What’s in a Name?

Series: Christmas

Speaker: The Rev'd Emily Griffin

What’s in a name? In biblical times, names were an indication of heritage and character. I wonder sometimes how much my own name has shaped me. Would I be a different person if I had a different name? Would you? The name “Emily” means “hardworking” or “industrious.” Say what you will about me – I am diligent to a fault. If I see a hole, it takes everything in me not to fill it – no matter whose job it may really be. I’m not sure that was my parents’ intention, though, in naming me. I’m told they named me after my grandma’s sister, Aunt Emily, whose most famous act was getting tipsy and mooning everyone at my baby shower. I don’t know that I’ve fully tapped into my inner geriatric mooner – but it’s nice to know that a little non-diligence is built into my heritage too.

I wonder how Jesus felt about his own name. That’s part of what we’re here to celebrate today. You only think it’s New Year’s Day. In church time, that happened already – way back in November at the beginning of Advent. Today in church time, it’s the Feast of the Holy Name. It used to be the Feast of the Circumcision, but that didn’t sound particularly uplifting. So eventually the focus shifted to the other thing that happened on the 8^th day of Jesus’ life. On this day, he was officially given his name.

In Hebrew, the name Jesus (or Joshua) means “Savior” or “Deliverer.” No pressure there. Some translators think it means specifically “the LORD saves,” but Jesus’ case, that doesn’t take off the pressure in the slightest. To know that this was your name before you were even conceived, to know that angels came separately to both Mary and Joseph in two different Gospels just to make sure that this would be your name – it’s a bit of a weight to carry. Savior, Deliverer? They might as well have called him “God, Jr.”

That doesn’t sound quite right, though, does it? Sure, he’s the Son of God, but he’s also fully God – and no matter how much “Juniors” may resemble their fathers, the reflection is never perfect. Besides, “God” technically isn’t a name at all. It’s a category. It’s like calling your dog “Dog” or your child “Child.” While there may be only one true God, lots of things function in our lives as gods (with a small g) – be it our jobs or our country or even our fellow family members. Whatever we give our ultimate loyalty to – that, by definition, is our god.

So how did the Almighty One we call “God” end up with such a generic, non-descript name? On some level, it may have been a practical choice. Whenever we start giving the divine specific names like Adonai or Allah or Father, we end up excluding somebody’s experience. So many wars have been fought over what to call the Maker of us all that perhaps it is better, or at least less bloody, to settle for the least common denominator.

Besides, is it even possible to capture the Source of all being in any one name? It’s like trying to claim ownership of the sun. As Jesus himself once noted, the sun “rises on the evil and on the good.” It shines where it will, and while we can harness some of its power – we can never fully claim to have it under our control. Likewise, the reality of the divine is bigger than any one tradition or history, no matter how beloved, no matter how many billions of us align ourselves with it. Who knows? Perhaps it is presumptuous to give “God” a name at all. Maybe we are better off to think of the divine more like the impersonal sun; if we get warmth, brightness, and life-giving energy regardless…who really cares what we name it?

Well, the fact that it doesn’t seem quite right to call the divine an “it” – that creates some difficulty. Surely the Source and End of all love cannot be an “it.” Maybe our Jewish brothers and sisters are onto something. For them, the divine has a name; they just can’t say it out loud. That approach makes some sense. Some say the deepest realities of our lives can’t ever be captured in words – whether it’s joy or fear or loss. Even the word “love” seems inadequate at times to describe how we feel. It’s been so market-tested and commercialized; we’re not even sure sometimes what it means anymore. Some would say the same about “God,” I suspect.

But because they need some way to talk about the Almighty, Jews often use Adonai or Hashem instead as a kind of place holder. In English, we translate the divine name as “the LORD.” So whenever you see the LORD in capital letters in the Old Testament, it’s a translation of the name Moses hears at the burning bush - the name I won’t say aloud at this point. There are some who say that to name something aloud is to limit it somehow. It’s a fair point. I mean - what’s more terrifying than something that cannot be named? It’s part of why we like getting a diagnosis when we’re sick, I think. Once something has a name, it can be isolated, contained – possibly treated.  To the LORD’s credit, if the divine is going to have a name at all, it’s hard to beat one that means “I am who I am” or “I will be who I will be.” I, for one, don’t see many limits here.

Perhaps the only limits are those placed by love. While we can do all sorts of things in our freedom as humans, we often refuse to do some of them because we love. We could cheat, but we don’t because we love. We could hold onto all the wrongs committed against us and refuse to forgive, but we don’t because we love. We could trample on each other’s hopes with our cold-eyed realism, but we try not to because we love. The same, at least, is true of the LORD, isn’t it? At the end of the book of Exodus, the LORD offers Moses as close as we get to a description of the divine name: “The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.” If this is God’s heritage and character, then we’re in pretty good shape, right?

Likewise, our first reading this morning from Numbers gives us some insight into the meaning of the divine name. “The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious to you; the LORD lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace.” Each line is a little longer than the last, as if God’s blessings can’t help but overflow. And while the divine has a name here (and even a face), we can still feel the warmth and brightness and energy of the sun in it - the uncontainable, unbuyable, unbranded sun. Maybe this description is as good as it gets.

There’s just one problem, though. I credit songwriter David Wilcox for helping me to name it. In his song “Native Tongue,” he writes: “No little words can hold a candle to the splendor of the sun – can explain this world of wonder and shine the same on everyone. But little words can hold a candle all your own when darkness comes. They’re just the size for us to handle. God knows your native tongue.” In other words, while the sun always shines, it doesn’t always shine on us. We live in darkness at times, and it is delusional to claim otherwise. Don’t get me wrong. The sun is great; it just doesn’t help us much in the middle of the night when it’s hidden half way around the world – or when it feels that way. What we need in the darkness is a candle - something smaller, something closer, Someone we can name. And for us as Christians, and for me certainly, that name is “Jesus.”

I’m not sure what to do with a god who can’t be known at all, who has no name, no history, no track record. Jesus, for one, knew darkness. He knew vulnerability. He knew all the things we think an Almighty God can’t know. He knew what it was like to have to depend on other people and to have even your most diligent, industrious efforts rejected. He knew what it was like to feel the weight and responsibility of a name, to have a heritage and character to live up to – and he revealed all of those things to us in the very heart of the One who made us all.

Because of Jesus, we’ll never see the LORD the same way ever again. We know more now what it means when we say “the LORD saves.” We see that salvation from the powers of sin and death embodied in Jesus – not just in how he died, but in how he lived and treated people, in the kingdom he proclaimed with people from every tribe and language and people and nation. We repeat the good news of that salvation every time we say his name: Jesus. The LORD saves. Blessed be the name of the LORD. Amen.