The weight of a name in a prayer

by Ana-Maria Niculcea

This Sunday we celebrate the Feast of St Mary the Virgin. It is also my name day. As some of you may know, name days and patronal saints are quite a big thing in the Orthodox Church. I bear the names of the Virgin and her mother, which instill quite an interesting combination of values and set a lot of expectations. I was supposed to take my mother’s name, Carmen, and I honestly cannot imagine this parallel universe Me. I would feel rather lonely without my patronal saints, all the Marys and the Annas and their different stories.

Coming home recently, I received a letter from my grandfather, who as some of you may know, is a monk. He lives in a small monastery in the Carpathians, a hard to reach place, surrounded by high peaks and lots of bears. His past is not an easy one and his relationship with my family is complicated and fragile, cradled by occasional visits (from us) and letters (from him). It is in one of these letters that he talks about the comfort he finds in his pattern of daily prayer, the rhythm of his life, punctuated by prayer times and silences, as part of his small congregation and on his own. That it is this repetition of ancient words, softly spoken, for our ears and God’s, which is the key to understanding.

​​’Fear not, for I have redeemed you.

I have called you by name; you are mine.’

I find these words, uttered in the beautiful light of a Thursday morning in the Chancel, completely transforming. 

I struggle immensely with the responsibilities of my heavy names, which carry the traditional expectations of my family, my faith, my own vision of my future and the shifting sands of other people’s understanding of who I am and what I can do. And yet, what I struggle most is truly accepting that I am loved by God.

Prayer reminds me. He did call me by name. By all my names. And it is easy, there is no struggle, there is no work to be done to be loved and accepted. I am. Just as I am.

Ana-Maria is the Communications, Learning and Outreach Officer at the University Church.