The first thing about anyone is his name. A human person is born into the world, and almost immediately a word is chosen to denote him. Not a number, not a sign, not a shape - but a word. And that word becomes everyone’s way of saying who he is. For all of his lifetime that word is used to indicate him. By means of it, he says, "This is I." By means of it, others say, "That is he." In a very real sense the word equals the person, stands for him as his equivalent. This is so very true that I can say, "I am Leonard Mann." Who am I? What am I? This I am: Leonard Mann.

The word assigned to denote an individual person is always the only total representation of him. When you say that a certain fellow is six feet tall - or three feet wide - you have made a representation in regard to his size. But it is only by using the denoting word that you represent him. It is only by using the denoting word that he totally represents himself. If he is obligating himself to pay off a $40,000 mortgage on his house, at the bottom of a long finely printed sheet of paper he writes the denoting word, his name, and only that word will do. If he is getting married, he says, "I the denoting word, take thee, the denoting word, to be my wedded wife." If he is being awarded a college degree - or is being sentenced to hang - the decree is issued to the denoting word. And the word means the person.

It is utterly fascinating that in the Gospel According to John it is written: "In the beginning was the WORD, and the WORD was with God, and the WORD was God ... and the WORD became flesh and dwelt among us" (John 1:1, 14). It seems to me that in a very singular manner it is being said the He was beforehand. The Johannine choice of "logos" reflects one of the most profound philosophical insights to be found anywhere in all literature. It is not merely incidental, I think, that John says that it was the word which became flesh. He might have chosen to say it was the number or the sign or the shape or something else that became flesh, but he didn’t. And I think he didn’t because it was in fact the word, and he selected "logos" because it was the only language that would fit the fact. Normally, a man is born and then the denoting word is added; in the instance of Jesus, however, it would appear the word was first and the flesh was added.

When a word is spoken it is one’s utterance of himself; it is expression. It is therefore quite correct to say that, in giving his Son, the heavenly Father was expressing himself. But don’t overlook this fact: you cannot express what isn’t. For anything to be expressed, it must be. It cannot come forth unless it is. And Logos was, so John says; and Logos came among us, becoming flesh.

He entered our world at the same gate all babies do, the gate of birth. When they held him up and spanked him, I suppose he cried as all babies cry. But who was he, this newborn child? Those Bethlehem shepherds had some feelings about that; they went around calling him a Savior. Those wise men from the East had some opinions about it; they went to a lot of trouble to hail him and greet him as a newborn King. His mother had some private feelings about him which she "kept and pondered in her heart." Joseph had his feelings too, for, after all, in a dream he had listened to an angel visitant tell him even what name should be given to the Child. For it was required that even the incarnate Logos must have assigned to him a denoting word.

After eight days they took him to the place of circumcision, and they said to those attending there, "This is Jesus." And the authorities responded, "So he is." And he was. Upon entering the world, each of us is given a name; and it is up to us to give that name a meaning by the way we live and how we bear it across our span of years. This Bethlehem Child was called by a very common word; there was a boy named Jesus: in almost every city block. But this Child took that word, and in about 33 years gave it a meaning that nobody had ever given it before and that nobody ever has since. The word "Jesus" means Savior. Savior he was, and for this reason this word was assigned to him as his name. Nobody ever fulfilled the meaning of a name any more completely than Jesus fulfilled that one.

Alexander means "helper of men;" but not every man who has borne that name has in fact been notable for his helpfulness to others. Katherine means "pure;" but not every woman named Katherine has been exactly pristine in her purity. Many boy babies have been named Jesus, but not many have distinguished themselves as saviors. One may have rescued a lamb which had fallen among the rocks; another may have picked up and taken to an inn a wounded man whom he found lying by the road. In some small ways some may have performed saving roles of one kind or another. But only this Bethlehem Child has ever so fulfilled the meaning of this name that it could be said of it, as Peter said to the elders and rulers of Jerusalem, "There is no other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved" (Acts 4:12).

The Bethlehem Child took that common word and wrought a kind of miracle upon it. Before the Child’s birth, Joseph had heard a heavenly messenger give this instruction: "Call his name Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins" (Matthew 1:21). And he did, and he has, and he does. A kind-hearted shepherd named Jesus may save a lamb from among the rocks; but this Jesus saves his people. A kind-hearted traveler named Jesus may save: an unfortunate victim of robbers from the roadside ditch; but this Jesus saved his people from their sins. Jesus is Savior.

The Person has made that name-word something special, a name above every name. It is common in the Western world that parents choose "Bible names" for their children - John, Mary, Joseph, Paul. These names are everywhere in use. But may I suggest you look in your telephone directory - how many people named Jesus do you find listed there? Somehow this miracle word is set apart for special use, at least in much of the world. It is uttered in times of prayer and heard amid notes of highest praise; it is lisped by little children just learning to speak, and it is murmured with the last breath of people who are dying. And when people who are profane want to give expression to their profanity, and choose to do it with words, one of the words they use is Jesus. Profaneness may be expressed in many ways; and when the way is with words, the technique is to take the holy words that denote the Divine Being and treat them with utmost irreverence and disrespect. I’ve never heard any cussing done in the name of George Washington or Abraham Lincoln, but I’ve heard a lot of it that used the name Jesus. If the uses of the word, reverent or irreverent, are any clue to its special character, then this word is indeed a special one.

It is written in Luke 2:21 that eight days after the birth of the Bethlehem Child "when he was circumcised, he was called Jesus." This was the name given to him. Jesus was his "given" name. A surname is inherited; the child takes the surname of his parents. Of course, in that ancient time and land surnames were not used as we use them now. A man was simply known by his given name and further identified by the town he lived in. Thus we have Jesus of Nazareth. The word "Christ" is not actually a part of his name; it is a kind of title, meaning "anointed" or "chosen" one. It is the Greek word Christos. This was not a part of his given name, but was given to him in common usage later, with the growing awareness that he was someone very special. So we put together his given name, the name of the town where he lived, and the title which came to be his, and we have this: Jesus Christ of Nazareth. To be completely correct, it should read: Jesus, the Christ. The definite article belongs there - both in the grammatical and the historical sense.

They started something, who on his circumcision day name this Child. They set in motion a sound wave which has never died away, although nearly twenty centuries have gone by. If you shout from a mountainside, other mountains may pick up the sound and echo it from hill to hill until at last it fades away in some distant ravine. But in so many ways the sounding of the name Jesus has been an ascending crescendo across the years. Sometimes the reverberating echoes of that name may have grown dim; but then they have swelled to greatness again; and there is an everlasting quality in this name which will never let it die.

As the Christ-man took the cross, an instrument of death, and turned it into the world’s most powerful symbol of victory, so has he taken this common name-word and made of it the world’s most cherished signal of hope and sign of spiritual and moral power. The Apostle Paul always rose to his highest summits of eloquence when speaking of Christ. In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul writes of "the immeasurable greatness" of the divine power which is at work within us, which was "accomplished in Christ" who has been exalted to a place "far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow" (2:9-10).

Name that is above every name! This was a very important fact for people like Peter and John and Paul. In that name there was power - and, of course, there still is. It was this name which they invoked when they called upon a power greater than themselves. At Philippi the Apostle Paul was pestered by a young woman "who had a spirit of divination and brought her owners much gain by soothsaying." Paul said to the spirit, "I charge you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her" (Acts 16:18). Peter and John were going up the temple steps at the hour of prayer when they came upon a lame man asking alms, and Peter said to him, "I have no silver and gold, but I give you what I have; in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk" (Acts 3:6 RSV). And the lame man walked.

As a result of this episode on the temple steps, the authorities at Jerusalem arrested Peter and John. Examining their prisoners, the key question the officers asked was this: "By what power or in what name did you do this?" Peter’s answer rang like a bell: "Rulers of the people and elders, if we are being examined today concerning a good deed done to a cripple, by what means this man has been healed, be it known to you all, and to all the people of Israel, that by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead, by him this man is standing before you well" (Acts 4:7-10 RSV). Here, as on many other occasions, the apostolic testimony was that their mighty works were not theirs, but were wrought through the name of Jesus.

The authorities made quite an issue of this. They wanted to put an end to such mystifying and disturbing activity. They conferred with one another, saying, "What shall we do with these men? For that a notable sign has been performed through them is manifest to all the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and we cannot deny it. But in order that it spread no further among the people, let us warn them to speak no more to anyone in this name." What did the authorities then do to the apostles? "They called them and charged them not to speak or teach at all in the name of Jesus" (Acts 4:15-18). Here is where they drew the line; it was the name which was the issue. Those judges didn’t tell Peter and John to stay off the streets. They didn’t tell them they couldn’t teach or speak at all. But they did tell them not to do anything in the name of Jesus. It was this they feared; it was by this they were threatened. On another occasion, Peter, speaking to Cornelius at Caesarea, Peter declared that many bear witness to Christ, "that through his name whosoever believes in him shall receive forgiveness of sins" (Acts 10:43 KJV). In the thought of those New Testament people, anything done in the name of Jesus had a special meaning. And Paul wrote to the Colossians: "Whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus" (3:17 RSV).

Yes, the name was of unsurpassed importance among those first followers of the Way. Sometimes actors and performers argue among themselves as to whose name should be above another on the theater marquee; but in the minds of those first Christians there was no argument as to whose name belonged on top - of everything. "Name above every name," this was the name of Jesus. And it still is. Some have made that discovery; some have not. But whether or not the fact is known, fact it is: the name above every name is the name that was given to the Bethlehem Child, borne by him through Gethsemane to a cross, and beyond the cross to the golden glow of the next first-day morning, and from there through nearly 2,000 years of earth-measured time.

Witnesses to the wonder and power of this name do not all speak from the dust of time long past. Current voices echo the sound first heard so long ago. Multiplied millions have sung with Charles Wesley:

Jesus the name that charms our fears,
That bids our sorrows cease,
‘Tis music in the sinners’ ears,
‘Tis life, and health, and peace.

One of the greatest Christian hymns was written in Canterbury, England, by Edward Perronet in 1779. The first stanza:

All hail the power of Jesus’ name!
Let angels prostrate fall;
Bring forth the royal diadem,
And crown him Lord of all.

Let me tell you a story which dramatically illustrates the power of this name. Half a century ago there was in our country a singing evangelist named Luther B. Bridgers. His home was at the village of Wilmore, Kentucky. He was away from his home most of the time doing his evangelistic work wherever he was needed. Returning from one of his trips, Luther Bridgers discovered that the family home had been destroyed by fire. In that fire his wife and four children had died. In a Wilmore cemetery stands the unusual gravestone which marks the common burial place of those five most dear to him. But out of that tragic loss, and as a result of the faith that sustained him through it, Luther Bridgers wrote one of the best of our gospel songs: He Keeps Me Singing. The story is that he sat on the stone doorstep of what once had been his and his family’s home, and there wrote both the words and music of this moving song:

There’s within my heart a melody
Jesus whispers sweet and low,
Fear not, I am with thee, peace, be still,
In all of life’s ebb and flow.

All my life was wrecked by sin and strife,
Discord filled my heart with pain;
Jesus swept across the broken strings
Stirred the slumbering chords again.

Though sometimes he leads through waters deep,
Trials fall across the way,
Though sometimes the path seems rough and steep,
See his footprints all the way.

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus - Sweetest name I know,
Fills my every longing, keeps me singing as I go.

One of our gospel hymns, sung to a tune called "Precious Name," begins with these lines:

Take the name of Jesus with you,
Child of sorrow and of woe;
It will joy and comfort give you;
Take it, then, where’er you go.

As I think of it now, I am quite sure that Peter and John and Paul would have liked the message of this song. Because this is just what they did - they took the name of Jesus with them wherever they went. And you and I may, do this also, and we should. They considered themselves honored to bear it, and so should we, and as we bear it, care for it well.

We have said there is a magic, a wonder, a miracle quality about this name. But how? why? what is it? Let me try to answer this question with one illustration of the unique significance and authority of the name. I would speak with you of the singular role this name plays in the mighty drama of prayer. You and I need God. We need the touch of his hand upon our lives, his forgiveness, his blessing, his help. We seek through prayer, and through prayer receive. We are told in 1 Timothy 2:5 that there is "one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus." We are told in Hebrews 7:25 that "he is able for all time to save those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them." We are told in 1 John 2:1 that "we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ, the righteous." Mediator, Intercessor, Advocate - this means that he fulfills the role of attorney pleading our case before the throne of the heavenly King.

Some may argue that this is oversimplified drama. Perhaps. But I do believe it is a good way to make a point which needs to be made. And while we are about it, will you permit me to press the drama somewhat further, and make the point a bit more vivid? I know as well as you do that we must not think of God as having a body or the form of man. I know this is totally unacceptable anthropomorphism. But only a moment ago I said that "we need the touch of his hand upon our lives," and I doubt if that terminology gave you any difficulty. We do it all the time; we often use the metaphor of body when we speak of the being and actions of God. It’s simply an aspect of the picture language we find it necessary to use. when we attempt to communicate spiritual truth. And I’m convinced it’s quite all right, so long as we understand that it is indeed metaphor which we are using.

So let me now use the metaphor to create a drama - to illustrate the intercessory role of Christ and the tremendous importance of his name to you and me as we approach our heavenly Father in prayer.

Very often we go to someone in the name of another. I may be unknown and uninfluential, and the president or the king of the Very Important Person, VIP, wouldn’t have time for me or interest in me. I may knock at his door, and beg - but to no avail. But if I can come to him in the name of someone of importance he knows, if I can send in a note, or give some evidence of association with this important one, then the Very Important Person will let me in. He will agree to see me for the sake of the important person he knows and trusts, the one in whose name I have come. He will see me out of respect and regard for him; he will see me for his sake.

My dear friend, it is not without reason that when we go to our heavenly Father in prayer, we pray in the name of our Savior Jesus Christ. There is a reason why we ask what we ask for Jesus’ sake.

Now let us come to the drama of which I spoke. I am a sinner; I am unworthy; I have failed. I have disappointed God over and over; I have ignored his known will; I have very ungratefully rejected many offerings of his great love. He has been patient with me, and I have presumed upon his patience. He has given me chance after chance, and, one after another, I have muffed my opportunities to do better. He has trusted me with freedom, and I have abused it over and over again.

And now I am in trouble. The voice of my conscience is speaking up from within me; some of my sins have overtaken me, their consequences apparent as never before. I am afraid of what may happen next, and for once in my life I realize that I need help.

So I approach God in prayer. I ask him to do things for me, to listen to me, to hear my cry. And up yonder somewhere, seated on his throne, God says, "Why should I?" And I know what he means. Is there any reason why he should? any reason why he should pay attention to me? I’ve been such a stinker! He has tried to help me in many ways many times, and I have paid no attention to him, and now I am expecting him to pay attention to me. I could have done many wonderful things for him in the world, but I haven’t done them, and now I am asking him to do all sorts of wonderful things for me. And, really, I can’t blame him if he says, "Why should I?"

But there is another Person in this drama. Jesus is sitting at the Father’s right hand on the throne. And he hears me pray - in his name and for his sake. With his left elbow he gently nudges the Father, and says, "Father, you see that fellow down there praying?" And the Father replies, "Yes, I see him; what about it?" Then Jesus says to the Father, "Did you notice that he is praying in my name? You do remember me, don’t you? You remember how you sent me down to that world, to people like that fellow - including him? You do remember how I loved those people, all of them, including him? You remember how my loving them got me into difficulty with various earthly powers, and how they nailed me to a cross and crucified me? Well, Father, maybe that fellow down there doesn’t have any right to be coming to you and asking anything of you; but, Father, for my sake won’t you please grant him the forgiveness he is asking in my name?"

And the Father says, "All right, Son, for your sake, I’ll do it." And he does. A wave of peace sweeps over me, a warmth arises within me, and I know that my prayer is heard.

Simple drama maybe, too simple perhaps; but, O my dear friend, it is essential truth. Small wonder, then, that millions hail the power of Jesus’ name and sing of the name that charms our fears and bids our sorrows cease. Name above every name, this one!

A good, kind, quiet woman had walked humbly but joyously with her Lord from her girlhood days. Now in her mid-nineties, strength failing, she lay upon the bed from which she would never be able to lift her body again. In early life she had committed to memory the words of Romans 3:2: "The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has made me free from the law of sin and death." For some reason, as the years had passed, this verse of Scripture had become more and more meaningful to her, and she was heard often reciting these words.

During her final days of waning strength, the precious old one continued to quote her favorite verse. As strength failed, she was able to utter the words only in a whisper: "The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has made me free from the law of sin and death." As strength continued to decline, words at the beginning and the ending were gradually dropped, and she was saying something like "... Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has made me free ..." As the final hours approached, even this was shortened, until she was whispering, "... life in Christ Jesus ..." And finally only one word was left; only one word did she have the memory or the strength to say: "... Jesus ..." When all the other words were gone from her mind, this one lingered still. When she was too weary to open her eyes and look upon those about her, they who stood by listened to this one whispered word until there was no more breath with which to say it. But, you know, I’m sure that word was enough. For in that one word is a world of faith and trust and meaning. And for one who understands there always is.

Now let me add just one thing more. In our four Gospels Jesus is quoted as saying a good many things about himself. He identified himself in a good many ways: "I am the way ... I am the truth ... I am the life ... I am the good shepherd ... I am the door ... I am the bread of heaven ... I am the water of life ..." But there was one time when, I believe, Jesus identified himself in a very special way. It was when he, the risen Christ, victorious, glorified, met Saul of Tarsus on that Damascus Road and stopped him there. Out of the brilliance of the light that shone that noonday, he said, "Saul, Saul." Saul answered, "Who are you, Lord?" And very simply the Lord replied, "I AM JESUS" (Acts 9:4-5).

He gave no identification other than that name. He offered no qualification; he didn’t have to; he never does, because he is Jesus. He stands in the naked power of his own Divine Manhood. And he stands ready to show you stars you never saw before.