What’s In a Name?
Second Sunday of Lent - Year B
March 8, 2009

Let us pray: O God, you know us and name us as yours. May these words help us to better know you as ours. Amen.

Many of you know that Lorne Gushue and I were invited to cook pancakes on CBC Radio a couple of weeks ago, the occasion being the end of the season after Epiphany and Pancake Tuesday, one of the names that is often given to Shrove Tuesday. Besides the whipping and flipping I was cued to offer some insight into the season of Lent, including the reasons for eating pancakes on Shrove Tuesday and the connection with the tradition of fasting during the season of Lent, or indeed the broader tradition of giving something up for Lent. I think I might have offered a fresh perspective on the season when I suggested that it is possible to add something to your life during Lent instead of making it a time of denial. I offered the example of an acquaintance from my time as a participant in Ecunet - an electronic community of church leaders primarily around North America, but also with connections to the other continents in our world. The person I’m thinking of instituted the practice of writing a haiku poem as a response to the daily lectionary reading for the day. He shared these poems online with anyone who had signed up to read them. This Lenten discipline for him in the writing became a Lenten discipline for us in the reading as we were inspired by his insights and craft.

The point of a Lenten discipline - whether it is one of fasting or one of doing something extra, at least in part is that of a prod. When we deny ourselves something it prompts us to remember the reason for so doing, and in turn we are then prompted to think about God. The same can happen when we intentionally do something extra - like the haiku writing minister, the practice of which was added to his life during Lent - as a routine to help him focus his mind, and then even more to write something in response to a scripture passage, adding to the focus and reflection. He could have kept his work to himself, its work done, but he then added to the feast by sharing what he had been inspired to write.

Lent is itself a kind of discipline established in the Christian year as a time to focus intentionally. We come to Lent, and we are reminded to think about our relationship with God.

Yesterday, a group of us from Yellowknife formed our own kind of Ecunet - an ecumenical network of spiritual companions - sisters and brothers in the spirit - as we gathered in the chapel and here in this auditorium to reflect on spiritual discernment under the leadership of Nancy Reeves who is in Yellowknife to offer leadership to a Lenten mission at St. Patrick’s Roman Catholic church this week. One of the prerequisites for discernment that was named by Nancy was a daily spiritual practice - an intentional discipline - a specific addition to our lives that allows us to focus on our relationship with God. There are lots of different ways to have a spiritual practice - the method is not as important as the intention. The point is to focus our attention on our relationship with God.

What’s in a name, the title for this reflection asks. We heard about the change of name for Abram and Sarai in our reading from the Hebrew Bible. What’s in a name? Something like a Lenten discipline. Whether added or subtracted in one’s life during the season, a Lenten discipline provides an occasion, a reminder, a focussed time of attention and reflection on our relationship with God. Names were vitally important in biblical Hebrew culture. Many, many stories in the Hebrew bible are about names - names of places, names of people, as reminders of an event, an encounter with God, a blessing, a challenge. The names encapsulate so much of the story in a single word or phrase. But not only did names tell the story, they were more. They were part of the essence of the place or person. That’s why God’s name is so mysterious. If a name captures all there is to know, then how can one capture all of who and what God is, and so God’s name remains an enigma, a riddle, an unpronounceable word. The transcendence of God, the indescribable part of God which goes beyond our knowing is thus symbolised by a word that cannot be uttered. Given the cultural and spiritual significance of names, how important was it then for Abram and Sarai to have a change of name. The point of course is to create a kind of dissonance, a point of questioning. Imagine this conversation, on a trip to whatever a Hebrew post office looked like in Abram’s (ahem Abraham’s) time. He is stopped on the street by a friend:

“Hi Abram, how’s it going?”.

“Actually, it’s Abraham, now. I changed my name. Well, I didn’t exactly change my name, but my name got changed.”

“How did that happen? What’s that all about, Abram, I mean Abraham?”

“Sarai, I mean Sarah’s expecting. Well, not exactly expecting, but word is that she’s going to be expecting.”

“Sarah? She changed her name too? What’s with you guys? Don’t you have to sign some forms or something to change your names? And what do you mean she’s going to be expecting? I thought the days of worrying about that sort of thing were over for you, like about six decades ago.”

“Well, it sort of happened at the same time. The name change I mean, and the expecting thing. And really the worry was the other way. We were worried when we couldn’t have kids, more than we are worried about having them now.”

“And the name change?”

“Well it is kind of like this. As if the promise of children wasn’t enough to remind us, we were told by YHWH (remember that there was no way to pronounce God’s name) - and stop your laughing - we’ve already decided that will be the name of our son, and that should be quite enough reminder for everyone - we were told by YHWH that our new names would also be a reminder. And I would say it’s working. I mean just look at this conversation I am having with you, and I can just bet that everyone I meet for the next while, everyone who knew me as Abram, is going to have a conversation with me like this one, and then I fully expect that whenever anyone stops short referring to me by my old name, Abram, changing it to Abraham, or Sarai, changing it to Sarah, will be reminded of the story, and the promise we have from YHWH.”

So, do you see how that works? A name change prompts a conversation, which leads to a reflection on God and God’s grace. That’s one of the ways that a Lenten discipline works as well. We pause and in that pausing, we think of God. There’s more, of course, because the discipline invites us to enter even more deeply into the relationship, but just stopping begins the journey, just a name, or a significant name change can do much the same. What’s in a name? A symbol of a relationship with God. A sign of who and whose we are, and a reminder and invitation to nurture that relationship. Amen.