Immanuel

“Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.”

Isaiah 7:14 (ESV)

Immanuel.

Eight letters aligned to proclaim the miraculous. It’s a word that underlines an unfathomable truth. It calls our attention to the wondrous affections of the Divine towards His creation. It highlights the dear devotion within Yahweh’s heart for those molded in His likeness. It’s a word that speaks to the holy mystery of agape love.

It serves as a bridge between visions recorded on parchment by the scribes of sixteen prophets and the radiant beams of Bethlehem's eastern star shining above a lowly manger. The construction of this bridge spanned the course of 400 years. Those who anticipated crossing over grew weary. The sound of liberation echoing through the memorization of ancient scrolls grew faint as the years passed by. The Architect remained silent. His people were unsure whether they should continue to place their trust in seemingly outdated blueprints. 

Where were the signs? 

Where were the revelations? 

Silence reverberated across generations. Grandfathers, fathers, and sons made pilgrimages to the site of their faith, hoping they would be the last in their family to wander. They entered their Temples and watched their priests with anticipation. They longed to peek behind the linen veil—the dwelling place of the Architect. Surely, there would be a response to the rise of Pharisees and Sadducees. Surely, there would be a response to the oppressive rule of the Roman Empire. Surely, Malachi’s last prophetic message would be fulfilled. 

Surely.

“Surely,” would soon morph into, “Maybe.” 

Many “Maybe’s,” would grow to, “Maybe not.”

Immanuel became merely a word introduced through the prophet Isaiah rather than an everlasting hope. Chewing on the significance of its meaning seemed to no longer satisfy spiritual hunger. Drinking from the fountain of its implied promise seemed to no longer satisfy spiritual thirst. The influence and doctrine of the religious elite seemed to yield more harvest.

They had signs. 

They had revelations. 

The religious elite addressed the political and social climate, making sense of the current reality. They emphasized strict adherence to Jewish law and tradition, promoting a type of holiness that they believed necessary to hear the Architect finally speak. Generations fought for satisfaction through their own efforts and understanding—believing that Yahweh would be pleased and perhaps even expedite the arrival of their deliverance. 

While Yahweh loves His people, His sovereignty is not predicated upon the efforts of His people. He allowed for the intertestamental period of 400 years—awaiting a predetermined moment. While His people yearned for Him, He continued building the bridge. When the work was complete, He sent His angel, Gabriel, to the homes of a betrothed couple. 

“Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. And her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly. But as he considered these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.’ All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet: ‘Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel, (which means, God with us).’” (Matthew 1:18-23)

The world heard the cries of an infant child. Heaven heard the preparation of a Savior. All of the Heavenly hosts stood in awe and wonder with their eyes fixated upon the infant lying in the hay. The Lord’s throne had descended to Earth. It has made its home among creation. 

This Child would grow in wisdom and stature despite being the very Source of all wisdom and the Giver of all positions. This Child would need food despite being the very Creator of all animals and vegetation. The Child would need water despite having the ability to command the waves. This Child would make Himself available to His family—people He formed with His own hands in utter seclusion. This Child would interact with the world despite being the only One whose voice calls the earth, sun, and moon to obedience. This Child would grow into a Man despite being present before the creation of Adam. This Man would practice His earthly father's trade of carpentry until it was time for Him to step into His primary assignment. 

The Architect designed the arrival of Jesus—Immanuel—as a response to the desperation of His people and as atonement for their sins. Jesus’ name would revive a people living in silence for over 400 years while simultaneously preaching revival to generations to come. This name announces unparalleled love. This name announces salvation. This name announces healing. This name announces freedom. This name goes forth in power. This name demands worship and adoration. Most importantly, this name demonstrates the extent to which God is willing to go for the sake of reconciliation with His creation and intimacy with His chosen.

His name is the product of two Hebrew words: “Immanu,” meaning, “With us,” and, “El,” meaning, “God.” Their marriage tears the linen veil in two, revealing a mystery once concealed.

Yahweh has always been present. He delivered His chosen people from Egypt, guiding them in a pillar of cloud and fire. He appeared to them through thunder above Mount Sinai. He instructed the assembly of the Tabernacle and later the building of the Temple. He chose to rest upon the Ark of the Covenant. But never before has He taken the form of a man to enter into the humanity He created. Jesus lived among His people. Through Jesus, the Father became known. He submitted Himself to the challenges of a post-sin world. He deliberately chose not to count equality with the Father as a thing to be grasped.

As Lord over emotions, He had emotions. As Lord over temptations, He was tempted. As Lord over death, He died. 

God decided to rescue the world Himself.

There were no more requests for an Ark suitable for two of every kind of animal. There were no more requests to march before a pharaoh or ruler. There were no more requests to preach to a nation. Instead, the Lord of the Universe came down Himself. In doing so, He accomplished His plan—breaking the bondage of sin, defeating the power of death and grave, and rising to life to prepare for His second coming as the ultimate authority. 

However, His name doesn’t only speak to a finished work. 

It also speaks to a present promise. 

Immanuel is not just a word, name, or title. It’s a pledge—a never-ending vow. Whenever the name of Jesus is uttered, so is the enduring commitment of the Father. 

Once Jesus returned to the right hand of the Father, He dispatched the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is the seal of this commitment—also carrying the title of Immanuel. He is God in us, forever eliminating silent wandering. 

Gone is the longing to peek beyond the linen veil. Gone is the anticipation for a word from the priests. Gone is uncertainty. 

The Spirit of God shows us signs of His nearness and presence.

The Spirit of God provides revelation into the mind and heart of God.

Once again we can confidently exclaim, “Surely!” We can stand firm in faith. Grandfathers, fathers, and sons can pass on joy to future generations. Instead of waiting in dire anticipation of deliverance, we wait in great anticipation of the complete manifestation of this promise—reuniting with the Lord in glory. 

Even death cannot annul the proclamation of the miraculous given to us in just eight letters.

Immanuel.

So we celebrate the birth of Jesus whose name brings assurance of this truth:

God is with us.