Twins 201: Names matter

This series is similar to Twins 101 except that I am reflecting somewhat on the theological, social, and otherwise interesting-to-me implications of twins, being a twin, and so on.

Part 1: Names matter
Some pastors think it is all caring and pastoral and wonderful if, when they are distributing communion, they address everybody by name: “Insert-name-here, the body of Christ, given for you.” This is a fine custom, if you can manage it. But if you can’t manage it…it is not a good idea.

Let me tell you a story.

One time, the pastor—the wonderful, caring, pastorally sensitive pastor—came up to me and he said, “Erin, this is the body of Christ, given for you”. And I said, loudly enough that everyone at the altar rail could hear it: “I’m Sarah”. Everyone laughed.

It wasn’t actually funny.

So, unless you can name 100% of the people who are there, including visitors and identical twins who have been members there longer than you have, my opinion is that this is just Not a Good Idea. How do you think it feels when the pastor names everybody else and then doesn’t name you? Or worse—when the pastor calls you by the wrong name? Let me give you a hint: It isn’t the most awesome thing ever.

Names are important. Names matter. You know this already if you’ve spent any time at all reading the Bible, because the Bible is full of names that matter. You have Abram and Sarai whose names were changed to Abraham and Sarah* as a sign of the covenant. You have Jacob, who becomes Israel. You have Peter, the rock. (You’ve even got Saul-Paul, although that one is a little more complicated.)

When we are baptized, we are given a new name: Child of God. And we are given the name of Jesus, which is the Name Above All Names, which really is the most awesome thing ever.

Halfway through Summer Greek I realized what was different: Not one of my seminary classmates, in the whole time I had been there, had confused me with my sister. (They frequently confused me with another young woman with long, dark hair. Apparently young women with long, dark hair are interchangeable.) It was wonderful! Someone knew who I was! (Well, okay, they were mixing me up with another student, but that was only because none of us knew each other very well just yet.)

Calling people by their proper names is a precious, precious gift. It’s a gift that God gives us every day: God has never confused me with my sister. When you call me by my proper name, it can be a reminder of that. But—and this is the important part—your getting my name right is not what saves me. God’s got that part covered.

If you’re going to make a big deal out of names, then you need to get mine right. And the same goes for the kid with the foreign-sounding name that is difficult for you to pronounce, and the quiet fellow in the back corner whose name you never caught because he never gets in any trouble.

But if you can’t get my name right—or anyone else’s—then “child of God” will do.

P.S.: Intentions matter, too.
Here is the secret: I don’t really care if you can’t tell us apart. I do care if you just don’t care.

Being an identical twin does not give me any special abilities when it comes to telling other twins apart. (Here’s how I tell my sister and me apart: I’m the one that’s me.) So, I confuse other identical twins about as often as anyone else does. I therefore figure it’s only fair that I be kind to people who have the same problem.

It only annoys me when people just can’t be bothered. As long as you care enough about me to want to get it right, it’s all good. But if you don’t bother telling us apart because as far as you are concerned, same difference—well, that is not cool. That is not cool at all.

This is why I corrected that pastor: because I knew that he cared about getting it right. Because I knew that he cared, I was not at all upset about having to correct him. (People who do not care are not worth correcting.)

I hope he wasn’t upset about being corrected. He was pretty much asking for it.

*By God. I mean, God personally gave them these names. That’s a pretty cool lineage if your name happens to be “Sarah”. (Or “Abraham”, I guess.)^