“More Christian than African-American” is the title of a book that got my attention. I was listening to the author, Kimberly Cash Tate, be a guest facilitator on the Discover the Word podcast and had to pause the series (you can listen to it here). What a bold proclamation in a time when identity politics reigns. My brain flooded with thoughts and questions provoked by that book title.
Am I more Christian than Latina?
more Christian than Panamanian or Puerto Rican?
more Christian than being a woman?
more Christian than being a wife?
more Christian than being a mama?
more Christian than being a daughter or sister?
more Christian than being a friend?
more Christian than being heterosexual?
more Christian than being a nurse?
more Christian than being a US Army Veteran?
more Christian than being a UF Alumnus?
Then
I spent the better part of my adolescence and early adulthood weighing and prioritizing the identities that defined me. The undertaking of weighing and prioritizing my identity was no light affair. My experience as a woman of color, a Latina, was the lens through which I examined everything. My first degree was in philosophy and I learned the constructs of theory and paradigms. I questioned why things were the way they were. I practiced what I learned as I held leadership positions in both a feminist group and a Puertorrican student group.
My feminist beliefs, in particular, were a barrier to my knowing Jesus. I justified refusing to read the bible because in my mind it was written by a bunch of crusty old men, centuries ago, who didn’t care about women.
But the hound of heaven was as relentless as he was patient in his pursuit, slowly bringing me to him. He lovingly pierced my heart with music that shared the Truth.
Identity was one of the first “sheddings” I experienced when I accepted Jesus into my heart.
Paul makes it very clear in Galatians what our identity is:
“For you are all children of God through faith in Christ Jesus. And all who have been united with Christ in baptism have put on Christ, like putting on new clothes. There is no longer Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male or female. For you are all one in Christ Jesus.”
Galatians 3:27 (NLT)
Now
In lifting my eyes to the One who gives me hope, I shed my garments of sin that kept me prisoner for so many years. I shed the garments of identity that said I belong to this tribe or that. When I put on my new robe of righteousness, I proclaim my identity as the daughter of the King of Kings and creator of heaven and earth.
This does not mean I can’t enjoy the beauty of my beloved culture or savor the sweetness of hearing my daughter’s voice saying “mama.” On the contrary, every aspect of my life is enriched and brightened by the one relationship I finally submitted to….Jesus. There is no life without Him, so why would my identity lie with any one or any thing else first?
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