Hats and Things

Suggested readings:
Matthew 3:13-17 and Miss Hunnicutt’s Hat by Jeff Brumbeau and Gail de Marcken
(Read the summary of this story by clicking on “Resources”)

Poor Miss Hunnicutt. She didn’t ask for trouble. She was no rable rouser. She was rather timid, really. The only thing unique about her was her hat.

No. There was one other thing unique about her. Miss Hunnicutt would not let others define who she would be.

This is a playful story, but under its silliness is a serious issue: who gets to define who we are? For all of us, and especially for anyone who is somehow different than the dominant culture, that question marks a place of deep struggle.

Think about it: who tries to define who you will be?

Your parents?
You’ll be a lawyer like your Dad.
You are straight, of course.
You’ll be this religion, and not that one.
This is how you’ll wear your hair (or raise your kids or keep your house.)

Our culture?
            You will trust science more than faith; you’ll have to choose one or the other.
            You’ll value money above all else.
            You’ll be extroverted, or feel inadequate.
            You will hide, deny or drug all pain.
            You’ll accept that violence is inevitable.

Is it the media or corporate America that tries to define you?
            You will want more than you need.
            You’ll never be quite satisfied.
            Your comfort will be more important than another’s need.

Or your role in society; does that try to define who you will be?
            You’re a prison warden: be mean, tough, harsh.
            You’re a girl: don’t outshine the boys in math.
            You’re a man: don’t be vulnerable.
            You’re a lesbian: don’t dress up.

How about your peer group?
            Criticize whom we criticize.
            Look the other way when we lack integrity.
            Vote the way we vote.

Even your children or your partner try to define you:
            Be like me.

We begin the struggle to define ourselves in early adolescence and it may go on for much of our lives.

When we look at the life of Jesus, we see that people were always trying to define him, too. The Pharisees wanted him to be traditional like them. The disciples wanted him to play it safe. The needy crowds wanted him to care for them. His family wanted him to come home and be a good boy.

And Miss Hunnicutt’s neighbors wanted her to be like them and leave her chicken hat at home.

So who gets to define who we will be? We do, of course, but that is tricky. We can be so easily swayed by the voices around us. We can believe we are defining ourselves when in fact it is the culture or the media or our lover defining us, and we are not conscious of that. It takes deep honesty to know the difference between the mature process of living out of your truest self, and the popular imitation of that—I’ve got to be me; this is my truth; I’ll do it my way—which are just more ways to be self-centered.

I like the distinction often found in eastern religions between the self with a small “s”: my ego-driven, self-centered personality, and Self with a capital, the God within, the in-dwelling Christ, the image of God in which I am made, my most true self. The 20th century monk Thomas Merton writes “We are to become what we already are. Christ is already here as our deepest truest self.” This is what the spiritual journey is about: to become that Self, who we are meant to be.

It is the Self that gets to define who I am and who I will be: the truest part of me, the eternal Spirit within me, the in-dwelling Christ. This is me striped of media influence, cultural biases, parental demands, personal fears. This is the me God created me to be.
And of course we are not really deciding who we will be, but only uncovering who we already are.

Perhaps it is in this sense that we can understand Jesus’ words according to the Gospel of Thomas:
            If you bring forth what is within you,
            what you bring forth will save you.
            If you do not bring forth what is within you,
            what you do not bring forth will destroy you.

The story in Matthew that I suggest you read is the story of Jesus’ baptism. There are many ways to understand baptism…his and ours. But for our purposes today, let me just say that we are baptized in order to make clear who gets to define who we are and will be.

By claiming my baptism, I am saying that only God—not some far-away external god, but the Self, the God within—gets to define me. To the best of my ability, I will not let the culture say who I will be, nor my role in society determine how I will act, nor will the media control my choices and shape my values. I will not abdicate that right and privilege even to friends and family.

Only the Self, only God and I in partnership, will decide who I will be. That’s the statement that baptism makes.

I wish it were that simple. But in fact, once I make that statement, it takes a long time to grow into it, and a longer still to gain the skill to discern when I am true to my essential Self and when I am being swayed by external, oh-so-subtle, very persuasive forces. It takes even longer to grow the courage needed to insist, like Miss Hunnicutt did, on defining myself.

I like the quote from Hasidic Judaism’s Rabbi named Zusia:
            When I shall face the celestial tribunal,
            I shall not be asked why I was not Abraham, Jacob or Moses.
            I shall be asked why I was not Zusia.

I think of people who refused to be defined by others. They are beautiful people and powerful.

Rosa Parks lived in a world that intended to define her: black, poor, a woman. According to this definition, she was to be timid and subservient. She was supposed to know her place. But Rosa Parks had her own idea of who she was.

Nelson Mandela was unjustly imprisoned for 28 years. The culture told him who and how he was supposed to be: bitter, angry, vengeful…or subdued, repentant, cowing. But  Nelson Mandela had his own idea of who he was:  man of God, who came out of 28 years of hell speaking forgiveness to power.

Oscar Romero was part of El Salvador’s elite—church, government and wealthy classes—and he was who they wanted him to be for a long time. But the time came when he saw who he had become, and who he had allowed to define him, and finally Oscar Romero claimed his own idea or who he was: a Christ, working on behalf of the poor and oppressed, and not counting the cost.

Roberta Achtenberg was the first openly gay person to be confirmed by the US Senate for a major political post. During that confirmation process, there were many who tried to define her: “a damn lesbian”, one who was “out to destroy family values.” But Roberta Achtenberg had her own idea of who she was, and insisted on defining herself: one committed to working for justice, integration, legal rights for oppressed people.

Even Robert E. Lee refused to let others define him. After his defeat in the Civil War, someone asked him if they could use his name in a business venture. General Lee answered, “My good name is about all I have left from this terrible tragedy, and it is not for sale.”

Many people and forces want to define you. Some want you to be straight when you’re not. Some want you to be just like them. Some want you to hate whom they hate. Some want you to choose between gay and Christian. Some want you to make your own comfort top priority. Some want you to sacrifice your integrity for them. Some want you to buy the party line.

You, that is, your Self, is the only one who may define who you are. Defining ourselves is a privilege, and also a responsibility. It will have a cost. For those of us in the Christian tradition, it is our baptism that reminds us that we are God’s beloved daughters and sons. That’s who we are.

Don’t let anyone define you as anything less.

Don’t let yourself settle for anything less (though less will always be easier.)

Remember your baptism. Remember your Self, the in-dwelling Christ. Remember Miss Hunnicutt’s hat.

©2007 Janice Jean Springer