Battle Lines: Your Given Name

My oldest granddaughter has two cats with strong, masculine names: Brutus and Constantine. Love those names. The only problem is, she named them Spunk and Demetri. Somehow in my mind they became Brutus and Constantine. I wish this only happened with cats.

I was talking with one of my other granddaughters about one of her friends named Cara. After going on for a bit, she asked, “Who is Cara?” When I described her, she corrected me with the proper name, which then prompted me to find her parents and apologize for the many times I had called their daughter by the wrong name. Cara is a lovely name, but it’s not the one they chose for their daughter.

Then there were the employees: Erik, whose real name was Nick, Sonya, whose given name was Betty, and Russell, who I called Gordon. Just last week I called a co-worker Francina, a beautiful name but not hers. It’s not that I don’t like these folks’ names, but another one pops in my head and seems to take permanent residence. There is probably a term for my condition, but I would likely rename it.

The Bible has many instances when someone is renamed. Jacob became Israel. Simon became Peter. Saul became Paul. But these were intentional, so I can’t take any spiritual credit for what I do. But in each of these instances, the name change represented a change in their lives.

Jacob, the lying, scheming cheater, was given a name that meant “prince.” With that change, a whole nation had his name bestowed upon it.

Simon, whose name was the most common male name among Jews in the time of Jesus, had a name that meant “hearing,” or an alternative meaning of “flat nosed.” What mother would want that meaning for her child? Jesus renamed him “Peter,” meaning “rock.” It took a while for that rock to harden, but in time, with the shaping of the Holy Spirit, the name fit him perfectly.

The name of Saul in Hebrew meant “asked for,” which was a really nice thing for a child to hear as he grew up. But his name was changed to Paul, which was not Hebrew at all. Meant to signify his ministry to the Gentiles, he chose a Latin name that meant “humble, small.” This was a huge contrast to the man he had been before his conversion but entirely fitting after Christ entered his life.

In many cultures where people are named after other gods, upon conversion or at their baptism they receive a Christian name. So, you might meet someone born in India who has a name like David or a Chinese person who goes by Mary to show they now follow Christ—not their name at birth but a name later given to them.

Our parents most likely blessed us with our names. Our sweethearts may have given us a pet name known only to the two of us. But there is a name promised that even the ones who love us most dearly and cherish us above all else do not know. We are promised a name from our Lord Himself, “’To the one who conquers I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone. On the white stone is written a new name that no one knows except the person who receives it’” (Revelation 2:17).

That name will suit us exactly. We will know it is ours when we hear it—our divinely given name. Given by the One who knows us more than any other and loves us more than any can.