WHAT'S IN A NAME?
Acts 4:5-12, 1 John 3:16-24, John 10:11-18
I am
convinced that there is no end to the trivia one can find while surfing
the internet. Most of it is utterly worthless – tidbits of
inconsequential information that might surface on a quiz show but
otherwise add nothing to our quality of life or its meaning and
purpose. But then again, a preacher finds a sermon in most
anything...
In January of this year, researchers at the University of Newcastle
reported on a study that struck me as fodder for a sermon: Dairy cows
that are given names and called by those names produce, on average, 4%
more milk than do unnamed cows. By placing more importance on
the individual, such as calling a cow by her name or interacting with
the animal more as it grows up, we not only improve the animal’s
welfare and her perception of humans, but also increase production.
A psychology professor interviewed on a recent NPR program challenged the idea expressed by Juliet in a line from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet:
"...a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." Two paper
bags were filled with rose petals. One was labeled "rose petals";
the other was labeled "grass clippings". Participants, unable to
see into the bags, were asked to sniff the contents and identify which
was sweeter. Perhaps not surprisingly, the bag labeled as roses
was significantly more often chosen over the one labeled grass
clippings. We are influenced by the name we give to things -
creating expectations for that thing or person.
A little closer to home, I recall, somewhat ashamedly, the conflict I
had with my own name early in life. My father’s name was William
Dryden Burton. My maternal grandfather, my strongest image of a
good man, was named John Edward Young. At birth, I was given the
names John Dryden. Now John was pretty common and didn’t call
attention to oneself. Dryden, on the other hand, had a strange
sound to it. I only heard my dad called Bill except on the rare
occasion when we would visit folks who new him as a young boy. To
them he was Dryden. And to hear him called that created a sense of
embarrassment.
As I grew older, I didn’t use that part of my name unless
necessary. I did eventually take notice that my English and
literature professors seemed to take an extra interest when they saw
the John Dryden but by then I was at odds with my dad.
It was not until after his death and the restoration of our
relationship that I began to include that part of my name in regular
use. It was helpful in that John D. Burton was a name shared with
a few others in Waco – including the hospital pharmacist where I was
chaplain. But more importantly, I came to include it to honor the
father that I had not understood when I was younger and to, in my own
mind, maintain a connection that came to have meaning to me in terms of
heritage and calling, to accept that his life shaped my own.
Calling someone by name is no little thing. It identifies us; our
name connects us with our past, gives us identity in our present, and
lies at the root of our immortality.
The first task given to Adam was to name the animals – the scientists
at Newcastle are catching up! And in the first genealogical summary in
Genesis, in Chapter 5, we read “…in the day that God created man, in
the likeness of God made he him; Male and female created he them; and
blessed them, and called their name Adam…”
When Jacob wrestles with the angel of God, even in defeat, he asks the
angel’s name – a form of controlling knowledge – and in return is given
a new name – Israel. A parallel event occurs in the Christian story
when Saul, fighting against God by trying to suppress this growing
Jewish sect called The Way, is stricken and given a new name – Paul.
Moses meets the God of Israel in the desert and demands a name to which
the response is I AM – the name to which Jesus responds when on trial –
and with the memorial name of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
Samuel is called as a little boy to be a prophet to Israel when he
hears God calling him in the midnight hour and a century later, the
prophet Isaiah records (Isaiah 43:1-2) the great promise to a people on
the verge of going into captivity: “… thus says the LORD … who formed
you, O Israel, Do not fear, 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 through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk
through the fire, you will not be scorched, nor will the flame burn
you.”
And perhaps most striking of all is the incident on Resurrection Day
when Mary goes early to the tomb seeking to mourn her friend and Lord,
only to find the stone rolled away and the tomb empty. She encounters
the risen Christ and takes him for the gardener – perhaps a spiritual
allusion to Adam as the first gardener – but comes to recognize him
when he calls her name.
Allow me one more example: just last week, we heard these words from I
John, “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called
children of God; and that is what we are.”
We must never overlook the importance – the power - of name. It
identifies and connects and shapes our relationships, our very being.
And so it is that the good shepherd knows the sheep and calls them by
name. Jesus, according to the 10th chapter of John’s Gospel reminds us
the good shepherd calls his sheep by name and leads them out.
We often see this as an image of peace and comfort – but think it through.
It is worth noting that the shepherd leads rather than sends, the
shepherd brings the sheep to the place where they can grow and mature.
He leads them to pasture and to water; he watches over and protects
them. And in the end, he leads them to the place of slaughter where
they lay down their life to become food for the hungry.
Jesus sought followers – not admirers and he calls us yet; he leads us
– but the way of the shepherd leads through the cross. William
Alexander Percy; wrote a poem; it appears as #661 in the 1982 Hymnal:
They cast their nets in Galilee, just off the hills of brown;
Such happy, simple fisherfolk, before the Lord came down.
Contented, peaceful fishermen, before they ever knew
The peace of God that filled their hearts brimful, and broke them too.
Young John who trimmed the flapping sail, homeless in Patmos died.
Peter, who hauled the teeming net, head-down was crucified.
The peace of God, it is no peace, but strife closed in the sod;
Yet, brothers, pray for but one thing — the marvelous peace of God.
Luke tells us that those who chose to follow the Way
were first called Christians at Antioch. A derogatory term in the
beginning, we tend today to hear that name used with an air of
superiority. But remember, when we take the name of Christ, we identify
with him. To hear him call us by our name and Christian is to enter
into a heritage, to be changed in the present, to be shaped and led to
love and to serve and to die to self. "We know love by this, that
he laid down his life for us..."
When we come to the altar and share with one another the body and blood
of Christ, we are committing our lives to following where he leads, to
hear his voice, to become like him.
The Rev. John Dryden Burton
St. James’ Episcopal Church
Eureka Springs. AR
4 Easter
May 3, 2009
5.09