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If I were to ask you who you are, how would you respond? Not what you do, not the roles you carry, but who you are at your core. Do any of us really know who we are… I mean, who we really are? Today’s message will likely make you both laugh and ponder. Please read more.
While attending Mass at a church in Greenville, South Carolina just prior to Christmas, I heard a homily that immediately stayed with me. What struck me most was not just the Scripture or the delivery, but a simple question woven throughout the message: Do we know who we are? I knew in that moment that this was something I would eventually want to share.
A man storms up to the airline counter, cutting past a long line of passengers. He slams his ticket down and demands, “I need to be on this flight, and I need first class, now!”
The gate agent calmly replies, “I’m sorry, sir, but there is a line. I will be happy to help you once…”
“Do you have ANY idea who I am?” the man interrupts, his face flushed with anger.
Without missing a beat, the agent picks up the intercom and announces, “Attention, please. We have a passenger at Gate 12 who does not know who he is. If anyone can help identify this gentleman, please come forward.”
With a sweet smile, she looks at him and says, “Now sir, as I was saying, the line starts back there.”
We laugh, because it is funny, and if we are honest, a little satisfying. But beneath the humor is a deeper question, one that goes far beyond an airport counter.
Do we know who we are?
I want to thank Fr. Emerson Rodriguez Delgado for allowing me to borrow the theme of his homily. What really struck me was where he took the message after the joke. The story is not really about entitlement or impatience. It is about identity, and about what happens when life does not unfold the way we expected.
That question takes us straight into the life of John the Baptist.
John was not a casual believer. He was the voice crying out in the wilderness. He had given everything to prepare the way for the Messiah. And yet, from the darkness of his prison cell, facing execution, John sends his disciples to Jesus with a haunting question:
“Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?”
This is not the question of a skeptic. It is the question of a faithful man sitting in prison, in crisis. A man who trusted God, obeyed God, and now finds himself wondering if he misunderstood how God would act.
Jesus does not answer John with a simple yes or no. Instead, He points to what is happening. The blind see. The lame walk. The poor hear good news. And then He adds a line that should cause all of us to pause:
“Blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.”
In other words, God is at work, just not in the way we imagined.
That tension feels familiar. We often want a Messiah who fixes things on our timetable, who acts with the kind of power we expect, who draws clear lines between who deserves mercy and who does not. But Jesus consistently refuses to fit into our categories.
He forgives people we think should be punished. He welcomes people we would rather keep at a distance. He calls us, not just to fairness, but to mercy. Not just to justice, but to love, even when it costs us something.
And that can be unsettling.
If we claim to follow Christ, then the world will learn who Jesus is by watching us. Not just by what we say we believe, but by what they see and hear in our lives. By how we respond when we are frustrated. By how we treat the people who interrupt us, disappoint us, or disagree with us.
So, when someone asks, “Who is Jesus?” what answer does our life give?
Do they see patience instead of entitlement? Welcome instead of exclusion? Mercy instead of resentment? Do they see evidence of the Messiah, not in grand gestures, but in small, daily acts of grace?
The world is still waiting. And through us, through our words and our choices, Christ still comes.
So, the question then is not simply whether we know who He is. The deeper question is whether we remember who we are.
Heavenly Father, I want my life to always reflect that I am following Your Son. In all that I say and do, I want people to see Jesus in me. Amen!
AMDG
AMDG is a Latin abbreviation for “Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam,” which means “For the Greater Glory of God.”
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Please take a moment to share your thoughts about today’s message below.
Welcome to all of our new readers who attended the retreat at St. Bonaventure Parish in Plymouth, MA. I was blessed to be with you!
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I would’ve liked to hear his homily. Thanks for bringing this to light.
Knowing who we are is important and who others see us to be. Thank you for sharing this important message.
Thank you, Brian. This is both entertaining and profound. God bless.
That was awesome as usual. I really liked how the person behind the desk handled him. Sometimes we need a little jolt to wake us up to know who we really are.
Blessings to you and MaryBeth.
Pat
Thank you for your post. You are right sometimes we need a jolt to wake us up. Blessing to you as well.
Brian