To have an identity is to be unique, to be distinguished, to have connection with others, to have history, to belong. In late 2014 a worldwide gathering focused on the plight of global migration. The circumstances of consensual journey and forced displacement detailed the ever-shifting movement of humankind. Perhaps the most disturbing revelation focused on war refugees. They flee their homes and homelands in search of safety, which is often short-lived. As they make their way to new places, many become victims of the excruciating dangers of their perilous journeys or of disingenuous promises of freedom and security extended by the unscrupulous.
Many who do escape armed conflict find themselves in a doubly disturbing predicament. They are no longer in their place of origin, with known ways and language. And then, to compound that misery, they frequently discover that their home areas no longer exist and, in some cases, even their country vanishes.
Simply put, they have no identity. No place to call home. They hardly know themselves any more.
The Exodus journey was like that, in a way . . . and yet very different. The people of that pilgrimage have a tangible sense of God’s presence with them. They are not abandoned. Moses exclaims to his Creator, “We shall be distinct, I and your people, from every people on the face of the earth.” Moses lays claim to a unique identity that finds expression in the mutual relationship of God to God’s people and they to their God.
Quite a number of years ago a claim was boldly, publicly declared, “I am somebody!” That’s true—uniquely and individually. We are all somebody, and our lives matter, most especially in relationship to the Creator God.