Names Should Name the Nature of Things

Throughout the world, there are many things that are poorly named. In other words, there are objects, places, or even people that have names that do not really correspond to the reality of their nature.

Food Names

For instance, here in Italy, after helping a parishioner with some difficulties, she kindly offered to make me zuppa inglese, literally, English soup. Since it was the end of a hot summer, the soup sounded very unappealing.  Also given the general quality of English cuisine, whatever minimal appeal was left quickly faded.

Of course, I put on my best pastoral smile and thanked her, only to be surprised the next day with a container of dessert. As it turns out, zuppa inglese has nothing to do with soup or the English.  It is a layered dessert with custard and chocolate, like a tiramisu with an identity crisis. It was cold, and hence not very soup like at all.  And no one seems to know where the English part comes from.  Nonetheless, it was a very delicious, if not poorly named, dish.

Likewise, while on the topic of food, sometimes the youth of the parish will gather for pizza.  One of their favorite styles is pizza americana. Rumor has it in some places this means deep-dish, or with plenty of tomato sauce.  In our region though, it means topped with two very odd additions: hot dogs and French fries.

The young people can’t seem to grasp why an American would find pizza americana odd.  And, despite my best efforts to explain that we really don’t eat pizza with hot dogs and French fries, the confusion continues. I find it ironic that for Italians hot dogs and French fries on a pizza is normal, but pineapple and ham is akin to culinary sacrilege (but that’s another issue all together).

The Post Office

Perhaps the gravest misnaming is found at the Italian post office. In Italy, the post office is more than just a place to mail letters and send packages. People also pay their bills there, and the post office issues credit and debit cards, and even processes immigration paperwork.

Upon entering the post office for any serious business, customers are immediately directed to the sportello amico. Literally it means “the window (or door) friend.” But there is, in fact, no door, except when you are shown it and told to get out of the office.

The window is usually a fairly thick piece of Plexiglass with a little slot for exchanging papers.  Usually there is also a microphone capable of rendering the clearest, neatest Italian (which is never spoken at the post office anyways, but no matter) into an undulant audio wave of emphatic gibberish. As a result, the only thing you are guaranteed not to find at the sportello amico is precisely an amico, a friend. What a person typically does find are rather testy Italians.  Most are frustrated by the system and the problems it causes, and which they are unable to fix.

The last time I went to submit immigration paperwork, the amico told me that I needed to pay. I asked how much, only to be told, “How should I know?!” The thick packet of papers held no clues either.  After much insisting with my amico, I was given the three options that appeared on his screen and told to pick. I chose wrongly, but at least things were paid.

Confusing Names

These three names, zuppa inglese, pizza americana, and sportello amico, all strike me as odd because the name does not reveal what the thing named is; rather, the name misguides.  Many names, however, do just the opposite, and try to reveal something about the object.

For instance, in Mandarin Chinese, I’m told that the names of the animals resemble the sounds the animals make. Likewise, Aquinas says that the “lapis (stone) is derived from its effect, laedere pedem (to bruise the foot).”

But in the aforementioned cases the name is confusing because it points to a different reality entirely. One would expect zuppa inglese to be some sort of English soup loved by the Queen, or pizza americana to be loaded with American favorites like pepperoni and bacon.  One might also expect a friend to be eagerly waiting behind the sportello amico.

Naming Correctly

Even Thomas Aquinas, 800 years ago, argued that names should be adapted or suited to the nature of the things they name. This is the profound reason behind God changing people’s names in the Bible.  The change is not merely esthetic, but rather reflects a change in their destiny or status.  Abram and Sarai become Abraham and Sarah (Genesis 17:5, 15), Jacob changes to Israel (Genesis 32:29), and Simon becomes Peter (John 1:42). Each individual receives a new mission, and hence a new name.

Likewise, the name of God Himself is revealed to those who love Him.  It is, as it were, a ticket, the key to enter into the mystery of God’s very nature. As the “Catechism of the Catholic Church” teaches us (2143): “Among all the words of Revelation, there is one which is unique: the revealed name of God. God confides his name to those who believe in him; he reveals himself to them in his personal mystery. The gift of a name belongs to the order of trust and intimacy.”

This name is fully revealed in the person of Jesus Christ, as elsewhere the Catechism points out (2812):

“Finally, in Jesus the name of the Holy God is revealed and given to us, in the flesh, as Savior, revealed by what he is, by his word, and by his sacrifice. This is the heart of his priestly prayer: “Holy Father . . . for their sake I consecrate myself, that they also may be consecrated in truth.” Because he “sanctifies” his own name, Jesus reveals to us the name of the Father. At the end of Christ’s Passover, the Father gives him the name that is above all names: “Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

Names Reflect Essence

However, it is not only God who names. Aquinas points out (Summa Theologiae, question 96) that when Adam named the animals, the first man did so through a special gift from God.  He received a special knowledge that allowed him to name the animals properly. As we read in Genesis 2:19-20:

“So the LORD God formed out of the ground all the wild animals and all the birds of the air, and he brought them to the man to see what he would call them; whatever the man called each living creature was then its name. The man gave names to all the tame animals, all the birds of the air, and all the wild animals.”

Giving names showed man’s dominance over the animals.  It also made him, as it were, a participant in God’s work.

Even today, we continue naming things.  New pieces of technology, new schools of art and music, and new species all receive new names.  So we continue our participation in God’s work, but with the same requirement imposed in Eden: the names that we give things should reflect their essences.

If we are to “bear witness to the Lord’s name,” says the Catechism (2145), it is “by confessing the faith without giving way to fear.” The faith we profess gives us a solid footing. Our faith is a firm foundation from which to read and understand all other realities in the world.

Calling Things as They Are

We need to name names, to call things as they are, so that we do not suffer the reproach that comes to us through the Prophet Isaiah (5:20): “Ah. Those who call evil good, and good evil, who change darkness to light, and light into darkness, who change bitter to sweet, and sweet into bitter!”

What’s in a name? A name is the way to call things, in truth and charity, as they are, and not just as we’d like for them to be.