A boy is named “John”
by his parents. His little brother calls him “Johnny”, and his friends call him
“Jack”. His first girlfriend calls him “Jonathan”, even though that’s not what he
was christened. She just likes it better because it sounds more highbrow.
On a tour of
Europe in his twenties, the locals call him “Juan” in Madrid, “Jean” in Paris, “Giovanni”
in Rome, “Sean” in Ireland, “Jan” in Stockholm and “Ivan” in St Petersburg.
When he returns
home and marries his third girlfriend (the second called him—gasp!—“John”), she
wants to name their son for him but chooses another variation: “Zane”. John
would have preferred “Shane”, but isn’t so invested that he wants to start a
war.
A co-worker who
passed away in 2009 said two things to me that I have always remembered. One,
that he hated the Philadelphia Flyers
and couldn’t believe I’m a fan, and two, by passing along the quote at the top
of this post. Six years later, the argument continues, yet I believe that all
sides are raging over the same individual: a singular creator who is known by a
dozen different names.
But it’s not
about God at all, is it?
“When the power of love overcomes the
love of power, the world will know peace” – Jimi Hendrix
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