Known and Named in Christ

There is a deep relief in being named and known. In a hurried world that constantly asks for proof; of worth, of relevance, of productivity; the Scriptures today begin not with a demand, but with a gift: you are a child of God now. From that identity flows both the hope of what will be and the calling to live differently today.

Children now, glory not yet

First John offers a paradox that is both steadying and bracing: we are already God’s children, and yet what we shall be has not yet been revealed. The present is secure; the future is luminous. Christian hope is not wishful thinking but a settled confidence that seeing Christ “as he is” will transform us into his likeness. Hope, in John’s vision, is not passive; it purifies. In a culture of shifting identities; curated profiles, changing metrics, unstable workplaces; this hope anchors the soul and reorients desire. We do not purify ourselves to earn sonship; rather, because we are sons and daughters, we begin to live like the family we belong to.

Sin as lawlessness and the freedom of belonging

John names sin as lawlessness; not merely the violation of a rule, but the refusal of relationship, a life unmoored from the law of love. Lawlessness is the attempt to be self-originating and self-justifying, to be one’s own center. That is why shame lurks so closely behind it; isolation breeds secrecy, and secrecy breeds despair.

“No one who remains in him sins,” John writes, in language that can unsettle a conscientious heart. He is not proposing an impossible perfectionism; he is insisting that abiding in Christ and persisting in sin cannot coexist. When we sin, we are stepping out of the relationship that heals us; the invitation is always to return. Confession is not Christian pessimism but Christian realism; the courageous act of coming back into the light, where love names us truthfully and sets us free.

“Behold, the Lamb of God”

John the Baptist does not center himself; he points. He names Jesus with a title that gathers the whole story of salvation: the Lamb who takes away the sin; singular; of the world. This is more than the sum of individual failures; it includes the tangled systems of violence, lies, greed, and contempt that snare societies. The Lamb does not merely soothe guilty feelings; he breaks the power of sin’s regime and inaugurates a new exodus. To “behold” him is to let this victory reorder our loyalties and our loves, so that adoration fuels action: reconciliation pursued, truth told, promises kept, the vulnerable protected.

The Spirit who remains

John the Baptist recognizes the Messiah by a sign: the Spirit descends and remains. In a time of endless churn; news cycles, trends, relocations; the Christian life is marked by remaining. Jesus will later say, “Abide in me.” Remaining is not passivity; it is fidelity. The Spirit’s abiding presence produces recognizable fruit: love that is patient under pressure, joy that is not brittle, peace that is not naïve, self-control that is not self-hatred, kindness that is not performative. Where these fruits grow, the Spirit has made a home.

All the ends of the earth have seen

The psalm widens the horizon: God’s saving power is not a private comfort but a public truth for the nations. Christian joy is missionary by nature, but never coercive. It sings more than it shouts. It respects freedom, listens before speaking, and serves before explaining. In an age suspicious of grand claims, beauty often opens the first door; beauty of a reconciled friendship, a family that forgives, a parish that welcomes, a workplace marked by integrity. These small symphonies hint at the great Song the psalmist hears.

The Holy Name of Jesus

Today’s optional memorial of the Most Holy Name of Jesus invites wonder at a simple syllable that holds the universe’s rescue: “Jesus” means “God saves.” Saints cherished this Name as a shield in temptation, a balm in anxiety, a spark for courage. Devotion to the Holy Name is not superstition; it is consent to the mission embedded in the Name. To carry Jesus’ Name is to speak as he speaks; truthfully, mercifully, without contempt; and to act as he acts; with meek authority, courageous tenderness, and costly fidelity.

There is also a quiet examination here: what do our tongues carry into the world each day; blessing or scorn, healing or harm? Reverencing the Name shapes how we use every other name: addressing people with dignity, refusing to reduce anyone to a label, refusing to weaponize words online. If the Name of Jesus rests on our lips, may his character rest in our speech.

Practicing the Word today

• Breathe the Name: Inhale “Je-,” exhale “-sus,” for two minutes. Let anxiety meet the One who saves.
• A brief examen at day’s end: Where did I remain in Christ today? Where did I drift toward lawlessness? Return with a simple, honest “Lord, have mercy.”
• Point, don’t perform: Do one hidden act of kindness and consciously offer it that someone might glimpse the Lamb, not you.
• Guard your words: Before posting or replying, ask, “Does this carry the Name well; truthful, merciful, just?”
• Reconcile: If possible, take one step toward repairing a strained relationship; an apology, a call, a prayer; and entrust the rest to God.

A closing prayer

Jesus, Lamb of God, Name above every name, let your Spirit remain in us. Purify our hope, steady our hearts, and make our lives a pointer to your saving love; so that from our small corners, all the ends of the earth may glimpse your mercy and sing for joy. Amen.