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Abraham, Abram, Confirmation, Genesis, inhabit, name, Sarah, Sarai, The Sophia Center for Spirituality
In this morning’s first lectionary reading from the Book of Genesis, chapter 17, we have a continuation of God’s conversation with Abram, now known as Abraham, about his wife Sarai, now to be called Sarah because she was to be blessed with a child in her old age – surely a direct result of God’s favor. Those seem hardly noticeable changes, but changes nevertheless. We add or change our names also at certain junctures for different reasons, most commonly in marriage (now often by hyphenation rather than leaving a birth name connection behind) and religiously in the Christian sacrament of Confirmation where our new, additional name should honor a person or signify a character of holiness that we wish to achieve.
I was always happy with my name in one sense; I was always the only Lois in my class at school and it was rare to meet someone else so named. That was easier than trying to figure out which Mary or Maureen or Michael was the subject of conversation. It was only in my high school Math class that I jumped every once in awhile, thinking I had been called on, when the truth was that the teacher was talking about the “lowest common denominator.” (Say that phrase aloud quickly and you may see what I mean.)
On the other hand, I grew up with lots of references to being Superman’s girlfriend, Lois Lane, which wasn’t so bad, I guess, but would have been better if I really had access to the favors of such a hero. More concerning was the question of my “patron saint.” All Catholic children had to have a name derived from that of a recognized saint of the Church so my patron, I was told, had to be St. Louis (King Louis IX of France) or St. Louise de Marillac, founder of the Daughters of Charity, a religious community of nuns in the 16th century. Since my name was not Louis or Louise, I chose always to remind people that my middle name was Ann – mother of Mary, grandmother of Jesus, which was okay but not easily evident and required explanation. Imagine my joy and surprise when I began to read the Bible and realized that the second Letter of Paul to Timothy spoke of Timothy’s “mother Eunice and grandmother Lois.” What a relief!
All of this babble is only half of the point I wish to make this morning. My first thought was to focus on the importance of our names and whether or not we “inhabit” them. It took me a long time to feel comfortable with “Lois” although when spoken by someone who loved me it always sounded better. As I have grown into and accepted more and more the person whose name is Lois, I am more content. I do wonder about the son that was born to Abraham and Sarah in fulfillment of God’s promise, however. How would you feel if your name meant “he laughs” which was Abraham’s reaction to God’s prediction. Unless Isaac could turn the meaning around and become a happy-go-lucky person (quite hard work if we believe the chronicles of his life), I think he must’ve struggled a bit!
What about you? Do you know the genesis of your name? Is it special to you? Have you grown into it gradually or always been comfortable? Do you have a special, secret name by which you hear God or special people call you? What name would you choose if you were given the opportunity, and why? Today I plan to listen for God saying my name in the silence. Hearing that call could be more precious than gold.
We all come to faith – and almost anything in life – in different ways. For some faith is a stumbling toward God that is motivated by internal promptings and inexplicable knowing. For others the path is immediately clear and grasped in a fullness that is never let go. Some of us inherit our religion from our family line and others try on different denominations and/or practices to see what fits.
Last night when I finally turned off my bedroom light and got into bed I immediately had to get up again. I have a high window on the wall beside my bed and in the dark I saw that the night sky was resplendent with stars! I knelt on my bed to see what I could from there and then moved to the window that looks out on the back yard. Not enough of a view, I went into the room next to mine to see if I could escape the fullness of the trees…Not really. I needed to be outside to get the full effect – but it was late and, not willing to disturb the lovely, absolute silence of the house, I went back to bed, but smiling inside and out.
This morning I have just spent my first hour preparing for session 2 of our 6-session study series on the book No Ordinary Time by Jan Phillips. The study grew out of response to Jan’s visit and our meaningful workshop with her in April. We have 19 women gathering to continue pondering the fact that our ordinary lives can truly be extraordinary if we allow them to be so. Our chapter heading for tomorrow is “Discipline” and it contains several possible spiritual practices. I thought it auspicious to choose one – a simple exercise that can be easily done – as a suggestion here. See what you think about the possibility of inserting this into your everyday routine.
One of the “tricky” faculties of the human mind is our ability to judge. We need to be “razor-sharp” in using the quality of discrimination – knowing first the two sides of that “coin” – while refraining from making judgments based on insufficient information, hearsay or our own narrow perspective. To clarify what might sound rather complicated in that sentence, I have two examples.
When my brother was born (finally, a boy!) there was some talk about what name he would be given. I recall hearing that my mother’s choices were Stephen or Victor but that my father (John) was clear that his name is John. Thinking of that always puts me in mind of the story of Zachariah who was also very clear about it – for a serious reason, of course. (LK 1:57-66,80) We think my brother is pretty special and although there was sometimes confusion about who my mother was calling to a task or to dinner, his name suits him as one called from birth (IS. 49:1). I find myself standing up straighter and feeling confident, just by saying the name “John.”
Today is The Solemnity of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, a designation that makes me, as a “cradle Catholic,” sit up and take notice. It’s the words Solemnity and Most that call attention to the holiness of Jesus as the model for life. In this way, my focus shifts from the beating and bleeding heart in the images of Jesus on the walls of many Catholic homes to a deeper consciousness that does not negate the truth of that devotion but expands and personalizes it in a new way. Lest the reader assume that I have left tradition behind, it seems important to mention that I have an image of the Sacred Heart in my prayer space at home. It is the totality of the symbols – the face of Jesus, the heart and fire illuminating it – and yes, drops of blood as a sign of his life’s sacrifice – that guides my prayer toward love each day.
The prayer we know as “The Lord’s Prayer” or the “Our Father” can be found in two of the four canonical gospels – Matthew and Luke – and, although translations vary, the wording of the two is virtually the same. What differs are the verses that follow. Luke, chapter 11, gives an example of what Jesus meant by telling a story. Today we have Matthew’s version which tells people how they are to act when doing spiritual practice – not looking gloomy and neglecting their appearance so people know they are fasting, etc. (That always makes me smile as I know how easy it is to moan to let others know when I am in pain from some small injury or distress…). I noticed something in between Matthew’s directives this morning, however, that surprised me and made me wonder if I will ever have a new thought that doesn’t touch on our relationships in today’s world situation. (See the past few entries of this blog.)
My thoughts this morning are of children – simple thoughts really, for a number of reasons. We have finally (some would say swiftly) arrived at the calendar designation of the beginning of summer and I have been aware that this is the last week of school for the youth of New York State. Freed for the summer from the constraints of study, some are likely jubilant while others quickly become bored. I suggest prayer for young people in general that this season will afford them some new, safe adventures and good friends to companion them.
Perhaps I am more sensitive these days because of all the strife in my own country and the world, but it seems that Jesus is repeatedly pushing his point about how we are to love. Today, again from the fifth chapter of Matthew’s gospel, I can practically hear the urgency in his voice when he tells us that we are called not just to love those who are easy to love but also those we would name “enemy.” He leaves no space for misinterpretation of the message. God, he says, “makes the sun rise on the bad and the good and causes the rain to fall on the just and the unjust.” Then come his questions:
The Sophia Center for Spirituality 