September 1, 2009: God Bless You Please, Mrs. Lundquist

One afternoon about 20 years ago I was having a discussion with my mother about the proper etiquette for addressing names on an envelope. At one point she said, “Here’s how I like to be addressed,” and she grabbed a pen and wrote “Mrs. Lowell Lundquist”. Lowell was my dad’s name. He had died 10 years earlier. But for the remainder of Mom’s life, she honored his memory and counted it a privilege to bear the name she took on her wedding day. From that day forward whenever I wrote my mother (from Colombia where I was living) I addressed the envelope to “Mrs. Lowell Lundquist”. By that simple gesture I remembered with her the love that she felt for my father, and the joy she experienced in being known by his name.

I like to tell that story whenever I conduct a wedding where the bride takes her husband’s name. I offer a prayer for Miss Jones that it will always be a joy for her to say “I am Mrs. Smith.” And I admonish the groom, Smith, telling him that his behavior must be so noble, so exemplary, so loving, that his wife will never have cause to despise the name she bears. Let that name be to her a source of righteous pride, I tell him.

Things are different of course for older couples when they marry. My bride and I are in our 40s. At that age a woman’s professional identity may be bound to the name she has been using. None of us would know who “Joni Tada” is, but we all know Joni Eareckson Tada as that stunningly gracious and productive quadriplegic who makes us glorify God and wonder why we have not done more with our lives. And Elizabeth will always be Elliot, even though she married a couple times after Mr. Elliot gave his life to bring Jesus to the Aucas.

An older woman may also have children who share her name, and would like to keep it that way when she remarries. That makes sense too. I like the fact that my sons and I share a name, and would not want to deny that pleasure to the widowed mother of three who took my hand in marriage.

So when Lisa and I got engaged I told her to feel free to do whatever she wanted with her surname. She was happy about that, because all her job-related paperwork was in her old name, and she still had a daughter in school bearing that name. But then she said to me, “But I want to be Mrs. Lundquist!” So she worked out a compromise where she hyphenates, and now - solely for my sake, because she loves me - she endures the inconvenience of a 6-syllabled, 23-lettered name that runs off the end of the page.

I like the other name we both go by, “Christian”. It is good and short and powerful, and I’ve always preferred it to the longer and less wieldy “Protestant” or “Evangelical”. It’s an eternal name too, one that no change of status can ever alter or compromise. A mere ring can be taken off, and a tattoo removed, but “Christian” is stamped indelibly on our souls and will remain long after our mortal flesh has decayed and we are safe in the presence of God. And who could ever be ashamed of that name?