I have fallen in love with the Mormons’ names,
Ernesto Saenz and Young Adcock . . .
Stephen Vincent Benet should have gone with the youth to do baptism for the dead.
He didn’t have that chance, not being Mormon in this life, but I did, last night. I was a witness, and while I was I got to thinking about the names.
Benet’s poem American Names, which I linked above, is about the particularity of place. You don’t fall in love with locale. You fall in love with particular locales.
Likewise, the particular names of baptism for the dead are a testament that God does not love mankind. No, he does not love mankind. He loves each individual man and woman, each in their own little history and identity. Each with their particular name. Christ did not die to save us. He died to save me and you.