Adam named Eve when she was found to be a companion just for him.
Mary’s eyes were opened to the Resurrected Christ when He called her by name: “Mary!”
Religious conversions of all kinds prompt the adoption of a new name to go along with the new identity. Saul becomes Paul, Simon becomes Peter, and so on.
But this is not a “religious” phenomenon, it is a romantic one. Lovers, across cultures and centuries, give each other pet names, often kept secret from outsiders, often embarassing the lovers when they become known. It isn’t just symbolism, it reflects reality in the moment one lover claims another, saying “you belong to me.” The romantic truth was reflected in traditional marriage when the woman adopted the man’s name. (Reactionaries mis-interpreted this as reflective of a property claim of the man on the woman. Political correctness is always rooted in the projection of personal bitterness onto the cosmos, producing fictions which are then battled, like big scary windmills.)
The woman changed her name because of a romantic embrace, not because of a property claim. The woman is more percipient than the man, so it is more important to her to be romantically worshiped. And she deserves it. She is renamed because of her importance.
So it is with all lovers. Once again, what we have made into religious dogmas is actually romantic depth.
A new name is accompanied by a talisman, an object carrying the new reality. The engagement stone, the wedding ring. We are creatures of flesh, and without shame we need the precious substances of this world to celebrate the name. And we take great joy in seeing our name in writing, not just a sound in the air but emblazoned forever on matter, on the ground of the solid universe. Our name is shape on the stone as well as a shape in the eardrum.
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The more true a Romantic Language is, the less it can be understood outside the relationship. Each pair of lovers should have their own names, their own language, and that language is sacred to the two, meaning it is properly invested with the aura of the Holy. It cannot be uttered outside. It is, as the mystics say, ineffable.
Romantic languages cannot be understood by the outsider but they are percieved as beautiful by all hearers. One hears a sound, and is not sure if it was the thunder or perhaps it was the voice of many waters or a mighty wind.
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In the Revelation of St. John the Returning Bridegroom gives to each overcomer a white stone, and on the stone is that individuals’ secret name, known only to him. At that moment, he will for the first time in his life know his true name, the name he always felt was out there somewhere in the dark. “Mary!”
In everyone who enters the world there is the desire for the White Stone. Everyone spends their lives searching for this spell, this word, this incantation, this blue flower, this white stag, this golden grail, this pearl of great price, this true lover, this magi or adept or friend who can utter the word, the one Stone.
It is personal to you, which means it is too large to be contained in alchemy, philosophy, riches, magic, science, poetry, or any other endeavor any less than the moment of lovers saying yes. Yes, I take you. Will you take me? With this ring I thee wed, and in your ear out of the hearing of the witnesses I say you are — _______. And together we will always be.
It is the personal word, it must be uttered by a person to your personhood, but no other mortal is existentially large enough to know your name. Only He who weaved you in the womb knows you well enough to know your name.
He has your White Stone.
TimothyOne 