Can you change your identity?

We hear that sort of argument a lot today … that we can or that we need to change ourselves to fit our true identity. In Michigan recently, Joseph Gobrick was hauled into court for child pornography—as he was in possession of numerous images of child porn on his computer.

His argument fits our age: he contended in court that though he is a 45-year-old man, he is actually an 8-year-old girl. He feels like he is a little girl, so he must be.

Thankfully, Gobrick’s defense failed. He was found guilty for child pornography and sentenced to prison. But we should take note: though the line held here, this line is a precarious one. Postmodernity is not stable.

This court case calls us to say, in public: your feelings don’t determine your identity.

45-year-old men are not 8-year-old girls, and never will be.

The death of basketball star Kobe Bryant has shocked the world—truly the world. Bryant, one of the top five basketball players of all time by many estimates, was just 41 years old. More tragic still: his 13-year-old daughter, Gianna, died at his side. Seven other people perished in the crash.

Bryant soared in his career. He won five NBA championships, many awards, and became fantastically wealthy. Yet after personal trouble early in his career, Bryant committed himself to his family. He was by all accounts a doting father to his four girls, and he and his wife Vanessa worked hard to strengthen their union.

As a man, Bryant needed what many men need: he needed a family. He pursued excellence and found it in his calling.

Kobe’s days are over. This life goes fast. We must number our days, and prize what matters most.

Man knows not his time.

For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.

Those words—familiar to many—come from the 139th Psalm in the Bible.

In poetic language, we learn here that the Creator gives life to every person. Our personhood does not awake at our birth; a child in the womb is a child. Yet since Roe V. Wade made abortion legal today in 1973, Americans have broadly rejected this vision. We have embraced abortion and have killed well over 60 million babies in the womb. Truly, the blood of our children cries out from the earth.

Thankfully, in our time we are seeing major pro-life gains. Several pro-life Supreme Court justices have been appointed by President Trump, and younger generations poll strongly pro-life.

Whether you’re motivated by religious conviction or common recognition of human dignity, let us keep fighting for life.

Nothing is more precious than a baby.

What gives meaning to our days?

The new film 1917 stages this question in the wilderness of World War I, an apocalyptic firescape. Two soldiers embark on an impossible quest, debating the value of medals for bravery as they go. A soldier who won a medal for valor but has turned cynical denies the significance of his award: “It’s just a bit of tin,” he says.

As the journey unfolds, he shows tremendous courage under fire. When he completes his mission, he hands over several small items from a friend. All that is left to remember his comrade is a bit of tin.

Sam Mendes’s film is deceptively profound. It shows the value of honor, of fighting when everyone else wants to hide, even if the call of death comes in amidst the call of duty.

There is something worse than dying or suffering.

It’s living without honor; living without courage.

A recent headline that I’ll quote directly illustrates our pervasive sexual confusion today: “Trans man gives birth to non-binary person’s baby with female sperm donor.”

Let’s analyze this headline in light of truth.

“Trans man gives birth”—Reuben, who gave birth to the child, is a biological woman who self-identifies as transgender.

“To non-binary person’s baby”—Jay, Reuben’s partner, is a biological woman who doesn’t want to be identified as a woman.

“With female sperm donor”—We’re talking about the sexual contribution from a biological man who self-identifies as a trans woman.

Don’t be confused.

Though our culture embraces chaos and separates biology from identity—procreation is stubbornly logical.

Only the natural sexual contribution of a man and woman can produce a baby.

Only a woman can give birth.

Biology constitutes identity.

Here’s a revised headline: “Despite Much Controversy, Nothing About Biology Has Changed.”

You … shall not … pass!

Where were you 18 years ago when the greatest trilogy in cinematic history debuted?

In December 2001, “The Fellowship of the Ring” hit theaters. It was an epochal event, for the Lord of the Rings trilogy made nearly 3 billion dollars worldwide.

The films became a genuine cultural phenomenon for many reasons: the story is exhilarating, the conflict between good and evil is stark, and the movies are beautifully orchestrated. This was far from a guaranteed outcome, though: Oxford don J. R. R. Tolkien labored over the trilogy for years, facing frustrations, creative droughts, and self-doubts.

But Tolkien prevailed and Peter Jackson picked up the torch. We should too. December is a great time for fathers and mothers to read the books with their children.

The films are right: goodness is real.

Home is precious.

And: Evil will not win in the end.

My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.

Nearly two millennia ago, a young woman said these words. Mary had just heard the news that she would bear the Messiah, the Son of God, Jesus Christ. Christians all over the world celebrate the incarnation, the true reason for Christmas.

One truth of Christmas that we might miss amidst all else going on: truly, there is no more powerful affirmation in history of God’s design for women than the incarnation.

Our culture tells us it’s “pro-woman” but wars against women and the womb. In Scripture, Jesus is born of a woman. The Genesis curse on childbearing is overcome by God. The elegant distinctiveness of womanhood is elevated and affirmed, while the culture of death and abortion is rebuked.

Indeed: God has looked on our humble estate.

Merry Christmas.