This past March, after saving our pennies for years, my friend Marie and I embarked on a ten-day tour of the Holy Land. For years, Marie and I would daydream about how it would feel to walk the same paths and visit the same locations our Savior would have when He was in human form on Earth. We signed up to go on a tour designed by an author and teacher we both admire. The tour included daily worship sessions and teachings by the author and her seminary professor, strategically scheduled at key locations in Israel.
Early one morning after arriving in Jerusalem, we found ourselves situated on the southern Temple Mount steps, which led up to the wall that surrounded the Temple in Jesus’s time. Jesus would have taught on the Temple Mount steps just prior to his betrayal and crucifixion. Blank name tags and Sharpies were passed out, so I assumed we were going to affix our names onto our tops before entering the walls later that day.
The morning began as many others had with worship tunes filling the air, preparing our hearts for the coming teaching from our hosts. Afterwards, one of the co-hosts of our tour stood up and started speaking to us about names. She described her childhood and how she had been bullied and called horrible names growing up.
She then began discussing Jacob, whom we find in the book of Genesis. In Genesis chapter 25, Rebekah, wife of Isaac, son of Abraham, is about to give birth to twins.
“When the time came for her to give birth, there were twin boys in her womb. The first to come out was red, and his whole body was like a hairy garment; so they named him Esau. After this, his brother came out, with his hand grasping his heel; so he was named Jacob” (Genesis 25: 24-26, NIV).
In biblical times, names held much more meaning than they do in our Western culture today. According to www.biblestudytools.com, [during biblical times] “a human name typically reflects character and mission anticipated in life, which may turn out for either good or ill.”
The name Jacob means “holder of the heel, or supplanter” (www.behindthename.com). The word supplanter means “to supercede, especially by force or treachery” (www.merriam-webster.com). Jacob would go on to become known as quite the supplanter, deceiving his older brother Esau in order to gain possession of his birthright, as well as his father Isaac to gain possession of his blessings. Jacob would then run from Esau, get married, and give birth to twelve sons and a daughter. In Genesis 32, some twenty years later, we find Jacob and Esau planning to reunite. On the way to their arranged meeting place, it is recorded Jacob wrestled with a man until daybreak. When daybreak was approaching, the man told Jacob to let him go, but Jacob stated he would not unless the man (believed to be God in human form) blessed him. The man asked Jacob what his name was, and when Jacob replied, the man stated, “Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with humans and have overcome” (Genesis 32:28 NIV).
Israel, or Jacob, would go on to become known as the forefather of the land of Canaan and his sons the leaders of the twelve tribes. Throughout Genesis, we see examples when Jacob would be called Jacob, and others when he would be known as Israel. Even though Jacob had been blessed and renamed by God, it would appear through many of his actions that Jacob still considered himself Jacob the supplanter.
Our co-host, an actress who had performed on Broadway and earned other accolades in life, went on to describe how even though she appeared “successful” in life, deep down in her heart there was still a part of her that believed she was the names those bullies had called her on the playground. It wasn’t until she was in counseling that her counselor forced her to “spit out” the name she believed in her heart to be her, just as God had forced Jacob to do.
I can’t tell you much more the speaker said, as by this point I was wracked with sobs, touched by the fundamental truth that even though I have been saved by Christ and given the right to become a child of God (John 1:12) and have life in His name (John 20:31), I still see myself as the same kid on the playground who was called “fat” and “four-eyes,” who felt rejected and unloved growing up.
As our co-host approached the end of her talk, she asked us to use our Sharpies to write the names we hang onto deep in our souls on the blank name tags–the names only God perhaps can force us to spit out. She then asked us to bring them to the front so others could pray over them. With fist clenched, I walked up front and slowly released the name I continue to struggle with. I then returned to my seat to listen to the rest of the speakers. A breeze picked up after I sat down, and a white name tag blew over and landed on my foot. I figured someone must have dropped the name they meant to turn in, but when I picked it up and looked at it, the word written on it was “loved.” Who else but God knew the word I submitted a few minutes earlier, the name that supplants all other names in my heart, was “unloved”? There, on the Temple Mount steps, the Holy Spirit sent a gentle breeze with a reminder of exactly who I am in His sight.
What name do you hold onto deep inside that might still be running the show? In Revelation 2:17, Jesus promises that when He returns, “I will also give that person a white stone with a new name written on it.” I think He gave me a clue as to what mine might be.
A few days later, we were handed white rocks to write prayer requests on. I chose to write my old name on mine, then chucked it into the Jordan River at the site John the Baptist baptized Jesus. I chose to bury my old name, choosing instead to look for the signs the Holy Spirit sends me each day to remind me I am loved, just as God did on that day thousands of years ago when He opened the sky and His Spirit descended on Jesus, declaring, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17 NIV).
I am His daughter, whom He loves. And He loves you, too. You are able, known, cherished, restored, orphaned no longer.
From the East to the West 