When I was young, I used to daydream about what I would name my future children. I loved the name Alexander, especially shortened to Xander. I wanted a feminine name for a daughter, perhaps Emma or Alina. These days, despite my lack of children, I still feel compelled to name things, which is how I’ve come to live with Jed, my cactus. Clearly, people name things (mostly their children) for reasons other than just having something to shout when they want their attention. Naming a child (or a plant) makes a claim upon them. It becomes a part of their identity and establishes them as part of the family. Long ago, a person’s last name was often a description of their job – we see that in names like Miller or Smith. Stepping even further back, we can see God himself naming and renaming individuals. Abraham means or sounds like “father of many,” Jacob wrestled with God and became Israel, “he strives with God,” and Simon became Peter, the “rock” of God’s Church.

Names have weight. The fact the God has his own is an excellent reason to wander with me into the Sinai desert to stand with Moses before the one-and-only burning bush.

Moses certainly felt the amount of fear appropriate for when God calls to you from a miraculous flame in the middle of nowhere. Still, it’s always struck me as presumptuous that Moses asks God his name. Jacob, Israel himself, made the same request and received only a dislocated hip. And yet God, in great love and grace, came down to earth and revealed to a homeless shepherd The Name Above All Names, thus binding himself to fledgling Israel. When God gave Moses his name, he was giving Israel and the world the ability to call on him with absolute specificity. Men have made – and named – gods for themselves since almost the beginning of time, and countless people have been called “lord.” In the middle of the desert, at the foot of Mt. Sinai, God verbally distinguished himself from all manmade idols and kings. Upon giving Moses his name, God put his signature on the Abrahamic covenant, becoming forever Yahweh, God of Israel.

But God gave more than a collection of sounds to Moses that day. His name, written in the Hebrew Scriptures as YHWH, presumably sounds like the Hebrew I AM, and so resounds with meaning. God IS self-defined. God IS self-determining. God IS present, always. He is what he decides to be because there is no being or thing that came before him. He named himself. God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – is the only non-created being and so nothing defines or influences his character except him. Just as that fire in the wilderness, God needs no fuel. Since the name of Yahweh embodies God’s character, it holds great power. Throughout history you will find people doing things in or for the sake of the Lord’s name. It is no wonder that the third commandment forbids taking the Lord’s name in vain.

I think that these days, commandment number three is easily brushed off by Christians. As long as we never use “God” or “Jesus” in place of or in addition to a swear word, we’re good, right? I think it’s worth taking a step back to consider just what the name of God means to you. As I said earlier, names are closely linked to identity and relationships. Thanks to Jesus’ sacrifice, the Father has welcomed me into his family, naming me a child of God. I pray to the Father in the name of the Son with the guidance of the Spirit. My entire life is now tied to the Lord. My identity flows from the Lord Jesus and so I live my daily life in the name of the One God. Because of this, I believe that I take God’s name in vain every time I act contrary to his will. What a marvelous and awesome responsibility it is to call oneself a Christian.

What’s in a name? Identity, power, and a hand extended to welcome me into a relationship. God came to us – in the garden, in the wilderness, and in first century Bethlehem. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God who was, is, and ever will be sent his only Son to die. It is that Son whose voice I heard calling, “Rebecca, Rebecca!” while I wandered through my own dark wilderness. God sought me in that darkness and eventually my heart turned and whispered, Here I am. It is because of Jesus, bearer of the divine name, that at his call, I no longer need to stand back with the barefoot Moses. The purifying fire of the Lord God himself burns within me. I have the privilege to kneel before the Lord on holy ground because I, as family, bear his name.