This chapter, The Spirit Names the Child: Pentecostal Futurity in the Name of Jesus, shows how naming rituals are a source of Pentecostal power and influence, and remain strong for a long time. As power identity has argued that the Pentecostal politics of identity is not primarily construed along the lines of ancestry and familiar markers such as ethnicity, nationality, class, etc., but the object of desire, this chapter also shows that Pentecostals do not entirely dispense with ancestral or familial modes of identification. Instead, they supplant them in creative ways that show their power within social culture. To illustrate how the Pentecostal power is invested in the rhetoric of naming, I study an aspect of Pentecostal identity building: both giving oneself and one’s children names that include “Jesus” (or “Jesu” in Yoruba) to fully embed the social and spiritual atmosphere of the society with their values. The Pentecostal onomastic, I note, is thus a sonic and systematized politics of societal ordering and contestation of spaces. The antiphony of names as a process of “call and response” is the interaction of the many “transcendences” of Africa.

This chapter, The Spirit Names the Child: Pentecostal Futurity in the Name of Jesus, shows how naming rituals are a source of Pentecostal power and influence, and remain strong for a long time. As power identity has argued that the Pentecostal politics of identity is not primarily construed along the lines of ancestry and familiar markers such as ethnicity, nationality, class, etc., but the object of desire, this chapter also shows that Pentecostals do not entirely dispense with ancestral or familial modes of identification. Instead, they supplant them in creative ways that show their power within social culture. To illustrate how the Pentecostal power is invested in the rhetoric of naming, I study an aspect of Pentecostal identity building: both giving oneself and one’s children names that include “Jesus” (or “Jesu” in Yoruba) to fully embed the social and spiritual atmosphere of the society with their values. The Pentecostal onomastic, I note, is thus a sonic and systematized politics of societal ordering and contestation of spaces. The antiphony of names as a process of “call and response” is the interaction of the many “transcendences” of Africa.

This chapter deals with the ways dynastic consciousness was expressed in naming and numbering practices. It was very unusual for a medieval dynasty to have a name. Dynastic labels such as Plantagenet and Capetian are modern constructions. Ruling dynasties with hereditary surnames are exceptional, the main cases being in Ireland and Byzantium after the eleventh century. However, dynastic identity was expressed in the choice of personal names, some of which were so characteristic of a family that it is often assumed that anyone bearing them is likely to be a member. The term “Carolingian”, derived from the recurrent dynastic name “Charles” is analysed as an example. New names were introduced into dynasties through marriage and through free choice of names for younger sons. Examples of a conscious change of name usually have political significance. Numbering of monarchs began with the papacy and spread slowly and unevenly. The systems of numbering always imply a starting point and a claim to continuity. Examples analysed in detail here include the Holy Roman Emperors, the post-Conquest kings of England and the kings of Leon-Castile. The conclusion is that “a number for a monarch is far from a neutral tool of chronology”.