Pregnant with meaning

There are a lot of pregnant women in my life.

This is bad news, inasmuch as before there are babies, there are almost inevitably baby showers (*shudder*). But this is good news, because the announcement of a pregnancy provides a source of conversational fodder that rivals the weather in terms of mileage: baby names. This can be discussed endlessly both with the parents-to-be and – even more fun, to be honest – without them.

What will it be?

Perhaps an obscure Old Testament character? (Probability increases in line with length of the dad’s facial hair.)

Or something more modern? (‘What a silly name,’ was my unfiltered foot-in-mouth response when someone told me about a mutual acquaintance’s birth announcement. ‘I think what you meant to say was “unusual,”’ she replied.)

Or maybe something classic. I had the joy of holding a brand-new baby William only this week – a name which I regretted failing to call in advance, since his mother had expressly declared six months into her pregnancy that ‘This child is going to have a normal name, because this child has got to go to school. I am NOT home-schooling.’ So Will will do just fine.

Of course, it’s no secret to my parents that I resent my name a great deal. Rachel Jones combines a common forename with an equally ubiquitous surname. When I was at Word Alive over Easter I was forever thinking someone was calling me – but no, it was just one of the other thousand Rachels on site. That said, the distinct lack of baby Rachels I’ve met in the last 20 years leaves me with the fear that it will one day be a middle-aged woman’s name – and when it is, I will be one of them.

Granted, predicting my own probable ascent to middle age is no great feat. Infinitely more impressive, however, is God’s ability in the Bible to give names to children in utero which reflected what He would do through them. ‘Solomon,’ meaning ‘peace’, for ‘I will grant Israel peace and quiet during his reign’ (1 Chron. 22:9). ‘John,’ meaning ‘graced by God,’ since ‘many will rejoice because of his birth’ (Luke 1:14). And of course, that sweetest name of all: Jesus, ‘God saves’, ‘because he will save his people from their sins’ (Matt. 1:21).

Sure, such divine announcements must have ruined the name-guessing game somewhat for the parent-to-be’s friends and relations; but more exciting by far was the invitation to watch and wait for God to fulfil His promises. We, of course, cannot declare a future or a character by selecting a name – but parents can, and many do, choose a name whose meaning they pray will be fulfilled in that child’s life.

Royal names remain perennially popular in the UK, and with the nation gearing up for the Platinum Jubliee this month, that trend doesn’t look likely to be going anywhere any time soon. With the bunting up, the street parties planned, the puddings designed, and even the staunchest republicans knowing better than to look a gift bank holiday in the mouth, it’s all in honour of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II – a name which, apparently somewhat fittingly, means ‘God is my oath’.

While by no means perfect, it’s hard not to see ways in which the last 70 years of her reign – and of our nation’s life – have nonetheless been shaped by the oath she made in 1953 in Westminster Abbey, with her hand on a Bible, to govern the peoples of her kingdom, uphold law and justice in mercy, and defend the true profession of the gospel. And those latter two are certainly good things to pray for all of the babies I know being born this year – no matter what I secretly (or not so secretly) think of their name.