Upon this Rock

My parents named me Robert; I had nothing to do with it. For most of my life, I really wished my name was stronger. My mother says she had hoped to call me Peter, but my father wanted to name me after his brother, Robert, aka Uncle Bob. Uncle Bob was bald by the time I met him and the name Mullen translates from Gaelic as "son of bald one". For years I thought my heritage would include a shiny dome. I'm happy to report I still have a full head of hair.

Still, Robert seems too formal to me, Rob a bit too soft and Bob a shortened clown name, as in Bobo! I could have lived with Pete. My nickname Moon has stood up for more than 40 years, but trying to explain I didn't get it by hanging my ass out a car window on Church Street grows old. My brother suggested I use my initials in place of my surname similar to GK Chesterton, WH Auden or JR Ewing (I ran out of real examples). RK Mullen? It has a ring.

Last weekend a friend of mine gave me a prayer card of Saint Robert. I guess I knew there was a Saint Robert, but I didn't know anything about him. I have a pewter statue collection of the major saints and thought of adding Robert to the mix at one time, but unfamiliar with his life, I considered it vanity to put him among Peter, Paul, John, James, Mark, Luke et al.

Well it turns out Robert was a Jesuit priest, later cardinal, who shortly after the Protestant Reformation wrote a document to help defend Catholicism against false teachings being spread within Protestant kingdoms. A Doctor of the Church, he developed a catechism for both children and teachers. A prolific writer, had the Internet been around in 1580, he'd have been a busy blogger. Today Robert is the patron saint of canon lawyers and catechists.

I'm warming up to my name.

In August I went to a Mass where a priest called everyone by name as they came up for Communion. As the parishioner approached he would say, "Body of Christ, Marie. Body of Christ, Joseph. Body of Christ, Yolanda." [I know you 3 guys read my blog!]

I was so impressed at the close community he had established I stayed after Mass to talk with him. He asked my name and, despite advising I was an infrequent visitor, insisted he had a talent for remembering names and would recall mine.

On Monday I went back to his church and as I approached for Communion he said, "Body of Christ, Jim." Jim? Shock waves went through my body. Could it be that Marie is really Betty? Joseph actually Thomas? Go ahead, pick a card, any card!

Again on Thursday I went back to his church and as I approached for Communion Father said, "Body of Christ, Bill." I had an urge to blurt out laughter, but stayed within the moment, thank God. Hey, at least Bill starts with a B. Father is getting closer and it's only a matter of time before he calls me Bob.

Robert won't be far behind. I'd like that.

Print this post