John 17:1-11

 

             

“What’s in a name?” asked Shakespeare’s Romeo. “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

 

            He has a point. Names can be arbitrary and interchangeable. Take for example, that useful little tool that measures the air pressure in tires. Most of the world knows it as a tire gauge. Not our family. Many years ago, for some reason that none of us can remember, one of our kids started calling it a thrinch. Ever since then, we have never called that little device by any name other than thrinch; in fact, I have to think hard to come up the more common name for that thing. It doesn’t make any difference. Whether you call it a tire gauge or a thrinch doesn’t affect its performance one bit.

           

            The same goes with whack-and-serves. You know those Pillsbury rolls that come in tubes where you slam them on the corner of the counter and they pop open? I guess most of the world knows them as refrigerator rolls. But in our family we have always called them whack-and-serves. It can cause some confusion if we accidentally write that on recipe cards for other people, but they taste the same regardless of what you call them. 

 

            No one from Hebrew culture, however, would ever have asked the question, “What’s in a name?” Names were not trivial to them. In fact, their name was just about the most important thing that they owned.

 

            Names are so important in the Bible that there are more than 700 passages that talk about names, most often about the name of God.

            Many of the psalms talk about praising God’s name. Blessed be the name of the Lord; blessed be the one who comes in the name of the Lord.

            Psalm 54 says, “Save me, O God, by your name.”

            Other verses talk about making a temple or dwelling place for God’s name. My name will remain in Jerusalem.”

 

            Jesus was every bit as aware of the importance of the name of God. Right at the top of the Lord’s Prayer, he says, “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name.”

 

            And in today’s Gospel reading, Jesus prays to God about a very important mission to which he was entrusted. “God, I have made your name known to those whom you gave me from this world.”

 

            Of course, we recognize that names matter. They help us to sort out our world; they make communication possible by letting others know exactly who or what we are talking about. But we are beginning to lose touch with the significance of names. According to the book Freakonomics, in California in recent years, nearly 40% of the babies born have been given made-up names. Names that have no meaning, no history, no connection with anyone past or present. The names are chosen primarily for the way they sound.

 

            In the Bible, names mean a whole lot more. Names are a lot more than merely pleasant-sounding labels. They convey a range of meaning that goes to the very heart of who we are, and that’s why the name of God was so important to them.

 

            First of all, names are not neutral.

           

            By a show of hands, how many of you like the name that your parents gave to you?

 

            I grew up disliking my name. I thought it was weird; there weren’t any other Nathans when I was a kid. Made me seem like such an oddball. I had this football coach in junior high who always called me Nate. No one had ever done that before. Kinda liked that. At least it was better than Nathan. To my mothers’ disappointment, I started going by that. Linda has never known me by anything else.

 

            Names are not neutral. They convey something. They color us; they shade us. In fact, to some degree, a name defines us and shapes us. That’s what that old Johnny Cash song, A Boy Named Sue, was all about. There is no doubt in my mind that if I had been named Poindexter at birth, or if I had been named Adolph in that decade following World War II, I would be a different person than I am today.

            In the 1970s General Motors discovered the hard way that names are not neutral, when they began marketing the Chevrolet Nova to Central and South America. It was a popular car and they expected to sell many of them.

            They were wrong. They could not sell Novas south of the border, and it was all because of the name. “No va” in Spanish means, “doesn’t go.” Nobody wanted to buy a car whose name announces that it doesn’t run.

 

            Names are not neutral.

             

            Secondly, names are not just identification tags that we wear so that people can tell us apart from others; they are the most personal possessions that we own.

 

            After my teenage years, I got to the point where I appreciated my name. I went by both Nathan or Nate, depending on what people wanted to call me. It didn’t really matter to me which name people used. At least that’s what I thought.

            But when I was first published, I used Nathan. It seemed a more formal, more dignified. Then, without even consulting me, the publisher changed my name to Nate on the sports books I was doing. He said it sounded more athletic. 

 

            I was irritated. That wasn’t his choice to make. That was my name they were playing with and taking ownership of. That was my identity. They had no right to decide what my name was in a public venue.

            There are some Native American cultures that recognize how sacred the name is to a person’s soul and identity. When the parents decide on a name for the child, they whisper it in the child’s ear before it is announced to the world. The name is the child’s personal identity. It belongs to the child, and this ritual respects that fact.

 

            Names are intensely personal.

 

            Third point, because names are so personal, so tied up in who we are, they are among the most valuable gifts we have to offer.

 

            There are billions of people on earth whose names I don’t know. To me, they exist only in an abstract way. Until I share my name with someone, and they share theirs with me, we have no basis for a relationship. Knowing the name is the first point of contact that leads to sharing with others.

 

            We have some nicknames in our family, none of which I will reveal. The kids are fine with those names, as long as they stay within family and close friends. But they don’t like it when other people use those names. The nickname is the symbol of a long-term and deep relationship. Those who use the name with having established that deep relationship are presuming an intimacy that does not exist.

 

            Names are valuable gifts.

 

            The last point is that the name is not only a personal possession, it is one of our most important group possessions. Every family member who shares the same last name knows they are connected so closely that what one does affects the others. If I bring shame to myself by my behavior, I bring shame to all the family who share that name. If I establish a reputation for honesty, and kindness, and competence, that reflects on all others who bear my name.

 

            Names are not neutral.

            They give us our personal identity.  

            They are among the most valuable gifts we have to offer

            They give us our group identity.

 

            How does all this work in the name of God?

 

            Let’s compare the God of the Bible with a contemporary representation of God from popular culture. Most of us are at least somewhat familiar with the Star Wars phenomenon. I assume most recognize the phrase, “The Force be with you.”

 

            Do you know how you can tell the Lutherans at a showing of a Star Wars film? When someone on the screen says, “The Force be with you,” they answer, “And also with you.”

 

            The Force is George Lucas’s representation of divine presence. Take a moment to compare it to the God of the Bible and I think we can see the importance of name of the Lord.

 

            There are no neutral names. The Force is a term from the world of physics. It is purposely vague and impersonal, like energy field or the effect of gravity. It implies that this deity is something you cannot know or understand; you can only see its effects. The Force is the modern version of the Unknown God that the Greeks worshipped in Paul’s time.

            The Force is not a personal name. Anytime you put the in front of a name, you add distance—you remove the personal. Duane Johnson is a person; when he becomes “The Rock,” he’s no longer a person—he’s an act. Donald Trump is a person. The Donald is an image, no one who has a personal relationship with him calls him that.

            Since the Force is an impersonal title, it doesn’t share anything. It does not establish any relationship. The Force has no personal interest or stake in the world. It simply exists. It’s there—a fact of life. We can learn to use it to our advantage or ignore it to our disadvantage. But you can no more have a relationship with it than you can with a gravitational field.

            Finally, since the Force exists all by itself, independent of everyone, it offers no group identity. What you do with the force reflects only on yourself, not on the force. The Force just is what it is. Use it badly, you’re part of the Dark Side. Use it well, you are part of the Jedi. 

 

            What about the God of the Bible?

 

            There are no neutral names. The term God implies individuality, personhood, consciousness. God is not an impersonal power.

 

            God established in the Bible a personal identity. Jesus referred to God as Father, an indication of a close, caring connection. Jesus is often called Immanuel—God with us. Unlike the Force, the name of God is filled with invitation, relationship.

 

            God has a name, and God’s identity is tied up in that name. That name and identity is one of the most important things God owns. Yet, in utter contrast to the Force, God is willing to share that very personal and valuable gift with us.

 

            In the book of Exodus, Moses dares to ask God what his name is. Given the relative status of the two, Moses was out of line. He had no right to ask that. But God chose to respond. God gives him a name by which Moses can call him. YHWH, “I am who I am.”

 

            It’s not a name that tells us much about God. But by sharing that name with Moses that name, he opened the door to personal relationship. “This is my name, and you can use it. This is my identity. I’ve opened up and let you see who I am. Now we have a relationship.” That’s something you can’t have with The Force.

            Finally, the name of God gives us our group identity. Because God has given us God’s name and shared that name with us so that we are part of it, we are God’s people. We are included in the task of working for the Kingdom of God.

            We are so closely connected that what we do reflects on God. If I bring shame to myself by my behavior, I bring shame the people of God. If I establish a reputation for honestly, kindness, competence, and love, that reflects on all who bear the name of Christ.

            More importantly, what God does reflects on us. Fortunately for us, God is the more powerful member of this group. What God does in forgiving sin, in demonstrating the awesome power of love on the cross, and in creating life and new life, reflects on all of us. Because God has given us God’s name and shared that name with us so that we are part of it, we are pulled along into salvation. By the power of God’s name, we are carried along into new life.

 

            That’s why that benediction is so important, and why I seldom omit it or change it in any way. God explains the reason for giving that blessing in Numbers 6: “So shall they shall put my name on the people, and I will bless them.”

 

            God be with you. Blessed be the name of the Lord. Amen.