To little she-who-is, and the divine miss m,

The divine miss m is going to be baptized on Sunday, and I wanted to write to you two and talk about that, in the hopes that you will read this someday in the future. This is a long letter, and it's only the first part, but baptism is a big subject.

But before I get to baptism, you may be wondering about your pseudonyms. Why is C “little she-who-is” on this blog? And why is M “the divine miss m”?

First, C: little she-who-is.

I remember the day I graduated from seminary. I was sitting up on the dais while my class filed in—I was doing the call to worship or opening prayer or somesuch. And I felt pride and a sense of accomplishment, and relief, and affirmation. I scanned the crowd and found you and your father and MaDear. You were sitting on MaDear’s lap, kicking those feet that could never keep socks on them, and I thought, That right there is the finest thing I’ve ever achieved. I choked up a little, both at the truth of it and, mainly, the falsehood of it. I didn’t make you, not in any appreciable sense. You are a gift from God, formed and made, knit together in me, but not by me.

She Who Is is a book by Elizabeth Johnson that offers a series of feminine images for God, such as Sophia, which is the Greek word for wisdom. In scripture, particularly the book of Proverbs, the divine wisdom is personified as a female figure. In fact, I played with the idea of naming you Sophia, but your father vetoed it. He is as open as the next person, but Sophia is a problematic concept for some in the church, to say the least, and he said, “My kid is not going to be a theological statement.” OK, fine.

Obviously he has no sway on this blog.

She Who Is is a play on the divine name “Yahweh,” which means I am who I am, or I will be who I will be. I’ve always loved that mystery is built right into the name for God. And your name, your real name, was a mystery too—we kept it a secret until you were born. During that time, among people who would understand, ChaplainMom and others, you came to be called She-Who-Is.

It may seem like an auspicious name for such a young girl! Hence the addition of “little” and the lowercase. You don’t have to be perfect, just be yourself.

This name suits your personality, by the way.
She-Who-Is—it’s declarative, to the point, no nonsense, yet with many layers—a lot like you. Yet the “little” indicates a person who takes herself lightly, and you do.

Now, M: the divine miss m.

That seems obvious enough—your name begins with M, and you are just as much a gift from the divine as your sister! But “The Divine Miss M” is also a Bette Midler album that came out the year I was born. Bette Midler is a sassy gal with a big voice and grand personality, and that suits you as well. We’re still discovering your personality, of course, but your smile is as wide as sky and your voice as big as the world—that much we already know.

Why am I telling you all this? Well, baptism is a lot about naming. In our church, we baptize using your full name, and “in the name of” the triune God.

And we baptize infants rather than waiting for them to make a profession of faith. Other traditions wait, and there are good things about waiting—our response to God is not to be taken lightly, and something is lost by having baptism separate from that profession of faith.

But what is gained is this: when we baptize infants, we do so as a sign that God loves and claims us as God’s own before we even know who God is. God’s love is nothing we can earn by our doing or by our believing. That’s what grace is. The scripture does not say, “I have called you by name; you will be mine once you say this and do that”; it says, “I have called you by name, you are mine.” Now. Already.

Baptism is the sign of God’s already.


The other day I was walking to the playground with the two of you. I was pushing M in the stroller while C walked alongside. A woman rode by on a bicycle, and I was admiring the toddler-trailer she was pulling behind her and wondering where we could get one when she said, “Hi C and C’s mommy!”

I was surprised. I couldn't recognize her with her helmet on. C, I could tell you weren’t quite sure who she was either, although I assume she is one of L’s neighbors (L, of course, your day-care provider who lives down the street).

I asked without thinking, “Who’s that, C? How does she know you?”

And I realized you would have no idea how to answer that question, because in your world, everyone knows you. Both of you! Nowhere is this truer than at the church. Every time you enter those doors, you are greeted, and you are greeted by name. And that is part of what it means to be baptized. You may not know them, but they know you, and what’s more, they love you.

And they call you by your name.



Love,
your mother


more on Sophia