The New Name
The Stone With the New Name
It may feel like nothing
But I tell you, it is everything—this
Slow-bearing seed of your becoming.
The way the rain says now or not yet or wait a little longer
How the sun comes with time,
Just in time.
How the breeze is never too harsh or too gentle
And the earth has been waiting for you to simply die to what was
So her aliveness can teach you what is.
If you listen, you will hear angels
In the rose garden, singing softly
The syllables of your new name—this deep-seeded mystery.
Buried since the dawn of time, unearthed now;
A stone, pure and white—covered in blooms,
Radiant with light. Strange and new:
How it becomes you.
In February of this year, I dreamed of stones.
In my first dream, I am looking down at a smooth, milky white stone in my hand. I notice it is translucent, but not transparent—similar to a moonstone, with striations of light grey and different shades of white rippling through. I ask aloud what the stone means, and the verse “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face” is given as the answer. I have the sense that this stone represents something important, something I see dimly now, but will one day see clearly.
The next night, I dreamed again. The same oval stone rests in my cupped palm, cool and gleaming with subdued light. Again, I ask, “What does this mean?” Once more, I am answered: “And I will give to each one a white stone, and on the stone will be engraved a new name that no one understands except the one who receives it.” I turn the stone over in my hand and marveled at its beauty and complexity—how every grey striation and shade of white awakens, becoming most fully itself when caught by the light.
***
Last week, I wrote about my journey of learning to rest in the identity that God alone can impart. God is the one who knows us most intimately, who is our home and refuge, who loves us in a way that no job, place, or person in this world can satisfy. God is the one who initiates us into our unshakeable inheritance as his Beloved, a destiny that no one can snatch out of our hands and cannot be earned or altered. “Beloved” is the name Jesus receives before beginning his public ministry, before dying on the cross.
As author and artist Jan Richardson teaches,
“Beloved is where we begin.”
I used to fear that finding my identity in Christ would lead to becoming a robot, becoming the same as every other Christian. If we are all equally Beloved, does individual identity matter? But God has been showing me this year that as we lean into our identity as Beloved, we actually become more ourselves—not less. God is not interested in creating an army of good little Christian replicas of each other. When we discover more and more of God’s character, he shows us which aspects of his character we were designed to uniquely reflect as his Image bearers.
This strange yet beautiful verse in Revelation describes the ultimate revelation of our identity—a name chosen by God himself:
Anyone with ears to hear must listen to the Spirit and understand what he is saying to the churches. To everyone who is victorious I will give some of the manna that has been hidden away in heaven. And I will give to each one a white stone, and on the stone will be engraved a new name that no one understands except the one who receives it. (Revelation 2:17)
This verse has always mystified and intrigued me, especially because of how the our new name is written. The name we are to receive is not hastily written with sharpie, as if God took one look at us when we came to heaven, made a game-time decision, and scribbled our new, eternal name in on the back of some random rock.
No.
This stone is engraved with our new name, which indicates deliberateness and intention over a long period of time.
Imagine with me:
On the day you are born, the first letter of your new name is lightly outlined on stone. With each passing year, the name becomes clearer, the engraving a bit deeper. At the end of your life, you are standing at the edge of eternity face to face with Jesus, and he hands you a white stone with your new, true name upon it—a name you have known in part all along, but now see clearly. A name only you understand because only you know the secret triumphs, pain, shame, glories, and redemption that etched this name in stone, that shaped you and named you. Only you…and God.
I wonder if when we look down at the white stone in our hands, we will experience what Paul meant when he wrote:
For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. (1 Corinthians 13:12)
Perhaps then we will finally see how God has known every ache and break and beautiful beat of our heart. This is the stone that redeems every tear, that triumphs over the darkness we have known with a single word etched from this very same darkness, now gleaming in white.
On earth, we have only seen God and ourselves as if looking in a warped mirror. One day, we will see God and ourselves fully, once and for all, face to face. The misty veil through which we have not been able to see the whole story will disappear. Nothing between us and God, nothing between us and our true selves, nothing between our true selves and others. Life as it was always meant to be.
When life gets confusing and your identity feels unclear, remember this:
It is your eternal destiny to know as you are known, to see as you are seen, to love as you are loved.
You have a name.