As I write this, Wendy and I are in Ontario, enjoying the Stratford Shakespeare Festival. Yesterday, we were stunned by an extraordinary staging of “The Tempest;” we laughed ourselves silly last night at the marvelously ridiculous “Something Rotten,” and look forward this weekend to productions of “Othello” and “A Midsummer Nights’s Dream.” Tonight, we are seeing a new work, “The King James Bible Play,” which as a Bible Guy I am particularly intrigued to experience!
Being in Canada in this political season feels fraught to us, given our president’s declaration of a trade war against our longtime ally and peaceful neighbor to the north. Although I feel I need to apologize on behalf of my country, not a single Canadian has raised this issue with us. We have been treated universally with kindness and respect, especially by our hosts at Acrylic Dreams, the beautiful B&B where we are staying. Then this morning, I learned that Mr. Trump has had the unmitigated gall to issue an executive order declaring that Lake Ontario is to be called instead “Lake America.”
This is of course performative nonsense. Apart from the very narrow circle he can actually affect (the Interior Department has been told to update its Geographic Names Information System to reflect his change), the president’s bullying, petulant “order” is meaningless: just as, apart from his sycophants, no one either internationally or in this country refers to the Gulf of Mexico any differently, despite the president’s declaration of a name change there.
So why am I so incensed about this? Wendy and I have been impressed and moved by the attention and respect paid, by tour guides, in park signage, and even in announcements before the plays we have seen, to First Nations people. On a boat tour of the islands off Tobermory, on the tip of Lake Huron’s Bruce Peninsula, we learned that the Ojibway people have lived on the land and fished in the lake for seven thousand years!
The name “Ontario” itself is very old. The first European settlers and explorers already heard that name in the tongues of Native American peoples. In the Iroquois language, it was called kanadario, meaning “shining water.” According to Pierre Picard, Great Chief of the Wendat nation, in their tongue Ontarïio’ means “the lake is beautiful, great.” So rejecting that name is an insult, not only (as the president childishly intended) to the Canadian province of Ontario, but to the Native American peoples who first loved and named these beautiful bodies of water (here, from Georgian Bay off the Bruce).
Names matter: for the people of ancient Israel, as for the first peoples of this continent. As readers of Scripture have long observed, in Genesis 1 God creates by speaking. John’s Gospel begins with this insight (“In the beginning was the Word”), and goes on to identify Jesus as that very creative word of God: “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth”(John 1:14).
God’s creation begins with a word—more precisely, two words in Hebrew: yehi ‘or: “let light be” (Gen 1:3). Having been given God’s permission to exist, light floods the emerging cosmos: wayehi ‘or, “and light was.” But the creation of light is also an act of naming. God separates the light from the darkness, and gives them both names: “God named the light Day and the darkness Night. There was evening and there was morning: the first day” (Gen 1:5).
This is a common feature of the first three days in Genesis 1:1–2:4a: God names Day and Night in 1:5; Sky in 1:8; and Land and Sea in 1:10. Although the naming formula is not used for the creation of humans on Day Six, Genesis 5:1-2 (like Gen 1:1–2:4a, a priestly text), which recapitulates Gen 1:26-28, states
This is the record of Adam’s descendants. On the day God created humanity, he made them to resemble God and created them male and female. He blessed them and called them [better, “named them”] humanity [Hebrew ‘adam] on the day they were created.
Who we are is God’s gift to us, for God has pronounced our names from the beginning of creation. So it is no accident that often in Scripture, a new call from God comes with a new name from God: Abram becomes Abraham (Genesis 17:5), Sarai becomes Sarah (Genesis 17:15), Jacob becomes Israel (Genesis 32:28), Simon becomes Peter (Matthew 16:18); Saul becomes Paul (Acts 13:9). Today, let us remember and celebrate God’s gift of identity, and pray for the wisdom and insight to grant that gift to one another: and specifically, to the people who walked and hunted and fished and farmed these lands generations before any of our ancestors set foot here.
AFTERWORD:
In my original posting, I in my geographical ignorance moved the Bruce from Lake Huron to Lake Ontario: a particularly galling error in a post about the importance of names and naming! My sincere apologies to the people of Ontario.













As this unit unfolds, the prophet continues to draw distinctions between this promised King and other, previous kings. The humble mount in Zech 9:9 derives from a long tradition of royal processions (Meyers and Meyers 1993, 129): by riding an ass rather than a war horse or chariot, the king showed humility, and declared that he came in peace. But this time, the prophet declares, this will be more than theater! This king truly is humble, and not only comes in peace, but comes to bring peace: a promise our war-torn world desperately needs to hear!










I was recently reminded of Christian novelist and essayist Frederick Buechner’s whimsical take on Goliath, from his book 
![Title: Tapestry of David slaying Goliath [Click for larger image view]](https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/cdri/jpeg/nat-cathedral-goliath.jpg)















