It ain’t what they call you; it’s what you answer to.
—W. C. FIELDS
My name is Christopher Wayne Hodges.
My parents really didn’t have any rhyme or reason for choosing the names Christopher or Wayne; they just liked those names and the way they sounded together. As it turns out, the name Christopher means “Christ-bearer,” which seems fitting. I like the fact that my name and what I do are one and the same. Every year I have the opportunity to share the gospel of Jesus with hundreds of thousands of people. I represent Christ. I am a Christ-bearer. My name defines me accurately. It validates me. I like my name.
But it’s not the name I always believed.
Growing up, I wasn’t very popular. I didn’t have any athletic skills, I wasn’t very smart, and I was pretty shy. That led to some fairly intense bullying from those who saw me as someone they could pick on without any repercussions. I tried to avoid it, even laugh it off at times, but it didn’t work. I had to do something—anything—so I decided to win friends by taking on a new persona: Mischief Maker. I’d be the one to take the dare, crack the jokes, or do the ridiculous stunt just to make the crowd laugh—and hopefully accept me.
My strategy seemed to work, for a while. I made a few kids laugh, and I got noticed. But then I began getting into trouble on a regular basis. Basically, I was trying to live out a name that wasn’t who I really was. It was the name I thought I needed so I could find acceptance and be liked.
But when I turned fifteen years old, I gave my life to Jesus, and the process of healing and redeeming my name began. I discovered the calling on my life and a passion to share Christ with the world around me. Soon I had no doubt in my mind that I had been named by God—that I had a God-given identity that he knew before I was even created. But I could only be the man he created me to be if I understood and accepted my true name.
What’s in a Name?
I learned the hard way that names are important. What we believe about ourselves influences every decision we make and every action we take. And that’s why, when my wife, Tammy, and I started having children, we decided to be very intentional about naming our children: Sarah Beth, Michael Robert, David William, Jonathan Bryan, and Joseph Christopher.
Okay, the truth is, we just liked the name we gave our daughter, Sarah. There wasn’t any deep spiritual reasoning. We’re from the South and had just moved to Colorado when she was born, so we wanted something that sounded Southern. Later we discovered that Sarah means “princess,” and she reflects this royal quality in every way.
When we started naming the boys, we came up with a formula: a biblical or Hebrew first name followed by a family name.
• Michael (after the archangel) Robert (after my dad)
• David (after the giant-slayer, psalmist, and king) William (after Tammy’s dad)
• Jonathan (after David’s best friend) Bryan (after my grandfather Alvin Bryan)
• Joseph (after the son of Jacob in Genesis) Christopher (after me)
Curiously enough, we’ve noticed over the years that each of our boys embodies the traits of both the Bible character and the person in the family for whom they’re named. Coincidence? Maybe. But there is something to this name thing.
Of course, we all have names. Whether or not we reflect the characteristics of our given names at birth is not the point. What matters most is the name we have written on our hearts and minds. It’s what we believe about ourselves and then live out.
Maybe you were labeled “stupid” or “fat” as a kid, and despite earning a college degree or running 5Ks, you still see yourself based on those childhood labels.
Perhaps you’ve let sickness define you. Cancer or diabetes or MS is not only your disease, but it’s also become your identity.
You might let your relationships define you. You’re a husband or wife, an ex, a sister or brother, a boss, an employee.
Perhaps rejection, divorce, and betrayal have become your identity.
You may have let circumstances determine your name. Maybe the death of a loved one, tragedy, or bankruptcy have become your identity.
The names you allow to label you often title the scripts you live by.
What’s your name right now? What are the names you secretly feel are attached to you like gum on the bottom of your shoe? It’s important to identify these. The names you allow to label you often title the scripts you live by. What you believe in dictates what you live out.
This explains why the number one goal of your Enemy, the Devil, is to attack your identity. He wants to give you a different name—one that stands in direct contrast to the name God gave you when he created you.
Identity Theft
We live in a world where people have become adept at doing what is right in their own eyes, defining their identities according to their own constantly shifting ideas. From school-age children who want to change their genders to couples of the same gender planning their weddings, it’s increasingly acceptable to pursue what feels right.
“Live your own truth” has become a bumper-sticker mantra for generations conditioned to believe they are entitled to reinvent themselves and live any way they choose. Reality TV portrays how anyone can be a star—models, bachelors, chefs, home buyers, politicians, and tattoo artists—as long as they remain “true to themselves.”
I can see why this idea might be appealing, this freedom to embrace the desires our hearts harbor within them. After all, if I allowed my feelings to dictate my decisions, I probably wouldn’t qualify to be a pastor. Instead, I’d be trying to make as much money as possible in order to create the most comfortable, pleasurable life possible, playing golf at every great course around the world. And while I may still struggle with those desires sometimes, I know I can’t trust them to determine what’s ultimately best for me. God has created me and called me for his purposes, not my own.
No matter how much I might wish I were a millionaire golf pro, I know that’s not the life I’m called to live. The truth is, we don’t have the privilege of defining ourselves, and there are limits to how far we can reinvent ourselves. Why? The reason is simple: we’ve already been defined by God, our Creator. God knows who he made each of us to be, and in the end his design is always better than what we come up with on our own.
Daniel understood this core truth. His faith in God tethered him to it throughout his time in captivity. Steeped in a culture that elevated sensual pleasure, idol worship, and moral decadence, the Babylonians focused on many things other than God. And as they sought to assimilate their new subjects, they tried to pull Daniel and his fellow captives into their lifestyle by casting shadows on their identities. Notice the very first thing that happened to Daniel and his friends once they arrived in Babylon:
Then the king ordered Ashpenaz, chief of his court officials, to bring into the king’s service some of the Israelites from the royal family and the nobility—young men without any physical defect, handsome, showing aptitude for every kind of learning, well informed, quick to understand, and qualified to serve in the king’s palace. . . .
The chief official gave them new names: to Daniel, the name Belteshazzar; to Hananiah, Shadrach; to Mishael, Meshach; and to Azariah, Abednego. (Dan. 1:3–4, 7)
In those days, when victors integrated enslaved captives into their own culture, it was customary to change the captives’ names as a sign of ownership. The Israelites belonged to their captors now; no longer would they be known by their old names from their homeland. But these Babylonian names weren’t simply different names; these new names were meant to obliterate the Israelites’ identities.
They were a mockery to their Jewish heritage.
They turned truth inside out.
They were idolatrous names.
By comparing the original and Babylonian names of these four Hebrew young men, we get a clear picture of our Enemy’s strategy, the same one he uses on us today: he labels us with a new name so he can lie to us about a false identity. Let’s take a closer look at how this happened with Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah.
From Daniel: “God is my judge” to Belteshazzar: “Lady, protect the king”
The first thing the Babylonians did was change the gender of Daniel’s name—an inherent part of each person’s identity. They also shifted the focus from God to human. With this new name, Daniel’s identity, at least on paper, changed from a man held accountable by an all-powerful God to that of a woman who must protect her sovereign. In their culture, this was a terrible insult. The meaning of Daniel’s new name was the antithesis of his former Hebrew name.
From Hananiah: “Yahweh has been gracious” to Shadrach: “I am fearful of God”
The Babylonians inverted the focus from God being good to God being bad. Instead of viewing him as gracious, kind, and loving (all implied by the name Hananiah), this new name echoed with the kind of fear you’d feel standing before a tyrant, a maniac, or a monster.
From Mishael: “Who can compare to my God? No one!” to Meshach: “I am despised, contemptible, and humiliated”
Once again, the Babylonians chose a name that subverted the goodness of God in our relationship to him. It shifted the focus from our confidence in God to cowardice.
From Azariah: “Yahweh has helped” to Abednego: “The servant of Nebo”
Azariah went from being a son or heir of Yahweh, a term of endearment for the living God, to being the slave of another man.
As you can see, in every case, the Hebrew captives’ new names obliterated the true nature of God that had been represented by their names and reoriented their identities to become people who served their Babylonian masters.
Let’s review these shifts in identity:
HEBREW NAME/MEANING |
BABYLONIAN NAME/MEANING |
SHIFT |
Daniel: “God is my judge” |
Belteshazzar: “Lady, protect the king” |
Male ⇒ female Focus on God ⇒ focus on man All-powerful God ⇒ God/king who needs protecting |
Hananiah: “Yahweh has been gracious” |
Shadrach: “I am fearful of God” |
Gracious, loving God ⇒ tyrannical God to be feared Focus on God ⇒ focus on self |
Mishael: “Who can compare to my God? No one!” |
Meshach: “I am despised, contemptible, and humiliated” |
Focus on God ⇒ focus on self Confidence ⇒ cowardice |
Azariah: “Yahweh has helped” |
Abednego: “the servant of Nebo” |
Son of God ⇒ slave of man |
We don’t have to ponder for long to realize our Enemy’s attempt to make this kind of inside-out identity change continues all these years later. Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah were subjected to new names that rejected the truth about who God is and who they were in light of that. We still see the Enemy looking for opportunities to cast confusion on God’s goodness and our identities today.
Consider, for example, the way society continues to redefine gender, gender relationships, and marriage, which is reminiscent of the gender change in Daniel’s renaming. Things that were once inherent to who we are have now become flexible and up for debate. Our culture claims these qualities can be shaped to suit what a person wants with no regard for God’s original design. But you and I know this is not true! There is purpose in how God makes us, and we must clearly know who we are in Christ to stand firm instead of acquiescing to who our culture says we should be.
Another way the Enemy tries to change our identities is by making it seem foolish to remain faithful to God. In Daniel’s day, this attempt to shift perceptions about God was approached in a tribal way, often through conquest and assimilation. These days it’s done through many different methods, from comedy and satire to controversy and scandal within the church. If the Devil can discredit the Bible and disgrace the church through division, dissension, and immorality, then he’s succeeded.
As a result, most Christians today are intimidated by the world. We’ve become convinced we should keep our faith private, relegated to church one day a week. The world is so bold in expressing its multitude of beliefs, convictions, and “personal truths,” while Christians are shamed into silence, so embarrassed by their faith that they become apologetic in a way that has nothing to do with sharing the gospel.
This is exactly what our Enemy wants to accomplish through a cultural identity change. He wants to distract us from focusing on our relationships with God and instead get us to focus on pleasing others, being enslaved to their approval. It’s easy to get caught up in the number of likes, Facebook friends, positive comments, and retweets we can accumulate. It feels good to have this seemingly clear proof that we have value, that our choices have value, that they are right. It’s intoxicating, this twenty-four-hour access to continual validation.
I struggle with the desire to please others as much as anyone. We might have an amazing service on Sunday with record-breaking attendance and more than a hundred decisions for Christ, and yet it only takes one negative, critical e-mail about that service to ruin my day. Instead of giving God glory for all the wonderful things that happened in that service, I get hung up wondering what I could do to please that one person who didn’t like our church. I have to remind myself it’s not about what I’m doing; it’s about what God’s doing through me, through others, through the church.
Our identities shift when we value those looking at the art more than the Artist.
Otherwise, this shift in focus, this distraction, this change in who we orient our lives around, accomplishes the exact same thing as the changing of captives’ names in ancient Babylon. Our identities shift when we value those looking at the art more than the Artist.
Your New (Old) Name
When culture shifts, we need to know who we are. Scripture tells us this truth: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations” (Jer. 1:5). You are who God made you to be. You are a unique, beloved child of the Lord of the universe, your Creator, Redeemer, and Savior. You have a unique purpose for your life that no one else has had or will ever have. You are a coheir with Jesus, adopted into the family of the King and granted eternal life with him in heaven after your mortal life on earth has ended (Rom. 8:17). This is your true identity.
Unless we’re grounded in who God made us to be, the way we see ourselves will easily morph into an illusion—a cultural mirage. The truth of who we are will still be unshaken, but it will be covered with a veneer of lies. How does this happen? We lose sight of our God-given identity and act according to an off-kilter mental self-portrait: “For as he thinks in his heart, so is he” (Prov. 23:7 NKJV).
Our Enemy has become adept at convincing us to accept false labels. First, he gets us to accept cultural definitions of who we are. When we do, others around us get to create the standards for how we measure up—or more often, how we don’t.
From peer pressure to cultural standards of beauty and success, our society continually directs our focus to external qualities. Stereotypes, or labels for people largely based on their appearances, rely on the same strategy. They reduce us to the lowest common denominator until we see ourselves, and eventually others, as only a redneck, a blonde, plus-sized, or disabled. These may be our physical characteristics, some of which affect our perspectives and worldviews, but they don’t define who we are. Many of us would say we know that, but if we hear people tell us often enough that we’re no good because of some trait, then we may start to believe it, however subconsciously.
Another way the Enemy utilizes false labels is by convincing us to allow our past to define who we are. He calls us “liar” or “hypocrite,” “failure” or “unclean.” This is the big one—the struggle so many of us have that drags us down and undermines our faith. We overlook the fact that God knows every moment of our past and loves us as if he didn’t. In fact, he wants to redeem our past, but too often we get in the way because we refuse to let go of our old labels.
The glorious truth is that when we let God control our lives, he gives us a new identity. We see this gift displayed in the Bible in the way God so frequently changed the names of those people who encountered his love and forgiveness in a dramatic way. Jacob went from being a coward, who deceived his father and conned his brother out of his birthright, to being Israel, the nation of God’s chosen people. Abram went from being a wandering nomad with a problem telling the truth, to Abraham, an unlikely father at an old age whom God blessed for all generations. Then there were Peter (Simeon) and Paul (Saul) in the New Testament—two more examples of new identities proclaimed by new names.
Actually, these identities were not really new; they were the ones Israel, Abraham, Peter, and Paul were always supposed to have. They just hadn’t fully stepped into who God had made them to be until God marked them and called them by new names. And it wasn’t until they gave up trying to control their own lives that they realized the fulfillment of who they’d been born to be.
This is certainly true in my own experience. I felt insecure and uncomfortable around people as I was growing up, so I compensated by acting out and trying to be funny all the time. And it wasn’t until I faced my fears and trusted God with them, wanting his approval more than anyone else’s, that I felt the freedom to preach, teach, and be the leader God created me to be.
God doesn’t see what you are based on where you are now; he sees what you can become based on where he wants to take you.
In almost every name-changing story in the Bible, after an encounter with God, a person’s identity becomes more authentically revealed. They experience the freedom to stop living by cultural constraints and to start living in spiritual freedom. And the same can be true for us. God doesn’t see what you are based on where you are now; he sees what you can become based on where he wants to take you. He knows the actualities, but he sees possibilities. He recognizes what you’re capable of doing and activates the greatness in you that you don’t see in yourself. When you give him control of your life, he’ll give you back your name!
All the Wrong Places
I recently had surgery on my shoulder to repair my rotator cuff, and it took me a few months to recover. During this time, I couldn’t enjoy one of my favorite pastimes: playing golf. My need for surgery and the length of my recovery also forced me to confront my age and realize my body is not the same as it used to be.
As I started thinking about aging, suddenly I saw a new gray hair every morning when I looked in the mirror. I also noticed a few wrinkles that I didn’t remember seeing before. My surgery made me slow down, and when I did, my eyes were opened. While I still thought of myself as a relatively young man, my body had started sending me some other signals.
Suddenly, I understood why some people experience this reality called a midlife crisis and do everything in their power to fight the onset of age. Maybe they have plastic surgery or begin coloring their hair. Some trade in their family sedan for a sleek new sports car. Others even go so far as to divorce their spouses and find much younger partners. All in an attempt to avoid something natural and inevitable.
It does make sense, though. When we’re not connected to our God-given identities, we will plug in to other outlets to define ourselves. For some of us, it’s our physical appearance and an attempt to remain beautiful and youthful. But the truth is: we all get older and life takes its toll on us. Scripture reminds us that real beauty emanates from the inside. “The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart” (1 Sam. 16:7).
Others of us define ourselves based on performance. We might experience a sense of self-worth only when people validate us for what we do and how we do it. We try to impress others with our latest achievement, award, or accomplishment. But it’s never enough; no matter how much we achieve or how famous we become, the emptiness inside remains. “Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done and what I had toiled to achieve, everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind; nothing was gained under the sun” (Eccl. 2:11).
It’s only after we embrace our true identities that work becomes purposeful and meaningful—perhaps because we know we’re not defined by our performance. We do our best and can take satisfaction in giving our all regardless of the outcome. We don’t have to win a gold medal, become a millionaire, or launch a nonprofit to know our self-worth. We’re God’s beloved sons and daughters—period! There’s nothing we have to do to earn God’s love, forgiveness, or grace. He gives them freely. “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast” (Eph. 2:8–9).
Finally, many of us attempt to define ourselves by our possessions and monetary worth. We let money rule our lives and try to enjoy the fleeting moments of false security based on the number in our bank accounts or market portfolios. Unfortunately, money sometimes only insulates us from discovering who we really are. We might have everything money can buy but still feel disappointed by our lives. We learn the hard way that “life does not consist in an abundance of possessions” (Luke 12:15).
Let me just stop here and say, if you’ve ever placed your identity in your physical appearance, performance, possessions, or anything else, you are not alone. We have all found ourselves grasping at things other than God to fill the deep places of our hearts only meant for him. But if we recognize this, we can continue to work toward staying connected to the God who made us, knows us, and loves us. To become anchored by the knowledge of who God made us to be, we must see ourselves the way he sees us.
How do we do this? Perhaps the first step in this process is recognizing the biblical truth that every person is born for a specific season. “From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands” (Acts 17:26).
God chose us and has always loved us. He determined when we would be born and when we will die. “For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight” (Eph. 1:4). We can take comfort in knowing that our Father specifically chose this place in all of time and history for our lives to exist.
You can also rest in the knowledge that within your unique identity, you have a very specific purpose. Not only did God create you to live in this particular season, but he gave you just the right personality, abilities, talents, and gifts to accomplish what you’re called to do. You are not an accident. You are here on purpose for a purpose. And once you know your purpose in life, you will more clearly understand your true identity. Then nothing can stop you. Others may try to apply labels of their own, and some may even seem accurate, but when you live out of your God-given identity, these false labels can’t stick. Your awareness of being the person God made you to be permeates everything you do, every decision you make, and every risk you take. Purpose is your identity in action. It reflects your identity and helps you understand it more clearly.
We see this in the lives of several biblical characters. From the time Moses was a baby saved from death by his wily mother and Pharaoh’s daughter, he knew God had created him for a special purpose. Even when Moses balked at being a leader because of his fears and insecurities, he couldn’t deny God’s presence in his life and the unique ways God guided him. Pharaoh thought he could contain the Hebrew people under Moses’ leadership, but God clearly knew otherwise. Ultimately, God called Moses to be a deliverer, even as Moses’ cultural circumstances tried to derail him from living out this purpose.
Purpose is your identity in action.
Raised as an Egyptian prince, which many might consider a positive label, Moses couldn’t escape his Hebrew heritage. Then, later on, living as a fugitive and a wanted criminal (obviously a bad label) Moses still couldn’t hide from God, who spoke his calling to him directly through the burning bush. Even when Moses protested with excuses about his stutter and inability to speak publicly, he couldn’t deny who God made him to be. He was eventually compelled to obey God and lead as the deliverer he had been fashioned to be (Ex. 2–4).
Joseph’s life also demonstrated this same inescapable sense of purpose and identity, even as he lived through some terrible trials. Despite being sold into slavery by his brothers and jailed for a crime he didn’t commit, Joseph didn’t simply accept whatever new identities his captors pressed on him. He remained faithful and allowed God to use him and his gifts. While Joseph might have been tempted to allow his harsh circumstances to define him and his purpose, instead he kept his faith in God and remained obedient to be the man God created him to be. And, you’ll recall, Joseph’s faithfulness was rewarded as he saved the people of Egypt and Israel during the terrible famine God had revealed to him beforehand (Gen. 37–47).
How about you? Have you seen your purpose, your true identity, emerge yet? If you already know your God-given purpose, then I celebrate with you and encourage you to press on. Take comfort during challenging times and trust God to see you through them, knowing you are exactly where he wants you to be, doing what you were made to do. And if you’re still searching for your divine purpose, then keep seeking what God has for you. Don’t give up until he reveals to your heart your special mission in this life. Remember what’s true: “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them” (Eph. 2:10 ESV).
Finally, to own the fullness of your identity in Christ, consider how you can help the people around you be true to their own God-given identities. I’m not talking about telling them who you think they should be but rather looking for opportunities when another person’s pain, discomfort, or current struggle results from not knowing who God made them to be. Jesus set us free so that we can help liberate others, but often this means beginning more subtly instead of storming in like soldiers on a black ops mission.
Maybe it’s helping your kids think through the enormous peer pressure they’re under, listening carefully before sharing some of your own experiences at their age along with the timeless truth of God’s Word about pleasing God rather than people. It might be having coffee with a friend who seems to be experimenting with her lifestyle, again only so you can listen to her heart and the pain she carries there. Perhaps it’s grabbing lunch with a guy from your small group who has hinted at his battle to remain faithful to his wife.
Just remember: we all struggle to remember our true identities. Almost everyone around us is carrying some secret, some burden, some painful weight when we encounter them. We don’t want to force ourselves on them and intrude, but we can make ourselves available to listen and to care. Listening and caring are fundamental building blocks we must have if we’re ever going to establish a strong, respectful relationship in which to share God’s truth.
The rapids of culture will always try to sweep us downstream, away from who God created us to be. And the Enemy of our souls will always look for opportunities to undermine our true identities as God’s divinely designed children. All the more reason to dwell on the certainty of who God says we are and to be motivated by living out the purpose for which he made us. This lifeline of truth will keep us afloat no matter how high cultural waters may rise.
No one can name you, or rename you, no matter what.
God knows who you are.
But you need to know too.
And now you can help remind others who they really are as well.