Suppose that one day you were reading a story in which an elderly woman is talking to her pregnant granddaughter: “Now listen, my dear,” the old woman says, “I would ask that you name this child after your grandfather and so give him the name, ‘Nelson.’”
Suppose the young woman agrees. “Okay, Grandma, his name will be Nelson.,”
But then you read, “This fulfilled a prediction once made by the pregnant woman’s father that her firstborn would be named, ‘Wallace.’”
Well, which name should be given to the baby? Nelson or Wallace?
We have this same kind of puzzle in Matthew’s Gospel about the naming of Jesus. In Matthew, chapter one, our Gospel reading tonight, the angel says to name the baby, “Jesus” and just a few verses later, Matthew turns around and assumes we won’t be confused when he says, That’s right, the prophet had said a long time ago that this baby would be given the name, ‘Emmanuel.’”
So tonight, we celebrate the birth of Jesus. No wait, his name is Emmanuel. But he also goes by Jesus. Can you just pick a name so we know what to call this baby, Matthew?
Well, I guess it’s not as simple as that. They are both important names that point us to why we are celebrating this baby’s birth tonight. I mean, think about it. You could be at home watching old Christmas movies, but you chose to come to a baby shower instead.
One of the first things we want to know when we meet a parent of a newborn is the name they gave their child. Names tell us a lot about who the child is.
I was almost named Adam because my great-grandfather was named Adam. Instead, my parents went with Robert probably because it was one of the more popular boy names back in 1863. Robert means, “bright fame.” Yeah, I’m still waiting for that call from Hollywood.
The origin of our names can help lead us to live out our calling. At the elementary school where our kids attended, they had a teacher whose name was Mrs. Crayon. And the name of the principal was Mrs. Schooly. You just can’t make this up. And I’m sure we could be here all night sharing names of people who match their professions.
What makes the naming of Jesus unique though is that there isn’t one name that can adequately convey all of who he is. So let’s spend some time tonight exploring these names of Jesus and Emmanuel.
Both of these names convey the good news of Christmas. Jesus means “One who saves, rescues, and delivers.” Santa delivers presents. Jesus delivers salvation.
So Christmas is about God coming into the world through Jesus to save us, to rescue us, to deliver us. Jesus saves us from our sins. Jesus rescues us from our brokenness and pain. Jesus delivers us from bondage.
The name, Jesus is so commonly used that sometimes we forget the origin of the name, even around Christmas. Giving him the name, Jesus gives us a hint even as we gather around the manger tonight, that this baby will launch the long awaited healing, wholeness, and salvation for the world. The wait is over. The long season of Advent has come and gone. The blue altar cloths have been replaced tonight with colors of gold and white. It’s time to celebrate! The savior is born and Jesus is his name.
Jesus’ name conveys that through him our sins are forgiven. Whatever regrets that linger from our past. Whatever pain we may have caused others. Whatever missed opportunities that still may haunt us. Whatever unnecessary baggage that is weighing us down. Jesus is more than able to save us.
Several years ago, I helped to lead a youth retreat and during that retreat, youth were invited to spend some time in a candle-lit sanctuary one evening and think about their faith. These teenagers had just heard several youth and adults share what a difference Jesus has made in their lives. This was now their time to find a place in that large holy space and absorb what they had heard and experienced from those testimonies.
I was quietly sitting in one of the first pews in case a youth wanted to come and talk to me. As I sat there, I noticed one of the youth who had come up to the cushioned kneeling rail which had several lit candles flickering on the altar in front of her. And for the next several minutes, she quietly knelt there staring at one of those candles. She didn’t take her eyes off that one candle.
I’m not totally sure what that lighted candle in which she was giving her total focus meant to her personally, but it sure seemed like she was being drawn closer to the heart of God.
I think of the candles we will be holding tonight and how those candles offer the light of Jesus’ saving love for the world. Jesus saves.
And Jesus rescues us from our pain and brokenness. Jesus has come to do for us what we are not able to do for ourselves. Jesus rescues.
And Jesus delivers us from our bondage. There’s a freedom when we receive Jesus in our lives. Jesus delivers us from all that would keep us from being who God has called us to be. Like the wonderful verse from the Advent hymn, “Come, Thou long expected Jesus, born to set thy people free; from our fears and sins release us, let us find our rest in Thee.”
Jesus saves us. Jesus rescues us. Jesus delivers us. As the one hymn puts it, “His name is wonderful, Jesus my Lord.”
This reminds me of the story of when a pastor was giving the children’s message during church on Sunday. For this part of the service, he would gather all the children around him and give a brief lesson before dismissing them for children’s church.
On this particular Sunday, he was using squirrels for an object lesson in making a spiritual point. He started out by saying, “I’m going to describe something, and I want you to raise your hand when you know what it is.”
The children nodded eagerly. “This thing lives in trees (pause) and eats nuts (pause)…”No hands went up. The pastor continued with more hints. “And it is gray (pause) and has a long bushy tail (pause)…”
The children were looking at each other, but still no hands raised. “And it jumps from branch to branch (pause) and chatters and flips its tail when it’s excited (pause)…” Finally one little boy tentatively raised his hand.
The pastor breathed a sigh of relief and called on him. “Well…,” said the boy, “I know the answer must be Jesus…but is sure sounds like a squirrel!”
Matthew tells us that the name of this baby is Jesus, but he also is given the name, Emmanuel, a Hebrew word that means, “God is with us.”
There probably isn’t a better name to convey what is at the heart of the Christmas story. Christmas is about God with us in the form of a baby. In theological terms, we refer to this as the incarnation. God becoming flesh.
A church member shared me with just a few days ago that her small group decided to make little Christmas tree decorations that light up and to give anyone who might be feeling lonely this holiday season.
She told me that she gave her Christmas tree decoration to a woman who had Alzheimer’s. When she gave her that tree, a big smile came to the woman’s face. She then turned the lights on, and this woman started to cry and asked her, “Is this for me?” She said that it was a gift for her.
And this woman replied, “I’m all alone. You remembered me. Thank you for being so kind.” In that moment, this woman experienced the good news of Christmas. We are not alone. God is with us.
This is such a profound but wonderful mystery of our faith, the incarnation. Emmanuel. God with us. God with us in all our flesh and blood realities and messiness. God with us in diapers. God with us as close as Mary would have held Jesus to her chest. God with us in learning how to eat. God with us in learning how to drink from a cup without spilling milk all down his chin.
To borrow a phrase from the Christian mystic saint, Teresa of Avila, “we look for Christ among the pots and pans.” Jesus among the barn animals and those quirky magi astrologers and then all the rest of the Gospel’s curious cast of characters. God with us.
God with the prostitutes and the lepers and the outcasts in whose company Jesus would delight again and again. God at the dinner table laughing at a story his dad is telling about his day.
God with the little children who come to him for a blessing. God lifting the cup of wine while gathered with the disciples in an Upper Room. God with us in all our ordinary times and days. God with us in what we have been calling “Thin Place Moments,” those holy moments when God is made present to us in surprising and beautiful ways.
Emmanuel is God with us in the cancer clinic and at the local nursing home where bodies slump in wheelchairs pushed up against the hallway walls. Emmanuel is God with us in the hospice room and when life’s final breath slips past a loved one’s lips.
Emmanuel is God with us when you pack the Christmas decorations away and with an aching heart, realize afresh that your one son never did call over the holidays. Emmanuel is God with us when your dear wife or mother stares at you with an Alzheimer’s glaze and absently asks, “What was your name again?”
Emmanuel, God with us when you get another news alert on your phone of another mass shooting and you just want to scream because nothing seems to ever change. Emmanuel, God with us when you are feeling so angry toward God that you don’t feel like praying or doing this whole church thing anymore.
But even when you refuse to look at God, he never looks away from you, always reaching out to you, always wanting to be in a relationship with you, always present whether you are by still waters or walking through the valley of the shadow of death.
God will never leave or forsake you. He can’t. And that’s the wonderful thing about Christmas.
It’s all in the name.
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