I’ve always been a fan of the new name. Maybe it’s because Brett doesn’t translate well into other languages or accents. I’ve been called it all. Breck, Bright, even Breakdance a few times. Maybe it’s because I grew up in an African culture where names are very meaningful: Divine, Faithful, Standstill. Their purpose was right there in front of them in bold letters as they learned to write.
Maybe it’s because, according to my parents, I narrowly avoided being named Brick. Yes, Brick. As in,“We should build this house with…” or “The third little pig was smarter than the others. He didn’t build with straw or sticks. He built his house out of….”
Several times in Scripture God gives people new names. God changed Abram to Abraham, Sarai to Sarah. After an epic wrestling match Jacob became Israel. After a Spirit inspired revelation that would rock the foundations of future faith Simon became Peter. At other times God didn’t wait until a midlife crisis or dark night of the soul to change a name. Sometimes God gave chosen names to parents for their unborn children. The aged Zechariah was graced with the name John for his way-making son. The young Mary was surprised with the saving name of God who draws near to us, Jesus.
Not Your Average Joseph
It appears, influenced by God action in the days of old and the playful attention of Jesus, the early church got in on the name changing fun too. In the book of Acts the apostles gave a new name to a man named Joseph.
Joseph was a Levite, a descendant of Jacob’s son that brought forth Moses, Miriam and Aaron. For generations his ancestors stewarded the holy space where humanity met with God. His people carried the Tabernacle through the wilderness and cared for the Temple in Jerusalem.
But this young Levite was not your average Joseph, born and raised in Israel. He was a third culture kid, a child of immigration, a Hellenistic Jew. He was born on the mediterranean island of Cyrus off the elbowed coasts of Turkey and Syria. He was raised amidst the swirl of diverse nationalities and people groups that ferried back and forth from his golden green home.
Then one day while in Jerusalem he heard the good news of Jesus, the crucified King of the Jews. He joined the growing band of pentecostal disciples who believed with one heart and soul in Jesus the resurrected King and His everlasting Kingdom. He listened to the powerful testimony of the apostles and He saw the social imbalance of society. Looking around him, he saw hunger and injustice. He saw pain and persecution, desperation and need. Joseph accepted the radical message of King Jesus and began to dismantle the life he’d built for himself.
He sold a field he owned and gave the money to the apostles to distribute it to the disenfranchised; the widows, the orphans and the foreigners in need.
The apostles began to call Joseph by a new name: Barnabas (Acts 4.36). In this new name, Barnabas, they folded in rich purpose and meaning to which Luke stopped to give special attention. Luke didn’t let this new name slip by without translation. Bar Nabas in Hebrew literally means son of prophecy, but through interpretation and translation it becomes ‘uios paraklaseos,’ son of encouragement.
Encouragement Led by the Spirit
Often Jesus referred to the Holy Spirit as the Paraclete, the helper, the comforter, the encourager. The apostles listened to Jesus teaching them about the promise of the Father, the empowering of their lives and ministry in the baptism of His encouraging Holy Spirit.
As the apostles watched Joseph from Cyprus they saw a man led by the Spirit. They saw a life yielded to the movement of Jesus’ love for the broken and oppressed. They witnessed in his words and actions an advocate for the discouraged, a comfort to the hurting. Joseph from Cyprus gave freely of himself and his resources. He gave generously of his impact and influence to advocate for others. The apostles were right to call him a son of encouragement, the Paraclete, a son of the Spirit.
Reading the book of Acts afresh we see Joseph of Cyprus’ influence everywhere. From the early church in Jerusalem to the planting of churches among the Gentiles. Led by the Spirit he put his reputation on the line for Paul the former Pharisee who was now preaching the gospel. When testimonies came to the apostles that God was establishing a multiethnic church in Antioch they sent Barnabas as their reliable scout. And when a young missionary ‘failed’ the son of encouragement was there to comfort him, to create space for the young John Mark back into ministry (with that in mind, reading the Gospel according to Mark takes on a whole new level of richness).
From Azusa to Dakar
A few weeks ago, while guiding the Bible school students through a biblical model of leadership, we looked at the Asuza Street revival as a case study. In 1906, it really looked like the Church in America was stepping into a new name. Men and women led the congregation together. Black, white, asian and hispanic lifted up the name of Jesus in unison holy and set apart from a segregated nation. But after a few years, the American church looked more like the aftermath of Babel than it did the day of Pentecost.
As we talked about the racial divisions still alive in America I could not hold back tears, or keep my voice from trembling. America, that “great unfinished symphony” desperately needs of a Church led by the Holy Spirit, ready to advocate for the voiceless and stand up for the downtrodden. In that raw and tender moment I invited the class into our pain and asked them to pray with us for the United States, for the Potomac, for Richmond.
Stepping into a New Name
World systems are collapsing. Whole nations are lost in political upheaval or surrendered to the corrupt and powerful. Refugees from every continent are fighting their ways across deserts, through war zones and pitching waves on the mere whispers of a promise, a better life. People with names are being lost on the margins of society and along the borders of nations.
How will we respond to the world in need? How will we respond to the call of the Spirit?
Looking across the Global Church many want to be like Paul, the pioneer of church planting. Others may long to be like Peter, stumbling their way through ministry to the papacy. But what the struggling world sorely needs now is a generation of men and women like Barnabas in the Church. We don’t need more Bricks or Bretts, Josephs or Jacobs. We need sons and daughters of the Spirit. Men, women and children who will follow the Spirit of Jesus into the lives of the hurting and lost.