You Are Not, You Do

Some things about a person are determined, while other things are freely chosen. We often speak of the determined things as unchangeable aspects of our identity: “I’m short,” “I’m Italian,” “I’m one of four children.” In contrast, we often speak of chosen things as actions we perform: “I try to stay in shape,” “I drink a lot of coffee,” “I read Phil’s blog.” But sometimes we blur these two categories of things.

Granted, we may use language flexibly as a type of shorthand. If you offer me a ham sandwich, I may appropriately respond that I am a vegetarian – for in this situation, I am merely calling your attention to my vegetarianism; I am not attempting to explain or defend it. But if, on the other hand, we are having a discussion about vegetarianism, then I cannot rightly rest with saying “I’m a vegetarian,” and you cannot rightly rest with saying “I’m not.” We must instead delve into these labels we use to identify ourselves, realize that they represent free actions, and examine the conclusions and judgments which motivate those actions. This is also how we must treat theological labels: we must realize that theological labels represent free choices, and we must consider the reasons for those choices.

So if the aforementioned ham sandwich were offered to a Muslim, he or she could very well use the aforementioned shorthand and simply say, “I’m a Muslim” – for he or she would merely want to point out the body of Muslim beliefs and practices, including dietary ones, and would not be immediately concerned with explaining or championing Islam. But quite often we use this same language of identity, or of determined characteristics, as a full answer rather than as shorthand – but it is not a full answer. In thoughtful conversation, such language about theological commitments is a beginning, not an end.

Consider what’s really going on when I say “I’m Catholic,” or “I’m an Evangelical,” or “I’m a Calvinist,” or “I’m not religious.” Those statements mirror the grammar of a statement like “I’m Italian,” but they actually represent a large set of statements like “I drink a lot of coffee” – statements about my free choices. The adoption of a theological label may sound like a statement about my unchangeable identity, but it is actually a statement about my choices. “I’m an Evangelical” does not mean “I inherited Evangelical genes from my parents, and was thereby determined to be an Evangelical from cradle to grave”; it means “I believe that God exists, I believe that God became incarnate in Jesus Christ, I believe that God inspired the Bible, I attend church regularly,” etc. Each belief and practice communicated by the claim to be an Evangelical is then open to consideration and scrutiny. As another example, “I’m not religious” does not mean “I was raised without practicing any religion, and am thereby absolutely bound to never practice religion,” but it means something like “I do not currently believe or practice any religion,” or “I believe that no religion is binding upon me,” or “I believe that there is nothing beyond the physical world.” And again, the beliefs and practices encompassed in “not being religious” are open to consideration and scrutiny. For change in these areas is entirely possible; it is not like an Italian becoming 100% Korean, but is like someone choosing to decrease their coffee intake.

A theological label does not represent an unalterable identity, but represents a set of moral and intellectual choices – and we are responsible for these choices.