BY NAME

Decades ago, someone gave me this mug bearing the correct spelling for my name. I gratefully “wear” this name as it honors my father, John, for which “Jeanne” is a feminine form. And “John” is Hebrew for “God is gracious.” Certainly the idea of “God's grace” fit the reaction of a really-old first-time mom and dad, Elizabeth and Zachariah, whose baby boy "John" would be a cousin to Jesus. In fact, John's parents didn't name that baby. God did via the angel who announced the upcoming, miracle pregnancy (Luke 1:13, 63).

My dad's mother (named “Alvina,” meaning “noble friend”) died in 1927 when he was twelve years old. I was told that she had pneumonia, deadly in those days before antibiotics. She left three children (my dad was the oldest), and a deeply bereaved home. My middle name is my mother's name, Irene, which is Greek for “peace.” She was the oldest of nine born into poverty in a log cabin on a homestead in eastern Montana. Her father was a Norwegian immigrant; her mother had polio and was left with one leg shorter than the other. Yet despite that disability, she raised nine children (three girls, six boys) amid the hardships of primitive farm life. Yes, my name reminds me of my heritage.

So why all this chatter about names? Maybe because one of my favorite Bible passages in Isaiah speaks of names and God's intimate connection with His own. Although the passage addressed the nation Israel during its troubled history, it also speaks of God's character in loving and protecting those of us centuries later who look to Him as our Creator, Provider, and Savior:

Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze....You are precious and honored in my sight... I love you. (Isaiah 43:1b-2)

This passage especially reminds me of the Exodus story of how a huge people group was miraculously released from crippling Egyptian slavery to begin a long trek to freedom and a new life. Forty arduous, miracle-filled years later, this infant nation stepped into the Jordan River, whose waters miraculously parted. Fathers, mothers, children of all ages went forward for what must have been a scary yet exuberant crossing over a bare riverbed to a yet-unseen new homeland.

This is known history! It is also a record of the Divine Plan. Those thousands that participated in the long and miracle-saturated desert “exodus” learned how helpless they were without the help of God. This wasn't some man-planned expedition. It was a God-plan. These people weren't numbers to God. Each mattered. He knew each by name.

Did you pause at the boldfaced phrase quoted above? God didn't whistle for us (like livestock) or ring a bell or buzzer (like we heard in school!). He knows our names—the ones we like, maybe the ones we didn't. But he sees past the human naming ritual, even past our disappointing sin choices, to call us by loving names: Mine. Precious. Honored, My Love. Imagine those names on your mug! That would be my go-to mug, every day!

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I wondered if someone had come up with a song based on Isaiah 43:1, and the answer is “yes.” Click here: Bing Videos

GOOD NAMES

Her name tag said “Edna,” and I was impressed by the joy and courtesy this clerk at my local hardware store showed as I hunted items in the garden section. Immediately, I thought of another “Edna,” who lived across from my childhood home. She faithfully practiced a “religion” of lodges, achieving in her old age the rank of “Grand Worthy High Priestess” of her particular lodge.I couldn't help but contrast their personalities. The local Edna treated me like I was the most important customer of the day. All I bought was rose food and shredded bark. But her customer service was tops. I commented on her name, saying I'd only known one other Edna. Neither of us knew the name's meaning.

When I got home, I did two things. The bottom of my sales slip said I could comment online about my store visit, so I logged in and praised her customer service. Survey done, I looked up the meaning of her name. I learned that women named “Edna” were found in old Bible-times writings.

One was the wife of Enoch, the great-great-great-great-great grandson of Adam, and great-grandfather of Noah. We're told Enoch lived a holy and faithful life for more than three centuries, then was taken straight to heaven without earthly dying. The other “Edna” was a wife of Isaac's hunter-son Esau, known for conflict with his twin brother Jacob, who cheated Esau of his birthright.

The Bible doesn't tell us about the character of these women, but the name means “pleasure, delight.” And who wouldn't want to have such a reputation associated with our names? On a return trip to the hardware store, I took a 3x5 card on which I'd written out the meaning of Edna's name. She'd never known its “meaning,” and flashed an appreciative smile.

My little “name hunt” reminded me of the truth expressed in Proverbs 22:1: “A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold.” I'm not saying that a particular name guarantees a blessing, but a person's good character certainly honors it.

My name, Jeanne, is a French feminine of the Bible name, John. My dad was named “John,” and I've learned it means “God is gracious.” Since I wasn't “John Jr.,” perhaps the “Jeanne” etymology from “John” influenced my parents in choosing my name.

Researching names can be quite interesting. I know I have a “name twin” (first/last) in this state who has served faithfully in her city's government. Some years ago, we met when she passed through my town. I'm grateful for her good reputation!

But this whole “name-thing” makes me think twice about people who don't live up to the meanings of their names. Or, birth names aside, they call themselves “Christian” and don't reflect the love and care of the Lord Jesus. A good relationship with a good God is a very good thing! Through the prophet Isaiah, God expressed how special Israel was to Him. He created the nation, one person at a time, and called them out to settle Canaan:

Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; you are Mine. (Isaiah 43:1)

The principle still applies. Those who are called out by God—those who wear the faith-name “Christian”--are to conduct their lives in a manner worthy of Him. Our testimony may show up in the most unusual places, like the “garden center” at a local hardware store.

The Name Game

My battered name book, which I keep
handy for choosing names in fiction.

Our son and his wife will soon welcome their first baby—our first grandchild. They had a girl’s name picked out early in her pregnancy, then learned it’s a boy. We haven’t heard their choice for a boy’s name.  Sounds like they’ve had some discussions, as my husband and I did when picking out names for our firstborn.  I remember when we told my husband’s parents the baby’s name right after his birth.  Their reaction was on the order of, “It’s what?”  “Zachary” (which means “God remembers”) wasn’t way out there, but it had no family precedents.

I had favored naming our firstborn “John” in memory of my godly father.  It’s a good, solid Bible name.  But my husband’s family line included a “John” whose reputation was rather tarnished.  So, “John” went down.  So did a pile of other names that reminded my teacher-husband of students he’d rather forget.

The other night, a newscast showed a man being arraigned for a terrible crime.  I cringed when the reporter said the accused man’s first name: “Christian.”  His behavior certainly didn’t match the standard set by our Lord.  I recalled  a story from a taped testimony by Dr. James Kennedy of “Evangelism Explosion” reputation. In it, he relayed a something associated with Alexander the Great, the famed world conqueror who lived three hundred years before Christ. Stern and ruthless, he often sentenced errant soldiers to death. One day, a 17-year-old was led before him, accused of fleeing from the enemy and hiding in the cave. When asked his name, the youth said, “Alexander.”  The king’s face flushed with anger. Exploding out of his throne, he grabbed the youth by his tunic and shouted, “Soldier, change your conduct or change your name!”

Proverbs 22:1 says, “A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold.” When, by faith in Jesus as Savior, we take the label “Christian,” we take on a good name—a Name above all names. With it comes the awesome responsibility of representing the Lord with the utmost integrity, grace, and compassion.  Our conduct reflects on our King of Kings, whose name we bear.

Do we fail Him, like that cowardly soldier? Yes.  Is He compassionate, willing to forgive? Yes, yes.  And here’s something better:  someday, the name our parents gave us won’t matter anymore.  Revelation 3:12 says God will give us a new name.  Although I like my name (it’s the feminine of “John” and means “God is gracious”), I’m confident God’s choice will be wonderful and just right!

The cat of a hundred names

The theology lesson, all two or three pounds of him, shook in a culvert pipe, alone. Probably a couple months old, he’d been abandoned at the park near our local hydroelectric dam. When no one was looking, people dumped cats and Easter bunnies there, illegally.

Becoming coyote casserole was his likely fate.

Then a father and teen son, on a guy-bonding time, passed by. They’d just left the stagnant oven of their valley home that August first. The rocky hills that shouldered the dam offered some shade, sweetened by the mist wafting off spillways.

They heard the faint “mew.” Two softies, they couldn’t leave him there. Luring him out with a chicken nugget from a nearby trash bin, they swathed him in a towel from the trunk of the car and brought him home.

To a mom who was asthmatic. Who choked and sneezed around cats.

“Where’s some tuna? Get some milk. We’ll just keep him overnight and try to find a home.”

Promises, promises.

That was more than eight years ago. The wisp of a kitten is now 15 pounds of aloofness, deprived of his malehood but not of his territorial temper. Identified with his city pet license and proof of rabies vaccine. Called “Auggie” (for August 1, when he was found) and dozens of other names. More than 150, in fact. When cleaning out the other day, I found a cat-name list my son and his sister had concocted. “Buick.” “Rumplefatskin.” “King Midas of the Golden Drool.” “Bleh.” “Mookie.” “Slug” (my favorite). I’ll spare you the entire list.

No matter how insulting the name, the cat responded in the usual cat way of ignoring us…unless we had a can labeled “Friskies” in hand and he was hungry.

That cat-name list reminded me of something wonderful about our relationship with God. Devotional author Max Lucado wrote about it. God whispers our names. He calls us by name (Isaiah 45:4). Our names are written on His hand (Isaiah 49:16). Even when we muddle under the generic name “sinner,” He knows the name He created us to have: Child of God. Lamb. Beloved. My Precious One.

He rescued us from something far worse than coyote teeth. The One who hung on a cross with a sign declaring “King of the Jews” (John 19:21) took away the condemning name, the hellish destination. He made it possible to have a new name. Redeemed One. Forgiven. Chosen.

His name is Jesus. Savior. Lord.

He whispers your name, in love. Can you hear it?