You can choose a patron saint whose name you’ll take at baptism or chrismation. It’s that simple.
This isn’t about erasing who you are. Think of it more like gaining a spiritual family connection. When you’re baptized or received into the Orthodox Church, you’re joining the communion of saints, not just as an abstract idea, but as a real relationship with real people who’ve gone before us. Your patron saint becomes your intercessor, your example, someone whose prayers you can ask for the rest of your life.
Do I have to take a new name?
Most people do. It’s the normal Orthodox practice going back centuries. But there’s some pastoral flexibility here. If your name is already a saint’s name (even if you didn’t know it), you can usually keep it. If it’s a derivative or nickname of a saint’s name, your priest might bless you keeping it. Someone named Katie could discover she’s already got St. Katherine. A guy named Alex has St. Alexander.
But if you’re named Hunter or Madison or Brittany? You’ll want to pick a saint.
How do you choose?
Talk to your priest first. He’ll guide you through this. But here are the common approaches people take.
Some folks pick a saint whose life story moves them. Read a few lives of the saints and see who resonates. St. Mary of Egypt’s radical conversion. St. John Chrysostom’s preaching. St. Xenia of St. Petersburg’s holy foolishness. One of our parishioners chose St. Moses the Black because his story of transformation from a violent past to a life of prayer spoke directly to where he’d been.
Others go by meaning. If your name means “light,” you might choose St. Photini (which means light). If it means “noble,” there are saints associated with nobility of character.
Some people pick a saint whose name sounds similar to theirs. Brandon might become Brendan (St. Brendan the Navigator). Melissa might choose Melania (St. Melania the Younger).
And some choose a saint from the Antiochian tradition specifically. We’ve got a rich heritage here. St. Ignatius of Antioch, who was martyred in Rome. St. John Chrysostom, who preached in Antioch before becoming Patriarch of Constantinople. St. Thekla, who’s venerated throughout our tradition. Connecting to an Antiochian saint can deepen your sense of belonging to this particular part of the Orthodox family.
Don’t overthink it, though. You’re not locked into becoming exactly like your patron saint. You’re not going to fail at being Orthodox if you choose St. Nicholas but don’t become a bishop who punches heretics. The point is having someone in heaven who knows you by name, who prays for you, whose feast day becomes your name day.
What about legal names?
Your legal name doesn’t change unless you want it to. Most people keep their birth name for work, family, the DMV, all of that. Your Orthodox name is used liturgically. The priest will use it when he gives you communion, when he commemorates you in prayers, when he writes your name in the parish register. Some people start going by their Orthodox name in church contexts while keeping their birth name everywhere else. Some eventually prefer their Orthodox name and use it more widely. It’s up to you.
When does this happen?
If you’re being baptized, you’ll receive your saint’s name at baptism. If you’re being received by chrismation (because you were already baptized in a Trinitarian church), you’ll take your saint’s name then. Either way, it becomes your Christian name, the name you carry as a member of the Body of Christ.
Your priest will want to know your choice ahead of time so it can be recorded properly. Don’t wait until the week before. Start thinking about it early in your catechism. Read some saints’ lives. The Orthodox Study Bible has brief entries. Ancient Faith has podcasts about various saints. Your priest probably has a few books he can lend you.
And here’s something practical for Southeast Texas: your Orthodox name day (your patron saint’s feast) might become more important to you than your birthday. In Orthodox cultures, people celebrate their name day with more fanfare than their birth date. You might not go that far, but don’t be surprised if church friends start texting you “Happy feast day!” once a year. It’s one more way of remembering you’re not just an individual Christian, but part of a family that stretches back two thousand years and forward into eternity.
