My sixth-grade students and I have been looking at the story of Ra this week. It is an Egyptian creation legend. From a vast sea emerges an egg; from the egg emerges Ra, who announces his being and therefore is. He names the gods of heaven and earth and then creates people. Seeing their helplessness, he steps down from the heavens, takes human form, and lives among them as their pharaoh.

One of the questions accompanying this lesson designed by my colleague asked the kids to compare this story to a similar myth or legend. Faced with this question, they gave me blank stares. So I launched into the Bible as Literature for Middle School Kids in Three Minutes and, oops, did not leave God out of it. I told them that in the Judeo-Christian text, God appears from an immense darkness and, like Ra, begins naming things. The things he names become their names and the world takes shape and lives.

What?

If I call you a rose, you will feel elegant and beautiful, beloved. If I call you ragweed, you will feel ugly and unwanted, miserable.

Oh.

Such is the importance of language. Here begins life. Here begins your life.

Both the Egpytian and Judeo-Christian stories go on to talk about how God deals with ungrateful, treacherous humans. At the end of the day in both stories, mercy trumps righteous anger.

In the Egyptian story, Ra is ready to wipe everyone off the face of the earth until one of the lesser gods steps in and reminds him not everybody is a bad, uhm, egg. Righ, Ra says. So he sends his daughter, Shekhmet the Slayer, to sort good from evil. However, she takes a liking to killing off the bad guys. Ra's mercy is just, so he devises a plan to get her drunk and thus subdue her.

When she calms down, he names her Hathor the Comforter of People. From Slayer to Comforter. It's possible?

It's possible.

Mercy in the Bible takes the shape of a great Teacher whose lessons in kindness cost him his life that we might better appreciate the beauty and wonder of life itself, of each other, of all creation. The Gospel writer John calls him the Word. And so he is, as he was at the beginning.

We become our words. It's that wildly simple.

The lesson at school reminded me of the thousand and one times my mother told me to watch my mouth. God bless her wisdom.