Divine Names
- Pastor Liz
- 2 minutes ago
- 3 min read
I got in a little fender-bender this week. A sweet woman named Betty pulled into a parking lot driveway and right into my car. Everyone was fine, but the front corner of my car got crunched. So now I’m waiting to hear the verdict from the collision shop and insurance company. It was, thankfully, a very minor accident but, as a friend, still big enough to create a headache.
As the tow truck whisked the nearly 15-year-old car off to the shop, I got oddly sentimental about “her.” We have a silly tradition in my family of naming our cars after characters from the comic Peanuts. It started with my brother’s early ’90’s Chevy hatchback named Chuck. Then my parent’s had a Honda Civic named Lucy. Since then we’ve had Snoopy, Woodstock, a second Lucy, Peppermint Patty (my teal Pontiac Vibe), Sir (my black Pontiac Vibe), and, the car in question, my beloved Toyota Highlander named Frieda (who has naturally curly hair.) With a sunroof, “leather” seats, and ample trunk space, she has been my ideal car for the past 7 years. While I hope it is not time to eulogize just yet, I realized that I have become quite attached. Frieda and I have gone on many adventures together, gotten lost more than a couple of times, weathered a few temper-tantrums, and she has kept us safe all along the way.
Things by Lisel Mueller What happened is, we grew lonely living among the things, so we gave the clock a face, the chair a back, the table four stout legs which will never suffer fatigue. We fitted our shoes with tongues as smooth as our own and hung tongues inside bells so we could listen to their emotional language, and because we loved graceful profiles the pitcher received a lip, the bottle a long, slender neck. Even what was beyond us was recast in our image; we gave the country a heart, the storm an eye, the cave a mouth so we could pass into safety.
Lisel Mueller’s poem articulates the human desire to quantify things, to name and tame them into submissive familiarity. We do the same with God, projecting gender and physical attributes on a God that is beyond human-created labels. We try to use logic and proofs to understand an illogical God. When we insist on, and worship, a neatly packaged and logical God, we hold tighter to the attributes than the way we experience God. We lose sight of the holy mystery, divine creativity, and the very God-ness of God.
In Exodus, Moses asks God, “When the Israelites ask me what your name is, what do I tell them?” God replies simply, “I AM Who | AM" (Exodus 3:14). In the Jewish tradition "God" is ineffable, unsayable, represented by the four-letter Tetragrammaton "YHWH" (יהוה). Considered too holy to utter, this name is often replaced with "Hashem" or "Adonai" in daily speech and prayer, respecting the concept that the Creator is beyond human comprehension, form, and language.
...what was beyond us was recast in our image…
I'm not opposed to names for God, even gendered language, but where we must be attentive is assuming our name for God is universal. This is especially true when it comes to religious leadership. Christianity has not benefited from the ubiquitous Father God. We need broader, braver, and more creative names for the Divine. A favorite poet of mine wrote, "Maybe God is just another word for ‘I don’t know.’”
That is a prayer I think I can pray. 🖤
This Sunday, May 17
This Sunday MORNING, May 17 at 11 am meet at Tolmie State Park for a beach walk and potluck brunch picnic. We'll explore tide pools and maybe go for a short walk. Bring your favorite brunch food to share, along with plate and silverware for yourself. I'll bring the coffee!
More info about Tolmie State Park:
A Discover Pass is required, let me know if you need help getting one.
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