It is amazing—all that lies hidden in a simple name. In Ghana before a child is named the head of the family consults diviners to find the particular ancestor that has taken the child under its car and carry it to its true destiny. A wrongly named child will be ill at ease, tormented internally and unable to live out his life. For the Israelites it was similar. But in our time, the time of God’s kingdom, it is our sainted Christian ancestors who offer themselves as our named spiritual mentors directing us through life.
Ghanaians believe that one must know one’s guardian spirit to live a full life and become an ancestor. There is power in that named spirit and knowing a person’s name gives you power over that person. Euro pean myths align with this. They tell us that knowledge of a person’s name, as in the story of Rumplestiltskin, is the key that unlocks a person’s power. In the Gospel Jesus calls out demons by name. We hope for our names to be written in the book of life.
Every three years we missionaries to Ghana would get a three-month home leave. During one of my visits home my father asked me how I would like to celebrate my name’s day. It was June 24th, the feast of the birth of St. John the Baptist. I was startled by this, not just because name days are not usually celebrated by Americans but because I had always thought that I was named after St John the Evange list. I remember brushing it off saying, “you’ve got it all wrong. I’m with John the Evangelist.” I can still vividly remember the look on his face. Did he know something I didn’t.
I never asked dad why he named after John the Baptist although I wish I would have. As the head of the family, the appointed one, he was closer to the truth than me. He knew something that all Africans know. We don’t choose our mentors; they are given to us through the grace of God and are revealed by the Spirit.
As an individualist American I thought it was up to me to choose for myself and at an early point in my life I chose the Evangelist. I wanted to be like the special disciple, the apple of Jesus’ eye, the beloved, the scholar. Living a prayerful life of eating locusts, fasting in the desert and proclaiming repentance to unwelcome ears didn’t sit well with me.
Yet irony of ironies! How strange it all is because that’s exactly what I ended up doing and being for much of my 36 years in Ghana. Even though I hadn’t acknowledged him, John the Baptist was certainly there with me in Northern Ghana telling bible stories to traditional believers and Muslims.
Somehow, through the inspiration of the gift of the Holy Spirit, dad had it right. And yet for much of my life I felt the close presence of the Evangelist. Isn’t it possible to have two lifelines, two mentors or guardian spirits? Why not? My missionary life had two sides to it—the social scientist, researcher, writer, and teacher. But this went alongside a difficult ministry in one of the most desolate parts of the world. Mentors are needed for both. So I’ve concluded that both John’s have always been there for me guiding and directing in their different ways. The Baptist in the desert and the Evangelist at my desk.
Perhaps it is the Ghanaian in me that urges me to say that we all must connect deeply with our guardian spirits. There are times when we especially need that certainty that we are moving in the right direction. Eve ry June and July many of us begin new appointments and take on new parish responsibilities. The new and unfamiliar can tax our strength and the experience can be frightening, even overwhelming. At such times we need our guardian spirits—all of them. We are not meant to do it alone. Our sainted ancestors are always there to direct and guide us along our life’s path. Go to your namesake mentor. Acknowledge him and ask for his help.
By Fr. Jon Kirby, SVD