“What’s in a name?” If Shakespeare (sounds very masculine and strong if you think about it) had been named Shakey-speare instead he might not have written about roses smelling sweet regardless of what they were called. Names can deeply affect how others view us and how we see ourselves. Names from the “wrong” nationality, suggesting the “wrong” gender, or reminiscent of body parts or functions have long been used to torment and ridicule. I still go by “F.” for my middle name. My grandfather, from whom that name comes, hated it and went by a derivative. And unbelievably, he named his son, my uncle, with the same exact name, and he wouldn’t go by it either. So my parents passed on that same name to me.

In Biblical times, names often were even more important because they were meant to not just to identify you, but also to describe you. For example, the patriarch Isaac had twin sons. The first borne was named Esau, meaning “hairy,” because of how he looked when born. The second was born holding onto Esau’s heel and so was named Jacob, meaning “heel holder” or “supplanter.” Supplanter is a rather old fashioned word meaning to take what is another’s by force or deceit. Both names proved to be accurate. Years later, Jacob deceived his blind father into believing he was Esau by pretending to be hairy so he could receive the parental blessing reserved for the first born.

Jacob continued to be true to his name until he had an encounter with God. En route to an attempt at reconciliation with Esau, Jacob sent messengers ahead and found out that Esau was coming with a small army. Jacob offered gifts (the deceiver remembered his deception and thought a bribe would help) of flocks and herds, sent his family away to safety, and then prayed.

In response, an angel showed up, not to console or help, but to fight. And they fought all night. Jacob finally walked away wounded, his hip out of joint. But he also came away with a new name, Israel, given to him by God. Israel means “God contends,” “God prevails,” or “struggles with God.” He was transformed from Jacob, the deceiver, to “God wins.” We don’t find out who we really are until we struggle with God, fight with Him without letting go, and come away limping.
If I were God and renamed a person, I would always use the new name from that point on. In fact, He does sometimes do that. Abram gives way to Abraham; Sarai to Sarah; but Jacob and his descendants are referred to as both Jacob and Israel. The names are often even used in the same verse, almost as if God were speaking of two different men. Perhaps He was two different men. I know I am. My old nature connives, contends, and cajoles to get what I want. I’m often like Jacob, who was promised blessing by God, but who took it wrongly from his brother through trickery and deceit. I’m also like Israel. I’ve fought with God, wouldn’t let go-- desperately wanting to be blessed--, and came away wounded. Like him, my badge of honor is the wound I received while struggling with Him. My weakness is achieved through His strength; His strength perceived through my weakness.

My name is Jacob. I’m a struggling sinner, without hope of ever being better. My name also is Israel. I’m a son of God, recipient of all His promises. But I choose to be called Israel. It's the new name my Father gave me.

What’s your name?

…To him who overcomes, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it. (Rev 2:17)