What’s in a name?

I’ve spent a significant portion of my life studying the various belief systems of the world. Along the way, I’ve picked up more than a few customs and practices that different traditions use when speaking of the divine. One in particular seems to catch people’s attention: the way I write the Holy Name.

Many traditions write or speak the names of divinity in a way that expresses both respect and humility. Most folks are familiar with capitalizing both the names and the pronouns, but there are other, quieter rules of etiquette that have been passed down for centuries.

---

The Abrahamic Lens…

For example — the question I hear most often:

Why do you use a hyphen when you write “G-d”?

This comes from my studies in Judaism. Jews express reverence for the Holy Name by avoiding writing it in a form that could later be erased, burned, or casually discarded. Scrolls and texts containing the full Name aren’t simply thrown away; they’re placed in a genizah — a sacred repository — and eventually buried. Even today, a printed page from the internet that contains the Name shouldn’t be tossed in the trash. It’s a small gesture with a long memory behind it.

At Qumran — the site of the Dead Sea Scrolls — archaeologists found both master copies of Scripture, hidden away to protect them from the Romans, and “student copies” full of errors. Even those flawed texts weren’t thrown out; once a divine name appeared on the page, the scroll was treated with reverence. It’s the same impulse that later developed into the genizah tradition: sacred words aren’t casually destroyed.

Judaism isn’t the only faith with such customs. Muslims show similar reverence by adding subḥānahu wa taʿālā (“glorified and exalted be He”) after mentioning the Creator. Christians honor the Divine by capitalizing not only G-d’s Name but every pronoun that refers to Him. However it’s expressed, the intention is the same: humility, awe, and respect when speaking of the Holy.

---

Words of Power…

Words have power. When we call upon the divine, we use names — and each name becomes a doorway to the ineffable Source, even if different traditions use different words while pointing to the same reality.

And when it comes to expressing the divine, the parallels become even more striking:

• Judaism: The layered Names — Elohim (creative power), Adonai (Lordship), El Shaddai (Sustainer), Ein Sof (the Infinite) — and the Kabbalistic emanations — Shekhinah, Tiferet, Hokhmah, Binah — each revealing another ray of that same Light.
• Christianity: The Trinity — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — distinct yet indivisible, unity expressed through multiplicity.
• Islam: The 99 Names of Allāh, each a facet of divine mercy, justice, majesty, or compassion — performing a role remarkably similar to the sefirot: many attributes, one Source.
• Hinduism: Brahman, the formless divine reality, experienced through countless forms — Vishnu, Shiva, Devi — not separate gods, but different ways of approaching the Infinite.
• Buddhism: The Dharmakāya, the cosmic Buddha-nature present in all things, the ground of all awakening.
• Indigenous and Ancient Paths: The Great Spirit, the Tao, Ahura Mazda, Olodumare — each one a linguistic attempt to point toward the same overarching sky.

These are only the most familiar examples. We could easily continue through dozens of cultures and countless centuries — yet the pattern holds: every belief system, in its own tongue, tries to give shape to what is ultimately beyond naming. Giving something a name makes it more familiar, more graspable, more “knowable” to the human heart. The names differ, the languages differ, the imagery differs — but the reverence is the same.

---

All Roads…

Which brings me back to something I find myself repeating often:

Many Lamps, One Flame.

There are many paths up the mountain, many trails through the forest. They wind and bend, double back, and cross each other again and again. But in the end, every seeker, every tradition, every name for the Divine finds itself standing in the same clearing, before the same Light.

If this stays on your screen, perfect — electrons are wonderfully reverent. If you must print it, please don’t let it end its days next to a banana peel. Set it aside and dispose of it in the respectful manner these traditions teach us.