Who am I?

A reflection by Pamela Hussey

'Where am I?' is the question traditionally on the lips of someone coming round after a period of unconsciousness. 'Who am I?' is the question many of us will have to answer if national identity cards become a reality. The information on the card will cover name, date of birth, address, nationality, passport number and national insurance details of everybody residing in the country longer than three months, plus possibly finger prints and iris scans (The Economist, 1 May 2004).

So, part of the answer to the question 'who am I?' may soon be neatly set out on a piece of plastic. But not all of the answer. We have many strands of identity. We are, first of all, the offspring of our parents, and for some time our identity consists of just that - we are John and Sylvia's eldest, youngest or middle child, or Paul or Antonia's brother/sister - and we are judged by how well we measure up to those who have preceded us. But we grow up and become persons in our own right: the links with family remain but a separate identity has developed.

Another strand is woven when we begin work. Some people define themselves by what they do: 'I'm an accountant, doctor, teacher, PA, social worker'. This information can often place the speaker in terms of intellectual capacity or social standing, but it is still partial. Other strands are unravelled when the conversation turns to literature, art, politics, the third world, human rights, the environment or even Coronation Street - or indeed any of the current themes filling the analysis pages of the broadsheets and Sunday supplements.

But however many questions are asked and answered, with varying degrees of sincerity, the inner core of the person will not be revealed - not to the casual or friendly questioner, not to the family, not even to the closest life partner. And sometimes the inner core is not known even by the person him/herself, because it can only be reached by descending below the superficial to the depths.

The ultimate question and answer as to identity is given in the Book of Exodus, Chapter 3, where God speaks to Moses in the wilderness and sends him to the Pharaoh to bring the people of Israel out of Egypt.

'Then Moses said to God: "If I come to the people of Israel and say to them, "The God of your fathers has sent me to you," and they ask me, "What is his name?" what shall I say to them?" God said to Moses, "I am who I am."' (Exodus 3:13-14)

'In the Garden of Gethsemane Jesus asks Judas and those who have come to arrest him, "Whom are you looking for?" They answered, "Jesus of Nazareth." Jesus said to them: "I am he." When he said to them, "I am he," they stepped back and fell to the ground."' (John 18:4-6)

In the film The Passion of the Christ, Judas is shown as stunned, shaken and awestruck on hearing Jesus saying of himself what God said to Moses, 'I am who I am.'

Jesus reveals the deepest identity of the human person: being in God. At the Last Supper, before going out with his disciples to his passion and death, Jesus' identity and the action that flows from it, are stunningly juxtaposed.

'And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.' (John 13:3-5)

The one who has taken humanity to its highest point stoops, literally, to the actions of a slave.

Before the mystery of our deepest identity we can only pray with the Psalmist:

O Lord, you search me and you know me,
You know my resting and my rising,
You discern my purpose from afar.
You mark when I walk or lie down,
All my ways lie open to you.

Before ever a word is on my tongue
You know it, O Lord, through and through.
Behind and before you besiege me,
Your hand ever laid upon me.
Too wonderful for me, this knowledge,
Too high, beyond my reach.

For it was you who created my being,
knit me together in my mother's womb.
I thank you for the wonder of my being,
For the wonders of all your creation.
(Psalm 138)