The Big Ten: Names

This commandment is less about policing one's vocabulary and more about protecting God’s reputation in the world.

The Christmas Story, film, 1983

Love is the barometer. If you invoke God’s name and the fruit of your actions isn’t love, then it isn’t God. And it certainly isn’t Christianity. 

You could probably guess by the title of my book, $h!t Jesus Says, that I have a relationship with naughty words.

​I understand their offensive nature. But honestly, I have never thought they were bad—if used in the right context.

Spill hot coffee on your lap? Somethings going fly out.

Bang your head on a tree branch while mowing the lawn? An F-bomb will drop. 

Humans have created so many colorful words for those moments. Why would we wish to waste them?

With that said, there’s one word I grew up avoiding at all costs. Not just because I can still taste the bar of Ivory soap in my mouth.

Somewhere along the way I was told that even saying “Oh my God” would get me a one-way ticket straight to hell.
 
Even though I no longer believe that…some things still linger. 

​We live in a culture where God’s name gets thrown around like salt on French fries. And the more casually it’s used, the less sacred it seems to become. Which is why today’s commandment, in our Big Ten series, is so important for us to understand better. It reads:

You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not acquit anyone who misuses his name.                                                           ​                Exodus 20:7

​There’s a saying, you know your Irish if your parents begin yelling at you with “Jesus, Joseph and Mary…” And if that offends you, then you’re probably grew up Baptist.

Or like I did, you were taught not to mix God’s name with anything…especially “damn.” But given this text, it’s hard for me to imagine God is standing around holding a cosmic swear jar.
 
This commandment is bigger than cussing out the couch when you stub your toe. Something more dangerous.

Like St. Augustine wrote, “Do not think you have kept the commandment if you merely avoid blasphemy with your lips. For you take God’s name in vain whenever you call yourself a Christian but do not live as one.”

Sixteen-hundred years later that still cuts deep.
 
Here’s what we know. To the ancient Hebrews, God’s name wasn’t just a label—it was presence, power, identity. The name YHWH was so holy it wasn’t even spoken aloud. Instead, Jews said Adonai (“Lord”) as a way of honoring God’s transcendence.

To misuse the name meant more than careless speech; it meant mixing God with empty promises, false oaths, or violent agendas.
 
Today, it’s the equivalent of putting God’s name on money. Or invoking God’s name for propaganda purposes. While it’s easy to point fingers, let’s not pretend the church is innocent.

We have a long, dark history where God’s name was invoked to bless crusades and inquisitions. Armies marched into Jerusalem with the cry, “Deus vult!”—“God wills it!”—as if Christ himself were swinging the sword.
 
And how many preachers twisted Scripture to defend slavery? Or thundered God’s judgment from pulpits to justify lynchings?

How many Christians fell silent as trains carried millions to death camps during the Holocaust. Or as families are torn apart by the cruelty of executive orders?
 
Again, this commandment is less about policing one's vocabulary and more about protecting God’s reputation in the world.

The third commandment is a wakeup call for us all. Because right now there’s some politician slapping God’s name on a policy that crushes the poor. That’s breaking the third commandment.
 
Somewhere, right now, there’s a church using God’s name to justify excluding someone from communion simply because of who they love. That’s the wrongful use of God’s name.
 
When we baptize our personal prejudices and grudges in the name of God—this commandment says that’s a no-no. And this should worry us, because we may be doing it without even realizing it.

You’ve probably heard the saying, “Love the sinner, hate the sin.” It seems innocent enough, …
but how many times has it been used as a license to despise the very people God loves?
 
Now, you might be thinking, “How will I know if I’m misusing God's name in a way that will get me in trouble?”

If you’re not sure, just ask: Is this love?

Love is the barometer. If you invoke God’s name and the fruit of your actions isn’t love, then it isn’t God. And it certainly isn’t Christianity. 

Like St. Augustine warned, you can’t just claim Christ’s name and refuse what it stands for.
 
Jesus says the way to measure faithfulness is simple: “You will know them by their fruits” (Matt. 7:20). And what is that fruit? That fruit is love.

Jesus was clear, “They will know you belong to me by the way you love one another” (John 13:35).
 
Paul drives the point home: “The only thing that counts is faith working through love” (Gal. 5:6). And at the end of the day, when everything else fades, “faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love” (1 Cor. 13:13).  

And John straight out states, “Those who say, ‘I love God,’ and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars…they do not know God, for God is love” (1 John 4:20).
 
If you wish to protect God’s name from being misused or dragged through the mud then live in a way that makes God’s name synonymous with kindness, mercy, forgiveness, and justice.

As Richard Rohr says, “The best criticism of the bad is the practice of the better.”
 
Like Jesus has already told us, all the laws and prophecies fall under this action: love God, love your neighbor as you love yourself.

According to Paul, “Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law” (Rom. 13:10). That’s what Christ is all about. And what must be the defining mark of Christianity. Not just speaking God’s name—but embodying it.
 
Jesus shows us how to become the manifestation of God’s love: healing the broken. Dining with the outcast. Forgiving and loving those who mock him.

If you want to bear God’s name faithfully then simply love God. Love others. And serve both. This isn’t just a slogan; it’s a way of life. The very way of Christ.
 
So maybe the question for us isn’t, “Am I saying God’s name in vain?” But “When people hear me speak it what do they see?” Is it love? Or judgment? Generosity or fear? God’s welcoming embrace, or a closed door?
 
In the intro of my book, I tell the story about a guy named Don who asked if I would take him to church. He was working the 12 Steps, and had no experience with religion of any kind. And needed a wing man. On the way there, I asked him why he asked me. His answer was surprising.
 
He said, “You’re the only person I met who talked about God without saying damn after it.” Again, this commandment isn’t about censorship—it’s about showing up as God’s incarnate glory. It’s about living in such a way that when people hear the name of God, they think of hope, they find belonging, they experience compassion, and discover the truth.
 
If your testimony of God’s great name shrinks love, if it divides families, or justifies violence against anyone, then you’re abusing God’s name. It’s the same to call yourself a Christian while refusing the way of Jesus. That too is taking God’s name in vain.
 
As Paul reveals, Christ is “the image of the invisible God” (Col. 1:15). To bear his name is to bear God’s very likeness in the world.

So, when we forgive as he forgave, welcome as he welcomed, heal as he healed, and serve as he served—then we don’t just avoid misusing God’s name. We make it holy again.
 
That’s our call: to bear God’s holy name in such a way that the world sees God’s glory in and through us.

So, let’s go out into Anamesa knowing that every kind word we offer, every generous act that feeds or forgives, every stranger welcomed, every debt forgiven, every sick person cared for, every captive freed becomes building blocks for a community of love—a holy and sacred space where we reclaim God’s reputation and live a life that radiates Christlike love.