Exodus 3:1-15; September 3, 2023; 14th Sunday after Pentecost
Let’s play a game: how common was Jesus’ name in first century Galilee? Anyone want to wager a guess on how many Jesus’s were walking around? 1? 2? 10? 30? …31?
The answer, at least at this time in the archeological-historical record, is no less than 30, and upwards of 71. Though likely, even more than that. A lot of Jesus’s.
Now, of course, it should be said here at the onset that Jesus’ first name was not in fact Jesus. For such a transliteration was not common in his geography and time. Instead, we get the name “Jesus” from the Greek translation Iēsous, which comes from the Hebrew name (remember, Jesus was Jewish), Yeshua.
Yeshua. Jesus son of Joseph, or more precisely, Yeshua ben Yosef. So as awkward as it is to think, no one among the disciples who travelled in his inner circle, ever actually called him Jesus. Instead, they called him their friend, their messiah, Yeshua. Yeshua.
And the name Yeshua means something to effect of “Yahweh is Salvation.” Or, God is salvation. Which is not only pretty rad, and poetically cool, but also theologically sound. For, God is salvation.
So, getting back to our guessing game then, the name Yeshua has been found, at least at this present moment, on 30 ancient burial boxes from the time and geography of Jesus, and upwards of 71 if you are looking at other smaller inscriptions. Suffice it to say then, Yeshua was an extraordinarily common name. Though as we all know, he himself was anything but common, and so much more than just the letters which formed his name. Jesus was, after all, the Living Word. The Son of Man. The Son of God. Our Savior who brings us back to God and who offers us salvation therein.
So don’t let the translational discrepancies fool you, my friends. There is much more meaning and purpose behind his name, Jesus, and, behind God’s name too. And, even, behind ours, as well.
But before we jump into that, let me just pass along another interesting tidbit for us to stuff into our collective memory boxes. “Peter” was not his name either. Yes, Jesus’ favorite disciple, perhaps, was in fact named Simon. And Simon was as common as Yeshua, if not more so. After all, there was even more than one Simon in the original 12 apostles! “Peter” then was a nickname, given to him by Yeshua/Jesus, which in the Greek came from the word which meant “rock.” Rock. Remember, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church…Matthew 16:18.
Simon/Peter. Yeshua/Jesus. There’s more to them, and to us, than just a name.
Moses said to God, ‘If I come to the Israelites and say to them, “The God of your ancestors has sent me to you”, and they ask me, “What is his name?” what shall I say to them?’ God said to Moses, ‘I AM WHO I AM.’ … This is my name for ever, and this my title for all generations. (Exodus 3:13-14a, 15b)
I am who I am. And as wonderful and definitive as that is, it’s probably not the most accurate translation we have for God’s name. The Hebrew here אֶהְיֶה אֲשֶׁר אֶהְיֶה is written in the imperfect aspect, which is typically conveyed in the future tense. So, linguistically, the phrase I AM WHO I AM, is more exactly translated as I WILL BE WHO I WILL BE. Some scholars go even further to suggest it can be read as: I WILL CREATE WHAT I WILL CREATE, or even, I WILL BECOME WHAT I CHOOSE TO BECOME. I will become what I choose to become!
To me, this is not only wildly more interesting, but also, more theologically sound. For God is indeed bigger than any name or any tense, and thus, can’t be boxed in by three, four, or five human letters. God can’t be restrained by the regulations of language nor by the limits of mortal doctrine and remembrance. For as the great reformer Karl Barth once argued, God is always bigger, for God is always “wholly other.”
Moreover, as evidenced throughout scripture, God can change God’s mind, and can evolve with the times. We see this happen after the Flood, during the age of Prophets, and though Paul’s letters about a gospel that now extends well beyond the fences of what it once was (as we learned last week). For God is not now, nor ever, bound by human constructs, barriers, or time; but God is beyond all of them completely. Always able to expand, and always able to become whatever God wants to become, onward and forever, for all generations into eternity.
God then, my friends, is always more than a name. More than a static declaration. More than a past or present descriptor. And that, mercifully, gives us liberty as God’s creation to also become what we will become. To be whomever we will choose, and whatever we will create; such that we too can exist beyond our names and all that has grown attached to them in the past or present.
For instance, perhaps your name has become best known for the crimes you have committed against someone else in your life, say a loved one or friend. Such as, you’re now known as like, Tom the adulterer. Or, perhaps your name has been associated with the wrongs you elicited against a child or grandchild, in the ways you loved them or in the ways you didn’t. Such as you’re now known as Fay the absent. Or, perhaps your name has become synonymous with the crowd you ran around with, such that their sins have become yours, and their guilt your shame. Or, perhaps your name is instead remembered by a nickname which has nothing to do with being a rock, but rather something closer to a loser who has never lived up to your own or others’ expectations.
Whatever it is, my friends, whatever your name has come to mean to yourself, or to others, at this table, where Yeshua and Simon and the rest of them sat, God wants you to move past from all of that. To inherit a new meaning and a new purpose as a free and beloved child named by the Spirit… All you have to do then, as my good friend Annemarie reminds me, is just let go. And then, let God. For Christ’s burden is light and his yoke is easy, and in him there is rest but also salvation, and thereby a freedom to create once again, and become a new translation of yourself.
Amen.
