What's in a Name?

Cynthia. Cyndi. Sid. Syd. Cyd
Each of these has been my name during some season of my life. A friend asked me the other day if I had always been Cyd... and as another friend came at the very end of the story, she also wanted to hear it.  So I was encouraged to blog about it...

It all started with the youngest one in curls. My mom never admitted to naming me after Cindy Brady... but I can only imagine that the prime time show had something to do with the popularity of the name for girls born between 1970 and 1975. But my mom, in her urge to always be at least a little bit different, kept the Cy from my full name, Cynthia, and so decided my name would be "Cyndi." Early on, I learned to spell my name out loud as "C-Y-N-D-I" to the response of, "oh... that's an interesting spelling."

I began playing the clarinet in 5th grade and it became a compelling passion in my life, leading to my participation in the Grand Rapids Youth Symphony Orchestra in high school. But, being a person who loves variety, I wanted to branch out... and so I borrowed a friend's flute and fiddled around for a while, but had even better luck with the alto sax. I loved the rich texture of the sax and I was fortunate enough to be able to join the jazz band at my high school, along with my friends, Tom (trumpet) & Corey (sax).

Enter Joe Jackson.  (Don't worry, the pieces will all come together soon).  Tom was a big fan of Joe Jackson, and especially his Jumping Jive album.  One of the songs was a cover of a Lester Young / King Pleasure song. If you haven't heard the song, you really should follow the link and give it a listen.  It's a pretty swinging song and if you've heard it, you'll better understand the rest of the context. The song is written about Symphony Sid (Sid Torin), who has been credited as being the DJ who introduced jazz to the general public.

In addition to the alto sax's prominence, it's just a really great piece of big band jazz.  Somehow, Tom started calling me "Youth Symphony Sid" because of this song... and we did an awful lot of jumping in the city together with our friends back in the day and so it fit... aside from the "my boy" part.  Eventually, I became "Sid" to Tom & Corey and a few other friends. But Cyndi was still my name to most folks.

In 1990, I left Grand Rapids and headed to St. Olaf College, to major in clarinet performance. One of the first people to call me in my new context was Tom. My roommate, Johanna, answered the phone and Tom asked for "Sid."  When Johanna had no idea who he was talking about, he corrected himself and asked for Cyndi. After hearing me called "Sid," Johanna decided she liked that better. And so everyone on my floor started calling me Sid along with all of my new friends. However, I was still Cyndi on all of the class rosters and so Cyndi remained.

At the end of my first year, I began to see the drawbacks of having more than one name. I had a French class with Maren. We enjoyed each other in class, but never saw each other in any other context. Toward the end of our first year, our circles of friends began dancing closer to each other and Maren began to hear of this girl named "Sid" who she needed to meet. Eventually, we ended up at the same party and I was introduced to her as "Sid," to which Maren was confused because she already knew me as Cyndi. Since Sid was beginning to feel a whole lot more like me than Cyndi, I began to ask my professors to call me Sid to keep things clear.

By the time I graduated from St. Olaf, I was consistently Sid in all areas of my life, except for the few holdouts from high school and my family. But when I moved to California to take a teaching job, Cynthia was on my driver's license, social security card, and resume, and so everyone on staff at the school where I taught called me Cyndi, as did all the parents of my students. Simultaneously, my friends - both old and new - still called me Sid.

When the phone rang in my apartment in those days, I could easily discern if this was a call for Cyndi, the teacher, or for Sid, the friend. These were the days before caller ID, and so the only way to find out who was calling was the answer the phone. I was too broke to call people back long distance, and so I didn't want to miss calls from friends. However, there were times when I just didn't have the energy to have a conversation with a parent about their concerns about their child. After all, this was the year that I taught in a portable classroom with a tin roof, on which it rained for 42 consecutive school days. I taught all subjects including music, art, and PE, and I supervised my own recesses (in that portable with the rain pounding down on the roof). Consequently, I developed a bit of a dishonest habit. If I received a call from someone asking to speak to Cyndi, I replied by letting them know that she wasn't available but I would be glad to take a message. If someone asked for Sid, I was happy to say it was me.

After a year of that nonsense, I took to the woods and started teaching outdoor education at a conference center in the Santa Cruz Mountains. It was in this place, where I lived, worked, and played with the same coworkers and friends that Cyndi and Sid finally integrated into one person.

This integration stayed with me through graduate school and into directing Elderhostel programs (now called Road Scholar). After having several folks show up to the first program I directed with shocked looks when I introduced myself as Sid, I had to ask what was so shocking about my name. One outspoken gentleman finally told me that, through all the correspondence I had sent people to prepare them for the program, he had been picturing me as a middle aged man. Although he was delighted to find a young woman, he could not hide the surprise on his face at finding such a contrast.

After asking several other program participants if they had similar imaginings, I realized that changing the spelling to "Syd" might help people to understand that I was a woman. Now people just imagined my name was Sydney. All along the way, my poor mother kept lamenting the loss of the name she had given me, so intentionally keeping the "Cy" from Cynthia. She kept telling me that Cynthia means "reflector of light" because the Greek goddess, Artemis, was also called Cynthia, having been born on Mt. Cynthus. She and my Dad had named me Cynthia Joy because they hoped I would reflect the light of Christ and bring joy to everyone I met.

But my little life was filled with early loss and confusion. My Dad was killed in a car accident when I was only 17 months old. For much of my life, fears and doubts blocked me from being a reflector of light and a bringer of joy. It wasn't until after my Mom's sudden death, that I finally changed the spelling to "Cyd," reintroducing the Cy to the nickname that had become my real name. About a year later, my mother-in-law started calling me Cynthia Joy in her place.

And so, Cynthia Joy Hoekstra became Cyndi Koetje (when my mom's new husband legally adopted me), Sid Koetje (the middle aged man), and eventually Cyd Holsclaw. And hopefully, along with the spelling change, I am becoming more consistent in reflecting the light of Christ and bringing the joy of his presence into the lives of those I meet.

Surrounded by a Cloud

counter- clockwise from top left: my grandparents, Ed&Pearl Compaan,  my mother, Edna Mae Koetje, Nathan Horne being baptized on Easter Sunday.

Today, at Life on the Vine, we celebrated All Saints Day. We hadn't really made a big deal about it before... and we still have a long way to go in order to really celebrate it well. But after today, I'm convinced it's truly important.

The reason we made a big deal out of it was because a man in our community stepped forward with a passion to see it happen.  He and his family joined us last year and he had been sad that we had moved right past it without much of a blip on our radar. And so he started talking to us about it, sharing his ideas... and he led us through the litany today absolutely beautifully.

He spoke with an artist in our community, who hung black & white photos of famous predecessors in the faith: Corrie TenBoom, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, Theresa of Avila, John Howard Yoder, Rosa Parks, AB Simpson (to name only a few).  As we gathered for worship this morning, we were, quite literally, surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses.

We also brought photos of friends and family, spiritual guides and mentors, who have gone before us into perpetual worship. We laid them on the altar and we spent some time speaking their names aloud and remembering their impact on us and for the kingdom. A gong was run after each name was spoken.  

And in those moments, of speaking names and pausing for the gong, we shared one another's loss and felt the vacancy of the world without these saints. Tears ran down our cheeks and we sat in the tension of the already and the not yet. These names, which so tangibly represent the already, remind us of the perpetual tension of the not yet. Their lives have been gifts, their impact not quantifiable, and their absence is difficult.

But then we celebrated the new lives, born into our community in the last year.  After each precious new name was spoken, a light and cheery bell broke the heavy silence... and the remembrance of our loss turned to our imagination for these little ones and the parts they will play in the inbreaking kingdom.

His kingdom comes... in our loss, in our imagination for what is to come, in remembering the great cloud of witnesses, and in praying for the daily deliverance from evil in kingdom prayer.

And so, as I move into the darkening days of the fall and the winter, today frames the loss of my birth father, my mother, my grandparents into an urge to live well... to press on... to throw off everything that hinders.

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles.  And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.  For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.  Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart." Hebrews 12:1-3

Ushered into Deep Peace, Part 3

Without Christ’s presence among us, the truth can be the last thing we want to know about ourselves… and it’s certainly the last thing we want to tell each other. It’s uncomfortable.  It’s hard to interact at that depth. 

Without Christ, we can only hide… avoid… and stop shopping at Trader Joe’s.

The path of least resistance is to avoid one another… but the way of the cross is to seek peace with one another.

Christ’s presence in us, by His Holy Spirit, ushers us into deep peace with one another. 

Back to the Mom and her son...

After running a few more errands, the mom decided that the lesson that really needed to be learned for her son was the lesson of reconciliation.  Whatever else had happened, she couldn’t allow her son to live in this lie of shame and avoidance… not to mention that she needed to be able to shop at Trader Joe’s.  She explained to her son that his consequence was to go back to the man at Trader Joe’s and explain to him that he recognized the wrong he had done and was truly sorry… and to seek his forgiveness, whether forgiveness was a word in his vocabulary or not.

She promised the boy that she would go with him… but that he needed to do the talking.  He held her hand, taking deep breaths, and walked into the freezer section, where the man was  unloading a box of frozen fruit.  He looked at the man and said – in between tears, “I feel really badly about what I did.  Will you please forgive me?”  And the man said, “I forgive you.”  (the mom could have hugged the man for not brushing it off!)  “We all make mistakes,” he said… now we just need to learn from it and keep moving forward.”  And the boy heaved a huge sigh of relief and squeezed his mom’s hand.  They didn’t have to avoid Trader Joe’s anymore… because the boy had drawn near to the man… and had sought to repair the awkwardness of the relationship.  He had learned… and it was time to keep moving forward.  He had been ushered into deeper peace.

Lack of violence is not true peace.  Christ, Himself, by His Holy Spirit, is present with us… He is our peace.

The Spirit of Christ ushers us into deep peace with one another. 

Will we respond?

Ushered into Deep Peace, Part 2

Reconciling dialogue is not neat and tidy.  It’s not quick and easy.  It’s not usually comfortable.  It IS very humbling.  It’s often complicated.  But God has given us a process in Matthew 18… an invitation to enter into the reconciling work of Christ. 

It may take time for reconciliation to be complete. Sometimes, it takes a long time for God to shift our hearts and move us into places where we can really embrace peace with one another.  But, all along the journey of reconciliation, we hold the posture of seeking peace… the posture of humility depending on the Holy Spirit and trusting the presence of Christ whenever 2 or 3 gather to seek His peace.

Christ in you is too precious to Christ in me to let this go or to do this carelessly… We cannot ignore this call to reconciliation or back away from this peace because it’s too much work… or too uncomfortable. Christ trusts us with this ministry of peace.

Reconciliation isn't some extra burden or some sort of obligation.  It’s like seeing shin pads and cleats as burdensome to playing soccer.  By signing up to play soccer, we sign up to be what soccer players are… playing soccer without cleats and shin pads is not only not as effective, it’s downright dangerous. 

Playing at being a Christian without committing to living reconciled lives with one another is not effective… we are not effective ministers / ambassadors of reconciliation – AND, it’s downright dangerous!  Playing without reconciliation leaves us wide open for the injury of isolation, the bruising of resentment, the cuts of hostility, and the inflammation of the devil himself.

If we saw an athlete attempting to play in the world cup without cleats or shin guards, we might instantly laugh and write him / her off as delusional… if we claim to be followers of Christ but refuse to live reconciled lives with one another, we are laughable… and the peace of Christ is seen as a pipe dream of a delusional people.

The ministry of peace / reconciliation has been entrusted to us… we can’t just speak a ministry of peace… we ARE a people of peace.  When our peace with one another is blocked, our invitations to others to enter the peace of Christ are laughable…  because the world sees us as a delusional people who are playing soccer without cleats.  Our words have no traction. The way the world knows the peace of Christ is through the peace of His people. 

God ushers us into lives of deep peace with one another.

Ushered into Deep Peace, Part 1

Some recent thoughts on reconciliation and peace drawn from Matt. 18, 2 Corinthians 5:14-21, Ephesians 2:13-20... I'm posting this in 3 parts.  

But first, a story:

A boy and his mom were shopping at Trader Joe’s.  The mom sent her son to go get some shredded cheese while she picked up some chicken.  She stood there, trying to discern if there’s any real difference between organic and all-natural chicken… or at least any difference big enough to warrant the extra 1.70 per pound… when, out of the corner of her eye, she notices that her son and a TJ employee are looking at her and her son is pointing… and her son has that look on his face… the one that says, “please don’t be mad.”  And the TJ employee has that look on his face… the one that says, “what kind of mother are you?”

Even though the mom feels like she’d like to turn around and see who they might be pointing at, she knows she has to be the adult, and so she goes over to see what the problem is.  Turns out the son was experimenting… making the chore of getting cheese a little more interesting than it needed to be… and ended up doing some very minor product damage in the process.  The TJ employee told the mom he just wanted to “make sure you knew what was going on.”  The son immediately starts saying, “I’m so sorry, Mom… I’m so sorry.  I don’t know what I was thinking…”  Of course he’s sorry… he got caught.  Mom encourages the boy to apologize to the TJ man, which he does.  Mom offers to buy the damaged product, the TJ man says that’s not necessary… they’re so nice at Trader Joe’s!

The boy wants to flee from the scene of his crime. As they buy their groceries, the boy scans the store continuously… not wanting to see the evil man in the Hawaiian shirt again.  The Mom is thinking about how to help this boy learn a valuable lesson here through natural consequences… she says she needs to think about a consequence and he’ll need to wait until she’s prepared to let him know what that will be.

As soon as they get out of the store and into the car, the boy falls apart.  Now he’s not just sorry about getting in trouble… he’s actually sorry about what he did.  He has realized he made a mistake.  He knows he was wrong.  And he feels exposed.  He is hiding his face… trying not to cry… and he says, “I feel so ashamed.  Can we just never shop at Trader Joe’s ever again?”

He has done something wrong.  He felt terrible.  He never wanted to see the man who had drawn attention to his mistake ever again.  He was humiliated, ashamed.  He was standing naked in the garden… desperately looking for an animal skin to cover his shame.

And we’ve all been there.  Feeling naked… wanting to hide… because we did something wrong or hurtful and someone pointed it out to us… or, because we’ve been hurt and we want to build walls to protect ourselves in the future.

It’s easy to become estranged… from family members, from coworkers, from neighbors, from friends.  And it’s easy to become estranged from one another in the body of Christ.  It’s easy to start feeling strange about each other.  It’s easy to assume we know what people think of us, how people feel about us… it’s easy to write one another off as people that are too difficult to be around… 

But out of this place of making assumptions about each other… writing one another off… wanting to avoid each other…

God ushers us into lives of deep peace with one another.

God can usher us into this deep peace because it’s the peace that He, through Christ, has initiated.  Through Christ, God has reconciled Himself to us.  We estranged ourselves.  We broke all of our promises.  We spit in God’s face… but God didn’t avoid us.  All through scripture, we see that God never stopped moving toward His people.  Never avoided.  Never stopped initiating reconciling dialogue.  And in Christ’s death and resurrection, we see the completion of the reconciliation He began when He mercifully provided animals skins to cover the nakedness that imprisons us in shame and avoidance.

Through Christ, we are newly created.  Through Christ, we are new creation.  We, who were once strangers and aliens… who were once far off, have been brought near.  We are reconciled to God, through Christ.

Because we are newly created, we can see our brothers and sisters as new creation.  Christ in me sees Christ in you and wants our relationship to be ruled by Christ’s peace, love, authority, mercy - new creation.  Christ in me does not shrink away or hide from Christ in you… 

Through Christ, God ushers us into lives of deep peace with one another.