On Naming and Renaming
Or, the divine prerogative to provide nomenclature suited to the new identity of a thing in itself
Our Present Age
Volume 1, No. 8
On naming and renaming, Or the divine prerogative to provide nomenclature suited to the new identity of a thing in itself
By Jacob Patrick Collins
21 October 2022
Paulum…minimum est.
—Augustine, Enarrationes in Psalmos 72:4
God uniquely possesses the authority to either name or rename a particular instantiated thing. In Genesis, God evidently names what he has already made, and this is his prerogative because he made it (Jn 1:3) from nothing; thus, the book presents a catalog of things to which God has given a name: lucem diem (1:5), tenebras noctem (1:5), firmamentum caelum (1:8), aridam terram (1:10), congregationesque aquarium…maria (1:10).
Post diem secundum, Deus non appellavit quid. Sed contra, Adam nomines facit. Vide enim in Liber Genesis 2, 19:
וְכֹל֩ אֲשֶׁ֨ר יִקְרָא־ל֧וֹ הָֽאָדָ֛ם נֶ֥פֶשׁ חַיָּ֖ה ה֥וּא שְׁמֽוֹ
καὶ πᾶν, ὃ ἐὰν ἐκάλεσεν αὐτὸ Αδαμ ψυχὴν ζῶσαν, τοῦτο ὄνομα αὐτοῦ
omne enim quod vocavit Adam animae viventis ipsum est nomen eius.
We cannot say confidently that the names given to Adam are the same names we use today, but we can say with every confidence that God assigned Adam a task which was properly God’s alone. For it is only the one who creates, who owns, that has the sovereignty to name it. Even though he did not create it and so has no innate right to name anything, God has given Adam the ability and responsibility for calling everything by its name. In doing so, God gives creation to Adam, signifying that Adam is to rule creation. In the intended order of things, this is God’s command: “crescite et multiplicamini et replete terram et subicite eam” (1:28). God gives Adam the unique position and authority to name, something which was God’s place to do; therefore our obligation to name is a divine duty and not something which can be assumed. That responsibility is evident in us when we name our children, our families, our homes.
Even when God creates woman, Adam takes it upon himself to name her (Gen 2:23):
זֹ֣את הַפַּ֗עַם עֶ֚צֶם מֵֽעֲצָמַ֔י וּבָשָׂ֖ר מִבְּשָׂרִ֑י לְזֹאת֙ יִקָּרֵ֣א אִשָּׁ֔ה כִּ֥י מֵאִ֖ישׁ לֻֽקֳחָה־זֹּֽאת
Τοῦτο νῦν ὀστοῦν ἐκ τῶν ὀστέων μου καὶ σὰρξ ἐκ τῆς σαρκός μου· αὕτη κληθήσεται γυνή, ὅτι ἐκ τοῦ ἀνδρὸς αὐτῆς ἐλήμφθη αὕτη.
hoc nunc os ex ossibus meis et caro de carne mea haec vocabitur virago quoniam de viro sumpta est
God maintains his authority over creation, but he delegates that authority to us.
Elsewhere, God offers a new name to signify a new creation. Though his external situation remains the same, Abram receives a new name from God (Gen 17:5):
וְלֹא־יִקָּרֵ֥א ע֛וֹד אֶת־שִׁמְךָ֖ אַבְרָ֑ם וְהָיָ֤ה שִׁמְךָ֙ אַבְרָהָ֔ם כִּ֛י אַב־הֲמ֥וֹן גּוֹיִ֖ם נְתַתִּֽיךָ
καὶ οὐ κληθήσεται ἔτι τὸ ὄνομά σου Αβραμ, ἀλλ̓ ἔσται τὸ ὄνομά σου Αβρααμ, ὅτι πατέρα πολλῶν ἐθνῶν τέθεικά σε.
nec ultra vocabitur nomen tuum Abram sed appellaberis Abraham quia patrem multarum gentium constitui te
God also provides a new name for Sarai, his wife (Gen 17:15):
שָׂרַ֣י אִשְׁתְּךָ֔ לֹא־תִקְרָ֥א אֶת־שְׁמָ֖הּ שָׂרָ֑י כִּ֥י שָׂרָ֖ה שְׁמָֽהּ
Σαρα ἡ γυνή σου, οὐ κληθήσεται τὸ ὄνομα αὐτῆς Σαρα, ἀλλὰ Σαρρα ἔσται τὸ ὄνομα αὐτῆς.
Sarai uxorem tuam non vocabis Sarai sed Sarram
These are simple letter additions, but a whole new reality slips into a new name. For Abram, his name changes from “exalted father” to “father of a multitude.” In so doing God points forward to a time when his descendants have overshadowed him; and though the Israelites will never forget who their father was, Abraham now exists, not for his own state of exultation, but for his descendants, the multitude which will come from him (σπέρμα Ἀβραὰμ). This is a new creation, a new moment in God’s eschatological plan for the world (Gal 3:16). For Abraham and Sarah’s new names signify the start of something new, the beginning of God’s call and marking out of a special people for himself: “Instead of producing the small, it produces the great; instead of the particular, the universal; instead of the mortal, the immortal.”[1] God condescends to rename some part of the created order and in so doing begins to symbolize a new reality, begins to crystallize the arrival of the coming Christ.
Replete with like examples, the Old Testament presents the story of Israel by focusing on its lead characters, often showing them both in their strength (David alone defeats Goliath) and in their weakness (David alone sleeps with Bathsheba). In their weakness, of course, God’s strength is shown (2 Cor 12:9), but at no point is a thoughtful reader ever tempted to mistake Moses for God and God for the devil. These are humans; and though they occasionally rise in a magnificent display of virtue, their pattern of life is more commonly mired in a slough of despond as they eat, drink, and rejoice in a city of destruction. However, God remains faithful to his promises (Rom 9:6; 2 Tim 2:13), and the great scarlet thread running straight through Scripture is the “power of God for salvation” (Rom 1:16–17), God offering the free gift of grace to those who do not deserve it.
This is the story of Paul the Apostle, the one who “persecuted the church of God” (1 Cor 15:9). He was born as Saul, the namesake of that first great king of a united Israel (1 Sam 9:2) and as such was great in himself (Phil 3:4). Saul had every reason to boast: born of the tribe of Benjamin and named for the tallest, most handsome, most powerful man in Israel, for Saul is a royal name. But here again a single letter change communicates a whole new reality. By changing his name from Saul to Paul, the Apostle changes his name from the regal to the slave, to the “least of the apostles” (1 Cor 15:9). By taking on this new name, Saul redefines himself, not as a great man in himself, but of nothing compared to the one he serves. Agamben makes this point:
Saulos is in fact a regal name, and the man who bore this name surpassed all Israelites, not only in beauty, but also in stature (1 Sam 9:2; this is why, in the Koran, Saul is called Talut,[2] the highest). The substitution of sigma by pi therefore signifies no less than the passage from the regal to the insignificant, from grandeur to smallness—paulus in Latin means “small, of little significance,” and in 1 Corinthians 15:9 Paul defines himself as ‘the least [elachistos] of the apostles. Paul is therefore a surname, the messianic signum (which is the same as a supernomen) that the apostle bestows on himself at the moment he fully assumes the messianic vocation.[3]
Here is a whole new reality smuggled into a letter change; here is the beginning of a new creation, signified by renaming the created order.
Saul willingly takes on this name change, just as a wife willingly takes on the name of her husband. Of all our naming conventions, this is perhaps one of the most unique and telling ones. Humans alone have the ability to name things, and naming signifies lordship over something. When I name my child, giving him my last name as well, I communicate that the child belongs to me, and for the appointed time is under my dominion. However, when someone takes on a name that is not their own, then they have chosen to identify themselves so completely with the holder of that name they sacrifice a part of their original identity. In so doing a wife acknowledges, in her freedom as a Christian, to submit to the one whose name she took. She has given up her autonomy for some higher end. Paul too has taken on the name of Christ and so given up his own status to be part of the family of God.
There is an eschatological significance to names as well, for in the Apocalypse (2:17) God tells John of Patmos:
Ὁ ἔχων οὖς ἀκουσάτω τί τὸ πνεῦμα λέγει ταῖς ἐκκλησίαις. Τῷ νικῶντι δώσω αὐτῷ τοῦ μάννα τοῦ κεκρυμμένου, καὶ δώσω αὐτῷ ψῆφον λευκήν, καὶ ἐπὶ τὴν ψῆφον ὄνομα καινὸν γεγραμμένον ὃ οὐδεὶς οἶδεν εἰ μὴ ὁ λαμβάνων.
qui habet aurem audiat quid Spiritus dicat ecclesiis vincenti dabo ei manna absconditum et dabo illi calculum candidum et in calculo nomen novum scriptum quod nemo scit nisi qui accipit
Hear what the Lord says to the prophet Isaiah (55:13):
תַּ֤חַת הַֽנַּעֲצוּץ֙ יַעֲלֶ֣ה בְר֔וֹשׁ תַּחַת [וְ][תַ֥חַת] הַסִּרְפַּ֖ד יַעֲלֶ֣ה הֲדַ֑ס וְהָיָ֤ה לַֽיהוָה֙ לְשֵׁ֔ם לְא֥וֹת עוֹלָ֖ם לֹ֥א יִכָּרֵֽת
καὶ ἀντὶ τῆς στοιβῆς ἀναβήσεται κυπάρισσος, ἀντὶ δὲ τῆς κονύζης ἀναβήσεται μυρσίνη· καὶ ἔσται κύριος εἰς ὄνομα καὶ εἰς σημεῖον αἰώνιον καὶ οὐκ ἐκλείψει
pro saliunca ascendet abies et pro urtica crescet myrtus et erit Dominus nominatus in signum aeternum quod non auferetur
Again, he says to Isaiah (56:5):
וְנָתַתִּ֨י לָהֶ֜ם בְּבֵיתִ֤י וּבְחֽוֹמֹתַי֙ יָ֣ד וָשֵׁ֔ם ט֖וֹב מִבָּנִ֣ים וּמִבָּנ֑וֹת שֵׁ֤ם עוֹלָם֙ אֶתֶּן־ל֔וֹ אֲשֶׁ֖ר לֹ֥א יִכָּרֵֽת
δώσω αὐτοῖς ἐν τῷ οἴκῳ μου καὶ ἐν τῷ τείχει μου τόπον ὀνομαστὸν κρείττω υἱῶν καὶ θυγατέρων, ὄνομα αἰώνιον δώσω αὐτοῖς καὶ οὐκ ἐκλείψει.
dabo eis in domo mea et in muris meis locum et nomen melius a filiis et filiabus nomen sempiternum dabo eis quod non peribit
Again, he says to Isaiah (62:2):
וְרָא֤וּ גוֹיִם֙ צִדְקֵ֔ךְ וְכָל־מְלָכִ֖ים כְּבוֹדֵ֑ךְ וְקֹ֤רָא לָךְ֙ שֵׁ֣ם חָדָ֔שׁ אֲשֶׁ֛ר פִּ֥י יְהוָ֖ה יִקֳּבֶֽנּוּ
καὶ ὄψονται ἔθνη τὴν δικαιοσύνην σου καὶ βασιλεῖς τὴν δόξαν σου, καὶ καλέσει σε τὸ ὄνομά σου τὸ καινόν, ὃ ὁ κύριος ὀνομάσει αὐτό
et videbunt gentes iustum tuum et cuncti reges inclitum tuum et vocabitur tibi nomen novum quod os Domini nominabit
The one who conquers receives a new stone, but here is what is shocking. The Apocalypse is written to the churches, but it is not they who conquer. They offer nothing to God in his conquest of Evil. So I too offer nothing to God; I cannot defeat the forces of evil, of death, of the devil; instead, I depend upon the one who conquers, and this is the Christ. He is the one who receives a new name; he is the one who rises from the dead and is “trampling down death by death”[4]; he is the one who conquers the forces of evil, “for he has put everything under his feet” (1 Cor 15:27).
αὶ εἷς ἐκ τῶν πρεσβυτέρων λέγει μοι Μὴ κλαῖε· ἰδοὺ ἐνίκησεν ὁ λέων ὁ ἐκ τῆς φυλῆς Ἰούδα, ἡ ῥίζα Δαυείδ, ἀνοῖξαι τὸ βιβλίον καὶ τὰς ἑπτὰ σφραγῖδας αὐτοῦ
et unus de senioribus dicit mihi ne fleveris ecce vicit leo de tribu Iuda radix David aperire librum et septem signacula eius (Apoc 5, 5)
In that victory we participate, for the body of Christ is not excluded from the divine renaming of creation (Rev 12:11):
καὶ αὐτοὶ ἐνίκησαν αὐτὸν διὰ τὸ αἷμα τοῦ ἀρνίου καὶ διὰ τὸν λόγον τῆς μαρτυρίας αὐτῶν, καὶ οὐκ ἠγάπησαν τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτῶν ἄχρι θανάτου
et ipsi vicerunt illum propter sanguinem agni et propter verbum testimonii sui et non dilexerunt animam suam usque ad mortem
God gave us the divine right to name a thing and so claim ownership of the thing, but he retains the divine prerogative to rename a thing according to what it actually is. When God provides a new name, he is communicating a new reality. And when God speaks—things happen.[5]
Thou art the King of Israel, thou David’s royal Son,
Who in the Lord’s Name comest, the King and Blessed One.
All glory, laud and honor, to thee, Redeemer, King!
To whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring!
[1] Philo, De mutatione nominum, 124–25. In this series of contrasts, Philo draws a distinction between a single individual and the larger group which comes from them and what those name changes signify.
[2] Some scholars believe that طالوت is not Saul, but Gideon, because the Koran relates the story of drinking from the river (Judg 7:5–7). However, the traditional view is that Talut, while of uncertain origin, refers to Saul. See Oliver Leaman, The Qur’an: An Encyclopedia (New York: Routledge, 2006), 638, citing Abu Ishaq al-Tha’labi, who suggests that Samuel finds the king of Israel by looking for the tallest person.
[3] Giorgio Agamben, The Time that Remains, trans. Patricia Dailey (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2005), 9.
[4] Paschal troparion (Χριστός ἀνέστη) in the Byzantine rite.
[5] “All Glory, Laud, and Honor.” Words: Theodulph of Orleans (d. 821); tr. John Mason Neale (1818–1866).