The Name

week beginning 8 August 2004

I observed an interesting, if sad, phenomenon recently, while speaking with Europeans who had learned English. Language is an interesting phenomenon anyway, and it ought to give us pause that one of the reasons we enjoy holidaying in Europe is on account of the efforts made by others to learn our language. Would we be willing to holiday abroad if we had to learn the language of our destination countries?

It was on such a holiday that I spoke to several people whose first language was other than English, but all of whom displayed a remarkable facility in their acquired tongue. But what saddened me was how easily they had learned to blaspheme in another language. The names of God and of Jesus tripped off these European tongues with the same ease as other words, and in the same way as many native English speakers use God's name as a swear-word.

Like many other things in modern society, we have become so accustomed to hearing God's name used in this way that it fails to register as anything other than normal. This came home to me recently when a television programme frequently blanked out four-letter words with a whistle, but allowed the name of God to be aired as an expletive. Obviously we have become sensitive to the sensibilities of some sections of society; but we have little respect for God himself.

Yet God's name is jealously guarded in the decalogue with a commandment that prohibits us from 'taking God's name in vain', and treating it as a worthless thing. Just as the commandments guard the sanctity of worship, of truth, of marriage and of life, so they protect the sanctity of God's name.

One of the ways in which the ancient rabbis met the requirements of the commandment was to avoid pronouncing the name of Jehovah when they read the text of the Hebrew Bible. Their reverence for the four letters which spelt out the sacred name was such that they used the pronunciation of another Hebrew title so as to avoid mis-pronouncing the name of God.

Whether that practice met the requirements of the third commandment is highly questionable. God revealed his name not so that it would be avoided, but precisely so that it would be known. Yet the principle still stands. We are called by God himself to a reverent attitude towards God's name -- indeed, towards all forms of God's self-revelation. As Johannes Vos puts its it in his magisterial commentary on the Larger Catechism, 'both in our inner consciousness and in our self-expression in speech and writing, we are to be permeated by an attitude of reverence toward God's name'.

Even if we are not convinced of the abiding and perpetual authority of the decalogue, we have enough emphasis in the New Testament itself to highlight the principle of the sanctity of God's name. Not least is the clause in the Lord's Prayer which petitions 'Hallowed be thy name'. Indeed, this is the first petition of the prayer: Christ has taught us that before we ask for anything else, we ought to have a fitting attitude to the name of God.

Reformed theology has understood God's name to be much wider than simply a personal title. When God named himself as the great 'I am' of Exodus 3, the naming was an act of self-revelation and disclosure. God may be known by us only as a consequence of revelation; it is still the case, as Job discovered long ago, that man, by searching, cannot find out God. That God gives himself a name by which he may be known by us means that he reveals himself to us and invites us to know him. And as Jesus teaches us, to know God IS eternal life.

Both Old and New Testaments, therefore, unite in their doctrine of the supreme importance of God's name. We have not named God -- God has named himself. In doing so, he discloses something of his character and being to us, and offers us the opportunity to know him. Indeed, the book of Proverbs declares the name of God to be a strong tower, into which the righteous run, and in which they are safe.

For these reasons, therefore, the flippant and irreverent way in which God's name is used in our society ought to be a continuing source of sadness for those who love God and his word. By what standard do we regard some words as unacceptable in modern society, yet consider that to use God's name 'in vain' is OK?

Perhaps the current state of public language is a sign of how slow Christians have been to object to the misuse of God's name in public life. We have been quick to object when life is threatened by abortion or when the Sabbath is threatened by secularisation; but why do we allow the continued public and irreverent use of God's name? Is nothing sacred any more?

? Iain D. Campbell 2004