On a street walk almost two years ago, I met three people within an hour, all of whom never revealed their names. One was a woman at the IDS Center, sitting on the floor surrounded by a number of fully-packed bags. The last—and longest encounter—was with a man in a wheelchair, huddled under a blanket. He never gave us his name, but he revealed to us the darkest depths of his heart.  

      He had been manipulated many times by a particular person, leaving him vulnerable in more ways than one. It was easy to understand the injustice as my friend and I listened to his story. He shared with us the words he wished to say to say to this man, looking at me in the eye as he did so. The rage, hatred, and desire for vengeance in his words left me shaken after that conversation.  

Never once did we know his name. 

What’s in a name? 

      One of our key parts of going out on street walks is offering our names, and then asking for the name of the person we are encountering. It has been said that often, the homeless go for months without hearing their names being said. One can imagine the sense of loss of personhood in this situation. It is why we stress the importance of knowing a person’s name we encounter, and even using it in our conversations with them.  

      Though many of us on this planet share the same names, each one is unique because it is tied to a very unique person. Perhaps it can be considered a risky thing...especially for our friends experiencing poverty. By giving their name, they might feel as though they are giving others permission to hurt them again.  

     The same thing can happen with us, in our relationships with each other and with God. It may not be to the point of literally withholding our name, but it might be in the form of solely identifying with our wounds, and consequently shutting people and the Lord out. We become so wrapped up in our hurt, that we begin to forget our own goodness and the goodness of others, as made in God’s image and likeness. We begin to “name” certain people as untrustworthy, manipulative, even before we know anything of their true character. We think we protect ourselves but, not only do we hurt them, we continue to wound ourselves in perpetuating the lies that have come from our past pains.  

     And perhaps what is most destructive is when we project these pre-conceived character traits onto God.  
 
Our names communicate something particularly precious about us: our dignity and personhood. Are we acknowledging this in others, and in ourselves?