New Year's Eve

It's not New Year's Eve that we'll celebrate here. We'll celebrate it of course, but first we'll celebrate First Vespers of The Feast of the Holy Name. On the eighth day Jesus was taken to the temple to be presented, circumcised and officially named. Eight days from Christmas just happens to coincide with New Year's Day and the early church treated it as a fast day to offset the festivities celebrating Janus, god of beginnings.

For most Christians circumcision is a choice made for health or cultural reasons, not something we do to keep a covenant with God. Not so for the parents of Jesus. We now call the feast The Holy Name, shifting the emphasis from the cutting to the naming. Both of my sons were circumcised in the hospital, one immediately after his birth. (The doctor's reasoning was: he was already in shock from the birth trauma, one more little cut was not going to make much difference.) Not so for Jesus.

I've read that the name Jesus was not unusual in his time. Certain names were popular and used over and over. Case in point: Mary. We have the Virgin Mary, Mary of Magdala, Mary of Bethany… the list goes on. But after Jesus' naming we don't read about any other Jesuses in the Bible. He's the one. God Delivers.

My own given name was a source of embarrassment and irritation for me as a child. I was named after my grandfather, who apparently bemoaned the fact that he had four grandchildren (three of them boys) and my uncle had not thought to name a single one after him. His name was Claude, and I was named Claudia, because my mother, bless her heart, wanted to please him. But as a Navy child I was forced into new school situations every time I turned around. The inevitable question: "What's your name?" was the one I dreaded. I would answer "Claudia" and the disappointing responses would fly: "Never heard that name before… Did you say Gloria? Oh Cynthia, please sit over here… That's the dumbest name I ever heard…" And there was no way to shorten it, any nickname only made matters worse: "Clod, Clodhopper". It wasn't until college that the idea occurred to me to use my initials, CJ as a nickname. I have college friends who still call me that.

It wasn't so bad being Claudia as an adult, but I was still more than pleased to change my name when the time came to be clothed in the habit of the community. My name of choice, Claire Joy has its own story. But that's for another post.