A reading from the Revelation of Saint John, chapter thirteen, with a verse from chapter two, and a verse from the prophet Isaiah, chapter forty-three.
And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads: and that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name. Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six.
And from chapter two. To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna, and will give him a white stone, and in the stone a new name written, which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it.
And from Isaiah. Fear not: for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine.
Here ends the reading.
Listen to one small phrase in that hard passage. It is the number of a man. People have spent centuries trying to turn that number into a name. They have pinned it on emperors and popes and presidents and neighbors. But the text does not give a name. It gives a count. Let him that hath understanding count, it says. It is arithmetic. It is what you get when you add a person up.
And notice what the number is for. The text tells us it is for buying and selling. No one may trade without it. So the mark is not a monster's signature burned into the skin for its own sake. It is a pass. It is the thing you must show at the counter before anyone will deal with you. It goes on the hand, which is what you work with, and on the forehead, which is what people see first. It is a system for deciding who gets served.
You know this system. You have stood at that counter.
You have been a case number. Someone on the telephone asked for it before they asked how you were. You have been a patient number on a plastic band around your wrist. You have been a claim, a file, a docket, a bed. Some of you have worn a number on your chest, and answered to it at count time, and learned not to expect your name. Some of you have been a score. A credit score. A test score. A risk score. A number that walked into the room before you did and told them who you were, and you never got to speak.
And some of you were numbered in a church. You were a tally of sins. You were a count of how many times you had failed, kept by people who said they kept no record of wrongs.
I am not going to tell you that every number is the mark of the beast. That would be foolish, and it would be unkind. The number on your chart helps a nurse give the right medicine to the right person. The number on your file may be how your help finds you. Keep your appointments. Take what you have been prescribed. Carry your card. A number can be a useful handle on a heavy door.
But a number is not a name, and the harm begins when someone forgets the difference, or when you do.
Here is the difference. A number tells where you fall in a line. It says how much, how many, how often, how long. It compares you. It can be sorted. It can be added to other numbers and averaged, and then you disappear into the average. A number never has to look at you. That is why systems love it. You can number ten thousand people without meeting one of them.
A name cannot be done from a distance. A name has to be said, and to say it, someone has to turn their face toward you. A name does not tell how much. It tells who. It cannot be averaged. No one is the mean of two names.
So hear what the prophet says God does. Not, I have counted thee. Not, I have assessed thee. I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine. And before that, two words. Fear not. Because God knows what it does to a person to be only counted. It makes them afraid. It makes them small. It makes them start to count themselves.
That is the part I want to stay with, because it is the quiet part. After enough years at the counter, you begin to carry the mark on the inside. You introduce yourself by your diagnosis. You know your worth by your balance. You remember your life as a sentence, so many years, so many days left. You lie awake and add yourself up, and the sum is always the same, and it is always short. The Revelation says it plainly. It is the number of a man. It is as high as human counting goes. Six, and six, and six, always reaching for seven and never arriving. If you measure yourself with that ruler, you will come up one short every time. The fault is not in you. That ruler cannot measure what you are.
Now, this church has its own way of reading these pages, and I will say clearly that it is our reading and not the plain sense of the text. We read that the one called a beast was given a wrong name by a frightened age, as the woman in scarlet was given a wrong name. We read Jesus there, and Mary Magdalene, each mislabeled, each still looking for the other. You do not have to hold that reading to hear this sermon. But if you do hold it, look at what follows. Even the number was something done to him. They counted him. They priced him at thirty pieces of silver. They hung him between two others and made him one of three. He knows what it is to be reduced to a figure in someone else's book.
And see what he does on the other side of it. In the Gospel according to John, chapter twenty, a woman stands weeping at a tomb. She does not know him. She takes him for the gardener. He does not explain himself or argue. The text gives us one word. Jesus saith unto her, Mary. And she turns. That is the whole resurrection for her, in two syllables. Someone said her name the way it was meant to be said, and she knew she was not lost.
The same Gospel says of the shepherd that he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out. He calls them by name, not by count, and he does not drive them from behind. That is how you are led out.
Then there is the white stone. To the one who overcomes, a white stone, and in the stone a new name written, which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it. Think what that means for you. There is a name for you that has never been in a file. No clerk has typed it. No court has read it out. No church has struck it from a roll. No one has ever used it against you, because no one else knows it. It cannot be looked up, or scored, or sold. It is kept between you and the one who gives it.
You do not earn it by getting your numbers up. The text says, to him that overcometh. And I think that for many of you overcoming is a small thing. It is getting through today without agreeing that the number is all you are. It is answering to the number at the counter, because you must, and refusing to answer to it in your heart.
So this Sabbath, do one small thing. Say your own name out loud, slowly, the way you would say the name of someone you love. If the name you were given was used to hurt you, then say the one you chose. And if you have none that fits yet, sit quiet, and know that one is already written and waiting, and that it is good.
Let us pray.
God who calls and does not count, you know each one listening now. You know the numbers they have carried, and how heavy they are. Take the count off their shoulders for this one day. Where they have been a case, let them be a person. Where they have been a score, let them be a face. Say their name to them in the quiet, as you said Mary in the garden, until they turn and know they are found. Keep the white stone safe for them, and keep them safe until they hold it. Fear not, you said. Help us to believe you. Amen.