Mohembo was no genius in grammer, or even English. But he remembers clearly a lesson in which he was taught: when refering to people, use "who;" when refering to animals or things (whether animate or inanimate) use "what." Correct or not, this made such an impression on him that it still guides his thinking to this day.
In parts of Papua New Guinea, Mohembo tells me, knowing someone’s real name gives power over them. So these names are kept as highly classified secrets by the parents and the individual in question. Here the modern idea of a “username” is very old and highly significant – this is the name given to the child for everyday use; it is the name by which others know her. It is the name in the passport. The real identity is kept secret. There is a hint of this reverence for a name among Christians arising from Peter’s Pentecost address in which he said, refering to Jesus, “salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.” (Acts 4:12) And those who cast out demons know the power of “the name of Jesus.”
In Old Testament times and possibly even today, devout Jews hesitate, even refuse, to say the name of God. God is a title not a name. The thought that uttering the real name of God and possibly “taking it in vain” thereby breaking a commandment was sufficient to avoid saying it at all. Today “dropping names” is a technique used by many to show an association with someone famous or powerful and so receive a little of that fame or influence themselves. Jesus by contrast told his followers that association with him and his name would most likely lead to opposition, distain, and real suffering. (John 15:15-21) At the same time, he promised to represent before God everyone who was prepared to represent him before men.
And Paul wrote: (Philippians 2:9-11 (NIV))
"Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father."
Where Mohembo currently lives, the Government has just made it easier for people to change their names, and to do so more than once. People seem to find real significance in their name – and want either to have a “good” name or get rid of a name that has negative associations.And yet...
Mohembo speaks of the irony in that in this and many other “western” countries our names are often not what we offer first to strangers – as it still is in Africa and Asia. The first thing westerners want to know is “What do you do? What is your profession? Where do you work?” And it is often that that we first talk about. We have slipped into a situation in which we present ourselves primarily as “units of production” associated with some economic sector or activity that is of importance to our country or our status. “I am a doctor,” “I am a lawyer” sound so much more impressive than “I am truck driver,” “I am a garbage collector” or even “Hi, I am Mohembo,” “I am Heather,” “I am Jimmy.” In other words the important question locally is "what is your title, what do you do?" and by implication "what is your socio-economic status?" rather than "Who are you? Who are you related to? Who are the people closest to you?"
And he is also fascinated that many people in his current home country present themselves by their given name alone. As if they don't think the family name is important, or that relationship with others (with the same name) is not relevant when introducing themselves. You are an individual existing alone, so there is no need to "involve" the rest of your family. Or perhaps the surname (rather call it that than "family" name) is a device to distinguish you the individual from other individuals with the same given name.
One argument that could be raised in favour of this modern tendency is that societies today wish to be seen as "meritocracies" rather than societies in which who you know is more important that what you know. It's a spurious argument because we are increasingly told to form social and professional networks, make personal connections, maintain and expand the "old boys' networks" and few of us seem to be immune to the power of social media and the need to master it "for our own good." So that who you know is becoming ever more important than what you know.
Mohembo takes his name from a village. Where the village got it’s name he doesn’t know, but quite possibly from the man who founded it. (More about this place in another blog entry). He finds no social roots in his name, a geographical but no historical anchorage, in contrast to his Spanish friend whose second name was his father’s first name, his third name was his grandfather’s first name, and so on … to a list of names that took half a page to write. This man knew who he was, because he knew his parentage and his heritage (in names) many generations back. He could go to the church records and find out about almost all of them - what they were like in general terms, how old they became, and from there could discover many other details. Mohembo on the other hand feels a sense of not really belonging to any lineage at all. This is especially hard to deal with in Africa where the sense of Ubuntu is strong – Ubuntu is a philosophy of identity that essentially says “I am because you are because we are.” We are not islands in a sea of humanity, we find our identity in our family and social relationships, and we contribute to the identity of others through those relationships.
So, how do you relate to your name? What is it to you? Is it just a two or three word phrase in your passport – easier at least to remember than a series of alphanumerics – or is it a source of influence (good or bad) on your character. Do you present yourself to others first as a person with a name and a social context, or as the holder of a job title, a unit of economic value, linked to an organisation that employs you? And how do you approach others – as people, humans who exist within families and communities, or as professions, as economic units of production, as owners of capital, as status holders, with claims to fame?
Are you, and do you want to be, a "who" or a "what?"
For Christians, meritocracy is useless. Relationship (to Jesus the Christ, and to the Father) is everything. As far as I know, the only "right" Christians have, described in the Scriptures, is "the right to be called the children of God" because they are "born of God" (John 1:12, NIV).
In parts of Papua New Guinea, Mohembo tells me, knowing someone’s real name gives power over them. So these names are kept as highly classified secrets by the parents and the individual in question. Here the modern idea of a “username” is very old and highly significant – this is the name given to the child for everyday use; it is the name by which others know her. It is the name in the passport. The real identity is kept secret. There is a hint of this reverence for a name among Christians arising from Peter’s Pentecost address in which he said, refering to Jesus, “salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.” (Acts 4:12) And those who cast out demons know the power of “the name of Jesus.”
In Old Testament times and possibly even today, devout Jews hesitate, even refuse, to say the name of God. God is a title not a name. The thought that uttering the real name of God and possibly “taking it in vain” thereby breaking a commandment was sufficient to avoid saying it at all. Today “dropping names” is a technique used by many to show an association with someone famous or powerful and so receive a little of that fame or influence themselves. Jesus by contrast told his followers that association with him and his name would most likely lead to opposition, distain, and real suffering. (John 15:15-21) At the same time, he promised to represent before God everyone who was prepared to represent him before men.
And Paul wrote: (Philippians 2:9-11 (NIV))
"Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father."
Where Mohembo currently lives, the Government has just made it easier for people to change their names, and to do so more than once. People seem to find real significance in their name – and want either to have a “good” name or get rid of a name that has negative associations.And yet...
Mohembo speaks of the irony in that in this and many other “western” countries our names are often not what we offer first to strangers – as it still is in Africa and Asia. The first thing westerners want to know is “What do you do? What is your profession? Where do you work?” And it is often that that we first talk about. We have slipped into a situation in which we present ourselves primarily as “units of production” associated with some economic sector or activity that is of importance to our country or our status. “I am a doctor,” “I am a lawyer” sound so much more impressive than “I am truck driver,” “I am a garbage collector” or even “Hi, I am Mohembo,” “I am Heather,” “I am Jimmy.” In other words the important question locally is "what is your title, what do you do?" and by implication "what is your socio-economic status?" rather than "Who are you? Who are you related to? Who are the people closest to you?"
And he is also fascinated that many people in his current home country present themselves by their given name alone. As if they don't think the family name is important, or that relationship with others (with the same name) is not relevant when introducing themselves. You are an individual existing alone, so there is no need to "involve" the rest of your family. Or perhaps the surname (rather call it that than "family" name) is a device to distinguish you the individual from other individuals with the same given name.
One argument that could be raised in favour of this modern tendency is that societies today wish to be seen as "meritocracies" rather than societies in which who you know is more important that what you know. It's a spurious argument because we are increasingly told to form social and professional networks, make personal connections, maintain and expand the "old boys' networks" and few of us seem to be immune to the power of social media and the need to master it "for our own good." So that who you know is becoming ever more important than what you know.
Mohembo takes his name from a village. Where the village got it’s name he doesn’t know, but quite possibly from the man who founded it. (More about this place in another blog entry). He finds no social roots in his name, a geographical but no historical anchorage, in contrast to his Spanish friend whose second name was his father’s first name, his third name was his grandfather’s first name, and so on … to a list of names that took half a page to write. This man knew who he was, because he knew his parentage and his heritage (in names) many generations back. He could go to the church records and find out about almost all of them - what they were like in general terms, how old they became, and from there could discover many other details. Mohembo on the other hand feels a sense of not really belonging to any lineage at all. This is especially hard to deal with in Africa where the sense of Ubuntu is strong – Ubuntu is a philosophy of identity that essentially says “I am because you are because we are.” We are not islands in a sea of humanity, we find our identity in our family and social relationships, and we contribute to the identity of others through those relationships.
So, how do you relate to your name? What is it to you? Is it just a two or three word phrase in your passport – easier at least to remember than a series of alphanumerics – or is it a source of influence (good or bad) on your character. Do you present yourself to others first as a person with a name and a social context, or as the holder of a job title, a unit of economic value, linked to an organisation that employs you? And how do you approach others – as people, humans who exist within families and communities, or as professions, as economic units of production, as owners of capital, as status holders, with claims to fame?
Are you, and do you want to be, a "who" or a "what?"
For Christians, meritocracy is useless. Relationship (to Jesus the Christ, and to the Father) is everything. As far as I know, the only "right" Christians have, described in the Scriptures, is "the right to be called the children of God" because they are "born of God" (John 1:12, NIV).
