In America’s modern consumerism focused society, marketers have done a fantastic job at associating our identity with how much or what kind of stuff we own. This could be by twisting our own personal desire to stand out with bright colors, the newest car, or the latest trends that we see on social media or in advertisements. Our identity could also be “fitting in” by dressing like everyone else at work, church, and socially, or making sure that we have the newest iPhone to avoid those dreaded “green text messages.” Our identity becomes wrapped up in our nationality, politics, style, and favorite sports teams without even realizing it. The downside to this is how easily we can compare ourselves to others and see them as either better or worse than us. Our own identity is challenged by Michigan winning the national championship or our next door neighbor getting a brand new car.
Identity is not a new struggle. The beginning of the book of Exodus is a narrative masterpiece that begs the reader to explore the concept of identity. One of the main characters is simply identified as “a king who did not know Joseph,” while two seemingly insignificant midwives, Shiphrah and Puah, are called out by name. When Moses is born, he is born to an unknown mother and a father from the tribe of Levi (who are not named). He himself was not given a name for more than three months until a new mother stepped in and gave him a name with meanings in two languages. The meaning in Hebrew, “one who draws out,” is told to us with some heavy foreshadowing on what his identity may become, but the meaning of “Moses” in Egyptian presents us with a question that is going to shape the entire book. Moses, a common suffix that means “Son of,” was commonly attached to the current Pharaoh, or to gods of the Egyptians (i.e., Ramses would be “Son of Ra”), making us wonder, who Moses is the son of.
This ambiguity of Moses’ identity is something the writer latches on to as he takes us through his story. Is he an Egyptian when he lives in the house of a pharaoh? Is he an Israelite when he is striking a harsh Egyptian slave master? On first read it is difficult to answer the question of; “Who is Moses?” When he meets his future wife, Zipporah, she and her sisters have the same trouble describing him. He is, to her, an Egyptian who has drawn out water (Exodus 2:19). Once again, the book is blending his identity.
God has a different answer to this question for Moses when, in chapter 3:11 of Exodus, Moses tries to escape his calling by asking, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the children of Israel out of Egypt?” Notice the answer provided in verse 12, “He [God] said, “But I will be with you, and this shall be the sign for you, that I have sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall serve God on this mountain.” God doesn’t answer Moses’s concern over his identity directly; he instead answers it with an explanation of his own identity: I will be with you. That identity is not present just in this one answer, but instead becomes the subject of the conversation. God reveals to Moses his personal name, his promises to him and the Israelites whom he will deliver, and the signs of those promises. God removes the concerns Moses has of his Egyptian and Hebrew identity and replaces them with his presence. The Exodus narrative not only tells the story of Moses and his struggles with his identity, but of the entire nation of Israel. It tells the story of a God who shapes a nation with suffering and redemption, defeating enemies, with laws and rituals that will eventually allow them to be a nation whose identity is God’s own statement, “I will be with you.” The book of Exodus culminates in chapter 40 where the Lord’s presence is in the tabernacle in the middle of the people night and day.
It can feel easy to answer the question of who we are by examining our present circumstances like our job title, our favorite hobby, or by what sports team we follow. We may even blend these attributes with our faith, adding Christian as a tagline to our identity. Our identity should be shaped only by the presence of God in our lives; there is a reason many of the letters of Paul feature heavy emphasis on temple and tabernacle language. Paul even goes as far as to explicitly state this in 1 Cor. 6:19-20: “Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.” Like Exodus, this is not a story of a singular person but a community whose identity is God living and working inside of them to bring about a paradise on earth. Instead of defining ourselves with what we have, we should instead seek to define ourselves by how we, as followers of Jesus, work to dwell with him.
