In today’s Gospel, we read about how friends and relatives argued over what Elizabeth and Zechariah should name their son. They insisted he be named after his father, Zechariah, perhaps indicating that he would follow in his father’s footsteps as a priest. However, Elizabeth and Zechariah remained firm that their son would be named John. In doing so, they obeyed the angel’s instructions, and by this act, God lifted Zechariah’s muteness, allowing him to praise God.

The name God chose for this newborn, John, means, “Yahweh has shown favor,” which foretells the role the infant would go on to play in salvation history as St. John the Baptist.

As this account shows, in the Bible, a lot of power and significance is attached to names, and they often express something about a person’s essence. When Abram, meaning “exalted father,” entered into a convent with God, God changed his name to Abraham meaning “father of multitudes.” Jesus changed Simon’s name to Peter when he selects him from the disciples to lead the Church on earth.

Names carry weight. Parents name their children to mark them as individuals. When someone forgets your name, you may feel like they’ve forgotten you. Simply put, calling someone their name instead of saying “Hey you!” is a small but meaningful way to acknowledge each other as individuals who matter.

As an undergraduate, one of the only classes where I knew all of my fellow students’ names was when the instructor required us to use name tags. It struck me at the time, and it is something I’ve implemented in my teaching. It can be difficult, even intimidating, for students to sit week after week and have discussions with students they barely know. Especially if they don’t know each other’s names.

On the first day, I bring construction paper and magic markers and ask my students to fold the paper into a “tent,” write their names on it, and put it in front of them every week. My request is often met with quizzical looks, even a few eye rolls. But students comply. And it turns out that trying to fold paper correctly to make a tent can be a good ice breaker.

The circle of desks quickly brightens as red, blue, purple, yellow, and pink pop up each with the individual’s name. Students go from anonymous faces to people with names and identities.

What color combination did they pick? Perhaps their favorite color is “yellow.”

Some students write their names in bold capital letters.

Others use “bubble” letters.

Some write the phonetic spelling of their name.

Some students write a nickname or a name they would rather be called.

Still others write their name in beautiful cursive.

Folded with a variety of levels of skill (as someone not particularly skilled at folding paper, I can say that my skills have improved over the years), these tents tangibly provide names to faces.

Initially, only a few students will use each other’s names. But it will quickly snowball, becoming the “norm” in classroom discussions.

“Building off of Mary’s point…”

“John, would you mind telling us what page you were looking at?”

“Huh, I didn’t think about it that way, Elizabeth. I thought it meant….”

“Actually, I’ve been speaking a lot; I’d love to hear what Zechariah has to say.”

I ask students to bring their “name tents” every week, inevitably some students forget theirs—sometimes leading them to ask if they “really” need to make one or if they “still” need to use their name tents. Often this occurs midway through the semester when most instructors have learned students’ names and have long given up on icebreakers and getting-to-know-you activities intended to help students learn each other’s names.

It might be tempting to give in—I know my students’ names by that point, and carrying around construction paper and markers can feel a bit silly. But keeping my overall goal in mind—to ensure my students feel known and like they matter to not only me, but also to their classmates—I continue to require them and bring the paper and markers every week. (For those concerned about wasting paper—students generally will catch on and remember their name tents a few weeks in, but this helps account for the occasional time someone forgets to bring theirs.)

This is a small way I can show my students I see them as people—as individuals with identities inside and outside the classroom—and encourage them to see each other in this way.

Don’t get me wrong—I don’t think these name tents will single-handedly solve anything. And they aren’t the only thing I do to encourage community and to show my students that I care.

But they are something.

While we likely didn’t receive our names as dramatically as St. John the Baptist did, we bear a powerful name God gave us. To use a phrase often used by Fr. Ryan, as Christians, we “bear the name and loving presence of Christ in the world.”

It can feel intimidating to think about living out this identity. But what if we start small?

If you see someone you casually know in the next few days, can you make a point to refer to them by name?

If you frequently see someone but don’t know their name, can you introduce yourself and ask what their name is?

If you are having a gathering where people might not know each other, can you make an extra effort to ensure everyone knows each other’s names or ask people to wear name tags or

If there’s someone whose name you probably should know by now, but still don’t, can you endure the momentary embarrassment and ask what it is (and then write it down so you don’t forget)?