‘What’s In A Name?’ Part1 – Family Resemblance

I’m a Kasper.

Perhaps this goes as something unsaid. Obvious.

I have been a Kasper for 22 years...since the day I was born and the nine months which preceded it. It’s one of those things you don’t exactly get to choose...

But I am a Kasper.

Through and through.

The perhaps, most epic and known plays of all time is Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet”. And with it comes the unforgettable and cherished line: “What's in a name? That which we call a rose/By any other name would smell as sweet.”

The audience cheers silently, the reader smirks. ‘Yes! Deny the father! Refuse the name! That girl has a point! The name doesn’t make the person, the person makes the name! Go for it!’

Sort of. But not really. We’re wrong. Juliet is wrong. A rose by any other name does smell a little less sweet. There is much in a name. The name comes with expectations. The name brings definition.

Hubert Humphrey once wrote: “In real life, unlike in Shakespeare, the sweetness of the rose depends upon the name it bears. Things are not only what they are. They are, in very important respects, what they seem to be.”

I am no different. I am what I seem to be. My name is no different. Being a Kasper says a lot about me. Whether I want it to or not (more on this tomorrow?).

I guess I’ve always been aware of this, to a point. But I’ve never been around a lot of other “Kaspers”. My immediate relatives are several hours away. I could be connected to my parents and siblings growing up, but never anyone else. This alone said something about who I was and who I was expected to be, but my lines go deeper.

I’m in the process of spending two weeks at my grandparent’s house as I write this. It’s the longest I’ve spent in Ionia since I was six...when I lived here. Kaspers...my grandparents, my uncles, my cousins...they are well-known around these parts. Yesterday grandpa took me out for lunch and was greeted again and again and again by various customers throughout the small café. Everyone seemed to know him. And I was with him and so demanded an introduction. “And who is this?” they would say pointing to me, “does Marian [my grandmother] know about your young dates?” “This is my granddaughter, Anika, John’s girl.” My grandpa would reply. “Oh! Well! It is so good to meet you!” In the introduction I would watch eyes and expressions elevate me on some acquaintance scale because I was related to Sid.

Being known by my name, my family of origin, is a tall order and it comes with a great deal of responsibility. My grandpa is highly respected in the Ionia area and if I am truly a Kasper, I should match. My favorite visit at the Café was a woman who came, greeted my grandpa, inquired about my identity and replied “Oh! I can see it now that you’ve said something. She looks a lot like you, Sid!” I shot my grandpa a confused and amused glance as she walked away...I had never been informed I looked like my grandfather before. Grandpa smirked at me and shrugged. “What are you looking at me like that for? I don’t even know who that lady is!” We shared a laugh but the fact of the matter remained, it didn’t matter if grandpa could have picked her out of a line-up of strangers, she knew exactly who my grandfather was and as a result was confident she knew things about me.

It made me wonder what and how and who I represent. If someone (from Ionia, say) were to meet me without my grandfather around, would they be able to see the family resemblance without the family name because of my work ethic, determination, willingness to lend a hand, desire for excellence? Would they find out I was a Kasper and say “Oh! I can see it now that you’ve said something! You look/act a lot like...[quite frankly you can fill in most any immediate Kasper grandparent, uncle, aunt or cousin name here]...!” Or would they marvel at how a pear like me could fall from the apple tree?

And it made me wonder further about what and how and Who I represent. I have a Kasper lineage but I also have namesake as a [daughter] of God (Galatians 4:6). Adopted (Ephesians 1:5) into an inheritance that will never perish, spoil, or fade (1 Peter 1:4). I have staked a claim on my faith and try, though never as painstakingly as such a name asks, to work out my salvation (Philippians 2:12). ‘Faith without works is dead’ says James 2 and my actions ought to represent the family line I am claiming. There is much held by a name (for good and for bad) when I tell someone that I’m a Christian. Do I live up to the definition that name gives in the way that I should? Furthermore, what if someone were to meet me without that label, that title, that name? Would they see my service, my hope, my desire to be gracious and forgiving towards others, my perseverance, my patience, my peace, my joy, and most of all my love? Would they find out I was a follower of Christ, a professing child of God and say “Oh! I can see it now that you’ve said something! You look a lot like Jesus!” Or would they try and speculate how I could possibly be what I claimed?

Some day, I hope I’m confused for Jesus. May a declaration like “I am Child of God!” seem as obvious and unsaid as stating “I am a Kasper”. May being known by my name and the identity I hold in Christ always be my greatest pursuit and most obvious recognition...