My middle name is Jacobus. (Yah-koh-buhs). I think my parents gave me this name as a way to connect me with the biblical, Jacob, who was Isaac’s second born, after Esau. I have not given my middle name much thought, but I think now is about as good as any other time to claim the significance of my middle name. My middle name, in a way, can serve as a metaphor as I transfer meaning upon it to express my thoughts on this Saturday, January 11, 2020.
Jakobus is hidden behind my public persona name Johan and my surname Tredoux, which links me officially with my ancestry. As it were, despite the metaphorical role I confer upon my middle name, Jakobus has to wrestle to even get mentioned or noticed, just like the Genesis story of Jacob wrestling at the Jabbok River. Even though Jacob did not have a last name, the voices of father Isaac and grandfather Abraham significantly shaped who Jacob was. The Jabbok River, as it were, became a watershed mark for Jacob as he walked away from this place of wrestling having differentiated his own unique identity, including a new name (Israel) amidst a family system going back for centuries.
The “wrestling” Jacob represents the yearning in all of us to live out and become the person we were designed to be. It is that yearning to truly be ourselves and for the real person to emerge behind the public “persona” of our first name. We all have an unconscious Jacob in us, desiring to come in touch with our own identity and find our voice amidst the many voices expressed in religious, cultural and family systems.
In themselves, systems are needed and useful and without them, society could not function. Our desire for systems speaks to our concern for maintenance and familiarity, but it comes with a price. In our desire to conserve familiar systems, we human beings tend to squash creative thought and new energizing connections. We create echo chambers and act on the impulse to quiet the dissenting voices and restrict the free movement of thought. As I write this, the image of a bunch of crabs in a bucket comes to mind. As history has shown us, the moment one crab tries to break free from the bucket, the majority will always try to pull him down. In our desire to be “part of” something, to be close, we can become so captured by our systems that we lose the sense of our unique individuality. Of course, if we try to assert our identity, we risk losing the closeness our systems provide.
There is no question that there is an interdependence between the systems and the individual, but an overemphasis on the systems (be they religious, political, or family) can bring loneliness and isolation even as we are close to each other. Wouldn’t it be great if instead, we can differentiate our uniqueness from the systems to which we belong and wrestle for the freedom to be ourselves with each other even as we exist within these systems?
Like you perhaps, I have had my share of reading popular psychology books on “how to be close.” They have been helpful, but they have not been able to show me how I can be myself with you. What I am sharing with you is that there is a difference between closeness and intimacy. “Closeness” in our systems tends to lean towards conservation and security, whereas “intimacy” allows people to take risks and explore differences of opinion to birth something new. Intimacy develops when two people open themselves to each other, respect the integrity of each other, share themselves with each other, without demanding mindless capitulation from each other. I think it is at this juncture, at this interactive dynamic relational place, that real energy is released to bring about growth and change within oneself, and within our systems!
This does not mean that we throw “closeness” out the window. It is to bring the awareness that we can’t put all our eggs in the “closeness” basket. You may find yourself squeezed in family or religious systems. You may have allowed these systems to rob you of your unique individuality to such an extent that others think for you and treat you like just another face in the crowd. I hope that you will not drink the Kool-Aid, and not fear losing closeness at the expense of losing intimacy, and more importantly the personal growth you could enjoy. As I bring my thoughts to a close, I am mindful that the Holy Spirit always produces clear thinking, rational judgment, sharp self-awareness, the ability to differentiate, and the power to make difficult choices. May you be given this power.
Behind me lies the history of religious systems as expressed in my last name Tredoux that has its origins in the religious systems found in Switzerland in the last decade of the 19th century. It postures predetermined outcomes in my story. Closer to home is my public persona expressed in my first name Johan, shaped by the systems of an apartheid-era South Africa and the religious traditions of John Wesley. In front of me is my middle name, Jakobus, the wrestler for intimacy. The one who wants to be “me” with “you.” May the wrestler in all of us come to the surface, as we reject sameness and in contrast live out our true identity, hopefully embedded in healthy systems. Happy New year!
Photo by Kyle Glenn on Unsplash