|
|
 |
Sermon of the Month Sermon preached by Fr. Spencer on Sunday, January 10 The ancients didn’t think about names in the same way that we do. We tend to think of names as pure signifiers and not as having any special meaning in themselves. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. I might have been named Stephen or anything else and have been the same person as I am with the name that I have. We can get attached to our names even though they do not have any meaning in themselves. When I was a boy I once said to my mother, “Mom, I’m really glad you named me Spencer; it’s a neat name,” and she responded, “Spencer, you’d like your name if it were mud!” Of course one can give a name that has a special meaning. Parents may name a child ‘lawyer’ or ‘judge’ to give them a leg up professionally. A character in Catch-22 was named Major Major Major Major. I don’t know whether it works or not. But the Hebrews among other ancient peoples didn’t think of names this way. They invested them with meaning and significance, and it made a difference what one was called. My favorite naming story is the one of the angel wrestling with Jacob. The angel wouldn’t tell Jacob his name, but he gave a new name to Jacob. Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but rather ‘Israel’, for you have wrestled with God. ‘Israel’ means “one who wrestles with God”. Isn’t that wonderful?. So forever Israel is known as the people who have this intense intimacy with God, not untroubled or without strife, but deeply involved and committed. And according to this understanding of names, to know the name of another person is to have power over them. To know who they are and to know something about them, knowledge that might be used against them. So the angel wrestling with Jacob would not give his name. When Moses was confronted by God in the burning bush, he asked God’s name, and God says “I am who I am”—which was transcribed in the Hebrew as Jahweh. As has been suggested, God told mankind his name, and He has not known a peaceful minute since. A little like giving your phone number to the wrong person, I suppose. But of course the ancients were on to something. When we know someone’s name we do have some sort of power over them. We can do things that we couldn’t otherwise do. How many times have each of us been in situations where we really didn’t want people to know who we are. We say something clumsy on an answering machine, say, and hang up without giving a name thinking, “Boy I hope they don’t have caller ID.” Sharing names opens up possibilities of intimacy and vulnerability. When Isaiah has God say “I have called you by name,” he is emphasizing the intimacy and knowledge that God has with us. For the ancients, naming is all caught up with identity, with knowing who we are. And therefore it is very much about power. And not just power over another; for any of us to be empowered we have to know who we are. But for us, we can experience the same kind of thing around roles or positions. To make it really personal, I have to know more than that my name is Spencer; for me to exercise my ministry effectively, with power, I have to know that I am called by ‘priest’. And I must accept this and own it. And the same is true for any other profession or relationship. For a woman to raise children effectively, with power, she must own the name ‘mother’. And so on and so on. A general rule is: to exercise power, effectiveness, we must know who we are. If we do not have a strong sense of identity, we will not be effective at anything. In the Gospel reading, we hear the story of Jesus being baptized by John. People often ask why Jesus had to be baptized. It seems strange to us because we think of baptism, not incorrectly, as being for the forgiveness of sins. But it is also about identity. Historically baptism, christening, has always been intimately tied up with naming and identity. And in Luke’s Gospel, this is made clear. As Jesus is baptized, he the Holy Spirit descends on him, and a voice is heard, “You are my beloved son; with you I am well pleased.” Jesus is baptized, I believe, because in the act of baptism his identity is revealed, certainly to those present at the time, and perhaps even to himself. He is named, and he takes ownership of this identity, and in doing so he is empowered for his ministry. And as in so many other things, we are to follow Jesus in this. On this occasion, our observance of his baptism, we renew our own baptismal covenants, and in doing this we revisit and we renew our own identity as his disciples and as children of God. And if we do not do this, we cannot exercise our ministries as Christians with power or effectiveness. If we do not embrace our baptisms, our baptismal covenant, our identity as Christians, then we are not empowered for ministry. I might be the same person if my name were Stephen, but I cannot be the same person if I am not called by the name ‘Christian’. None of us can be. That identity is far more crucial to who we are than the names our parents bestowed upon us. So as we ponder Jesus’ baptism and his ministry, let us prepare to renew our own baptismal vows. As you respond to my questions about what you believe and how you intend to act, I invite you to focus on these words and to be reminded that in saying them, you undertake to understand your own sense of identity as a Christian and that in taking on this identity you do so in order to be empowered for ministry. You follow Jesus in having been baptized, you follow Jesus in being empowered for ministry, and in accepting Jesus’ ministry as your own. You will do all these things—with God’s help. Fr. Spencer |
 |
||
|
