Called By Name

I wonder if you have ever had your name mispronounced. As a Catherine, there are a whole variety of possible spellings and shortened versions, and even with something as simple as ‘Cat’, the question that inevitably follows is ‘With a C or a K?’. Connolly is pretty easy, although there are still variations. But much worse was my maiden name of Colclough. It even made you feel a bit sorry for the annoying telemarketers who called trying to sell something, but their mangled attempts at pronunciation at least meant you could reply, ‘I’m sorry, nobody lives here with that name!’

Our names matter, and even more so at important times in our lives. At graduation ceremonies, the poor person tasked with reading out each name must have to practice for hours to make sure they get them all right. So when we read the collect for today, there is something intensely warm and comforting in the phrase ‘him who calls us each by name’. There is a personal connection here which runs very deep. God’s familiarity with us is complete.

In the gospel reading, Jesus is being asked for a clear and concrete answer. ‘Are you the Messiah? Tell us plainly!’ and true to form, he responds with what probably felt like a frustratingly vague answer. Jesus isn’t a fan of just saying yes or no. Instead we hear about sheep and following a voice and snatching out of hands. The people encountering Jesus are perpetually trying to figure out who this man is, and Jesus uses parables, analogies, and scripture to illustrate aspects of the answer.

The problem is of course that God - and therefore Jesus - is impossible to define. In the Old Testament when Moses asks for God’s name, the answer is ‘I AM WHO I AM’, which, let’s be honest, is not terribly helpful! But God is so beyond our ability to describe or capture with words or depictions, a name would at best only hint at a small part of the whole. Additionally, Jesus’ identity as the Messiah is not something that people accept by simply being told. If he had responded to their question with a straightforward ‘yes’, I don’t think the result would have been that all of them immediately became devoted disciples. The reality of who and what Jesus was is something that had to be understood on an innate level, something that struck true in the heart, a truth that became clear to some and not to others.

The metaphor for today is that of the Good Shepherd. Psalm 23 is familiar to all of us, and beloved by many. It would also of course have been very familiar to Jesus, and might have been a favourite psalm used often in worship at that time too. So the depiction of himself as shepherd is not an accident; instead it is yet another way that Jesus is answering the question in a very roundabout fashion. He’s saying, ‘you know God is our shepherd? Well I’m the shepherd too, so what do you think that means? My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me’.

The shepherd knows the sheep by name. Not just how to pronounce or spell it, or that you go by your middle name or a nickname, but he knows the name of your heart and soul. The name of who you are, that encompasses your self.

In the deaf community, it is common to have a sign name. This is different to simply spelling out the letters of your given name, instead it is a personal sign that says something individual about you, a unique gesture that represents you. It’s also not something you choose for yourself. It’s given to you by others—often by someone in the Deaf community who knows you well. It might reflect a physical feature, a personality trait, or something about what you love to do. It’s relational, a recognition - a way of saying, I see you. I know who you are.

To me this seems like an echo of the shepherd/sheep relationship Jesus is depicting. Sheep learn to trust the voice of the shepherd which calls them by name. And we learn to hear and trust the call of God when God speaks our name. When God calls out to us and we feel it as a tug on our hearts, as a knowledge deep down, a sense of faith, of love, of belonging.

We also see this personal call all over scripture. God calls Moses by name from the burning bush. God calls Samuel by name in the middle of the night. Jesus calls Mary by name in the garden on Easter morning, and in this moment she recognizes the risen Messiah.

Names are important, and to know one other is to build community. For Tabitha, or Dorcas, her death sparks enormous grief, to the point where Peter is summoned because Tabitha was deeply known and deeply loved. Then Peter does as Jesus did, and calling her by name restores her into relationship with her community. Her name becomes a moment of resurrection. That is the kind of shepherd God is, and who Jesus is. The one who calls us each by name. The one whose voice brings life, even in the valley of the shadow of death. The one who gathers us together because we are his.

This is the heart of the Good Shepherd image: not power or control, but relationship. I think this is why Psalm 23 resonates with so many of us, and is held so dear. It paints a picture of rest, trust, and love that we all long for.

‘Tell us plainly,’ they ask Jesus, ‘who are you?’ We have so many ways to think about God, so many names and analogies and images. Jesus taking the role of shepherd is just one of them, but we also know God as Creator, Redeemer, Spirit, Light, Rock, Father, Mother, Friend, and many more. None of them can capture all of who or what God is, this uncontainable I AM WHO I AM, and yet each name we use says something about the relationship that we have with God, something about what we need, what we are looking for, and how we experience the divine.

So perhaps the better question for us today isn’t “Who is God?” but “What name is God calling you by?” What is the voice of the shepherd saying to your heart in this season of your life? Is it a call to comfort? To courage? To hope, or rest, or renewal? Is it a whisper that reminds you who you truly are, when the world has tried to tell you otherwise?

And to take this call to heart leads to the question - how might you reflect that voice to others? How might you, like Tabitha, live in such a way that others also feel seen, known, and named? Because every one of us, both inside church and out, longs to be recognised and to belong. To follow the Good Shepherd is to carry that voice into the world: to speak names with tenderness, to build community, to offer welcome.

So beloved fellow sheep, go out in peace, to love and serve the Lord who names, knows, and calls you.

Amen.

Acts 9:36-43; John 10:22-30