When I saw him day to day, I don’t ever remember him calling me “Roger.” It was always the shortened nickname, the same name he used when referring to his brother, his only sibling whom I’m named after, who was killed in World War 2. Dad always called me “Rog”.
But when he would call me on the phone, I think he felt he needed an extra syllable to get my attention. It was a sweet sound, Dad’s greeting, for it always began somewhat melodically.
“Hello,” I would answer.
“Ro-og” He would greet me, elongating the nickname, preserving the familiarity, saying hello.
I wonder if I ever noticed then, but I certainly thought of it after he was gone.
To this day, no one in the world says my name like that. I would love to hear that sound again. Someday I will.
The most moving scene in all of Scripture
Mary stands weeping outside the tomb. Her pain is deep; her hope is gone. On top of all that has happened, now it appears that someone has stolen the body of her Lord.
She peers into the grave, and there are two strange figures sitting where Jesus’s body had lain.
They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” John 20:13 (ESV)
And then she turns around…and Jesus stands before her…but she is clueless. She thinks He is just the gardener, that this meddling man may be responsible for relocating the body. She has no category in her mind for resurrection.
“Tell me where you have lain him, and I will take him away.” And then, apparently, she turns away from him, perhaps not expecting an answer.
Or if you prefer, “Ro-og”. That’s how I imagine it, anyway, as if one day I picked up the phone and Dad was on the line…again. “Ro-og”. Can you also imagine…the one you loved so much, saying your name again?
And she knows. Nobody said her name like that. Nobody said her name like Jesus.
And so she turned around, “Rabboni!”
And one day, so shall He say your name. And one day, so shall those you love who have died in Him…say your name. Such is the reality of resurrection.