The Ordinary Name-Grater Works and Good News

¹ “Don’t let your hearts be agitated. Place your trust in God, and place your trust in me. ² There are many places to stay in my Father’s house. If not, would I have told you that I am leaving to get a place ready for you? ³ And if I leave and get a place ready for you, I am coming again and will take you along with me, so you can also be where I am. ⁴ You know the path to where I’m going.”

⁵ “Lord,” said Thomas, “We don’t know where you’re going. How can we know the path?”

⁶ Jesus said, “I am the path, truth and life. No one comes to the Father except through me. ⁷ If you have gotten to know me, you will also know my Father. And—from now on—you do know and have seen the Father.”

⁸ “Lord,” said Philip, “Show us the Father, and it will be enough for us.”

⁹ Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you for so long, and you haven’t gotten to know me, Philip? Whoever sees me sees the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? ¹⁰ Don’t you trust that I am connected with the Father, and the Father is connected with me? I don’t say the statements I have said to you by myself, but the Father accomplishes these things while staying present with me. ¹¹ Trust me that I am connected with the Father and the Father is connected with me, but if you don’t, then trust these actions. ¹² Truly, truly, I’m telling you, whoever trusts me will do the actions that I do, and they will also do more impressive things than these. ¹³ Whatever you would ask for as my representatives, I will do it, resulting in the Father being praised in connection with the Son. ¹⁴ If you ask me for anything as my representatives, I will do it.

John 14.1-4 (LIT Bible, translated by Brandon C. Vélez Johnson)

“In the beginning, there was a word. The word was whispered from the mouth of God, indeed was the very essence and likeness and being of God. God was the word, and the word was God. It was that word, this God, that became flesh and dwelt among us, being one of us, living alongside us.

God was Josh.

To see Josh was to see God. God was in Josh, and Josh was in God. Josh didn’t say words that were his own, but rather spoke the works of God into being, continuing the creation act over and over.”

Jesus had an ordinary name. In English, it’s Joshua. Josh. It’s a common name, nothing unique about it in and of itself.

Yet.

Growing up, the name of Jesus was heralded as a powerful word. As a sort of Abracadabra, when invoked, it was supposed to unlock mighty spiritual power, the very power of God. Someone was sick; we prayed for healing in Jesus’ name. We rebuked everything from cancer to colds in Jesus’ name. We exorcised demons in Jesus’ name. We claimed blessings (material goods), grasped at success in our endeavors, and longed for the right marriage partner, all in the name of Jesus.

Here’s the kicker: sometimes it worked.

There were times when our prayers mattered, and changes happened. I’ve seen healings. I’ve witnessed exorcisms and radically changed lives. I’ve been present for visions and words of wisdom that spoke to the deepest secrets that had never been uttered out loud.

Sometimes the name of Jesus carried power, and things happened that were nothing short of supernatural.

Most of the time, however, we were just throwing around an ordinary name, and that accomplished nothing. No healings. No changes. No angels or demons. Just a name wielded as a magic word.

Ultimately, we were abusers of Jesus’ name, using it in vain for the sake of personal comfort, power, prestige, and as a way to confirm our status as powerful soldiers in the army of the Lord.

So, when Jesus said, “Ask for anything in my name, and it will be done.” I’m left staggering.

We did ask in his name, and so often it was fruitless.

Was Jesus a liar?

Did Jesus get caught up in the moment and begin spouting off grand ideas and mythological phrases to bring his disciples comfort and to make himself look powerful?

Did Jesus really mean, “Ask anything in my name and I will do it?”

He seems to mean it. In Acts, we see signs and wonders and miracles all over the place. They are keeping in step with the miraculous life of Jesus.

The sick are healed.

Sight is given to the blind.

The captives are set free.

The dead are raised.

And then Acts ends, but the lore continues. All throughout Christian history, there are reports of miracles. People saved from martyrdom. Mystics levitating. Bi-location and teleportation. Stigmata.

The rumors continue to this day. I mean, I have my own stories of the supernatural. My testimony adds to the gathered lore of incredible miracles that have happened in Jesus’ name.

But my life also testifies to the times when Jesus’ name did nothing, when we were let down, when people remained sick and died, when marriages fell apart, when the powers of darkness triumphed.

So, what does it mean to carry the name of Jesus? What does it mean to ask in his name? What does it mean to belong to him, to bear witness and testimony?

In Rome, the  was a proclamation of good news about what Caesar had accomplished. It was something to remind people that the Pax Romana was achieved by might and power, and those things belonged to the emperor. So, when a battle was won, when territory was defended or taken, an Evangelion was sent out as a proclamation of the deeds of Caesar and his representatives.

In the same way, we carry an Evangelion. The good news we carry isn’t about might and power, though. The deeds we are testifying to are deeds of love, of kenotic self-donation—ultimately the cross—of liberation through unchanging goodness. We proclaim this gospel as people who have first received the good news, and who desperately want it to be true.

This good news has to be good news for the poor, the oppressed, the blind, the sick, the lame, the imprisoned; otherwise, it’s a proclamation of might and strength that doesn’t mean a damn thing unless we can change. This gospel isn’t for those who can change. It is for the helpless, the meek, the stuttering prayers, the weak. It is for those who have a hard time believing the Evangelion of Christ.

And indeed, this is the good news of Jesus. Jesus himself is this good news. We are proclaiming the person of Jesus as the center, source, means, and ends of this gospel.

Philip once asked Jesus, “Show us the Father and it will be enough.” Phillip wanted to believe a good news, but he thought the Evangelion was wrapped up in strength, majesty, and power. So, he wanted to see the source, the one in charge, the one that was the emperor of this new kingdom. Phillip wanted a theophany, a vision of God, saying that it would finally be enough if he could just see God.

Instead of a theophany, Jesus gave them himself.

“If you’ve seen me, you’ve already seen the Father. I am your theophany. I am the one to believe in. I am the Evangelion of the kingdom of God.”

Instead of the miraculous, Jesus gave them his body, broken for the sake of the world.

This is the name—this is the body we carry as gospel. In Jesus’ name means to work in the broken flesh of God. We aren’t called to do greater miracles; we are called to be broken in ways Jesus never was because we are his representatives. We are the heralds of the Evangelion of the kingdom of heaven, and as ambassadors of Jesus we walk in the way that is Jesus, in the truth and the life. That way isn’t about casting out demons and healing the sick. Yes, those things can—maybe will—happen, but that’s not the function of Jesus’ name.

Jesus’ name is loving your neighbor in meaningful, physical ways. It’s watching out for ICE. It’s cooking a meal and sitting with the hard things your trans friends are going through with the legislation against their very existence. It’s protesting the gutting of the Voting Rights Act. These are the kind of actions we take in the name of Jesus, because these are the actions Jesus would do if he were here.

We are Jesus to the world. We are the broken flesh. We are the carriers of this good news: that love has won, that the world won’t always be this way, and that we can begin to change things now, that we can make little changes to earth.

So, we act in an ordinary name, not a name that magically achieves the supernatural. We act in ordinary ways because Jesus’ way is in the ordinary.

Here is the good news.