Identical Identity?

Dear one,

In mid-April of 1861, Lincoln invited Robert E. Lee to assume command of the Union forces, as a divided nation set to war against itself. Knowing that his native state, Virginia, would on April 17, 1861, secede, and determining that he could not fight against “his own people,” Lee declined Lincoln’s offer.

To our twenty-first century sensibilities, Lee’s decision seems antiquated if not simply narrow-minded and unreasonable. Were not “his own people” equally of Vermont and Pennsylvania? By taking up arms against them, was he not fighting “his own”? But of course, Lee’s line of thinking was shared by millions on both sides of the conflict. Numerous are the stories of mothers and sisters, of fathers and brothers encouraging their children and/or siblings to enter into what became the deadliest of American conflicts. But why was this?

In my mind a two-pronged answer emerges: First, in the mid-nineteenth century, death was viewed differently than our present American perception. Because death was understood as one of life’s givens, to die nobly while engaged in some great cause or undertaking was esteemed far more highly than to die from cholera, or consumption, or comfortably in old age. Lee sought to die nobly for “his people.” But second and perhaps the more important of these two prongs is found within the word “identity.” Lee identified himself as a “Virginian,” not as an “American,” even though his father was a famed Revolutionary War officer; even though his wife was the great-granddaughter of Martha Washington.

The word “identity” is derived from the Lain word, idem, which means “same,” even as the word “identical” conveys “sameness.” That is, one’s “identity” is directly related to those with whom one is like. Ironically, in a culture, which has repeatedly encouraged “be yourself,” if we speak in terms of “identity,” we really are speaking in terms of “sameness.” My identity then becomes whom I am most like, whom I choose or desire to be like. This isn't necessarily a negative phenomenon, but it is a factor of our being human: our identities have a direct correlation to family, friends, geopolitical regions and histories, etc.

As part of our present identity, we Americans enjoy and expect a broad spectrum of choices—from the clothes we wear to the foods we eat to the cars we drive. Moreover, in recent decades, we have increasingly had more choices, which then should not surprise us that we are increasingly divided one from the other. For with every choice, a defining process occurs, whereby “our people” are not “those others.”

I do not seek to suggest that one’s identity is something to be foresworn, like a curse or a disease; but I do offer that we heed Jesus’ words (which Lincoln did): a kingdom/nation/people divided against itself cannot stand (Mark 3:24). As we Protestants recognize, protests and division can become an identity. And equally, if not more so, may we heed His call to His Kingdom, where one enters as a child, and where its great ones are truly servants of all (Mark 10:15; 9:35). I would that His Kingdom might form my identity.

Stan