Spotlight: Xavier

I started this post back in September, but was a bit overwhelmed by the depths of my emotion while writing it that I kept putting off finishing it, and putting it off and putting it off …

But I’m feeling energetic today, and I’ve got the Journey channel playing on Pandora, and I’m giving my older five haircuts, which is always a task that I sort of dread (even though I’m always happy at the outcome, and oh my are they looking shaggy right now), so I’m happy to have an interesting something to do in between shearings (they go right in the tub after, so I have a few minutes between each while I’m just letting them soak. So this post is an all-morning endeavor).

So: Xavier. Awesome awesome name. There is no cooler first initial than X, first of all, and St. Francis Xavier is just an amazing patron saint (side note: do you know the CCC saint movies? My boys love the Francis Xavier one — there’s fighting and swords and samurais and it just cannot get any better for a boy). It’s a bit trendy right now, but who cares when it’s got such deep Catholicky Catholic roots?! Also: trendy saint name=evangelization! Woo!

Xavier’s got great nicknames too — X, Xave, Xavey. There’s a little Xavier in my life who started out going mostly by Xavey but has recently declared that he prefers Xave. (He’s five.)

I know you’re wondering, so what’s the big deal? What’s with the “depths of emotion” that I mentioned in the beginning? Why on earth did I put off finishing this post for six long months?

One word: PRONUNCIATION.

Ohmyword, the conversations about the “proper” or “correct” or “only right” pronunciation of Xavier hit my very last name nerve.

This is the deal, this is *the only* thing anyone needs to know about the proper pronunciation of Xavier: There are more than one. Period the end.

Please don’t anyone feel offended if you believe there is only one right way to say it — I’m very sorry if I’m coming across too strong. I used to feel as you did, before I read (and read and read and read) America’s opinions about the pronunciation of Xavier.

For you linguist-types (which I’d like to include myself in, but I think a real linguist would laugh at me) I can give what I think is a pretty decent academic argument in favor of my position that both the ex-ZAY-vyer and ZAY-vyer pronunciations are valid.

Okay, to start: Yes, in American English, the basic rule is:

1. If the /X/ is between a vowel and consonant sound then it is usually pronounced as /KS/

2. If the /X/ is between two vowel sounds then it is usually pronounced as /GZ/

Of course, there is always an exception to every pronunciation rule in English.  If the letter X is at the beginning of a word, then it is sometimes pronounced Z.

Do note that “usually” and “sometimes” are used throughout that quote, and not once does it say “always” or “never”; this tells more about the exceptions to the “rule.”

Then there’s this:

Xylophone is from the Greek xylon, which is … pronounced with an initial [ks]. Many words borrowed from Greek via French developed a [gz] pronunciation along the way, which was reduced to [z] word-initially when adopted into English.”

and

“English, like some other languages, systematically reduces certain consonant clusters; but it has a conservative spelling system (which incidentally often reminds us where a word comes from).

The clusters we reduce are mostly in borrowings from other languages: particularly initial clusters /ks/ (‘x’), /pt/, /pn/ which are generally from Greek, but also for example /hr/ (and in fact /h/ anywhere but initial) as in “Tahrir square”.

This reduction happens in some native words as well: initial /kn/ as in ‘knave’ is pronounced /n/ in modern English, though the related word ‘Knabe’ in German still has the /k/ pronounced; and words like ‘night’, old English ‘niht’ (with the /h/ pronounced), cf German ‘Nacht’.”

Which I quite like, both because I’ve always wondered how it was that Xavier-pronounced-ex escaped the basic American English rule that x- words are pronounced with a z, and because it points out the “ks” idea, which I think is the key.

Here’s my hypothesis: What people variously call the ex-ZAY-vyer or eggs-AY-vyer or ig-ZAY-vyer pronunciation is really the evolution of an original ks-AY-vyer pronunciation. It’s pointed out in the Greek example above, and I was reading the other day a book called Polish First Names by Sophie Hodorowicz Knab and Ksawery is the Polish version of Xavier. There’s that Ks-!

But so many seem SO RELUCTANT to admit that both pronunciations are valid! And it doesn’t seem academic — it seems personal, empirical, subjective. Despite the fact that any name source that provides pronunciations always provides both (behindthename, babynamewizard, and nameberry are three examples [although Nameberry’s entry also includes this annoying and incorrect tidbit: “Note that though that the initial ‘x’ does have a distinct appeal, the correct pronunciation has it beginning with a ‘z’ sound”), people still insist that only one or the other is the *only* correct one (usually the ZAY-vyer pronunciation), usually based on their own experiences.

In my experience, ex-ZAY-vyer was the only pronunciation I knew, and I therefore thought it was the only one and certainly the correct one. As I learned more, I suspected it might be that the ex-ZAY-vyer pronunciation was more common in Catholic circles; even the Baby Name Wizard book had in its first edition that ex-ZAY-vyer was the “Catholic and X-men” pronunciation.

But then as I learned more, I discovered that that wasn’t watertight either — and even the BNW book, in its most recent edition, changed it to ex-ZAY-vyer being only the X-men pronunciation.

This discussion thread and this one too on the BNW forums suggested variations in pronunciation might be regional (and some also pointed to the idea of ex- being a Catholic pronunciation), but there were some commenters whose location and Catholicism seemed to dispute that. In fact, some of them pointed to the (Catholic) Xavier Universities as the benchmark for how to say the name … with a z:

the press in towns around the American Xavier Universities (one in Ohio, one in Louisiana) enjoy making fun of non-locals who do the “egg” pronunciation, even writing that when they quote the people, like during NCAA basketball tournaments, a time when these Catholic schools are more likely to be in the national spotlight”

and

“I spent 25 years in New Orleans, and I dare say the universities know how to pronounce their names

But then this, in the same thread, seemed much more balanced:

I’ve heard the Xavier University argument before, but I don’t find it convincing as far as what the English pronunciation of Xavier is *supposed* to be — all it says to me is the two universities chose ZAY-vyer as their pronunciation so yes, anyone who calls them ex-ZAY-vyer University would be incorrect, because that’s not their chosen pronunciation. I know other Catholic entities named after the saint that pronounce it ex-ZAY-vyer.”

I recently heard someone refer to the ex- pronunciation as an Americization (?) (by which she meant “incorrect”) of the proper pronunciation. A commenter on one of the threads linked to above said this:

This issue is SOLELY an anglophone problem for this Basque-origin name. Other languages, such as French and Spanish, have clear, single ways of pronouncing the name. And none of them try and and say “X,” whether that means “eks,” “eeks,” or “equis.” It’s solely from the British English and their anglicization of a foreign name, not part of the name’s origins. As I always tell people, you don’t pronounce “eks” to start xylophone, Xerxes, Xena, Xanadu, or Xanax, either.”

which sounds very fancy and educated, but she’s incorrect in that (1) I’ve already shown that both Greek and Polish say “ks” when beginning at least some x- words/names, which is what I argue the ex- pronunciation is really doing, and (2) while the examples she offers of various x- words and X- names are ones that are only said with a z sound, she didn’t include yet another exception to the “rule,” which bolsters my argument: Xenia.

Are any of you familiar with the name Xenia? It’s Greek, and also used in Poland and Russia, and while the ZEE-nyah pronunciation is used, it seems the ks-AYN-yah pronunciation is more prevalent. It’s even spelled Ksenia sometimes. (Also, how fun to know that several Sts. Xenia are revered in the Orthodox Church!) The BNW book includes it as an entry, so it must be used *enough* in the U.S., and yet there was no discussion of the “proper” pronunciation beginning with z, or that the ks pronunciation is wrong.

So what does this all boil down to? Both pronunciations are fine and acceptable. ex-ZAY-vyer is not incorrect, though I might be more inclined to call it the k-SAY-vyer pronunciation. I will absolutely support your right to pronounce your child’s name any way you wish (since, when it comes to proper names, no one has the market on the “correct” pronunciation, so say the Sisters that taught my mom) — but I will also argue tooth-and-nail with you if you try to tell me that the ex/ks pronunciation is wrong.

There. Glad to have that sorted.

I did try to come up with a list of names that are pronounced in such a way that don’t follow American English pronunciation “rules” and thought of Thomas (the Th pronounced T) and Camille (the i pronounced ee) and Padraig (no one bats an eye at saying PAW-drig instead of PAD-rig) and Siobhan (not easy for a lot of people to remember how to say, but I don’t hear anyone saying shi-VAUN is wrong) and Nathalie (the French spelling but as far as I know no one fusses and insists on saying the th as th rather than T like Thomas), also Rene(e) and Desiree …

One last thought: I saw someone online say once that the disagreement over the pronunciation of Xavier was enough to make her not want to even consider using it for her son. PLEASE do not let that be your takeaway from this post. It’s an AMAZING name with an amazing patron  saint. All that’s required when people wonder about the pronunciation or say your version is wrong is to state simply which pronunciation you use and that both are considered acceptable, just as you would if you named your daughter Lucia or Lara or Corinne. If they tell you you’re wrong, send them this link.

What do you think of all this? Have I lost any readers over my strong opinion that both pronunciations of Xavier are valid? Can you think of other proper names, used here in America, whose pronunciations don’t follow the “rules” and yet they’re accepted as fine?

Backwards?

You’ve all heard of the name Nevaeh, yes? It’s “heaven” backwards, and the Baby Name Wizard calls it “the most divisive name in the country” or something similar (my BNW book is upstairs … as is the sleeping baby … so I’m just going with what I think I remember) — people either love it or looooathe it. Probably Loathe it, capital L. I have read some truly hateful things said about the name and anyone who would bestow it on their daughter.

It’s not my style, for sure, but I can see the appeal — it’s got a pretty sound, and it’s sort of clever that a good and holy word spelled backwards can make a feasible given name. (In the same vein, I’ve also seen Traeh [“heart” backwards].)

Most of the commentary, professional and otherwise, that I’ve seen on Nevaeh includes references to its trendy date-stamped-ness (it is a very very new creation, ca. 2000), but I was thinking the other day about Nomar Garciaparra. Nomar’s actually his middle name (his first is Anthony), and it’s his father’s name, Ramon, spelled backward. I’ve never once seen any negative commentary about Nomar’s name. So there is some precedent for a “backwards name” to be okay, and it’s not an entirely new trend (since Garciaparra was named five years before I was born). I was trying to think of other names that are backwards versions of “normal” names or words when I remembered one I’d read in that book by Withycombe I like to quote (it just fascinates me): Senga.

Its entry for Senga says:

[T]his name, common in parts of Scotland, is said to be simply a variant of Agnes … obtained by spelling it backwards.”

Crazy, right?? This book was first published in 1945. The behindthename entry nods to this traditional understanding of the name, though then says that it’s “more likely derived from Gaelic seang ‘slender.'” But then a commenter for that entry says, “Wherever I look this up it is only listed as Agnes spelled backwards, it started in Scotland.”

Isn’t all that interesting? I particularly noticed it because Agnes is such a traditional, Catholic, saintly name, but until recently it didn’t really sing to modern ears (it’s on its way up! Actresses Jennifer Connelly and Elisabeth Shue both named their daughters Agnes in 2011 and 2006, respectively), so I could totally see parents wanting to honor Beloved Grandma Agnes and not knowing how to and then rejoicing when they figured out Senga. I mean, it doesn’t work for me, but I could see it.

What do you think of Nevaeh, Nomar, and Senga? Have you heard of any other names that are names or words spelled backwards?

Great conversation!

I loved all your thoughts on sharing or not sharing names before birth! Thank you all for leaving such thoughtful comments! ❤

We do share our names ahead of time. I kind of love seeing people’s reactions, good and bad, to our ideas. Negative reactions don’t bother me too much, and sometimes I find them helpful. For example, when we were considering Oliver and some variation of Joseph for Boy #3, both my brothers, in separate conversations, were like, “Really? You’re okay with OJ initials?” Huh. We’d never once thought anything of the initials, but knowing that they meant something (negative) to my brothers gave us more information with which to make our decision. I’m totally fine with deciding to bestow a name that others might not like (and have, every time, since there’s always someone who doesn’t care for our ideas), but I really want to know what the objections are so that our name choice is a totally free one. I also really like educating others about names — the wrinkled noses at some of my faves have allowed me to teach others about those names, which I always find fun. I’m pretty sure most people I know never gave two thoughts to my unrequited name love Joachim before hearing about it from me.

Also, I’ve seen some people (online and in real life) choose names for their children that they didn’t share ahead of time, only to find out after the baby’s born and named that the chosen name had some horrible or unsavory significance that they didn’t know. Oof.

But I also totally get the not-wanting-to-share. So many people have thoughtless uninformed opinions on names, don’t they? And so sad to have the happiness and excitement of your baby-on-the-way overshadowed by negative chatter from those you love about the name you love for the baby you love. Getting opinions from strangers online — like here, or other name web sites — seems like a really good way to find out a name’s full impression profile without opening it up to criticism from friends and family.

Thank you all again! I have another busy day here — most notably because it’s my baby’s first birthday!! — but my post topics are starting to pile up — I have a lot of things to talk about! So I do hope to have some good meaty posts over the next few days. Happy Thursday to you all!

To share or not to share?

I’ve got a few things I want to post about, but a busy day here so I’ll just leave you with this question for now:

Do you share with others the names you’re considering for your baby before the baby’s born, or do you wait until birth? Why or why not?

The skinny on Lydia

I looked up the thing about Lydia being a daughter of St. Joseph — indeed a passage called “The History of Joseph the Carpenter” in one of apocryphal books known as the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy she is listed, along with sister Assia and brothers Judas, Justus, James, and Simon, as the child of St. Joseph from his first marriage (second paragraph).

Regarding this particular book (from New Advent):

Arabic Gospel of the Infancy

The Arabic is a translation of a lost Syriac original. The work is a compilation and refers expressly to the “Book of Joseph Caiphas, the High-Priest”, the “Gospel of the Infancy”, and the “Perfect Gospel”. Some of its stories are derived from the Thomas Gospel, and others from a recension of the apocryphal Matthew. However there are miracles, said to have occurred in Egypt, not found related in any other Gospel, spurious or genuine, among them the healings of leprosy through the water in which Jesus had been washed, and the cures effected through the garments He had worn. These have become familiar in pious legend. So also has the episode of the robbers Titus and Dumachus, into whose hands the Holy Family fell. Titus bribes Dumachus not to molest them; the Infant foretells that thirty years thence the thieves will be crucified with Him, Titus on His right and Dumachus on His left and that the former will accompany Him into paradise. The apocryphon abounds in allusions to characters in the real Gospels. Lipsius opines that the work as we have it is a Catholic retouching of a Gnostic compilation. It is impossible to ascertain its date, but it was probably composed before the Mohammedan era. It is very popular with the Syrian Nestorians. An originally Arabic “History of Joseph the Carpenter” is published in Tischendorf’s collection of apocrypha. It describes St. Joseph’s death, related by Our Lordto His disciples. It is a tasteless and bombastic effort, and seems to date from about the fourth century.”

Also this (from here on New Advent):

It will not be without interest to recall here, unreliable though they are, the lengthy stories concerning St. Joseph’s marriage contained in the apocryphal writings. When forty years of age, Joseph married a woman called Melcha or Escha by some, Salome by others; they lived forty-nine years together and had six children, two daughters and four sons, the youngest of whom was James (the Less, “the Lord’s brother”). A year after his wife’s death, as the priests announced through Judea that they wished to find in the tribe of Juda a respectable man to espouse Mary, then twelve to fourteen years of age. Joseph, who was at the time ninety years old, went up to Jerusalem among the candidates; a miracle manifested the choice God had made of Joseph, and two years later the Annunciation took place. These dreams, as St. Jerome styles them, from which many a Christian artist has drawn his inspiration (see, for instance, Raphael’s “Espousals of the Virgin”), are void of authority; they nevertheless acquired in the course of ages some popularity; in them some ecclesiastical writers sought the answer to the well-known difficulty arising from the mention in the Gospel of “the Lord’s brothers”; from them also popular credulity has, contrary to all probability, as well as to the tradition witnessed by old works of art, retained the belief that St. Joseph was an old man at the time of marriage with the Mother of God.”

So they’re “void of authority,” but definitely interesting!

Happy Feast of St. Joseph! And a name by any other spelling?

Happy St. Joseph’s Day! Especially to my Italian-heritaged readers! What a wonderful feast day, what a wonderful saint!

We considered Joseph for our third son before we decided to give it to our fourth, and when we were first thinking of it, when #3 was on his way, we considered spelling it Jozef (or was it Josef?), because Pope Benedict’s name had been spelled that way. Of course, now that I look it up, in order to provide a link to Jos/zef Cardinal Ratzinger, I’m only seeing the Joseph spelling. So maybe I’m crazy? I just looked it up on behindthename and Josef and Jozef are listed as variants of Joseph in Czech and Polish and Dutch … but not German. So now I have a memory coming back that maybe we liked the Polish version (Józef)? Because my father-in-law’s family is from Poland? (We would not have used the accent.)

Anyway. We did consider that spelling, and when we got to #4 we had abandoned the unusual spelling for the usual, and all has been fine, and I’m very happy with the spelling Joseph.

I was thinking last night about spellings of names, and how spelling really really makes a difference to me. Does it to you? I mean, on the one hand, in day-to-day life, the spelling of one’s name barely matters. You hear what you hear, and who cares if your best friend’s name is Kelly or Ckelleigh? It all sounds the same, and that sound is what you associate with your best friend, and it’s a pleasing sound because of it.

But we’re not an audio-only society, and the visual adds a whole dimension to names, doesn’t it? For example, I’m not a huge fan of the name McKayla. I can definitely see its appeal — it’s kind of cool and kicky with the Mc- beginning — it’s got an Irish feel, it’s got a surname feel. The Kayla part is pretty and feminine. Put cool and kicky with pretty and feminine and it’s sort of obvious why it’s spread like wildfire all over the country in recent years. It’s just not my style, you know? But you know what name I looooove? Michaela. Or Micaela. I’m good with either of those spellings. Guess how I pronounce Mic(h)aela? Exactly like McKayla.

Off the top of my head, other names that have totally different feels for me based on their spellings are:

John and Jon

Julia and Giulia

Sara(h) and Sera (like Serafina)

Even Juliet and Juliette

And not only do the names have different feels for me based on their spellings, but I get a different impression of people themselves based on the spelling of their name (before I get to know them. After that, I find spelling doesn’t influence me in regards to how I feel about them one way or the other). If I was reading over two resumes, one for a Jon and one for a John, I’d have a totally impression of each, exclusively based on the spelling of their name. (So unfair, right? It’s not Jon/John’s fault, this one’s on Mom and Dad. Parents, beware!)

Swistle had a post somewhat recently where I first really took notice of this: the older child, a girl, has a first-middle combo that are both nouns used as names, and her husband really wanted to consider the name Noel for their second if it was a boy. It’s not really my favorite name for a boy, and I find the pronunciation NOLE (which is what they intended to use) sort of … something. I don’t know, maybe hard to say? I know that’s weird, because it’s such a simple sound, and especially considering that a reader suggested changing the spelling to Knoll, to fit better with the nature-y noun name the big sister had, and ohmygoodess I was blown away by the brilliance of that suggestion and what I considered to be the perfectness of it for that family. Why on earth would Knoll strike me as so fabulous and the sound of it not bother me at all — in fact, I thought it *sounded* pretty cool with that spelling — but Noel, with the exact same pronunciation, was not really doing it for me. There was also an interesting post on BNW just the other day, where a reader was asking about the name Ceilidh for a little girl, which is a noun (the name of a dance-party type thing in Irish), and it’s pronounced just like Kaylee. I don’t love Kaylee, but I kind of love Ceilidh!

What about the rest of you? Do you find that knowing the spelling of a name influences how you feel about either the name and/or the person with the name?

The new-to-me story of Anastasia and Salome

I posted a quote the other day from The Oxford Dictionary of English Christian Names by EG Withycombe stating that Anastasia “in medieval legend was attached to the Virgin’s midwife.” Which basically blew my mind. I’m not unaware of the Nativity story, you know? And yet I’d never once even considered the idea that Our Lady had a midwife. On the one hand — wasn’t Jesus’ birth miraculous, “without any violation to her physical, external virginity. As the Fathers of the Church explained, as ‘light passes through glass without harming the glass’, so Jesus was born with Mary’s Virginity ‘in tact’, that is with the preservation of her physical virginity“? So, you know, what would a midwife do? But then, as this possibility presented itself, I thought, surely it does make sense that Our Lady would have a midwife, especially if she and/or St. Joseph was/were unaware of how the birth would proceed. And midwives do more than just catch the baby, don’t they? It makes perfect sense that Our Lady would have women attend her, to help her through labor, to wipe her brow, to soothe St. Joseph. If I’m suggesting a scene that doesn’t fit with Church tradition, please tell me!

It seems the apocryphal Gospel of James is the source of the story of Our Lady’s midwife:

19. And I [St. Joseph] saw a woman coming down from the hill-country, and she said to me: O man, whither are you going? And I said: I am seeking an Hebrew midwife. And she answered and said unto me: Are you of Israel? And I said to her: Yes. And she said: And who is it that is bringing forth in the cave? And I said: A woman betrothed to me. And she said to me: Is she not your wife? And I said to her: It is Mary that was reared in the temple of the Lord, and I obtained her by lot as my wife. And yet she is not my wife, but has conceived of the Holy Spirit.

And the midwife said to him: Is this true? And Joseph said to her: Come and see. And the midwife went away with him. And they stood in the place of the cave, and behold a luminous cloud overshadowed the cave. And the midwife said: My soul has been magnified this day, because my eyes have seen strange things— because salvation has been brought forth to Israel. And immediately the cloud disappeared out of the cave, and a great light shone in the cave, so that the eyes could not bear it. And in a little that light gradually decreased, until the infant appeared, and went and took the breast from His motherMary. And the midwife cried out, and said: This is a great day to me, because I have seen this strange sight …

That midwife has, according to some (here, here), traditionally been called Anastasia. The reading continues:

And the midwife went forth out of the cave, and Salome met her. And she said to her: Salome, Salome, I have a strange sight to relate to you: a virgin has brought forth— a thing which her nature admits not of. Then said Salome: As the Lord my God lives, unless I thrust in my finger, and search the parts, I will not believe that a virgin has brought forth.

20. And the midwife went in, and said to Mary: Show yourself; for no small controversy has arisen about you. And Salome put in her finger, and cried out, and said: Woe is me for mine iniquity and mineunbelief, because I have tempted the living God; and, behold, my hand is dropping off as if burned with fire. And she bent her knees before the Lord, saying: O God of my fathers, remember that I am the seed of Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob; do not make a show of me to the sons of Israel, but restore me to the poor; for You know, O Lord, that in Your name I have performed my services, and that I have received my reward at Your hand. And, behold, an angel of the Lord stood by her, saying to her: Salome, Salome, the Lord has heard you. Put your hand to the infant, and carry it, and you will have safety and joy. And Salome went and carried it, saying: I will worship Him, because a great King has been born to Israel. And, behold, Salome was immediately cured, and she went forth out of the cave justified. And behold a voice saying: Salome, Salome, tell not the strange things you have seen, until the child has come into Jerusalem.

Straightforward enough, though the Gospel of James has always been a mystery to me — are we to consider it to have some authority or not? Fortunately, I came across a note about that, when I was looking up Sts. Anne and Joachim, as I thought they too had been part of the same writing:

Tradition nevertheless, grounded on very old testimonies, very early hailed Saints Joachim and Anne as the father and mother of the Mother of God. True, this tradition seems to rest ultimately on the so-called “Gospel of James”, the “Gospel of the Nativity of the Blessed Mary”, and the Pseudo-Matthew, or “Book of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary and of the Childhood of the Saviour”; and this origin is likely to rouse well-founded suspicions. It should be borne in mind, however, that the apocryphal character of these writings, that is to say, their rejection from the canon, and their ungenuineness do not imply that no heed whatever should be taken of some of their assertions; side by side, indeed, with unwarranted and legendary facts, they contain some historical data borrowed from reliable traditions or documents; and difficult though it is to distinguish in them the wheat from the tares, it would be unwise and uncritical indiscriminately to reject the whole.

I could be wrong, but it seems then that there’s nothing wrong with considering the story of Anastasia and Salome. Even if the details aren’t quite true, they might be, and they proclaim the miraculous birth of Jesus.

Moving on from that, there seems to be some confusion as to who had the withered hand upon examining Mary’s virginity — the passage above says it was Salome; the abstract for this article notes that, “In an early fifteenth-century French book of hours (Getty MS 57), St Anastasia, born without hands, kneels in worshipful adoration with Mary and Joseph before the newborn Christ Child. According to apocrypha, Anastasia believed in the miraculous divine birth, and when she held the Christ Child in her arms, God rewarded her faith by sending an angel bringing new, beautiful hands … This article examines the iconography of the Getty Nativity and observes that the Anastasia legend parallels the apocryphal narrative of the midwife Salome. ”

So a little confusion there, furthered by St. Anastasia’s feast day being the same as Christmas; there’s also some speculation that the midwife Salome may be the same who is known as St. Mary Salome (and if so, what a great connection that she was one of the first to see the newborn Savior, and was also there at His Resurrection).

Had any of you known any of this? Do any of you have further insight into or knowledge about this story and these women? Does this story make the names Anastasia and Salome more or less appealing?

Parish directory

I was looking through an old parish directory recently and enjoyed these sib sets (alt characters used for privacy):

R0salie, T3ssy, Soph!a, and El!za

Br!an, S3an, Cas3y (g),* Col!n, and Mara

M0lly, Grady, and Cla!re

Gr!ffin, T3ss, and N3ll

B3n, Sara, and N0ra

Just!n, Isab3lle, and Al3ssandra

Ke3gan (b),* Qu!nn (b),* and Ol!via (I’m always interested to see how families handle it when they use androgynous-ish names* — generally it seems only one gender gets the unisex names while the other gets an unquestionably masculine or feminine name)

Have you heard of any well named sib sets you’d like to share?

———————–

*Just to clarify — I’m not making a judgment about the names Ke3gan, Qu!nn, and Cas3y by calling them “androgynous-ish” — just pointing out that they’re currently used for both boys and girls. I say “ish” because I personally still consider Ke3gan a boy’s name, though I know a girl with it, so I wouldn’t call it androgynous, but others might. The other two names I’ve heard equally for boys and girls, and I might even say they skew feminine in my experience.

Did you know this about Anastasia?

I don’t even want to reference the other Anastasia that’s been flooding the media, so I won’t (and if you don’t know what I’m talking about, blessed are you), but I will say that this gorgeous name has a tiny bit of a taint for me at the moment. But then I read this today, and while I’ll have to do some digging to find out more (and I don’t have time right now, as a certain 11 month old wants breakfast), I’ll just leave you with it, and if you know more, please share!

Anastasius, common in the Greek Church, was seldom used in the West, but Anastasia, the name of a 4th-C martyr mentioned in the Canon of the Mass, became a general favorite, and in medieval legend was attached to the Virgin’s midwife.”

The Oxford Dictionary of English Christian Names, EG Withycombe (21)