“His Name Was Called Jesus”

Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God

My name is Emilio.
But when my mother said Emilio Alfonso, I knew something was not right.
It was the same name… but spoken in a different way.
And that change of tone said everything.

I think we have all had a similar experience. A name is not just a word. A name creates relationship. And the way a name is spoken completely changes what we are experiencing. It is not the same to hear your name spoken with closeness as it is with correction; it is not the same when it is spoken with affection as when it carries the weight of seriousness.

The Gospel invites us to pay attention to something that seems small, but is decisive: the name given to the Child.

Saint Luke tells us with striking simplicity:

“When eight days were completed for his circumcision, he was named Jesus.”

This is not a secondary detail. It is not just another legal formality. Mary and Joseph do not choose the name. They receive it. The child is not named after his human father, nor after a family ancestor. He is called Jesus, the name the angel had indicated. And that name has a very concrete meaning: “God saves.”

The Bible shows us that this is not an isolated case. The same thing happened with John the Baptist. The family wanted to name him Zechariah, after his father. But the angel had said: John. And the name prevails—not out of whim, but because the history of salvation is not initiated by custom or family tradition, but by God. John means “God is merciful,” and his mission will be to prepare the way of the Lord.

With Jesus, the same pattern appears—but in a definitive way. His name is not merely a sign; it summarizes his entire mission. Jesus will not only speak about salvation, nor only proclaim the Kingdom. He is the salvation of God made flesh. Everything he will later do—heal, forgive, lift up, reconcile—is already contained in his name.

And here Mary appears, whom we celebrate today as Mother of God. Saint Paul expresses it in a brief but immense phrase:

“God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law.”

Mary is that woman. She does not invent the name, but she receives it and offers it to the world. In her arms, God receives a human name. In her heart, Mary guards the mystery. That is why the Church calls her Mother of God: not because she possesses God, but because she freely cooperates in God’s plan, giving flesh, history, and closeness to the God who saves.

It is no coincidence that her name, Mary, is one of the most repeated names in human history. Generation after generation, across cultures and languages, families have chosen her name. Not as a trend, but because in Mary Christianity has recognized a deeply human and deeply believing vocation: the ability to welcome God, to give life, to safeguard the mystery, and to allow it to grow with fidelity. In her, the dignity and vocation of woman within God’s plan are also revealed.

The first reading gives us a decisive key:

“So shall they invoke my name upon the Israelites.”

To place God’s name upon the people is to bless them, to make them God’s own, to give them identity and protection. In Jesus, God places his name upon us definitively.

That is why Saint Paul can say something even stronger:

“You are no longer a slave but a child, and if a child then an heir.”
The Spirit cries out within us, “Abba, Father,” reminding us who we are and to whom we belong.

If we bear the name of Christ, then we also share in his mission. We are not called to condemn or exclude, but to be living signs of God’s salvation in the world.

Today we begin the year under a name.
Not under a number,
not under a simple wish,
but under a Name that saves.

His name was called Jesus.
May that Name also rest upon our lives,
in who we are
and in what we are called to live.