The Kingdom Movement

A Literary & Pastoral Study Guide to the Gospel of Matthew

The Inspiration of Matthew,

by Caravaggio

On the King's Errand

Devotional Reflections on Matthew's Gospel

Knowing God’s Name Transforms Us, and Why

          ‘…baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.’ (28:19)

God had used various names for Himself before.  In the long history of Israel, the God of Israel allowed Himself to be called ‘LORD of this’ and ‘LORD of that.’  To be a ‘lord,’ after all, is a relational designation:  he had to be ‘lord’ of someone or something.  Usually, some characteristic or activity was appended to the word ‘LORD’ or YHWH/Jehovah.  These were ‘pet names’ or ‘nicknames’ for God.

Mystery surrounded one particular Old Testament name for God.  In the Ancient Near East, ‘El’ was already being used as name for a mighty god.  But the Jews called their God ‘Elohim’ – a strange name or nickname because it already contained the plural form; anything that ends in ‘im’ is a plural form in Hebrew.  It might have been heard as, ‘The mighty God who is more than One’ or something like that.  This Elohim created the heavens and the earth (Gen.1:1 – 2:3).  Already in the Jewish understanding of God, there is a mysterious complexity.

Then, in one of the most important creeds of Israel, the Shema, comes the statement, ‘Hear O Israel, the LORD your God is one’ (Dt.4:5 – 6).  The word for ‘one’ actually means ‘unified,’ as if there were more than one, but they are one in action, or one in purpose.  It’s the same thought as when husband and wife are said to be ‘one.’  Again, there is a mysterious complexity behind the text of the Old Testament.  It’s as if something was yet to be revealed.

Now, Jesus comes along and says that the one name of God to be used by his people is the name, ‘Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.’  This is God’s name.  And the symbol of baptism – symbolizing the transforming, death to life experience that Jesus calls us into – is one of our responses to this one true God who has one name:  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

But doesn’t that sound like three names?  Grammatically, shouldn’t Jesus have said, ‘…in the names of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit’?  What kind of name is that? 

On the other hand, how can they truly be separate names?  How can the Father be called Father unless he is the Father of someone, namely his Son?  And how can the Son be called Son unless he is the Son of someone, namely his Father?  To be Father is to be Father of.  To be Son is to be Son of.  These are relational designations.  Even the Spirit is a relational designation.  The Spirit is the Spirit of someone, in this case, the Spirit of the Father and the Son. 

          Why are we to understand the one God this way?  If we perceive God like this, then we are perceiving relationships of a sort we can just barely understand.  Whoever the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit truly are, they are inseparable, and cannot be understood without each other.  When we say that the one name of God is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, we are attesting to that. 

But how can we perceive the inner relation between the Son and the Father – as Jesus knows it – by standing outside God?  We cannot.  Among people, we can perceive father-son relationships as being between two distinct and separate individuals with two distinct and separate names.  But for reasons that strain the human mind, we cannot say that about God:  God is not two or three distinct individuals.  He is one being.  Huh??? 

If we perceive this relation between Son and Father in God, then something has happened to us, too.  If we can call God our Father, then we must somehow be in the same place as Jesus the Son, the only one who can naturally call God Father.  The Spirit has drawn us inside Jesus and sustains us there.  We know God from the vantage point of being in Jesus and by the Spirit.  We are caught up into the very relations within God, the very love of God. 

Needless to say, something profound has happened.  We have been immersed and transformed into God Himself, in a spiritual baptism that goes far beyond the outward physical symbol.  We’ve died to our independent, self-centered selves, and risen new in the being of another:  an interdependent, other-centered God who is that way in His very being.  We have come to life inside God, suspended in the loving relations of the Trinity.

          The closest analogy I can think of comes from an experience I had one summer when I was 19 years old.  I was having dinner with the family of a friend of mine.  This family was very warm, and it was a refreshing contrast with my family, which at the time was troubled:  My parents had been arguing about getting a divorce for three years, as they struggled with alcohol, money, and other things that had become tied into their relationship; a coldness had set into our daily routine and conversations.  But in my friend’s family, the dad and mom held hands while they invited me into conversation that made me feel known and cared for, and laughed with their three children.  A part of me ached with longing.  Could I become a part of a family like that? 

          If we knew about the love that exists within God, between the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, we would certainly feel the same.  Praise God that He does not leave us as outsiders.  He has made a way for us to actually participate in His very life.  His name – a name of holy relationship – reminds us of that.  And He is calling, through us, to a world He still loves.