What's in a Name?

Early this morning, for some strange reason, the theme song from the 1980s/ early 90s TV show “Cheers” was going through my head. This was totally out of left field, because I haven’t seen or heard this song or watched this show in many years. I googled the lyrics to the song, and just thought, for those of you who don’t remember, or who have never heard it, here they are:

“Where Everybody Knows Your Name”

Written by Gary Portnoy & Judy Hart Angelo

Making your way in the world today takes everything you’ve got
Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot

Wouldn’t you like to get away?

Sometimes you want to go
where everybody knows your name,
and they’re always glad you came

You wanna be where you can see
our troubles are all the same
You wanna be where everybody knows
your name

You wanna go where people know
people are all the same
You wanna go where everybody knows
your name

The setting of the show is a fictional local bar in Boston and the characters are regulars who come to drink, and talk about their lives. Through the years, this group of characters, who are very different from one another, and whose lives would normally not intersect, become like family.

Now, I attended and graduated from a Christian college, so I can spiritualize things like the best of ‘em, but before you sneer and snicker, hear me out. Though our family enjoyed watching this show and laughed at all the ridiculous things that happened as these misfits interacted, the lyrics of the theme song have taken on a much deeper meaning for me, now that I’m older.

I’ve lived in West Africa for nearly 23 years (next month) and each place we’ve lived, I’ve studied a new language and culture, and taken a new name, as I learned to live among the people. Where I’ve lived for the past 13 years, most people don’t know the name my parents gave me or the family name I took when I married my husband. They know me by the name I was given by a local friend’s mom the first year we lived here. Even if they did know my name, they can’t pronounce it, so prefer the local name I’ve been given.

A couple of weeks ago, we were at a conference and in meetings with colleagues from throughout the continent. In those meetings, I was called by the name my parents gave me. Someone asked me if I preferred the shortened form or the longer one and I told them whatever they wanted to call me was fine. Then, I thought, how strange it felt to even be called the name I’ve had since I was born. We live where there are no other Americans,  so I get called that name very seldom. It actually felt awkward to answer to my own name.

Each of our kids have names that have significance. Their names are reminders of what God was doing at the time of our lives that they were born, after people that mean a lot to us, and with thankfulness that God worked or provided in surprising ways. We didn’t just pick a name out of the air, because our children were (and are) precious blessings that deserved to be named as such.

There’s a fairly obscure verse in the book of Revelation (2:17) that talks about a name being written on a white stone. There are several verses, also, about the names of those who believe in and follow Jesus being written in His Book of Life. Don’t you wonder what name His powerful hand wrote down with you in mind?

I love Psalm 139 and how it talks about how He created and knew us even before we were formed… He knew every day of our lives. Before my parents knew who I was, God knew me. Did He already have a name picked out for me… all ready for that day He knew I would follow Him so that He could write it in His Book?

No matter where I am in this world, whether here in Africa or in the US, I always have a sense of feeling somewhat awkward… even among my colleagues who have similar life experiences. In every place, they call me by a name, but my identity is not in the names I’ve been given in Africa or the name written on my passport; my identity is in the One who created me, then redeemed me, and wrote a name He chose for me in His Book of Life.

One day, I’ll walk the streets of Heaven and the awkwardness will be gone. They will be lit by His light and all who walk those streets will have the prestige of bearing the great Name of our loving Savior. We may have been rich or poor, have been a king or a beggar, but the life we lived is wiped away. All that will remain is the new life we received in Christ. And, though we will all bear the new names He’s given us, the Name that will be held with the greatest esteem and receive the highest praise, will be our Lord Jesus Christ.