The Name We Use

For forty years I was called Reverend, and I answered to it. It was printed on envelopes, spoken across this room, and stitched onto a little black shirt I wore until the collar gave out.

Then I put the pulpit down, and people asked what they should call me now. I said Michael, because that was my name before anyone trusted me with a title.

Here, you may call me Friend if that helps, but do not make the word larger than the work. A friend does not stand above you, and does not pretend to know your heart from across the room.

A friend brings the extra chair, tells you when the coffee has burned, and stays long enough to hear the answer. I do not know whether a name can carry care by itself.

I know only that when we use one another’s names gently, we make it harder to turn a person into a problem.