Name

Name

I like my name. I should, I’ve had it for a long time. I’m talking about my first name, the name given me at birth by my parents: Dan. Not the formal Daniel or Danny and certainly not Danny boy. I remember by grandmother Eileen. She would grab me by the shirt, thrust me into her bosom, hug me and call me Danny boy. The smothering effect coupled with the lavender perfume made me allergic to that variation of my name.

Unfortunately, we live in a world where numbers are replacing names. Social Security, license, passport, insurance are but a few examples where names come in second. The computer world is slowly replacing my identity with passwords that need to have numbers to be valid. I am a person not a number.

The Bible is full of people’s names that have meaning and purpose. My own name appears prominently in the Old Testament. Daniel in Hebrew means God is my Judge. That alone has put the fear of God in me. Who wants to walk around with the label God Is My Judge?

Then there is that part where Daniel is thrown in the lion’s den for disobeying the king. To everyone’s surprise Daniel came out unscathed. Having been in a number of lion den situations in my years as a pastor, I can’t say that I always came out unscathed. I can say that God has been faithful to keep me from bleeding to death.

Here is a quote I read in a book by Eugene Peterson Run with the Horses. “No child is just a child. Each is a creature in whom God intends to do something glorious and great. No one is only a product of the genes contributed by parents. Who we are and will be is compounded with who God is and what he does.

God’s love and providence and salvation are comprised in the reality of our existence along with our metabolism and blood type and fingerprints.”

Like I said, I like my name: God is my Judge!