What is in a name? I
thought about this the other day while I was sitting in an Elementary School
gym, listening to a “Moving Up” ceremony.
When they announced his name, Conner walked across the gym, went up the
stairs, received a “diploma” and beamed the entire way. He was very proud of himself, and I was even
more proud. What struck me was to hear
his name being read off, just like at a “real” graduation. “Conner James Johnson”. I don’t often hear his full name, and I was
sort of taken aback. And I wondered, “What’s
in a name?” What is significant about
what I chose to call him? What makes it
special? Should a name even be special
at all?
For about a week or so, I’ve been thinking on this, and realized
that my name defines me. I’m not sure
that EVERYONE’S name defines them, but mine defines me because it was GIVEN to
me. It’s not just what people say when they
want me to look at them. My name means
something because my Father gave it to me.
In our culture, so much is made of our independence. The fact that we don’t need to rely on
anyone. We are self-determined and can
be self-actualized. I can achieve what I
want to achieve, do what I want to do, be who I want to be, with no buy-in or
assistance from anyone. I am the great
determining factor in my life. But my
name was given to me.
My name defines me. I
can never escape my name, nor can I ignore it.
I can’t tell people it’s something other than it is, because the truth
will find me out. I will eventually be
recognized, identified, and labeled as James Lee Johnson, Jr. While it was given to me by someone else
without any input from me, it was given for a reason. Not a bad reason, not an insidious one, not
even a selfish one. It was given to me
as a guide.
My name is the same as my Father. My name is one that reminds me of the
example. Every time I’m addressed by my
name, I’m reminded that my thoughts, words, and actions should be placed
against a standard. What is the reason
for standard? What is the usefulness? Why?
In short, the standard is a standard of excellence. It’s a standard of kindness and love. Of strength.
It’s the standard that reminds me what I should strive to be.
It’s Father’s Day, and I think that it is completely
acceptable for one to simply purchase a card, wish someone a happy Father’s
Day, say, “I love you.”, and have that be the extent of it. But this Father’s Day, I wanted to let you
know what has been on my mind. It’s my
name. And my son’s name. And it’s what that means. Not simply, “What is my name?”, but “What does
my name mean?” What does it say about
me? I’m proud to bear my name, because
it was given to me by a great man. I’m
proud that my son has my name, because it means he has your name. It means that he can look back, ponder these
same things, and come to the realization that his name isn’t just what people
call him, it’s a constant reminder of great men who come before us and lead
us. It’s a reminder that there is a
blueprint we can look to when we’re not sure how to respond, what to say, or how
to love. It’s a responsibility because
it requires good from me. It requires
action. It requires me to analyze
myself, to judge myself rightly (John 7:24?), and not just on what I appear to
be. It requires me to do something, to
be better, to live up to something. Not
a burden. Not always easy, sometimes
difficult. But it requires me to live to
a standard set out.
I’m proud to be your son, I’m proud to have your name, and I’m
proud that you’re my Father. I can’t
even express my feelings with words, so “I love you” will have to do.
