Name Tag
In 2019, I remember meeting a friend for lunch while I lived in Washington. I remember this for two reasons. First, it was 7 degrees and that was my first experience with that kind of cold. I can still feel that chill cut through my jacket on the brief walk from my car to our lunch spot. Second, during lunch I remember the Holy Spirit interrupting our conversation and putting a question in my heart to ask my brother. I felt prompted to ask, “If you were wearing one of those “Hello, My Name is…” name tags, what would be written on it?” I can still feel the holy pause that question created in our conversation.
What started with a brief question turned into a glorious moment of exchanging lies for truth and both of our lives changed for the better. We both openly spoke about the various names that were rooted in shame, negative experiences, and lies that we believed about ourselves, and then took time to replace those false names with the ones the Lord had spoken through His Word, through His work, and through His Spirit.
As much as this story is beautiful and reminds me of the goodness of God, this is a daily battle. The voices of so many people, experiences, enemies, and distractions try to sneak in and scribble something on my name tag. It’s far too easy to allow these things to be what define me, what dictate my actions, and what direct my thought life. And I know this is something that is true for so many others. In fact, if I were to ask you what is written on your name tag, what would you say?
The bad news is that these names are continually thrown at us and we feel the weight of their deceptive invitations. The burden, in some ways, feels easier to wear on our name tags, but it ends up being the most cumbersome aspect of our lives and deters us from the full life we are given in Christ.
The Good News is that there is a better word, a greater name, and an identity anchored in the freedom, truth, grace, and love of our Savior. These declarations are the final word and the ultimate truth about who we are and to Whom we belong. The beauty of the Voice of our King is that His Word creates, redeems, sustains, and is completely faithful and true. He is not one to make false claims or go back on what He says. His Word is good and His Word does not weigh us down, but it builds us up and holistically propels us forward.
We know this to be true because we not only experience this but when we look to God’s Word we see this reality. The Lord is consistently naming people in the story of God with meaningful names, calling them into locations with significant titles, and proclaiming prophetic messages that point to fulfillment in Christ Jesus. In the New Testament, there are multiple accounts in which Jesus interacts with people and proclaims a name to them that is different from the surrounding voices.
In Mark 5, Jesus encounters a woman who has been suffering from illness for 12+ years. She is unclean according to the Law, she is an outcast according to society, and she is more than likely overlooked and rejected because she had spent all of her money on seeking healing, with no success. In this story, she reaches out to touch the hem of Jesus’ garment and Jesus interacts with her because He feels power leave Him. When He sees her, He says, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering (Mk. 5:34).” He could have called her any of the names, accusations, or assumptions from the religious groups or the culture, but instead He prophesies her name: daughter.
In Matthew 26, Jesus is being handed over by Judas to the religious leaders to be put on trial. Judas is known as a thief (stealing from the disciples’ money belt), a betrayer, and a sinner because of his actions. Yet, again, when Jesus encounters Judas in the midst of being betrayed, He doesn’t speak like others, He proclaims a true identity. When Judas comes to Jesus with a kiss of betrayal, Jesus responds by saying, “Do what you came for, friend (Mt. 26:50).” That’s right, He called Judas His friend.
There are a number of other times these encounters happen, but what we see is the pattern of Jesus’ ministry: when the world, the enemy, and the religious elite speak one name, He speaks a true name. And this is because this was the foundation of His ministry. Before Jesus launches His public ministry, He is baptized by John in the Jordan River. During His baptism, the heavens open, the Spirit descends in the form of a dove, and a voice from heaven declares, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased (Mt. 3:17).”
Right after this incredible open heaven moment, Jesus is led by the Spirit into the wilderness where He fasts for 40 days and nights and is tempted by the enemy. It is during these temptations that the devil tries to make Jesus question His identity as God’s Son. In these attacks, the devil says, “If you are the Son of God…” The last thing Jesus heard was the voice of His Father saying, “This is My Son.” His name tag was clear: God’s Son. It’s of no surprise that the enemy tries to attack that exact name and bring forth temptations for Jesus to find His identity and name in other things like power, pride, and prestige. The enemy attacks Jesus’ body, mind, and heart, but He is secure in His identity as God’s Son and reveals to us a model of standing firm on God’s Word and God’s Work.
This is why Jesus is able to not only respond in the midst of temptation and attack from a position of security, but why He is able to proclaim the truth over others as well. For us, we face temptation, attack, and the constant bombardment of other voices trying to convince of false names and identities all day. In fact, Henri Nouwen wrote about 5 lies that many of us believe about ourselves. He says they are the statements, “I am what I have. I am what I do. I am what other people say or think about me. I am nothing more than my worst moment. I am nothing less than my best moment.”
For far too many, these are the name tag statements we have. Our names are poor, rich, productive, inadequate, beautiful, ugly, a failure or the last accomplishment I earned. In all of these things, we find ourselves exhausted by the vicious cycle of not only bearing the pain of the name but feeling the exhaustion of trying to keep up with the appearance or re-experiencing the trauma from which it came. As painful as this, Jesus takes this pain upon Himself for us to have a new name and a new life in Him. Henri continued his thought and wrote, “We are not what we do, we are not what we have, we are not what others think of us. Coming home is claiming the truth. I am the beloved child of a loving creator.”
And here’s why all of this matters: there’s far too much at stake for us to not wear our true name tag. Not only do we end up believing lies about ourselves and act accordingly, but we miss out on the glorious invitation to welcome others into the truth of who God has made them to be and the beauty of their unique purpose in His Kingdom.
As we come to the close of February, I reflect on Black History month and remember the many stories of brothers and sisters of color who have continued to wear the name tag Christ Jesus gave to them in the midst of the insidious racial slurs and divisive attacks lodged against them.
One such brother was a man by the name of Daniel Alexander Payne. He was a Bishop in the African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church and he sought for African Americans to be equipped, trained, and empowered to preach the Gospel and to see the society shift from the dark tides of racism and slavery to the promised life of freedom and abundance in Christ. In the 1870s, late in his life, he was traveling south to train and equip pastors for ministry. When he boarded the train there were no seats left in the designated car for African Americans, so he sat in the car for the whites. The train conductor came by and asked him to move to the car designated for African Americans due to Jim Crow laws. Bishop Payne’s response was, “Before I’ll dishonor my manhood by going into that car, stop your train and put me off.” The conductor told him that he could get off the train and get on the platform at the back of the car. Instead, Bishop Payne carried his own luggage and walked a great distance through sand and dirt to get to his next speaking engagement in the deep south.
Bishop Payne spent his life pursuing the work of the Lord. He could have listened to the culture and society throughout all of his life, but instead he committed to wearing the name tag the Lord gave him. He showed this by traveling to the south to continue the work of the Gospel and at any point in this story, he could have placed the name tags from those around him on his chest. He could have walked with “lesser than”, “not welcome”, “slave”, or any other derogatory term, but instead he stood his ground and lived in what God had promised and called him to do.
There was too much at stake to not wear his true name tag not only for his personal destiny and those to which he was going to train and equip to continue the work of the Gospel, but also for the generational impact of those after him. This moment was so resounding that the African Methodist Episcopal churches shared this story for many years as they continued to long for true liberation from slavery and the systemic oppression of racism. The impact was this: one such worshiper who was raised in the AME church heard this story and was impacted so deeply that she felt empowered to stand her ground and wear her true name tag in the midst of adversity. Her name was Rosa Parks.
I write all of this to say, “What’s on your name tag?” I wonder if today can be the day for a holy exchange. I wonder if today could be the day that everything shifts and your true name tag leads to testimonies of freedom that mark movements and impact generations. I wonder if today could be the day that the firm foundation of God’s truth becomes what you bear so that no matter what attack, temptation, or distraction comes you know who you are and to Whom you belong. I wonder if today could be the day that you shed yourself of the weight of the painful names and recognize that there’s far too much at stake to not wear your true name tag.
Let today be the day, beloved. I look forward to a time when we all bear our true name and we all enjoy the freedom of God’s declaration. It is to that day, that liberty, and that hope that I write. Amen.
