“Lord, have mercy/ On my descendants/ For they know not/ What they do/ For they know not
Who you are.” ~ “Pillar of Truth” by Lucy Dacus
It’s been about four hours since the birth, and now that everyone is calm and happy and relaxing, I take a minute to steal away. I descend softly down the stairs, down the corridor, and into the dim, cool, silent wood and stone chapel. On the side is the naive where the tabernacle waits, the red lamp is lit and glowing. I kneel.
“Thank you. Thank you for the gift of my son. Thank you for the gift of his life, his healthy delivery. For his mother, his sister, our whole family. I’m really overwhelmed with gratitude for these blessings. Thank you. Really.”
I pause. I look around. I breathe in the quiet for a moment.
“If I’m being honest … I’m a bit nervous. About raising a son. It’s a … confusing time to be raising a young man. A confusing time to know what it means to be a man, with so many different, conflicting ideas of manhood competing for attention. Some quite uplifting, but so many so destructive, so toxic … so short of what I hope my son will be and become.
“That’s why we named him after you. Joshua. He’ll know you by a different name of course — the Latin derivative, instead of the Hebrew — but still, he’s named for you. Please teach him, your namesake, by your example of what it means to be a man.
Meet baby Joshua (image courtesy of Steven Cottam)
“Teach him that courage does not mean the willingness to inflict pain, but the willingness to endure it for the good.
“Teach him that it is stronger to control anger, greed, and lust than to give it free rein and inflict it upon others.
“Teach him that the proper use of power is the defense of the powerless.
“Teach him that to protect and provide for his family does not stop with those who share his features, but extends to all his brothers and sisters in need.
“Teach him that it is better to die as an innocent, than to live as an oppressor.
“So many have said to me, about my son, ‘How exciting, a son!’
’Yes, exciting!’ I say.
‘He’ll get to be the one to pass on your name.’
‘Well, yes,’ I say. ‘Maybe. Probably. Unless of course he is called to a different path. To be a religious brother. Or a priest. Should we be so blessed.’
‘Well, sure … but you don’t want your only son to be a priest. Who would pass on your name?’
“Hmm. Good question. Who would pass on my name? I’ll be honest Lord. It doesn’t matter to me if my name is passed on. It doesn’t matter to me if my descendants remember me. But please, Lord, let my son pass on your name. Let my descendants remember you. Let them know who you are.
“Please remember this your namesake. Remember him by granting him the grace to remember you — your name, your life, and to call upon you all the days of his.
“Amen.”
Steven Cottam serves as youth minister at Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic Church. He lives in Mechanicsville, Virginia, with his lovely wife, precocious daughter and adorable infant son. He is an active member of Common Change, a group which seeks to gather and distribute tithe money in a relational and collaborative way. He has been friends with Sister Julia ever since they were students, coworkers, and cooking club members together at Catholic Theological Union in Chicago. His interests and passions include language learning, gardening, coffee, and becoming a Jedi Master.
