“A slave does not know what his master is doing. I no longer call you slaves but friends, for I have revealed to you everything I have received from my Father in Heaven.”
In 47 days, God willing, my fiancé and I are getting married.1 Now, I have never been married before, nor has my fiancé, but I hear that this involves quite a few life changes. To be more precise, it’s a sharing of everything. It requires a lay-it-all-on-the-line commitment. You know, just small things.
This is signified in many ways, not least of which is changing my name.
In Scripture, a name change marked a new mission from God, a new identity in God, a new understanding of one’s relationship to God. It means a conversion, an acceptance of a vocation, a whole-life-game-changer. Abram became Abraham, Jacob became Israel, Simon became Peter, Saul became Paul2—and neither the person, nor the world was never ever the same again.When I was baptized, I, Jennifer Marie, became a new creation in Christ. I became an alter Christus—another Christ—with a distinct vocation that can be fulfilled by no one but me. Later, when I was confirmed Francesca Pio, the gifts I received at Baptism were sealed in the Sacrament of Christian maturity. These signified my new status in the family of God—a supernatural change of identity.
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| Another "Squib." |
When I take a vow before God and man in a few months, I will be accepting a new name—the name of my future husband—a name that I believe is given me by God—as a gift. It means to me an acceptance of a new mission in life, a profound call to radical self-gift, and a surrendering of my will to another.
“For this reason, a man leaves father and mother, and cleaves to his wife and the two shall become one flesh.” What’s worth it? What relationship could make me willing to leave my family name, everything associated with my old identity, and to be transformed one step further? What mission could God possibly offer me that would transcend the blessings of my childhood and young adulthood? Only a deeper share in the mystery of Christ’s love.
It seems to me that, deep down, Saul was always Paul and that, deep down, Simon was always Peter. Not that they couldn’t have rejected these new names and identities, of course, but that the potential for radically following Christ was always there for them. The name I take in marriage is one more step in becoming who I am, who God is calling me to be. It is taking my universal call to holiness and particularizing—incarnating—it. It is taking on the responsibility for my future husband’s salvation, and that of our children, God willing.
Christ is the model. In His mission, His marriage to the Church, He gives us HIS name along with Himself—we become what we receive, the Body of Christ.
So, in preparation for my name change, a prayer:
Saul-Paul—pray for me that I might be able to evangelize my husband and family in my thoughts, words and deeds, and to persevere in running the race and fighting the good fight.
Jacob-Israel—help me to wrestle in prayer with God and man so as to achieve the fullness of God’s plan for me, and for my family, regardless of obstacles and my own past (and future) failings.
Abram-Abraham—pray that I too, along with my husband, might be a source of life for all whom we meet—a figure and fountain-head of faith by putting God first in our lives and trusting in His promises, and not our own plans for life.
Simon-Peter—you rock. Pray for us and help us to follow Christ despite knowing it will cost us—and to follow Him unreservedly, without comparing ourselves to others, or asking God what we can expect, like mercenaries. Let us be lovers of God. Let us be lovers of God. Let us be lovers of God. And let us love Him more than these.
2 Though this was technically not a name change given him by God, we still generally refer to the pre-conversion man as “Saul” and the post-conversion man as “Paul.”↩
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