the final act of consecration

Few believers would purposely resist their identity in Christ. On the contrary, we cling to the hope afforded through our identity and inheritance while enduring the process of consecration. We believe that by ridding our lives of the profane, we will be empowered to walk in this identity to its fullest measure.

This theology is sound, but often we are mistaken in our definition of "profane." Whereas we desire God to remove the portions of our lives that are bad -- according to our own connotation -- God longs to remove everything that is common.

I assumed that by cleansing myself of fear, coarse joking, lustful attitudes, and earthly pursuits that the work would be complete. Granted, this was a necessary start, but we do not become holy vessels through the mere disposal of blatant sin:

Now in a large house there are not only gold and silver vessels, but also vessels of wood and of earthenware, and some to honor and some to dishonor. Therefore, if anyone cleanses himself from these things, he will be a vessel for honor, sanctified, useful to the Master, prepared for every good work. (2 Tim. 2:20-21, NASB)

This isn't an awful translation, but the Greek word translated "dishonor" is ATIMOS, which used in a comparative context implies a subjective indignity. In other words, the "dishonorable" items are not bad in and of themselves, but they are undignified when held against the honorable articles.

The distinction is clear in Paul's metaphor. All of us can see the common usefulness in wood or clay: they serve a multitude of physical purposes, from building to dining to storing. Many of these articles even hold an aesthetic value beyond their practicality, and they fill our homes for this very reason.

Now compare these articles to those made of refined metal. Our best china looks fabulous until graded against a sterling silver plate. A wooden dresser may give the bedroom character, but will not demand our attention if placed next to a solid gold trunk. Paul isn't requesting that we purge our lives of evil; he's suggesting that we cleanse ourselves of anything that lacks a noble purpose for His honorable kingdom.

What does this have to do with identity? I believe that many of us have found freedom over deadly sin, but still lack a certain "usefulness" to our Lord. We want to carry our identity in Christ, but only within the context of our worldly identity. If our greatest use to the world becomes our ability to entertain, our capacity to reason, or our connectivity to modern culture, then our homes will be cluttered with junk compared to the things of Christ!

I struggle with this because I want to relate. I want the lost to know that I listen to cool music, will share an espresso or beer with them, and can produce a witty comeback for their respect. I want women to know that I'm considerate and a good listener. I want men to know that I can explain the appropriate use of a double switch. I want my parents to know that I can take care of myself, and my boss to know that I'm reliable. I want...

It's all clutter. I fear that cleansing myself of my accepted identities will leave me empty and boring. But living according to my identity in Christ requires the death of common things. What eternal reward is there for my earthly reputation? How does my Godly usefulness suffer when I waste time nursing my conflicting identities? What do I truly hold most valuable?

Moreover, they shall teach My people the difference between the holy and the profane, and cause them to discern between the unclean and the clean...and it shall be with regard to an inheritance for them, that I am their inheritance; and you shall give them no possession in Israel -- I am their possession. (Ezekiel 44:23,28)