Identity

For those of you who may not be aware, I have an online dating profile.  I'm not sure if I've made this fact explicitly clear on this blog before, but sufficient to say that I found I wasn't meeting many new people in my grinding routine of school-work-study, and figured that opening up new lines of communication wouldn't be a bad idea.  But all of this is irrelevant, except for the fact that it provides the context for my real purpose, which is to talk about identity.

I assume that all those reading this are aware that I'm a Christian, unless you just happened to stumble upon this blog via StumbleUpon or some other such web browsing tool.  Otherwise, all that talk about being in seminary and working at a church should have clued you in by now.  It follows, therefore, that in looking for a romantic interest, I look for Christians.  If you think this is closed-minded, that's a different conversation, but having a strong faith definitely tops my list of important qualities of a prospective Mr. Right.

So the other day, I receive a message from this guy.  Let's call him Roger.  The dating site that I use has a graduated communication thing going on, which allows you to get to know people informally and with minimal commitment via multiple choice questions and the like.  It's kind of cheesy, but it is super non-intimidating, and so I generally make it a rule to respond to the first questions that anyone sends me in order to give all would-be suitors a fair chance.  Glancing through Roger's profile, it looked somewhat promising...an unusually high number of references to Jesus, but hey, maybe he's just super open about his faith.  Not a bad thing.

So Roger and I progress through the first couple of steps of communication, and things are looking good.  But  almost immediately I start to realize that I really don't know that much about Roger besides the fact that Jesus is important to him.  And while that's cool, I'm going to need a bit more to go off of if we're going to determine romantic possibilities.  So I send Roger some questions to try and find out some more about him.  These questions include the following:

Besides your faith, what's something you're really passionate about?


What's an interest that you'd really like your partner to share with you?


Describe your ideal partner.


Again, forgive the cheese, but online dating lends itself towards cheesy-ness, and two of those questions were suggested by the site and fit my purposes well enough that I didn't bother to de-cheese-ify them.

Anyway, I was hoping that by sending such broad questions I might discover if Roger and I had anything in common besides our mutual affinity for Christianity.  Lots of directions to go from these questions, right?  Here are the responses I got back, paraphrased for content:

Besides your faith, what's something you're really passionate about?
"I can't really answer that question because my faith affects every area of my life...I'm passionate about everything because everything is for the glory of God."

What's an interest you'd like your partner to share with you?
"My faith in Jesus."

Describe your ideal partner.
"She would be a follower of Jesus, and be willing to submit to the will of God."

*headdesk*

Needless to say, I closed off communication with Roger after that day.  Because besides the fact that his answers were all incredibly vague, exceedingly stereotypical, and in the case of the first question, theologically unsound (are you sure "everything" is for the glory of God?  Even things like evil and racism and bigotry and hatred?  Sure you're passionate about "everything"?), the fact of the matter is that I don't want to date a Jesus drone.

As I was driving to work the next day, I was thinking about Roger's answers and how utterly ridiculous they were in the context of getting to know someone new.  Not that the sentiment behind them was bad...I mean, I'd also like to find someone who shares my faith in Christ, but I'd also like to find someone with whom I could share a love of travel, or of acting silly, or of music, or of something other than just Christianity.  I've met all sorts of people who are Christians and, believe it or not, I haven't automatically gotten along with all of them.  In fact, some of them have literally driven me crazy.  Just like people who aren't Christians come in all personality types, Christians also come in all personality types.  Your faith may define you, it may be the base of your identity, but it doesn't mean that that's all there is to it.  You're still an individual.

I feel like that's the beauty of the Christian faith.  God didn't create an army of Jesus drones - mindless cyborgs who wander about espousing random quotes of scripture to each other day and night.  No; God created individuals.  A whole bunch of unique, one-of-a-kind, never-seen-anything-like-it individuals.  And even better, God offered salvation to all those individuals in full celebration of their individuality - including their individual talents and their individual sins alike.  God doesn't require everyone to dress a certain way or look a certain way or act a certain way in order to follow Him.  Christianity is a come-as-you-are religion that, when taken on, should foster individuality and celebrate the uniqueness that God gives to every person.  Having a faith that defines you means that you define yourself by God's standards, which provide a constant state of renewal and freedom in Christ.  It does not mean that your individual self-hood is suppressed by your faith; it means that your uniqueness is elevated and celebrated and that you contribute to the world in a way that only you can, as God has planned for your specifically.

While the intent behind losing oneself in God is good (wasn't it some great saint who said "I must decrease, and God must increase"?), I don't think that Christians should be afraid of showing their individuality.  Nor do I think that name-dropping Jesus in every other sentence is the best way to make clear to a new acquaintance that your faith is important to you.  A true faith in God, a transforming faith, will shine through your actions and conversations in a way that is revelatory of God without being overbearing or disingenuous.  This kind of faith does affect all areas of one's life, but in a way that allows one's interests and goals and talents and weaknesses to shine for God in the way that is unique to every person.  If, as a Christian, you believe that God has a plan for your life (as we Christians love to say), then let God have a plan for YOUR life.  Let God have a plan for YOU.  Take that individuality that God gave you and celebrate it, cherish it...and use it to glorify God in a way that only you can do.

I mean, if God wanted an army of Bible-thumping C3PO's, God would have created one, right?