In recent times, we increasingly measure ourselves by how much we are seen, appreciated and recognised by others. We are not only living our lives, but also sharing them. Little by little, we start to see ourselves from the outside, from people's responses, from the number of likes that appear on digital platforms, from how people judge what we show. At first it may be just to share, but over time, there is a subtle urge to conform. We start choosing what to show, filtering what to hide, even forming a certain image of ourselves. And without realising it, our self-worth becomes tied to that response, to how much we are seen, appreciated or recognised. Slowly, that's where the problems start. Our identity shifts, what we pursue is no longer what grows from within, but what is shaped by external validation.
In the Book of Isaiah 3:16-26, we find a picture not far from this reality. The prophet Isaiah speaks of the "daughters of Zion," a symbol for the women of the elite class in Jerusalem in times of prosperity. Historically, this was a time when material wealth increased, but ethical, social, and religious values declined. The lifestyle that looked beautiful on the outside was actually standing on a fragile and unjust structure. Isaiah paints them as walking with swagger, artificial steps, and attention-seeking glances. This is not just a physical description, but a critique of a life lived to be seen. Appearances become a means to seek recognition, and self-worth depends on the "gaze" of others. The question becomes very close to us today: is our identity also being built on the validation or admiration of others for what we have and display?"
The long list of jewellery Isaiah mentions shows how elaborate it is to look "precious." From head to toe, everything is adorned with detail. But therein lies the critique: when self-worth is attached to external things, self-identity becomes fragile, because it relies on something that can be lost, changed, or taken away.
And that is what Isaiah then describes in stark contrast. God stripped away all that had been a source of pride. Fragrance is replaced with stench, luxurious clothing with sackcloth, beauty with humiliation. This is not just a punishment, but a revelation that identities built on inanimate objects ultimately do not last. When all is lost, what remains is emptiness.
This destruction does not stand alone. The men who were the pillars of power perished in battle, and the city itself collapsed into silence. What once seemed majestic became desolate and lost meaning. This shows that the crisis of personal identity is never separate from the broader social crisis. When values are built on illusions, the entire fabric of life falters.
Isaiah critiques a worldview that makes appearance the centre of value. He does not reject beauty itself, but rather rejects when beauty is used as the basis of human identity. Because when identity is completely determined by the views of others, man loses his footing. He no longer lives as himself, but as a shadow of other people's expectations. Isaiah shows us where this path leads: when the validation is gone, what remains is not a complete self, but an emptiness that has been hidden, an exhausting chase, which ultimately leads to disappointment. But in the midst of this criticism, there is a silent invitation: to rediscover an identity that is not built from the outside, but from a deeper relationship. An identity that depends not on what we put on display, but on who we are before God.
Bible friends, who are we when all the "jewellery" is taken off? When there is nothing left to show, nothing left to boast about, what is left of us? Because in the end, a life that is constantly chasing validation is a life that is exhausting. But a life rooted in truth, even if it doesn't always look pretty, is a full life. Let's find ourselves not by what people see, but by how we are known by God.
