The question of identity has constantly echoed throughout mankind’s history, almost unceasingly.  This need to connect, to define and to understand has resulted in cultural revolutions, religious crusades, civil wars and more.  As we go about trying to make sense of who we are, we also seem obsessed with trying to figure out who we aren’t, almost as if in defying the negative can lead to a clearer definition of the positive.

Humankind has been shown, throughout the years, to be a tribal species.  We seem to flourish when we band together against a common enemy or in favor a common good.  We apparently are hard-wired this way.  Like some of our animal kin we form long-lasting familial units.  We are, in theory, a monogamous species who opt for singular, long-term romantic and sexual relationships.  We grow up in hierarchical cultures—whether that be patriarchal, matriarchal, or something else ”archal”, but we innately understand an alpha male/female societal arrangement.

Despite this inherent “belonging” we still question whether we are in the right tribe.  I believe that we are the only species who knowingly shuns their native tribe to explore being parts of others.  Whether these tribes are defined by socio-economics, geographic boundaries, educational alliances or political beliefs, we are constantly assessing whether we are in the right place as defined by either our own thoughts or our perceptions about the thoughts of others.  No wonder than that this seeming existential crisis has persisted.

Even as I write this blog, I try to understand who I am through the tribes I connect with.  Am I a gay male living in New York City?  Am I an Episcopalian who thinks that the Evangelical movement is misguided?  Am I a Princetonian trying to relive my glory days?  Am I a depressive who can’t get out bed some mornings due to the projected anxieties of the day?

The answer is that I am all these and yet I feel that I haven’t answered the underlying identifying question of “who am I”.  Perhaps that is because I haven’t been able to ask the real question which is, am I a success or a failure?  And which tribe’s yardstick am I using to answer that question?

I believe that many religious leaders have tried to help mankind answer this question of identity.  A prime example is a story of Jesus and the disciples in Caesarea Philippi.  Caesarea was an ancient town at the base of Mount Herman.  It was a remote outpost from a location perspective but also sat at the crossroads of the world and was along the route which many armies of Antiquity marched.  It was also historically a place of religious significance, being the home to many of the ancient gods.  It’s interesting that it is in this place, both local and worldly, both storied and always evolving, that Jesus poses a question about identity.

In this instance, Jesus asks the disciple’s around him two important identify questions.  First. he asks them to tell him who others say that Jesus is.  I believe he does this specifically to get into the conversation the notion that we often define ourselves by what others may say about us.  After the disciples throw out all the speculative answers that have been gathered in the their many conversations (almost as if they were re-hashing tweets), Jesus turns the question to them asking the disciples who they say Jesus is.  Given that the disciples are Jesus’ closest friends and confidantes, this brings the question from being externally focused to being internally focused.  Instead of Jesus’ asking to be defined by those on the periphery, who may be more powerful and larger in numbers, Jesus’ asks to be defined by those whom he will entrust with his legacy and his mission.

The difference in the answers are as telling as the questions themselves.  In the first instance, the disciples try to define Jesus in relation to historical figures who represent certain “tribes”.  Jesus is compared to John the Baptist, who would represent the contemporary outcast tribe, wandering in the wilderness looking for the truth.  Jesus is also compared to Elijah or one of the prophets who would represent the foundation of the Jewish culture and world.  But in the second instance, Simon Peter simply responds with the truth that he is the Messiah as reflected in Jesus himself, without defining Jesus through any pre-existing tribe.  Jesus’ identity is unique and tied to his mission of love on earth.

Herein lies the answer to our own question about who we are.  We are not the “tribes” that we choose or are chosen for us, we are unique creatures each given a unique loving task to fulfill during our journey.  It is our uniqueness that defines us, not our similarities.  And since each journey is unique, we can’t measure success or failure by the yardstick of another journey.

So even if we can internalize the uniqueness of our journey, why does it hurt to be last?  If each race has its own rules and length, why do we measure our progress through the lens of another person’s race.

I believe the answer is tied back, ironically, to our instinctual tribal mentality.  We are not designed to live solitary lives.  Being outside the pack is physically dangerous.  But we have lost what originally defines the tribe.

I remember, as so many kids do, dreading the mornings in elementary school when kickball was the designated activity.  This would result in the identification of two “captains” who would take turns picking their team.  When you were picked was a reflection of your perceived value, and being one of the ones picked last was not a very good feeling.  I may not have always been picked last, but as a child who hadn’t yet come into their own athletic ability, I was often in the bottom third.  Ironically, one of the people who was always picked first was a skinny black girl who was not academically gifted but who had an amazing singing voice.  Originally, she was one of the last selected but after the first game of the year when she showed she could kick that ball further than any one, she was often one of the first.

Standing on the sideline, the tribe around you got smaller and smaller as kids moved from the group line to one of the team lines.  As the number of folks left standing beside you became less, the sense of vulnerability grew—not only as one dealt with the idea of being unwanted, but you physically felt separated which was discomforting on an instinctual level.  You were being separated from the pack and weren’t sure if there was another pack you would eventually belong to.

That is the problem of trying to pick tribes based on human based qualifications and definitions.  What might fit one moment may not fit another.  A tribe you may aspire to be part of may not aspire to have you as a member.  Being tribe-less is being vulnerable, and being vulnerable is lonely and scary.  That’s why being last hurts so much.

The important thing to remember is that we all belong to one tribe connected by the power of love.  Every religion teaches that we should view each other as brothers and sisters, a defined tribe that is immutable.  When we stop looking to define ourselves externally and try to define ourselves by the most internal measures, by those we love most and who love us most, we can confidently answer the question of who we are.  We are children of God–loved always and asked to love others always.

I may not be a successful businessman currently, and I may never achieve the same level of perceived success as some of my peers, but I am a person of unmatched empathy.  A person who is learning to love. I need to remember and reframe myself as belonging to the tribe of love that God put into place before the start of the universe.  That is who I am and there are no last place finishers in terms of who can love.