Your Name

Names are funny things. My parents named me Rodney Lee Rhodus. Rodney came from my mother's readings in popular culture, and alliteration is always a popular choice in the South. Lee was my grandfather's name. Rhodus is, of course, the automatic surname. It seems to be a variant of Rhodes, probably, and it is not a very common name. My mother once filled out a mailing label for something she was ordering; the package arrived with the last name corrected from Rhodus to Rhodes. For some reason, we all took offense at this. We grow to have preternatural connections with our names. We are protective, possessive of names. We care about our names.

Names are important, as several writers have registered in their works. Ursula K. LeGuin, in A Wizard of Earthsea, has characters who have three names: a birth name, a common name used by the general community, and a secret true name, which allows anyone with knowledge of it power over the named. T. S. Eliot, in Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats (which, for better or worse, spawned the musical Cats), states that cats have three names: an everyday name, a special name, and a name known only to the cat itself. That both authors identify three names is probably not mere coincidence. I shall not suggest that either writer was directly alluding to the Trinity, but three is a pretty special number.

Many of us, in the world outside of literature, have a variety of names. My family calls me Rod. I introduce myself as Rodney. I usually prefer Rodney, but when my family uses Rod, it sounds right. When others use Rod, it sounds foreign. My wife picked up calling me Rod from being around my family, which is a natural thing to have happen. People my wife works with--and since we work in the same building, whom I also work with--picked up using Rod from her. It is odd, but hearing Rod from some colleagues sounds natural; from others, it sounds wrong. I have not analyzed the differences, but maybe I should.

All of this to point out that names are important. The name of God is important, yet we usually give it little or no thought. God has a multitude of names, which seems appropriate for a being who has so many facets. A Sunday School class at my church has put up a poster which lists the names of God which appear in the Bible. There are many. Most of us probably use a select few names for God--or maybe that's just me. Most of us rarely use the name of God--Yahweh--outside of academic discussions of the text. We prefer God, Lord, Father--names that we can relate with. And perhaps that is the importance of the name of God: we must choose a name that means something to us.

What we call God says more about us than about God. The name we use to refer to God reveals our attitude toward God and our relationship with God. As I mentioned earlier, my pastor sometimes says Daddy when referring to God, a term which--for people who grew up in Kentucky, at least--carries the connotation of much more intimacy and affection than the word Father. Father, for me, seems distant, both in space and in emotion. Some might argue that Father carries the proper degree of respect, and I would not argue with anyone who suggested that. Actually, I would not argue with anyone about any name chosen to address God; the name must be personal and must have significance. We must each choose the name--or names--we will use, but the name must be true--for us.

Just as LeGuin's wizards and Eliot's cats have special names, names of power, which are spoken only by those who have intimate knowledge of the name's bearer, so God has special names which are wired into each of us. Just as my family and friends may call me Rod and I respond, while a sales clerk or a telemarketer cannot get away with it, God allows us to call Him by the names that mean something to each of us. Using God, Lord, or Father is fine, so long as we are aware of the implications of each name. We should not call upon God as Abba if our only association with that word is "Dancing Queen."

The name of God we use must be a name which holds meaning for us. We should not force a name that we have no connection with. If we cannot say Daddy without being self-conscious, then we should use another name. My wife and I had our kids after we were well into our thirties--not by choice, but that is another story. Our kids are now in school with children of our former students. We all show up at the same school functions and at the same birthday parties, and I have told some of my former students that they can call me Rodney; however, most of them hold onto calling me Mr. Rhodus. For whatever reason, I am and will ever be Mr. Rhodus, and I understand that. In a similar way, God, for some people, is and will ever be Father or Lord or God. And that is okay, as long as we are aware of why we call upon him with that particular word. We have to think about the name. We have to be conscious about our choices.

I think that is the importance of the name of God we choose: we have to use the name on purpose. We cannot allow ourselves to fall into routine, especially in this area of our lives. Prayer must be intentional. Our relationship with God must be intentional. We have to be aware, even of the names we use. Otherwise, we are not putting all of our mind and all of our heart and all of our soul into the moment.