Have you ever noticed that people say they don’t like labels? “Don’t pigeon-hole me!” “I’m more complex than your label!” “Calvinist or Arminian? I don’t play that game!”

Clearly, people are indeed complex. We each have intellectual convictions and personal identity constructs that won’t always fit snugly into the confines of a metaphorical box. We’re all unique, just like everyone else, and no one better affix a label to us, because we’re just too darn different to be grouped with “those people!”

The thing is, it’s all talk. We do like labels. The creation and use of identifying terminology is simply a part of the human experience, and that’s okay. Labels help us to make logical order of our universe. Just like on Sesame Street, labels allow us to process information, and determine that “one of these things is not like the other, one of these things doesn’t belong!”

Even God uses labels, and sometimes he has his people use them too. He had Adam name the newly created animals in Genesis 2. They weren’t nothin’ till he called ‘em! Later, God called his chosen people “Israel”, and set them apart from the rest of humanity. Today’s followers of Jesus Christ are called “the church”, “the Bride of Christ”, “Christians”, and a gajillion other labels, some of them applied by God, and others applied by people.

Within the church, we love to throw labels around; perhaps even more so than those outside the church. Here are some examples: Calvinist and Arminian, charismatic and cessationist, covenantal and dispensational, Baptist and Methodist, emerging and emergent, relevant and traditional. There are plenty of other examples as well.

Let’s look at pop-culture for a moment. On Facebook and Myspace people join interest and affinity groups for the purpose of social connection. Musicians, gamers, bibliophiles, democrats, republicans, and the LGBT community all have groups one can join and thus label oneself as affiliated with those subcultures. We put graphics on our blogs and profiles the way we put, stickers on our notebooks in gradeschool.

Less digitally, we sometimes wear certain brands or types of clothes as a visual label of who we are. Sean John for those in the hip-hop culture, Carhart for workmen (and Linkin Park), Columbia for outdoor sporting enthusiasts, Wrangler for cowboys (yeehaw!), BigDog for fat guys like me, and ThinkGeek for, well, geeks. It goes on and on, and it’s not just limited to clothes. We buy coffee at certain places. What does the difference between Starbucks and Dunkin Donuts say about a person? We get food from certain places, enjoy certain genres of entertainment, and support certain political ideologies. All of these can serve as or lead to labels.

The second I apply the labels “Calvinist” “charismatic” and “Baptist” to myself, I’ve alienated a large section of American culture, both in and out of the church. However, I’ve applied those labels to myself, so it’s “okay”, and I’ll have to deal with the consequences. If someone were to come along and call me a “fundamentalist” it might bug me a bit. If someone were to call me a “heretic” (and mean it, as recently happened) I’d certainly take issue with it. (As an aside, all comments on this post calling me a fundamentalist or a heretic will face immediate and forceful retaliation! ;-))

As I think through this, I’ve come to the following conclusions. Labels help us figure out who we (and others) are, which can be a really good thing. However, labels also open up the possibility for the polarization of people based upon perceived differences. I think people naturally give themselves labels, even unintentionally. However, what we really rebel against is when other people assign certain labels to us. I think this is due to a fear of discrimination. People want labels, perhaps even need labels. We just don’t want others to label us, because then we lose the perception of control over our self-identity.

The problem is, if a label is accurate, it’s accurate. Right? Somebody pick holes in my thoughts, please!