Emmanuel, God is With Us: A Christmas Reflection on Naming

Good tidings to you, my friends!  Rejoice and be glad!

I hope this very, very tardy post finds each of you well and blessed by a Holy Christmas.  Today I offer for your consideration a few of my own reflections, thoughts which have but lately occurred to me, though some of their beginnings have been with me a long time now.  (Please note that the following reflects only opinions that I hold and suppositions I have made, and as such are liable to be in error.  Corrections, should you deem them necessary or warranted, I would gladly accept. )

In light of the coming among us of He-Who-Is-Named "God-With-Us," I propose to refer anew to the oft-parroted question: what's in a name?  It seems to me that in our present age too few of us give thought to the real and quite serious implications of this question, and too few understand how true it is that "A good name is more desirable than great riches" (Proverbs 22:1).  (Note: though this verse in context seems to me to refer more to one's "name" in the sense of one's reputation - as opposed to in the sense of one's literal, given name - I think it is still applicable here.)

Before we ask what is "in" a name, I think it is first appropriate to ask: what is a name?  Is it simply a label, a word by which something can be spoken of?  That a person's name does serve to identify him, to separate him from others and point him out in a crowd, is, I think, not contested.  We need labels to sort out "who's who," and names do a good job of serving this purpose.  But names, I think, are not merely labels.  Or at least not labels in the sense of a brand-name sticker on a package of cereal; human names, angelic names, God's name - these names are names of beings, of realities that are persons rather than objects, and that go far beyond simple identification.  These names are meant to signify a being's essence.

Names are meant to convey knowledge.  And individuality.  And personhood.  They indicate man's unique connection to other men, to the angels, and to God.  Indeed, we take our names - in fact the whole concept of naming anything - ultimately from God.  Recall how in Genesis God names the different parts of creation, and then, in what I regard as a very grave yet wonderful gift to man, lets man name the beasts and birds?  (It is interesting to note that this is done in the context of man being given dominion over creation; could we say then, that giving or knowing a name gives one - if only in a small way - a kind of dominion over another?  Perhaps this only means "dominion" in the sense of knowing another, but still - possessing and giving names are in my mind undoubtedly powerful things.)

A good name, therefore, should signify something of the reality of the person and their relationship to other beings (such as, for instance, members of their family and/or other forebears, historical and spiritual - this is part of why I am highly in favor of naming children after saints, but I will not bore you with that discussion now).  A true name would not only signify but actually express the whole reality, the whole essence, of the person.

In the Holy Scriptures, we find God Himself not only naming but also renaming parts of his creation - I am thinking specifically of individuals whom he has called for a specific purpose, or to whom he makes a promise: Jacob is renamed Israel, Saul becomes Paul, Abram and Sarai are Abraham and Sarah, and - perhaps most significantly - Simon becomes Peter (meaning "rock" - a name which, according to what I have been taught, was previously a term applied to God alone).  It seems to me that in these instances the people God renames had good names before, but they receive better ones in their place.  I say "better" because these names tend to reflect more perfectly the role God has assigned to each - thus, it would seem that the names express more fully the person's essence.

Still, though, I do not say these better names were what one could call "true" names, because it is not wholly clear that this is the final change in name that will take place for these people, or that their new earthly name is the ultimate expression of their whole nature.  In Revelation 2:17, we read: "Whoever has ears ought to hear what the Spirit says to the churches.  To the victor I shall give some of the hidden manna; I shall also give a white amulet upon which is inscribed a new name, which no one knows except the one who receives it." Now, I do not pretend that I understand more than the barest fraction of Revelation, a wildly enthralling but exceedingly perplexing book of the Bible, and certainly make no attempt to declare what this verse certainly means.  Nevertheless, I think this verse could possibly indicate that those who attain Heaven are given a name made for them by God Himself.  God, the maker of our essences both as human beings and specifically as individuals, would thus be bestowing on us a term which denotes that nature, that essence, most perfectly.  This name therefore, should it actually exist, would be a "true name" indeed.  

For these and other reasons, then, I would argue strongly that a name - even a simple, ordinary, given-by-your-parents type of earthly name - is an intimate part of a person and can affect not only aspects of one's life such as self-esteem but indeed more importantly who one becomes.  For myself (and perhaps this is just an outgrowth of my fascination with names; take it as you will) I have long had a strange, strong and almost unexplainable desire to "live up to my name" - to be and to become my name, in a sense.  In my own experience, the mere fact that I was given a good name with a holy meaning has acted as a spur to further press me towards a virtuous end that, though I am obliged to seek it anyway, I do not think I would otherwise have felt such a burning longing to possess.  It is as if I want it because I recognize it to be something that should always be a part of me.  Indeed, it should be me.  I should be it.  My essence, though not identical with my name, should be expressed through it.  The word which people use when they call upon me should actually call upon me, and not just upon a label that has come to be associated with me.  (For the record, the name "Caitlin" is the Gaelic form of "Catherine" and is generally agreed to mean "pure" or "pure one.")

Well, I have long lost the brief, two-thought post that this was supposed to be.  Instead I feel I have created the beginnings of a book, if I ever find time enough to write it.  I have much more to say, particularly on the concept of "true" names, which even the old Norse peoples recognized (if my memory serves), but for now I will leave you with these thoughts.

I won't presume to tell you what to name your children, should you have any, but I will advise you to be careful of how you do so.  There are better and worse ways.  I would dare to say there are even good and evil ways (it is not insignificant that part of the Baptismal Rite is the priest or deacon asking the parents what name they are giving their child -- and though the Church, to the best of my knowledge, no longer requires a saint's name to be used, names that are anti-Catholic or anti-Christian are off limits).

If naming, as at least I believe it is, is truly a moral issue, then it should not be taken lightly.  There are fair names and foul ones, strange names and ordinary ones, wild names and sensible ones. But for all the myriad of names and meanings and motives and persons, one fact remains: names are important, powerful things.  Naming is high and holy practice - the Word became Flesh, after all, and was named by both God (as announced by Gabriel) and man (declared by St. Joseph as Christ's foster-father).  Thus, naming has become for us not only an ability but also a great matter, a duty, and a grave privilege indeed.