It seems the ancient Jews took so seriously the name of God that they faintly uttered it. They took this so seriously, in fact, that they forgot how to pronounce the tetragrammaton altogether, and now it may be lost. People take names and labels so seriously. I have experienced more quarrelling over what an atheist or a feminist is, at times, than I have people addressing in any meaningdul way why this even matters, as they attempt to apply these labels to people who do not want them or reject them in favor of an alternate, and more suitable to them, term and ideology. Humanity names everything it comes into contact with. It seems we cannot help it. And yet when a person decides that their own given and established name is no longer suitable this is met with ridicule, fear or scorn, from the same type of people, I imagine, who could not accept that Cassius Clay had become Muhammed Ali. Or maybe it was just a name. Or maybe some fame is required to to make a new name fit for broad consumption. That seems a low thing. Or we could ask if the distinction between Arisitocles and Plato is trivial, or between Cassius Clay and Muhammed Ali or for Mohandas K. Ghandi and whatever became of him. Your name does not matter to me. I will take you by your conduct. This is my best means to know anyone. And I will call you what you like, and without prejudice or apprehension. My own name is nothing worth fighting over, Joseph will do. I have been doing with it. Its a nice one, and its soft. And it doesnt threaten me. I like who I was, maybe even more than who I have become. I happened upon myself quite accidentially, on my own proverbial road to Damascus. People who have never changed, who have never gone through some profound transvaluation will always find a reason why Paul should be called Saul. It helps them. But for those who have demonstrated to themselves that each little thing they learn adds to a new and ever-changing and largely indiscernible totality may think otherwise. The historian has a difficult task, interpreting history, properly framing it, giving it a beginning, middle, and end. Personal history is just as challenging for me - or so my attempt to find meaningful and consistent agreement with others who experienced events with me tells me. But I have a gift, a few actually; among them is my ability to embrace and incorporate new concepts into my ever-changing self; another is to, somewhat, acutely discern where I was with a given belief at different periods of my life and discern this in terms of how and why this changed to the position I presently hold. I have looked upon my selves; I can see where they hold. The way we conceive of the world matters - if we believe a God created it or not does; and if we can discern some way we ought to be from this understanding, or if there are no oughts, this matters too; just as those who might take themselves to be strict empiricists might (might) be disposed toward various species of relativism. Our ethics, our sense of meaning and purpose, our very being is understood from how we frame reality. External acknowledgement is only tenuously relevant. When someone asks you your name, you know what first comes to mind. Its an undeniable truth, no matter who you might lose to acknowledge it.
Posted on: Fri, 15 Aug 2014 21:27:10 +0000
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