Names
One of the thing I love about mythology and most religions is their emphasis on names. A name, in many mythological tales, tells you all you need to know about someone. Additionally, in many myths, everyone has two names: One for everyday use and one for secret power. Anyone who knows a being's true name has power over that being.
I have always had more names than I needed. When I was small, my surname held everyone's key to understanding me. "Oh, you're so and so's granddaughter? You're who's daughter then? Oh, well, how are they all doing?" Instantly, I had friends I'd never remembered meeting before. The trouble with going somewhere where "everybody knows your name" is that then everybody "knows" everything about you. Not only do they know everything about you, but they discuss it with everyone around until they're dead (not until you're dead--your legacy can hang around for much longer than that). For instance, I once heard my grandparents discussing someone who lived down the road from them who'd gotten extra sugar rations during the war in disgusted voices, finishing with, "And I tell you what; it stuck with 'em!" The whole community still buzzed with someone's misdeeds from over forty years ago, which is, I guess, what happens when the biggest news you've got is whose chickens lay the best eggs. This is the type of world that I grew up in. A surname was a thing that you carried, for better or worse, with you for your whole life and beyond, and let me tell you what, you've never carried anything until you've carried a name through a small town. You don't even know what weight is.
Aside from my surname, I had a given name that was used when I was meeting people and a nickname that all my family and everyone I knew actually used. As a small child, I had other nicknames as well. My sisters had a nickname for me, my mom had a pet name for me, my dad had one for me, an older couple at our church had one for me. Everybody called me something different. I did not really begin using my given name until I went to school. As I got older, I also had a series of school nicknames. When I got to college, I chose to go by the name that one of my best friends had given me, and it stuck.
So now, I have a professional name, which gives me a formal attitude; a family nickname, which makes me feel like a goofy child; a college/friend nickname, which makes me feel like a bad ass; and a secret name that I gave myself that no one knows but me. It sounds crazy, I know, but one day, I decided to test the myths and see why so many stories thought that a secret name gives power. And I found out that it's because a secret name does make you feel powerful. My secret name has no county, no allegiances, no responsibilities. It would not be recognized in my hometown. No one has turned it over on their tongues and attached meanings to it that I don't want and didn't ask for. It is the me that no one knows because no one can ever fully know another human being. I grasp it when I have trouble remembering who I am without everybody else. I hang onto it when I am in need of calm.
How does this relate to my faith? Well, it makes Revelation 2:16-18 a great comfort to me: "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To him who overcomes, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it" (NIV). If this is true, then it means that someday, we will get a name that only God has turned over in his mind. We will recieve the identities we were always meant to have.
It's just a small verse tucked away in Revelation where even most concordances ignore it, but to me, it means more than all the promises about a new body or a new attitude or even a new Jerusalem. What good are those things to me if I have to drag around the identity that everyone attached to me here on earth? No, to have a new identity, one that God has given me rather than one other people me or that I have given myself. This is the greatest comfort I can imagine. Someday, I will be loved for what I truely am, not for my reputation. A new name. A new identity--A hope--A future. What a blessing that will be.
I have always had more names than I needed. When I was small, my surname held everyone's key to understanding me. "Oh, you're so and so's granddaughter? You're who's daughter then? Oh, well, how are they all doing?" Instantly, I had friends I'd never remembered meeting before. The trouble with going somewhere where "everybody knows your name" is that then everybody "knows" everything about you. Not only do they know everything about you, but they discuss it with everyone around until they're dead (not until you're dead--your legacy can hang around for much longer than that). For instance, I once heard my grandparents discussing someone who lived down the road from them who'd gotten extra sugar rations during the war in disgusted voices, finishing with, "And I tell you what; it stuck with 'em!" The whole community still buzzed with someone's misdeeds from over forty years ago, which is, I guess, what happens when the biggest news you've got is whose chickens lay the best eggs. This is the type of world that I grew up in. A surname was a thing that you carried, for better or worse, with you for your whole life and beyond, and let me tell you what, you've never carried anything until you've carried a name through a small town. You don't even know what weight is.
Aside from my surname, I had a given name that was used when I was meeting people and a nickname that all my family and everyone I knew actually used. As a small child, I had other nicknames as well. My sisters had a nickname for me, my mom had a pet name for me, my dad had one for me, an older couple at our church had one for me. Everybody called me something different. I did not really begin using my given name until I went to school. As I got older, I also had a series of school nicknames. When I got to college, I chose to go by the name that one of my best friends had given me, and it stuck.
So now, I have a professional name, which gives me a formal attitude; a family nickname, which makes me feel like a goofy child; a college/friend nickname, which makes me feel like a bad ass; and a secret name that I gave myself that no one knows but me. It sounds crazy, I know, but one day, I decided to test the myths and see why so many stories thought that a secret name gives power. And I found out that it's because a secret name does make you feel powerful. My secret name has no county, no allegiances, no responsibilities. It would not be recognized in my hometown. No one has turned it over on their tongues and attached meanings to it that I don't want and didn't ask for. It is the me that no one knows because no one can ever fully know another human being. I grasp it when I have trouble remembering who I am without everybody else. I hang onto it when I am in need of calm.
How does this relate to my faith? Well, it makes Revelation 2:16-18 a great comfort to me: "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To him who overcomes, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it" (NIV). If this is true, then it means that someday, we will get a name that only God has turned over in his mind. We will recieve the identities we were always meant to have.
It's just a small verse tucked away in Revelation where even most concordances ignore it, but to me, it means more than all the promises about a new body or a new attitude or even a new Jerusalem. What good are those things to me if I have to drag around the identity that everyone attached to me here on earth? No, to have a new identity, one that God has given me rather than one other people me or that I have given myself. This is the greatest comfort I can imagine. Someday, I will be loved for what I truely am, not for my reputation. A new name. A new identity--A hope--A future. What a blessing that will be.
posted by GetMeThrough at
11:36 AM
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