Chris Dryden R.I.P – 1982-2010 – Stop Taking The Chris

What’s in a name?  Why is it so important?  What’s the big deal?

My first recollection of anything in terms of family and memories is back to when I was about five years old.  I don’t remember anything before then.  From that time until this whenever I was asked what my name was it would always be Chris.  When I told whoever asked there were no questions asked afterwards and they were comfortable calling me Chris.  Funnily enough, though, of my family members I think it’s only David and maybe my Dad, who might call me Chris, and even that was rare.  More often than not at home I would be ‘son’ to my parents or ‘Christopher’.  (Apparently my older sister, Ruth, wasn’t able to manage so many syllables when we were young so she cut to the chase and called me Quifer – which should be a stage name or something – always was inspired was my sister.)

Yet for the rest of the world – including the church – it was just a case of calling me Chris.  Thus unsurprisingly for my school friends, university associates, work colleagues and church brethren I’m ‘Chris’ (or ‘Brother Chris’ to the brethren … most of the brethren – to some I’m just ‘Brother Dryden’ or worse still ‘Deacon/Sister Dryden’s Son’ for lack of remembering my name).  I’ve not had a problem with it – after all it’s a quick way of addressing me without dealing with all those syllables attached to the name.

Something began to change in 2008.  Nothing much, just a reflection on the origins and meaning of my name both from the etymological perspective (nice that, eh?) and the family story.  I then thought about that in the light of what I felt my call in Christ was all about.  I remember thinking at the time that something was not quite right with accepting being called ‘Chris’.  Nothing forceful or that lead to immediate change, just a nagging thought.  Last year from April onwards I felt as though I was having a complete identity overhaul – which triggered things like the change of job, change of house and change of city.  Part of that overhaul brought those nagging thoughts to the forefront.

What is in the name ‘Christopher’?  Why is that so important that it must be uttered in full?  What’s wrong with leaving it like Chris?

Again, timid, shy and reluctant to stir up anything too traumatic I let it fester without change.  I knew there was something wrong.  Not something wrong in general – I don’t have a problem with others called Christopher being referred to as Chris.  It was something wrong with that for me.

It all culminated this year around July and it lead to the death of Chris Dryden.  Although people still call me Chris – that is what they’re used to – and even me wife refers to me by that name, to me for so many reasons it’s in reference to a dead man.  A man of the past.  As I’ll establish further in an upcoming post, calling me Chris is cutting me short which is rather significant.

What this post is to say – once and for all and officially – is that my name is Christopher Dryden.  I’m not Chris.  I’d prefer it if you didn’t call me ‘Chris’.  Since I started work in Northampton the change has been confirmed and people here know my preferred referral.  I insert it as a light-hearted way of introduction by commenting that as yet I haven’t sued anyone for calling me Chris.  Only because I cannot afford a good lawyer to take it on!  (That’s why it’s light-hearted, you see.  No on sues people for using wrong names … in England … yet.)

What’s helped that as well is having my fellow tutor also being called ‘Chris’ and preferring that.  So as to avoid confusion as well as establishing the new day in my life they call him Chris and call me Christopher.  You don’t need another Chris to get that sorted, you know now and forevermore that my name is Christopher and not Chris.  So I’d appreciate it if you could stop taking the Chris.  More on that later.

For His Name’s Sake

Shalom

dmcd