with that.
I
kid you not, one quiz, I knew exactly the outcome I wanted, and I knew
exactly how to choose my answers to get that outcome—and I got what I
wanted.
Getting into a box is very easy, no? You just have to
go through the motions. Give all the right answers, whether you believe
them or not. Either that, or your choices are A, B, or C. You can't just
go and make up a choice M because it would be more accurate. So you
pick the "lesser of two unrelatables" because it's cool or it's the best
option the quiz has to offer.
But how does
this play out in real life? It's not as easy to fake your way into a
"box" with actual live interactions. No, there is where the real you
comes out; the "you" that is unlike anybody else. The "you" that is so
engrained into the very fiber of your being that your first response is
as reflexive as a knee jerk.
See where I'm going with this?
We
each of us have an identity in ourselves. That identity is as much a
part of us as our own skin. It's as much a part of our actions as
breathing, and requires about as much concentration. We can no easier
ignore this identity of ours, with its drives and its flaws, than we can
peel our own skin off down to the muscle. We end up with these
reactions because we don't want to think about what our response is
doing to the other person. That takes a level of personal responsibility
that requires NOT thinking about our own feelings for a moment—and
that's not something we want to give up.
Side
note: May I make an extra point here that identity has nothing to do
with gender? In this day and age, when people are trying to say that
gender is just a state of mind—to which I say: "You can swap the gender,
but the person will still have the same problems." A vain,
self-absorbed, unrestrained, discontented man will become a vain,
self-absorbed, unrestrained, discontented woman. The appearance changed,
but the identity did not. (Just a passing thought, with not as much
weight as the rest of this post... But still something to consider...)
THE ISSUE: When We Are Redeemed
The
issue, once we've identified ourselves, is then what we do with that
identity; how we use it to excuse ourselves when we are being rude
("It's just how my brain works!") or selfish ("I can't help who I am!")
or greedy ("I need to be treated in this way or I don't feel loved!")
and justify our behavior ("It's just who I am! You're asking me to
change myself?") in pride—
There's the problem with this. I
cannot see that the way I am acting is "wrong" if it feels "right"
according to "my personality."
In thinking
about this issue of identity, I suddenly recalled the scene in "The
Voyage of the Dawn Treader," when Eustace visits an island and "becomes"
a dragon.
We can all look at the fictional
character's behavior in the book and agree that, if there ever was an
anthropomorphic dragon, he would have the same reactions and behaviors
as Eustace.
What if I concluded, then, that the magic on the
island didn't turn Eustace into a dragon, it manifested the dragon that
was his true identity? If you recall, he still had all his memories and
human cognizance he was the same Eustace on the inside. Only his
appearance had changed.
Eustace is us; there
will come a time when we will, if we do not deal with it, become the
very thing we fear, the thing we do not understand–and yet something we
recognize all too clearly as what was deep inside us suddenly bursts to
the forefront overnight, creating chaos and driving away those closest
to us.
What happens when we are redeemed?
It's
a word that those of us who have heard the Gospel and believed
understand. We Christians are familiar with the concept: Jesus Christ redeemed the
souls of anyone who would believe Him and place their faith in Him as
Lord, and He did it by dying by crucifixion and taking the blame for our
sin in the eyes of His Father, the Almighty God. God recognized the
sacrifice and the shed blood of His Son as full payment for the
judgement that we had earned by the mere fact that we were born with the
personalities and the proclivity to know what it meant to behave the
way He wanted and do the opposite: live for our own comfort, success,
and the pursuit of what makes us happy.
Back to
Eustace: what happens once the dragon is manifested? If you've read the
book, you know how it continues. Eustace encounters Aslan (the
allegorical representation of Christ) and is instructed to "undress."
In other words, he must remove his own skin.
Remember
what I said about our identity being part of us like the skin we wear?
Early societies believed the seat of the person to be somewhere among
the internal organs, like the heart. I say "skin" when referring to the
identity of our person because it is an incredibly resilient organ. Burn
it, slice it, stretch it, pierce it—it will always grow back. It is
constantly refreshing itself, but we never notice because in the absence of any drastic and direct changes to affect the growth, the new is
just about the exact same as the old, right down to the cellular level.
Plus, it's the only organ not relegated to one area, but spread out over
the entire body. It's the thing keeping our insides from becoming our
outsides. It's the first line of defense our body has so that the very
air around us doesn't poison us. Without our skin, we would just be a
pile of innards and bones, barely contained in muscle, tissue and
tendons.
Without our identities, we wouldn't know ourselves from any other.
Sure gives a new meaning to what you may have (till now) assumed was a children's book, doesn't it?
Anyway,
Eustace is on the path to redemption, trying to do his almighty best to
oblige Aslan and get his skin off—but every time he tries, there's
always another layer.
I highly doubt Lewis was implying
solely that the human personality is comprised of layer upon layer of
complexity, even in one's own view of oneself. What he may have been
implying was that, in all of the self-driven efforts to follow God's
direction when He wants us to "put off the old man" as Paul says (Ephesians 4:22-24)—there's
always a part of ourselves that we have become blind to, a
skin-within-the-skin that we don't even know is there. We can't see it,
but it is the root of our identity, and as long as it's still there, our
personality will not change. As long as our personality doesn't change,
we aren't really doing that "putting off" thing that God wants, so that
He can "put on the new man" and give us fresh clean identities to
replace our ugly, knobby dragon scales.
Aslan
didn't just wash away the dragon scales to reveal the boy underneath.
Our identities as redeemed believers and Christians come from a
different Source than our first identities did.
When
Eustace finally figured out that he couldn't ever possibly "undress" to
satisfy Aslan's requirement, Aslan Himself steps in and strips all of
the skin clear away, down to the bone. (The Disney movie did not do it
justice; it was more vivid in the BBC miniseries version, but also
poorer cinematic quality... Bugger...) Eustace describes this last skin as deeper
and darker and so much more revolting than the others. But once Aslan
had essentially removed all of his dragon-skin (meant to represent his
sinful identity, remember), Eustace is then available to receive a fresh
new boy-skin.
Putting off, and putting on. I
never understood it before. I was like Eustace, trying to unburden
myself and discard the nebulous "sin nature" for which I blamed all the
mistakes I was making. But in reality, Jesus–like Aslan—stood there
beside me and said, "Let Me do it this time, child." Paul talks about it
like it's our job, but really, we are only allowing Jesus to do the
work of putting off and putting on; it really is the most effective
method.
Eustace with his fresh boy-skin given
to him by Aslan after He had removed the old dragon-skin is markedly
different than the Eustace that had been at the beginning of the book.
Lewis takes care to point that out several times in the rest of the
book. Some might attribute it to his having "learned his lesson"—but
what if it was because the "new skin" carried a sense of new identity
with it? After all, if this story was meant to be an allegory, it
wouldn't do to represent Jesus as this mystical being whose purpose it
was to merely "teach lessons" like another Confucius or Buddha. He came
to CHANGE DRAGONS INTO BOYS.
CONCLUSION: What Has Christ Redeemed?
Recalling how Eustace described his old skin reminded me of a quote from Lloyd Alexander's "Book of Three":
"Once
you have courage to look upon evil, seeing it for what it is and naming
it by its true name, it is powerless against you, and you can destroy
it." (p. 216)
Now, this leaves a divine force
out of the picture entirely, but the concept, I think, is key to
understanding how we have been redeemed, and what to do about the sin
that still crops up because, unlike Eustace, we haven't turned into
dragons yet, so our "skin changing" actually happened on the inside,
which makes it harder to recognize.
The key, according to the
quote, is having the courage to identify any responses, attitudes,
thoughts, and behaviors that a redeemed person should not have, to call
it for what it is, and cling to our redemption from that thing. Once we
disown these things, it is gratifyingly simple to let Jesus step in and
remove our propensity toward that habit, replacing it with His own
corresponding response.
Think of it this way:
If
I have been redeemed, but I still claim the right to get angry when my
preferences have been violated and my comfort is in jeopardy—has Christ
not redeemed my attitude?
If I have been redeemed, but I still
like to entertain certain thoughts and desires because "that's just the
way my mind works"—has Christ not redeemed my mind?
If I have
been redeemed, and yet I still argue and demand validation from people,
engage in gossip and slander, and I reserve my right to complain about
my circumstances because "It's just my personality"—has Christ not
redeemed my habits?
If I have been redeemed, yet I remain
belligerent, defiant, prideful, and say hurtful things to others and
about others, but pass it off as "It's just the negative side of my
spiritual gift"—has not Christ redeemed these gifts He has designed not
for my own ego or my own fulfillment, nor the disparaging of others, but
for their encouragement?
We know good and well
when our behaviors and choices hurt someone else. When we chalk these
negative attitudes and behaviors as "who I am," it is disregarding the
"new skin" we have been given. When we can realize that Christ has
redeemed WHO WE ARE IN OUR MOST INSTINCTIVE RESPONSES, we should then be
able to see clearly enough to choose "redeemed" over "born this way,"
and the more we do this, the more it allows our habits and attitudes to
be changed by His redemption, and we can recognize those bad habits and
attitudes for what they are, and break the cycle.
My
pastor told a story in his sermon on this point. I'm not sure of the
source, and I missed a bit of the story, but as much as I can remember,
it goes like this:
There was a man with a habit
of sleeping around with different women. By and by, Christ redeemed
him, and he began to respond to the adulterous urges less and less, so
that they no longer were a part of his desires. A while later, he
happened to cross paths with one of the women he used to visit
regularly—but this time, he passed her by without a second glance.
"Hey!" She called after him. "Don't you remember me?"
"I remember who you are," he replied, "but I am not me anymore."
Friends,
if we have been redeemed, WE ARE NOT OURSELVES. The less we avail
ourselves of that excuse, the more we are able to adjust to the new
"skin" Christ has given us, and become more and more like real boys
instead of dragons.
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