Wearing the Name
Dave Faust
An eponym is a person for whom something is named, or a common word that originated with a person's name. For example, sandwiches derive their name from John Montagu, an English diplomat who was Earl of Sandwich. The process of pasteurization is named after scientist Louis Pasteur. To call someone a pharisee brings to mind the arrogant self-righteousness of the biblical Pharisees; and no woman wants to be called a jezebel (like the wicked queen of Old Testament fame).
Linguist Michael Gartner has pointed out several other examples. An Australian opera singer named Helen Porter Mitchell took the name Melba in honor of her birthplace, Melbourne. Two of her favorite foods became famous: "Melba toast" and "peach Melba."
The reading system of the blind was named for its inventor, Louis Braille. We describe something elegant and fashionable as "ritzy" because Cesar Ritz owned a group of exclusive hotels. Rudolph Diesel worked in a German ice-machine factory; he tinkered with mechanical gadgetry and invented an engine that bears his name. In the 1700's, a New England farmer named Timothy Hanson promoted a long-leafed grass that made an ideal hay for feeding farm animals; today, many farmers still grow "timothy."
Where do Christians derive our name? We believe Jesus of Nazareth is the Christ (Messiah or "anointed one"). Acts 11:26 says, "The disciples were first called Christians at Antioch." Unfortunately, the significance of this name is often overlooked. To some, "Christian" describes any religion, no matter how vague or shallow, that somehow acknowledges Jesus. But in New Testament times, the name Christian signified genuine, committed discipleship. That's why some declined to wear the name (Acts 26:28).
If we're known as Christians, we need to wear the Lord's name thoughtfully and reverently, for it identifies us as people who belong to Jesus not only in name, but in faith and life as well. As Peter wrote, even "if you suffer as a Christian, do not be ashamed, but praise God that you bear that name" (1 Peter 4:16).
This column first appeared in The Lookout on Oct 12, 1997.
Walking in Your Teen's Sneakers
My wife and I attended our daughter's high school open house last night. Perhaps you know the routine. After a PTA meeting in the gym, we found our daughter's homeroom, picked up her schedule, then walked through the classrooms where she spends her typical day. Along with other middle-aged parents, we looked out of place as we squeezed our wider-than-they-used-to-be bodies into smaller-than-we-remembered desks. In abbreviated eight-minute class periods, we met each teacher and learned a bit about our daughter's classes: Spanish, Algebra II, Chemistry, and other subjects.
Welcome Home
I like coming home. The ideal welcome? Walking through the front door to a hug from my wife and kids, the smell of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies, and the dog greeting my arrival with tail-wagging enthusiasm. But realistically, coming home is often a far different scene from fighting traffic, I'm grouchy by the time I stumble over my daughter's bookbag left by the door, discover a pile of bills from the day's mail, hear my kids ask for help with homework I don't understand, and find the dog tearing up a piece of carpet again.