Real Families

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you … when you walk through the fire you shall not be burned.—Isaiah 43:1,2

My mother tells the story of selecting my name many years before I was born, when she was still a girl herself. There was a period of time when she and a best friend pledged to name their future daughters after one another, but when mother actually had a daughter—me—she went back to the name she picked for me when she was still a girl herself. It is one of the reasons I have always loved my name. It was chosen with care and given to me by someone who dreamed of me long before I came along.

Naming is one of the most significant acts we humans experience, and I love to hear and tell stories about naming. In the classroom, I enjoy having students participate in a simple activity that revolves around their names. This is part of the ritual of us getting to know one another.

A few days before the class meets for the first time, I contact students and ask them to come to class prepared to tell a story about their name—what it means, whether they were named for a relative or other significant person, how and what kind of nicknames evolve from their proper name. I am always amazed at the wealth of stories that come about—lots of them happy and even silly, some of them sad, many of them funny.

Together we learn more about each person as an individual but also something about families, our larger multiethnic context and the social/cultural/political histories that are wrapped up in our naming stories. Some students are able to tell the stories of how their first names were chosen and also give a history of their last name—what it means, where it came from, how it has been changed and altered, and to whom it is connected. And some students don’t have all that history to draw upon.

Some names get changed during the process of immigrating to a new place; a name misspelled or “Americanized.” A new phase in life can cause an entirely new name to be taken. Couples marry, and one spouse takes the name of the other—or not; sometimes an altogether new family name is chosen. Expectant parents and family members pore over lists of baby names in order to select just the right one.

One family I know had naming and blessing ceremonies for each of their children; the names chosen for them were not divulged to friends and family until the time of the blessing. Some families wait until they meet the baby or change a name that was previously selected upon the infant’s arrival.

We thought we had settled upon our last child’s name several months before he was born. Shortly before the birth, another name seemed more suited for him and so he was given the name Joshua. Several weeks later we realized we’d left out a step when our 4-year-old daughter looked up and asked, “Hey, where’s Isaac?”

Many years ago, Nina Simone recorded a song that says simply, “I told Jesus it would be all right if he changed my name.” The song speaks of a willingness to be brought into a new reality, a new phase of life that doesn’t happen because of a name change but is signified by the new name. In the song, Jesus tells the singer, “You may go hungry, and people may hate you … if your name is changed.” But the refrain comes back, “I told Jesus it would be all right if he changed my name.” Like the arrival of a new baby, our encounters with the divine open the possibility of new life—again and again and again.

God is the one who has initiated the naming process. Through raging waters and fire, God calls us by name and accompanies us on our journeys. I love the story of my mother choosing my name because it tells me she thought of me—dreamed of me—long before I came along. She imagined me into her life and future, much like our Creator has imagined and dwells with all of us.

Regina Shands Stoltzfus is working on a doctorate in theology and ethics at Chicago Theological Seminary.