It is hard to begin work in a parish. The first and most important thing to do is to learn the names of people. It is vital to learn names. When I mispronounce the name of someone, I hurt their feelings, and even make them feel unwanted. I will never forget when I was ordained a deacon and my bishop called me Karen. I wondered if I had actually been ordained.
Back when I first came to this Cathedral, I was watching TV at our beach bungalow in Atlantic Beach when a television pastor came on. I will never forget his sermon. He was preaching to a huge crowd. At least 1000 people seemed to be gathered. He had the crowd all reved up. And this is what he said,
I am a Gator Fan! With these words, half the crowd cheered and half booed.
But if the Gators loose three in a row, I just might become a Seminole Fan! Have the crowded went wild, half booed.
Because I like a winner!
My Jesus, he’s a winner. My Jesus, he’s an All-American!
I remember vividly turning to JD. “Strange,” I said. “I thought he was a Jew from Palestine.”
My Jesus. Why did he think that Jesus belonged to him? I was almost envious of the way that he claimed Jesus, as if they were best friends.
Most of us Episcopalians don’t speak a lot about Jesus. We feel that his name is too sacred just to throw around. We want to hold it close to our hearts. Sometimes I wonder if we are also worried that we might offend people of other religions. Should I or shouldn’t I, say the name? Will it offend people? It might. Better off just to say God. One Baptist minister says, Honoring all faiths, I pray in the name of Jesus, but that seems awfully wordy to me. Why not just say God? But we rarely pray to Jesus. Most of the time, we say Lord.
Why is it that we are shy about using his Name?
I read a story about a college girl who was attacked while walking to her dorm one night. She attended a beautiful college on a wooded campus. She was walking on a well-lit path, with her backpack over her shoulder, when a man grabbed her from behind and dragged her into the woods.
The girl did something strange. Instead of screaming or fighting, she began to speak. She told him her name.
My name is Sarah, she said. What’s your name?
He tore off her backpack and pushed her to the ground.
My name is Sarah. What’s your name?
My name is Sarah, she repeated as he stood over her, ready to hurt her.
And then he stopped. He just stood there, staring at her on the ground.
He left her lying on the ground. He did not hurt her. There was something powerful about knowing her name. She made him see her as a person, not an object. And he stopped his violence.
Many of us know that there are children all over the world who are starving to death. We know the facts, and we know the numbers. But we do not know their names, so we’re able to say, That’s too bad. And then we move on. But when an agency writes us with the name of one child, say one tiny girl who needs food, it is much harder to say no, much harder to stay detached. For in knowing her name, she becomes real to us; she becomes, in some way, related to us. And we cannot watch her die. We must act. Why do so many relief agencies ask you to adopt a child? Because then you will see a person, hear a name and you will be generous.
Eight days after their child was born, Mary and Joseph took him to be circumcised according to Jewish custom. It was at this time that the child was given a name. Jesus. Babies died so often either in childbirth or in the first few days afterwards that they were not fully human until the naming ceremony. When they were given a name, they became a person. And their life began.
To this day, we take naming seriously. I remember pouring over books before naming our first born. I was aware of how his name would affect his character, perhaps his personality. It seemed such a monumental decision. Would we name him after anyone? Would he have a name from the Bible? We understand how the name of a person can impact their life.
When we baptize a child, I will ask the parents, Name this child. And with the name, the child is baptized. Names are spoken in marriage, in burial, they represent the essence, the individuality of a person. To love someone is to speak their name. Somehow the personality of the beloved is reflected, captured in the sound of the name.
This child was given the name Jesus. It means The One who Saves.
God had given us a name once before, on Mt Sinai. But the name had been so full of mystery that no Jew even dared to pronounce it. Many Jews even today call God Adonai, which means Lord, rather than speak the name of Yahweh. And to this day, because ancient Hebrew had no vowels, we do not even know how God’s name was pronounced. We can only guess.
But when the baby came to us, God gave us a human name. A name to speak with familiarity and with love, a name that we could pronounce easily and remember well. God gave us the name of his Son, Jesus.
From the first centuries, Christians viewed this name as holy. Inherent in the name itself was a bit of the presence of the one who bore it. We were supposed to pray in his name, in the name of Jesus. That was the way that all Christians were and still are called to pray.
For hundreds of years, Christians wrote his name in symbols. IHS. Jesous Hominum Salvatio. Jesus savior of mankind. Jesus, the one who saves the world.
So why is it that we are shy to speak of him when his name is a gift to us? Why do we feel that we are somehow not being respectful if we talk to him as we would a friend? Didn’t he want that? Doesn’t he still want that?
When Mary was weeping at the tomb of Jesus, he appeared to her, but she could not recognize him through all her grief. And then he spoke her name, Mary. With the words of her name, she awoke and she recognized him.
Do you want Jesus to speak your name one day, to wake you up to his presence? If you want this, then don’t be afraid to speak his name. Speak it every day, quietly and loudly, in prayer and in song. Use the sounds that God has given you to speak of his Son. The sounds are gifts to you, bridges to the presence of the Almighty. His name is your gift.
It’s hard to believe that you are on a first-name basis with God. But you are.
God said, Please, call me Jesus.
