The year we moved to Tennessee was an election year. Cassy and I went to go vote. We waited in line, got to the front, and I reached in my wallet without even thinking about the fact that we hadn't switched our driver's licenses over to Tennessee yet. They told us we needed a Tennessee driver's license to vote. So we walked out.
But I kept thinking about it. A Tennessee driver's license for a national federal election? There had to be another option. Cassy and I got our passports, totally valid, not expired, and went back in line. We waited through the whole line again. And of course I got called to the exact same volunteer as before. She gives me this look, reaches out, takes my passport, opens it, checks the name, the date, the photo. Then says, "You need a Tennessee state-issued ID to vote."
Now, my parents worked hard over the years to help me understand the concept of "think, then speak." Because in that moment I had some thoughts. I was forming what I was convinced would be a perfectly executed comeback about how maybe if all the states got together they could agree on just one form of identification, and maybe that form would be the one that says "United States" on the front. But before I could deliver it, her supervisor came over and confirmed that passports are valid.
So we voted.
But that moment stuck with me. Because she was locked onto one idea: not everyone is who they say they are. People present documents. They claim credentials. They call themselves things. And it's worth asking whether what they're presenting matches who they actually are.
Jude says the same thing about false teachers who slip into the church. They show up with the right language, sit in the right seats, take communion right alongside everyone else. But not everyone is who they say they are. The Christian life isn't lived according to what we call ourselves. It's lived according to whose we actually are. And as Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 6, you were bought with a price. That ownership is the only credential that actually matters.