Not Just a Number

Before I ever reached the IRS office, a clerk met me outside in the hall and handed me a slip of paper numbered 59, and I was told, “Go farther down the hall and wait in that room.” When I first walked into “that” room containing only chairs and people seated in them, the dry erase board note stated that number 35 was the last person waited upon. Good. This shouldn’t take too long.

Every quarter hour another clerk or the officer on duty came into the room, calling out sequential numbers, about five of them. People holding slips of paper with corresponding numbers were told to form a line. When my turn finally came, I felt like a kindergarten IRS detainee.

Our instructions were, “Line up by number.” They led us into another hall. “Now stand here until I call you to proceed to another door.” I didn’t actually go to kindergarten (didn’t have it in Arkansas), but I learned to follow elementary rules anyway. Obedient, I stood alongside the wall. I did fidget. Twist. Turn. Shuffle my feet. Slump against the wall. But I also smiled a lot at the man with the star shaped badge and pistol lashed to his belt. It seems making a payment at the IRS office these days is serious business. He was on the side of law-abiding folk—wanted him to know I was one.

When I was at the head of the line, the officer said, “Next,” so I stepped to the door he pointed toward. Once there, I assumed I’d be taking care of business and leaving. I assumed a clerk would take my timely payment, stamp my receipt “PAID,” and I’d be free for one more year.

Wrong.

When I stepped into the next room, I quickly learned that I was only in line to get another number. My new number: 485. Yep. I was sliding backward, not inching forward. They were serving number 511 and number 463. After no more than 30 minutes the red digital sign flashed 485 and assigned me to cubicle number 4. I trotted, (I didn’t run in the hall) toward the clerk in the number four cubbyhole. Within ten minutes, I made my payment to a friendly woman named Jewell, and she stamped my receipt and I skipped out of the IRS office.

I don’t know about you, but being reduced to a number even for two hours undermines the ego. I understand the logic of identification by number instead of by name. Numbers can vary enough to give us singular identity, while 30 other people might possess your same given name, especially if it is a more common moniker. In government tracking, I understand why all John Smiths need numbers.

But I like being a person with a real name best. And I love knowing that God knows his followers by name. In the Old Testament, when God wanted to send a message through the child Samuel, God called him in the night saying, “Samuel! Samuel!” (1 Samuel 3:10). God didn’t say “Number 2,003! Number 2003!” When God wanted to speak with the virgin who would carry and bear the Christ child, the angel said, “Do not be afraid, Mary” (Luke 1:30).

We can rest assured that we are more than numbers to God. In fact the psalmist David asked God to favor him as “the apple of your eye.” Jesus said he is our good shepherd and he knows us by name. He said our relationship is so intimate that we know him by the sound of his voice (John 10:1-18). When our shepherd calls, he doesn’t whistle or yell “Hey, you!”

“He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out” (v. 3), and we follow him because we “know his voice” (4).

But shepherds do have an accounting system. And Jesus referred to that when he told a story about a shepherd who had a flock numbering 100. When he tallied up his precious flock, he found one missing. He left the ninety-nine and went to search “in the open country” for the one sheep. And when he found that one, “he joyfully puts it on his shoulders” and goes home. Then the shepherd had a party. He called his friends and neighbors together and said, “Rejoice with me. I have found my lost sheep” (Luke 15 6).

We can be happy too, because individually we are the apple of his eye. And he’ll always leave the safe flock to go in search of you if you ever wander off. In God’s flock you have a name and a number. You are always number one!

(photo from Free Foto.com)