Labels

Hats, shirts, sandals; it didn’t matter – as long as it was black with a white swoosh. Because a certain young golfer by the name of Tiger Woods had turned pro and made an immediate splash by signing with the non-traditional golfing brand, Nike, and overnight turned Nike Golf into THE label to wear, and his signature hat as THE hat you must own. In those lines, and throughout the first month, I witnessed relationships that had been solid in 8th grade dissolve and new relationships form over and around…a black nike hat with a white swoosh.

Let me emphasize, no one was bullied for their lack of this hat. It was more that the hat became your “ticket in” and people made positive assumptions about you because you had it. But…fast forward 2 years and it came down to this:

Tommy Hilfiger was everywhere and everything. Calvin Klein shirts also became popular, as I suppose we were all getting more sophisticated in our apparel. The Tiger Woods hats didn’t disappear, but they no longer were the “ticket in.” And over the last 2 years of high school I witnessed relationships that had formed seem to dissolve and new relationships formed…with Tommy Hilfiger to thank (or blame).

Were there other factors at play in those relationship dynamics? Probably. But the labels we wore proved to be a powerful outside force that defined our expectations of each other. We like to say that we’re more mature as adults, but we don’t plaster “Coach” on our purse because we want people to know that we are really passionate about well-crafted products that are durable and steady. We wear a giant logo to make sure people assume we can afford it. There are plenty of golf and leisure shirts that we can buy, but we purchase Ralph Lauren or Travis Matthew – either consciously or subconsciously – because it’s our “ticket in.” Same can be said for the Mercedes or Ferrari emblems, or the prominence of our neighborhood signs, or the bumper stickers we slap on, or the political signs we choose.

We are people of labels. They are our ticket to acceptance and identity. As teens especially we crave labels, because it seems like easy community.

“If I wear this…”

“If I join this team…”

“If I make get this graduation paraphernalia…”

…then people will like me, respect me, and want to be with me.

Until the next thing comes along.

The next trend.

The next standard.

The next expectation.

And we have to change the label all over again to stay relevant.

Labels aren’t bad in and of themselves. It is great that like-minded people can join a fishing club because they want to meet people around a common interest. Same goes with sports or music or even church. But when we fundamentally misunderstand labels as the way of acceptance into a community OR the way of judging who should be accepted into a community…we’ve missed the point.

Consider how God establishes community, and the labels God gives us:

John 1:12 :: But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God.

John 15:15 :: I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father.

2 Corinthians 5:17 :: So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation.

Ephesians 2:10 :: For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.

There are plenty of other scriptures that show the labels God puts upon us, but overwhelmingly God’s “exclusive” club is the most inclusive club you’ll ever find. And the “ticket in” isn’t anything we can buy or sell, but the love freely given to us through Jesus Christ.

As we struggle with what “our brand” is in our community, perhaps we should care less about the community’s definition of “in” and focus more on what God says about us?

As we struggle with who we let into our lives, perhaps we should care less about the community’s definition of “cool” and “acceptable” and focus more on the way God sees them?

I know labels aren’t going away. It’s part of our search for acceptance, worth, and love. But I do hope that our community, the community of Creekwood United Methodist Church, does our part in helping people see the one label that really matters