Back in the summer of 1975, I joined a group of college students on a mission trip to East Brunswick, New Jersey, where we held Vacation Bible School for local children. Eight of us spent the entire summer living in the preacher’s home, where the garage doubled as the church auditorium.
Close to the end of our stay, the team leader gave us a surprise exercise during one of our group devotionals. He wanted us to make lists of all the good qualities we perceived in each team member’s character or what we saw as God-given strengths and gifts in each other.
Over the years, I have processed that experience, and I have never forgotten the impact it made on me. I don’t remember the comments I made about the other members of the team or even the comments made about me. However, I do remember fearing that when the group leader called my name, there would be dead silence from the others. I was horrified that everyone would surreptitiously glance around, praying someone would conjure a positive character trait to pin on me, or that, in trying to be benevolent, they would utilize trite, obviously impossible attributes, such as “I fully believe you will be president of the United States one day” or “I will be shocked if you don’t win hundreds of Academy Awards in your lifetime.” Then everyone else would nod a little too briskly and affirm a little too loudly the fake sentiment behind the statement. Or, unable to find any good qualities, they would take the opportunity to point out all my idiosyncrasies and character defects and give me pointers on how I might fare better the next time I was a participant in a similar exercise.
But none of that happened. As I look back, I remember every person’s expression as we went around the room and validated and verbally appreciated one another. I remember expressions on people’s faces. Most of them, I’m sure, reflected the same fears and apprehension I’d experienced just before my name was called.
As the exercise continued, a completely different spirit filled the space. Tears fell from every eye as humble holiness enveloped that small living room. Every person there received a cherished gift, as though we were pinning a value tag on each heart that read, “Priceless.”
James 3:17–18 (MSG) says,
Real wisdom, God’s wisdom, begins with a holy life and is characterized by getting along with others. It is gentle and reasonable, overflowing with mercy and blessings, not hot one day and cold the next, not two-faced. You can develop a healthy, robust community that lives right with God and enjoy its results only if you do the hard work of getting along with each other, treating each other with dignity and honor.
It wasn’t uncommon for God to be a name-caller. He changed Saul’s name to Paul, which means “Humble.” Peter, of course, became the “Stone” on which the Lord built his church. Moses means “Drew out.”
One of my favorite characters experienced a name change from Mirab-Baal to Mephibosheth, which means “Exterminator of shame.” The name Eunice, which belonged to Timothy’s mother in the Bible and to my own mother, means “Good victory.” Obviously, what these people were called, even their given names, represented something. The name often described to outsiders what the person’s character was like or was at least meant to be when he or she was first named by his or her parents. Names helped define people for those just meeting them. Often, their names changed later on to fit their new identities.
One day we will all be given new names. Revelation 2:17 (MSG) says, “Are your ears awake? Listen. Listen to the Wind Words, the Spirit blowing through the churches. I’ll give the sacred manna to every conqueror; I’ll also give a clear, smooth stone inscribed with your new name, your secret new name.”
I remember names I was called when I was growing up that weren’t particularly good. In fact, I remember more of those names than the ones I should have been called. But even back then, there was a stone already hewn, hidden in the heart of God, inscribed with my real name, the name he has specially designed for me. And it describes me perfectly. One day, when I see it, when he hands it to me, I will finally realize all he planned for me to do and be, and I will exclaim, “Of course that was my name!”
It wasn’t a typo in James 3 when he instructed early Christians to do the hard work of getting along. It isn’t easy all the time to find the best in another fallen, sinful human being. But amazingly, it’s there, and we are called to honor each other with the dignity only we can give.
I remember the honor I felt that night in 1975, not only in receiving words of affirmation from my friends, people I respected, but also in the tears that fell as my heart swelled with the knowledge that I was speaking streams of life into other tender hearts.
There was a distinct reverence in the confidence that some, like me, were hearing, maybe for the first time. Those friends were valued for their gifts. What they offered was crucial and far-reaching for the kingdom of God. They were essential. It was just as much a gift for the giver of the consequential words as it was for the recipient.
I have been involved in many step-studies with Celebrate Recovery over the past couple of decades. Two exercises in the participant guide always amaze me. They amaze me because, to a study, the results are almost exactly the same. One exercise says, “Name some of the negative things you’ve done in your life.” The other says, “Name some of the positive things you’ve done in your life.” It’s no longer surprising to me that the answers to the first could fill a book—every participant’s response. On the other hand, for the second exercise about positive things, the responses are surprisingly short. Some participants even leave the space blank.
What are we listening to about ourselves? Do we hear the names we heard as children so often that we believe them to be true? Do we still call ourselves those names today? Do we hear the name Failure, Worthless, Ugly, or Stupid in our hearts when we turn out the lights to sleep? Do we run through all the wrong, embarrassing, irresponsible things we did that day? Is our life inventory filled with only the negative things we did in the last twenty-four hours? Do we dwell on the names we were called, even the ones we gave ourselves?
If we are honest, do we truly believe those names are the ones the Creator of the universe, the One who uniquely made us, wants us to hear and believe?
Or do we hear the names God has given us? I think we all intellectually know that real truth is found only in God’s Word. I defy anyone to show me a verse in which God says we are a mistake. So why is it so easy to believe the negative things about ourselves, the things our culture believes are so important, over the truth revealed to us from the very heart of God?
I’m guessing it’s because we are so inundated with what’s expected of us. We have allowed media and what we’re taught is valuable by the world to extinguish the truth—so much so that we begin to believe the lie of the Enemy that we have no value.
I choose to begin my day with his truth about me. The truth that says I am fearfully and wonderfully made. That I am his treasured possession. That I am the apple of his eye.
He has called us names all right! Chosen. Blessed sons and daughters. Saint. His. Heirs. Not condemned but accepted. Victorious. A new creature. Set free. Redeemed and forgiven and given access to the very throne room of God. We are light in the Lord. We are citizens of heaven. We are complete in Christ, hidden with Christ in God. We will be revealed with him in glory. He has supplied all our needs. We have been chosen by God, and he has made us holy and beloved.
We’re usually called something after we’ve lived out a dream or accomplished something big. But God calls us before we do it, just as he did with men and women of the Bible. The world might see us as creative or smart or annoying. But God sees us as world changers, radical leaders, and peacemakers.
Listen carefully. Tonight, as you go through the events of your day, take responsibility for what you need to take responsibility for, and let go of things you were not responsible for. As you begin to drift to sleep, if you hear any voice other than You are mine, and you are breathtaking, you aren’t listening to Jesus and what he says about you. You’re not listening to the One who holds together all of creation and is intimately interested in the next breath you take. The Lord may give you a name himself. In fact, I know he has. But he may also ask you to be the life-giver of a name for someone else. It’s hard work. But it just might change the course of someone else’s life, including your own.
