The Sermons At Calvary

By The Reverend Rhonda Lee

Holy Name

Luke 2:15-21

 

Besides the Bible, the greatest source of expressions and aphorisms in English is probably the work of William Shakespeare.  If we speak of being cruel to be kind, we quote Shakespeare; if we talk about star-crossed lovers, that’s from the prologue to “Romeo and Juliet”; if we can’t understand another person’s argument and say “It’s all Greek to me,” we’re borrowing a phrase from the Bard.  Likewise if we laugh ourselves into stitches, play fast and loose, are tongue-tied, have cold comfort or too much of a good thing, or insist on fair play.[1]  I could go on and on, but you probably already understand why thinking about the Feast of the Holy Name immediately brought to my mind a question from one of Shakespeare’s plays: “What’s in a name?” 

 

The question, of course, is Juliet’s.  Her family and Romeo’s are sworn enemies, and no matter how much our two young lovers may want to marry each other, it’s just not going to happen.  Young Juliet isn’t yet hardened to the ways of the world, and she has a brilliant idea, a way through their dilemma: “Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Capulet.”  After all, she reasons, “What’s in a name?  That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.”  That’s a radical statement in her world, where your name is related to your family, your property, your honour – all the things that are supposed to matter.  Romeo and Juliet learn that there is a lot in a name, and they end up being together only in death. 

 

Today’s feast also teaches us that there is a lot in a name.  Today we remember Jesus as an infant, eight days old.  He is a Jewish infant and so, according to the custom of his people he is circumcised and named on the eighth day after his birth.  New parents often agonize over what to name their baby, but Mary and Joseph didn’t have to.  The name of their child was given to Mary even before he was conceived, by the angel who brought her the news that she would bear “the Son of the Most High,” whose reign would last forever.  The angel told Mary, “You will name him Jesus” – which means “salvation” in Hebrew.  It would be pronounced “Yeshua” or “Isaiah” – “Joshua” or “Isaiah” in English. 

 

Jesus was a common name in first-century Palestine.  Naming a child Jesus might be a statement of faith: an expression of the belief that God was with the Hebrew people, that God would save them, that they wouldn’t be abandoned forever.  But this time the name had a different meaning.  This child would be the one to bridge the gap between humanity and God, to initiate the reign of God in this broken world, to show once and for all just how much God loved the world and everyone in it.  

 

What’s in a name?  A lot.  Naming this child “Jesus” was a radical statement, even more than Juliet’s request that Romeo give up his name to be her husband, even more than her willingness to do the same to be his wife.  Think about how audacious it was for Mary to name this particular baby Salvation.  She was a poor Jewish teen-ager who got pregnant before she was married, and she had the nerve to name her baby Salvation.  She may have known, and we may know, that the baby was the child of God, but the neighbours didn’t know that.  Can’t you just hear them?  “She turns up pregnant and now she says she’s going to call it Salvation?  Well, I never!”  And what about the Romans who occupied her country, the civil servants, the soldiers who patrolled the streets looking for trouble before it could really get started?  I can hear them too: “You can call that kid Salvation if you want, honey, but I can tell you that nothing will save your people.  Better just keep your heads down and enjoy whatever benefits the Roman empire can throw your way.” 

 

The neighbours may think that salvation comes from keeping your nose clean and staying out of trouble, and the Romans may think that salvation comes from having the strongest armies and the strongest economy in the world.  But Mary’s song, the Magnificat, shows us that she had studied the words of the prophets and she knew what salvation really looks like:  “...[God] has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.  He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty....”  In her heart, Mary knows that people like her, the young, the poor, the unwed mothers, will be vindicated in the end, and that somehow her son will make that happen. 

 

But first God needed her help.  God needed Mary to say “yes” to bearing the Saviour even though doing that would cost her dearly.  God needed Joseph to say “yes” to keeping his engagement to Mary and to raising her child as his own.  At the end of the baby’s life, when he was all grown up and alone in the garden of Gethsemane, God needed Jesus to say “yes” to going to the cross.  After his resurrection, Jesus needed his disciples to say “yes” to bringing God’s message of salvation to the world, even when that meant that many of them would end up on the cross themselves.  And today, Jesus still needs us to bring the message of salvation to the world, through our actions as well as our words.  We don’t have to be afraid that we’ll end up like Romeo and Juliet, because if we say “yes” to God, we will never be left alone.  The holy name of Jesus makes us that promise.  Blessed be that name. 

 

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[1] Examples taken from journalist Bernard Levin, quoted in  Robert McCrum, William Cran, and Robert MacNeil, The Story of English (London: BBC Books, 1986), 99.