Text: Isaiah 43:1-7

We were on vacation last weekend, a quick five day trip to Puerto Rico. We needed the time to relax from the rush of the Christmas and find new energy to lead our congregation into the New Year.

The destination of our trip was dictated by our congregation, put in place last summer. Our high school youth group experienced a cross cultural mission trip and attended a summer camp with youth from Puerto Rico.  Our daughter Claire was on that trip and had formed strong friendships on the island. With the help of social media tools, she has stayed in touch. She lobbied for a return to Puerto Rico the day she came home. 

Claire got her wish and participated in a youth group activity with the Bayamon church in a Puerto Rican tradition. On New Year’s Day night, they serenade into the early hours of the morning. They knock on church members doors as late as 2:00 am. Then, they dance and have soup until four in the morning. As cool as it was for Claire, I don’t think this is something that would do well in our community. But Claire has a lifetime memory and there is a church in Bayamon that knows her name.

Knowing your name is important. I used to pride myself on knowing names but I’m not as good as I once was. There are several reasons. We are a larger church and there are more names to remember. We are a multi-site congregation. My commute between the two campuses doesn’t reinforce names like it did when I could greet you before and after worship.  I also know that my recall isn’t as quick as it was a decade ago. It is why I’m grateful when you wear nametags. It not only helps form community with each other, it helps an aging pastor. Someone without a nametag on came through the line on Christmas Eve. She said, “Do you remember me?” I hate those words. “Later, my assistant Lori was able to tell me who she was.  She was a woman who worshiped with us a few years ago for about six months, then moved away when she went through a divorce.  Since that time, she lost 100 pounds and changed her hair color. “No, I’m drawing a blank.” “You used to know my name. I’m Carol. I used to worship here.” she said. 

Ouch. That’s a good way to get to a pastor and I felt a momentary stab of guilt. But after I talked to Lori, I knew this. I knew her when her name meant something else. She was a married mother of three living in our community. That’s what her name meant to me. Now she was a divorcee living in another state. Her identity had changed and when your identity changes, your name changes.

What does your name mean? I don’t mean etymologically. You can go online and discover the origin and meaning of your name. You can buy coffee cups or key chains with some clever saying about your identity.   Randy means “shield of wolves” which means absolutely nothing to me unless the role of a pastor is to shield his congregation from the wolves in society.  I don’t think Randy means that to most of you. You wouldn’t say, “Our pastor is Randy and he’s a wolf shield.” That’s not how you’d describe me.

Some of you would say, “Randy is the preacher of Geist Christian Church.” You know me mostly as the upfront guy. Others of you might add, “Randy’s my pastor.” I’ve had prayer with you, visited with you about a problem, or been with you during illness. For some of you, I’m a chaplain too. I’ve married you or I’ve buried a loved one.  The longer we are together, the longer we know each other, the more our names means to you. The year I was born, Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein wrote the song, Getting to Know You, a romantic piece about a teacher and the King of Siam getting to know who each other is. Despite the lyrics of the song, it takes a lifetime to get to know you, to know what your name means.

Long before Wally and Helen Jean decided to name me Randy or Rodgers and Hammerstein wrote about getting to know you, a group of people sat down by the river Babylon and wept. They were caught in between, struggling with trying to understand exactly who they were. Their identity had changed because they had moved. Once an autonomous, self-governing people, Babylon had marched into Jerusalem, crushed them and left the city in ruins. Taken as prisoners of war back to Babylon, they believed things couldn’t get any worse-- and then they did.  A new power arose in the East, the nation of Persia and they were saber rattling, making noise about destroying Babylon. What would happen to them? Who would they be then? God only knows which is exactly what the prophet Isaiah reports to them in the forty-third chapter of Isaiah.

“But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.” (Isaiah 43: 1).  It’s just one sentence from God, reported by Isaiah, but it says it all. It doesn’t matter what the circumstances of your life, whether life is very good or very hard, God is present because God knows your name. This never changes. It’s a constant.

Isaiah helps us understands that God is not some distance deity, some impersonal force in the universe who could care less about what is happening. “God is more like a mother who listens in the night for the cries of her children, who wants to comfort us and tell us not to be afraid. The God who created us says, “Don’t be afraid; I’ve redeemed you. I have called you by name, you are mine.” It’s true.  Throughout scripture, we see that “the God of Israel, the God whose story is told in this scripture, always calls us by name: Adam, Eve, Abraham, Sarah, Moses, Samuel, Mary. This is the God we see in the face of Jesus Christ. The God who walks along the shore and calls by name: ‘Peter, Andrew, John, follow me.’”[1] When it comes to God, there is no need for nametags; God can call you by name. There is nothing more powerful than claiming this, owning it, making it part of your identity.

By another river seven hundred years later, a group of people experienced the same issues that you and I have. At times, God felt distant, remote. They wondered if God would ever connect with them again.  There were days when life was easy but there were also days when life was very hard because they were ruled by an oppressive, violent king. At the river, a man approaches his cousin. The man was Jesus and his cousin was John and “when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” (Luke 3: 22)

Have you ever seen the Cotton Patch Gospel? It was written by Clarence Jordan. He was the founder of the Koinonia Community in Americus, Georgia and helped launch Habitat for Humanity.  During the racial crisis of the 60’s, he translated the New Testament into a contemporary version called the Cotton Patch series. He tried to make it fit the times so instead of talking about Jews and Gentiles, he described these biblical groups as “white men and Negroes.” He thought we’d made crosses into shiny jewelry which had no real meaning. So he made the crucifixion a lynching. The Cotton Patch Gospel was made into a musical in 1981. It’s worth seeing. When it comes to Jesus’ baptism, to the verse of scripture I just read, the lead character playing God says “You are my boy, Jesus.  I am so proud of you!”

I believe that something happens like this when we are faithful. God sees us, acknowledges us and calls us by name. When you are baptized, God says, “Look there, she’s my girl. I’m proud of her.” When you act in love, God exclaims, “He’s my boy. Way to go!” When we witness to the truth of the gospel, God lights up and says, “Look at my kids. They bring me such pleasure.” Isaiah says it this way, “…you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you…” (Isaiah 43: 4).[2]

On one level we know this and acknowledge it when we are together. We sing about it in worship, talk about in prayers.  One of the first songs we learn is “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” You can’t be loved without your name being known.  But it is hard to remember this intimate relationship in a world of bad news and global challenges, of personal problems and day to day obstacles. We forget that we are so precious and honored in God’s sight that God promises to do even more than call us by name. God promises to be with us, sustaining us no matter what is going in our life.  “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.’ Isaiah 43:2) Isaiah says that when we pass through rough waters, God is with us and when the river rises, the tide won’t overwhelm us. When we face the fires, we won’t be burned because God listens for your voice, knows your cry, and says to each of us, ‘Do not be afraid. I know you. I have called you by name. You are mine.’  But just like acknowledging that God knows your name, you have to own and claim that God is with you whenever life is challenging.

Robert and Frances Belote did this. Last July, they had just finished a lunch of hot dogs and fresh butter beans when a man stormed into their home in Leesburg, Virginia. He came in through an unlocked back door, pointed a revolver at them and shouted, “Give me all your money!”Frances, 82, watched as the intruder tied up her 83-year-old husband. She told the Washington Post: “I said to myself, ‘This is the end,’” she recounted to the Washington Post. “But God was here. We felt his presence, and it gave us peace, and we were able to be calm.”

The Belotes spent nine hours as hostages, held in their bathroom by a man who planned to rob them and make off with their car. Throughout the ordeal, they feared for their lives but also began to bond with their assailant. “I sensed good feelings from him, that he could be a good person,” said Frances. “I was praying for him the whole time.”

Those prayers were answered. Police surrounded the house, and the intruder eventually surrendered. Police said part of the reason the standoff ended peacefully was that the Belotes established a rapport with their assailant. They made it clear they were “church people,” while reaching out to the robber as Christians.

At one point, Frances asked the intruder if he wanted something to eat and fixed him some cereal. He also drank an entire pitcher of iced tea. “I think he realized there was no way out of here,” said Robert. “We told him it would be best for everyone if he surrendered.” So he walked out the door and gave up.[3]

The Belotes believed that God created them and called them by name and they believed the same thing about their assailant. So they reached out to him, knowing that God promised to walk with them when they paced through the waters.  They remember what God said, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.” (Isaiah 43: 1).

I don’t know where you are in your life right now but I know this is the most important information that you can have. It is incredibly important because even if you are on top of the world right now, tomorrow is coming and there is the possibility of stormy weather. God knows your name. God’s claims you.  And while God doesn’t promise fair weather, God does promise to be with you as you face the storms and fires of life.

The well-known theologian Henri Nouwen once confessed that he was plagued many nights by a terrible dream. He dreamed that he was traveling in some distant city, and he ran into someone with whom he had gone to high school. In the bad dream, the person would say, "Henri, Henri, haven't seen you in years. What have you done with your life?" This question always felt like judgment. He'd done some good things in his life, but there had also been some troubles and struggles. And when the old schoolmate in the dream would say, "What have you done with your life?" he wouldn't know what to say, how to account for his life. Then one night he had another dream. He dreamed that he died and went to heaven. He was waiting outside the throne room of God, waiting to stand before almighty God, and he shivered with fear. He just knew that God would be surrounded with fire and smoke and would speak with a deep voice saying, "Henri, Henri, what have you done with your life?" But, then, in the dream, when the door to God's throne room opened, the room was filled with light. From the room he could hear God speaking to him in a gentle voice saying, "Henri, it's good to see you. I hear you had a rough trip, but I'd love to see your slides."[4]

Nouwen’s dream is what I hope you’ll claim today. When your journey ends and you are invited into the throne room, there will be no need for a nametag. God knows our name and has walked with you through every bump of the journey.

From the book of Isaiah, hear God’s words again. , “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.” (Isaiah 43: 1).

Own it; claim it. Live by it.