What’s in a name?

 

My name is Patricia, because my grandmother wanted to call my mother Patricia, but my grandfather was worried it would be shortened to Pat, and people would think she was a boy, so I ended up with the name. Some families have names that are passed down through the generations.

In the local Engadine Pictorial, there is a series on how streets in the area got the name they have.

In exodus we hear that Moses called the place Massah and Meribah, because the Israelites quarrelled and tested the Lord.

Even today places get named after events, such as Bicentennial Park.

I wonder what we would name this area, if it didn’t already have a name?

What would we name this church, we are Engadine Uniting Church, but if we wanted to give it a different name, what would that be?

Comfortable? Hope? Blessing? Apathy?

This past week has been designated by the Uniting Church as a week of prayer and fasting in solidarity with our indigenous brothers and sisters who are part of the Uniting Church. It is called Destiny together – a name which speaks of our interconnectedness. There was a gathering in Canberra with people from all over Australia, but only about 300 people in all. Maybe that is good for a Tuesday?

Tuesday evening there was a prayer meeting here and Wednesday evening at Carlton Ramsgate Church. Last night a celebration was planned at Sylvania. In the midst of the storm last night I was rung from Sylvania asking where people were – no one had come from around the Presbytery. Aboriginal people had come to tell stories and share music, and no one turned up.

I wonder what this says about our commitment to justice for indigenous people?

 

Moses could have named the area after anything, water, drought, rock, thirst, but he named it after the quarrelling people. We also have situations named after events we wish we could wipe out of our communal memories. Events like dropping an atomic bomb on Hiroshima, the name of the city is now synonymous with that event in history.

There is the stolen generation, which refers to a group of Aboriginal and Torres Straight Islanders people removed from their families and communities because of government policies. We can try and rationalise why this happened, and how some of the people involved had the best of intentions; but by naming it as the stolen generation, we acknowledge the pain and hurt that occurred as a result.

 

Here is a creative version of the woman at the well.

http://vimeo.com/22823852

 

this woman, whose name is not recorded, is known by innuendo and gossip. She is isolated by fear and pain, it is too hard to be around people who look at her sideways and make comments under their breath.

I wonder how many of us here this morning are imprisoned by the pain of hurtful words and behaviours; of being told continually that we are stupid or dumb or clumsy – what does that do to a child, and the adult they become?

As we hear more about the Royal Commission into child abuse within institutions, we hear about the impact on people’s lives, not for a short period of time, but their whole life.

What pain do we carry that imprisons us, that haunts our lives?

I wonder what pain we have caused with our words and actions? Individually and communally? Who do we brush aside, treat as unimportant?

Which groups in our community are neglected, put down, treated with suspicion?

How do we name the people who attempt to get to Australia looking for a place of safety?

How do we name people who live with mental illness?

How do we name …..

 

I remember growing up we were taught:

sticks and stones may break my bones,

but names will never hurt me;

 

but we know differently now,

we know that names can hurt, wound, kill.

We know now about bullying, both in person and using social media; we know about abuse, neglect and violence that occurs within families and communities and churches.

We know that life isn’t always easy or fair.

How do we name injustice, poverty, domestic violence, child abuse.

And how do we name these issues in ways that offers inclusion, rather than  exclusion and isolation.

How do we name injustice and bring hope

How do we name, and help others to name the pain that imprisons them, and in the process offer liberation.

 

We cannot do these things on our won, but in recognising the presence of Jesus, by drinking deeply from the well of grace ourselves, we are able to be a healing presence, and people who show others the way to life giving water.

 

What do you need to rename?

Hymn/song : TiS 692 sometimes a healing word