Identity: the ultimate excavation project

'Innovators, inventors, trailblazers' - these are names which bear gravitas, instil hope, and foster expectation.

They are words encouraging the expectation of a hard work ethic; names promising to satisfy that longing to contribute, to make a difference, to uncover and add something new to the world. These are the occupations of those who have risen, made progress, attempted and achieved the miraculous. These are the descriptions of those often perceived as the greatest and best.

These are also the names of my children's new classes this school year. What high, inspirational and good hopes for our growing children!

These class names show how young and early in child development that desire for change, for making a name for oneself and for understanding self does come. Our five, eight and ten-year-olds already set out on a path that focuses on leadership, ownership, reputation and rising above the rest.

Who will they be? What heights will they reach? The search for, and ascent of, oneself is underway.

Yet to rise, o climb higher, we are also told to ‘dig deep’, to uncover one’s true self within. So the searching for oneself becomes much like an archaeological dig, seeking the treasure and gold inside us, in order that we can rise up and out into the world.

Habits are formed so young, and soon we become expert archaeologists: continuously striving against the unyielding ground of our hearts, desperate to find that one key treasure we can cling to; one jewel that will cement us in the archives of history, or even just root us in the world above.

Ploughing on through the endless cycles of self-analysis, we dig into the whys of what we do, regrets over words spoken, endless rephrasing and rehearsing for redemptive moments; constantly trying to make sense of the experiences and situations of our lives, and our responses to them.

We are all ironically commonly united in our excavation projects, sharing this experience as humanity that we dare not share aloud. We are expert, experienced archaeologists.

Our worldly calling vs our godly calling

Yet we are in danger of becoming so expert and experienced in our archaeological endeavour that we forget who we are; we become blinded by the dirt and darkness below, and miss the treasure we are searching for, forgetting the intent of the dig. We forget our goal to rise higher, to live making a difference, to live as known in the world. In practice, it seems our calling as God’s children is no different to that of the world’s.

While our preaching is public from the pulpit and the truths of the gospel ring out to homes across the world through our favourite podcasts, the majority of our gospel talk is in fact done by us and to ourselves. So let us ask; we may be experienced theologians, but whose gospel are we preaching to ourselves?

For while our calling may sound strikingly similar to the inventors, explorers and innovators of this world, it is also miraculously, wonderfully starkly opposed as well:

For we are made to be known.

Created to contribute.

Born to grow and rise higher.

Called to live a life of miraculous hope, inspiration, and glory.

Called to set forth treasure in this world. To be treasure.

Called to rise to life and then life eternal; for our names to be loved, known and remembered far beyond our time on this earth. Made to live, yet called to die. Made to confront our true selves, to dig deep, and descend into self. Yet called to die to ourselves. Chosen miraculously to be raised. Equipped, encouraged and enabled them to live a life above the ground.

Called by our loving, merciful, gracious Father to be His children.

Raised up by His one and only Son, who came down from the highest of heights, to descend not only to earth, or even to the depths of the increasing darkness of our woefully failed excavated, empty, dark and dirty hearts and minds, but down to death and hell itself. As Augustine wrote:

'Just as the devil in his pride brought proud thinking man down to death, so Christ, in his humility, brought obedient man back to life. The devil grew high and mighty, he fell, and pulled down man who consented to him; the Christ came humble and lowly, he rose, and raised up man who believed in him.' ^[1]

We are all expert theologians, philosophers and archaeologists. Satan himself is proof of this. Let us heed the gospel, and receive these words of Augustine, and take heed that our expertise is a life lived in light and true life, as we set forth the treasure of Jesus and His saving work, as we make Him known to the ends of the Earth, and as we seek to rise higher and higher in His glorious image until we meet our Maker face to face, knowing we are known forevermore.

^{[1] Augustine De Trinitate, Book IV chapter 3: 13. P166}