December 31, 2006
(Eve of the Feast of The Holy Name of Jesus)
What’s in a Name?
by The Rev. Bruce Hall,
Deacon
Numbers 6:22-27 • Galatians 4:4-7 or Philippians 2:5-11
• Luke 2:15-21
(From
The Lectionary Page)
I don’t know about you, but I meet some of most interesting people when they’re dead. No, I am not an embalmer, funeral director, or grave robber. What I am is an avid listener of National Public Radio. Occasionally, NPR carries the story that someone famous in politics, arts and letters, or sports as died. Frequently, the departed were interviewed by Terry Gross (isn’t everyone?) and it is not uncommon for the recording to be rebroadcast. It’s always strange being introduced to someone by way of their death, but there it is, or there I am, listening intently to soulful voice of Nina Simone floods over me during rush hour. Nina wasn’t my first postmortem “howdy” but it is one of more memorable. As I sat in the car and watched the sun set faster than the traffic moved, I learned about her life as an artist, trained as a classical pianist, but one who became so much more.
It was the music that hooked me. It was at that time that I fell in love.
While not observed officially by the Episcopal Church, the fact that I arrived home without an accident constitutes a minor miracle worthy of its own feast day. That night I bought the first of many CD’s where her music would come to both soothe and provoke and, finally, take a permanent place among the creaks and groans of my old house.
After Nina, there were others, but never like her. There was Bobby, the Manhattan cabaret singer, and Edward, the illustrator, who gave us some of the more remarkably disturbing depictions of Edwardian manner and sensibility. Long before I also met a monk on public television named Thomas, whose chance encounter I made during an “oriental philosophy” class profoundly shaped my growing awareness of my own Catholicism and conviction that silence, solitude, and contemplation were to play a central role in the maturation of my faith. Henri was there too, Henri Nouen, a priest and writer who wrote deeply about prayer and our need to offer hospitality to others in the name of Christ.
Yes, I’ve met some of the most interesting people upon their death. Consequently, while I may have bought their books or enjoyed their music I know I can never meet them in the flesh. No matter how powerful their ideas or emotionally healing their music, I cannot relate to them in the here-and-now. Good to meet you, bummer you’ve died.
Once again, Mother Church has begun to observe the liturgical remembering of the story of Jesus. Here amid the twelve days of Christmas we are well on our way once more retelling and proclaiming the ministry of Jesus and the Good News that He Saves. Tomorrow is the Feast of the Holy Name which we anticipate in tonight’s mass. This feast commemorates the naming and circumcision of Mary’s child, as was the Hebrew custom, on the eighth day following birth. Both are signs of God’s intention for humankind. By Christ’s circumcision, His body was marked to distinguish it as separate, as Hebrew, as Gods. His name in Aramaic, Yeshua, means “the one who saves” and was a second mark made that day to proclaim His ministry and purpose for the whole world.
Naming is important. Naming makes real. Naming shapes meaning and our understanding of the reality around us. Anyone who has chosen the name for their child senses this. Perhaps it only goes the level of ruling out names based on anticipated school yard taunts. Often, it is a careful process to pick just “the right name.” A friend of mind is, is very moment, expecting her first child. Her due date is a few days past. I recall the care that she and her husband took in deciding upon the name—Tristan—adding yet another Celtic name to an Irish clan.
The Holy Mother had no such choice. The name was chosen for her, yet another sign that God was at work here. This child came into the world to manifest God’s will in the world. Mary, the God Bearer, was the vessel of this incarnation and not the source. What an awesome, humbling, call to bear. Silence, pondering such a mystery in one’s heart, would seem to be the most genuine expression of such wonder. How wonderful that God should come down from heaven and live like you and I, adopting not merely the appearance of humanity but its very substance.
As you and I retell the ancient story of God’s love for us we are telling the story of a risen Christ. In the saving work of Christ death, burial, and resurrection we have become more than a distant observer in time to God’s work. We have been adopted. You and I have been named, marked, as “sons” and “daughters” and brought again into relationship with our creator. Reach out now to the God who made you and knows you by name. God is here, in the present moment not only in some past event.
Ponder that.
In the creed we will soon recite together, we will reaffirm the Gospel that Christ saves and in the Eucharistic prayer we will recall his death while proclaiming that Christ lives now. Unlike the retrospectives on NPR, today’s Gospel is this very moment telling you and I about the living. Now. Here. In this moment, the one of whom we speak, Jesus Christ, is available to each of us.
Come, let us adore him and the Holy Name that saves us all.
