Names matter. They carry identity, promise, memory, and hope. A name can tell you where someone belongs, who they are, and sometimes even what is expected of them. And sometimes names get changed – like Abram to Abraham, Sarai to Sarah, Jacob to Israel, Simon to Peter, Saul to Paul.
When a new Pope is elected, he will adopt a name which signals his intentions, honours predecessors and signifies a new spiritual role.
In the Bible, names are never accidental. They are often given at critical moments, when something decisive is about to happen. Our readings today place us in two such moments.
A Name Spoken into Fear: Immanuel
Isaiah 7 takes us into a world of political anxiety. King Ahaz of Judah is terrified. Enemy armies are closing in. The future feels uncertain, unstable and dangerous.
And into that fear, God speaks through Isaiah: “The young woman is with child and shall bear a son and shall name him Immanuel.” Immanuel means ‘God is with us.’
This was not originally meant as a prediction given centuries ahead of time. It was a word spoken by Isaiah into a contemporary and specific moment of fear. A sign that God had not abandoned Judah. A promise that the crisis that they were living through would not have the final word.
Before that child would be old enough to choose right from wrong, Isaiah says, the threat would pass. God would still be present. God would still be faithful.
Immanuel is a name of reassurance. It does not deny danger, but it refuses despair. ‘God is with us’ means we are not alone.
From Presence to Purpose: Jesus
Fast-forward several centuries to Matthew’s Gospel. Again, there is fear. This time it is Joseph who is afraid – afraid of shame, afraid of scandal, afraid of the collapse of everything he thought his life would be.
And an angel speaks into the fear. But this time the child is given another name: “You shall name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” Jesus means ‘the Lord saves.’
Where the name ‘Immanuel’ speaks of God’s presence, the name ‘Jesus’ speaks of God’s action.
So, this is no longer just reassurance in the face of a temporary crisis. This is rescue at the deepest level. Not only from invading armies, but from everything that binds and breaks human life – sin, fear, injustice and death itself.
Two Names, One Child
In our verses, Matthew does something beautiful and deliberate. He tells us the child is to be named Jesus – and then he quotes Isaiah: “They shall name him Immanuel, which means, ‘God is with us.’”
The child is not given two competing names. He is given two complementary truths. ‘Jesus’ tells us what God does. ‘Immanuel’ tells us how God does it. God saves us by being with us. Not from a distance. Not by proclamation or decree. But by entering our human story – sharing our vulnerability, our limitations, our suffering.
God does not save us by standing above us. God saves us by standing among us.
The Shape of God’s Salvation
This is crucial. Because many people think of salvation as escape – escape from pain, escape from responsibility, escape from the world. But the names Immanuel and Jesus together tell a different story.
God’s salvation does not bypass human life. It enters it. God does not shout of rescue whilst being sat in heaven. God whispers it from a manger. God does not abolish the human condition. God inhabits it.
In Jesus, God is not simply with us in sympathy. God is with us in solidarity. This is salvation shaped like presence. Redemption shaped like relationship.
A Word for Our World
These names still speak into our fears today. When the world feels unstable, when personal lives feel fragile, when faith feels stretched thin – Immanuel reminds us: God is still here, God has not gone anywhere.
And when guilt weighs heavily, when patterns seem unbreakable, when we long for real change – Jesus reminds us: God does not leave us as we are.
God is with us, and God is for us, and God is at work among us.
Living Between the Names
To live as Christians is to live between these two names. To trust that God is present even when we cannot see the outcome. To trust that God is saving even when the process is slow.
Immanuel gives us courage to stay. Jesus gives us hope that things can change. Together, they tell us this: You are never abandoned. You are never beyond redemption. And the God who comes close is the God who saves.
So, when we look at the child in the manger, we shouldn’t see a sentimental symbol, but a declaration written in flesh. Immanuel: God is with us. Jesus: God saves.
This is the heart of the Christian faith – not a distant deity, but a God who comes near and, in coming near, makes each one of us whole. Makes each one of us the person that we were created to be.
A Blessing for the Child with Two Names
Blessed are you
in the moment when fear
comes close,
when the future feels fragile
and the path unclear.Blessed are you
when the dream arrives
not to explain everything
but to say:
Do not be afraid.May you trust
the God who speaks
into uncertainty,
the God who works
within what you cannot control.May you welcome the Child
who comes without demand,
whose life begins
in vulnerability,
whose name is spoken
before his face is seen.May you know him as Jesus
the one who saves,
who gathers what is broken,
who frees what is bound,
who carries the long work of healing
in his very breath.May you also know him as Immanuel
God-with-us,
present in the waiting,
near in the confusion,
faithful in the dark
before understanding dawns.May you learn to live
between these two names:
trusting the God who is with you
and the God who is at work within you.And when the way ahead
still feels uncertain,
may the Child
born of promise
teach you this grace:that salvation often comes
not in certainty,
but in presence,
and that God’s deepest gift
is not distance overcome
but nearness given. Amen.
‘What’s in a name’ was delivered by Ian Banks at St John with St Mark’s Bury on Advent 4, 21st December 2025. It was based on Isaiah 7:10-16 and Matthew 1:18-end.