Last night we watched my sister and brother-in-law take part in their church’s excellent Easter drama.  The performance was deeply moving, and I found myself looking at each character… wondering who I was in the story.

At any given point in my life, I can be some kind of combination of all the characters in the Biblical account of Christ’s life and passion.

• The Pharisees, who loved their ability to keep the law more than they loved the One who fulfilled it.

• The adulteress, deeply aware of her own sin, shamed before the community, and desperate for Christ’s forgiveness and restoration.

• The children, who ran to Him full of faith and excitement, nothing holding them back from seeking and responding to this God-man Jesus.

• The disciples, who loved Him and believed Him, but also faltered in their faith as they tried to understand God’s plan that was much bigger than they could have dreamed.

• The crowd, who joyously waved palm branches and welcomed Him but didn’t understand the price He would pay and the cost of following Him.

• Barabbas, who deserved to die and yet was given freedom when the Sinless One took his place.

• Judas, who appeared to be a follower and yet sold His Savior for a bag of silver.

I find myself wondering… who am I?

I don’t know.  I don’t know who I am in this story.  And the thing is, even when I start out well and follow Him with the greatest enthusiasm and purest motives… I falter.  My sin trips me up.

Am I a soldier, mercilessly beating my Lord?  Am I a Pharisee, blinded by self?

Who am I?  Will I ever really know?

My motives are never completely pure.  My heart is bent toward sin.  My will and perception tainted by the fall and my own sinful choices.  What I desire to do I do not do, and what I do not want to do I do…

But I know who He is.

I know who My Redeemer is.

He is the Christ, the Son of the Living God.

He has the words of eternal life – to whom else would I go?

He is who He said He is.  I believe Him.

So even when my own self shifts, my motives falter… this one thing I cling to.

I know who He is.

And ultimately, that’s all I need to know.  That’s all I need to cling to.  He defines me.