It is astonishing to note the power that names have over us. At the time of a parliamentary election, it would seem as though the whole purpose of the rival candidates, by posting their names over all public places, was to hypnotize us into thinking all the more of them according to the frequency with which we meet their names when on our walks abroad the more conspicuous the name, the greater the success. Indeed, the very formation of the name may have its own consequences in the sense that there are certain names which by their very sound make an appeal. This is not a question of the names which are hallowed by venerable history or the exploits of past heroes, but the simple sound of the letters. Again, the modern science of advertisement which struggles to combine startling effects with familiar phrases insists always on the importance of the name: it must be something that can easily be asked for. A novel will have its sale largely determined by the title with which it goes into life. Revolving lights are brought into requisition, brilliant colours, verses, anything that can stamp a name on the memory. Nor is this unreasonable, since to human fancy the name sums up the man. It awakens unconscious echoes; at the mention of a name our imagination goes dreaming on, of faces, words, deeds, of long ago. In an age of abridgements, a name is the shortest abridgement of human life. There is something touching in the remark of Scripture that God knows each one of us by name. It seems to make Him more intimate with us, more familiar.
The use, therefore, of names is a custom of human nature. Now it is noticeable that all human customs have received from God consecration, so that it is not to be wondered at that this custom should also receive from Him its hallowing. This comes through that Name which is above all other names, since at its sound every knee in heaven and earth must bow. It towers above every other because it sums up in itself the human life of One who was unique. "He shall be called Jesus," said the Angel, "for He shall save His people from their sins." That work was possible to One only, consequently that one name takes on an importance that is supreme. It is itself the record of a tremendous event, without equal in importance since the world began. The work was unique; then the name which was given to signify the work must also be unique. Throughout Scripture there is continuously the idea that names signify the office given by God, both in the Old and in the New Testament. Here the holy name Jesus does itself mean Saviour. At the sound of it, therefore, we catch the echoes of power, trust, and mercy. It is like some quickly-drawn sketch that with its bold strokes, suggests rather than defines a perfect picture. It brings the haunting memories of so many scenes, the calling of Matthew, the forgiveness of the Magdalene, the repentance of Peter, the chosen friendship of the Beloved Disciple, the wonders of the Death. About it, too, is the fragrance of the parables with their repeated tale of infinite compassion, and the miracles worked as the fruit of that compassion. The sacred Name is, indeed, an epitome of the Gospels.
The Holy Name therefore, echoed in Christ, the Anointed of God, has dominated history. By its sound we find that the first miracles were worked, and its power was put forward to the first persecutors by the first apostles. For it many were willing to lay down their lives. Even the crusading wars that seemed to be hostile in their fierceness to the meekness of Christ were defended and preached for the honour of it. The very beggar in the street begged for alms for the love of that sacred sound. To how many, too, in life, has it not come as a spell to be repeated softly to themselves that the mere echo might ease them in the midst of their troubles, as the lover steels himself to labour in a foreign land or in some distant place by repeating the name of his beloved? and in death's approach it has brought a steadiness to the wayward fear that ebbs and flows in the souls of the dying. For so many of the martyrs it brought strength, for the confessors hope, for the virgins purity. In Catholic days in England, the prayer was familiar: "Jesus, be to me a Jesus." Richard Rolle (died 1349) says of it: "It shall be in thy ear joy, in thy mouth honey, in thy heart melody." Indeed, as we grow older we find that the simpler prayers are best. We get into the way of repeating prayers we have found to suit us, instead of venturing upon new fields or more complicated emotions. Thus the short ejaculation of the Holy Name supplies the place of all others: it is the shortest, the simplest, the best. In the busy hours of daylight let it be upon my lips as an unceasing prayer.
- text taken from Meditations for Layfolk by Father Bede Jarrett, O.P.