Âé¶¹Éç

Use Âé¶¹Éç.com or the new Âé¶¹Éç App to listen to Âé¶¹Éç podcasts, Radio 4 and the World Service outside the UK.

Episode details

Radio 4,2 mins

Rev Dr Jane Leach - 15/02/2021

Thought for the Day

Available for over a year

So the bookies are giving odds on the name that Princess Eugenie will choose for her baby son, and whether or not the Queen will like it… And whether or not you’re interested in royal baby names, the business of naming is a serious matter – an act that expresses a bond and perhaps a hope. The hope that the child will live up to something, or carry the memory of someone, or simply that their name will be a good fit for this unique person whose personality is yet to unfold. Whatever their origins our names are a deeply personal matter. They abound with resonances of culture and family, and of personal association and memory. Sometimes these are resonances we want to claim, and sometimes we want to distance ourselves from them, and yet whatever name we embrace, we care about it being spelled correctly and pronounced correctly and that’s why it’s so easy to insult someone by refusing to learn to say their name. Kamala Harris must be very used to this by now, and she is not alone because naming – both the act of giving a name and the act of addressing someone by name – are acts of power. We can claim power over the other in name giving - as enslaved people on plantations found that their African names had been replaced with those of their owners - or, we can empower others by seeking to hear and understand their names – the name Kamala (Comma-la) means lotus flower in Sanskrit – a plant that unfolds above the surface but has deep roots. Many religious traditions recognise that naming is powerful because it’s not just a social matter, it’s also an existential one. In the biblical tradition names sometimes reveal the character of the players – like Jacob, which means cheat - who after a wrestling match with God was re-named, Israel – a name that offered a different future to a man who had previously lived up to a bad name. In the eighth century BC, as the prophet Isaiah addressed the plight of those in exile in Babylon who were living in a reality defined by others, he declared that the names of God’s children are inscribed on the palms of God’s hands, implying, that whatever the names others call us, or even that we may find ourselves living up to, there is a deeper calling to pay attention to, a name that belongs to us, that references our sacred value and unique identity. For those, across the ages, whose opportunities for self determination have been limited, this has been and remains a source of comfort and strength - the belief that our real names are known and are not forgotten; that our existence matters; that we have deep roots that one day may have the chance to flower above the surface; that there is hope that one day we will be heard.

Programme Website
More episodes