by David Bates
Isaiah 12:2-6
As an adult convert to Christianity I observe that Christians are often so steeped in Bible language they don't notice how strange some biblical wording sounds. We're so used to "praising the LORD's name" we seldom ponder: Name? We could just as well substitute praise for the LORD's breath, voice, heaven, house -- get the idea? Why refer our praise to anything but the LORD?
Isaiah 12:2 includes the name "Yahweh" and one of Yahweh's shortened names: "Yah." The Jewish Publication Society allows you to see "Yah" in their translation, "For Yah the LORD is my strength…" A wonderful reason to know Yahweh's name is to bless others (Numbers 6:27). By blessing, that powerful being Yahweh communicates personal (never impersonal), generative, and protective power to his people. Psalm 9:10 records that the pious know the name of their God. They know God's character and concerns. That's why Yahweh was so persistent in explaining his name to Moses in Exodus chapter 3. When we realize what "name" meant in the Old Testament, we realize why Jesus commands us to pray in his name (John 16:23-24). Eugene Nida was Executive Secretary for Translations with the American Bible Society. He explained that, if you're translating the Bible for a language in which "name" only identifies/differentiates a person or thing or a culture that calls a person by a different name depending upon the group that speaks, verse 4 with its double mention of "his name" makes little sense.
Names in the Bible often express more than modern American names; yet, don't conclude that every name in the Bible is symbolic. Truth is, important names are specially reported, but that's the minority of Bible names.
A name in the Bible is important when it's changed -- often in Genesis -- which can signify a change in destiny. Name changes weren't the sole province of the Hebrews. The Bible records neighboring people changing names (and thus, also, status): Pharaoh changes Joseph's name (Genesis 41:45). Babylon's King places Mattaniah as king in Judah and switches his name to Zedekiah (2 Kings 24:17). (See Jeremiah 33:14-16 in the Advent 1 column for the promise that Jerusalem will receive a name change.)
Many Bible names include the name of a deity. The original names of the four young Judeans trained in Nebuchadnezzar's court (Daniel 1:7) all have endings indicating "God" ("-el" the Hebrews' God, or "-iah," "Yahweh," the usual name of the Hebrews' God). Their four new names refer to Babylonian gods.
List times, places and ways modern Americans experience name changes, such as when kids get to middle school or college and modify or jettison a name they never liked. Revive another school memory by recalling one's first love and having written that person's name many times and places. For those who like musicals: Westside Story's "Maria": "The most beautiful sound I ever heard."
Mention the irritation of listening to a name dropper. Why do we drop names? How does name dropping and calling on God's name compare and contrast? Bring up the embarrassment of forgetting names.
Note the importance of praying in God's name, as opposed to generic, impersonal, amorphous, or distant circumlocutions for God: "The Man Upstairs," the "Higher Power." The pious "know the name" of their God (Psalm 9:10). We pray in Jesus' name.
We assume that words have meaning and we find them in the dictionary. A dictionary records a word's "denotation," which means the center of what most people mean when they use it. However, words change and they change when different people use them, as when a teenager phones from a party to say, "I'll be home soon." In that context, what does "soon" mean, let alone what does it mean that Jesus will return "soon"? When you get out of the dictionary, you come to "connotation," which is the special meanings (and feelings) the word carries with it when used by individuals. Denotation and connotation don't have to be different, but sometimes they can be riotously so. Notice how "bad" is used by pop culture. Another axiom from semantics: One person can mean many different things by the same word. Language isn't mathematics, mechanics, or even chemistry. Language is human thought being communicated. People use different words for the same thing and one person can use the same word for different things.
Some people make a business of denying contradictions in the Bible. Yet life has problems and contradictions and the Bible, I rejoice to assert, is fully human as well as fully divine. If we deny that the Bible is fully human, we set the Bible higher than our Lord Jesus Christ.
Other folk believe that if they could just gather all the Bible writers to talk in a civil manner (with a great facilitator!) we'd smooth out all the Bible's rough stops. Presto! No contradictions. Yet, who's to say that by putting Paul and James into a room to discuss faith and works they'd come to a mutually agreeable conclusion? They might end in a bitter dispute, which Paul -- fully human -- was capable of. Let's allow Paul to be Paul and James to be James, and let's learn to live with people meaning different things by the same words. Also, let's allow Paul and others the "internal" contradiction of using one word (or word group) in two different ways. This isn't a contradiction. It's a fully human practice.
In the New Testament, the merimna group includes four words: a noun, two verbs, and an adjective. They center around apprehension or distress, possible danger or misfortune. The word group has the sense of "care" in it, what people care about. No matter the context, it concerns the future, as when Jesus mentions "the cares of the world" (Matthew 13:22).
To move toward a difference kind of care, Paul in 1 Corinthians 12:24-25 writes, "But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care (merimnao) for one another." Here's where we see that a word can have one (it can have several!) basic meaning, which turns two different ways. This word group, as Louw and Nida explain in their Greek-English Lexicon, "may refer to either unnecessary worry or legitimate concern."
Think of Paul's different uses of the word as a difference in direction: worrying/being concerned for oneself or for others. Paul tells his beloved Philippian friends, "Do not worry (merimnao) about anything." He uses the present imperative that probably reveals they're already worrying. The present imperative (usually) has to do with on-going actions. Worrying about ourselves prevents our concern for others. So, Paul turns his friends away from their worries and immediately directs them to God in prayer. Peter's first letter (5:7) gives fuller advice about worries and prayer: "Cast all your anxiety (merimna) on him, because he cares for you." For those with the gift of celibacy, Paul explains further what anxiety has to do with faith and life: 1 Corinthians 7:32-38.
Anxiety frets about the future. It diverts our attention and saps our energy. Paul's prescription is prayer, not to escape from responsibilities, but to live without undo care. Advent redirects our "future orientation" from over self-concern toward God and others. If we're anxious in fear, if we feel endangered, Paul offers "the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding" that "will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."Other folk believe that if they could just gather all the Bible writers to talk in a civil manner (with a great facilitator!) we'd smooth out all the Bible's rough stops. Presto! No contradictions. Yet, who's to say that by putting Paul and James into a room to discuss faith and works they'd come to a mutually agreeable conclusion? They might end in a bitter dispute, which Paul -- fully human -- was capable of. Let's allow Paul to be Paul and James to be James and let's learn to live with people meaning different things by the same words. Also, let's allow Paul and others the "internal" contradiction of using one word (or word group) in two different ways. This isn't a contradiction. It's a fully human practice.
Paul in Philippians 4:6 commands (or urges strongly), "Do not worry about anything." The verb is in the imperative mood, but don't conclude that "imperative equals command." Often, yes, but always, no. The imperative mood means you want someone else to do something. Prayers are often in the imperative mood! However, although Paul urges strongly/commands the Philippians not to worry (verb: merimnao), in 2 Corinthians 11:28 he states, "… besides other things, I am under daily pressure because of my anxiety (noun merimna) for all the churches. Paul tells others not to be anxious, but acknowledges his own anxieties. Here we benefit greatly from a standard insight of semantics: Words don't have meaning. When I say this to a group I pause, then continue: Words express meaning.
Paul's different words for prayer in verse 6 alert us to different aspects and ways of prayer. Our prayer can concentrate upon healthy means to flee "the cares of the world." If we're caught in the "anxiety trap" we aren't free to serve God and others. Ruth N. Koch and Kenneth C. Haugk list irrational beliefs that cause excessive anxiety (Speaking the Truth in Love: How to be an Assertive Christian, p. 33). Hold these thoughts before God in contemplative prayer and let God's Holy Spirit activate peace within you:
If someone is angry with me, it must be my fault.
If others do not tell me I am a good person, then I must not be.
It is my duty to make everyone happy and comfortable.
It is my duty to please everyone all the time.
Everybody ought to be nice to me.
I should always be and act happy in spite of my hardship or trouble that comes my way.