Looking Forward to Lent, Part 2: An Additional Rosary "Bouquet"
By Their Names Ye Shall Know Them?
Photo by Josh Applegate on Unsplash
Heard an interesting story a few years ago on the news; while it was bad news, and mind-numbing, in that it was "yet another" story of Iraqi casualties in the war raging at the time, it in a sense "witnessed" to me about something I feel we used to have, and may not anymore.
The announcer mentioned that in Iraq, you can tell which religious sect a person belongs to by their name. So when rescuers come to save the lucky ones--or when the law comes to find those not so lucky--with one glance at their IDs, they can tell how many of which religious group have been involved in a certain encounter.
And that got me thinking...what if we could tell what faith we were by our names alone?
And that got me remembering that there was a time when, for Catholics, that was just about true. And maybe that ought to start being true again.
Think about it. If you grew up in a neighborhood with the proverbial big Catholic families, what kind of names did they give their kids? Of course--saints' names. When I was growing up, in fact, you had to have at least a saint's name for your middle name (if you had one) in order for the priest to be willing to baptize you in the Church.
Not for Catholic kids the whimsical, spacy names of 60s flower children; we didn't get away with baptizing babies Starshine or Astral Joy. And even some of the more popular names of our day--if they couldn't be traced back to a saint's name with a fairly straight line--had to be linked to something that COULD, or the priest would make you add another name to the kid or choose something else.
In those days, amazingly enough, that wasn't considered violating anyone's freedom....it was what you did, as a Catholic. It was expected of you, the priest said so, the Church said so, and so you did it. You didn't think about how "unfair" it may have been. It was part of your Catholic duty, your identity, and in the end you were proud to do it. If Aunt Sunshine was a little put out because you named your girl Mary Ellen instead...that was just something you dealt with.
But now? Now the Church gently "suggests" or "advises" that your child's name be traceable to a saint's name.
Suggests?
Advises?
Since when does the Church have to feel that the best they can do is "suggest" or "advise"? How about "require"?
Will it drive people away from the Catholic Church? Not in the numbers the Church apparently fears. More people are leaving the Church because it's not taking strong enough stands than because it's "too strict." That excuse used to have some validity. Now? Don't make me laugh.
In the name of "compassion" (or "inclusion," perhaps), thousands of grown-up children of the 60s have diluted the Catholic identity to the point now where it's hard to know what a real Catholic looks like anymore. Maybe knowing one by his or her name--and having that name proudly represent and honor a patron saint--would help.
It's certain that at least having a saint in a child's background would be better catechesis than many of them are getting nowadays. And, IMHO, any better catechesis is a step in the right direction.
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About the Author
Janet W. Butler is a writer, editor, and editorial consultant by day and a “small soprano” by night. She is the author of “the best two little books almost no one ever heard of”—sweet romances, both published with small presses, and both orphaned—as well as several more manuscripts presently being shopped. In response to requests from “mentees,” she’s also produced an e-book version of the popular workshop series 12 Weeks to Your First (or Next) Novel, available through Kindle Direct.
A cradle Catholic who briefly “jumped the Tiber,” she spent time on the evangelical side of the fence before “reverting” to the Church again—because she was “dying of malnutrition” without the Eucharist. She’s a member of St. Peter Church in Volo, Illinois, where she serves as a member of the St. Anne Sodality board, and even was a guest on a podcast episode in October of 2020.
She is a Chicago area native, now back home once more after a stint in northeast Indiana (where she was an editor for Our Sunday Visitor Books), and lives near one of the Chain o’ Lakes with Maisie, Fur Diva and Office Cat Extraordinaire. When she’s not writing, she’s baking the annual Christmas Cookie Extravaganza, sampling new wines, or spending quality time at the piano trying to unravel the mysteries of Beethoven, Brahms, Chopin, Debussy, Elgar, Mendelssohn, Rachmaninoff, and Schubert. She’s also a member of various choral organizations in the Chicago area, in which occasionally she hits notes only dogs can hear.
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