Names and religion—an introduction Per VIKSTRAND Names and religion are intimately bound together on several levels and in several ways. As regards personal names, these often reflect the religious conviction of the name givers, due to the fact that anthroponyms tends to be specific to religion. It would not be entirely wrong to assume that in the Christian world most personal names depend on the Bible or Christian traditions in the form of saints or missionaries for their existence. In the Indo-European languages, personal names with religious associations are a common trait, and such names make up an important part of the anthroponomasticon in many languages. A large amount of place names emanates from tales and myths in which supernatural beings of different kinds act or are present in the landscape. This seems to be a global phenomenon. But place names, made obscure by the passing of time and language change, can also act as agents for stories and myths woven around a reinterpreta- tion—if you like a “folk-etymology”—of the name in question. Actu- ally, etymological speculations—whether correct or incorrect—seem to be an important driving force behind the creation of myths. Just as an example can be mentioned the story of Jacob’s dream about a stair- case between the earth and heaven in the Book of Genesis. This story is probably inspired by the name of the place where Jacob had this dream, Bethel, commonly interpreted as ‘the dwelling of god’. The story seems to aim at explaining that interpretation of the name, as Jacob is said to have given it to the place after his dream (its earlier name being Lus). Now, it is most unlikely that Jacob had the means to change the local name use and gain acceptance for a new name of the town—few individuals have such might. On the other hand, this way of explaining names, as given on account of an occurrence, is very common in popular name-interpretations. Most probably the story is woven around the name of Bethel in order to give it an accept- able interpretation and perhaps also to connect this place with the remembrance and prestige of the patriarch. Onoma 48 (2013), 7-10. doi: 10.2143/ONO.48.0.3223611. © Onoma. All rights reserved. 8 PER VIKSTRAND From such names as Bethel there is only a short step to the myth- ological names—that is names of persons, beings, and places in myths. The etymologies of mythological names are often invoked to enlighten characters or deeds in the stories of which they form a part. It is my belief that an onomastic approach to such names—based on the under- standing that they actually act as and must be treated as names—have much to contribute to the understanding of myths. In a European con- text, the names of saints are vital to the formation of the anthropono- masticon in most languages. But as place names like the English St. Ives, the Italian San Lorenzo al Mare, and the Romainian Sân- benedic show, they are also important for the construction of the top- onymic landscape. The onomastic significance of saint is actually a central theme for this volume. The subject of names and religion has, as far as I know, never been approached in an international forum. Although much work has been done on a regional basis, very little knowledge on the subject trickles over the barriers of languages, and we are in want of global and inter-language perspectives. This number of Onoma is a first, humble attempt at bridging over this omission of knowledge. Already from browsing the list of content, the domination of Christian names is obvious and might evoke criticism. However, in my invitation to this volume, I especially encouraged studies that dealt with indigenous religions and languages outside the Christian and Islamic cultural spheres. Studies concerned with ancient European cultures such as the Greek, Roman, Celtic, or Old Norse were also especially asked for. Further, I tried to distribute the invitation outside the traditional sphere of name-scholars to obtain contributions from historians of religion and anthropologists, from whom I believe we have much to learn. I am glad to say that I to some extent got a positive response, although not all contacts resulted in published articles. A couple did, however. Olof Sundqvist, a historian of religion, shows how different ways of etymologising the name of the Norse god Freyr can support different understandings of his character. Claudia Boshouwers gives in her con- tribution an important oversight of the pre-Christian sacral toponymy of the Netherlands, until now unattainable to non-Dutch readers. It is no overstatement, however, to claim that this volume is ­dominated by Christian names, predominantly names of saints, used both as personal names and place names. This is partly due to the fact that the majority of authors come from Christian countries, but also that NAMES AND RELIGION—AN INTRODUCTION 9 they are exactly name researchers, primarily dealing with the names of their own language or country. An interesting aspect of this domi- nation is that it highlights the immense importance of especially the names of saints for the anthroponymy of Europe (and by Europeans colonised countries). This was however never a pre-destined or neces- sary consequence of the Christianisation, which can be seen from dif- ferences in name-practises in different historical contexts. In Scandi- navia, Christian names came to dominate rather soon after the conversion, while a few hundred years earlier the Visigoths and Lan- gobards of continental Europe seem to have kept their Germanic name tradition more or less intact. The papers dealing with Christian names are of different kinds, but have in common a profound empirical basis, often of a rather impressive size. One could say they span from broad oversights to more specialised studies, but that might be to oversimplify things a bit, as even the more “narrow” studies can include vast materials and far-reaching conclusions. As a broad oversight one must nevertheless characterise the article by Volker Kohlheim, which offers an extensive historical exposé of name-giving with Christian motifs in the German- speaking area, actually taking its starting point in pre-Christian times and thus connecting chronologically to the studies of Boshouwers and Sundqvist. A broad approach also characterises Oliviu and Nicolae Felecan’s investigation of Romanian place names (oikonyms) derived from names of saints (hagionyms). Such names follow, as already mentioned, a well known European pattern, with the transition from saint to settlement most often mediated by the name of a church. Carol Jean Léonard expands the study of such names to the distant prairie provinces of Canada, and discusses the reasons for their decline during the 20th cen- tury. For such names, like Lac Saint Cyr or St. Paul, he uses the term hagiotoponymie ( Eng. hagiotoponymy), which might be useful. Andrea Bölcskei deals in his study not primarily with hagiotopo- nyms but with place names reflecting ecclestiastical possession, such as Apátfalva ‘the village of the abbot’ or Pyspukmal ‘the bishop’s southern hill-slope’ (a vine-yard). In a subtle way he discloses the toponymical fingerprints of the establishment of Christianity and the Church organisation in the medieval kingdom of Hungary. Dealing with the same time and space, although with focus on personal names, is Mariann Slíz. Her investigation of the relation between cults of 10 PER VIKSTRAND saints and name-giving practices in (mostly royal) dynasties, has, however, a wider significance, as her many examples from other parts of Europe show. More specialised is Anikó Szilágyi-Kósa’s compari- son of family names referring to Christian faith and church life in German and Hungarian, revealing the basic importance of piety to the formation of family names in both languages. At the far other end of this spectrum is the contribution of Selene Jiménez-Segura and Rogelio­ Lachino-Lachino, which discloses a decline in influence from the Catholic calendar on first name-giving in 20th century Mexico (more precisely in the municipality of Tlalnepantla de Baz). Finally, a contemporary and little different approach is found Valeriia Neklesova’s discussion of the modern use of the Biblical names Apocalypse and Armageddon in references to disasters of dif- ferent kinds, not at least in newspaper language. Her examples are from modern Ukrainian, but I believe many of us can recognise these tendencies from our own languages. I do hope that the articles in this volume can demonstrate the great potential of the research-field names and religion. In a historical perspective it can help us not only to understand the development and conformation of our onomasticons, but also enlighten us as to different historical processes, such as for instance the Christianisation of Europe. Similarly, in a more contemporary perspective, it can enhance our understanding of the developments in name-usage, as well as throw light upon changing attitudes in our own time. I firmly believe that names and religion could be an exciting subject for a section at a future ICOS congress..