In the tiny epistle of 3 John, a man named Demetrius is mentioned as having “received a good testimony from everyone and from the truth itself” (v.12 – ESV). This name is mentioned elsewhere in the New Testament, although it (presumably) does not refer to the same person. In the history of the Acts (19:24, 38) a silversmith named Demetrius leads the charge against Paul when his and his fellow craftsmen’s idol-making business is threatened by the gospel of the one, true God.
Maybe you’ve never known anyone named Demetrius, but believe it or not, I have – a Chinese girl, actually, who had somehow chosen this as her “English” name. We were introduced to her by a Sino-Australian English teacher/missionary named Ann.
Ann was a woman of great energy and conviction who favored a charismatic expression of faith and who downplayed the necessity of water baptism as a part of the conversion experience. She had led Demetrius in a prayer of “acceptance of Jesus as her personal Lord and Savior” and then introduced her to us, hoping that she would be able to join our small, student-based house church. We obliged, of course, but only upon two conditions: first, she needed to be baptized; second, she needed to change her English name.
See, I had never noticed the reference in 3 John (and didn’t bother to check a concordance), so based on the verses in Acts, I said there was no way that a female Christian should be named after an idol-crafting man. Besides, this girl was already stricken with the misfortune of having one eye that seemed perpetually red and swollen. Having such an ugly name from such a terrible person could only make matters worse. Why not change her name to something more palatable, like Deborah?
But Demetrius (who would in fact come to be known as Deborah) was hurt. She liked her English name – liked the sound of it, she said. Ann was offended, too. She wasn’t sure why we insisted so strongly that “Deborah” be called Deborah – and she was certainly annoyed by our insistence that the newly-named Deborah would not be properly considered a Christian until after being baptized. I argued, unswervingly and at some length, about both issues – having ample biblical evidence at my fingertips and abundant arrogance in my heart. Eventually, (perhaps Nevertheless) both Ann and Deborah agreed to our terms, submitted to our conditions, and joined our fellowship.
As we got to know her, we learned about strange boyfriends and questionable jobs – dating more than one much-older African man and working for a time as a sort of barmaid. We let her know, in no uncertain terms, that we did not approve of these behaviors. She felt ashamed and promised to do better.
It wasn’t until years later that I happened to come across that verse in 3 John – the one that effectively exonerates the name Demetrius, honoring this second man as an exemplary brother. But by that time, it was too late. Our Demetrius/Deborah had long since left the church, and apparently left the faith. She somehow never felt accepted. Not by us, and tragically, not by God.
I wish I could talk to her again. I would apologize for many of the things I said and for most of the way I acted. And I would make sure that, above all else, she understood and experienced the gospel of God’s grace and compassion and love.
[BTW, When she left China, Ann gave us a gift – a DVD movie about a foreign missionary to China whose Chinese name, given to her by the locals, means “True Love”; and also, a small pamphlet entitled “Overcoming Legalism”.]
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