Names

For a long time, I had trouble with my name. My middle name is the name my father went by. I used to not tell people. It dealt with my anger towards my father (which I have mostly gotten over, but that’s a story for another time).  However, it was my first name that gave me trouble. Michael. Or, as most people call me, Mike. Not a bad name. It means either “lover of God,” or “one who is like God.” Comes from the name given to one of the archangels. Quite a bit to live up to. But that was not the problem.

The problem was its popularity. From before I was born until I was in my early 50s, it was the most popular name given to boys in America. And whenever you hear your name, you usually turn to see who’s calling you. Walk down a crowded street and shout “Hey Mike!” and see how many people turn around. When someone knows your name, they often have some kind of power in your life. Back when telemarketers used to call me at my churches, they would start off using my name as if they had been sitting in the front pew for the last few years. And it would make it harder for me to politely hang up the phone and get back to work.

Frederick Buechner wrote that when Moses wanted to know the name of the god who was talking to him at the burning bush (Exodus 3), it was so that he could have some power over that entity. God, of course, was not fooled. He gave him the answer “YHWH”, because the Hebrews did not use vowels. It could be translated YaHWeH- which means “I am who I am,” but also means “I am who I was“ and “I am who I will be.” Later God says, “Just say ‘I Am’ sent me.” And God hasn’t had a single moment of rest since. (I often think it could be pronounced “YooHWooH”.)

Names are also a sign of caring and attachment. My wife (name: Cathy) volunteers at the Florence Area Humane Society. She works mostly with the horses brought into their horse farm, but some of the larger dogs end up there. Everyone of them has a name. If they don’t have a name when they are brought in, they are given names immediately. Cathy comes home and talks to me about Rocco, Waylon, Willie, Reba, Kiera, and all the others. She cares for them more because she knows their name.

In the second creation story in Genesis (chapter 2), God brings the animals to Adama (the human God had created) and tells Adama to name them. That puts us in a relationship with them. We are to care for them. Bob Dylan wrote a song about it. The Hebrew scriptures tell us many times that God knows our name (e.g. Isaiah 43:1, Exodus 33:17, Isaiah 49:1), as well as the Christian scriptures (John 10:3, Luke 10:20, Revelation 2:17, to name a few). Not only does God know our names, God has named the stars (Psalm 147:4). This means God cares for all of creation.

Listening to the news about war, I thought about the casualties. Those in charge of making the decisions about going to war are usually told the estimated number of people who will die. It is usually given in percentages. “General, if we send in 10,000 troops we estimate we will suffer only 4.3% loss.” Doesn’t sound like much. Until you realize that its 430 people. Still, that sounds doable. But what if we said “Here’s the names of those most likely to die.” Even more, what if we added information, and photos. “Here’s John Brown. He’s the youngest son of his parents. He’s engaged to Sue and is planning on getting married when his tour of duty is up. He’s being sent in the front lines because he is a private, and he is more likely to die.” We often tell the story of the person after they are killed. What if we told their name beforehand? Reckon we would work harder to find ways other than war to solve problems? (Just a thought. Not looking for an argument.)

Farmers usually do not name their livestock. It makes it harder to butcher and eat JoJo the cow, Porky the pig, and Henrietta the hen. And they especially do not let their children name the animals.

Children (and adults) will often give names to inanimate objects, too. A young girl names her doll Susie, and it becomes more precious than unnamed dolls. A budding baseball player names their glove the name Snagglepuss, and they must have it at their games if they are to play their best. A teenager gets their first car and names it Prince (the name of my first car, a Plymouth Valiant), and it becomes important to them. Even a toddler will name their pacifier Binky, and no other pacifier will do.

When I lead prayer in church on Sundays, I try to pray for people by name. Not just “all the sick,” but for “Dora, Carl, Frances, and Cindy.” Names mean something. Something special. Don’t think so? Call the person you’re in a close relationship with the wrong name, and see what happens.

I’ve been going to Manna House, a local feeding ministry in Florence. There were about 40 people standing in line when I was there the other day. One of them talked with me. He told me his name, John. Now, I can’t stop thinking about him.

I wonder if it’s that way with God, who knows our name?