Raising Owen Part II - The Importance of Naming

Raising Owen Part II - The Importance of Naming

I wonder what was the first thing that came to Adam's mind when he saw a hippo for the first time.  God was in the middle of wowing him with a parade of animals and then BAM! A hippo.  What do you do with that sort of thing?  Adam was exercising dominion over the earth.  One of the most significant parts of this exercise was that of naming the animals.  God named Adam, Adam named that animals.  Throughout the bible, there is a tremendous significance attached to names.  Whether the name was Isaac, because of laughter or Israel for striving.  Whether it was a renaming from Abram to Abraham, Levi to Matthew, or Saul to Paul, names meant (and mean) something to God and something to parents.  Which is why we have named our son Owen Baxter.

The name Owen is tricky.  You see, my family are rabid San Jose Sharks hockey fans.  Owen Nolan used to be their captain.  Naturally, my brother Steve assumed we were naming him after a former hockey player.  My mom instantly thought of Owen Wilson, the actor.  Aside from the fact that his nose makes my nose hurt, I could not think of a poorer namesake.  Actually, that isn't true. I probably could.  I digress.  Owen does a nice poetic quality and is phonetically a "strong" sounding name.  Both of which I like but not the reason why we chose it.

We chose Owen for two reasons.  In my mind (perhaps not Kat's) neither of these reasons is the "main" reason, so pay no attention to the order of presentation.  We named Owen because Kat had read somewhere that it means "desire born."  This obviously has resonance with us because we have deeply desired a family for a couple of years now.  Owen will be a young man born to fulfill a deep desire of both Kat and I for parenthood.  We also named Owen because one of my heroes was a man named John Owen.  John Owen was a theologian and Renaissance man in 17th century.  He was a man who new what he believed and was willing to stand up for it no matter what odds were against him.  He served as Oliver Cromwell's chaplain and as the Vice-Chancellor of Oxford University for a number of years.  He is widely know as one of the most brilliant theological minds of the last 500 years.

Owen had a profound religious experience (much akin to our modern "conversion" experience) while listening to a sermon on Matthew 8:26: "And [Jesus] said to them, 'Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?"  Then he rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm."  Given our love for all things ocean, we couldn't have picked a better man to be moved by a better verse.

Baxter is a different story.  Nobody likes Baxter.  But we do.  It means, "baker."  That is not why we chose it though.  We chose it because of a man named Richard Baxter.  Richard Baxter was a Puritan pastor who was a contemporary of John Owen.  I read his books The Reformed Pastor, Saint's Everlasting Rest and Call to the Unconverted to Turn and Live while in college and they had a major formative role in shaping my theology of ministry and God's call on my life.  His books, along with one significant conversation with my pastor, are the main reasons why I am a teacher.  

An interesting historical tidbit - Owen and Baxter disagreed over their theology of Christ's atonement (Owen was right, in my humble opinion) and spent a number of years in controversy over the doctrine.  When they were both expelled from the Church of England for being Non-Conformists (too long of  a story for too short of a blog) they ended up putting aside their controversy for a time in order to minister together for the good of countless other Christians who had been expelled along with them.  It paints a pretty awesome picture for my son that his two namesakes, who disagreed and fought over some very important (yet non-salvific) issues were able to put aside the disagreements for the good of others.

The name Owen Baxter means something.  I look forward to explaining to my son where his name comes from.

Chet

P.S. Not to mention that the name Owen Baxter just rolls off the tongue.

Raising Owen

So Kat and I are adopting a little boy. Owen Baxter is going to be born on June 8th and in the kind providence of God we will be there to take him home from the hospital. It is hard to describe how excited we both are about this whole process. I could recount dozens of "small" providences that have culminated in the arrival of our son but suffice to say that again and again, we are completely floored by the perfect timing and goodness of God.

As this is a relatively uncommon way to become a first time parent, I am thankful for the many lessons already learned and anxious for the future lessons that God will teach me through this unique experience. The desire for adoption has been on my heart since I was much younger. The last 3 weeks of pursuing Owen Baxter specifically, have given me much to think about. I wanted to write down a few thoughts about parenthood and raising kids (specifically sons). While I have not yet done any of these things, I do have some ideas and hopes that I would like to share...even if it is for my own benefit.

My students just turned in their process essays and one of the prompts was: "How to raise children." They initially questioned me as to how they were supposed to know how to raise kids since they have obviously never done so. In turn I asked them, "what good is it to know how to raise kids after you are done raising them?" They nodded, obviously in awe of my incisive Socratic question and the majority proceeded to write their essay on the process of raising children. I suppose that in order to do anything well, you have to have an idea of what you want as a result. Once you have that firmly (more or less) established, you work backwards in considering how in the heck you are going to get there. So here is my process essay (of sorts) on how to raise a son (as told by a zero-parenting-experience-28-year-old man.) Take it or leave it.

Rasing Owen

Three weeks ago my wife and I got a phone call. A friend, who has been a friend for the better part of a decade, had an opportunity for us. She had known that we were in the process of getting certified for foster/adoption care. She had been working as the director of a maternity home for a while when a woman had come to her desiring to give her baby up for adoption. She called us. This woman, whom we now know and love, was carrying Owen in her womb.

As the reality has sunken in over the past 3 weeks, becoming a father for the first time, raising a son, adopting a child, and many other thoughts like these began to bang around in my skull. I immediately did two things. First, I tore down all the drywall in Owen's future nursery in order to install some insulation before re-drywalling. This, you see, is my way of celebrating. My wife buys onesies. I destroy walls and rebuild them. (There has got to be a metaphor in their somewhere.) Second, I ordered some books on parenting. I finished the first book in two days. I was too impatient for the second book (as it just arrived in the mail today) so I borrowed it from a friend. Three days later I was ready for another. This has been my routine for the last two weeks or so. Not the drywall thing; the book thing. The drywall was a one time deal.

This obviously was not the first time I had ever thought of being a dad or adopting and raising a son, but it was a good time to focus my attentions more specifically on the topics at hand. As I read on the couch and meditated while mudding, priming and painting drywall, I began to develop a sort of "vision" for what I was going to shoot for in raising Owen.

I want him to be a man who honors his mother and father, serves his church, wonders at the world around him, gives thanks, loves mercy, acts justly, walks humbly, and most of all, cherishes his Savior. I want him to believe and teach his children, my grandchildren, to believe. I want him to know the Scriptures, to do them and to instruct others. I want him to be a good husband, a loving father, an honest and diligent employee and a respectable employer. I want him to love the faith of his spiritual forefathers and love his spiritual lineage. I want him to look you in the eye, shake your hand firmly, open doors for your daughter and stand up when your wife enters the room. I want him to experience the freedom of liberty in Christ and the blessed slavery to righteousness. I want him to work hard in his vocation and earn an honest living. I want his future father-in-law to unreservedly rejoice when he asks for his future wife's hand. I want him to see and trust the hand of God in everything. I want him to exercise a faithful dominion over the world. I want him to love music, books, surfing, stories and good food. I want him to love The Bread and The Cup. I want him to be a man whose word is trustworthy. I want him to refuse to make excuses. I want him to ask for forgiveness and give it as freely as he has received it from God. I want him to be courageous and to know when he must fight. I want him to be thoroughly and gloriously masculine. I want him to love learning and pursue wisdom and virtue. I want him to know and rejoice in the Lordship of Christ over all things. I want him to find his identity and self-worth in the fact that he is made in the image of God. I want him to be a man who laughs long and hard.

Needless to say, it is a long list of expectations and I do know that it is all too easy to exasperate a young man with such an imposing list. I also happen to know that it is not unrealistic as I know many men who meet such a description. The big question is, of course, "How do we get there?" It all sounds well and good but where and how does the proverbial rubber meet the proverbial road? Thankfully, this list is much shorter. Unfortunately, it is simultaneously much more difficult.

I need to pray. I need to consistently love and discipline. I need to wrestle him. I need to make sure he gets dirty. I need to love my wife more. I need to teach my son to believe. I need to insist on dignity, honor and respect in all that he does. I need to educate him under the Lordship of Christ. I need to bring him to The Water and The Table. I need to love what I want my son to love and hate what I want him to hate. I need to tell stories. I need to laugh more. I need to repent. Often. I need to be the man I want my son to become.

Thank God for grace.

There is much more to be said about adoption but if you are still reading this post, you have stuck with me long enough for now.