Given, not chosen. . .

Names, like pronouns, have become agents of our own self-expression.  Though they were once the domain of the society to know how to address you, they have become more the domain of the autonomous self, another avenue of our own identity.  I wish we could forget this. I wish we could go back to the days when family members provided the source for the names we gave to our children instead of some ridiculous penchant to saddle the child with something unique or strange, a name no one else had ever known.  I admit some sympathy for those countries with name police who must give approval before a birth is registered and the name duly given to the child.  I am not resigned to the desire of parents to give novel spellings to old names and new names which defy pronunciation to their offspring.  I suppose I should be happy they are even having children and cut them some slack about the actual name they give the child.  But I won't.

Names are given to us, not chosen by us.  Even nicknames are given to us and not the result of our own invention or choice.  We need to remember that wisdom in an age destined to play with names as if they were Scrabble tiles.  Sometimes our ignorance shows through.  A friend once described to me a girl she encountered while student teaching.  Her mother (was there a father in the picture?) had decided that she liked the name phonetically spelled VaGeenA but in her foolishness saddled the poor kid with the name Vagina.  A year later the girl had it legally changed to just Gina.  Unfortunately, no one fined her mother for her ignorance or foolishness and maybe she never actually got it.  Names are a gift but not necessarily a kind one.

Ever since I was old enough to understand my name was Larry, I complained to my parents (one of German and one of Swedish extraction) that I could have been somebody in life if only they would have given me a better name -- Lawrence even!  Once someone pointed out that Sir Lawrence Olivier chose to be called Larry.  Oops.  Well, at least he had the formal name on his birth certificate.  I thought of all the interesting names in my family's history (on both sides) and of all that I might have been, but I did not choose that name.  It was given to me.  On the list of names and their popularity over the years, you might notice that nobody names their kids Larry anymore and so someday I might just be a rarity -- before I take my last breath and it gets inscribed on my tombstone.

Names are how we know one another.  No matter how lofty or plain, our first names are the start of every acquaintance before it has the promise of friendship.  Husband and wife repeat each other's names with their vows and promises of love and fidelity.  The baby has to get a name before he can head home from the hospital.  You even need a name to get a Social Security number.  When we pray for people at the altar, we generally use their first names instead of some name with a Mr. or Mrs. before it.  When we pray for presidents and monarchs, governors and bishops, we call them by their given name.  Donald.  Charles. William.  Roger.  In baptism we do not ask how this child will be named but how this child IS named.  Don't make the pastor ask "how do I pronounce that?"

God knows our names.  He knows which Susan or Fred we are talking about as we speak their names out loud in the dyptich -- without having to delineate the one with hemorrhoids or the one having gall bladder surgery.  There is something comforting in this.  We ought to treat names with some respect and we ought to respect those whom we name with enough respect to give them a respectable name.  A real name.  Joseph and Mary did that.  They called His name Jesus (well, not really Jesus but the Hebrew form behind it Jeshua).  We ought to follow their example and thank them for not giving Jesus a name they had invented because it sounded nice and they thought nobody else would ever choose it.  Jesus is the name above all names not because the combination of letters is unique but because He is the only who died for us and rose for us so that we might be dead to sin and alive to everlasting life.  The name does not have to be unique.  The person always is -- at least to God.