Friday, August 15, 2008

TheKempest.

I've written about my name before, but I was thinking about it some more tonight (as I was laying in bed, unable to sleep. Again.).

It all started last week when I (finally) got my Xbox 360 hooked up to Xbox Live, their internet service. On the console, you can choose a Gamertag. I chose TheKemp. The idea is that you then connect to Xbox Live and you can use the same name. Of course, when I chose TheKemp, I thought, "No one else in the world is named Kemp. There's no way this one will be taken."

It was.

Microsoft would not let me be "TheKemp" because there already was a "TheKemp" out there somewhere.

So I had to one up this "TheKemp." I would not allow him (or her. Who knows?) to take my name! My new Gamertag? TheKempest. I am much more Kemp than any other Kemp in the world. (Unfortunately, it looks like I'm trying to wordplay both my name and "tempest" like some middle schooler who acts like he's really good at Halo but really is quite mediocre.)

Which got me thinking: what does that mean? What does it mean to be more Kemp than anyone else in the world? Do I associate certain qualities as being Kemp and certain qualities as being unKemp (or unkempt. ha.)?

I know that my name does mean a lot to me. I'm glad that I can't easily find any other person on Facebook with the name of Kemp. I'm glad that when I meet people, I am the only way they can define the word. They have never known a Kemp before me and chances are that they will never know a Kemp after me. My self will never be separated from the word "Kemp" by other Kemps out there as the expecations of Michaels and Johns are.

(Side notes: I just wrote my name more than I ever have in my life. What a weird name! An M and a P right next to each other? Who decided to name their child that? What the heck...)

All this slightly disassociated narcissistic talk to come down to this point: God has a name. In Exodus 3, Moses is sent on a mission by the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Moses falters several times in the conversation, but eventually asks, "Suppose I go to the Israelites and say to them, 'The God of your fathers has sent me to you,' and they ask me, 'What is his name?' Then what shall I tell them?"

In the religions of the ancient near east, knowing a name gave you power over that person or force. Knowing my name gives you some power over me even still. At work, I freak out all the time when people pick my name off my name tag. I am immediately more friendly (mostly because I'm not sure if I really do know them or not). When people shout your name from across a crowded room, no matter how likely it is that there are others that share your name, you turn in that direction. Moses is sort of asking for that kind of power, only much more intense.

And the Creator of the Universe, Elohim, responds: "I am who I am. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: 'I AM has sent me to you.'"

God's name is I Am. His very name speaks of existence. Pure, unadulterated, independent, noncontingent existence.

There is none of Descartes' famous, "I think..." before it. He just is.

Two thoughts out of this (both more or less half baked):
1. When we say "I am," are we using the Lord's name in vain? Are we willing ourselves into existence, as if that were possible? Are we, through the very nature of our own language, calling God from across the room every time we say something about ourselves? Does God turn his head attentively only to find out we were talking to the other "I Am" in the room? (P.S. There is no other I Am.)

2. (This one's even less baked...) Does our existence cry the name of God? If he is existence and being, then we, through our contingent being constantly call attention back to the one without whom we would not exist. Through this (obnoxiously deep, convoluted, and) philosophical lens, it makes sense that the purpose of human life is to glorify God. We are, after all, merely borrowing from his existence...

3. (I know I said two, but then I reread the top and this point has to be made at least a little...) What attributes are distinctly God's? As I was reflecting on what made me the "Kempest" of all the Kemps, what makes I AM the most I AMest of all the I ams?

This question is, of course, answereable (at least a little) through a good theology book, but it does merit more thought.

Later.

P.S. Fun idea to try with your friends! Take the ideas from my reflection on my name earlier in this entry and think about how God feels in the same situation. Good times.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

four thing (because “two” will not suffice here):

1.Your name haunts me. It shows up everywhere.
2.…To think we are made in his image…
3.Psalm 119:55. Context: treasuring God’s Words. Do we remember? Do we treasure?
4.Does this mean you have more songs for Rock Band now?