Humbled

For Wilshire Baptist Church

“Do you know who I am?”

The question makes my skin crawl because of the way it is often used by people with power and prestige to taunt people with no power or prestige.

I heard it most recently in the news reports of a local politician who allegedly got into an altercation with a teen and allegedly spoke those words, “Do you know who I am?” I’m using the word “allegedly” here because I’ve recently written here about waiting for the facts instead of rushing to judgment, and the facts are still being sorted out in this case.

But a third-party witness allegedly heard that six-word question, and that got my attention. I’ve heard that question raised by self-proclaimed big shots in movies and TV shows and I’ve read it in other news stories. There’s a video on the internet of a New York transit official repeating a version of it over and over again to police during a traffic stop. A web site called ranker.com has a long list of celebrities who have asked that question in one form or another when trying to talk their way out of a jam with the police or when trying to get special treatment at a shop or restaurant.

“Do you know who I am?” Words mean things, and the question often reeks of privilege and entitlement. It says, “I’m more important than you. I have special privileges. I get to play by different rules.” And sometimes there’s an implied threat: “I have the power to make this really bad for you if you don’t do what I want.”

I’ve never uttered that sentence before, not because I’m such a good person, but because I’ve never had the power or prestige that would create the temptation. It’s easy to keep your sword in its scabbard when you don’t have a sword, and that’s a blessing in so many ways. Still, I may be complicit when others speak that sentence if I have helped put them on a pedestal and provided the helium for their inflated egos. On the other hand, sometimes people really are solely responsible for their own actions.

Mostly I’ve tried to follow the example of Jesus, who had every right to ask that question and yet I don’t believe he ever did. Instead, he put the task of defining who he was on others. He asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” And when he was asked if he was king of the Jews, he said, “It is you who say that.” He didn’t force his position on anyone; he let others discern his stature based on his actions rather than his words.

Jesus did speak in riddles or puzzles sometimes, and he dropped some pretty big hints of who he was. He said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life,” and when he read from the prophet about the promise of a messiah, he followed it by saying, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” But he never said, “I am the king of the universe,” or even, “I am the king of the Jews.” And he most certainly never said, “I am the king and you are not, so you better watch yourself.” He spoke as much with his actions as with his words, and in his actions he humbled himself and showed us what that kind of life looks like.

During this season of Lent, we listen to the words and watch more closely the actions of Jesus. We already know where that will take him, but if we stay focused and attentive and follow him through these days, we might rediscover — or discover for the first time — just who he is and what that means to us.